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#High-Explosive Shell
sw5w · 2 months
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Armored Assault Tank
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STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:46:12
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obsessivevoidkitten · 4 months
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Heroes To Villains
DILF Yandere Superheroes x Gender Neutral Superhero Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, minor violence, gratuitous amount of firearms, super powers, super soldiers, spitroasting, general yandere behavior, bratty reader Word Count: 3.8k (I am sorry this took a bit for me to get to, only took a few hours to write though. I hope you guys love it. Feel free to tip if you do~)
The city you were stationed in was under attack by some fairly destructive super villains. They were either traitors born of the same government program that had produced you and the other super soldiers you worked with or they were sent by another country to attack the retired super agents of your country. Though it was also possible they were a rogue foreigner with a vendetta. All the people making up your squad had been in the military and had made significant enemies.
Their goals did not really matter so much at the moment. It was more important that they were defeated before they caused any casualties.
There were two of them. One of them with an ability to lash out with streams of fire and smoke and another that could jump up really fast and high before slamming down and causing a large explosion on impact.
They were no match for you and your comrades. Red and Ace had handled much worse threats than these two with ease. Ace had been a top pilot before undergoing medical experimentation that left him with angel-like wings and the ability to shoot energy blasts from his hands. The man was like a living B-52. And Red was basically a human tank. Very little could so much as scratch his skin and he had tremendous physical strength.
Both of them had soared through the ranks and had distinguished themselves as competent generals in the last great war. Now they were retired and used their abilities as super soldiers to become heroes and protect the capital from the strange threats that had been unleashed during war time. Mostly the occasional villain. Sometimes a mutant animal.
You had just been a simple medic. Nothing too fancy, but you had hesitantly taken the opportunity to go through experiments that would allow you to heal others much more effectively and without the need for invasive surgery. Most of the super soldiers gained a unique ability and also became more resilient to damage and agile.
And you had gotten those perks too, but not to the degree as everyone else. Though you had gotten an extra ability that most people lacked. Hyper accurate aim with long distance weapons. But you also suffered a drawback when compared to your peers. You got exhausted easily, having very little stamina.
Who could forget the time you had saved the city by firing the railroad gun at the giant robot that used mutated biological components in its construction? Firing a 19,000 pound shell and obliterating an entire giant robot with one perfectly executed shot had been amazing.
You longed for that kind of usefulness again. But currently you were a bit bored, as a long range support unit you frequently hung back a bit. Red and Ace normally cleared everything up themselves without having need of your abilities.
Ace had plucked the hopper from the sky and injected him with a serum that would knock him out cold until he could be taken into custody where his abilities would be removed completely, if they could be. Red had similarly taken out the fire user who had discovered that his searing flames did little more than make Red sweat a bit.
They regrouped together before they started walking back to you, each carrying the limp weight of an unconscious enemy on their shoulders. It would be a few minutes before they got to the rendezvous.
You heard the gruff voice of Red on your comm line.
“We got em’ On our way back now.”
“Affirma-”
You were cut off by a sudden shift underground followed by a woman jumping up from the earth below you and punching you hard enough to launch you several feet.
There had been a third and they had split up to take you on individually.
As you fell through the air you took out your side arm and fired every round in rapid succession. Each one aimed for her heart. Each one hit their mark. But when you hit the ground you had smacked your head pretty hard and the world faded to black.
You woke up in a medical bed in the basement of your headquarters. You were quite dizzy and you felt like you were certainly going to vomit.
You held your hands to your head and your palms flashed.
Much better. If you hadn’t been knocked out you would have simply been able to heal whatever injuries you had sustained in a flash. Oh well you were better now.
Ace walked in to check on you right as you had been getting up. He burst into a smile at seeing you awake. His blue eyes full of joy.
“Hey runt! Glad to see that you’re getting up and about!”
“Who’s a runt!?”
He flexed his biceps to drive the point in.
“Red, get in here, The runt is up!”
You heard his loud steps reverberate upstairs as he bounded towards the basement door and came rushing down.
“It’s been five days, we were beginning to really worry about you, squirt.”
He was smiling but you could tell his red eyes held a lot of concern in them. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how.
“Well, no need to worry. I am not as fragile as a regular person. And I am fully healed now.”
“Yeah… but you weren’t hit by a normal person. And you aren’t as durable as most of us…”
That was Ace.
“Yeah, yeah, I will be more careful, okay? I know my limits. I don’t need a lecture. I took the enemy down and I am okay now so we don’t need to linger on it.”
Ace put his hand to his face and his wings quivered in annoyance as they often do when he tries to lecture you and you just won’t have it.
You rolled your eyes and finally Red spoke up.
“This isn’t the first time you have gotten hurt on the field. Even with precautions like staying back you still end up injured!”
“What’s your point? It's a battle, injuries happen. At least I can heal.”
Ugh, an Ace lecture you were used to. You didn’t need both of them nagging at you.
You rolled your eyes as Red continued.
“Have you ever considered… going into another career? You volunteer at the hospital… maybe you could do that full time?”
That did it.
“Excuse me? I wasn’t in any command position, but I was a trained soldier all the same! I think I can handle myself!”
You stormed away from them and went up the stairs, slamming the door behind you. Assholes. Who were they to tell you what you should consider doing? It was your life and if you wanted to use it fighting genetically enhanced monsters and super-criminals then that was your right to do so.
It would become evident in the future that this incident was where everything started to go wrong. Going forward in battle they always had at least one of them at your side whenever it was physically possible for them to do so.
When you were eventually still injured even with that precaution, even though it was minor, they pressured you again to quit being a hero. They thought maybe you just were too attached to them to leave so they even suggested that you could still be their medic but you would stay on at the base. You could even still operate the railroad rifle that could fire shells from miles away whenever a large foe approached the city.
But you wouldn’t have it. Fuck them. You told them that if you had to form a new squad in a new city then you would do so.
They frantically apologized immediately so they let it go.
It was unfathomable that they would ever allow you to do such a thing. Go off where they couldn’t protect you even a little? Where some inexperienced whelp of a leader would surely get you killed? Not a chance!
But neither could they allow you to remain a front line combatant. Not after the injuries and not with how easily you became fatigued when exerting yourself.
The solution was ugly, but it was what it was. You left them no other option for your own safety.
Though it would make them criminals themselves they had to do it for your own good. They had to keep you here with them where you would be safe and secure. They could turn the base’s AI defenses to keep you here and make sure that you were safe. They could also have it alert them through their comms if you there was any trouble while they were on a mission.
You were laying on your bed with your hands behind your head. You stared at your ceiling and contemplated all that you had been through. The war, seeing comrades on the battlefield ripped apart with no way to save them as they bled out in agony. You had to protect people from that in every way that you could, and if you did die on the battlefield then that was fine by you.
The intrusion of Red and Ace barging into your room out of nowhere pulled you from your thoughts and you regarded them both with a scowl.
“What NOW!? Can’t you guys at least knock? I mean seriousl-”
Ace cut you off with a hand gesture for silence before Red spoke up.
“Listen squirt… we decided something. We can’t allow you to join us on the field anymore…”
“Didn’t you just apologize for saying that after I threatened to leave? Whatever, I am out of here!”
You hopped up to gather your belongings and set out at once, the mere sight of the two heroes making you want to go on a rampage, but Red pushed you back onto the bed, then Ace picked up where Red had left off.
“Well that’s not all, runt. We also decided… you can’t leave here either…”
You started laughing. It had to be some kind of joke. But the tension that filled the room told you otherwise. You looked from Red to Ace and the empty expression from Ace and the guilty one from Red told you that they were deadly serious.
You grabbed your sidearm and launched yourself at Ace, you weaved past Red and twirled yo get behind Ace and held your arm around his neck with your gun aimed at his head. You didn’t speak a word, your intention clear.
There was no way you would be kept here.
You couldn’t go for Red as small arms fire would bounce off of him, but at point blank range Ace was toast. You backed out of the room, pulling Ace along with you. He cooperated fully. Even a pair of overprotective psychos didn’t want their brains blown out.
Out of nowhere a robotic arm emerged from one of the sockets in the walls. It seized your gun and then Ace flipped your positions with him behind you.
They had reprogrammed the defenses of the base to not allow you to have a weapon. These two were not former generals for nothing. They knew how their adversary, you, would react.
You slammed your foot down on Ace’s and smacked your head behind him to hit his nose. Such weak attacks did nothing to dislodge you from his ironclad grasp.
“Stop this childish behavior and just accept things. This is for your own good. If anything this little outburst has proven that you need to be protected because you certainly cannot control your emotions!”
Red was in front of you, still looking at you with that guilty expression.
“I’ll go get your weapons from your room.”
Ace and you watched in the doorway as Red got a sack and rummaged through every single inch of your private space to look for what was now contraband.
“Come on! If you are going to keep me here at least don’t go invading my privacy like this!”
Much to your embarrassment you actually cried a bit as the large man went through all your things.
He started by removing your pistols from your weapon’s display case. Your Beretta M9, your SIG Sauer P320, you… dear god no… not your baby, not your Magnum Research BFR!
You thrashed more as you saw him take that one.
Then he moved on to your bookshelf. He took out your religious text from the shelf.
“Hey, keep your grubby mitts off of that! It’s sacred!”
“Yeah, Red, don’t you think you should focus o-”
He opened it revealing that it had been cut out and housed one of your many sidearms.
“Of course,” Ace said flatly.
When Red finished with all your pistols he moved on to the ones mounted on your wall. Your Mauser M 98, your Browning BLR, and your little Marlin 70PSS.
The rest of the search was much the same. All but one had been found. Red had to get a second bag for them all. The ones in your desk, under your bed, and the one in your mattress.
Well at least they hadn’t found your most precious gun-child…
“Okay I think I got them all. Nowhere else to search. Be truthful, did I miss any?”
You wiped the tears out of your eyes and lied convincingly. You tried to look as defeated as you could.
“No”
Ace moved the two of you out of the way so Red could take your weaponry to the armory. As he started to leave the room he noticed his footsteps sounded odd in one place.
He pressed his large foot down in the spot a few times, narrowing his eyes.
Fuck.
He bent down and realized he could remove the floor board under the rug in that spot.
He found it, the bag unzipped and your M1 Garand joined the rest of your firearms.
“NOOOO!!! That one is my favorite! It PINGS when you use it!”
Now you were truly defeated, they had gotten every single one of them…
“Holy fuck, how many did you need??”
Ace joined in.
“Yeah that’s all a bit… much…”
“If your only offensive power came from guns then you would make sure to have one near you at all times in case of infiltration or emergencies…”
Ace sighed and let you return to your bed in peace. Or what peace could be had in your glorified prison.
Later in the evening they knocked on your door.
“Hey, we made your favorite food for dinner! And made your favorite dessert too…”
That was Red, you could hear the nervousness in his voice. He knew you would hate him now. You ignored them.
“Come on, don't be like this, you have to eat!”
And that was Ace, insisting that not complying with his psychopathic behavior was childish.
You opened the door and took the food tray. Both of them smiled.
“There, see? We can all still get along. We worked very hard on that meal for you!”
You were sure that they had, they were both skilled cooks. You stared at them expressionless and slammed the tray into their faces before slamming the door.
Ace looked furious but Red held him back.
“Come on Ace… they just need to adjust…”
But you refused to adjust. You ate only when they were out of the house. As the days went by you didn’t speak a single solitary word to either of them, you may as well have been a ghost.
Well… it would have been. Had you not been doing your best to make them the two most miserable men on the planet. You destroyed all the toilet paper, clogging every toilet in the base with it, you destroyed the fridge twice, you broke the TV, tore the couch, the robotic arms stopped you, of course, but you could manage to do a bit of damage each time before it stopped you.
Even Red was getting annoyed with your behavior.
They had both tried everything to get you to behave. Punishments ranging from not eating anything but flavorless oatmeal for days to being forced to sleep in a bed with one of them so they could make sure you didn’t cause any destruction while they slept.
Finally they had had enough, things could not continue on like this and it seemed like you may never open your eyes and see that they were just trying to keep you safe. Without them you’d have ran right into the jaws of danger.
They discussed it among themselves and had one more idea. You needed to feel loved in every possible way. They loved you so much after all, that’s what all this had been about, to protect you because they cared for you. But clearly they needed to step things up a notch or ten.
When they came home that day they barged into your room and grabbed you, taking you kicking and screaming into one of the many spare rooms the base had.
They had outfitted it with a huge bed, the walls painted your favorite color, fresh roses filled a heart shaped vase on the nightstand.
“Let go of me! What did you drag me here just to give me a newer bigger room? A prison is still a prison…”
“It’s going to be…” Red started.
“Our love… nest…” Ace finished, blush evident on his face.
“No thanks. Fucking weirdos.”
“Come on, sex is known to alleviate one’s mood!”
“Yeah, just give it a chance”
Ace smashed his lips into yours and kissed you deeply, you looked at him stunned.
They were serious… You wanted to wretch… Fervently you struggled, trying to get out of Red’s grip but he handed you off to Ace who wrapped his wing around you and led you to the bed.
They took your clothing off before moving on to your own. All of you had scars due to combat and training, and you had seen them nude in the showers before, but this was different. For the first time you felt vulnerable and scared under their combined gaze.
You covered your genitals but they each removed and held one arm so they could appreciate the view. “Come on, don’t be like that. Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Ace whispered as he spread your legs apart.
“Red, did you bring the lube?”
“Yeah, right here.”
Red opened a bottle and lathered both of their growing cocks so that they were drenched with the stuff and then pressed some to your hole and massaged it in. They had no intention of letting this be a painful experience for you. They wanted to show how much they cared about you.
You tried to clench. To close yourself off from them. But the probing fingers would not be denied. You squirmed uncomfortably at the sensation of cold lube being worked into you.
“Try to relax, it will be much better if you embrace us.”
“FUCK YO-”
Red cut you off with a kiss. You tried to bite his tongue but his tongue was no more vulnerable than the rest of his body.
Two sets of hand roamed and pet, and groped your body. Gently caressing you as Red made out with you. When they felt as if they had explored every part of your body they flipped you on to your belly, with Red on his knees in front of you. His crotch level with your face.
Ace was behind you on his knees between your legs, holding them still as he wedged himself closer to your entrance, until the tip of his cock was kissing it.
You couldn’t kick because he had control of your legs. You couldn’t punch because Red had your arms pinned. Now they just had to plug your bratty mouth and you wouldn’t have any means of protest. Verbal or otherwise.
They knew you’d try to bite so Red took your mouth, claiming it with his cock. You tried to move and turn away but once Ace sank his cock into your sensitive depths you gasped in surprise so Red took the chance to put his cock in your soft mouth. He did not go in balls deep, neither of them had yet. They wanted you to enjoy it. To relax. Not worry about being hurt or gagged.
Red humped into your mouth carefully and slowly while Ace did the same behind you.
“Damn, for someone so opposed to it you fit me so well.”
Then Ace added, “Your mouth feels amazing babe. He used his thumb to draw lazy circles into your arms where he held them down. He sighed in pleasure when he felt the pleasured moans Ace was coaxing out of you. Much to your dismay.
But you couldn’t deny that it felt nice. Your body relaxed, just a bit, as the men slowly bred a bit of the stress you had been under out of it.
Now that it seemed that you were enjoying yourself, even though reluctantly, Ace decided he could speed up just a bit, rolling his hips as his cock dug further into you.
Red was going a bit faster too now that you had acclimated and stopped trying to resist so hard. He let your arms go, sure that you had finally realized how silly fighting was. The large man stroked your cheek as he continued thrusting into those sweet lips.
Ace was the first to cum, his wings outstretching fully and deep voice gasping as his large nuts filled you with wave after wave of his seed. His large cock twitched inside of you, pushing you over the edge and into your own orgasm.
Feeling all your muffled cries of pleasure right in his prick caused Red to start cumming. He pulled out, not wanting to choke you on his copious amount of semen that he knew all super soldiers produced in spades, instead cumming all over your face.
Ace pulled out of you and was the first to speak.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You didn’t respond, you were still panting from the workout you had just received. You didn’t protest when Ace pulled you into his lap and held you with your head nestled into his chest. Your head laying right on his hawk tattoo. You didn’t protest when red scooted beside him and kissed you tenderly on the forehead. You even let them clean you up and feed you your favorite meal that they diligently cooked for you while you waited politely on the couch. They figured your resistance to them before was just because you had needs that weren’t getting met.
And from that day forward they knew that anytime you got too snarky or rebellious all they had to do was make time to fuck the brattiness out of you.
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tojisun · 3 months
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hai i literally dont know if u accept porn links or not but like https://x.com/mommysvault/status/1733304031165153683?s=20
bimbo!reader and simon??
p link! stared with wide eyes and jaw dropped because yes ur right???? that is bimbo!reader getting overstimulated by simon n his thick fingers [heart eyes]!!!!
…lemme just spiral rq!
!! smut - minors dni; female reader; size difference
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“on me, sweets,” simon murmurs before hefting you on top of him, grunting in quiet satisfaction when he feels, and sees, the way your tits press against his chest, the touch of soft pudge sending shivers racing from the back of his neck to his toes.
you whimper, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck, and the sticky feeling of your lipgloss leaves the warm puffs of your breaths tickling his skin. simon grunts once before smoothing his hand down your back, patting at the top of your head before running his palm down your spine.
your breath hitches when his hand falls just above your ass, massaging at the mounds before swiping down, going lower, teasing, and-
“si!” you cry, buckling away from the swipe of his finger against your clothed cunt.
“shh,” simon murmurs, pressing his lips just above the shell of your burning ear. “stay still, sweetheart.”
you do so with a huff and simon chuckles, kissing you again as a little reward, before sliding his fingers purposefully against the building dampness of where your cunt is. he croons at your mewl, not stopping even when your hips jerk away for a moment, your thighs strained in tension, and your hands tight as they grip at his shoulders.
simon trails his fingers along the slit of your cunt, feeling at the damp folds, and muffling his groan on your temple when his index dips lower as it reaches your hole. simon presses into it, the cloth of your panties going taut with every push, and he chuckles at the squeal you make at the feeling.
he teases you for a while, uncaring of your pleas, until he hears a wet sob and simon is quick to kiss your head in apology, his groping hand easing up if only to finally tear your panties away. the fabric doesn’t even slide down completely, only stopping just below the fat of your ass, but simon thinks that’s good enough.
an adjustment would be needed when he’ll fuck you but, well, he’s not fucking you yet, will he? …oops.
you tip your head up at the very moment simon spreads your folds apart, and simon goes breathless at having seen the way your dazed look melts into one of cathartic pleasure.
“jesus, lovie. fuckin’ perfect, y’are,” simon rasps out, overtaken with such primal hunger at seeing the clear euphoria rolling off of you.
he plunges his fingers in, the slide of their length so familiar as they breach past your plush walls, and simon groans at the tight clench of your cunt while you keen, long and high-pitched. he is drunk off of your reactions – legs kicking up towards your ass, your fingers digging into the sheets, your head falling back to his chest as you cry – and he watches with rapt attention, devouring the sight you make as he fucks his fingers in-and-out of you, building a tempo that punches out squeaks from your pretty lips.
at the next curl of your leg, simon wraps his fist around your ankle and pulls. it is a gentle action, nothing too drastic, but just one that opens you up even more to him. simon’s fingers fuck in deeper, your cunt taking him up to the knuckles, and you choke on a moan, your voice giving out at the explosion of pleasure racing through your veins.
“fuck!” your scream is guttural and simon watches – always watching; unable to look away – enamoured, as you hump your hips to his fingers, fucking yourself on them with addicting experience.
simon giggles, elated and drunk.
he nuzzles his cheek to the top of your head, spreading his fingers apart and letting out a dreamy sigh when your cunt snaps them back together again.
“tight and wet. fuckin’ hell, sweets. y’r just too perfect for me.”
you garble out a response, unintelligible, and simon just coos at his pretty little girlfriend, dumb and drunk on pleasure.
and that’s just his fingers.
simon laughs again, this one just a bite too mean.
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the way i bookmarked this video 😔🫶🏼
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tteokdoroki · 8 months
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. baby talk.
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about. you know how people raise their voices all high and squeal, and pout through their words when they talk to babies?…yeah? well imagine that with your husband, katsuki.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, baby talking (lots of w’s involved), cutesy speech, baby doesn’t have a name, new parents, reader is referred to as mommy, fem!reader, girl dad + pro hero!bakugou, uncle!deku.
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you’ve always known your husband, bakugou, to be slightly rough around the edges. being the man that he is, and witnessing first hand every struggle he’s ever gone through, it’s hard to imagine him without his hardened outer shell. your katsuki has stood on the brink of death more than once — testing, fighting it… all while facing a world that saw him as good for nothing and evil. 
how could you expect a man like that to be anything other than defensive, brash and bold? katsuki bakugou can be a little harsh, a little too mean at times but that’s never deterred you from giving him all the love he thinks he doesn’t deserve. you’d give him all the stars in the sky if you could, and he would give you the universe in turn. 
he was far from cookie cutter perfect, yet, even with his bumps and sharp edges, katsuki tried to love you and let you in. still, you’d never thought you’d see the day when all of the blonde’s roughness, his bared fangs and callous tongue all melted away for another human being aside from you. 
for your darling baby girl. 
“who’s my ‘eepy lil’ girl? you are! yeah. you are, sweetheart. oh, what’s that? big yawn for daddy?” the blonde coos with a sunshine smile that lights up the entirety of his well-aged face. you’re still young, for parents of a eight month old but even you can see the way that his hair is slightly silvered at his undercut that’s growing out and there are finer lines under ruby framed eyes (the late nights and early starts are probably the reason for that). 
still, with all of this, and even with your genetics throwing a spanner in the works — your daughter is the spitting image of bakugou and he loves her. he loves her pale blonde curls, big bambi red eyes and her all the parts about her that remind him of you. 
pulling her from her crib to settle her on his hip, the bigger bakugou rubs the sleep from her eyes as she wakes up from her nap. “so freakin’ cute.” he hums, licking his thumb to wipe over the traces of tears on her cheeks.
ever since she was born, earlier and around spring time, bakugou has been absolutely obsessed with the tiny human version of him you'd blessed him with. he’ll be the first one up at the crack of dawn when she cries for her breakfast, he’s happy to carry around her dynamight themed baby bag and always apologises to you when you have to change her explosive diapers (or he just does it for you.).
baby dynamight goes everywhere with her daddy, she’d be on patrols if you’d let bakugou take her on them too. she’s absolutely spoiled as well, with more clothes and toys and itty bitty little shoes a baby of her age would need despite how often you tell your husband that she’ll just grow out everything. perhaps your little girl is more spoiled than you — not that you mind, because it only means you get to witness adorable moments like these each and every day.
“katsuki, she’s supposed to be lying down.” you remind him gently, stepping past the threshold of the nursery to be by his side. your daughter instantly reaches out to curl three of her tiny fingers around your index, drooling in content between both of her parents.
bakugou looks down at you with a distraught pout. “yeah… but she woke up cryin’ f’me so i came to check on my sweepy wittol pwincess.” you giggle at how high pitched katsuki makes his voice when he talks about your daughter, baby-talking her whilst waving her tiny little hand at you. “say hi to momma, sweet girl. say hi!” 
the mini bakugou tucked into his bulky arms lets out an excited squeal — though she’s quickly distracted by mapping her hands up and down the squiggly lines (tattoos) on daddy’s arms. 
“exactly,” you press, grabbing an uravity themed spit up cloth from the diaper station behind you moth. carefully, you mop up the drool tracks baby dynamight leaves on katsuki before dabbing at her chin as well. “we’re trying to get her to learn how to go back to sleep on her own. which means?” 
“leavin’ her to cry until she falls back to sleep….” 
“which is why?” 
bakugou’s shoulders sag in defeat. you know how much he hates leaving her to cry, it’s been difficult for him to adjust to not just picking her up whenever she needs or he wants to. “you invited stupid deku over ‘n daddy has to have stupid drinks with his big stupid broccoli head, ain’t that right gorgeous?” your baby grins with her gums again and bakugou blows a raspberry at her. “oh yeah? yes it is! look at that pretty girl smilin’, just like momma.” 
you know he’s trying to butter you up for more time with her — you’re a sucker for the father-daughter bond they have already, you fear that you might melt if you look at the two of them together any longer. they’re a sight for sore eyes, the two loves of your life cuddled up with each other, baby bakugou’s pudgy cheek resting on katsuki’s warm chest (no doubt lulling her back to sleep).
“katsuki please,” you plead weakly, ready to give up on being the rain on this baby parade so you can scoop your little girl up and shower her with kisses. “we have guests and she needs to go back to sleep. or she’ll be up in the middle of the night.” 
the elder blonde can’t help the proud smile that illuminates his face as he watches his two girls together — the way you fiddle with her baby grow to make sure she’s cosy. “s’okay, daddy’ll wake up for you, won’t he?” bakugou sways from side to side, toying with all the tiny features on your daughter before catching your exasperated look. “alright, fine. back to sleep we go princess. don’t mind mommy, she’s jus’ bein’ meanie who won’t let me show you off.” 
there’s a tender moment, where time stands still, while katsuki lowers his pride and joy back into her crib — fighting back what are probably tears as she clings onto every part of him, looking up at him with her matching big beautiful ruby eyes. he feels as though he’s looking into a mirror that reflects not only him but parts of you as well. 
“night night princess, goodnight! daddy loves ya—“
said moment is lost when izuku stops by the nursery on his way back down stairs from the bathroom. “wait, kacchan baby-talks?” 
“of course i do nerd!” bakugou’s head whips up faster than the speed of sound, and you have to refrain from laughing at how fast he goes from soft and tender father to deku’s public enemy number one. “she’s my fuckin’—”  the blonde pauses after receiving a warning glance from you. no cursing in front of the baby. “freakin’ kid!”
the number one raises his hands in surrender, sheepish laughter spilling out of him. “relax kacchan! i was only teasing.” 
“tease my ass! you go ‘nd have a kid with your partner ‘n see what it turns you into — in fact, ‘m surprised you don’t have a whole litter already. what with the way you two are fuckin’.”
“oh that’s rich coming from you, kacchan. you guys  literally conceived at my family barbecue last year!” 
“well you fucked on my desk. my desk. so it’s only right that we—!” 
while the boys bicker, you make quick work of ensuring your daughter is safely tucked in and her pacifier is popped into her mouth just in case she wakes up again and needs to soothe herself. stroking back her peach fuzz curls, you press a kiss to the soft membrane of her skull and pull back with a wistful grin while she drifts off to sleep again. her unfairly long lashes flutter against your hand, mostly inherited from her father.
“alright boys, that’s enough!” you whisper yell, hands still on the bar of the crib to make “don’t you see that she’s sleeping again? we wouldn’t wanna wake her up, right?” 
katsuki pouts. “you’re right, sorry, sweetness.” 
midoriya nods along agreeably, taking a peek at his sleeping niece from the doorway.“right! otherwise we’d have to send daddy back in there to save baby girl’s day. he can’t resist his pwecious gwirl.” 
“i said shut the fuck up, izuku!” your husband snarls, cheeks burning fire truck red. 
“yes daddy!” izuku bats his eyelashes at him.
“i’ll kill you, nerd.”
“i’d like to see you try, daddy!”
“boys!” 
you do try your best to intercept, but your daughter beats you to it — waking up with a fresh set of tears and a wail so loud it has two big, burly pro heroes baby-talking her in an attempt to get her right back to sleep.  
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years
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“That’s T.N.T. They’re Pouring!” Kingston Whig-Standard. March 31, 1942. Page 2. ---- In this photo, it appears the men are bakers making some good old-fashioned butterscotch pies. But in reality they are pouring one of the deadliest explosives known — T.N.T. — into heavy shells at a Canadian shell plant. These shells are being turned out at the rate of many thousands a day, and the men who do this work hope that at least one finds the leaders of the Axis.
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dashofghost · 1 month
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explosions
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when an explosion goes off in the field, simon's mask comes off
part of the unmasked!simon universe
next part
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The explosion rocks your entire world, literally. You spit up blood as you push yourself up on your elbows, a dull throbbing blooming behind your eyes as you force them open. The sunlight blaring in your eyes dims for a second, and your head lulls back of its own accord as a dark shadow looms over you. Ghost. 
His lips move, and you hear the words behind a veil of ringing and dust. They’re muted, like he’s speaking underwater. You try to push yourself to your feet, but your head spins and you land back on your elbows. 
Something sticky clings to your uniform. You move to wipe it away, and the fluid soaks your hand, strangely warm. When you bring it up in front of your face, you find it soaked in blood.
Your head swims, and something grabs your arm, tethering you to the rough ground underneath you. You cough, watching as more blood splatters across your uniform. You hear Ghost swear as he crouches beside you, yelling something about a medic into his radio. 
“Stay with me, private,” he orders gruffly. His brows are furrowed in determination as he presses one of hands against the wound in your side that you’ve just begun to feel, the adrenaline starting to wear off. 
You see it before he does: a shell dropping out of the sky, landing with an innocent clink. You cough again, trying to clear your throat, desperately pulling at Ghost’s sleeve. 
“Ghost,” you choke out, blood coating your gums, “there’s a-”
He throws himself over you as the second explosion detonates: rocks swirl through the air and the ground ripples like waves. Ghost’s eyes screw shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he braces himself. 
Wait. His lips?
As the aftershocks set in, you lookup and realize that Ghost’s mask is gone. 
He’s just as shocked as you are: the black eyepaint setting off the confusion in his dark eyes, framed with pale blond lashes. His cheekbones are set regally high, between them, a nose that’s been broken at least a few times. Scars and freckles sweep across his cheek, ending at his too-full bottom lip. The wind whips honey strands across his forehead, back towards his ears, into his eyes. 
“You’re blond,” you cough out. Ghost’s hand reaches up, pressing into his bare skin, splaying out over his hollowed cheeks. He looks like he’s touching it for the first time, lashes almost brushing his cheek as he looks down. He cradles his cheek, covering as much of his face as he can. Caught between devotion and destruction. 
“Yeah,” he mutters. His fingers push harder against your wound, gloves soaked with blood as he swears again, and you notice his teeth toying with his lips again. 
The roar of a helicopter rings out from the sky, and Ghost’s head whips around. His fingers skitter across the ground to scoop up his balaclava, shaking as he pulls it back over his head. It’s messy and out of place and his soft look of shock is tattooed into your brain. 
You cling to his neck as he picks you up, eyes squinting against the roar of the blades as Ghost carries you to the helicopter. The sound goes in and out: one moment, you can hear Ghost's voice booming frantically as he wraps a bandage around you, the next, only a ringing silence. The chopper bleeds in and out of focus as you start to hyperventilate, head throbbing. 
The last thing you remember is Ghost gripping your hand. 
When you open your eyes, Ghost is there.
He’s curled up in a medbay chair he’s way too big for, head lolling against his chest. He’s stripped out of his gear, wearing only basic issue cargo pants and a black thermal top. His mask is still on, though his eyepaint is lighter. 
His face flashes before your eyes again. 
You shift, and his eyes snap open. He looks around for a second before his eyes land on you, and he pushes his chair next to your bed. 
“Hey, love,” he whispers, and you shift onto your side, facing him. You try to control the blush fanning out over your cheeks: if only you didn’t have the biggest crush on your own lieutenant. 
“Your face,” you blurt out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to see it,” you trail off, and Simon snorts, brows pinching together.
“Get nicked in the side and the first thing you do is start fuckin’ apologizing,” he grumbles, “s’not your fault, lovie. Besides,” he starts, lowering his head, “if there’s anyone I’d want to know what I look like, it’d be you.”
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this is shit I swear I can write better than this. more updates soon.
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radiance1 · 6 months
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Based off of the second reblogg made by this wonderful person @percyisawesome
Taking that idea.
So, the Nasty Burger explosion took place, killing everyone Danny loved an shi, then he defeats Dark Danny but Clockwork doesn't reset time so his friends and family still dead dead.
Then he gets captured by the GIW, experimented on and all of that shebang. Then, the GIW makes the decision to try and split him apart, which they succeed in doing because obviously the Fenton boy might be possessed by phantom instead of phantom pretending to be the boy.
So it works, but since ghosts are beings of pure emotions, Danny is just zapped of every human emotion. Nothing but a shell that runs on pure, undeniable logic. Which puts off the GIW, and causes them to hate Phantom even more, because it's obvious that Phantom did something to this poor, poor child who was forced into this very obviously without his input.
Then they just, drop Danny off in Amity Park. All alone, in a far too big and dangerous house with a dead family that he'll never see again. So, what does Danny do? He learns, going through each and every blueprint and file left behind by his parents before his death, even the unfinished blueprints he delves into, completes, even makes his own.
He learns everything dealing with weaponry against ghosts, then starts to learn how to hack into things, almost of par with Tucker but ever a step below him, he learns about plants and their poisons, from non-lethal to extremely deadly.
He learns, and he learns.
Distantly, in the back of his mind that he's tried to push out, is the overwhelming agony being projected to him through the bridge between him and phantom.
The separation of them may have stripped him of his emotions, but not his ability to make ambitions, nor stripped him of motivation.
When the GIW facility fell, it was the easiest thing in his life. They weren't expecting anyone to even know of their location, nor how to hack through their servers and mess with the security system or the power running through the facility. Their unpreparedness was Danny's gain.
The most logical and easiest outcome for the GIW to not be a threat anymore, would be death. So put to death they were, some parts of the facility were contaminated with toxic gas, other parts their own security system against them, or he exterminated them himself when they managed to encounter him.
He had a multitude of weaponry at his disposal hidden away on his body in the form of small trinkets. Ranging from knives, swords, guns, poison, explosives, gauntlets disguised as gloves, etc, etc. All of which, he used to raid the GIW facility and worked exactly to his calculations, letting him calmly walk through the halls and dispatching the stray few that managed to go his way.
He did not care for other ghosts, they were unnecessary in his calculations, whether they managed to escape or not in the oppurtunity he set was up to them. He only came here for one being, his other half.
Phantom.
When he found the cell keeping him contained and opened the door, he would imagine that if he were still capable of feeling, he would be experiencing a large of rage at what he saw. Instead, he cut off the chains keeping his other half fixed to the wall, tore off multiple strips of cloth to wrap around the various wounds on his body- most notable being a vivisection scar, and picked him up to carry outside, and away from the facility.
He already had everything he could've gotten from the database of this facility, but he would most definitely be coming back. The amount of high tech laying around would be a shame if rusted from disuse, especially when it would be impossible to acquire through his own means.
He might even move everything from the Fenton house over here, if only for shorter access to far better equipment.
A few days later, and he does just that. Cleaning up the entire facility- with added help from Phantom- and establishing it as his new base of operations. It's incredibly isolated, well hidden, and has multiple more defenses than just his parent's ghost defenses, defenses that he could use to make this place into a neigh-impenetrable fortress.
Phantom was relatively 'fine' with the move, after being persuaded by Danny. Though he has a high aversion to certain areas, which is understandable, with what he went through.
At the behest of Phantom, the lab coat he frequently wears is fitted more to be a cloak, and to complete the look, a highly advanced gas mask. Phantom said it was 'cool', and, well Phantom was the only one able to put dents in his logic to get his way when he really, really wanted to. Said lab coat was fitted with a high number of smaller- but extensively powerful- ghost shields, while his gas mask acted as a voice changer, an actual gas mask, and a literal laser (That to activate, it's mouth would 'open' and fire).
After Phantom recovered, he still had the ambition to be a hero, even though the threat of ghosts was at an all-time low. Danny would support him, of course, in anyway he wanted, but Danny would not join him.
His goal was to dissolve the Anti-ecto acts, so if that meant he had to drown his hands in the blood of others to achieve it, then so be it. Unfortunately, Phantom wouldn't allow him to harm the innocent, which he would account as collateral damage if it were to happen, so he would have to use different methods than the hostile takeover he used to claim ownership of their new base.
Besides, the Justice league, and the world of heroes, would be a major problem for said hostile takeover. A very true point, told to him by Phantom.
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derehono · 1 month
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24.02.2022.
The day that changed my life forever.
24th of February 2022 should have been my usual day. No, not usual. A wonderful day. I should have been checked with a doctor, gave notice to teachers in high school of my absence, and then fly away on vacation, my parents wanted it so much.
On 23rd of February 2022 I felt happy. I had a secure, happy life, preparing to finals, hanging out with my friends, already having an offer from university.
Until 5AM 24.02.2022.
I had not a single class in my school since then.
I haven’t seen my friend group in 2 years.
I didn’t have my finals.
We did not have that vacation.
“Daughter, wake up. This old psychotic man attacked us. We are leaving.”
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That was my first photo of the day, trying sarcastically keep myself normal. I remember that actual emptiness, reading my classmates texts about how their windows were shaking because of explosions, the sky was orange. They sent that video.
He called it “a special military operation”.
I collected random clothes, some hobby stuff just to keep my sanity, grabbed my pet, emptied my safety locker. I was scared that russians would intrude into our home and steal all my savings, so I throw away key to that lock. This key became my symbol of war, I have never found it even after return.
When I with my parents and pet got out of flat to car we heard for the very first time air raid siren. We would hear so many more of them, we would learn to differentiate them, but then we were confused.
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It was my second photo. People were going away. Foot, cars, bicycles. I remember such a surreal picture. Some moms were carrying their toddlers, one woman was carrying a bucket of water with turtles, other people were carrying cages with parrots, with dogs, with cats, with exotic pets despite air raid siren, temperature, rain. Everyone was so confused and scared.
Few days later the road we were riding was occupied. Bridges destroyed. Factories burnt. Supermarkets demolished. Houses in ruins. Road in holes. On the side of the road burnt cars with “DO NOT TOUCH, POSSIBLY EXPLOSIVE”. That gut wrenching feeling seeing photos of dead bodies and recognising the place.
But back then it was still lively, not a road of death. I remember reading news then. First victims, first shelling. Invasion from East. Invasion from Kharkiv region. Invasion from Crimea. Invasion from Chernihiv. Invasion from Zhytomyr. And we were in Zhytomyr region at that moment. Explosions in Kyiv. The border was destroyed.
I felt nothing. Just emptiness.
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This precious girl was keeping my head cool all the road. She was also scared and irritated, but she was so strong, such an amazing girl. I am so proud of her.
We were heading to my grandparents who lived closer to West Ukraine, so we would be safer. The road that takes usually just 4 hours but that time it took 13 hours. 13 hours of driving exhausted and nerved. We saw soldiers, trucks, jets, how barricades were built, signs were removed.
But we made it. We were lucky. Lucky to be alive, to have family alive and mostly close to West, further from russia. Even though, part of my extended family still was under occupation in Chernihiv region, suffering from such close border with belarus.
When we arrived, we were just silent. Then collected mattresses for shelter, asked grandpa to grab some patrol (we knew that they would definitely destroy reservoirs and literally next day the started doing that), and just fell asleep in something that we arrived in, being so scared.
That day I also cut ties with russian friend who I am shamed to admit having. He was proving me that this is just a military operation, no one would be harmed.
Then, arrived spring that I will never forget but at the same time never remember. I remember 10 people in one floor house. I remember the whistle of rocket that woke us up. I remember sirens. I remember news. I remember losing hope. I remember first photos after deoccupation of Kyiv region. I remember how forgotten friend of my dad suddenly called him saying that his city is fully destroyed, his neighbour right on his eyes was exploded attempting to get into the car and evacuate.
I remember my first mental breakdown. How I was crying in the darkness, but quietly so no one would notice.
We were able to return home three months later. But we are just lucky. Someone would never return. Someone is not even alive to see their home again. Someone’s home is forever destroyed.
I was lucky that I have secured my place at foreign university before war, but my whole family is still in Ukraine.
War is not over at all. 20% of Ukraine is occupied. So many displaced civilians, so many deaths. No one could even count, we do not have any access to bodies. Only way to identify is to deoccupy and find mass graves. No other means. Children are suffering from PTSD even in such a young age. Almost in every city, big or small, you would find graveyards covered in Ukrainian flag, grave of the soldier.
Maybe media does not talk that much of us, but it doesn’t mean that everything is alright. Avdiivka is destroyed, right now operation searching for people under debris of the civilian house after attack is undergoing.
And this is happening all the time.
Who was punished for Olenivka? Who was punished for destruction of Kakhovka Dam? Who was punished for all fully destroyed cities? Who was responsible for all that absolutely atrocious videos torturing Ukrainian soldiers?
Please, remember, Ukraine is still on fire. People are still dying. Soldiers cannot even counterattack because they do not have enough ammo, just for protection. Information war is also waging, sharing all that misinformation, Nazi narratives, russian propaganda.
Remember.
Help.
Share.
russia is a terrorist state.
Glory to Ukraine.
Glory to the Heroes.
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strats-blood · 1 year
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I saw a man this morning Who did not wish to die; I ask, and cannot answer, If otherwise wish I. Fair broke the day this morning    Against the Dardanelles; The breeze blew soft, the morn's cheeks      Were cold as cold sea-shells. But other shells are waiting      Across the Aegean sea, Shrapnel and high explosive,      Shells and hells for me. O hell of ships and cities, Hell of men like me, Fatal second Helen,      Why must I follow thee? Achilles came to Troyland     And I to Chersonese: He turned from wrath to battle,     And I from three days' peace. Was it so hard, Achilles, So very hard to die? Thou knewest and I know not— So much the happier I. I will go back this morning From Imbros over the sea; Stand in the trench, Achilles,      Flame-capped, and shout for me.
— I Saw A Man This Morning, by Patrick Shaw-Stewart
(context and some incoherent opinions below)
CONTEXT: Shaw-Stewart was a British soldier in WWI. His only poem, ‘I Saw A Man This Morning,’ was written in a period of rest before returning to fighting and was published posthumously. He was killed in battle in 1917.
this is one of my all-time favourite poems. like, it lives rent free in my head and sometimes i just recite it to myself and go insane the repetition of ‘hell’ in the fourth stanza and then its echo in the name helen?? like omg? and those last two lines – ‘stand in the trench, Achilles, / Flame-capped, and shout for me.’ SCREAM i struggle to form coherent thoughts about this poem but yeah it’s pretty awesome
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taviamoth · 22 days
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🚨 The US government secretly conducted 100 secret arms sales to the zionist entity since October 7th, according to a classified briefing to congress.
Until now, just two deals were publicly known since October: $106 million worth of tank ammunition, and $147.5 million of parts used to make 155m shells. Even for these two deals, the criminal Biden administration bypassed Congress to send the aid to the IOF.
These 100 secret deals were made because they fell under a specific dollar amount that required notifying the public. They include thousands of precision-guided bombs, bunker busters, and other weapons, highlighting the high dependence by the IOF on American support and funding.
The IOF has dropped over 66,000 tons of explosives on the Gaza Strip, with much of the bombs US-made and US-funded. At the same time, the US feigns humanity by airdropping a miniscule amount of aid to Gazans while continuing to support their genocide.
[via RNN]
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writingjourney · 1 year
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don't make me wait | copia x reader
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summary: you make copia wait, he’s not happy about that. or alternatively: "DOM COPIA BREEDING AGAINST A DOOR" (powered by @sweatandwoe)
content: 1.5k words, afab!reader, dom!copia, smut, 18+ only, MDNI or I block you, breeding kink, rough sex, p in v, some mild degradation, they're established
Masterlist – Ao3 link
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You would keep Copia waiting. You knew you would. And yet you agreed to help a desperate Sibling study for their Latin test to avoid the wrath of Papa Secondo. You could not help it, not when they asked you with tears in their eyes, lips quivering, already shaking. And that is why you spent the past two hours in the library explaining grammar rules to a novice.
Only when the bells start chiming six do you realize that you’re not just ten minutes late to your… little meeting… but a whole hour.
There is no time to feel guilty about it. You run down the corridors in nervous anticipation, only slowing down when you reach the eerily quiet wing that houses the offices of the high-ranking clergy members. You enter Copia’s office without knocking, only to find him already waiting by the entrance. Startled, you don’t fight him when he immediately pulls you further inside and slams the door shut again. The harsh sound echoes in your head like an explosive and you squeal in surprise, almost stumbling over your own feet.
“I was coming to look for you,” Copia states and then he’s suddenly pushing you against the hard wooden door, flipping you around until his front is pressed against your back, caging you in. You have to turn your head so your nose won’t get crushed and impair your breathing. Cheek squished and one eye squeezed close, you try to catch a glimpse of him. But Copia is busy. The lock clicks, the familiar sound much closer to your ear than usual as he traps you inside of his stuffy office. You shudder in excitement. His breath is hot against your burning skin when he brings his mouth to your ear, lips grazing the shell.
“I want you,” he growls. “I’ve wanted you all f-fucking day. And you make me wait?”
You whimper as his teeth meet the skin of your neck, slowly wandering down the slope of your shoulder where he stops, taking a deep breath.
“Do you not want me?” he asks, biting you through the fabric of your habit. “Tell me, amore, have you grown tired of your Papa? Is that why you come late?”
You whimper pathetically, arching into him. He’s already hard against your ass, pushing in even more as his teeth dig into your flesh until it’s bordering painful. The thought of his strong jaw makes you suck in a sharp, lust-filled breath.
“Words,” he snarls. “Tell me, amore. Tell me you want me.”
“I want you. I want you so bad.”
He groans, dragging his hot mouth over your neck again, restless and hungry and searching. He bites the soft skin just below your ear, even harder than before, pulling at your skin before he releases. “Say it again, tesoro. Say it. Make me believe you.”
“I want you,” you whisper. “Please, I want you so much, Copia.”
He grunts, pulling back only to slam you against the door again. “It’s Papa.”
You cry out, fingers sprawled over the smooth wood for more support. “I want you so much, Papa. I want– I n-need you.”
“Again,” he growls. “Say it.”
“I want you, Papa, I want you. I need you.”
His hand finds yours and he weaves your fingers together, sliding your joint hands over your head only to grab your other hand as well, rendering you immobile as he traps them beneath his strong palm. The angle is uncomfortable, your breasts hurt from the way they are squeezed against the solid door and you know you’ll find purple bruises all over your body tomorrow.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Copia says. “And I want you to repeat your words with every thrust, amore, you understand? You beg for me like a good little whore. You beg because you made your Papa wait.”
“Y-yes.”
He groans in annoyance. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Papa. I’m sorry, Papa.”
You hear him work his pants open with his free hand, knuckles rubbing against your ass every few seconds without providing any sort of relief. It takes a while until you finally hear the buckle of his belt and then he’s hiking up your skirts so roughly that his nails bite into your soft ass cheek. You cry out when his hand finally meets your soaked panties, pushing them to the side only to slide two fingers into your dripping hole without warning. You keen, clench around him, unable to hide just how needy you are by now. 
“Oh, you like that, sì? You’re so starved for your Papa.” 
“Hmmm.”
“What did I tell you?” His voice has an unfamiliar edge to it, rougher, deeper, a timbre that has your whole pussy throbbing. “Speak.”
“Please, Papa, I n-need you. Need you inside of me, please.”
“Say that you want my cock, amore. Say it.”
You swallow, throat dry and scratchy from creating all these desperate sounds. “I want your cock, Papa. Please.”
He removes his fingers, giving you no time before his cock slides in, all the way until his whole length is buried deep inside of you. Two seconds to adjust, then he pulls out and slams back in, hard and relentless. You cry out, nails digging into the unyielding wood of the door until they hurt.
“So tight, fuck.” His free hand finds your hip, kneading the doughy flesh as he adjusts. Suddenly he gives you a hard smack to help you remember. The sound echoes in the otherwise quiet room just like the stinging pain lingers on your skin.
You speak without even thinking. “I want you so bad, Papa. Please, please fuck me.”
“That’s it. You learn, finally.”
The intermission is over. Wet, obscene sounds fill the silent office, orchestrated by Copia’s unrelenting rhythm. He fucks you like he’s been desperate to do so all day, rough, hammering thrusts that would hurt if it weren’t for the way he’s hitting you just right, dragging the tip of his cock over your sweet spot again and again. You give him what he wants, join in on his symphony with your cries and whimpers, followed by the occasional please and I need you, Papa, I want you so much. Ordinarily, you would be embarrassed that anyone walking by his office door can hear you, but you’re too far gone to care now. Every stroke carries you closer to your release and you can tell he’s close too by the way his grunts become needy and off-key.
You ignore the pain in your cheek, the pain in your fingers, the way your knees are giving out underneath you. All you can focus on is how good it feels and then he’s suddenly pulling your lower body into him with his palm against your abdomen, pushing in even deeper. You involuntarily arch your back into a painful angle but it’s too good, especially once his hand snakes under your habit, searching, warm and still wet with your juices. Once his thumb grazes your clit you come undone. Your muscles spasm and you start shaking violently as you find your release, crying in high-pitched whimpers. Copia lets out a string of curses, faltering in his rhythm.
“Beg,” he says. “Beg for my come, ask me to b-breed you like a bitch.”
You’re struggling to comprehend but another growl has you babbling. “Come for me, Papa. Please breed me, let me have your s-seed.”
Your words have him moaning desperately, a sound that makes you clench even harder around him, and suddenly he stops dead in his tracks. Another moan and he’s spilling inside of you, rope after rope, twitching wildly. You almost don’t hear his next words over your panting, even though his mouth is still right by your ear.
“I love you,” he whispers. “Oh, how I love you.”
You smile, completely spent. “I love you, too.”
Copia slowly unravels your bodies and you flinch when he pulls out, his come trickling down your thighs immediately. But you’re more concerned about your aching arms as you carefully bring them back down, your joints complaining with every centimeter. Copia reaches for your wrists, rubbing slow circles before he starts massaging your numb limbs to increase the blood flow. You can’t help but stare at his disheveled form, hair tousled and lipstick smudged, his wet, softening dick still out.
Copia  presses a soft kiss to your palm before he drops your arms, inspecting your cheek instead. “Does it hurt bad? I know I went a little crazy on you, tesorino.”
“It’s fine, I like it like that,” you reply, but when he touches your bruised cheekbone you still hiss.
Copia hums but it’s not a happy sound. “I’m sorry, amore.”
You softly shake your head and pull him in for a proper kiss. He immediately sinks into your embrace, holding you like the most precious thing, and you’re happy for the support. His lips are cautious, soothing, providing all the softness he lacked earlier. You already can’t wait to return to your quarters and sink into the silky sheets of your shared bed.
When you break away, Copia rests his forehead against yours, nuzzling your nose. “You really should not make an old man wait like this,” he says. “I get so worked up, amore.”
You can’t help but grin. “Actually, my love, I think I should be late way more often.”
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earthnashes · 11 months
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BOOM!
The explosion of Hookbill the Horrible's giant shell shatters the sky and leave's Melon's ears ringing. All at once there's chaos; Hookbill himself-- once a giant terror, and now shrunken down to a pitiful koopa-- plummets off the platform they battled on. Lakitus fill the sky of their lair in a frenzy, shouting in panic and split between fleeing, or diving to try and grab their boss mid-fall. There are giant shell fragments everywhere, splintering like shooting stars all around, and Melon has to concentrate hard not to get hit. He jumps from the crumbling stone platform to land on a hovering sphere, but the moment his weight hits it the number on it's side begins to tick tick tick.
7... 6... 5...
Melon makes a frazzled sound while whipping his tail, tapdancing his paws anxiously, glancing everywhere. Looking for anything that could serve as something to keep him and baby Mario from plummeting to the hard earth below, but he sees nothing.
4...
With little choice, Melon barks at baby Mario to hang on before he begins sprinting, hopping like a bunny on each platform as its countdown continues.
3...
They're quickly running out of ground. Melon's heart pounds as he runs, and he sees the end of the line.
2...
He's fallen from high heights before, but this is really cutting it close! Melon only hopes he has enough magic to cushion their fall. And as the final platform comes up, Melon grits his teeth--
...1.
--and leaps.
He expects them to plummet just as Hookbill did. And for the most part, they do, clouds and fragments zipping past them and the wind whistling in their ears. But suddenly, Melon feels Mario shifting around on his back; he can't really see what the boy is doing, and immediately feels panic when the arms around his neck are suddenly gone.
Did Mario lose his grip?!
Melon doesn't get the chance to look; Mario's weight has vanished from his back... only for a strong hand to grasp his paws, and suddenly, Melon is no longer falling.
He's flying.
Melon blinks once, twice, three times, before he snaps his eyes up above him. If he hadn't seen it with his own two eyes, he wouldn't've believed it. Mario meets his look with a starry, fiery one of his own. He gives the binkie a single chew.
Melon isn't the one flying. Mario is.
The baby carries him as if he weighed little more than a bag, a brilliant yellow cape billowing out behind him as he pulls up. Melon can't help but wonder how how how? But as they pass the tearfully Hookbill in their descent, a memory flashes through his mind.
The Super Star fruit... that had to be it! Hookbill ate half of one to get larger before he attacked. Mario must've picked up the leftover while Melon was occupied with the battle.
However it happened, Melon felt a proud grin stretch across his face. His previously panicked barks became ones of excitement, and he kicks his paws in a mimic of a Flutter Kick.
Down they go!
-----
Unbeknownst to either baby Mario or Melon, little red-faced creatures land atop the clouds behind them. Glowing white eyes watch the pair's decent as they disappear into the trees, followed only by the echo of Melon's barking.
The Tweeters chirp at one another before they take off in the opposite direction...
—–
Part 6<<– Part 7 (CURRENT) –>> Part 8
Retelling of Yoshi’s Island from the perspective of one specific Yoshi (Melon) on a quest to get baby Mario home! There is an update every Monday. :)
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♦️ National Resistance Brigades (Martyr Omar Al-Qasim Forces)
Watch: The achievements of the National Resistance Brigades (Martyr Omar Al-Qasim Forces) during the battle of Al-Aqsa Flood.
The battle continues.
Notes:
0:03 - The Martyr Omar Al-Qasim Forces engaged in numerous combat missions as part of the battle of Al-Aqsa Flood as part of the response to the crimes of the zionist occupation.
0:16 - During the battle, several of its leaders and fighters were martyred, and others were wounded with various injuries.
0:40 - More than 80 rocket barrages were launched during the battle, alongside the national resistance factions, towards the occupation's settlements.
0:50 - Mortar squads shelled the enemy's infiltrations in all combat axes, completing no less than 160 missions.
1:15 - Our fighters detonated several high-powered explosive devices targeting a number of the occupation's vehicles infiltrating the combat axes.
1:24 - Targeting of 25 military vehicles and a gathering of occupation forces with RBG shells and tandem shells, anti-armor and anti-fortification.
1:33 - Some of the zionist military equipment and gear were seized after our fighters attacked a zionist infantry unit.
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transmechanicus · 1 year
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Storm Bolters are one of the best weapons ever because too often gunsmiths will try to get the best of both worlds when it comes to balancing fire rate and accuracy. “Oh we need long barrels so when we’re spraying 1 billion diamantine tipped shells into our foes it will have +1% accuracy at range” fuck that noise. If i’m stomping around a space hulk in terminator armor i don’t need that shit. I want bare minimum barrel. Firing chamber then nothing but open air. Straight to DVD, express delivery of high explosives to where they’re needed most. If i’m getting rushed by a pack of genestealers, aiming is redundant, i need only hold the trigger and aim down the hallway. This thing can hit the broad side of a barn and Brother-Captain that’s all it fuckin needs to do when it turns said barn to splinters. Immaculately conceived weapon. Blueprints straight from the Machine God’s divine description. I’d dual wield em if i could.
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skylersprompts · 6 months
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DC x DP Prompt *8*
Vlad Masters is someone who the Bats find highly suspicious. So suspicious that Bruce never lets himself be alone with the man.
To many businesses got usurped by the man, as soon as he made a deal with the owners.
But Masters was quite the hermit, who seemed to never go out as long as he didn't see a benefit in it. He also just got custody of his godson and issued a statement, that he would stay out of the limelight for a while, to grief his two dear friends and their daughter.
And since it seemed like he wouldn't leave Amity Park in quite some time, they needed someone on the inside, since they just couldn't get through their firewall from the outside.
The godson - Daniel James Fenton - is 16 years old and still in highschool. Maybe the boy knows something or at least could make it easier for them to find a way in.
And because all of that Tim stands now in front of Casper High. Just because he was similar in age and would be in the same grade as Daniel.
He had just dropped out of school, just for Bruce to push this case onto him. If he didn't know it any better, he could think that his father wants him to change his mind about school...
He really hopes that he can get the Intel fast, he really has no time or desire to go to school.
Theoretically it was easy: befriend Daniel, ask him about Masters, have an outing at the home of Masters, so that he can gather information.
Really it should be simple.
But... he was already nine days in Amity and Daniel wouldn't talk to anyone.
And Tim could understand. From what he gathered his parents, sister and best friends all died in a big explosion just two month ago.
So he would have to bid his time and try to get Daniel out of his shell.
And so Tim started another school day in hope of getting closer to one Daniel Fenton.
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redjaybathood · 3 months
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Ukraine under fire - situation in the regions over the past day
📍Kherson region.
Over the past day, the enemy made 79 shelling attacks, hitting residential areas and a private enterprise in Kherson - 1 person was killed.
📍Donetsk region
Yesterday it became known about another resident of Avdiivka killed by Russians earlier. During the day, a school in Novoselivka Persha, 3 private houses and a high-rise building in Chasovoyarsk community and a house in Verkhnekamianske were damaged.
📍Kharkiv region.
More than 20 localities came under enemy artillery and mortar fire. Yesterday, as a result of hostile shelling of Kupyansk, 1 person was wounded and private houses were damaged. At midnight in Kindrashivka village, the Russian armed forces damaged a house.
📍Dnipropetrovs'k region
Closer to midnight, the enemy shelled Nikopol with heavy artillery. There were no casualties.
📍Zaporizhzhia
Yesterday, the occupiers struck 84 times in 22 towns and villages - there were reports of damage to a residential building and an infrastructure facility. There were no casualties.
📍Mykolaiv region.
Yesterday, the enemy launched a UAV to drop shrapnel ammunition on Dniprovske village. No damage or casualties.
📍Khmelnytskyi region
Last night 2 drones were neutralized over the region. No damage or casualties.
📍Chernihiv region
Russian troops shelled the border village of Bleshnya.
📍Sumy region
At night and in the morning, the Russians fired 3 times at the Esman and Krasnopil communities - 24 explosions were recorded.
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