#dabble

[nastyc2nt]

Hanta sero being the biggest fuck boy around, and izuku being sensitive and inexperienced leads to many things

Like izuku begging sero to teach him to fuck you. And trust me he’s writhing. Red faced, maybe teary. He’s so embarrassed. And sero just drinks it up. “Yeah? You want me to teach you to fuck your girl?” Or something slightly condescending.

Of course hanta agrees cause you’re hot. So he’s sitting behind you, against the headboard. While he shows izuku how to make you cum in every way.

First lesson was fingers, second was tongue, third was his dick. And after was toys he lended you both. Fingers started out tricky, but sero was fairly hands on, resulting in four fingers in you rather than two. Izukus personal favourite was the vibrators. Something about being as desperate and pathetic as him, turned him on.

Something about the condescending attitude plus the whiny pathetic behaviour goes crazy. (Side note. If you want it to be even more freaky. Make izuku the fuckboy and bakugo the pathetic one. “I guess you’ll always be second place to me kacchan.’ Or something even more diva-ish.)

🫀

I’m literally going crazy, i wouldn’t have thought of this on my own and i’m so grateful you brought this to my attention—

Sero is a very good choice because he’s so experienced!! Poor Izuku wouldn’t know what to do, he’s never had a girlfriend before!!

She/Her and Born at birth anatomy.

{idk where katsuki came in from, but I literally breath for cocky izuku. Will make a small dabble if you send in something about cocky izuku and katsuki}

{Also saw chubby reader for some reason- BUT EVERYTHINH WORKS}

✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦

“Don’t just whine,” sero sternly shouted at the green haired man that was too lost in your pussy to think of anything else. Izuku has been trying so hard to learn everything, and has been getting so turned on with how pathetic you looked when you’ve been overstimulated.

“M’sorry,” he opened his eyes and focused on fucking you just right instead of his own needs, he tries to reach deep and use his cock with the tips sero gave him! And he listened to how you like it as well.

Sero rolls his eyes and grabs izukus hand from behind you, his other hand still grabbing your waist and you lean back onto his chest. “Play with her clit like a man! I thought the number one hero could please his girlfriend,” he looks down at you, your eyes half open as you look at your boyfriend. He recalled your defenses against izuku being a bad lover throughout the evening but never once said no, or that what sero did wasn’t right.

You moan and whimper when izuku started to play with your overused clit and started to squirm underneath both their holds, but sero made sure to keep you still. “See? Ain’t that a precious sight,” he hated to admit, if you were to find yourself single — he’d fuck you so good. But he has more respect for izuku then to pull you away from him.

Izuku had enough of the hunger in Seros eyes, he knew it was strange to get jealous when he literally asked for this.

You yelped when izuku pressed your leg up higher and inched his body closer, his legs almost crushing you, “Gonna cum?” Izuku egged on. sero watches him start to pump your guts, and the sound from your lips and pussy is so good it makes him hard. Izuku was rough now to, his hand making a imprint on your leg that he held closer to your head, and his hand still playing with your clit.

Sero smirks, proud of Izuku gaining confidence and fucking like a man. “Damn, fuckin’ her rough? I knew you were like a rabbit.”

¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

Taglist: @sparklylanddetective @fvitos

[lady-ashfade]

Can i request reader comforting Rhaenyra after she comes back from finding Luke ☹️☹️

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Mother!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader (dabble)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 376

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Angst/comfort, mourning, short fic, we mourn with you my queen.

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Dragonstone was empty without your brother.

his death provoked the real war and mourning, a mother without her child is ruthless and cruel. And your mother had been lost and looking for any sign it was true, that her son has dead and he will never been in her arms again.

the womb you once shared together, the air you breathed together, and the laughs you had with him could never be shared again. lucaerys was your twin flame even hatched dragons together and both of them had died.

so you did all you could do and distract yourself from the anger inside and watched over the barricade with rhaenys. the throne had been taken by your uncle and more then one sibling lost.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” hearing her trembling voice and the look in her eyes was hard for the whole council to hear. Rhaenyra walked away quietly, the only words you heard from her in weeks. it pained you to see the state she was in.

you followed immediately after her to give her something, anything to help. even if you needed to fly to kingsland yourself for her command.

“Mother,” your hand rested on the open door to her chambers wondering if you should be there. you had no idea that pain she felt, “I wish to speak to you.” with teary eyes she looked at you and welcomed you in, no noise leaving her lips. walking forward the words disappeared from your mind and anxiety filled you. taking a seat in front of her you played with your hands to ground yourself from breaking in front of her.

she looked at you and you could tell it was hard to do so. you had close similarities to your brother, the same once’s you stare at every night to see him. however maybe the right words aren’t spoken at all.

You reached forward to hug her but gave her time to pull away from you if she needed but she grabbed ahold of you as fast as she could. wrapping you up in her arms she broken down in tears. her cries broke you and made you sink into her touch.

“We’ll make them pay,” you lean your head against hers.

“For Lucaerys.”

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: nsfw, murder

Imagine you're a messed up detective with a thing for serial killers. The more brutal, the better. As you tie them down and ride them to oblivion, eyes wet with sadistic satisfaction at the thought they can look but not touch, you know that in less than a week you'll be the one to send them to the electric chair. And even as they shake and cry for mercy, it's your name written on desperate cold lips.

Except this time, you've left the rope a touch too loose.

[honeeysagee]

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓐𝓯𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓼: 𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮

quick little dabble about congressman!Bucky, because that's all that's on my mind right now. i need him like air! 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓮!𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂, 𝓬𝓱𝓾𝓫𝓫𝔂!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓭𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴! 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝔁𝓱𝓲𝓫𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓶 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴, 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

──────┐┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐┌──────

You wore the dress on purpose.

That slate blue one that he loved so much. It hugged your curves, left nothing for the imagination - though Bucky never had to use his imagination much. He already knew how your body was shape. How it hit in his heads. How you moved when it was too much, not enough. How your lips formed the perfect 'o' whenever he hit the perfect spot.

He watched you from across the room like a man straved. Eyes dark with something you've seen before - tasted before. You caught the edge of a smirk as you returned your attention to a reporter who's question you barely heard.

Your smile and nod was automatic, but your heart beat just a little bharder under the weight of his gaze. Bucky knew what he was doing, just like you. His sleeves rolled up, the metal of his arm gleaming faintly under the overhead lights. His tie was loose, collar open just enough to reveal the strong line of his throat, and the mess of his hair was a calculated sort of chaos. Like he'd just barely managed to hold himself together all night.

And now? Now, he was unraveling you from across the room without laying a single hand on you. You didn't dare look at him. Not again. Because if you did, you might not make it out of this fundraiser without doing something reckless.

But that didn't stop you from knowing exactly where he was in the room. Every shift of his weight. Every calculated step closer. He was coming for you - and you were going to let him.

His hand was on your arm first. Turning his back toward the crowd of reporters who were continuing to ask questions to your colleagues and quickly taking photos of this exchange between you. You wondered if they could see how charged this interaction was.

"That dress," he whispered into your ear, low and barely audible over the soft hum of conversation around you. "You look so fucking good in it." You didn't deny it. You couldn't. Not when he was looking at you like that.

You smiled to the crowd, and turned to face Bucky, "Can we have this conversation after the fundraiser is over?" You replied with a cool tone. Teasing. Dangerous.

Bucky's smirk deepened. "Why wait?" He leaned in slightly, his mouth brushing your ear like a secret, "Why don't we give these people a show? Show them how much of a good girl you are for me."

You felt it then - the slow thrum of heat pooling in your stomach. The tension between you wound tight, stretch then beneath polite smiles and polished exteriors. You let a small moan fall from your lips.

"You would like that, huh," Bucky smiled, "You want me to bend you over this podium and fuck you dumb? Let them know who you wore this dress for? Who you belong to?" You almost nod, but you know how serious he was. He little he cared for this job. "Or do you want me to slid my fingers on your dress? Bring out those heavenly sounds you give me every night. Make them jealous."

You let his words was over you. They soaked your skin, low and possessive, curling around your ribs like smoke. You glance up at him - his tie slightly loosened, eyes still dark, jaw flexing like he was already holding back. You could tell. He was straving.

"Behave," you whispered, but your voice shook, just a little. Bucky smirked, "I been behaving all day. You have no idea what it's costing me."

The clink of a glass, a burst of laughter, a flash of a camera - and yet all you felt was him. Every word like a touch, every touch, every look like a promise. He leaned back finally, eyes dragging over your body one last time like a man cataloging everything he was about to claim.

Later, you know, this tension would snap. He'd make good on every promise whispered between silent glances and shallow breaths. But for now, all you could do was stand there, heart pounding, skin buzzing, and try not to give yourself away completely.

You already had.

…………………………………………………………………………

read the original!

[xxikstimloverxx]

"Why is it so cold in here?" you quietly ask yourself. You've just woken up from a nap, and you feel like you've just stepped into the Antarctic. You know there's only one explanation, Toji. He always has the AC set to high, even when it's 40 degrees outside. He always runs hot, and you don't mind it when it means he's walking around the house shirtless, but at times like these, you wish he would just crack a window and turn on a fan.

You walk into your shared room, where Toji is lounging on your bed. You walk past him and to your closet to find yourself a sweater and some pants because the shorts you were wearing weren't cutting it. Finding an old hoodie of his and some fluffy sweatpants. "Why do you have the ac on in the winter?" you ask, walking out of your closet and to your shared bed.

"Why is my girl cold?" he asked. A sweet smile one his face as he turns to look at you "Very," you say, crawling on top of him, pulling your blanket atop of you in the process, and snuggling up to him, head nuzzled under his chin, and face smooched into his chest. "But you can make it up to me by warming me up you say, your voice sounding drowsy and half asleep. "Of course, baby,"  he says warping his arms around your waist. He feels your breathing leveling out and your heartbeat slowing down as you drift off to sleep. Toji would never admit this to anyone, but he enjoys these quiet Sunday mornings, even if he’s burning up from all the body heat you're producing.

[strawberrybbits]

It kind of scares him the new kind of feelings you’ve unlocked in him;

He feels more and more frustrated, almost pathetic every time one of his study sessions gets entirely derailed by his mind wandering to thoughts of you.

How your eyes crinkle when you smile, how your eyes sparkle when you get to talk about something you like, how your hair sways when you turn to greet him with a smile.

Then his mind is filled with the sound of your voice, your laugh echoing through his head as he feels that warm, fuzzy, almost painful feeling bloom through his chest to his stomach.

Leaned over his desk face in his hands, cheeks burning hot imagining, how maybe so you’d lean on him during movie nights, getting to feel your warmth. how your hand might feel intertwined with his, walking to school, around town, to that cafe you like, fingers intertwined..

Maybe you’d call him handsome again, you’ve told him off handedly before, but does that really mean much?, you’re kind to everyone. You were just being nice, but the memory still makes his heart race even more

Maybe one day you won’t introduce him to your acquaintances or other friends as “one of my best friends!.”

Maybe instead you’ll say “This is my bo—“-

His heart feels like it’s about to explode, his face smoldering, his head feels light, almost queasy—

His eyes finally glance to the time;

Damn it, another hour wasted. Again

What are you doing to his mind?, he needs to get his shit together, Aniki is gonna be pissed.

All that, just so the next morning he could push it all down, down, down. Taking a moment to collect himself before stepping through the school gate to face you.

Standing, chatting with Tanjiro by the lockers while you waited for him, like always. Your beaming smile as you greet him cheerfully making his mind short circuit while he tries so hard to play it off, and just act normal.

[anarcoqueer1994]

Sometimes, like tonight, it's easier for Kallus to just give in, to drink, to lose control, he's a happy drunk, an oblivious drunk. Doesn't have to deal with the pain, doesn't have to face the hurt.

When he was an imperial, he could believe the lies the Empire gave him. He could believe they were creating a universe where poor mothers didn't have to work themselves to death just to support their son, where fathers didn't walk out on their families because it was too stressful to be in poverty and support a child and a wife.

A universe, a Coruscant, where his friends, his family, didn't have to die just because they were the have-nots. Where they didn't toil away for a meager nothing while those at the top benefited.

He could pretend everything he did was for the greater good, that the promise for a better life for all outweighed his questionable actions.

The rebellion offered no such promises, only hope. And that wasn't enough to chase away the unbearable sadness he sometimes felt, thinking about the evil he committed.

Thinking about how his mother's heart would break if she knew, even as he did it all in her name.

Even when he works for the rebellion now, trying to atone for his sins, he knows it isn't enough to stop all the injustices of the Galaxy. And it hurts.

So he gives in, he drinks, loses control, is a happy drunk. It's easier than being alone, sober with his thoughts.

[pollie-pockets]

Purple gen 1 pony transparents

[crimsonred-hi]

Week of Dabbles: day 6

Too Fuckin Early

Andrew only fell asleep a couple of hours ago, after spending a night working on music of sorts. In the end not much work was done by the time he lay himself beside her.

Just to be awakened by the sunlight filtering through his window; he turned to his lover's pillow to check whether she was still asleep. To his amusement, she was now missing, her side of their bed is stone cold.

He turned around, and there he saw her on the balcony looking over the landscape: a vast green, misted valley that lays close to his home can be seen from his balcony.

It’s truly gorgeous.

She’s waiting patiently for the day's first rays, in awe at how the world comes to life. She didn't even notice he was up and awake when he approached her, only when he put his arms around her and held her tight. Gentle kisses pressed to the back of her neck. They both silently enjoyed the first moments of the day together.

“It’s too fuckin early…”

[echostalker]

Dazai: *says a pick up-line that so bad and cringe worth. Something no one would ever give a second chance to*

Atsushi: *Looks horrified, right eye twitching*

Dazai: *looks at Atsushi, completely proud of himself* Swooning yet?

Atsushi: *Smacks Dazai’s face with both hands, clutching his cheeks tightly. Proceeds to kiss his face aggressively* Of all the stupid! Moronic! How would anyone fall-?!

Dazai: You’re kissing me though?!

Atsushi: I have brain damage!

[lady-ashfade]

Good day! I wish to acquire a Blueberry Roll 🫐 with a side of Aegon Targaryen! Extra blueberries if you please! 💖 I love this concept so so much!

Skipping Supper?

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Strawberry rolls: Drabble/fluff. I checked with the requester to change a few things

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 252

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Happy Aegon au, Reader marries Aegon instead of Helaena, Smitten Aegon, Good husband au, rhaenrya always the heir.

⤻ I don’t support Aegon, nor really liked him- only time I supported him in was taking revenge for his son even if it wasn’t smart- because grief makes us do things. But I support it- because I would burn that whole city down.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🫐 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

His warmth pressed against your torso, while his hands wrapped around your waist to hold you closer. You and your husband sit in bed after a much needed relaxation from his duties, so he came rushing to you. Aegons head lays in your lap and you brush fingers throughout it while humming a tone.

“Tell me,” he mumbled in the fabric of your dress.

“Could we skip family dinner and have it in here? I’d much prefer being only with you.”

You smile and sigh at the proposal,though you didn’t want to go, you couldn’t decline knowing his mother is already bearing over you to have her grandchildren. “Apologies, my love. But we mustn’t miss supper, your mother will be asking questions in the morning, wondering if i was feeling ill.” he hums in disappointment and nestles his head closer.

A knock at the door startles you but not Aegon, as he rests peacefully in your hold. Raising your voice you call out to the person on the other side to state their business. A squier looking for the prince, to remind him of his studies. Aegon groans and sits up, hating the feeling without your warmth.

“I Love you, my dearest. I shall see you tonight then?” While he speaks he leans closer with a handsome smile. You nod and seal the kiss yourself with flushed cheeks.

As you watch him drag his feet to the door, you chuckle at the mopping, he’s never thrilled about leaving your side.

[hyunniesgirl]

Okay but like...soft sex with lee know? He would totally be the type to hold hands you and whisper the most softest of praises in your ear.

Yes, absolutely yes!!!!! Lee know would absolutely worship you during sex and that's the moment you know how much he loves you. Of course, he does little gesture in your everyday life, but Lee Know doesn't show you much of his feelings, except when you're having sex.

The way he kisses every part of your body while chuckling to the reactions you make. The way he licks his fingers after fucking you with them saying how good you taste. The way he smiles and tells you how beautiful you look gagging around his cock, removing your hair out of your face so he can have a good view of you sucking him.

Pinning your hands by the side of your head, he'd interlace his fingers with yours trying to show you his feelings with his touch, he always holds your hands while entering you, closing his eyes to the feeling of you squeezing him.

Lee know is a sucker for eye contact, so the moment he starts thrusting he'll stare at you and dare you to break it, he'll slowly go in and out of you making you whimper and beg him to go faster.

He'll smile fondly, giving a little peck on your lips and saying "my kitten is so needy" while going faster, kissing your jaw, your neck, your chest and your breasts. Just hearing your little whimpers and moans it's everything he needs to get him going.

When he bites your lower lip, you cum clenching around him and making him cum too. He falls by your side, hugging you and holding you closer to him, resting your head on his chest and kissing the top of your head, whispering "I love you" while hearing your low exhausted snores.

[calcitedraws]

Loved the yandere alphabet you did for Gemini and it got me wondering how she would react to a darling who already had a partner when she meets them

Excellent question!

She'd do what she would usually do, but with a lot of malicious intent towards your partner. Here's some of the schemes she'll start to try to cause discourse between you two:

Stealing their credit card and racking up debt through purchasing porn (specifically any type you'd find unpleasant) and gambling.

Creating evidence of cheating (making dating accounts in their likeness, honestly if she could catfish another rival to make you think your partner was trying to have an affair with the rival so you hate both of them, that's a bonus)

Starting rumors about your partner

She'll just. Cut the breaks to their car.

Cause them to stay at work if they can, causing fights about it

No relationship can survive that. And everytime you come to her to complain about your partner she somehow always knows what to say to comfort you. She won't jump the dime on telling you to breakup, she's saving that card for when you're tearing your hair out from frustration.

The problem would solve itself, eventually. If your partner kicked you out, Gemini would get incredibly upset and have you move in with her (through coersion and begging). From there, it's unlikely she'd let you move out without a fight.

[imreadydollparts]

This Pretty Mane Dabble has more color left in her stripes than the other one I've worked on.

[im-just-echo]

The hum of fluorescent lights filled the empty hallway as Ratchet approached the observation bay. His boots echoed sharply against the tile, a rhythm that felt too loud in the sterile quiet of the recovery wing. He hesitated at the doorway, hand hovering over the keypad. It had been months since Orion’s death—months since Shockwave had dragged himself out of the wreckage, barely alive, refusing to let go.

Ratchet inhaled sharply, bracing himself, before stepping inside.

Faint hum of machinery filled the bay, punctuated by the quiet, precise clinks of metal on metal. Shockwave sat at a workbench in the corner of the room, his posture rigid and his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, as he adjusted the servos of his biomechanical arm. The arm, sleek but utilitarian, hung lifelessly at his side while its internal components lay exposed on the table before him. A yellow visor lay discarded on the table beside him, catching the faint light. Without it, his exposed eyes glinted faintly with an artificial sheen, their unnatural precision unsettling against the pale, hollow face they belonged to.

Ratchet stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in. Finally, he spoke softly as to not startle the young man. “You know, most people at least pretend to get some rest when they’re supposed to be recovering.”

Shockwave didn’t turn. “Doctor Ratchet,” he replied, his voice low, clipped, devoid of the warmth Ratchet once associated with him. “I didn’t expect a visit.”

Shockwave turned fully now, and Ratchet could see him clearly for the first time. The changes were stark. His left arm, sleek and efficient, moved with mechanical precision. His face was pale, gaunt, his features sharpened by the toll of the past months. But it was his eyes—replaced with biomechanical implants—that held Ratchet’s attention. They were too steady, too focused, and completely devoid of the warmth Shockwave once carried.

Ratchet’s chest tightened. The voice was precise, the diction perfect—yet it felt wrong. This wasn’t the Shockwave who used to debate philosophy with Orion late into the night, his face alight with youthful curiosity.

"I’m here to check on you," Ratchet said, stepping a bit closer to shockwave, His gaze flicked over the arm, the cold, mechanical design. "Your repairs look… thorough. How are you adjusting?"

Shockwave’s optics narrowed faintly. "Efficiently. The augmentations allow for greater precision and durability. Adaptation was inevitable."

"Inevitable?" Ratchet echoed, his brows knitting in anger. "Shockwave, you almost died out there. Don't listen to Pharma! You had four major surgeries to keep you alive and so soon after losing Orion—"

Shockwave finally glanced over his shoulder, his gaze cold and calculating. “Physically, I am functional. My Emotions are irrelevant. There is nothing else to discuss.”

The bluntness of the statement cut deeper than Ratchet anticipated. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m not here as your doctor, Shockwave. I’m here as someone who—” His voice broke for a moment, and he swallowed hard. “Someone who still cares.”

"Caring is inefficient,” Shockwave said after a long pause, his gaze unwavering. “It clouds judgment. It impedes progress. You, of all people, should understand this. I do not require pity, Doctor," His tone was sharp. "My survival ensures the efficiency of the program. That is all that matters."

Ratchet flinched. The words were clinical, stripped of any personal weight. He shook his head, his fists clenching. “Don’t give me that crap,” he snapped. “This isn’t you, kid. The Shockwave I knew wouldn’t spout this emotionless drivel. He cared—deeply. About Orion, about the pilots, about everyone. What happened to that man?”

Shockwave’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his artificial eyes—a faint, fleeting shadow of something deeper. “That man was... inefficient,” he said quietly. “And he is gone, as Orion is gone.”

Shockwave’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away. He stared at the table, at the visor resting there, as if searching for answers in its polished surface.

“Existing is all that is required,” he said finally, though his voice was weary.

Ratchet exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his grief. “Orion wouldn’t have wanted this for you,” he said softly. “You know that, don’t you?”

At the mention of Orion’s name, Shockwave flinched. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Ratchet caught it. For a brief moment, the mask of indifference cracked, and the man underneath—the one who once laughed with Orion, debated philosophy, and dreamed of a brighter future—seemed to surface.

But the moment passed quickly. Shockwave straightened, his biomechanical eyes locking onto Ratchet with unsettling precision. “What Orion wanted is irrelevant,” he said, though his voice trembled ever so slightly. “He is gone. And sentimentality will not bring him back.”

The rawness of the admission hit Ratchet like a punch to the gut. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s not true,” he said firmly. “Just because you lost Orion doesn’t mean you’ve lost yourself.”

Ratchet swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the despair he could hear in Shockwave’s voice. “I know it feels that way now,” he continued softly. “God knows, I’ve seen this happen more times than I care to count. But you’re still here, Shockwave. And as long as you’re here, there’s still a chance to heal.”

Shockwave’s gaze hardened at he looked at ratchet, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Heal?” he echoed bitterly. “Do you truly believe there is healing from this, Ratchet? Orion is dead. I felt him die. There is no rebuilding from that.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Orion believed in you. He believed in your strength, your heart. And I still believe in you, even if you don’t.”

Ratchet stepped closer, his heart breaking as he looked at the young man before him—the kid he had once mentored, once cared for like a son. “Shockwave,” he said softly, almost pleading. “Please. Talk to me. Let me help you.”

Shockwave didn’t respond, his focus unwavering as he reattached a digit to his arm. His silence was louder than any words could have been.

Ratchet sighed, his voice thick with sorrow. “You’re not the same kid who walked into that hangar all those years ago,” he said. “And maybe... maybe that kid’s gone for good. But I hope someday, you find whatever it is you’re looking for. Because God knows you can’t keep going like this.”

Shockwave’s hands paused for a fraction of a second before continuing their work. He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge Ratchet’s words.

Ratchet felt his throat tighten, his words catching in his chest.“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so damn sorry.”

He left the room without looking back, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the sterile hum of the recovery wing. Behind him, the faint hum of machinery continued, the sound of a man desperately holding himself together with bolts and wires, piece by broken piece.

Sorry 😐 I've been writing this for two days, lmk if you see mistakes! 🙏

For @keferons amazing Mecha Pilot AU