#explosion protection training course

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[satsugacafe]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: hey, I just discovered your blog and love it! so cool to see bleach fanfic blog. can I please request headcanons for Kisuke, Kyoraku and Aizen, dating a strong female shinigami? (if it wouldn't be too much I'd love to know your particular of that relationship during the Quincy invasion)

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Kyoraku Shunsui, Urahara Kisuke, Aizen Sosuke

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: My first request! Thank you so much for sending one, and I hope this was done to your liking.

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: You display the newfound strength you’ve gained, during the 2nd Quincy invasion before your partners, leaving them impressed.

𝐌𝐚��𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Kyoraku Shunsui

Standing at the edge of the once pristine 1st Division, now the ruins of Wandenreich, Kyoraku watched you dance through the fleet of low-ranking Sternritters and drop them like leaves. You hadn’t even released your zanpakuto, instead, you used your spiritual pressure to deliver the deadly blows. Tilting his hat as he continued looking on with a hidden smile, he watched a higher-ranked Sternritter approaching from behind, thinking they could sneak up.

Little did they know that he trained you to fight over the years—the master of sneak attacks. Grinning as you dodged their blast and returned the favour with a kick to their stomach and a fist to their jaw, he gave a low whistle.

“Well, that one’s not going to make it out,” he chuckled.

However, the Sternritter was persistent and refused to stay down. Launching at you once more, this time you were already walking off the field with your back turned to your enemy, Kyoraku’s hands reached for the hilt of his zanpakuto. You weren’t showing signs of being aware and the enemy seemed to be coming onto you stronger. In a flash, he moved into the shadows, leaving Nanao behind and appeared on the field, not too far away from the Sternritter.

At the same time, Kyoraku moved out of the shadow to cover the ground and cut down your opponent, you spun around and unsheathed your zanpakuto, calling its release and slashed the Quincy in midair. Upon contact, what was once a small explosion when your sword collided with your opponent, became a violent torrent of flames and heat, engulfing a portion of the field.

“Well, it appeared that I was merely mistaken, sweetheart,” he muttered and adjusted his hat as he stepped back from the heat. “You had everything under control.”

“Of course I did. Who taught me to be calm when facing my enemy and take them by surprise?” you grinned as you sheathed your sword and walked over to stand in his shadow. There was a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, clearly stating that you enjoyed teasing him and showing off.

“That would be me,” he grinned and straightened his shoulders pridefully. “Say, your Shikai has gotten quite stronger than the last time. It’s equivalent to your Bankai. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“How else am I to protect you,” you laughed and tip-toed to kiss his cheek, earning the sound of his his throat being cleared. “My damsel in distress.”

“Now, now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sweetheart. I’m the Captain-Commander, and it’s my job to protect you,” he reminded with a playful tease, his voice low and rough. “However, I am proud that you’ve gotten stronger. You’re one of the reasons why the Gotei is still standing.”

Flattered by his words, you felt yourself becoming flustered and unable to hide the smile stretching across your face. “You and your sweet words, Shunsui. You might as well charm every opponent and turn this war around.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I could pull through.”

Laughing at his humour, your eyes softened. “Thank you for recognising my strength, means a lot to me.”

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Urahara Kisuke

“Bakudo 81: Danku. Hado 88: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!”

Whipping his head around at the sudden waves of intense reiatsu coming his way, lo and behold, the source of the voice and spiritual pressure came from you, his lover—one he hadn’t seen in some time. Behind him, the arrows that made their way towards him collided with the barrier, and the lower-ranking Sternritters vanished into dust once the blast made contact with them and a serene silence fell over the field. He didn’t need to check whether or not the Sternritters died, you were never one for doing things half-heartedly.

“Close your mouth, Kisuke,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes as you hopped off the giant boulder and strolled over him. There was a faint smirk on your lips as you observed his spellbound reaction to your new and improved abilities. It was over a year since you last saw him when you returned to Seireitei after your mission in the Human World ended.

Gathering himself as he shut his mouth and stared at your approaching figure, you were still the same from the last time he saw you, amazing and strong. Just much stronger than before. “80’s Kido back to back with no incantations? Impressive. I didn’t know you had that in you—”

Elbowing him in his ribs before he could finish his statement, you pursed your lips at him. “How else am I supposed to get stronger, Kisuke? I’m a Shinigami, you were a Captain. I can’t be looking weak when I stand beside you, now. Can I?”

“At least you chose to save me in such a dramatic fashion—a damsel in distress,” he teased, and returned Benihime to a cane, so he could lean against it. His other hand was propped on his hip as he continued to look at you in awe. “I appreciate it. Makes me realise that I have lots of catching up to do—you’ve gotten stronger than me.”

Rolling your eyes at his antics never changing and his persona still the same, your arms came up to wrap around his waist and return the hug. His warmth was suffocating, but the kind you missed in the year. “Oh please, if I used an 80’s Kido, you would get back up like it’s nothing. If I wanted to do damage, I might have to hit you instead.”

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered and pulled away to rub his rib where you elbowed him earlier, still feeling the lingering pain from a simple hit. You had indeed gotten stronger, and it made his heart swell with pride, it even glimmered behind his eyes as he stared at you in silence. Just looking at the way you stood confidently before him told him everything.

“Just know that I’m proud of you.” His words stumbled out his word before he could realise it, leaving you stunned.

Catching yourself for a moment, you blinked a few times and turned to walk away. “We’ll have enough time once this war is over to talk about how proud of me you are. Come on now, Kisuke. We have a war to win.”

“Yare, yare.” Grinning with a shake of his head, he happily trailed behind you, letting you lead the way with your newfound strength. “So long as you show off a little more for me.”

“Don’t push it, Kisuke.”

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Aizen Sosuke

Everyone was in a panic as the sudden horde of remnant spiritual pressure fell through the barrier from the Soul King’s Palace and started devouring Shinigami everywhere. You and your comrades weren’t too far from the slaughter, and from where you stood, you saw Captain Kuchiki and Lieutenant Abarai and Kuchiki in the distance, attempting to fight back. Rushing down to meet them with your fellow comrades at your side, you all encountered an even larger volume heading your way, causing them to retreat, leaving you to face it. Gathering what strength you had; you took a deep breath and raised your hand towards to amorphous mass.

“Seeping crest of turbidity. Arrogant vessel of lunacy. Boil forth and deny—”

In the distance, seated in a reinforced chair, bound yet exuding his usual unsettling aura, Aizen Sosuke watched you with a piercing intensity. His haze burned through the chaos, unflinching even as the mutated reiatsu creatures lunged towards him and were struck down by the protective forces surrounding his confinement.

“Grow numb and flicker. Disrupt sleep, crawling queen of iron. Eternally self-destructing doll of mud. Unite. Repulse. Fill with soil and know your own powerlessness. Hado 90: Kurohitsugi!"

The black coffin materialised. It wasn’t as perfect for a second attempt, but you managed to capture most of them before it collapsed, leaving behind faint remnants of them. The force behind the implosion sent you stumbling backwards, your butt colliding with the ground as your vision blurred. The drain was immediate and overwhelming, leaving you gasping for air as your reiatsu flickered weakly around you.

“Imperfect…but impressive nonetheless.”

Whipping your head around, nearly gaining whiplash, Aizen was sitting amongst the rumble, calm and collected with a proud smirk on his face. He looked every bit impressed at your performance as he held eye contact with you, saying everything he wanted to express. Even after two years of not seeing him, he exuded an effortless dominance that sent shivers down your spine.

“Sosuke?” you whispered in awe as you stared at his sealed figure.

“I see your time has not been wasted in my absence.” He continued, his gaze locked onto you as though nothing else existed on the battlefield. “Stronger than when I last saw you. Though I must admit…I didn’t expect to see you attempting a spell of that calibre. Were you hoping to impress me?”

You felt yourself growing flustered despite the exhaustion weighing down your body. “I wasn’t trying to impress you. I didn’t even know you were being brought out,” you laboured as you attempted to roll over on your knees.

“Indeed, though, I much rather sit here and observe you in your new element. It is…more interesting than helping your beloved Gotei 13.” He did always have a way with words when praising you. “However, you are in no condition to continue. Stand aside and let me handle this.”

“Sosuke—”

Unable to protest, you blinked in surprise as his reiatsu flared, powerful and suffocating despite the restraints. The remaining creatures that approached were vaporised upon contact, squealing as his reiatsu crushed them. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous he was, even bound.

Meeting his eyes with the same fire that burned intensely when you two were together, he smirked. A flicker of concern in his eyes diminished by pride as you looked at him in awe. “You’ve done well, Y/N. Leave your precious Seireitei to me.”  

©satsugacafé 2024: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[slowbison]

Could you write reader Fucking Miguel and leaving him full of cum and desperate while having a cage on getting so desperate and needy and then making him go to meetings and patrols

And could it be villain reader

a/n: your mind is yummyyyy, never thought of villain reader. well i kinda did, but ur's activated a deep part of my brain that was like yeahh this one. anyway, hope ya like :]

Bottom! Miguel O'Hara x Villain! Male Reader

words: 2.6k

warnings: humiliation, anal sex, butt plug, chastity device (cock cage), smut

“We really should go out on a date sometime, hm?” You said, rolling your hips with a particularly sharp thrust into the trembling man. The man was bent over a desk, claws gripping the desk and kept spewing out broken cries as you fucked him.

“Please let me cum, I-I can’t take it anymore.. please!” He begged, wailing as you continued to rock in him.

Your eyes darkened and grabbed the back of his head, rubbing his head into the desk. “I warned you Spidey not to be late or I’ll blow up everyone in that damned bank,” You leaned down, snarling in his ear and picked up the pace, fucking him harder into the desk.

Miguel arched his back and a silent cry escaped his mouth, clenching around your cock harder. He could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head as you continued your relentless pace, digging your hand into his head and hips. You groaned at the feeling of his tight ass, sucking you in deeper. “Haha, it’s a good thing that Nueva’s number one whore will do anything to protect them, right darling?”

Shame and arousal coursed within Miguel as you reminded the man how he got to this predicament.

It had been another night of patrolling Nueva York, he was alone this time around which meant his pace of dealing with criminals slowed. During one of his fights, he forgot the arrangement made between you and him on meeting at a specific location. He only realized after the fight, hearing a loud explosion in the distance that you were upset at his delayed arrival. Making his way as fast as he could, he found you standing at the top of a bank, detonator in hand. Spider-Man knew that only the left side of the bank that had no civilian’s was blown and he revealed himself, carefully walking closer to you and the tied up woman at his feet.

“Oh! Spider-Man, so good of you to finally join us,” You sneered at him, stepping over the hostage under your foot.

“V/n, let the girl go. It’s me that you want, not her.”

You huffed at the man and picked up the woman off the floor by her hair, shoving the detonator in her face. She cried harder and screamed every time the button was slightly pressed up against her cheek, desperately staring at the hero. “Unfortunately, I’m not interested in pets that refuse orders” You spoke plainly, moving your hand to the woman’s face, gripping it in your palm. “Maybe I should take this one and train it properly, hm? She’d make a fine slut don’t you think?” You purred, wiping the woman’s tears away with your thumb as she cried harder.

Miguel was about to take another step before you angrily jabbed the detonator in his direction.

“One more fucking step and everyone blows up right now, stay back.” You hissed, the woman began to tremble more and pleaded to be let go. “Look what you’ve done Spidey! The poor lamb is so scared”

“You can do anything you want with me, just let her go V/n.”

“Anything?” You mused.

“Heh, fine then. Catch,” You laughed, shoving the detonator in the woman's mouth and throwing her off the building. Miguel jumped to save her, wrapping his arms around her and landed on the floor. Taking the device out of her mouth, quickly disarming it before looking back up, only to find you had disappeared.

Gritting his teeth, Miguel went to chase after you, leaving the woman and the police force to handle the rest of the situation. He caught up to you, jumping from rooftops and hovering cars before slipping through an alleyway.

Still hot on your tail, Miguel clawed on the walls of the alley, but felt a strong tug on his foot that slammed him into an old abandoned office, a dark snicker coming from above him. Miguel felt his anger rising and began trading blows with you. Punching you square on the face while you kicked at his side, watching as he tumbled into a corner. He growled, claws protruding as he pounced at you once more, blocking his claws with your knife.

The fight continued for some time, both of men bleeding from cuts and bruised from the battle. You had the hero’s chest pinned against the desk and arms clasped in your grip, rutting against his ass, groaning at the feeling. Miguel returning your grinding with his own, stifled a low whine behind his clenched teeth hoping to stop any noises from escaping. You laughed at his attempt to stop himself from giving you the pleasure that he enjoyed your toying.

“Why hide that you’re enjoying this slut? If you give me your ass, I could do much more than just this, darling” You cooed, giving him a particular strong thrust, a small whine slipping past his lips.

“Or should I disable it for you?”

Miguel craned his neck to look at you and tensed, before the pixels covering his ass dissipated, revealing that he had nothing on underneath. You grinned, slithering your hand from his arms to grab a handful of his cheeks. “Not even wearing anything decent underneath, you really love to give easy access to anyone that promises to fuck you” You said, kneading the mound in your hands then slapping it, repeating the action a few more times. Each slap eliciting a small groan or moan that got progressively louder as you hit harder.

“Don’t mind if I do then, doll.”

Was all Miguel remembered as for the next few minutes you began your assault on him. Eating and pounding his ass into the hard desks while he tried, but failed to maintain some dignity as if he wasn’t just some shameless whore moaning and begging for one of the city's notorious villains. Leading to the current situation where he’s been begging to cum after you’ve denied his requests multiple times, citing that he should just be a good whore and take what he gets.

Your breath hitched as you mercilessly pounded into him, soon to reach your own pleasure. Miguel let out a wanton cry as his vision turned white, body trembling, trying to contain his desire to cum all over the desk. The sight of how the man squirms underneath you spurs you on, balls tighten as you fucked into him as roughly as you could.

Miguel begging slurred as he barely managed any coherent word. Leading to the quivering man’s orgasm wrenched from him with a drawled moan, spilling all over the desk with some dripping to the floor. Realizing that he failed to adhere to your command, he clenched around your shaft in hopes for your forgiveness.

You grit your teeth at the action and thrusted harder, slamming into the man continuously then stilled as your cum coated his walls. Letting out a deep groan as emptied inside, determined to fill him full. Miguel pitifully whined at the feeling, even more so when you left. You returned with a plug in your hand and eased it into him, hearing him softly groan at the intrusion.

Miguel began to catch his breath, loosening his grip on the desk now that he no longer needed to hold on for life at the force of your thrusts.

“Oh don’t relax just yet doll, we’re not done here” You grinned, flipping him on his back. Miguel didn’t put up a fight as you manhandled him, only getting curious when he felt cold metal encase his flaccid cock.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Miguel hissed at the cold feeling, lifting his body off the desk to get a better look.

“I’ve decided to extend our little session together Spidey, extending your punishment” You muttered, adjusting the chastity device around his cock, a pleased hum as it fit perfectly. The man grabbed your other hand that held the key and met his gaze.

“I have no use for a pet that doesn’t listen to orders, much less one that disobeys” You stated, grabbing the man’s face. His mask hid his expression, but you could feel his conviction from your words. Releasing your hand from his grasp and over his caged dick, aligning the key at the top with the lock. “So then, will you accept your punishment and wait for orders or do I have to use extreme measures?” You spoke lowly, bored eyes staring into the hero.

Miguel bit his lip in thought, “If I wear that, don’t terrorize the city for the week, promise that.”

“Trying to set demands with me? You really need to know your place” You tutted, giving him a sly smile before continuing, “Fine, since you’re the best free slut in this city.” You chuckled darkly and slipped the key into the lock, pocketing the key.

“Clean yourself up, your little spider friends should be arriving soon. Be good until then, pet.” You warned, escaping through a door, leaving the man to make himself presentable before he could be caught. Just as he was about finished, the wall busted open as the Scarlet Spider and Spider Woman arrived.

“That was a perfect dramatic entrance, now where’s the V/n.  I’ll trap him with my amazing biceps, maybe get some work in with my quads, while you back me up.” Ben rasped, flexing his arms and scanned around the room.

“He got away,” Miguel snapped, turning to leave, a slight limp noticeable as he walked.

“You alright there? Seems like he had you good if you're walking like that” Jess asked, watching as the man tensed and straightened his back. “You can ride with me if you want.”

“No thanks, I’m fine. Let’s just get back to HQ and finish up the meeting for today” Miguel said, jumping out of the wall. He groaned as he could feel the plug nested so deeply inside and grit his teeth to stop himself from moaning.

Ben huffed, upset that there wasn’t going to be any action and followed behind, Jess riding along besides him.

Once at headquarters, Miguel could barely think straight as he desperately tried not to think about how full he felt with your cum still warm. He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to let out a needy whine in front of everyone. Worse when he felt his dick twitching at the thought yet was confined in its cage. It served to remind him of how he was under your mercy and only you could decide to give him relief. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, helplessly trying to will his boner away while a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder.

“You alright Miguel? If it’s about V/n, we’re sure to catch him next time buddy.” Peter softly spoke, Mayday tilting her head at the anguished expression on his face. Not wanting to draw more attention to himself, he calmly stated to the father, “I’m fine Peter, I’ll handle it on my own.”

Peter wanted to say more, but Miguel stood and walked to the front of the office to give an overview of the current state of the multiverse. He had hoped it would distract him from any thoughts surrounding V/n and how he wanted nothing more than to track down the man, kneeling at his feet.

The sentiment continued as he returned back to the city on patrol, hoping to find the villain as he could feel his cock stirred in its cage. He wasn’t alone this time and was joined by the Spectacular Spider-Man much to his chagrin. They had heard a man’s terrified screams that led them to a group of thugs giving him a beat down.

Miguel and the young Peter Parker had assumed that it would be a relatively simple job as they were just average thugs. But as the fight continued with only two down and three more to go, they realized they were much tougher than anticipated. Still, nothing they can’t handle. Then they heard a deep, menacingly laugh coming from above, one that Miguel knew all too well.

“V/n!” Miguel and Peter yelled. Watching the man smile and bowed to greet his audience.

“Pleasure to be of service, though I’m only interested in one of you spiders yelling my name.” You purred, eyes locking onto Miguel’s, even if you couldn’t see his eyes.

“Boss! Don’t worry about these guys, I’ll take care of them” Peter said as he threw one of the henchmen into the wall. “You chase after him! I’ll take care of the guy who's hurt too.”

Miguel nodded and crawled up to the roof, chasing after the man once more. A mixture of anger that his heroic side wanted to capture you and put you in prison where you belong, but an overwhelming desire to continue where they left off.

He watched as you turned the corner and slipped into an opened window. Carefully coming up to the small entrance, he squeezed in and stood inside the apartment. There was rustling coming from a door down the hall and silently crept towards the noise. Peering into the door was V/n lighting a candle with a match and flicking the dead stick into a corner, a pleasant aroma filling the air.

“It’s good that it’s just you here, I’d hate for us to be rudely interrupted” You said, turning the lamp on the dresser on before sitting on the chair across from the bed. Miguel disabled his location and sent a quick message to young Peter not to worry about him. He was about to walk into the room when you shook your head, tutting your lips at him.

“Crawl,” You demanded.

Miguel was apprehensive about doing such a degrading act, but with his cock starting to beg for the man’s attention, the pain and arousal of being trapped in a cage swept over him. You pat your thigh as he slowly get's down on his hands and knees, crawling to you. He felt so humiliated even if there was no one around, making him clench around the plug.

Once he was nestled between your legs, you murmured a gentle “Good boy” and softly petted his head, as if he was your loving pet, a dog begging for attention. Clasping your hand at the back of his head, you shoved his face into your dick bulging in your pants. Miguel felt part of his anger reignite, wanting to curse you out in Spanish, but his body betrayed him and a low whine emerged from his throat.

Pixels dissipated from his mask, allowing only his mouth available and began to mouth at your cock, hoping to please you. It only fueled his embarrassment and shame as he kept letting out needy moans, acting like some cheap whore for a man who should be put behind bars.

You chuckled at his pathetic state and watched as the man who denied that he enjoys being treated as such, didn’t even realize he began to hump your leg. Moving his head away, you unbuckle your belt and pull your cock free from his restraints, something the man longed for as well.

“C’mon then” you paused, watching Miguel look up at you. Behind the mask covering his eyes, you could feel his lustful gaze through it and grinned, licking your lips.

“Get back to work, whore.”

You were going to have fun breaking him.

a/n: not all that sure if anyone would be exactly interested, but part of V/n was inspired by the Joker. but like fanfiction joker, if that makes sense which prolly doesn’t. the types where he’s like crazy but like doing just enough to keep the villain title going so Batman keeps going for him. well at least from the ones I’ve read, heheh.

up next: reader request! leon s kennedy x top male reader. leon and reader, top of the academy students and fierce rivals. must learn to work together to rescue ashley from the insane cult. god bless her soul if she's got to deal with those angry horny dogs.

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

— pt.2 : watch it all burn.

⟣・S2・HEAVY IS THE CROWN︰

THE SOUND OF screaming could be heard when you had awoken from being on the ground, your hair in a messy style as you couldn’t see your surroundings. was Jayce and viktor okay? was everyone alright? mel..? of course you wouldn’t know, everything in your body hurt, it felt like some sort of piece of metal lodged in your side.

Being a well trained solider had its many perks but you weren’t prepared for this. Of course you weren’t. like they say, the most unexpected things come.

For you though it felt a little far fetched whenever your mom would tell you the stories about the ghost and salem. Where the witch would be haunted down and hunted but towards the end they found her having did no wrong doing.

Sad tale it was. really.

Everything on your body hurt like hell, the only voice you could hear was Jayce’s. was he carrying you and viktor? probably.

That dude had some incredible strength.

JAYCE SITS IN a chair with his head in his hand, looking over at viktor who lays inside the hextech. seeing you and viktor in this condition was tearing him limb from limb, not in a gruesome way but a much more sadder way.

He had hated not being able to protect the both of you, it felt like hell. But you know, some things just come and go…you lay there on a bed with a bunch of iv’s attached to your arms and lower half, your hair was in a messy bun since Jayce had tried thing it himself.

Mel walks inside his office as she takes a look around, her eyes landing on Jayce. “How are they?” She questioned.

“Same as before. They’re both breathing.” Jayce answers in reply, a distressed look on his face. “Their pluses are consistent. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mines.”

Mel walks over to viktor, her eyes landing on the hextech as she starts reaching her hand out with curiosity. When she goes to touch it, it reacts differently with her making her gasp and step back.

“What’s it doing to him?” Mel questions.

“The hexcore has been evolving.” Jayce explains, “shifting through runic patters faster than I can keep up. All I know for certain is that it’s keeping him and her alive.”

Jayce eyes land on where you laid, his heart aching with devastation as he sees you reacting differently to the hextech aside from viktor, your body was rejecting it but also accepting it at the same time.

If it was the only thing keeping you alive he wasn’t gonna mess with it.

“It should be me up there instead of him. I should be laying in that bed instead of her,” Jayce grumbled, gesturing to an unconscious you on the bed barely breathing. “Vi and cait are gonna lose it.”

“Don’t say that.” Mel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “They’ll both come back to us.”

“I still don’t understand.” Jayce replies. “They were both right next to me. How does the explosion do that to them, and I just…? I just walk out without a scratch? [name] almost lost a hand, my god.”

Mel sighs. “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce.”

The male was quiet for a while before speaking again, “how’d it go with the council?” he asks.

Mel scoffs. “My mother’s entered the game. She’s already gotten her hooks into salo. Using his grief to make a play for hextech.”

“Mel, I promised viktor, never again.” Jayce tells the woman.

Mel places her hand over his. “It’s all right. I handled it. I won’t let them corrupt your dream.”

Jayce looks over at an unconscious you again, before laying his head on mel’s thighs, tears threaten to fall down his eyes but he holds them back.

He just wanted you and viktor back, that’s all.

You were very important to caitlyn and vi after all.

“I should get going now.” Mel says, “you might want to spend some alone time with them.”

With that, she stood up and patted his shoulder one last time before walking out the door. The door slams shut behind her by itself, making Jayce flinch a little.

He feels you stir, his head perks up immediately.

When it does, he saw you already staring at him, a confused look on your gaze.

“What was that about?” You questioned, sitting up with your back pressed against the pillows. It was a little hard to breathe but it was manageable with the breathing machine.

“I don’t even care-- i just-- you’re--?” Jayce launches forward and pulls you into a huge, a huge so tight you had gasped. He wasn’t hugging you too tight as though you couldn’t breathe— he just hugged you with desperation and worry.

“Woah! hey, hey, it’s okay.” You reassured, patting his back. “I’m okay.”

He was so happy to hear your voice.

“ONE OF THE MANY PRIVILEGES OF SERVING AS YOUR COUNCILOR IS HAVING THE OCCASION NOW AND AGAIN TO STAND BEHIND THIS PODIUM TO BEHOLD SO MANY JOINED TOGETHER NOT BY BIRTH OR DICTUM BUT BY ALL THAT WE SHARE.” MEL SPOKE as you stood by the other guards to keep watch, your back was leaned against the wall as the wound with the patch on your side was being healed. Your biceps flexing under the light as your toned abs still hurting from the explosion, but the wounds would heal, you were sure.

You glanced down at the tattoo on your hip and let your thumb graze over it, remembering when it was given.

You see one of the enforcers walk past you, you look them up and down by their attire before your brows furrowed— something felt wrong.

Heading into the crowd you lock gazes with vi, the both of you nodding towards one another before following the enforcer. But another person caught your attention as well, making you turn around and face the other way.

“The hell..?” You whisper lowly.

You push past the crowd of civilians as your hips sway when walking, and you walked with a purpose.

To figure out who the hell these people were.

Walking over to the other enforcers you climbed over the railing, your thighs still hurting but of course you forgot to bring your crutches for support. But it’s whatever.

“Wait, wait, ma’am you can’t--“

“Excuse me, I’m an enforcer too.” You say firmly as your eyes narrowed at the man. “So I can get pass, just like the rest of you.”

“We can’t even go in, so we can’t let you in either.”one of the enforcers replies. “Plus, you’re still injured from the attack so…”

Your piercing (e/c) eyes looked into the man’s brown ones, making his eyes widen a little— least to say, he was intimidated.

“Move, please,” you pleaded this time. “I feel like something is very wrong.”

Caitlyn looks over her shoulder and noticed the panicked look on your face— you would never randomly fuss about anything.

She knew something was wrong.

“Awful, isn’t it?”

Jayce looks over his shoulder when he hears a woman’s voice.

“Losing a loved one.”

When Jayce slowly turns around, the woman slips off her mask as she grabs her chainsaw, swining it at Jayce who barely dodged out of the way quickly.

Everyone starts screaming and shouting, rushing off to find somewhere safe.

“Get all the civilians to safety.” You told the enforcers before turning around to go and find Jayce, your leg still hurting from the explosion. you couldn’t walk around with a weak and injured leg but you thought against it.

“Jayce!” You shouted, searching for him. “Where are you? Jayce?!”

Someone suddenly slams you into a wall, making you hit the solid platform hard. A weak cry of pain escapes past your lips as you slid down the wall, clutching your arm.

Staggering to your knees, you rushed to get away from whatever was chasing you.

Get away, get away, get away

That was just going through your mind.

Something slashes in your back through your coat, “ah!” You shriek as you collapsed to your knees and hit the ground. Back arched as you tried crawling away from whatever had attacked you.

They grab onto your hair, arm wrapping around your neck once they finally got the chance to turn you around, the air in your lungs seemed to have collapsed the second they tighten their large hand around your throat.

You kick and flail your legs around as you gasped for air, eyes heavy and face turning blue as you choked— the breath you were now trying to breathe was very toxic seeping into your nostrils and throat.

You use your fists to hit at the man’s hands, he watched with a sadistic grin on his lips as the life in your eyes were starting to fade.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the life in your eyes seemed to have been fading.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Vi shouted as she rushed towards the much bigger man and knocked him in the face with her knee.

You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as you clutched at your own throat.

Vi rushed over to you with concern, cupping your cheek as she leaned over you. “Are you okay? does anything hurt?”

“Vi?” You croaked weakly, grasping at her wrist.

Vi presses your hand against her fast beating chest, concern wiping her features. “It’s me. It’s me. you’re okay.”

She helps you up, “I’ll be right back. go and try to find cait, okay?”

You nodded before rushing off to find caitlyn.

“Cait!” You called out.

You couldn’t even get as far before you hit the ground, passing out.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

[fatkish]

Aizawa and Class 1A x Student Alchemist Reader

In this, the reader has the same tattoos as scar. The reader’s left arm deconstructs molecules and their right arm reconstructs molecules.

The reader is quirkless so they use Alchemy to even the odds and are good at combat.

The reader took the entrance exam and has similar grade to Momo. Momo and the Reader share the 1/20 place amongst their peers

The reader aced the written test and destroyed the robots by using their alchemy to disassemble them. They got 45 villain points and 45 rescue points

When the teachers were looking over the students papers, Aizawa and Nedzu were amazed and skeptical of the reader being quirkless

Aizawa didn’t believe that you were quirkless so he used his quirk on you during his quirk apprehension test. Obviously it failed and he realized your were being honest on your paperwork. Still grilled you about it

Aizawa is ever so slightly more protective and stricter on you than other students. He worries all the time so he is a little harsher on you but you know that he just wants to push you a little more

You’re currently studying both flame and medical alchemy. You tend to study with recovery girl and help her out whenever you get the chance

During All Might’s hero vs villain training you were paired with Momo (Mineta didn’t get into the hero course) against Jirou and Kaminari. You won by creating a sleeping gas and put them to sleep whilst you and Momo wore gas masks she made

Bakugou refuses to admit your strength but has a secret respect for you since you beat him by altering his sweat’s molecules so it wasn’t explosive

Izuku has so many notes on you and has asked to draw your tattoos and you even began to teach him basic alchemy, although he sucks at it

When questioning you, you told Izuku that you were quirkless which he accidentally let it slip to his friends who then let the class know

After that you explained to the class that alchemy can be performed by anyone, it just take years of study and practice to perform and understand the basic rules and applications

Some didn’t believe you so you removed your shoe to show them all your second joint in your pinky toe as proof

Some still have a hard time believing it but most of the class accepted it

Kirishima, Sero, Iida, Jirou and Uraraka think you’re (manly) incredible and ambitious for dedicating yourself to something and making yourself strong despite the odds

Ashido, Kaminari and Hagakure still don’t believe that you’re quirkless

Tokoyami and Shoji both admire your strength and perseverance in trying to become a hero despite lacking a power and having been ridiculed and criticized for your dreams

Ojiro and you train in martial arts often as a means to strengthen one another

Tsuyu and you get along just fine as you both are some of the more mature students in classs

You tend to hang out with the quiet kids like Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda

You and Momo both bond over and help each other study the molecular make up of certain items

During the USJ attack, you used your flame alchemy on the Nomu. You used your conductive gloves to create the flames and tried to roast the Nomu

You took Hatsume’s place on Midoriya’s team in the Calvary battle

You fought Iida in the first rounds and won by creating a rugged and difficult terrain to run in as a means to slow him down, then you used your alchemy to seal his engines and managed to hit him in a pressure point that immobilized him

Todoroki was amazed when you were able to beat him in the sports festival. You turned his ice into water and then changed the arrangement of the stage’s molecular structure to that of quicksand and used the ground to swallow him up, winning your match.

Bakugou was pissed off when you altered your body’s carbon to be on the outside creating a skin of diamond like armor that his explosions couldn’t beat

You got 1st place in the festival but All Might accidentally let it slip during the award ceremony that you were quirkless

You got the third most offers from pros for internships out of the class

You ended up going with Best Jeanist and had a rather good time compared to Bakugou

After the Internships were over, you had mastered your flame alchemy and used it against All Might in your practical exam

Bonus: Todoroki learned that you can’t use flame alchemy when it’s raining or if your wet and accidentally started the ‘useless when wet’ shtick.

Now Bakugou makes fun of you whenever you get your gloves wet and acts like you need protection and enjoys babying you.

[diejager]

I love your Only Human fics 😭😭 I can’t help but think what Monster AU 141/Kortac would do if their only human got hurt during a mission….

A continuation maybe please?

Only Human pt3

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x reader

CW: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gun violence, flash grenade go boom boom, explosion, tell me off I missed any. wc: 2.4k

Only Human masterlist

previous

They fucked up, they really flicked up. It was a simple mission, simple enough that you were sent with only three operators. Alejandro with his witness, slinked between enemy lines, shooting up and creating chaos once he shifted, his large body ripping through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Gaz with his aerial insights, flew over trees and spotted the soldiers you were shooting through and giving pointers to where they split up and where they collected. And finally, Horangi, stalking between the buildings, jumping from shadow to shadow with a slow sway of his tail, pouncing on his prey with the stealth of a tiger. 

Laswell had promised that it was a quick in-and-out op, slipping through the village at night and taking out the leading figure of this hastily-made gang that was blocking the transport route between two important, allied towns. The shared intel was that it was a gang of ragtag rebels, raiding police stations within the mass, overwhelming the officers with their vast numbers of followers. They stole police equipment, vests, guns, batons, and ammunition, using them to power through the lines of officers and breaking through blockades built by the townsfolk. 

While they weren’t trained in military warfare or had prior training with specialised weapons, they had the advantage of numbers, overwhelming any joint forces with their vast numbers of rebels. It was nearly astounding how many people were being paid and supported by Russia's wealthy Ultranationalists wanting to disrupt the trading routes and hurt the opposing team by prying them of a source of gas and material. 

The few joint forces had slimmed down their numbers, leaving Task Force 141 to clean it up and take over their base of operation within the region. You were told that their numbers rounded a skeleton crew of twenty men, twenty-five at most. That’s why Price sent you four for quick and efficient disposal of the enemy. 

That’s what Laswell gave you, the information burned into your mind from habitual memorization to ensure that your team would be prepared, and yet the data was wrong. Gaz had reported twice the promised number, not as well armed as you were warned but their number brought a changing tide to your mission. You wanted to turn back, to regroup and form another plan, but everyone was already in place and calling them back could be as much of a risk of being caught as storming in. 

Perhaps that’s why you were all so careful and conscious of the dangers, moving in two, Alejandro and Horangi in one part and you walking under Gaz’s protective shadow. The initial plan was to box them in, working through both exits to snuff out any runaways and once you entered the compound, Gaz would drop down and lead ahead. 

That was the plan, until, of course, all hell broke loose. It was chaotic, they were trigger-happy and within untrained hands, their guns were as leather as a trained one with how quickly they spent their magazine, cycling through one and spraying the wall you used for hiding. Soap’s wild clean-up would’ve been extremely helpful in a time like this; Ghost’s hungry haze would’ve swallowed them all up, opening up a way for you to pass; and König’s reckless and unpredictable shift that sent him into a wild frenzy while he tore through the base. 

Unfortunately, they were back home, the little base they called their own when you first joined, yet you still had experienced and protective soldiers by your side, all special forces. Gaz led you with a strong hand and clear head, stopping at every corner to look at all sides before moving forward and you watched his back, looking out for any enemy rounding back. 

Your situation would be - at best - organised chaos, made from what you were given at the moment, faced with a group over a dozen times and without backup waiting behind. There were hushed orders and observations sent back and forth between your groups, cautious warnings on your side and growls from the other. Nick had been informed in case of any immediate evacuation and Laswell, of the sudden change in the plan. You did your best with what you had, leaving bleeding corpses in your wake, slumped over the bloodied floor and against the stained walls, but you hadn’t expected the rapid change of shift in the enemy. They weren’t such men with guns and knives, they were trained - albeit sloppy - in ferality and ruthlessness, jumping at you and Gaz without a second thought.

Every lunge was met with a bullet, rifles firing at the advancing numbers holding a gun, a knife or both, leaving you with a graze or scrape, the skin under your clothes bristled and bleeding. They flooded like moths to a flame, one taking the place of a fallen, and two other taking his place. You were pushed back to back, Gaz’s wings fluttering in stress between you, fighting the need to cover you in a protective shield of muscle and feather. 

“We’re compromised,” Gaz hissed into the mic, sending the message to any open coms on your connected line. “Victor-01, moving your way.”

“Copy,” Alejandro huffed.

Gaz tried leading you away, feet moving fast and steady around the halls you had to memorise for this Op. He tried to lead you safely, but they swarmed you like flies, appearing from every corner in an unending flood of shouting, thumping and firing. Gaz was bound to get hit at this rate, with his big wings and broader shoulders. It worried you that he’d take a bullet for you - you knew he would, as would the others - and get dangerously hurt. Through one door was a group waiting for you, gun trained forwards and ready to fire, but they were slow, sloppy, and they lacked the training and reflexes of a specialist. 

You had time to push Gaz through a door and into a room, you hid on both sides, hiding from the straight line of fire. You unclipped a flash from your belt, waving it at him to catch his attention. It did and his lips broke into a grin, wild and electric at your idea. You had him count down the seconds, his fingers lowering until he balled his fist, shaking it as you pulled the pin out and threw it down the hall. Veering away from the door, eyes closed tightly and hands around your ears, the flash grenade blew up with a loud, ear-piercing screech. It sent them into a blind panic, weapons falling from their hands to rub the burning pain in their cornea, ears deaf to your quick-moving steps towards them, down they went, like those behind you. 

Adrenaline pumped erratically through your veins, bubbling and warming your body to an uncomfortable heat that had you sweating under your gear. You turned another corner and you were closer to Alejandro and Horangi’s location, meeting up with them was your current objective, to regroup and take over the base in one group. They were just down the path, behind the sprinting men in jeans and t-shirts holding guns like it was a big, heavy toy. You could see their tense shoulders relax when they caught sight of you, guard still up and cautious, but glad that you were safe. 

“Hunter,” Horangi hissed, his figure trembling as his nose twitched under his mask. He stared at your shoulder, the damp jacket stained with your blood. “You broken?”

“No, the adrenaline’s keeping me going,” you nodded back, trying to soothe his worry. Being the 141’s medic, you knew the benefits of adrenaline, it numbed the pain, the cold and the burns, but once you calmed down, you’d feel every little scratch.

You limped out of the building, body leaning against Horangi for support, his tail curled around your thigh and body tense in a possessive mood. He kept glancing your way, his golden eyes swirling with worry, pupils small and attentive to every wince you made. He moved according to your pain, urging you to put more weight on him when you walked on your bad leg, where a bullet shot straight through your thigh, bleeding through the quickly put gauze you covered it with and wrapped tightly in bandages. You promised them that you’d properly patch yourself up in the helicopter while they watched before you worked on them. 

With your body riding off the adrenaline that kept you going for the past fifteen minutes, you jerked and winced when you walked on your left leg, the white bandage around your thigh staining red on the side. You were sure Horangi and Alejandro could smell your blood, or they'd been able to smell it before you even saw them, the irony tang wafting around them like a haze of their failure. The failure to let you get hurt and unable to properly protect you, you could feel the tenseness in their shoulders, their lowered head at your smile and the jerky movement when they moved around, seemingly pulling themselves back from doing something. 

Nikolai waved at your group, ushering you in from his seat, strapped safely with his headset on and communication clear between everyone. With a short affirm from Alejandro, Nik took off, the bird curving to the left when he turned west, towards the UK. You waited until the flight was stable, flying through the air softly and steadily before you opened up your pack, searching for items to clean and reward your wound until you returned to the infirmary. You checked your tourniquet, tightening it when you saw that it was slightly loose, ripping open the wrapping around your leg, you reapplied the gauze, adding pressure to it to stop it from bleeding even more. 

You winced and hissed under their watchful eyes, between Alejandro and Horangi, their tails swaying and occasionally curling around your forearm. Gaz, however much he’d like to sit beside you, to fuss and worry openly about your wounds, sat across from you, strapped in with his wings spread wide across the seats. 

“Looks rough, Охотник,” Nik called to the back, light glinting off his glasses. 

“Nothing new, Nik, you know that,” you replied through the coms, a lop-sided smile curling the corners of your lips.

He cackled, a full-belly laugh that had all of you smiling in your own ways. Nikolai was rambunctious, loyal and a big bear of a man. He was human, the other human in the Task Force apart from you (Laswell might’ve been the one sending you across the earth and gathering information, but she - regrettably - wasn’t truly a member.). 

“Да! I do!”

When you landed, the rest of the TF was already waiting outside, arms crossed and shoulders tense. It seemed they got the news of your Op, showing their displeasure with deep frowns and deeper glares, none directed at you or the hybrids, it was some sort of self-hatred and anger at the person that gave Laswell the intel, their promise of it being factual and not sending them any updates on the case. Laswell, herself, was fairly mad, her stressed face pulled sombrely down. 

Soap and Rudy rushed to you, voices low and tones raspy, they hovered near your group, fussing about the blood that caked Alejandro’s forehead, a slight graze from a rifle’s butt and other bruises from slamming into obstacles; Gaz’s slight pinch in the back from being slammed into a wall by a bulldozing enemy when he ran out of ammo; Horangi’s ripped sleeves, gashes bleeding lightly from attempts at slashing and stabbing knives by inexperienced hands; but what worried them the most was you, limping and hanging from Horangi’s shoulders. 

Your eyes were hooded, equal parts exhausted and blood lost, placing all of your weight on the Haetae hybrid. While your upper half was unscathed - apart from the slight bruises forming on your skin - your leg, wrapped tightly in a tourniquet and bandages drowned in red. The amount of red would’ve been worrying if they hadn’t known you, but you’ve survived far more dangerous and life-threatening wounds, bouncing back with revenge. As truthful as it was, it didn’t stop them from worrying. You might’ve been more resilient than most - hybrids credited their resilience to their human parent - you didn’t have the healing ability of hybrids or the immortality of spectres. 

“ ‘m fine, Rudy,” you smiled, so bright and reassuring when you were the wounded one. “Nothing a few stitches and rest won’t heal.”

“Si, but-”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not worried, love.”

Like his callsign, he walked in on your little group silently, peering over Rudolfo’s shoulders, his warm, brown hues meeting yours. His voice was strained with concern, croakier than when you left this morning, waving at them. Rodolfo moved over when Ghost brought his hand forward, Horangi passed you to him with careful and tender hands so that you could be brought to the infirmary without having to walk. You hooked your arms around Ghost’s neck, arms crossed lazily over his back and chin propped up on his shoulder. He held you against his chest, one arm under your ass and another carefully tucked under your knees, watching your wounded leg without touching it. 

You looked at Price and Laswell from your perch, their hushed discussion with shrugging shoulders and crossed arms, but neither looked pleased with the outcome of your mission. You blinked owlishly when you couldn’t find König beside them, head turning from side to side to find the 6 '10 Austrian hybrid, but you still couldn’t find him. Just as you were going to ask Ghost where König was, a hand reached out to grip your forearm, thick fingers softly rubbing your strained muscle. You were met with a veiled face when you turned, brilliant, red eyes stared at your wounded thigh in distaste, his mind throwing him into the scene of the moment, turning and ripping the men that dared harm you to pieces, bloodied and unrecognisable parts of a human. 

“Hey, König,” you called out, pulling him back from his violent daydream where his eyes turned crimson, glazed with bloodlust and rage, promising doom. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Ja,” he replied moments later, snapping to your face with blank eyes, now his regular, ice-blue colour. “To the infirmary first and mess all later. You need to eat and rest well to heal quickly, Schnucki.”

“What about the-”

“You need to rest, lovie. Let them deal with the debrief,” Ghost’s voice was stern and commanding, ending whatever protests you had. 

As if to prove his point, he turned to face Price, his head nudging you to look at your captain, the imposing and dominating figure of Price’s horned head, thick, swaying tail and powerful wing. Price replied with a quick nod, curt in a way that shut down any voice, landing the hammer on the gravel with a resounding boom. You sighed, grumbling lowly about them worrying too much about a flesh wound, exaggerating your condition (in your mind) and threatening them with insubordination that had your commanding officers glare your way.

next

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 04:01 ⏤ALWAYS SAFE

SUM. : you bring james his lunch that you cooked yourself and almost get injured

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james ; girlfriend reader ; very angry james ; protective james ; team training ; drill accidents ; reader being caring and sweet ; reader is wifey material ; james is husband material

LENGTH : 0.8k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“James!” you shout across the rink, standing by one of your boyfriend’s coaches, Richard, who’s become like an uncle to you. The hockey captain doesn’t stop, however, unable to hear past the whistling wind by his ears atop his thick and sturdy headgear.

“Gonna have to shout louder than that, little lady ,” the older man chuckles, adjusting the cap on his head of silvering hair. 

You ponder to yourself for a moment before smirking, which makes Richard arch a curious brow at you, “Darling!” The instant you call across the ice rink, you see James’ head whip towards you before he grins widely behind the front guard of his head gear. Behind him, the rest of his team come to a skidding halt and also look over to your waving and cheering figure. You’ve become quite familiar with all of his teammates and they love to tease their captain for being so head over heels for you so the team begin snickering to themselves, some even cheekily whistling and nudging at James who pays them no mind, his sole focus fixed onto you.

“Baby!” he cheers, delight and excitement evident in his voice before he speeds his way over to you. Richard whistles for the rest of the team to run short drills while the ‘lovely couple’ have their lunch. 

“I’m sorry for being late,” you gnaw at your bottom lip regretfully, a guilty look taking over your expression as James hurriedly takes off his headgear and gloves, revealing his sweat-soaked locks matted down and clinging onto his forehead, “Richard told me you didn’t eat anything-” because you wanted to wait for me…

“Don’t worry about it,” James says gently, his smile just as bright but much softer as he takes in your sweet expression. There’s so much love in his gaze, you feel your own heart bursting at the seams to attempt at reciprocating his adoration. James brings a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his kind stare; even though he appears sweaty, dishevelled and rugged from training, he’s just as handsome as ever, “you sounded really excited over the phone about cooking my lunch for me,” a heat crawls up your neck and explodes across your cheeks as James grins, his eyes staring lovingly at you, “and I was just as excited to eat what you so graciously cooked instead of the canteen food here,” James giggles to himself, dopey and carefree, “you cooked it just for me~ I’m so lucky~” 

You returned his wide grin and felt yourself losing your will to hide his surprise. He didn’t know it but you were only late because you went and bought his favourite treacle tart from his favourite bakery across town.  

“Actually~” you begin to reach down so that you can present the bakery take out box when you suddenly see James pull back, his spine fully erect as his eyes and ears become fully alert. The words were on your tongue, ready to question his odd behaviour when he suddenly shoots his arm up to the side; just as you were beginning to register a faint whistle in your ear, it was followed by a resounding WHHHIIIIP!

In James’s stretched out hand was a hockey puck. And it was on a one way course of high velocity towards you. Seeing this, anger flares up like the fuse of an explosive ready to violently detonate in James’s eyes.

“SHE’S! MY! FUCKING! GIRLFRIEND! WATCH IT! YOU FAT FUCK!” James’s booming voice cuts through the air and silences all activity on the rink, not only that but he was easily able to narrow down the perpetrator of the hazardous stray puck, “...WELL?!! SAY SOMETHING YOU DICK!” you look past James’s figure and lock eyes with guilty brown pools, likely the offender of your potential accident.

“S-sorry,” you hear his teammate stutter, which you accept with a small nod and place a gentle hand on James’s arm, attempting to calm him down and bring his attention back to you. As he slowly turns to you again, James slams the puck to the ground and kicks it away with his ice skate. 

“Are you okay, angel?” James asks, his voice soft and kind, a complete contrast to the booming, angry shout he just projected. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” your warm voice visibly soothes the hockey team captain and he rests his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief, “...accidents happen James, please don’t lash out on the poor g-”

“Accident or not, hurting you— almost hurting you is deserving of a beat down from hell,”

Looking into his hostile but worried hazel eyes, you silently express your objection alongside some appreciation too. You’re thankful for his worry, his aggression over your safety even makes your heart flutter but he’s better than any violence. It takes a moment but James finally sighs and nods, a silent promise to watch himself and stay civil. 

Smiling softly, you lean up to kiss his lips, “thank you for saving me,” his lips smile against yours. 

“You’re always safe with me, princess,”

NAVI.

A/N : im a bit rusty on writing since i haven’t been able to write for a while from stressful home stuff but here’s me trying to get back into it with another ice hockey james au (inspired by another tiktok). hopefully, this will get me in the headspace to write good requests from my milestone event.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

[mini-minish]

nathaniel wesninski & andrew doe au i picked up from a 2021 sketch 🪓🖤🔪

notes under the read more!

• andrew doe gets adopted into the wesninski family when he's just a little older than nathaniel, who hasnt been sent to edgar allen tryouts yet, and andrew doe is trained to be his bodyguard since childhood

• mary doesn't like it, he becomes a weakness for her son and when she leaves she refuses to take andrew with them, so nathaniel stays, and in that mary never really gets to leave

• on the same day she fails at running away and nathan finds them, nathaniel loses his eye lolastyle

• one time when he's a little older, andrew receives a letter, from a boy who claims to be his twin. andrew minyard doe throws it to the fire, and nathaniel picks it up while he's turned, before it burns completelly

• from the day nathaniel gets injured because he refused to leave andrew behind, they go from annoyed acquaintances to inseparable friends

• he calls andrew "drew" and andrew pretends to hate it. later when theyre older the name "nathaniel" starts to weight, starts to sound weird, so he asks andrew to call him something else, and andrew calls him alex, stefan, adam, until they get to neil

• but he only calls him neil when theyre alone, when its a secret, when nathan cant hear them

• "nathaniel" takes up the axe. he's as good a hitman as the little devil of baltimore has to be. he hates it, hates the color red, the color of his hair

• one of andrew's first memories at the house is of nathan cutting a man to pieces and making him watch, making him learn not to flinch, but red is the color of neil's hair, soft, safe, soothing

• before that, though, theres little league. theres learning andrew is talented at exy, theres kevin day, and riko moriyama, and theres jean moreau

• i want jean and andrew to be funny about each other just for some levity here ok

• the reynolds are a renowed fashion brand, far from them to refuse big mafia money, so they work on suits, on silk shirts, on tailored pants, and allison reynolds is always joined by her friend renee when she goes with her parents for fittings

• renee walker meets andrew doe, and andrew thinks shes silly enough to keep in touch.

• kevin day leaves them, and neil realises he doesnt have to be kept either. kevin day gets to get out and nathaniel wesninski gets quieter.

• neil finds his uncle's contact among some of the things his mother left behind. from stuart he gets to ichirou. from ichirou he starts to make a plan

• riko moriyama is going to make a big announcement soon, something about the perfect court, something that will finally brand the rest of them as his, and well, andrew has always told neil how much he hates that the pen's ink makes the skin of his face break out

• and neil still has the address of a boy who claims to be his andrew's twin

• for whatever reason the moriyamas and the wesninskis have one of those rich people dinners planned. neil gets kevin to show up, nathaniel gets andrew to leave, kicking and punching and a promise broken

• later in the night, a little after the first course is served and they begin the socializations, neil gets kevin to leave, leave, run as far as possible, *now*.

• he sees jean, grabs his wrist, and takes him outside. theyre walking fast before neil starts running, and then the explosion comes from inside the house, from the basement, and knocks both of them out before they turn the corner. the hathford's men long gone from the scene.

• all renee walker and andrew doe see from where he's been waiting for the little voice at the back of his mind to make sense, is the house bursting on fire, believing that it does so with what he's supposed to protect still inside

• but since i can't bring myself to do this to them, andrew finds him, finds jean, and at the hospital finds stuart, who takes his nephew in

• he gets contacted by a man called david wymack, who was convinced by kevin day to offer them a place among his foxes :)

[love-marimo]

Hiii Lili <3 could I request one piece character (idk for who you write, so u can choose!) reaction to a reader who is very normal looking girl (doesn't stand out from the crowd to say soo) but in battle/confrontational situation becomes a complete, very violent and dangerous, destruction machine?

The circumstances or if she is friend or foe, you can choose, whatever let's you more inspired. ✨ If you don't like or feel very inspired by the prompt it's okay, I just really liked your writing style ♥️

There is More Than What Meets the Eye (Monster Trio x Fem!Reader)

ー hello!! thanks for the ask. this is actually such a fun idea. i went a little overboard with this one lololololol. and i decided to go with the monster trio ♡ hope u like it :3 if you/anyone wants to read sth about other characters,pls lmk! i currently write for jjk, genshin and of course, one piece ★

ー as always, requests and commissions are open! ♡ (im bored pls give me something to do :'3)

cw: mentions of weapons, violence, and battles

Luffy

he's not someone who likes to expect things from anything, let alone anyone.

but he gets really amused easily.

(luffy is a big yolo person, and it shows)

he is naturally protective of his crew though, and that includes you.

but at the same time, he trusts that everyone is capable of fighting and surviving on their own, so he doesn't think much of your capabilities. he just knows that you're strong.

you had just recently joined the crew and you're figuring out how you can help.

you help with franky and usopp with the ship's repairs.

then you tend to the plants with robin.

then you help sanji cook lots of meals (because luffy eats like a monster)

and then you asked nami if you can clean the study room for her so she can make maps comfortably.

and after all that, you joined zoro to workout with him.

for a normal person, doing all these things would exhaust one at the end of the day, but in your case, you seem to never run out of energy.

the crew is thankful for your help, but what they didn't realize is that you never run out of stamina to just do things.

until luffy points out how restless you are.

"hey, don't you ever get tired?"

you were about to answer him when you noticed the presence of a few marine ships at your tail.

the crew panicked and prepared to change course.

when they fired cannonballs, you immediately caught each and every one of them and threw them back at the ships, causing a simultaneous explosion.

there was one cannonball that you almost missed, so you were quick to grab it.

imagine luffy's surprise when you crushed it with your bare hand before it exploded.

everyone pretty much had their jaws on the floor.

luffy practically had sparkling eyes asking you how you did it.

"wow, i never knew you could do that!"

"what other things can you break with one hand?"

"here, can you break this huge weight?"

you were confused, but you obliged, breaking the weight in half.

"so cool!!"

since then he would start attacking you out of nowhere, trying to catch you off guard.

well that never happened, so one day he'll mope about it.

"hey, seriously, what's your secret?" he asks, poking your cheek.

"there is no secret." you laugh. "i just like to train my body."

"well, that's boring." he complains.

after a while though, he smiles at you.

"i honestly thought you look weak. but you're strong, so keep it up!" he said, pointing his thumbs up.

you didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended, but you took it as a compliment.

it feels good to feel needed by your friends.

Sanji

sanji thinks you're the most vulnerable person in the crew.

he doesn't mean to be condescending or anything.

but you just seem so… bland.

and it's not that he thinks you're so weak to the point that you can't defend yourself. part of him just assumes that you're average when it comes to strength and the other wants to protect you because you're a girl and you're pretty.

one day though, you're docked at an island to stock up on supplies and you forgot to tell the crew that you're going shopping by yourself.

sanji panics. what if something bad will happen to you?

something did happen to you.

you almost got robbed.

and sanji saw you manhandle the robber in a flash, and the next thing he knew, you were pointing a dagger to the robber's eyes.

it was so close and he can feel you wanting to gouge them out.

sanji hid himself for a moment, observing how you fight against the enemies.

you were practically raging, beating them up even if though they're already helpless.

one would try to beg for your mercy but you're pissed off. so you punched them hard in the face, knocking them unconscious.

sanji quietly had a nosebleed.

you were just so?? hot??

i mean you already are beautiful in his eyes but something about you being this strong turns him on surprised the shit out of him.

after you're done, you turned towards sanji, going back to your normal self.

"sanji! i didn't notice you were there."

"oh, i love it when you're violent and sadistic y/n-swann!"

he'll practically throw himself at you, showering you with compliments and following you around like a dog.

"forgive me for saying this, but i didn't realize you were that strong." he'll say.

"well, now you know!" you smiled at him.

instantly had heart eyes

"you are my beloved strong woman! woof!"

ever since then, he'll be even more batshit crazy about you.

every time you display your strength in front of him and the crew, it will take every bit of his will power not to pass out.

Zoro

this man…

he doesn't look like it, but he's very good at reading people

he got it after years of travelling on his own as a pirate bounty hunter

he may not have a good sense of direction, but what he's good at is sensing the strength of his opponents.

given that he's in a fight with one.

it's something he honed over time, so that he can create his own strategies when in battle.

like luffy, he knows that you're strong, and you work well in a team or on your own.

what he doesn't know (or at least he isn't aware of) is the lengths your strength can reach.

he has a gut feeling that you never went all out in your time as a member of the strawhat crew. (he's right)

so his competitive ass decides to test you through a spar.

you get fired up by the idea, since you've been wanting to train with zoro for a while now.

"ready? i won't go easy."

what a cocky bastard tbh.

you're very focused on him.

you're literally the definition of "lock on" every time you fight.

after you took weapon of your choice, you began to spar.

since you're on the deck of the sunny, you were both careful not to use complicated techniques to avoid destroying the ship. but you both still gave your all, unwilling to show any blind spots to one another.

chopper admired both of you on the sidelines, and the clashing of your weapons were heard by everyone on the ship.

"hey, moss head! what do you think you're doing-" sanji tries to interrupt.

then you landed a blow to make zoro lose his grip on his swords.

you ended up on top of him, and you pointed the back of your weapon on his chest.

he expected this so he wasn't surprised.

he found it amusing even.

"knew you were hiding something." he chuckled, uncharacteristically admitting defeat.

"but i'm not! i guess i got a little ahead of myself. sorry." you say, looking away from him, a little flustered.

"what are you sorry for? your strength? you know that's a pretty useless thing to apologize for." he replied.

since that day, he respected you more, and you would train together.

heck, when you're on an island, you'll find spacious and uninhabited places where you can spar with him to go all out.

it almost always ends in a draw.

zoro would go easy on you on the ship because you both know that it's not ideal to fully use your powers.

so the times where you can both give your all, you both make the most of it.

he teaches you how to use swords, and if you already know how, he'll teach you some of his techniques.

much to your happiness.

"you're pretty good, honestly. you can easily catch your enemies off guard with how you look." he admits to you one time.

"that's kind of offensive. but i'll take it!" you laugh.

ー Lolita

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugou Katsuki: Killer Skills

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 1.2k, angst, fluff

• Being an ex-assassin provides skill, but when your secret is shared it makes things complicated with an explosive pro.

Warnings: Mature language, pro-hero age, mentions of killing.

>>>>——————————>

Never had you expected to be the catalyst of one night drastically changing form, yet neither had you expected your life to be thrust into the light by explosives either.

Calmly you stood, arms folded and expectant brow raised at said explosive.

"Look I'm not asking for help shadow shit, just a sous chef. I'm getting the extras together and need a hand since they're all still fucking useless in the kitchen."

"Alright, what are we making Katsuki?" Still addressing him so informally left him diverting his gaze but he gave a detailed list of his menu with vicious confidence.

—

It wasn't until hours later when surrounded by former classmates of UA did you feel minor pressure, even though you were trained to fit into any situation, this was still unnerving despite Bakugou giving a shoddy introduction. So many heroes, so many former enemies...

Did they didn't even know who you were?

What you were?

"Wow Bakugou, you finally found someone who's as good with a knife as you are!" The commentary of a bright brunette ripped you from your depths, the woman bubbly and impressed by the sight of the two of you dicing vegetables.

"Still think it's weird round face?"

"Yeah, how'd you get so skilled (L/n)?" Your blade paused mid strike upon hearing her question, low and regretful reply breathed into the world.

"Having skill with knife is pivotal to an assassin, luckily such a talent can be applied to various situations."

Aside from to Katsuki, you think it's the first truth you've told.

The room fell silent, Uraraka stepping back ever so slightly nearer the comfort of Izuku and beside you there was a prevalently harsh whisper from Bakugou.

"Shit."

That's when you realised you'd screwed up, of course they didn't know, Dynamight probably hadn't a chance to tell them nor the priority to either.

"Assassin? (L/n)-san you...?" The gravity quirk user stuttered out, the heroes in the room suddenly more defensive and dawned upon you one by one.

"Not anymore but my hands aren't clean and they never will be. However I'm trying to be better, now that I'm free. I swear upon my life."

"You are The Shadow, right? I suspected as such after their mysterious prolonged absence." Izuku decided, just as Katsuki predicted he would, but never had you been disappointed by sheer terror and anger tainting once gleaming faces before. Until now.

"I was. Then like you said, I disappeared. I made my first choice in a long time and chose to kill myself so I wouldn't be forced to do anything else I didn't want to." With your harrowing explanation and final assassination poetically being that of your previous alias, the room fell tensely silent once more upon the digestion of such a tale.

"You're responsible for so many d—" They were cut off before they could finish (but you knew where it was going) by the deafening sound of a knife stabbing into your chopping board with knuckles white on its handle. You felt the dangerous presence towering behind you, enough to make anyone think twice about a comment so brash.

"Bakubro why aren't you saying anything?! You should be blowing up right now unless—" A flash of realisation as Kirishima settled upon his friends' protective frame. "—you knew."

"'Course I knew, you think I'm an idiot?!" The blonde aggressively barked back, you felt his riding temperature against your back as he leaned forward slightly.

"No but this is insane! Since when were you one for villain redemption?"

"Like you fuckers can talk about redemption, we've seen plenty of assholes do bad things and sometimes it ain't their choice. You still saved them didn't you?" A knowing look was directed at Deku, who already seemed to emphasise.

"Kacchans' right, we can't assume a situation based on actions. Only that if a lighter path is what (L/n)-san has chosen, then we should support it until given reason otherwise." Miraculously the words of this admired man seemed to resonate with them, yet Katsuki remained somewhat defensive and hadn't revoked himself entirely from your space quite yet.

"Besides, if (Y/n) wanted to kill any of you, you'd be dead already. Take that as a trusting start." He made a point of eating your food, almost as if making an example of his guests' unanimous wariness once stepping back to his station.

"Katsuki! Don't say that, it doesn't help my case."

"What?! It's not a fucking lie, you even gave me a hard time." He bit back defensively, glaring daggers that all most matched the sharpness of yours.

"Someone who made Bakugou sweat? I'd like to take a crack at sparring you sometime if you wouldn't mind." Kirishima seemed revitalised with newfound admiration that was mildly unnerving, maybe this new hero generation hadn't forgiven your crimes but they were willing to get to know you at the very least.

"Uh— I mean I'm trying to be better, if helping you improve accomplishes that then I'll participate." You bowed, Katsuki only snorting and providing a venue proposal.

"Could use my training room? It's been a while since I've seen shitty hair and Pikachu get their asses kicked."

———

So after turning the night upside down, Red Riot and Chargebolt became your opponents in an orchestrated game.

"Alright I have two powders, if you get marked you are dead as per my previous occupation. If you can hit me, you both win." Came your brief explanation, holding up a pair of red fingertips on your left hand which everyone agree and understood.

With that, the onlookers could only watch as you manoeuvred varying attacks, sidestepping, jumping, and swishing past jolts of electric whilst simultaneously avoiding the hardened combat from Eijirou.

Suddenly, after about 3 minutes, you came to a solid stop which allowed Kaminari to barrel into you rather unceremoniously a second later who dizzily voiced his victory.

"I got them!" A panting breath. "I win!"

A chorus of applause and laughter echoed in the room with comments spewing from observations.

"Kiri check your back man!"

"Denki... you've got a little something..." Jirou vaguely gestured to her forehead and lo and behold when mirroring her actions, his fingers came back dusted with scarlet powder.

"Also I should say that the second powder was UV sensitive, so if Katsuki kindly adjusts the lighting?"

Immediately there was gasps of astonishment, both bodies were decorated with reflective vibrant marks that almost made you feel sick of your own competence.

"Woah?! You coulda killed use twenty times over and we didn't even manage to zap you!"

"Told ya morons." Katsuki joined your side, a nudge to your arm to knock you from your worrying thoughts and a diverting suggestion to get you away from the situation. "Let's eat, we didn't go through all that shit to waste the food you damn extras!"

"Sweet, then you can tell us the story of how you both met over dinner!" Despite being beaten, Kaminari had newfound interest in your past life as did the rest of the heroes - you couldn't blame them, you were infamous for a reason.

The domino sound of agreement left you snapping to the host in mild panic upon the possibility of having to relinquish such a turbulent memory. You hadn’t even told him he’s the reason you quit killing and he hadn’t dared bring up that kiss you shared in case it meant nothing to you. A seemingly mutual whisper escaped both of your lips.

"Shit."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[darkmaga-returns]

Schoolchildren in Poland are preparing for potential invasion with mandates for firearm lessons. Minister of Education and Science Przemyslaw Czarnek signed off on the new requirement and is considering expanding studies to include preparation for rescue operations and cyber attacks.

Children in primary schools will learn weapons safety and theoretical principles. Secondary school children, girls and boys, will learn how to properly shoot a firearm. Lessons may begin by using ball guns, air guns, or virtual laser shooting ranges before introducing live ammunition.

Poland had similar courses in place for previous generations, and given the nation’s history, it is understandable why they’d want to arm all civilians from a young age. Other Baltic states like Lithuania are considering implementing similar measures while places like Latvia already have this curriculum in place. Defensive training or przysposobienie obronne became less commonplace after the USSR was dissolved. Former generations were trained on the proper use of gas masks and the threats of the day.

Let us not forget that citizens were extremely restricted from owning firearms in Poland prior to the last invasion. The 1932 Act on Guns, Munitions and Explosive Materials made it extremely difficult for citizens to obtain a license, which they would need to acquire through a starosta or country governor. The public was nowhere near prepared for the Nazi invasion, but on September 12, 1939, the Germany army issued a ordinance requiring all Poles to surrender all firearms within 24 hours. Failure to comply resulted in execution without trial.

One would think that the government would permit the people to protect themselves after the Nazi occupation. Instead, Minister of Public Security Stanisław Radkiewicz invalidated all gun licenses on July 15, 1945. Strict regulations remained in place until 1961 when the government eagerly created a Citizens’ Militia and became a bit more lenient with permits. Still, regulations remain in place and Poland has a low rate of civilian gun ownership. There are only 2.5 firearms per 100 people in Poland, and less than 0.8% have a valid firearm permit. Harsh regulations on firearms result in a weakened populace who is unable to protect themselves against governments, whether foreign or their own.

[vampireapple]

Just Some Guy

Humans have a bizarre take on what is truly specular human behavior, and what is just a human having fun.

.  .  .

If you ask a human, any human, about the incredible physical feats achieved by this race you will notice a common trend. They will respond with stories about trained professionals. Such as the doctor who removed his own internal organ.

Or a group of the first space explorers whose ship had basically shut down but still made it back to earth.

Or the crafty officer who brought down one of the most violent and corrupt criminals.

Or the countless soldiers who jump on explosives to save their comrades and don’t die.

They will nod solemnly and talk about these trained professional’s bravery, and how this is what the race aspires to be. Smart, caring, brave, and unflinching in the face of extreme, or even deadly, odds.

But if dig a little deeper you’ll find other fascinating stories, such as mothers and fathers who risk their lives, or even die, for their children.

“Those are their kids? What are they supposed to do, let them get hurt or killed? All decent people will help protect a kid, and that’s just quantified when its your kid.”

Or older siblings who save the lives of their younger siblings:

“Hey, being the eldest is serious business! Of course you gotta protect the younger ones!”

Seemingly frail elder humans who won’t let themselves to be a victim.

“Ya know, its not that common, but its also not that unheard of. Made respect to them. Makes you wonder what they did when they were younger.”

Or strangers who will defend others.

“Well, those punks were being a bully. Of course she’s going to do something. She looked hella cool doing it too.” There are stories of humans fighting animals to saved beloved pets or people.

“You don’t mess with a man’s dog. And again, its kinda biologically ingrained in us to help kids.”

Aside from bravery, there are tales of humans surviving incredible misfortunes- getting struck by lighting or falling from great heights, to having to amputate parts of their own limbs to being nearly cut in half to having their head impaled.

“Okay, those are all very extreme examples, and things like this don’t happen often.”

Then there are the humans who seem to not be human at all. They perform all sorts of physically demanding, very carefully practiced, and very impractical stunts.

“Oh, yeah,” humans will say. “That’s just their special interest. They’ve practiced for hours to do that. Super cool. But its just some guy living his best life.”

Humans will not understand, no matter how you present it, how utterly unlike any other species they are.  A human doing an unusual feat is ‘just some guy’ and not a human that has honed a very specific skill.

Humans are very odd. Do not underestimate them.

.

.

.

Hello all! Its been a hot minute, but I’m back. Hope you enjoy this slightly different style of writing!

[reasonsforhope]

got anything good, boss?

Sure do!

-

"Weeks after The New York Times updated its terms of service (TOS) to prohibit AI companies from scraping its articles and images to train AI models, it appears that the Times may be preparing to sue OpenAI. The result, experts speculate, could be devastating to OpenAI, including the destruction of ChatGPT's dataset and fines up to $150,000 per infringing piece of content.

NPR spoke to two people "with direct knowledge" who confirmed that the Times' lawyers were mulling whether a lawsuit might be necessary "to protect the intellectual property rights" of the Times' reporting.

Neither OpenAI nor the Times immediately responded to Ars' request to comment.

If the Times were to follow through and sue ChatGPT-maker OpenAI, NPR suggested that the lawsuit could become "the most high-profile" legal battle yet over copyright protection since ChatGPT's explosively popular launch. This speculation comes a month after Sarah Silverman joined other popular authors suing OpenAI over similar concerns, seeking to protect the copyright of their books.

Of course, ChatGPT isn't the only generative AI tool drawing legal challenges over copyright claims. In April, experts told Ars that image-generator Stable Diffusion could be a "legal earthquake" due to copyright concerns.

But OpenAI seems to be a prime target for early lawsuits, and NPR reported that OpenAI risks a federal judge ordering ChatGPT's entire data set to be completely rebuilt—if the Times successfully proves the company copied its content illegally and the court restricts OpenAI training models to only include explicitly authorized data. OpenAI could face huge fines for each piece of infringing content, dealing OpenAI a massive financial blow just months after The Washington Post reported that ChatGPT has begun shedding users, "shaking faith in AI revolution." Beyond that, a legal victory could trigger an avalanche of similar claims from other rights holders.

Unlike authors who appear most concerned about retaining the option to remove their books from OpenAI's training models, the Times has other concerns about AI tools like ChatGPT. NPR reported that a "top concern" is that ChatGPT could use The Times' content to become a "competitor" by "creating text that answers questions based on the original reporting and writing of the paper's staff."

As of this month, the Times' TOS prohibits any use of its content for "the development of any software program, including, but not limited to, training a machine learning or artificial intelligence (AI) system.""

-via Ars Technica, August 17, 2023

[weskie]

The Wolf and The Lamb (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

2000 words, established relationship, wound tending, possessive behavior, biting, blood, briefly saucy, probably counts as angst, part of the lover, leader, liar series | Fic Directory

"Love blackens the lamb." -Hélène Cixous

Wesker has never been one to yearn for a sense of permanence.  Change was a necessity.  One of life’s constants.  The constant in a world of variables.

At any moment, you could walk.  He made sure you knew the consequences long ago, of course.  You’d been presumed dead after the incident at the manor.  It only made sense given the magnitude of the self-destruct sequence.  You could return to the world beyond the compound at any time, but trouble would surely welcome you with open arms.  Justification for your absence would be mandatory, and that’s not to mention the tax-based nightmare that awaited you if and when the IRS should discover that you are not, in fact, deceased.

But you could leave.  

A thought that weighs heavily on his mind day in and out.  He’d never quite been one to be… possessive before.  Why bother when things move along so rapidly?  From the time he was a boy, he’s been going from class to class, school to school, laboratory to laboratory… His time with S.T.A.R.S. seemed to be the most consistent his life had ever been.

And now… there’s you.

You’re unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.  He supposes you’ve always been this way, though.  Always reaching out to him beyond the line others would never dare to cross.  Pushing through whatever shell he’d cocooned himself in for safety.  Distance was a form of protection, he’d come to realize.  Distance shielded him from the pain of loss.  It always has.

Not even Birkin, for all they had been through together, could be more than an admired colleague.  A decision that proved… apt in the end.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the origin of this new screaming need that had made itself more than at home within his chest.  It grows worse, he realizes, every time you treat him with tenderness.  Perhaps that’s where it all began.  Back in the station.  Growing like a living thing until its life spilled into his very being.

“Does it hurt?” 

The skin on his face is broken and marred.  The burns are nothing short of hideous. 

Wesker had regarded you with a scowl and turned toward the bathroom, making his way in to strip away the remnants of his failure.  He’d had half a mind to shatter the mirror.  Had that explosion not interrupted them, he would have torn Chris in two.  Or perhaps beaten him to a bloody pulp.  Maybe he would have even brought his lifeless corpse back to the compound for experimentation.  What is it that makes the Redfields so inexplicably lucky?  To face death and live despite all odds…

Despite him. 

He grit his teeth, leaning forward with clenched eyes.  The edge of the vanity is a fragile buoy in the storm of his own anger.  A new development following his perimortem injection and subsequent gain of power.  Fury comes as easily as breathing these days.  Impulses are a tad harder to control.  Were it not for a lifetime of training and conditioning, Wesker doubts he would have as tight of a lid on it as he does.

He’d only stripped his upper body bare by the time you made your presence known.

You’ve never left him to drown in his rage.  Even then, despite how he’d pushed you away at the door, you still found it in yourself to wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek to his back.  You are warm, but his skin runs hot.  In this way, you are like a balm.  Something cooling to douse the hellfire scorching his body and mind.

You made him sit at the edge of the bed.  It’s funny to think of it that way… that you could make him do anything at all.  An impossible feat for any other.  Yet it’s the truth.  Just as you make his anger dissipate bit by bit.  Perhaps it’s the glide of the pads of your thumbs against his forehead that sap away at it.  The way they smooth and slide with loving ease over the parts that hurt, spreading an ointment that chills the belligerent bite into something far more tolerable.

Until now, he hasn’t acknowledged the pain of his injuries.  That was the golden rule throughout his life.  Not minding that it hurts.  Disregarding the pain lest he give it power.  He’s never realized before that such an instinct is absent in your presence.  Here you are tending to his pain.  That which he refuses to acknowledge, you embrace and seek to soothe.

He lets his nails bite into your forearm.  He’s unsure if it’s a way to admit the truth to you or to ensure that you will remain in place, here, tending to him.

He fears the answer is far more complex.

His touches grow more firm by the day, it seems.  A hand at your cheek becomes a grip at your jaw.  An arm around your waist now pulls you tightly to his side.  You’ve noticed, of course.  Commented on it.  He’s never admitted that he can tell how your body reacts to such deeds.

At night, if and when he permits himself to rest, you must be pulled tight to his chest.  In turn, you always make a teasing remark about him being a ‘snuggle bug.’  His hands roam, but he dares not venture too far.  Despite the many months since that fateful night your lips first met his, neither one of you has caved to the call of flesh.  He’s unsure of your reasons, and frankly finds no trouble in the matter either way.  But for himself..?

Lust was no stranger, but you are more than a sensation to be chased and left behind.  As much as he yearns for such a coupling with you, he fears it.  What he may do to you… What you may do to him…

For as much as that burning, yearning need to lay claim to every part of you threatens to overpower his self control, he knows, without a doubt, such a unification would result in you consuming all that he is.  It is excitement and terror all in one.

He’s already given you the power to ruin him.  Maybe, though, he should sink his teeth and nails into you and ensure that you never do.  

The thought runs rampant in his head all day until you settle beside him for a nightly routine you’ve insisted upon taking over since day one.  His arm rests in your lap and, for a time, his mind is silent.  The alcohol pad glides over his skin, followed by a gentle blow of air from your lips.  He hasn’t the heart to tell you that such an act just contaminates the injection site all over again.  Perhaps it’s that you are contaminating him that makes this misstep fail to ring any alarms in his head. With the bite of the needle piercing his flesh comes the knowledge that there is some part of you now inside of him.  It courses through his veins in tandem with the stabilizing agent.  It will pass through his heart.  

You will pass through his heart. 

The thought hits him so rapidly that you’ve barely drawn the needle from his skin before he’s–

“Mmph!”

He swallows your startled sound in a kiss far more forceful than he means.  He can’t help it.  Can’t help the resurgence of that gnawing feeling, that desperate need to consume all that you are.  Every noise, every breath of yours is his to take.  Your tongue holds no chance of fending him off once he’s breached your lips, but he’ll surrender a sliver of control to ensure you stay right here, a pliant, sweet lamb in the maw of an especially greedy wolf.  

But you don’t seem to ask for such a relinquishment.  There’s no apprehension on your part as he plants a firm hand to your chest and guides you back, following inch by inch until he’s bent over you like a beast ready to feast upon a carcass.  Wesker’s deaf to the groan that leaves him, but he’s not at all oblivious to the way your mouth quirks into a smirk against his.

Is it hubris?  Or are you a lover enjoying the reactions of his body?  Perhaps you’re a sadist reveling in the thought that his control has waned so far.  

Your wrists are like porcelain in his grip.  He could break you and not even know he’d done it until you cry out for mercy.  But there is no need for such extremes.  Not when you hook a leg around his hip and pull him flush to your pelvis.

He parts from you to gasp.  

How dare you?  How dare you take the weakening threads of his self control and tease a razor's edge at their fraying strands?  Don’t you know what you’re doing?

His hips roll seemingly of their own accord.

You do, don’t you?  You know that leading him into this tears down every wall and puts him right in the palm of your hand.  You must know. 

Your lips dance like butterflies up the curve of his cheek, sporadically graceful in every delicate brush to his skin.  He realizes how tight he’s holding your wrists.  His nails are biting into your flesh not unlike they’d done back then.  For a brief second, he locks eyes with you.

You say the words, but his ears are ringing.  He heard it, but he can’t process it.  And, just like that, he can’t hide it anymore.  Just like the burns.  Like the memory of atrocities long buried in the skeletons of schools and punishments hidden away by healed flesh.  You pull the truth from him with such ease.  Three little words…

He doesn't mean to let it happen, only to hide and bury his secrets against your warmth. His teeth find you all the same. Finally, he bites. Finally, a mark that makes you squirm. A mark that makes you his.  The mewl that leaves you compliments so perfectly the coppery tang of your ichor.

“When you think of love, do you think of pain?”  

He should’ve never told you of his youth.

“What do you mean?”  He asked, eyes fixed on the file before him.  What a strange question…

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “But do you?”

He has no answer to give.  No point of reference, no foundation upon which to envision what love could be.  Perhaps he should think of his mentors or of the dormitory mothers employed for the care of the students.  Neither summons such a feeling.  When he was still a hopeful boy, he often imagined what it would be like to have parents – siblings, too, maybe.  In such fantasies, he found something warm growing in his chest.  Like a light nestled deep within.  It always ended the same, though.  He’d cease his thoughts and the light would dim, snuffed out and smothered by a rotten, hollow feeling.  By something painful.

Was that love?

Try as he might, he cannot cease the quiver of his jaw.  

When did your hands escape his grasp?  Why do your fingers rake so gently through his hair?  He holds you between his teeth, yet you cradle him.  

“I love you,” you say once more.  The words fall off your lips with such ease. A natural admission. 

The breath in his lungs has gone stale.  His eyes sting.  

He believes you.  

Why does the lamb love its wolf?

He believes you.

The lamb loves the wolf’s fragility, and the wolf loves the frail one’s force. 

He came to bed early that night.  Something in him screamed to do so.  Perhaps it was the lack of focus on his work.  A mind clouded by your question.

The warmth spills from between his clenched eyes.  He had no chance of hiding it.

He came to bed early that night.  He was greeted by welcoming arms and a smile brighter than the sun could ever hope to be.

Your lips press to his shoulder.  He swears he’s trying to hide every pathetic noise.  He doesn’t know why they escape anyway.

“Shh…”

He came to bed early that night because he thought of love.

“I’ve got you.”

Because he thought of you. 

*special thanks to @nshtn for pre-reading :)

[hellishjoel]

guardian angel

536 words / pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

word: freezing

warnings/information: war, injury, blood, medical-related stuff, angst, frankie harbors secret feelings for you

a/n: I wrote half of this whilst at the car dealership for 5 hours so you all get ANGST! my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

The chopper’s blades roar above you, but with each heavy blink, the sky turns brighter, and the rhythmic whoop whop whoop in your ears grows distant. 

All sounds echo and leave a ringing sensation that makes your head feel a strike of pain. You whimper and writhe against the stretcher, willing yourself to pass out to evade the agony. 

Every time you open your eyes, you see something different: the tail rotor spinning, the doors to the cockpit closing shut, and the air thickening as you take off until your body feels weightless. 

“Easy now,” a protective voice barks. The man’s dark waves whip around in the wind, his hat keeping them tame. The roar of the chopper faded, but Frankie’s voice stayed steady, a lifeline pulling you back.

The rotors are loud, whipping dust and debris into the air upon takeoff. “What happened?” Frankie’s pilot asks for clarity as they evade an ambush in a country they had no place being in. 

His hands tremble as they carefully search you for blood, his vision clouded by panic and his thoughts racing in a frantic blur. His training should take over—it’s what he’s prepared for, what he’s done countless times when life changes in an instant. He knows he should focus: take a breath, assess the situation, and help the person in front of him. But this is different. He’s not just saving anyone; he’s saving the woman he’s loved with an intensity he’s kept buried for years. Out of respect for the bond you share as partners in the field, he’s guarded that love like a secret, but now, with you in his arms, the weight of it feels impossible to ignore.

There was no room in war for love. 

The pilot snaps at him again, soaring through the air at a speed that has his lungs chasing lost breath. “She—was caught in the aftermath, there was an explosion, she didn’t pull back when we radioed, I think she was trying to get others to safety.” Of course, you were. War did a lot of fucked up things to people, but your humanity stayed constant. 

Every beat of the rotor felt like a countdown, and Frankie wasn’t ready to run out of time.

Your eyes peak open, and he can only imagine the unsteadiness you must feel. “I’ve got you, just stay with me, cariño. You’re gonna be okay.” His tone was reassuring, his hand in yours. Your grip was strong.

His other hand gently cradles your head. His fingers retract at the warm blood that drips crimson down his fingers. “Definitely got blown back. She’s got a hit to her head. Maybe a concussion.” 

Frankie’s no doctor, but you’re looking at him with eyes that prays he’s a God, someone who can save you and be your guardian angel. 

“Frankie,” your teeth chatter, “I’m f-freezing, please don't let me go.” 

Not a moment later, he’s securing a heated blanket over your front and squeezing your hand tighter, not wanting you to lose your hold. “We’re almost to base. They’ll get you patched up, okay? You're gonna be okay, baby.”

You close your eyes and interlock your fingers with Frankie’s. With your hand in his, he silently vowed that losing you was never an option.

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

[izzabela]

Ok, here me out! We both love Tomas (sweet cinnamon roll) I was thinking about what would happen if Tomas and the female reader get into an argument and it caused them to distance each other for a bit and it causing the reader to go on a mission for Liu Kang and while the reader is gone longer than planned Tomas starts to worry and lose his patience and decides to go after her?

I'm Sorry - Tomas x fem!reader

in which you and Tomas get into an argument before your mission, and Tomas is a bit antsy to apologize

a/n: Tomas would def be the little brother who always apologizes, whether his fault or not

ship[s]: tomas x fem!reader

warning(s): little angst? pre-kanon story (see what i did there)

get yo ass up, white boy

=====================

The air between you and Tomas could light an explosion if one was not careful.

Though you were not present, away on another mission by Liu Kang, it was clear that the remnants of that strife still followed the European assassin.

He gave harsher punishments to the initiates under his care, prolonged training hours, and he even punished his own losses with starvation and excessive workouts.

It worried his brothers, though it was not evident on their faces. Watching their youngest do this to himself was something that... terrified them to say the least. Ironic, since they were formidable ninjas.

It would all resolve itself, though, since you would be coming back today. Though, the memory of that fight laid in everyone's head.

*********

"Do you not realize how insane you're being right now?" Tomas howled at you as you sat on your shared bed, head turned and arms crossed.

Tomas roughly shut the door of your guys' bedroom, but his brothers were in hot pursuit to make sure nothing would go wrong once you had woken up from the healers.

Their mistake.

"Insane is not finishing the job," you spat back, turning your head. "Was I to come back empty-handed? Disappoint my grandmaster, our lord, our mission?!"

It was a rough mission, but you got some valuable info on a threat against Earthrealm thanks to your superior skills. Though, those very same skills did not protect you from the serious bodily harm you endured. Cut up and battered, you returned home like an abused animal.

"Not when you return home looking as you are now," Tomas pointed out, "You've been blinded to finishing the job, to the point of neglecting your own health!"

You scoffed, "Says you! You can go get healed without a word from me. But when I have to go get it done, it's like I've committed treason!"

From the outside, Kuai Liang and Bi Han gave a point to you for that one. However, Tomas was more experienced, and you had only recently been getting sent on more dangerous and high-stakes missions. Tomas had been doing this for years.

"If you had trained more, you would not be in this position," Tomas sighed. "Perhaps it was my fault for putting your name in too early."

You jaw dropped at this.

"Don't you dare pull this on me, Tomas," you said low as you get out of bed. Sure, your legs and wounds ached, but the adrenaline of your anger was fueling you to heights unknown.

"I'll have you know-"

"Mind your place," Tomas commanded, voice dripping with authority.

Tomas may be a brother to Kuai Liang and Bi Han, a technical inheritor to his clan, but he never felt like it. He often humbled himself by refraining from using any sort of authoritative tone, especially since he began dating you. Yes, he may be kind to his friends, his brothers, you, but he was still second-in-command along side Kuai Liang.

Of course there were times he needed to use his voice- but now wasn't the smartest time.

When Tomas realized what he had done, it was within a blink of an eye that a mean left-hook took him in, and a deadly powerful palm push sent him flying through the door. Tank the elder gods Kuai Liang and Bi Han remained on the side.

"Do not even bother coming back in here," you hissed, water swirling in your eyes as you turned around to go to sleep.

*********

That was but a week ago, now Liu Kang, Kuai Liang, Bi Han, and Tomas wait at the fire temple for you to come through the portal after your mission.

While his brother's remained calm and still-faced, Tomas was a little more antsy and nervous. You had left during your fight, and without proper apologies being made (not saying you did anything wrong). Tomas wanted to fix it immediately, and that would begin as soon as you came through the portal.

Right... now!

As the fires that lit the portal up continued to crackle and burn, any sign of your presence was not found. Liu Kang, focusing all his energy into finding you, could not sense you either.

Strange, since you were very punctual for any of your missions. It was a trademark that earned you the nickname "Dead-line" from the other ninjas.

"She is late," Kuai Liang points the obvious out.

"She must have had a run-in with something, perhaps we should-" Tomas is cut off by Bi Han.

"Under no circumstances will you do such a thing, Tomas. She is capable of this, so she is capable of coming home."

Liu Kang agrees, "I will keep the portal open and watch for her. While punctual is a great aspect, not everyone is immune to a little tardiness."

The brothers bow before heading out, Bi Han and Kuai Liang walking a little behind to watch Tomas. How did they know he was nervous? Well, he walked right in front of them, forgetting the order in which they travelled. And his eyes were also downcast, like clouds blocking the sun.

As well-trained as he is, emotions were naturally human. So, naturally, Tomas couldn't hide these feelings no matter his skills and experience.

"Tomas, all will be well," Kuai Liang tries to soothe his anxiety. He turns around, nodding to his words, but his face looks as if he is not accepting it.

"You will see to it you keep yourself in check," Bi Han scolds, "All will be well, carry on as per usual."

Tomas rolls his eyes as Bi Han strides forward. Kuai Liang just puts a hand on his shoulder and offers a kind smile.

"He means well, let us carry on for her," Kuai says, patting his shoulder before walking to follow his elder brother.

Perhaps tomorrow Tomas thinks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Except tomorrow you don't come, nor the day next, nor the day after.

You were tardy by three days, and as much as Tomas buried himself in training, missions, and some paperwork, he couldn't shake the feeling off that something was wrong- horribly wrong.

So, after dinner with his brothers, he waited until everyone was asleep before sneaking out of the palace to the Fire Temple. Mask and attire on, he calls on a portal to be opened to the temple.

Walking through, he is greeted by Liu Kang and some monks on guard. He bows, and Liu Kang does so to reciprocate, though is skeptical on the smoke ninja's unprecedented appearance.

"Tomas, this is unexpected," Liu Kang notes as he sizes him up.

"Lord Liu Kang, please permit me to go (y/n)," he says, bowing again to further his desperation in finding you. Liu Kang chuckles, telling him to raise his head.

"You love her very deeply, that much is evident," Liu Kang said, pulling out a chi-director from his pocket.

Tomas stares at the device, back at Lord Liu Kang, and then back at the device. He takes the glowing blue compass and bows deeply, revering him in respect before fire pops and cracks, and the portal opens. Tomas runs through the portal and allows the compass to guide him.

As he takes his surroundings in, Tomas realizes he's in the hinterlands of Outworld, and a cold part of Outworld at that. Of course, he was trained to deal with such weather, but being out for this far for this long, you may be on the brink of your doom.

The compass glows in Tomas's hands, and the hand inside spins like a twister gone rogue. Finally, it focuses on a direction southeast, and Tomas trudges in the growing snow of the region.

After following the compass, he was led to a cave in the side of a mountain. Inside, he saw the faint glow of a fire and heard low breathing from within.

As he rounds the inside, he finds you tending to a gash on your shoulder. You have plants with healing qualities by your side and a cloth loosely pulled over the bleeding. Plus your magic was working over the open wound.

"Who goes- Tomas?" your hands were in defensive positions, but they went back to your wound at him in your sight.

"My darling," he sighs, running to your side as he tries to stop the bleeding.

You wince at the force in which he pressed a ripped cloth into your shoulder, but welcome it as your magic was dulling the pain.

"Fancy seeing you here," you say with a sarcastic tone.

"Dear, please," Tomas lightly scolds you, in which you silently allow him to treat you.

It's quiet between both of you, and the only thing to fill the void of quiet was howling of the wind outside.

Tomas begins to stretch the cloth out in little strings, to make a makeshift bandage for your wound. He's staring at your back, and your head is turned to the side as he tends to the horrid wound.

"Usually you aren't this late," he tries to lighten the mood, but it's clear you're not up to the jokes.

Once Tomas wraps your wound perfectly, he moves around to face you, but your head remains away.

Instead of speaking, Tomas wraps you in the warmest, gentlest hug, and your eyes are shining with tears are you inhale his natural musk.

"Thank the elder gods you're alright."

Your shoulders rack in his chest as you cry and wrap a singular arm around him.

"I'm so sorry," you sob as tears begin flow, "I'm so sorry for being so mean, sorry for being so brash, you're rig-."

Tomas shushes you, one hand rubbing your head and the other your back in up and down motions. You cry harder at his tenderness- why wasn't he angry? Why was he so nice?

You literally chucked him out of the bedroom, and he remains kind to you?

"I don't care about that anymore," he whispers. "The minute you didn't come through the portal that day, everything else fell away."

Oh, that's right.

If it weren't for a rogue blade from the enemy, you'd have gotten home earlier.

You wince as the adrenaline begins to wear off, and the pain in your shoulder finally begins to settle in.

Tomas notices, and he chuckles as he sets you down against the wall softly.

"At least you won't be chucking me through doors anytime soon," he laughs as he begins to clean the wound up a bit.

You flinch at the pain, but push through so Tomas can make sure it doesn't get infected.

"I'm sorry, dear," you begin again. "Truly, I'm so sorry for doing that to you all those weeks ago."

Tomas shakes his head as he rubs some healing plants on the wound, "I want to apologize. Using my tone against you like that, especially after such an experience. It was uncalled for, dishonorable for a man."

He wraps the wound up again, holds a hand out to you, and picks you up after you take it.

"Let's get you home, dear," Tomas says as he sweeps you off your feet.

In his arms, you finally collapse and give your eyes a rest from the crying.

The real talk can happen later, you just need Tomas for now.

=====================

no yap notes

see y'all in the next fic!