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#Company Incorporation Near
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Company Incorporation Consultant in Lucknow | MY STARTUP SOLUTION
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I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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There is no obvious path between today’s machine learning models — which mimic human creativity by predicting the next word, sound, or pixel — and an AI that can form a hostile intent or circumvent our every effort to contain it. Regardless, it is fair to ask why Dr. Frankenstein is holding the pitchfork. Why is it that the people building, deploying, and profiting from AI are the ones leading the call to focus public attention on its existential risk? Well, I can see at least two possible reasons. The first is that it requires far less sacrifice on their part to call attention to a hypothetical threat than to address the more immediate harms and costs that AI is already imposing on society. Today’s AI is plagued by error and replete with bias. It makes up facts and reproduces discriminatory heuristics. It empowers both government and consumer surveillance. AI is displacing labor and exacerbating income and wealth inequality. It poses an enormous and escalating threat to the environment, consuming an enormous and growing amount of energy and fueling a race to extract materials from a beleaguered Earth. These societal costs aren’t easily absorbed. Mitigating them requires a significant commitment of personnel and other resources, which doesn’t make shareholders happy — and which is why the market recently rewarded tech companies for laying off many members of their privacy, security, or ethics teams. How much easier would life be for AI companies if the public instead fixated on speculative theories about far-off threats that may or may not actually bear out? What would action to “mitigate the risk of extinction” even look like? I submit that it would consist of vague whitepapers, series of workshops led by speculative philosophers, and donations to computer science labs that are willing to speak the language of longtermism. This would be a pittance, compared with the effort required to reverse what AI is already doing to displace labor, exacerbate inequality, and accelerate environmental degradation. A second reason the AI community might be motivated to cast the technology as posing an existential risk could be, ironically, to reinforce the idea that AI has enormous potential. Convincing the public that AI is so powerful that it could end human existence would be a pretty effective way for AI scientists to make the case that what they are working on is important. Doomsaying is great marketing. The long-term fear may be that AI will threaten humanity, but the near-term fear, for anyone who doesn’t incorporate AI into their business, agency, or classroom, is that they will be left behind. The same goes for national policy: If AI poses existential risks, U.S. policymakers might say, we better not let China beat us to it for lack of investment or overregulation. (It is telling that Sam Altman — the CEO of OpenAI and a signatory of the Center for AI Safety statement — warned the E.U. that his company will pull out of Europe if regulations become too burdensome.)
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Que Va a Pedir La Princesa? (What's the Princess going to ask for?)
Pairings: Phillip Graves x Alejandro's daughter reader
Word Count: 6,442
Warnings: SMUT! Loss of virginity, degradation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex, breeding, and more.
A/n: AHHHH!!! I did it! It's finished! Let me know what yall think, especially the spicy scenes. It's been a while since I wrote anything smutty. I definitely recommend to listen La Nina Fresa by Banda Machos and Playing Dangerous by Lana Del Rey. It's what I was listening to while writing. There are some Spanish phrases and I will try my best to provide translations at the end of the fic.
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After capturing Hassan and not long after that, having to set him loose, Shadow Company, Taskforce 141, Los vaqueros decided to let out their frustrations in Alexandro’s base. Carrying cases of liquor, tequila, and a variety of beer into the base and celebrating their semi-victorious mission.
Graves watched as his men drank amongst Los vaqueros and laughed amongst each other. His attention was soon brought back to the table of men he was sitting amongst. Alexandro, Ghost, Soap, and Rudy.
It was evident that Alexandro has had too much to drink, the bottles of beer and a nearly empty bottle of tequila as proof of how much he had. His words were starting to slur and his sentence nearly incoherent.
“My sweet, preciosa princesa…” he wailed. His head against the worn-down wood table. “She’s growing up to quickly…pinche cabrones…” he was starting to mumble, his words, the rest of his sentences lost to the men around him except Rudy.
“The capitán gets very emotional when talking about his daughter” Rudy explained, with worry on his face when looking at Alexandro. “He recently noticed that his daughter has some admirers…and she seems to love the attention.”
Suddenly Alejandro grabs Rudy’s shoulders and shakes him as Alejandro continues to rant. “Hermano, mi princesa…protegerla de esos animales.”
“Same goes for you all. If you ever see my daughter near another man, you have my permission to kill him…” he said with such intensity in his eyes. “Mi Princesa is my world, she’s my only hija and no man is good enough for her.”
All the men around the table nodded their heads to Alejandro’s words, somewhat understanding his frustration, all except Graves whose mind was elsewhere. Maybe if he had heard Alejandro’s rant, he could’ve spared himself the trouble that was yet to come.
Graves continues to zone in and out of the conversation in front of him, his eyes wandering around the room, his mind trying to make sense of the music playing, understanding every other word. Graves takes a sip of his beer as he tries his best to listen to Alejandro’s and Rudy’s stories but couldn’t help the feeling as if he’s being watched.
Graves looks away from the men at the table and his eyes travel around the room until they stop at you. You were sitting on the hood of one of the jeeps that were inside of the base, your legs swinging over the edge. You were all by yourself, the only thing keeping you company was the nearly empty bottle of beer you held in between your lap. He makes eye contact with you and notices the way your eyes widen, a blush forms on your cheeks, and the way you straighten up once you realize his attention is on you.
His eyes roam across your body. He notices the very short skirt you’re wearing, if you were to spread your legs a bit further, he would be able to see your underwear. He takes note of the cropped and low-cut top you’re wearing. Your dark hair is braided into two pigtails with ribbon incorporated into the braids. He noticed you were the youngest in the base. Far too young to even buy alcohol in the states, but old enough for Mexico.
He stares into your eyes again and couldn’t help but smirk at the way you squirm and quickly look away, watching as your face turns red.
His attention is back to the men at the table and noticed Alejandro had fallen asleep, his face planted against the table. Rudy continues to tell his story about how he met Alejandro during his training days, Graves trying his best to listen until he felt his side being nudged by the Scott beside him.
“I saw the way that lass was looking at you mate.” Soap said with a smirk and intentionally raised his eyebrows. Graves raised his eyebrows in return, waiting for the Scott to continue. “You should go over there, mate. Aye, you could even get lucky tonight.” Soap roughly slapped Phillips’s back.
Rudy overhears Soaps and Phillip’s conversation and stops his story.
“Who’s the lady?” Rudy asks as his eyes begin to wander around the room. “We need to help a Hermano out if this is true.”
“The young lass over there by the Jeep.” Soap exclaims while shaking his head toward where you were sitting. Graves should’ve noticed the way Rudy’s eyes widen in fear and the face of worry spreading across his face, but he didn’t, his eyes remained on you.
“No no no no. You must stay away from her. She’s---” Rudy was caught off by the sound of Alejandro jolting awake and violently coughing.  It wasn’t the first time Rodolfo was with Alejandro when he had too many drinks, he knew what was coming if he didn’t lead him to a restroom.  Rudy was quick to get on his feet and lead Alejandro away from the table before he emptied his stomach in front of his men.
Ghost stood up from his seat, “I’d stay away from her. She looks like she is nothing but trouble.” Ghost explained, looking in your direction before leaving the two men alone, calling it a night.
“Don’t listen to them mate. They ain’t nothing but cockblocks.” Soap mumbled; his lips pressed against the top of the beer bottle. “I’d walk over there and lean against the Jeep. Call her darling and watch as she blushes and squirms with the nickname. Maybe have my hand on her knee and the other on her waist. Eventually, My hand would slowl-“
“Fucking Hell, stop right there. I don’t want to hear how you’re gonna fuck her.” Graves cursed out. “Besides I’m far too old for her. Probably couldn’t handle the way I was eyeing her.”
Both men look back in your direction and they both couldn’t deny the way you were looking at the commander of the Shadow Company. Your eyes-maintained eye contact with his, the way you were batting your lashes at him, and the way your eyes innocently looked him up and down and lingered between his legs.
“Fucking hell. That lass is stripping you naked in her mind.”
Graves didn’t reply, his attention remained on you. He watched closely as your eyes looked around the room before stopping again at Graves. He watched as you bit your lip, the blush on your cheeks turning a furious shade of red as you slowly spread your legs.
Graves felt his dick twitch in his pants, ignoring the curses that were coming out of the mouth of the Scott beside him.
His eyes focused between your legs, the skirt rising higher and higher until suddenly the bottle you held in your hands was placed right between your thighs, blocking the sight of your panties. His eyes went back to your eyes, noting the mischievous look in your eyes.
If Graves were paying attention to his surroundings, maybe he would’ve noticed the shocked stares from the members of Los Vaqueros, the hushed whispers among themselves. His full attention was on you, the light from behind you made you look like an angel, but Los Vaqueros knew you were the devil in disguise.
They knew you were forbidden fruit; you were the serpent from Adam and Eve.
Los Vaqueros knew they were about to be witnesses to your serpent tongue, luring Graves to your forbidden fruit, oblivious to the consequences he will face with God.
Los Vaqueros watched intently as Graves stood from his seat and walked his way towards you, all of Alejandro’s men curious as to where this interaction would go.
———
You watched as Graves walked up towards you; each step he took radiated the confidence he carried. You watched as he leaned beside the Jeep you were seated on top of. You looked down at him and sent him a sickeningly sweet smile. You couldn’t help but enjoy the leverage that came with sitting on the hood of the car, your seated position on the hood had the man before you look up to you. Making it even easier for him to fall into your hands.
“What bring you here güero.” You teased as your hand slowly crept up his arm.
“Keeping you company, beautiful. You seemed awfully lonely over here.” He said as he moved from his spot on the side of the Jeep and instead took the spot between your legs. His hands now resting on your knees, noticing the way your legs jumped at the feeling of his warm hands on your skin. “That empty bottle keeping you company?”
You looked down at him as he looked up at you, his blue eyes reminding you of a needy puppy wanting attention. “It was but I guess you’ll do for now” You replied as your hands traveled to his head and played with his hair. You shivered at the feeling of his breath against your thighs as his head rested against the hood of Jeep, shaking his head and low chuckles escaping his lips. “Mi Papi is so protective of me. He’s scared all the men away from me.” You whined.
“And who’s your ‘Papi’?” Graves asked, looking up at you curiously as his hand slowly traveled up and away from your knee and rested on your thigh.
“If I tell you you’ll leave me too.” You pouted.
“Nothing scares me, princess.” He mumbled against the skin of your thigh, the stubble tickling your skin.
“Really? Nothing scares you?” You asked innocently. You leaned forward, placing your hands on his arms. “But my Papi is a very scary man. I’d even call him a monster”
“Monster? That’s a little harsh ain’t it?” he asked with raised eyebrows. He watched as you shook your head no and laughed at your reaction. His grip on your thighs tightened before releasing them and holding your hands instead. “Well, if a monster is hiding you away, well then it’s my duty to save the sweet and docile princess, isn’t that right.”
“Ah, the güero as my knight in shining armor?” You placed your hand under your chin in a thinking manner, bit your lip, and pretended to think about his words. “Hmmm…I guess you’ll do but you have to prove your worth to me.” You said, looking deep into the man’s eyes.
“Why would I leave the monster who’s protected me for so long and follow a Knight who might not even be able to protect me and treat me like the princess I am.” You said why squeezing his hands before shoving them off you. “I am quite the spoiled princess.”
“Spoiled and bratty.” Graves commented. “But whatever the princess desires I will deliver.” He gently grasped your hand and pecked a kiss on the back of your hand.
You watched as he took a step back, giving you the chance to slide off the hood of the car and stand before him, the height leverage you had was gone. Suddenly feeling a lot smaller under his lustful gaze. You looked up at him, innocently batting your lashes.
“What this princess wants…” you leaned in close to him, your breasts pressed against him, your hand resting on his chest. “… is for you to pleasure her.” You heard him curse under his breath, enjoying the way his eyes squeezed shut at your words.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into baby.” He whispered into your ear, one hand holding onto your waist while the other on your lower back.
“I think I do, commander,” you said sternly.
“Once I get my hands on you, you’ll be crying for your daddy to come to save you.” He muttered against your ear. His hand slowly travels lower and lower until it’s resting on your ass.
“I don’t need my Papi to save me.” You teased back. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” Your hand traveled from his chest to the area between his legs, softly squeezing the growing bulge between his legs.
Los Vaqueros watched as you led the commander of the Shadow Company to his grave.
“Eso Gringo tiene el Muerte esperándolo”
A chorus of laughter can be heard as the men from the shadow company sat confused.
“What does that mean?”
“That white man has death waiting for him.” a member of Los Vaqueros explained.
“He’s about to fuck the only daughter of Alejandro Vargas, our Capitán.”
———
Graves followed behind you as you led him down a corridor with doors every few feet. His eyes constantly roam up and down your body. Your long legs, your plush thighs, the skirt bouncing with your every step, your lower back exposed due to the top you were wearing.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you.
Suddenly you twirled to look at him, walking backward slowly until coming to a complete stop.
“What’s wrong? Having second thoughts?” Phillip asked, looking for any uncertainty on your face.
You shook your head before answering him.
“No. I want to do this. But my room or yours? I might have a monster waiting under my bed.” You said while twirling the end of your pigtail.
“We wouldn’t want that now, would we? “Graves replied. He walked up to you, turned you around, placed his hand on your lower back, and led you to his room where he was staying temporarily.
You read the names on each plaque that was placed on the door of each room.  
Riley
‘…’
McTavish
‘…’
Parra
‘Oh,’ You thought to yourself.
Vargas
‘No mames,’ you cursed to yourself.
Graves
While Graves fished for the key in the pocket of his jean, you glanced around the corridor, paranoid that your father could step out of his room at any moment. That your father could appear right behind you, hell you worried that his second-in-command was watching you and waiting for the opportunity to snitch on you.
As soon as you heard the door click to Graves’s room, signaling that he had unlocked it. You shoved yourself to his room and pulled him in before closing the door shut.
“So eager for me?” Graves asked, slightly startled at the speed you pulled him into his room.
“I’m just impatient.” You replied. “My daddy never made me wait for what I wanted.”
“Is that so?” Graves asked. He watched as you sat at the edge of the bed. His eyes roamed your body as you stretched your arms, letting your body fall into his bed and letting out a contempt sigh at the feeling of the soft mattress on your back.
“What’s the hold-up gringo?” You asked, holding your upper body on your elbows. “I don’t like to wait.”
You watched carefully as Graves walked up to your body before deciding to kneel between your spread legs.
“Such a fucking spoiled princess. Your father did such a poor job of raising you.” He commented as he removed your shoes and socks. “But I’m no better. Following your every wish.” You shivered at his soft pecks that started at your ankles and led up to your thighs.
You shut your eyes, trying your best to control your breathing as you felt his hands pulling at the end of your skirt, and letting it rest at your ankles.  You squeezed your legs shut as you felt his fingers resting on the elastic of your panties.
“You’re acting as if you’ve never been touched before baby.” Graves looked up at you and watched as your eyes widen at his words. “Jesus Christ” he whispered.
Suddenly both of your thighs were gripped harshly and forcibly spread apart. You watched Graves process your reaction to his words. “Never?” He asked.
“Never.” You responded bashfully. “Like I said my Papi chased all the boys away. Besides, I’ve wanted the touch of a real man, not from a boy.”
“You’ll show me the touch of a real man, right?” you asked. You were unsure if the fact that you were a virgin affected anything.
“Whatever the Princess wants,” he muttered against the skin of your thighs, his hot breath hitting your entrance through your panties. “She gets.”
You whimpered at the feeling of a soft kiss he left through your panties. Your breathing quickly becomes labored as he continues to kiss and suck at your thighs, bruises slowly forming. You whined as the man between your legs continued to peck kisses at your covered pussy, sometimes even blowing air just to get a rise out of you.
“C’mon baby, keep making those pretty little noises. Let me know I’m spoiling the Princess the way she should be.” He mumbled; his lips pressed once again at the fabric of your underwear.
After minutes of endless teasing, you shuddered at the feeling of his fingers tugging at the elastic of your underwear. You felt him slowly pull down your underwear and watched it fall from your legs. The panties that were once covering the most intimate part of your body now rested on the fingertips of the man before you.
“Fucking hell, look just how wet you are baby.” He cursed as he examined the wet patch on your panty. “Looks like you fucking pissed yourself.”
“S-shut up, fucking pendejo” You stuttered out, embarrassed at his choice of words. Your cheeks flared at hearing him laugh.
“Sorry, princess. Daddy didn’t mean to upset you.” He said as he spread your legs further and hauled them over his shoulders. You squeaked at his rough treatment when he gripped your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. “Let me make it up to you.”
Not even having a second to process his words you let out a loud moan that had you covering your mouth. You didn’t even know you were capable of moaning so loudly, but how could you not when his tongue licked at your folds? Sucking at your arousal like a starved man. You whine and whimper at the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. Your hands harshly grip the bed sheets as you start to squirm. The stubble on his face adds to the pleasure as it tickles your body.
“F-fuck” You whined as your hands moved to his hair. Your finger raking through his hair as you start to tug. You feel as if your eyes roll to the back of your head as you heard him growl, sending vibrations to your core. “Please…daddy…. hah” you moaned.
Involuntarily, your body lunges forward as you felt his thumb rest on your clit. You cried out when you felt him press down and move his thumb in a circular manner. Tears were rolling down your face, the pleasure was too much for you. You hadn’t noticed you were trying to push yourself away from his mouth until you felt a harsh blow to your pussy.
You looked down at him with tears in your eyes. Shocked that he even decided to smack you on your pussy.
“You’re gonna fucking take it, sweetheart.” He stood up from his position and leaned over to you and harshly gripped your jaw. “I don’t want you to whine or complain that it’s too much. If you even dare to push me away again, I’ll go fucking find your Papi and tell him his spoiled little princess is trying to act like a big girl and ask for things she can’t handle. Am I clear?”
You shook your head yes and wiped away your tears. You whimpered again when he landed another blow to your pussy.
“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Atta girl." he grinned down at you before resuming his position between your legs. His mouth wastes no time to devour you once again. You whimpered and panted at the feeling of his lips against your folds, his tongue licking at your arousal. His face was buried deep into your thighs, his nose pressed against your throbbing bead.
“Ah! So, f-fuckin good…ai Papi…” you cried out. You started to buck your hips against his mouth, eagerly trying to find your high. Your legs started to feel numb, and your moans got higher and much more frequent.
“So, fucking wet baby.” Graves muttered against your folds. Anything below his nose was drenched in your fluids. His teeth tugged at your clit, and you cried out at the sting. “Gonna fucking cum baby?”
“yes yes yes yes” you chanted. You squeezed your legs shut around his neck, bringing him closer and in place. You were close, you couldn’t stop squirming, tears rapidly falling down your face, and incoherent curses escaping your lips.
The way your thighs were squeezing his head, he could die at any moment, and he wouldn’t mind. He could see the epitaph on his headstone,
Died doing what he enjoyed the most, eating wet pussy.
Pecking a soft kiss on your clit had you squirting on his face. Your thighs squeezed around his head, and shortly after your legs laid limply on his shoulders, your mouth was wide open, but no sounds were coming out, your eyes were rolled back, and your body was left trembling.
Phillip stood up from between your legs, a wide grin on his face. His shirt that he was wearing was completely soaked from your juices. He couldn’t help but laugh as you were quietly chanting ‘Papi’ repeatedly.
“Your Papi isn’t coming to save you.” Phillip teased as he gently smacked and played with the flesh of your inner thighs. “Besides, isn’t this what the Princess wanted? For me, to pleasure her?”
You looked up at him with glossy eyes and gently smiled at him.
“Keeping going,” you breathed out. “I’m…still not satisfied.
Graves looked down at your tired-out body. “You’re biting more than you can chew, princess.”
 He watched as you wobbly got on your knees and reached over to him. He sat beside you and watched as your small fingers tried to unbutton his shirt, whining at your failed attempt, and just tugging at the ends. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and a pout on your lips. “Use your words, princess. What do you want?”
“Take your clothes off. I want to please you too.” You whined. You whimpered when he harshly gripped your chin and squeezed your cheeks together, forming an o-shape with your lips. His thumb traced your glossy lips.
“Didn’t your Papi teach you some manners?” Graves asked, looking down at your smaller form.
“Por favor, senor.” You begged. Graves let out a small laugh, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before pulling away and stripping himself from his clothes. You quickly did the same to the few clothes you had left. Pulling your top off and reaching your hands back to unclasp your white lace bra.  Your breasts slightly bouncing after being freed from their restraints. By the time you had finished removing your bra, Graves had already finished removing his clothing, leaving him in his briefs.
You smiled as you saw his eyes roam your naked body, his eyes lingering on your breasts. You gently pushed yourself off the bed and kneeled before him. Your mouth-watering as you eye the hard bulge that was being restrained by his briefs. Your hands resting on his thighs, your lustful eyes looking up at his.
“Can I?” you asked. Your fingers trail closer and closer to your destination.
“I’m all your baby.”
With shaky fingers, you pulled at the elastic band and gasped at his tip smacking against your cheek. You looked up at him with wide eyes, shocked at how well-endowed he was.
“So big” you whispered in shock.
“Only the best for the princess.”
You looked back down at his cock and licked your lips before pressing small kisses starting from the base and all the way to the tip. Gasps and soft moans escaped his mouth at your gentle touch.
“What would your Papi think if he saw you with a cock in your mouth,” Phillip asked, his hand gently resting on the top of your head.
“He’d kill you.” You muttered against his tip, swallowing the tip whole, stopping Graves from forming any more thoughts. Your mouth, so wet and warm, gently sucking at his big tip. His eyes were squeezed shut as he bit his lip from the pleasure of your mouth. You gently sucked and licked at the tip, reminding you of the countless times when you would tease Los Vaqueros. Sucking and licking a popsicle your father had given you. Humming and eyeing Rodolpho whose eyes would linger on your lips before noticing the evil glint in your eyes.
Suddenly you found yourself gagging, your wide eyes looking up at the male in front of you. His head tilted and looking down at you with a wide grin.
“Stop with the teasing, baby.” He said playfully. “Or am I going to have to do everything for you?”
Not answering his question, you opened your mouth wide and tried your best to fit him all in your mouth. Tears pricked at your eyes; he was far too big for your mouth, but you lived to satisfy. Trying to suppress your gags, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you started to bob your head up and down his length. Your tongue swirling all over his length and humming in satisfaction from the quiet moans and grunts that escaped Phillip’s lips.
“So, fucking good princess…. fucking hell…” he cursed. “If I didn’t know any better, this isn’t your first time using that pretty mouth of yours.”
You pulled away from his cock and innocently batted your lashes at him. “I’ve had a lot of practice on some popsicles. Those seemed to be Rodolpho’s favorite treat to give me, but I’ll always end up in a mess.” 
Your words elicited a laugh from the man. “Such a fucking tease. No wonder your Papi kept you locked up.” Graves didn’t give you the time to reply to his words before thrusting his hips into your mouth, you gagged and whined around his length at the sudden intrusion. His hand harshly gripped the back of your head and set a steady pace for you to suck him off.
Tears were spilling down your face, drool escaping the sides of your lips. Your hands claw at his thighs, your nails digging into his skin. Your eyes stared at his eyes while you sucked him off. You hummed around his length.
“C’mon, baby…c’mon, baby…c’mon baby…” he cursed out. “Fuuuck.”
You hummed at the praise and squeezed your eyes shut in pleasure. Your left hand held onto his thigh while your right hand found its way to your clit, teasing yourself. With one last final thrust, he snapped his hips, his cock reaching the back of your throat, leaving you gagging and coughing. Spurts of cum spewing into your mouth. You looked up into his eyes as you swallowed as best as you could.
You pulled away from his cock, making a loud ‘pop’ as your lips left his tip. You showered his dick with small kitten kisses, mumbling thank you repeatedly.
“Thank you, Daddy,” you muttered one last time before leaving a big kiss on the tip. You stood back on your feet and stood on your tippy toes, pouting your lips at Phillip, waiting for a kiss from him. Phillip moved a hand to cup your jaw while the other found its way to your waist. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, you eagerly reciprocated the kiss. Your tongues fighting for dominance.
You felt his body pushing you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until the back of your knees hit the mattress and you find yourself sprawled on the bed. You watched as Phillip slowly leaned over your body, his arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His face nestled in the side of your neck, sucking, and licking at your neck, leaving you whimpering and squirming under his touch. Your hand finds shelter in his hair while the other scratches at his back.  
His hips rutted against yours, his hardened cock teasing at your entrance, your slick arousal making it easier for your slit to be teased. The tip of his cock occasionally hits your clit, leaving you shuddering. Your legs locked together behind his back, keeping him pressed against you.
“So, fucking good for me princess. Are you enjoying the touch of a man?” he asked, his lips now pressed against your breast. His mouth sucking on one breast while his hand tugs and pinches at your other.
“Please just fuck me…. please” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore. Use me.” You whined into his neck. You couldn’t handle the way his hips rutted against yours, teasing your entrance, you just wanted him inside. You wanted to be fucked.
“Use you?” Graves asked, he slightly pulled away from your hold and looked at your needy face. “I don’t think your Papi would like it if I didn’t treat his Princess with care. Got to return you in one piece.” he teased as he turned your body around, leaving you to lay on your stomach.
“I’m not a fucking princess. I’m yours.” You sobbed. “My pussy is yours. I want you to fuck me as you own me. I want to be treated like a whore. Your personal slut.” You rambled. You raised your hips and leaned your ass against his cock.
“Stop treating me like a princess…” you cried out. “…and just fuck me.”
Without hesitation or warning, Phillip snapped his hips into you, his cock sliding into your pussy with ease. You harshly gripped the sheets and screamed out into the mattress. You had your face pressed against the mattress as tears trailed down your face, crying out at the sudden intrusion at your virgin pussy. Your cunt stretched around his cock, despite the arousal that led to a quick intrusion. Your face was roughly pulled off the mattress, his hands having a tight hold on your now loose braids and pulling back on them.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? To be fucked and used.” He asked as he leaned over your shoulder and whispered into your ear. “I’m not going to go gentle on you, that’s for princesses, and you’re not a princess. You’re a fucking slut.”
He started to thrust into you at a fast pace, one hand holding onto your braids while the other held your hips.  Your moans and cries echoed across the room; Phillip wouldn’t be surprised if the rooms surrounding his could hear you.
“So, fucking tight...” Graves cursed, his eyes shut tight at the way your pussy clenched around his cock, making it difficult to thrust in and out. “Gonna fucking ruin you, baby.” He hissed out. His hand smacked against your ass, leaving a red imprint shaped like his hand.
You were fucking drunk on his cock. Blabbering incoherent words as drool spilled from your lips, your eyes wide open and rolled to the back of your skull.
“So…f-full…. s-shit…” you moaned. His thrusts never faltered, his hips snapping brutally against you as his hand smacked at your ass and watched as a nice red slowly spreads on your skin. “So, fucking good daddy…fuck”
You felt as if your breath was knocked out of you, your cunt squeezed around him that him moaning. He knew he had found your sweet spot, the way you whined as he repeatedly hit the same spot over and over that left you pleading was proof enough.
“I-I…. can’t…it’s too much…” you sobbed. You squirmed, trying to get out of his hold that only had him pulling at your braids even harder, holding you in place. “Please…. I can’t…. Papi” you cried out.
Hearing you cry out for your father, Phillip landed three hard blows to your ass that left you creaming around his cock. Your body shuddered as you moaned loudly as you reached your high. Your body went limp, Graves pulled your body closer to him. Your back flushed against his chest as his hand gripped your throat which elicited a whimper from you. You continued to softly chant ‘Papi’ under your breath as you felt your consciousness drift.
“What the fuck did I say?” Graves growled into your ear. “Your Papi isn’t coming to save you so suck it up, baby. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
You could only shake your head and whine.
“Inside…” you whispered.
“Inside?” Graves smirked against the skin on your neck. “Want my cum inside this wet pussy?”
“Yes daddy…fuck your babies into me…” you whined. You felt your cunt clench on his cock again, you were nearing your second orgasm. Phillip groaned at your words and imagined your belly round with his kid. His pace started to falter, sloppily thrusting into you, his cock throbbing and ready to burst inside of you.
“Fucking hell…gonna cum inside this fucking wet pussy…” his hips harshly snapping into you, your ass jiggling on impact. “Fuck my babies into you…make you a mommy. You’re stomach gonna be round with my child.”
“Yes, please daddy. I want to be a mommy. Claim me with your cum” you moaned before feeling spurts of cum spraying inside of you. Your body convulsed as you reached your high once again, you felt yourself squirting, drenching Phillip’s thighs, and the sheets below you form a small puddle from your fluids.
Phillip let go of his hold on you and watched as you fell forward into the mattress. You were beyond exhausted and quickly found yourself drifting off to sleep, leaving Phillip alone with his thoughts.
Phillip just stood over your body for a few minutes, catching his breath and analyzing your body. His cum was slowly gushing out of your cunt and spilling down your thighs mixing with your arousal and cum. Bruises littered your body. Some bigger bruises could be found on your knees, while smaller bruises shaped like his fingertips could be seen on your thighs, hips, waist, and your neck. Hickies were scattered around, only being able to differentiate between a bruise and a hickey would be the small teeth marks that can be found with each hickey.
Unknowingly, Graves had just finished deflowering the only daughter of Alejandro Vargas. His princess whom he spoiled rotten and constantly praised to his men. His daughter could do no wrong in his eyes. Alejandro unknowingly slept soundly next door as his daughter teased the commander of the Shadow Company into fucking her and filling her with his seed. The very same daughter who’s comfortably sleeping in the arms of her lover, the cum of her lover still very much inside of her.
-------
“Who’s your father?” Graves asked. You snuggled deeper into his chest; your leg was thrown over his.
“Don’t worry about it.” You groaned. “Let me sleep.” You complained as you pulled the covers back onto your body and shut your eyes.
“Give me a hint baby,” Phillip begged as he littered kisses on your forehead, trying to make you open your eyes. “I won’t be able to concentrate on my mission, all I will be able to think is who’s the unlucky man with such a fucking tease of a daughter.”
“Ponte las pilas guey.” You grumbled as you turned to face away from him, trying to get some extra minutes of sleep. Your next words left the commander uneasy. “Who’s the man that Los Vaqueros respect the most?”
You had drifted off to sleep, leaving the commander to get ready for his meeting with your father and with the two men from taskforce 141.
For the first time in a long time, Phillip Graves dreaded the day ahead of him.
------
The entire compound of Los Vaqueros was filled with shouts from Alejandro. Anybody who was in the compound when the shouting started, knew of the grave mistake that the commander of the Shadow Company had done.
“YOU FUCKED MY PRINCESA! MY DAUGHTER!” Alejandro shouted. He was being held back by Rodolpho and Ghost while Soap stood by the side and watched the interaction.  
“I didn’t know she was your daughter.” Phillip reasoned. “It was an honest make. She came onto me.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are cabron? Lying to my face. My hija would do no such thing.” Alejandro shouted back. “She’s a fucking saint, an angel.”
You stood behind your father, looking down and playing with the ends of Grave’s shirt that he lent to you, listening to your lover and father argue. If only you had waited just another five minutes before leaving Phillip’s room, then perhaps you wouldn’t have crossed paths with your father who was walking down the corridor with Rodolpho, Ghost, Soap, and Graves behind him.
“With all due respect Alejandro, your daughter is the farthest thing from a saint.” Graves said, his finger pointed at you.
“I’ll fucking kill you gringo.” Alejandro shouted
“But Papi” you cried out. You were hugging your father from behind, burying your face into his back. “He promised he’ll take care of me. He’ll take care of his babies that resulted from our lovemaking.” You whined while placing your hands over your stomach.
Graves couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. You were trying to pin it all on him.
You were the devil, a fucking serpent.
You choose your words wisely, deflecting any responsibility and any of Alejandro’s anger that he had for you fell onto Graves. Making yourself seem like your father’s sweet, oblivious, and innocent princesa. Making it seem as if you fell for the lies of a white man. As if you weren’t the one eagerly spreading your legs and begging him to fill you with his cum.
Graves noticed the small smirk on your face when Alejandro continued to try and break away from the hold of the two men holding him back.
“Don’t do that. Don’t…do that. Don’t you dare lie to your father and pin this all on me. You were the one spreading your legs.” Graves shouted at you with an accusatory finger.
You pouted at his words as tears started to prick at your eyes, hugging your father from behind as you cried and muttered that the gringo had tricked you.
Los Vaqueros snickered at the commotion while the men from the Shadow Company sighed at their commander’s mistake.
You were a serpent, you lured Phillip Graves into taking a bit of your apple, and his punishment from God waits for him.
------
*Translations are not 100% accurate, some are adjusted to help translate over better*
Translations:
"preciosa princesa" (Precious princess)
"Pinche cabrones" ( fucking bastards)
"Hermano, mi princesa…protegerla de esos animales.” (Brother, my princess, protect her from these animals)
"hija" (Daughter)
"güero" (White man)( light-skinned) (blonde man)
"Papi" (father) (dad) (daddy)
"no mames" (got to be fucking kidding me)
"Gringo" (White man)
"ponte las pilas guey" ( put on the batteries dude)( use your head)
Tag List:
@churchofrain @bbaengtan @mortylover @ghostly-thorn
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jinnie-ret · 6 months
Note
Could you write a - stray kids x fem! ninth member, who is gyaru and other idols, look at her weird for it?
For context, Gyaru is a Japanese fashion subculture. The term gyaru is a Japanese transliteration of the English slang word gal. The term for gyaru was introduced in Japan by the American jeans company Lee, who introduced a new line of jeans to their brand Wrangler
gyaru, jjang yeppeuda
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stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
genre: fluff, angst (little)
content warnings: none
word count: 0.9k
summary: despite her normal confidence in owning her aesthetic, y/n begins to feel uncomfortable when she feels the judging stares of other idols
I just love love love how you gave me some background info, that was so sweet of you! I hope you enjoy!
Requested by: @moe-kyun-kyun
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Y/N was the only Japanese member in the group and loved to show off her culture, whether this was through the language, the food, or her style. The latter was something she had received hate about in the past, due to her non conforming style, Gyaru. Y/N specifically indulged into the Rokku subculture, loving the edgy rock aesthetic which the stylists at JYP were quite happy with as well, considering Stray Kids often pulled off fierce looks on stage. Stays soon got to learn more about the Gyaru style, and when they learnt the history behind it and that it was breaking down the typical beauty standards of dark hair and fair skin, they could only applaud the example that Y/N was setting. To not care.
With her bleached hair, false eyelashes that stood out more with the white eyeshadow around her eyes, Y/N felt badass. Not to mention the leather elements incorporated into her outfit that created semblance with what her other members were wearing too.
"Wahh, Y/N you look so cool," Jeongin gasped as he looked at her outfit. Being someone who was into fashion himself, albeit a casual neutral style, he was always interested to see what she'd be wearing.
"Thanks Jeonginnie!" Y/N smiled, taking a seat next to him as they all found where they'd be sat amongst other idols at the awards show.
That sentiment of not caring though, was slipping away. Being one of the first groups seated wouldn't normally be a bad thing, but all Y/N could focus on was the eyes that stuck to her as they walked past, the only comfort being when Twice or ITZY waved a hello to them all.
"You good, Y/Nnie?" Hyunjin patted her shoulder to gain her attention. He had easily observed her antsy behaviour, her leg bouncing up and down, and her hand fiddling with the multiple bracelets that occupied her opposite arm.
"They're all giving me weird looks," Y/N muttered, feeling disheartened. She couldn't help but look around feeling paranoid, and the other members noticed, catching her expression from the other end of the table.
"Here, swap seats with me, Rocky," Chan suggested, about to stand. Rocky was a nickname only he seemed to use for her, connecting her fighting attitude with the one Sylvester Stallone played in an old movie, as well as her obvious Rokku aesthetic.
"No, no, I don't want to cause a scene," Y/N shook her head subtley.
"You won't, just pretend we're talking about something," Changbin added on, and so Y/N nodded and swapped seats with Chan, moving more to the back end of their table rather than being near the other groups.
"Okay, I do feel better now," Y/N nodded with a sigh of relief.
"Good," Minho simply said and patted her knee before paying attention to the stage again.
"And the winner of Most Popular Group, 2022 is... Stray Kids!" the hosts of the awards began clapping as fans cheered wildly for the group as they headed on stage.
Y/N caught eyes with Felix from across the table as they look at each other with the biggest grins on their faces. Dread returned however when they went on stage. She had just moved out of the way so that she didn't have to face the judgemental stares of other idols, but now she was dead center in front of them, as well as the rest of the audience too.
"It's ok, Y/N, don't let it bother you, you never normally do," Seungmin whispered into her ear as Chan began his speech. She nodded thankfully.
"...and I also want to give a big thanks to our staff! Our stylists have given us amazing outfits, especially tonight," Chan winked at Y/N a hint of smugness in his voice as he indirectly told the other kpop stars to mind their own business.
The group went backstage for a moment with their award and Y/N thankfully hugged Chan.
"Thank you, I saw what you did there."
"I think everyone did, our leader has a habit of dissing our haters," Jisung patted Chan on the shoulders, feeling hyped up from winning.
"Woah, Stays clearly noticed too haha, they're already spamming Twitter," Hyunjin held up his phone as everyone gathered around to see.
"'Best leader Chan', and oh, they've put the video too!" Felix tapped on the video and they watched themselves win the award.
"I still can't believe we won, wow!" Changbin shook his head, clearly in shock.
"We deserve it, we worked hard this year," Y/N commented, initiating a group hug between them all.
Later on that evening, as they headed home, Y/N was sat next to Minho and Seungmin at the back of the car.
"You were in your head today," Minho commented as he stared out of the window.
"Me?" Y/N double checked he was talking about her, as he hummed in response and continued talking.
"I could tell, Y/Nnie, but you can't let them see it bothers you. Then they win," he turned to her this time.
"I know, it's just, this is how I express myself and when other people think I'm weird it gets to me sometimes," Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the car seat.
"We're all weird, but if everyone thinks you're weird they've got another thing coming when they get to know the rest of us, especially Minho hyung," Seungmin joked from the other side of you.
"You're so lucky our precious Y/N is sat between us right now, Seungmin-ah," Minho smiled through gritted teeth, but the interaction made Y/N giggled and they were glad to cheer her up a bit.
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
Dubious Headlines | Aemond Short Story (Part 1/3)
Aemond x Reader Modern!AU Masterlist
Synopsis: In a world where Dragon Incorporation is the most powerful firm in town, Rhaenyra Targaryen's last announcement sends you, a journalist, to interview the younger sons of the family. However, you did not ask for any of this.
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Viserys Targaryen was sick, and had for many years bequeathed all of his shares in the care of his children. But everybody knew that the Targaryen was a drama family, and that strife was ever present between the different siblings. Lately, the eldest, Rhaenyra, had made an announcement in which she said to intend her branch of the company to take a whole other direction, putting the other branches managed by her brothers and sister in a difficult position.
“Y/N, where are Mathilda and Sam?”
You raised your head from your computer to look at your boss, M. Vander.
“Uh… I don’t know, I have not seen them all morning. Covering the charity event maybe?”
The man looked around desperately, thinking. “Ok then," he decided, eyes darting at you. “In my office please.”
You looked bewildered. You swore that if you he gave more work because Sam and Mathilda had run off again…
“I need you to go to Dragon Incorporation and interview Aegon Tagaryen,” he announced as he sat behind his desk.
You internally cursed. As if you did not have enough work already. “What? Why me? I cover cultural events, I am not…”
“You did hear about Rhaenyra’s announcement right?” he interrupted you.
“Yes, but since when are we interested in gossip, sir?”
“It’s not gossip. It’s gathering impressions on the changes that might have an influence on the citizens of the city. I’m sorry but you are the only one available that is competent enough Y/N.”
Please, anything but this.
“I- I don’t think this is a good idea sir, Mathilda is the one who usually interviews them I-”
“Y/N, I know you will manage perfectly. Take care of this please.”
You deeply inhaled as he dismissed you, nodding and got out of the office.
The reason why you dreaded the interview, except for the fact that it was absolutely not your area of expertise, is that Aegon Targaryen, second son and head of the communication department at Dragon Company, had such a reputation that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. As a journalist, you were usually one of the firsts to learn what was new in town, and Aegon was definitely in the top 5 of the most scandalous things you had seen. Besides the accusations, the trials, the complaints and the police reports that most of the other agencies tried to hide from the public, he was also clearly a man that just did not care about his actions. He liked doing interviews, though, you had seen a draft of Mathilda’s interview with him once. You could not emphasise enough how much she had to remove in order for it to be decent to be published.
You had called your friend on your way to one of the many locations of Dragon Inc., taking your sweet time.
“I am so gonna kill them. They owe me big on this one, being absent today of all days. I hate them.”
“So you managed to get an appointment with him? With Aegon?”
“Uh…. No, I didn’t, not really. I kinda hope that I would just show up and that he would be absent. This way I won’t have to do it at all!” you sighed as you climbed the stairs that led to the offices floor.
“Y/N…Vander will be mad if he realises that you delayed this on purpose.”
“Trust me, if I am not the one who does the interview, he will have no trouble sending someone else, and be a hundred percent more satisfied with them, a clear win for both of us the way I see it.”
You were on the third floor, near the CEO’s office. As you walked through the corridor, you did not see the man who had just exited the elevator, almost bumping into you. He watched you warily as you continued talking loudly over the phone, not bothered at all if you were heard. Who was that woman?
“You are not that bad at interviews… Just go in there, ask the questions and get out, easy.”
“No it’s not! I’m used to report on cultural events, not… whatever this is! Gods I really don’t want to do this, Mathilda told me awful things about him...”
The man was walking behind you at a safe distance, now amused at your ranting. From what he gathered, you were a reporter. Were you here for his brother?
“Yeah, I read the papers too… Are you there yet?”
You were now before the door on which the shining plate of “Aegon Targaryen, Communication Director” was displayed.
You sighed. “Yeah… I’m standing at the door,” you breathed out, looking at your feet, defeated. “Maybe I could just… invent an interview.” Behind you, the man silently laughed at your unprofessionalism, comfortably leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you talk to the door. He was enjoying this far too much.
“You are stalling again… It will be alright. Hang up, and call me when you’re finished.”
“I guess you’re right, I should just, rip the band aid off. Ok… Talk to you soon.”
You hanged up, nervously fidgeting with your phone and puffed. You were staring at the door, gathering the courage to knock. As seconds passed without you moving a muscle, your silent observer then decided to have a little fun. “Can I help you?”
You jumped, startled at the sudden voice so close to you. Arms crossed over his chest, a man was staring at you, the ghost of what you thought to be a smile on his lips. How long has he been there?!
“Oh god you scared me!” you gasped, clutching your hand over your chest. Then you realised how odd your behaviour must have been. “I’m so sorry I was just… umh.”
He arched a brow, waiting for your response. You cleared your throat nervously.
“I came to see Aegon, Aegon Targaryen. I’m Y/N L/N, journalist at The Westerosi.” you smiled awkwardly before extending your hand to him. He looked at you for a moment before taking your hand.
“Aemond Targaryen,” he said as you shook hands.
Of course. You had recognised him at once, a beautiful lilac eye on one side and another piercing prosthetic blue eye on the other, a chiselled jaw line, silver-haired, and so very tall. There stood Aemond Targaryen, the most mysterious of the Targaryen’s siblings. You knew him to be quite intimidating from the pictures you have seen of him, but you did not expect the effect of seeing him in the flesh would have on your body as you let go of his hand. His whole demeanour screamed power and poise. You tried to control the feeling that crept up from your neck to your stomach. You cleared your throat, his intense gaze on you. You nervously fidgeted with your phone again.
“So is he…” you pointed to the door, “Is he in there?” you asked, your voice unsure.
“Yes.”
Aemond simply crossed his arms again, watching you look at the door like if it was an insurmountable obstacle. You were clearly not a fan of his brother.
“Would you like me to knock for you perhaps?” he asked.
“No no! Thank you, I perfectly know how to knock!” you tried to joke as he raised his brow higher. “I just, uhm…”
But then an idea came to your mind. Aemond was the most secretive of his family, never giving interviews, never appearing at social events as much as the others, and he was just there. You didn’t really know if he was as vile as his brother seemed to be, but you knew that if you brought back an exclusive interview of Aemond Targaryen, your boss would be delighted, and might even overlook the fact that you had been… unable to talk to Aegon. You had to take your chance. You turned around to face him.
“Actually, do you have a moment? I am gathering information on the recent changes that occurred in your company. Would you mind answering a few questions…?”
That is an interesting turn of events.
He seemed to pounder the proposition for a moment, and you were certain that he would throw you off, that you had overstepped.
“Very well,” he stated, his face letting nothing appear as you widened your eyes in disbelief. “What do you drink?”
You were so taken aback that you forgot to speak properly.
“Dr-d-” you stammered, “What do I drink?” you repeated.
“Yes. Coffee? Tea? I can have you brought anything you want.”
This man was unsettling. You had to put yourself together. “Uh... no, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Mh.”
His eye was scanning you, and you couldn’t help but fidget on the spot, clearing your throat as you felt naked under his gaze.
“We will be more comfortable in my office. This way.”
Without a glance back at the door you had almost walked in, you followed him to another corridor, and inside a luxurious office. He sat behind his desk, tapped something on his phone and invited you to sit. You did as ordered, thanking him and taking out your pad containing the questions meant for Aegon.
You tried not to be disturbed by the unfaltering stare the second Targaryen son was giving you as you asked question after question. You had quickly rephrased some of them to be more suited for him instead of Aegon, and you thought that it was playing out quite nicely for an unintended interview.
He listened to you attentively, answering each of your questions as concisely as possible, and you could not be anything but impressed by how eloquent he was. You considered it a shame that his family did not use him more in public.
At one point, a beautiful woman that you gathered to be his assistant, entered the room, carrying a hot cup of coffee in hand. Her presence made you stop as she lowered herself to put the cup down next to Aemond, her low cleavage making you regret the fact that you had not taken off your blazer. He thanked her and as she left, her eyes looked at you from head to toe with a sufficient smile before walking her heels to the door and closing it, but not before giving the brightest smile you have ever seen to Aemond. You guessed that being this handsome and rich might have that effect.
He seemed unfazed though as he took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly. You could not help but stare at his throat as he drank the hot liquid, his Adam’s apple slightly pulsating at the movement. You were forced to clear your throat again, snapping out of your trance as he put down the cup.
“So, how would you describe your sister, Rhaenyra, in simple words? How do you see her as a member of your family and as an eminent member of your firm?”
He let your question hang in the air for quite some time, before biting the inside of his cheek and sitting back on his chair. He clearly did not like this one.
“Next question,” he deadpanned.
“I’m sorry?”
“I don’t like that question, so next please.”
You dropped down the pen that was ready to write to look at him with surprise. “You do realise that this interview is about the subdivision of the company, started by your sister.”
“Half-sister. And I understand perfectly. Please continue.”
You hold his gaze for a moment, unsure.
Very well then. “Have you ever considered, as head of the financial branch, to invest in other areas than the one you are currently involved with? Have you ever thought of sponsoring events or… celebrities for instance?”
As he answered your question, relieved that he did not seem crossed by the previous one in any way, you could not help but notice the way he licked his lips as he took another sip of coffee, his tongue slightly peaking out. At this moment, you had completely lost track of what he was saying, and by the time he had finished talking, you internally congratulated yourself for recording the interview on your phone. How very professional of you.
It seemed that your temporary distraction had you more disturbed than you thought as you saw the next question originally written for Aegon on your pad: How does the fact that you work in the same company as your wife influence you r decisions?
This was obviously not a question suited for the man sitting across from you, so you took a moment to try and adapt it to him, but it seemed that you were incapable of coherent thoughts right now.
“Are you involved with anyone?”
The question had left your lips faster than your brain could think. Not that you apparently owned a brain right now by the look of it. You cursed yourself. Big mistake.
You could see how the question had caught him off guard as you blushed and fiddled with your pad, apologising profusely at once.
“I’m so sorry, don’t mind the last one, it was meant for your brother…!” you stammered before realising that it sounded worse. You quickly found the next question, your body heating up.“Where do you see the company in ten years time?”
He had taken a bit more time to answer this one, watching how flustered you were and how your cheeks had reddened, making your skin so appealing to him that he could have sworn that he felt its warmth from this distance. Your nerves were all over the place, but it calmed down as the interview came to an end, taking control of your body again. You thanked him and stood up to shake his hand, promising him to keep him updated.
“Thank you very much for your time, M. Targaryen. I will take your secretary number and notify you when the article will be published.”
He left his place from behind his desk in order to accompany you to the door as you retrieved your coat, bringing with him the sweet scent of sandalwood and coffee. You had to get out of here.
“I look forward to reading it. When you see my brother, please tell him I said to behave.”
Oh. Aegon. It had completely escaped your mind. You undoubtedly felt like you had no obligation at all to go see him now, having obtained the interview of his quite private brother… But you could not tell him that. Instead you just nodded, hoping that he would not accompany you to his brother’s office.
“I will. Although I don’t think I will need anything more from him. I feel like I have everything I need,” you said, tapping on your pad.
“That is a relief. This way you won’t have to… invent an interview. I’m sure your skill lies elsewhere.”
You blushed at this, realising that Aemond had heard a good part of your conversation on the phone. You did not move as he stared at you quite pleased at your reaction.
“I would never… I mean, it was only a joke,” you tried. “I take my job very seriously. It’s just that I am more used to deal with people from other backgrounds.”
“Mh,” he nodded, reaching for the doorknob behind you. You exhaled in relief, the prospect of freedom one move away, but he paused again and did not open the door right away.
“By the way, the answer is no.”
You turned your head to him, almost bumping into his chest. “I’m sorry?”
“No, I am not involved with anyone at the moment.”
You tried to recall when in your life you had been as short of breath as you were now, stuck between the door and the man whose gaze made you feel like the weakest thing on earth. You tried to reply but nothing came, and as you bit your lips in anxiousness you tried not to notice how his eye had quickly lowered to the movement.
He only smirked and opened the door, stepping aside to allow you space. You swallowed as you quickly passed him, hands clutching at your coat in tension.
“Have a good day Miss L/N.”
And then he closed the door, leaving you to face the pretty assistant studying you from behind her desk, clearly annoyed at you, for whatever reason. You rapidly took the contact you needed from her and exited the building, welcoming the fresh air and grabbing your phone, calling your boss right away. Your lungs were on fire.
“Is it done?”
“Well, not exactly. I managed to have much better.” You were overselling it, but it was a miss or hit situation.
“What did you do Y/N?”
“I had obtained a meeting with the one and only Aemond Targaryen! He answered all of the questions on the subdivision, and even managed to get the intel you could not have if it had been with Aegon. This is good for us! You know he rarely gives any interviews.”
You were met with silence.
“Y/N…”
“Listen, I promise you to do the best article I have ever written on Dragon Inc. You will not be disappointed, I swear. Give me a chance Vander.”
“Y/N, how do you think Aegon Targaryen will react if he learns that he had not been consulted first?”
“Do we… really care about that, sir?” you asked, slightly appalled as you considered it.
“He is the main correspondent with our newspaper. Mathilda has always gone to him when we needed insight on Dragon Inc!”
You swallowed. This would not stop you, you had to make it work.
“All due respect sir, if you wanted that kind of interview, you should have sent her, not me. I managed to have an exclusive one and I believe in what I have gathered. You should too.”
Your boss went silent again, and as you saw this as a good sign, that we would be considering it at least, you continued.
“I will send you a draft tonight, and I’ll prove to you that this paper is worth publishing. I can assure you that Aemond’s Targaryen’s insight will raise the reader's interest much more than Aegon’s.”
Some more seconds of silence.
“Very well. I don’t like this, but I trust you Y/N, you have rarely disappointed me. I expect it before tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Then you quickly texted your friend, summarising your encounter with the one-eyed Targaryen before you jumped in a taxi and went home, reading over your notes.
Yep. Aemond Targaryen would not leave your mind any time soon.
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Your boss had been happy with the draft, and now you were at your desk, writing the actual article. You had taken your time in scolding Mathilda and Sam, blaming them for forcing you to take on a task you knew would not have you so riled up, but your friends had only sympathised with you, and you had not been able to stay mad at them for long.
By noon the article was finished, and you had to wait for tomorrow’s paper for it to be published. You had managed to progress on your other projects in the meantime, but now it was dark outside and you were the only one left in the office. Again.
The piece of paper next to your keyboard with Aemond Targaryen’s contact information, was now becoming more and more difficult to ignore as you were soon to go home. All day you had glanced at it, hesitating between sending your completed interview to him now or waiting for him to discover it with everyone else in the morning.
Taking a deep breath, you finally took the piece of paper, typed the e-mail address and attached your article to it before thinking of something personal to write.
Nothing came as you simply wrote the most formal of e-mails, giving him the time of publication and thanking him again. As you pressed send, you sat back into your chair and stared at the screen as your mind began to imagine him receiving your e-mail, how his brows would knit together while his eye would dart over the lines you had written.
Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for losing yourself in such thoughts before shutting your computer down. You needed sleep.
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Aemond Targaryen had looked your name up as soon as you had departed from his office, curious to know more about the woman who had forsaken his brother and dared ask an interview of him, Aemond Targaryen, of all people.
He stared at the screen with interest as he browsed The Westerosi ’s archives online, seeing the several articles you had written over the years, mostly about city events or local cultural activities, smiling each time he read your comments about this or that particular representation. Now he was having dinner with his family, listening to his mother’s complaints about his eldest sister again, when he felt his phone vibrate. He could not ignore the satisfaction he felt when your name appeared on the screen next to an e-mail, and wasted no time reading what you had sent him. You had done a good job, he liked that you remained factual in your writing, and he could not help the disappointment he felt when he saw the few lines you had written to thank him in your message. As he put down his phone again, he remembered how you never seemed to miss anything that happened in the city. He counted on that.
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-0- Part 2
A/N: Any resemblance to a particular book/movie was unintended, I realised it afterwards. (Oops)
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blueparadis · 7 months
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╰┈➤ ANIMAL ✦ KAEYA ALBERICH.
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⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ In the search for hauls Kaeya stumbled upon something greater, something divine that could revive him and his Khaenri'ah.
+
⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader x pirate!kaeya,non - canon divergent lore, hints of supernatural powers, subtle mention of stockholm syndrome, dub-con, ( non-consensual to consensual ) somnophilia. read the part one here ( just the back story. they are not connected but you can consider this as a sequel. both can be enjoyed as a single oneshot. ); 1,2k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |
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There has been a vague series of events that have been frequenting your mind lately. It starts with a well-built person standing at the entrance of the room, perhaps a man; His face is blurred as he walks into your room, watching you, standing near you, touching you, your face and hair— you could even hear the floorboard creaking, feel the cold of the wind from the sea chilling your skin with goosebumps and the flame in the lamp dying as the man leans towards your face. That is when your slumber disrupts and you sit up but seeing everything around you as it was in your dream does not help.
But seeing Kaeya sitting outside the room with his goblet full of wine soothes your erratic heart rate a bit. Every time you wake up from this particular bad dream, he is some where near you— either outside on the deck or inside the room busy at his study desk. Many a night he has helped you go back to sleep by telling you various stories about his homeland, about the people he knew there.
Does he never sleep? You had thought every time you had found him awake in the dead of night. Kaeya had incorporated another bed in his cabin because the one he used to sleep in is now yours. It has been like that since the day he rescued you. You do not know why he kept you so long and under such protection even though he could have killed you after using you as a tool of pleasure. 
Generally, you would get up from the bed, have a glass of water and walk up to the deck asking him to come inside, to keep you company till you fall asleep again. But tonight it is different. The door is locked and Kaeya is in his bed, at an arm's length from yours, possibly awake. You can only see his long strands of copper-blue hair, his nape, and a part of his shoulder. Everything else is buried under the quilt.
You smile to yourself thinking about the first time you opened your eyes in his cabin, lying in his bed like this and saying “Map maker, I’m a map maker” when he asked about you; that is the only thing you could remember. 
And with a bright and warm smile, he had admitted, “Great. we could use a map maker.” A unified cheer from his crew followed him and you knew from the bottom of your heart that you are safe, you are okay here.
As you get out of bed, you notice a part of your dress as well as the bed wet. It had red stains so you assumed that your month's cycle had commenced. But the next morning you came to the conclusion that it was nothing but red wine, you knew it was a little early for your red cycle. Letting out a laugh you slipped out of your dress thinking how Kaeya can be clumsy sometimes but the thread of suspicion snapped when you noticed some bruises in your inner thigh, and around your taut nipples as your dress dropped on the floor.
Your legs gave up, your body froze and your skin burnt with goosebumps. You crouched down in cold agony. A stifling sob escaped your mouth thinking of who could have done this to you. Thinking who dared to touch you against your will despite sharing rooms with the master of this ship. So that night, you planned to pretend to be asleep, waiting for the person to show up in the cold dark night. 
But fate had other plans, soon the exhaustion and dizziness due to the salty breeze took over your urge to be awake and your eyes lulled to sleep. When you were awake again, you felt something in between your legs, something wet. You felt a sting around your pussy before it was soothed with a sweet lap of the tongue. Irregular breaths and pants hit your clit as you managed to pull up your head to see the face of the culprit. 
A knife in your hand and the clustered bed sheet in the other as you opened your eyes but alas! None of that mattered anymore. His face was not blurred anymore, you could see him as clear as a day. Springing upright on the bed you looked at him with dilated pupils. It was Kaeya.
“tsk, thought you were awake tonight.” Kaeya crawled towards you, his lips and nose stained with your arousal as he stopped inches away from your face. You could smell yourself on him. 
His mouth opens ajar as his lips latch around your clothed pebbled nipples. He suckled on them while his fingers had slowly slid up your thighs. You did not feel the emotions that you thought you would feel — rage, disgust, hatred, dirty and unholy. Rather a sense of relief had washed over you knowing it was none other than Kaeya, your rescuer. 
Under the guidance of his arms, you lay down again. He grazes his nose against the column of your throat inhaling your scent, feeling your light speed heartbeats. It makes him high in adrenaline and hard for some reason. He can not let you spiral now. So, with his honey-dewed voice, he whispered, “Don’t you think you owe it to me? For saving your life? Hmmm?” before diving back in between your legs, 
“Don’t you think you owe it to me, for saving your life? ” It rings in your ear, till now when the sun has come out, and Kaeya stands in his deck busy with his morning chores. Everything else has been sedimented at the back of your mind except that question. You were up earlier than Kaeya for the first ever. The sea is awfully calm tonight while your heart is full of chaos. It took a few raw shots of vodka to gather the courage to do what you are about to do. And that was not even the worst part. 
You liked it, every bit of it, that was the worse part. To think that Kaeya wanted you in more ways than just a map maker illuminated your body with desire and hunger. So, when you are all on your fours on his bed, barely clad, and Kaeya’s quilt is on the floor you do not know if it is the seed of vengeance, gratitude, or desire that sprouted into something else, that made you kneel in front of him.
As you fidget with the strings of his trousers Kaeya wakes up due to the cold and is shocked at first seeing you in front of him like this, desperate and drunk. 
“What are you doing here?” he blurted out.
“Why?” you drawled. “I’m here to return the favor,” you muttered kissing his navel and then looking up to him.
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hootbon · 4 months
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I saw a concept on instagram by someone saying that no matter who wears it (like Jax in the art it had), it can change the emotion of whoever wears it, nice concept in my opinion (the art had Jax glitching cuz he put on the comedy mask and it was changing his emotions)
That sounds so interesting honestly (I can hear the lethal company from a MILE away)
It’s funny because I’ve thought of something similar for gangle in a way, for my au at least. She had a lot of different concepts I never figured out how to incorporate without it being ‘too much’
For instance,
We had a different idea of having gangle not be a separate ribbon mess but death grip attached to one of the mannequins at all times. And when another abstracted they’d replace the mannequin with the abstracted character until they’ve leeched off whatever was left of them..
That and they’d have their masks on the face that swapped out whenever one wanted control.. (gangle almost never got control).. I mean I wanted to keep this but but I could never get it to work if the original idea i had with that whole gimmick was that gangle dresses up the mannequin to look like a near identical replica to fool even the other members into false senses of security(such the way an actual virus works).. doesn’t work when you got a big ass mask on your face that looks suspiciously like aingle now does it💀.
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maraschinomerry · 1 year
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Hi! Ive really enjoyed your Lockwood and Co fic’s so far, especially how you incorporate gn-readers! As for a prompt to give: A George Karin X GN Reader fic where George works himself sick on researching a case and no one else really notices he’s sick other than Reader, and Reader makes him stop and takes care of him for the night. A quote to go along with this maybe: “No one ever cared about me like you.” There’s really not enough George fics out there, so thank you for rectifying that!
Chicken Soup
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Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader
Content: literally just 99% fluff, the other 1% is reader misunderstanding when George tries to confess his feelings
A/N: this fic takes me to less than 1000 words off having posted 30,000 words in 4 weeks 🤯 will have to see if I can post another later!
Word count: 2.1k
Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear
George looked tired.
He usually looked at least a little worn out, so you weren't overly surprised, but this time it was more distinctive. Plus, his exhaustion was always paradoxically frantic, brought about by rushing to prepare for a case that needed solving yesterday, but this time Lockwood had specifically said nobody was going anywhere near the site until you and George were confident there was no more research to be done. You'd hoped that would mean George would take his time, but it seemed his brain had forgotten how to function in any way that wasn't cramming 3 days' worth of research into 3 hours.
"Let's call it a day," you prompted. The two of you had been glued to your seats around a stack of papers in the Archives all day and your back was getting horrendously stiff. George couldn't be faring much better, hunched so far over his book he practically disappeared into his orange plaid shirt.
"You head back, I just need a bit longer to finish off," he replied, not even glancing up. Under normal circumstances, you'd be able to use his frustration at the impossible deadline to lure him away, but what on earth were you supposed to say when it was self-inflicted?
"Are you sure? Lockwood did say to take as long as we need, so it can wait until morning."
George looked up then, only to shake his head. You knew what he was thinking: by tomorrow, the book he needed could have been borrowed by someone else; by tomorrow, Kipps' crew could have swanned in and solved the whole case; by tomorrow, there may not be anyone at the site left to employ them. You sighed.
"Sorry, I know it's a pain. Will you be okay getting home alone?" Trust him to be worrying about you when you were worrying about him. You assured him you'd be fine, and promised to have a cup of tea ready when he got home.
"You're the best," he said with a weary smile. Secretly he didn't want you to leave, he enjoyed your company, but it was unfair to make you stay just because he wanted to. As you walked away, you heard him sniff, which built into a sneeze. Hmm.
Less than ten minutes after you returned to Portland Row, the heavens opened. Rain hammered against the front door like it was begging to be let in, and wind whistled through every corner it could find from the attic downwards. 
You, Lucy and Lockwood sat around the dining table, soaking in every ounce of the warmth that seeped from the oven while dinner cooked (a steak pie you'd made when you got back, to distract yourself from the anxious knot in your stomach).
"How did it go at the Archives?" Lucy asked over a steaming cup of coffee.
"We're making progress, but I'm worried George is overworking himself."
Lockwood gave a wry chuckle. "Trust me, if George has a limit, I haven't seen him hit it in all the time I've known him."
That wasn't overly convincing - having bursts of intense hard work followed by a couple of days to recover was one thing, but working flat out for this long was another, especially when you knew from hearing the way the house shifted that he hadn't been sleeping.
"He was sneezing when I left," you pointed out. If Lockwood knew him so well, he'd know he wasn't much of a sneezer, even in the height of pollen season.
"This case dates back decades," Lucy countered. "Imagine how much dust is on some of those files." Just thinking about it made her nose crinkle. You could only hope they were both right.
A long-cold cup of tea and the remaining quarter of the pie awaited George when he returned, the last embers of daylight being snuffed out by the heavy rainclouds above. The second the key rattled in the front door, you sprang from where you'd been falling asleep on the Thinking Cloth and clicked the kettle on.
"You didn't wait up for me, did you?" George croaked from the kitchen doorway. Something had happened to his voice in the hours since you'd left him.
"I promised you tea!" As you turned in mock outrage you noticed something else wrong. He was shivering and pale. Instinctively, you stepped closer, brushing a hand across the droplets on his shoulders and spotting more in his hair. Had he walked home in this weather? No. There wasn't enough water for that. This was just from the cab to the door. He wasn't shivering from the cold. You suddenly remembered the sneeze earlier.
George was ill.
This was a disaster, and it was all your fault. You should have forced him to come home with you. Should have noticed sooner and never let him out today in the first place.
"Oh Georgie," you murmured, almost as much to yourself as him. "Give me one minute with that tea and then you need to get to bed."
"I'm f-fine," he stammered around chattering teeth. "It's nothing."
As if he'd been summoned as backup, Lockwood sauntered in on his way to the basement. "Glad to see you missed the rain," he joked. George gave another sneeze, a spray of said rain flying from his curls with the force of it. "Bathroom's free if you want a bath to warm up." Misguided as Lockwood was in his reason for the advice, it wasn't a bad idea actually.
"I'm just heading up," you shot him a grateful look before George could object, "I can set it running." Lockwood grinned and disappeared. Today was not one of his observant days, it seemed.
"I can run my own bath," George grumbled, still in the doorway, but his cheeks flushed a little and he made no move to stop you. Probably because his hands were shaking so much he would have struggled to even turn the taps. You took his freshly brewed tea in one hand and his arm in the other and guided him to the library to cosy up until the bath was ready.
Half an hour later, you were debating whether to go and make sure George hadn't fallen asleep in the tub when he emerged. His dark curls were damp yet fluffy from the towel, a slight glow had returned to his skin and he was dressed in the clean pyjamas you'd looked out for him. He frowned at you as best his tired muscles would allow, pondering the fact you'd clearly spent the entire time sitting on the bottom step outside the bathroom. Before he could comment, however, the warmth of the bath began to wear off and the tremble returned to his bones. You reached behind you and sheepishly held out a fuzzy forest green bundle.
"I, um… I couldn't find any of your jumpers, I think they're all in the wash, so you can borrow this one. It should fit."
George took hold of it and unfolded what turned out to be the softest hoodie he'd ever felt in his life. He wriggled into it, his one working nostril breathing in the way the smell of you lingered in the fabric. It was so comfy that he found himself burrowing into it, bringing it up under his chin and tucking his hands into the sleeves.
You caught yourself staring at him, marvelling over how he could look so adorable in such an unfortunate situation, and gave him a soft smile. "Better?"
He nodded and mumbled out a "thanks" which ended up somewhat drowned in the hoodie as he shuffled away. Halfway through his bedroom door, he stopped and turned back to you. "What's that?"
You went to see what he was referring to, hands on his shoulders to support yourself as you pressed close on tiptoes to peer past him. Suddenly very aware of how close you were, you focused your attention on the flask on his bedside table.
"Oh. It's chicken soup. I wasn't sure if you'd want it just yet, so I used a flask which should keep it warm for the next few hours."
If you hadn't been aware of how much you were in George's personal space before, you certainly were now as he practically melted against you.
"That's so thoughtful." He sounded shocked. Not at you being thoughtful towards him, at anyone being so. Unsure of what to say, you gave his shoulders a supportive squeeze and then used them to steer him towards his bed.
His room was a little chilly, so you checked that his window was properly closed before drawing the curtains. George, energy almost completely drained, flopped onto the bed. You helped him tuck his legs under the duvet,  bringing it up around his chest. He sniffled again, and without a word you nudged the box of tissues you'd found and set out for him. His eyes grew wide and incredulous, suddenly scrunching shut with another bout of sneezing.
"Do you need anything else?"
The sneezing paused. "I think I left my book in the library…"
"Georgie, no." Your voice became stern even as you used his nickname affectionately. "No more research until you're feeling better." He began to protest. "Think about it. The more you rest, the sooner you'll recover and the quicker you can get back to it." He couldn't argue with logic, and you both knew it.
You ended up fetching him a glass of water, some paracetamol and a couple of contraband biscuits. When you returned, you found him sipping the soup, and his face lit up at your last offering.
"You're too nice," he sighed, insisting on splitting the first biscuit with you. "I love you."
You almost choked on your half of the biscuit, bursting into a coughing fit you'd expect from the actual ill person in the room. George immediately rose from the pillows to pat your back as you tried to remember how to breathe. "Are you okay?" His hand stopped patting as your coughing subsided but it didn't leave your back, instead rubbing gentle circles.
"I…" you spluttered, finally dislodging the rogue crumb. "Do you really mean that?"
"Of course I do! No one ever cared about me like you."
His words were kind, tender, yet your heart still sank. He'd just said it because you were looking after him. You couldn't believe you'd actually thought for a moment that he loved you. There was nothing more you wanted than for the ground to swallow you up, but when George kept talking you stayed and listened. "Lockwood and Lucy do so much for me, don't get me wrong, and my parents did their best, but I'd be lost without you. I mean, all this…" he gestured around at the flask, the hoodie, you still sitting on his bed,  "nobody else even noticed there was anything wrong. But you did. You see me, and I love you for it."
Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away, refusing to obscure your view of the beautiful boy beside you. His hand stilled on your back, twitching away, afraid he'd said the wrong thing. You leaned into his side, strengthening the touch. "I love you too."
His eyelids fluttered, a mixture of exhaustion and adoration. His free hand linked with yours. "Remind me to kiss you once I'm better."
"Why can't you kiss me now?"
"Because I'll make you ill, if I haven't already!"
"I'll take that risk." You leaned in.
"Nooo," he whined, a hand on your chest to keep you at a distance, "I'd feel bad. But lucky for you, I have a fantastic doctor, so I'll be better in no time."
"Oh yes, I hear they're exceptional and very committed. Now lie down."
George did as he was told, gasping at the rush of cold air as the duvet was lifted behind him. You eased yourself into the bed, legs tangling in his and pulling you closer until his back leant against your chest and your face was buried in his hair.
"What did I just say?!"
You shushed him. "It's fine, if I catch it you can look after me." You pressed a kiss to his temple as you reached over to click the lamp off. He groaned in the darkness.
"You're impossible."
"You love me, though."
His hand found yours again, bringing your arm to wrap round his stomach. Your fingers traced the warm, soft skin underneath the hem of your hoodie. He sighed contentedly, the rise and fall of your chest behind him lulling him closer to sleep. "I do."
You sneezed.
Damn it.
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needle-noggins · 20 days
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And because I couldn't resist, I made an entire universe for my Pirates of the Caribbean AU for Stryfewood week. I even have ideas for Legato and Knives and how to incorporate the lore of POTC with Trigun plants, etc... I may have gotten a little carried away.
Anyway, here's the main trio:
Captain Vash Saverem, the Typhoon, captain of The Geranium: Wanted in seven countries for piracy, this legendary pirate is surrounded by mystery. Some sightings of his ship with crimson sails, The Geranium, go back a hundred years, despite the captain looking no older than 25. Captain Vash is the most elusive pirate on the high seas, but everyone who has met him personally can attest to his clumsiness and stupidity. Is he blessed by pure luck, drunk, or hiding a terrifying aptitude for violence? No one really knows. There are also rumors of his connection to fish folk, but no one older than 12 believes in mermaids anyway, at least - not anymore. The world's getting smaller, the edges of the map filled in, and mankind has yet to find the old creatures of myth.
Meryl Stryfe, governor's daughter: Being the governor's daughter, Meryl grew up well-educated and well-socialized. However, when it came time for her to accept the hand of the local commodore, an unfortunate accident led to her near-drowning, saved only by the notorious Captain Vah . Meryl has since been sailing the high seas and wants desperately to clear the name of the pirate who rescued her, while hoping to return to a normal life and eventually marry a man she actually loves, not one her parents find advantageous.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood, "priest" and assassin: A preacher's apprentice from a small missionary, Wolfwood is trusted locally. However, the preacher has a long list of enemies and an unusual relationship to religion, so he's become more a trained assassin than anything. Survival is paramount, and if Wolfwood is going to spread the good word, he is going to have to fight for it, colonize and conquer. Missionaries, after all, are not protected by peace alone. He's hired by the East India Trading Company's very own Legato Bluesummers to track down a pirate who had been causing issues along trade routes. Through a series of unusual circumstances, he meets said pirate, none other than Captain Vash, and he reunites with his brother Livio. Wolfwood then finds himself in league with the mysterious Millions Knives, captain of The Flying Siren, all while trying to fulfill his duties and clear his own name after becoming associated with Captain Vash. On top of all this, he's still pining for his oldest and dearest friend, Meryl Stryfe, even if she seems to have tagged along for the sole purpose of harassing him.
closeups under the cut!
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dwellordream · 2 months
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“The impact of both new technology and the growing influx of immigrant workers can best be seen in the New England textile mills. In the 1820s and 1830s, young women from the farm country of New England went to work in the massive brick textile factories springing up along the Merrimack River near Lowell, Massachusetts, and other New England towns. In 1820, Lowell--then called Chelmsford--was a sleepy village of about 200 farm families, located about 25 miles northwest of Boston. Six years later, it had grown into a town of 2,500 and was incorporated as the town of Lowell. In 1830, the population surged to 6,000, and tripled to 18,000 just six years later. By 1850, Lowell boasted a population of 33,000.
What created this booming growth was the rise of the textile industry. Other New England mill towns also grew, but Lowell quickly became the center of the New England textile industry and drew workers--mostly single women as young as 16 or 17--from across New England. These women generally came from the middle ranks of farm families, those that were neither impoverished nor wealthy. The desire to be financially and socially independent, to finance an education, or to simply experience the pleasures of living and working in a larger town drew many young farm women to the mills. Some women did contribute their earnings to their families, but mostly they worked in the mills to earn their own income.
…Mill owners insisted that their female hands be in their boarding houses by 10 o’clock each evening, and they urged boarding house keepers, usually older women, to report any violators to the management. In the early years, women were required to attend church services regularly, and some mill owners even deducted pew rent from the women’s earnings and paid it directly to local churches. These close living and working arrangements created a camaraderie among the women workers, a community of like-minded women who eagerly wanted to improve their minds and their lives. Throughout the 1830s and 1840s, they organized and attended lectures, language classes, sewing groups, and literary ‘improvement circles’--after working a 12-hour day. From one of these circles was born the Lowell Offering, the first journal ever written by and for mill women. The journal published poetry, short stories, and commentary penned by the female workers.
Workers also organized themselves into labor-reform groups to crusade for better working conditions and shorter workdays. As technological innovations enabled women to work faster and produce more, mill owners assigned more machines to workers--without raising wages. For example, at Hamilton Company, one of the mills in Lowell, the average number of looms per weaver more than doubled between 1840 and 1854. The workload for spinners increased as well. Workers were expected to operate more machines at a faster rate. But wages remained the same--although the company reaped higher profits from the workers’ increased productivity.
…In 1846, Elias Howe introduced the first sewing machine. Five years later, in 1851, the addition of a foot treadle for easier operation made the machine an indispensable tool. But instead of easing the sewer’s burden, the sewing machine increased it. Hand sewers could no longer compete with the sewing machine. In one day, one sewing machine operator could do as much work as six hand sewers. Hand sewers were forced to buy or rent sewing machines, or work in garment factories, where they had no control over their wages or hours.
To make matters worse, seamstresses, like the mill workers of New England, were expected to work faster and produce more while working for the same wages. New technology, such as the sewing machine or improved looms, enabled consumers to buy manufactured goods at reasonable prices--but at the expense of factory workers, who were not paid a fair wage for operating this new technology.
…Despite the long hours and low wages, women still preferred working in factories to being domestic servants. At least factory workers had some free time; servants were on call 24 hours a day. Domestics worked up to 16 hours a day, with one afternoon off each week. They earned $1 to $1.25 a week plus board. Servants’ duties varied according to their employers’ requirements and the number of other servants employed in the house. But in general, the work was very demanding. Domestics devoted entire days to washing, baking, ironing and cleaning each room. They were accustomed to heavy physical work--cleaning out fireplaces or emptying chamber pots--and trudging up and down staircases several times a day.
Besides enduring the back-breaking work, servants also had to endure the snobbery of their social ‘superiors.’ During the colonial era, servants were treated as part of the family and joined in all household activities. By the mid-19th century, however, they were regarded as mere hired hands, and were viewed as an inferior class. The Boston census of 1845 categorized servants as part of the ‘unclassified residue of the population.’ No wonder that young women wanted to avoid the social stigma of being a domestic.”
- Harriet Sigerman, “‘I Never Worked So Hard’: Weavers, Stitchers, and Domestics.’” in An Unfinished Battle: American Women, 1848-1865
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dkniade · 8 months
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Eula with armour while still keeping main colour scheme and some shapes from her official outfit, but I incorporated more symbols from her character stories
Thanks to @teabreaking asking about Fontaine I was able to talk about character design! And somehow thought of Eula who’s also got the black/white/blue/gold colour scheme
Notes transcript: [In-Game Setting: Guerrilla company (Chinese version) Captain (Knights of Favonius.) Proficient fighter, irregular battles & environment (on par with Acting Grand Master) Physically strong (? claymore) proud, efficient, kind, misunderstood, individualistic / Clothing inspiration: knight armour, original design, dirndl (traditional German folk outfit)]. Design motifs: glacier-like silver shoulder guards with Glacial Seal = shouldering the burden of being a Lawrence. Knights’ crest on tie = Knights of Favonius. Anemo symbol on chest plate & subtle petal motif similar to Venti’s cape = Mondstadt. chandelier-like chain mail = aristocratic Dance of Sacrifice, Flickering Candlelight. spindrift-like hair & cape, Hydro-symbol-like swirls & teardrop on boots = Spindrift Knight (& misconception that she’d be a Hydro user, patrols near shores, bone whistle imitates sound of waves).
process sketches and initial colour scheme:
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Felt it was too dark and the lapels didn’t stand out against the armour but from afar it looks like it could be a nice suit design. At that point it felt like I was simplifying Kaeya’s design all over again, and trying to find a nice contrast without making it too cluttered was haaaard… I don’t think I’ve seriously designed any armour before this? Was trying to go for a chandelier motif for the chain mail section around her waist. I’m not sure how practical this armour would be for her type of guerrilla combat but it should be more protective compared to her official outfit…
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wordsvomit101 · 2 months
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2. Late night snack
(2 years after the death of Mr and Mrs Lee)
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It's late, almost midnight, yet here he is, cooking japchae as quietly as he can not wake everyone else in the house in front of the girl who was sitting at the kitchen table, looking wide awake for someone who should be in bed. With an impish grin on her face while she hums a pop song that he can barely recognize due to just waking up. 
Minhyeok, despite his heavy eyelids and a yawn escaping him, still with nimble fingers, sizzles fragrant sesame oil in a well-seasoned wok, the air filling with an alluring aroma that teases the senses of the girl who praised:
"Smell great as always Min"
"Why would you even want to eat at this ungodly hour anyway?" He said but his hands still deftly tossed in vibrant julienned carrots, their orange hues illuminating the wok like miniature sunbeams. The carrots dance and twirl, absorbing the warmth of the oil, their sweetness beginning to caramelize. 
Raon flashed a mischievous smile, "Oh, I just felt hungry all of a sudden. Plus, I wanted to keep you company while you cook. You know, teamwork!" 
She said as he added long, translucent glass noodles, their delicate strands resembling silken threads. They coil and soften in the hot oil, absorbing the savory flavors of the carrots. 
Minhyeok raised an eyebrow, unconvinced by her playful act. "You're rarely this hungry at midnight. What's really going on, Raon?" He glanced back at her as he stirred rhythmically, ensuring even cooking. As the noodles reach their al dente perfection, he incorporates a symphony of vegetables: crisp bell peppers, earthy mushrooms, and tender zucchini. Each ingredient contributes its unique texture and flavor, creating a harmonious balance.
Raon was quiet for a bit but tried to keep up her demeanor, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? Can't a girl not get a craving every now and then? I don't want all that effort to wake you up to go to waste, you know" she quipped, while carefully avoiding his gaze.
"You don't need to lie, not even I convinced when groggy like this"
With a deft flick of his wrist, he pours in a rich, mahogany-colored sauce made from soy sauce, garlic, and ginger. The sauce coats the noodles and vegetables, infusing them with umami-rich goodness. 
As the japchae nears completion, he sprinkles in a generous handful of toasted sesame seeds, their nutty flavor adding a final touch of complexity. He looked back at her again to see her looking at her fidgeting hands, gaze far away:
"…Maybe I just want to see you being a night owl for once, who goes to sleep at 10:30 on the dock like you?"
"Sure, sure. But really, what's on your mind? You can tell me," he pressed gently, concern evident in his voice.
When he gently lifted the japchae from the wok and arranged it on a warm serving dish, it made her look up to see his worried face. The vibrant colors and tantalizing aroma create a visual feast that beckons one to indulge. Raon hesitated for a moment, her laid-back facade crumbling. 
With a sigh, she finally said in a grumpy voice, "Your food really works its magic as always..." but continued in a quieter tone, "I had a nightmare earlier. I just... needed something to distract me from it." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, prompting Minhyeok to pull her into a comforting hug.
"Hey, it's okay. Let's have some japchae and talk about it," he offered, and Raon nodded gratefully and picked up the utensil from the kitchen counter before joining him.
Raon smiled happily as she took a bite of Minhyeok's japchae. "Wow, Min, this japchae is absolutely delicious! You really outdid yourself this time." 
With each bite, the flavors meld together harmoniously, creating a symphony of textures and tastes. The carrots provide a sweet crunch, the glass noodles a tender chewiness, and the vegetables a medley of textures. The savory sauce envelops the palate, leaving a lingering warmth that satisfies the soul.
Minhyeok chuckled modestly and looked at Raon fondly, it's a nice feeling seeing her like this, "Oh, it's nothing special, just my usual recipe. But I'm glad you like it."
They chatted about their plans for the next day, deciding to go to a new cafe that just opened in the town this weekend and go to the library the next day for their upcoming exam. Raon was trying to keep the conversation light, enjoying the normalcy of it all.
Suddenly, Raon's expression shifted, her brow furrowed slightly. "Hey, Min, about the nightmare... I saw them again but it was different this time"
Minhyeok's smile faded, concern taking its place. "Sure, what happened in your dream?"
Raon recounted the vivid images of her parents' corpses, the usual scene that plagued her for years, but this time it was different. "But this time, I saw a glimpse of a white feather, so beautiful, like nothing I've ever seen before. Along with... these slash marks all over the furniture"
Raon chewed her lips before her words poured out in rapid succession as if trying to escape the grasp of her memories. Her breaths came in short, panicked gasps, and Minhyeok could see the fear etched across her face.
As she described the tall man with pure white wings and the haunting loop of her parents' screams, Minhyeok instinctively pulled her into a hug. He held her tightly, letting her emotions wash over him as he tried to convey his support without words. Gradually, Raon's breathing began to slow, her trembling subsiding under the reassurance of his touch.
In the quiet moments that followed, Minhyeok remained by her side, giving her a moment to her thoughts to ease herself. The weight of her dream lingered in the air, heavy and unsettling, but he knew that his presence was the best he could offer her at that point. 
As the clock struck midnight, the stillness of the night was abruptly shattered by the soft voice of Raon penetrating the darkness. "Minhyeok, do you ever get tired of me?" she asked tentatively, her tone betraying a hint of vulnerability.
"It's not Min this time..."
Minhyeok, without missing a beat, responded with a reassuring "No. I'm happy you trust me enough to depend on me." His words carried a deep sincerity that only a true friend could muster.
Minhyeok understood why Raon had asked him such a question. He knew that Raon had been struggling to cope with the loss of her parents and that it had taken a toll on her daily life. His family had taken her in after the tragedy, treating her as one of their own. And he, being the one person she truly trusted, so he felt a sense of responsibility towards her well-being. It was presumptuous of him, perhaps, but he knew it was what her parents would have wanted for their beloved daughter. 
"Even if I do, you can rest easy because I would still be there. I'm your friend after all"
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letsquestjess · 6 months
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Protective Measures - Part 2 (Howzer x GN!Reader)
Summary: After an assassination attempt, you and Howzer face your feelings for each other before you must inevitably part ways.
Word count: 1.8K
Warnings: Minor details of injury. Bit of angst. Very suggestive content so there is a huge 18+ and an MDNI on this one. Just to clarify, the assassination attempt is not on Reader or Howzer.
Part 1 | Part 3
Fic Masterlist
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Two laughter-filled peals broke the stillness of the corridor and mirthful tones decorated the otherwise dull hush. 
“Truly,” you exhaled between chuckles, your shoulders settling from their amused judders. “It was the most bizarre exchange I have ever seen, but somehow, it worked. Both sides were satisfied with the trade and an alliance was formed.” 
Howzer’s teal pauldron swayed as he let out another muffled snicker. The few politicians and officers you both passed spared you disapproving glances, but he didn’t care. He would withstand every chiding stare, every scoff and derision, just to hear you laugh again. “If anybody else had told me that story, I may not have believed them,” he admitted. 
“Sometimes, I wonder whether I believe it myself, but it’s all there in the reports. Down to the finest detail.” 
Your cheeks ached from the uncontrollable laughter, and a soreness overtook your sides, but never had you experienced such a profound sense of ease. In Howzer’s company, relaxation came naturally, and you had spent numerous nights talking into the small hours. It saddened you to think that the moment the negotiations concluded, you would be shipped back to Coruscant, uncertain if your path would bring you and the charming captain together again. 
“Senator?” 
A faint jolt shivered through your chest as his voice returned you from your musing. “Sorry, did you say something?” 
“No. You seemed a bit preoccupied.” 
“I was just mulling over the discussions,” you fibbed, disguising your true thoughts as you neared the council chamber. “A lot is riding on today.” 
“You are stronger than you realise,” Howzer assured you.
“While I appreciate the sentiment, if I leave that hall with anything half-decent, it will be a miracle.” By the heavy double doors, you hesitated, thumbs kneading at your palms. You had never been this nervous about a meeting before, but this one was imperative. A single blunder, a mere slip, and all the progress you made with the other senators would topple before you could catch the falling pieces. 
“Wish me luck,” you said, hoping for a distraction to postpone the conference, even if just for a couple of hours.  
“Having witnessed the previous meetings,” Howzer replied, “I am positive you don’t need my luck. You’ll hold your own perfectly fine.” 
His certainty ignited a flicker of confidence within you and quelled some of the anxiety. “Spoil sport,” you mumbled, playfully jabbing his arm and relishing the half-smile that illuminated his face at your antics. 
“You ready?” he asked. His grip tightened on the rounded handles of the doors as he glanced back at you. 
For a brief second, his eyes softened, whispering that you would be okay, that no matter what happened, your courage had not been in vain. You briefly met his encouraging gaze and smoothed your attire. Chin up, you nodded. “As I’ll ever be.” 
* * *
Unlike the last meetings, the senators around the table remained in their seats, lacing their carefully crafted remarks with poison before they spat them out but keeping the volume to an appropriate level. Your words flowed smoothly and serenely as you expressed your ideas, responding to any queries and incorporating wise suggestions. 
Time lulled you into a sense of triumph. The advocate of the negotiations diligently removed any insults from the conversation and seasoned ego gave way to compromise. It hadn’t been a simple task, but you and a few other reasonable senators had found a solution to overcome the stubbornness of a select few and achieve your desired outcome: a successful conclusion to the discussions which would provide a stable future for all. 
“If these deals are signed today,” Senator Kel sighed, “I expect everything to be upheld within the thirty rotations promised. If they are not, all arrangements will be suspended.”
“That is a fair proposal,” the advocate said. Her golden scrutiny swept the gathering, scanning for any traces of disagreement, but the room motioned their approval. “Fantastic. Now, there is the matter of trade routes and supply points. How would we like to solve that?”
Several senators presented solutions, and ideas quickly circulated. While a few disputes arose, they were sternly put to rest and suitable options agreed upon.  
You could hardly believe it. You had convinced yourself that this meeting would be an utter disaster, with the fear that the inability to agree on these crucial matters would provoke the intervention of outside parties. But you were delighted that your anxieties had proven false. 
Shifting in your seat, your attention landed on Howzer, and a smile of relief broke across your face. With a gentle bow of his head, he returned the gesture as though to say ‘I told you it would be fine’. 
“Senator Kel, that simply would not work for the majority here,” the Lothal representative asserted. “I cannot agree to that.” 
“That is what I’m offering,” Kel replied firmly. “Your quickest route would take you into my airspace, and by the laws of my planet, a toll must be paid.” 
“Then our previous agreements will be cut.”
Just as Kel was about to sneer a remark, a bullet tore through his right shoulder and a spray of blood shot from the wound. Chaos exploded in seconds and as the injured senator tumbled, so did you.  
Your chair knocked from beneath you by Kel’s, your palms smacked onto the floor. Howzer closed in on you in a blur of motion and his protective arms held you close while you sought shelter behind the toppled, high-backed seat. 
“Are you hurt?” he asked in a frantic voice, scanning the rafters for a hint of danger, but his brothers were already climbing up to apprehend the culprit. 
“No, no, I’m okay,” you assured him, your grip tight on his armour as he lifted you to your feet. 
His hand stayed rigidly clamped around yours as you both ran. Shots erupted in the hall behind you to mingle with the frantic footsteps of the other clones guiding their designated senators to safety.
With each turn, you became more aware of Howzer’s intended destination and matched his hurried pace, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze to let him know you were still right beside him. 
Inside your apartment, he locked the doors and the windows and flung the curtains shut on the darkening evening outside. He meticulously combed every nook and cranny, his senses alert for any signs of hidden danger. Finding no threats, he returned to you in the open plan living room.  
“All clear,” he announced, holstering his gun. “Are you okay?” 
“Yes,” you replied. You hadn’t realised until that moment, but your body shuddered and your breaths came out in shallow flutters. Nothing that time wouldn’t settle.  
Your eyes locked onto his worried features as the comforting weight of his hands gently tilted your head to check for injuries, calloused thumbs caressing your jaw and the heavy rise and fall of his chest plate easing once he found no lasting harm. One hand over his and the other on his shoulder, you leaned your forehead on his. “I’m all right,” you whispered. “See. I’m right here.”
“I’m sorry.” Howzer’s voice emerged as a tired, creaking sigh. Broken. Shivering. A whole galaxy away from the captain who confidently made you laugh and shared stories about the war. He didn’t feel like the trained soldier he was supposed to be, but rather a panicked man, hopelessly grasping onto a love he knew he couldn’t have.
“I thought it was you,” he confessed, barely a touch upon the silence between you. “When your chair fell, I thought the shot had hit you.”
You hushed his fears with soothing touches and tender words of comfort. All the while he held you as though to anchor you both in that private moment. “Howzer,” you uttered like an intimate confession. His eyebrows knitted together, wrinkling his forehead, and the tip of his nose brushed your cheek. 
“Say the word and I am yours,” he breathed. Throughout his entire existence, he had been defined by his creators, told what he was, who he was. A clone. A replica. Nothing but a replaceable cog in the mighty machine that was the Republic.
But his love and loyalty for you was all his. Something he felt. Something real he could hold.  
Instead of speaking, you sealed the final few inches. His slightly dry lips beckoned you in with promise and warmth, and you surrendered to him without hesitation. 
Forbidden kisses passed between you, caresses roaming, bringing closer, nearer, pulling, teasing, until the need for breath parted you. You kept your fingers nestled in his midnight locks as your rib cage heaved, afraid to break the bliss by talking. 
With a nervous swallow, Howzer unclipped his chest plate and laid it down on the sofa. As you began helping him, his initially restricted movements blossomed into a newfound confidence, and in a whirlwind of teal and white, he stood before you in his under armour. 
“If at any point you want to stop, we stop,” he insisted, pausing inches from your lips. After receiving your explicit confirmation, he kissed you with an unbridled fervour and steered you to the bedroom.
While darkness drowned the city outside, you spent the night in a tangle of limbs and love, indulging in a slow exploration and drawing out every drop of pleasure. You bathed yourself in the devoted captain and submitted to the intoxicating fog of desire he lavished upon your body, until, perspiring and breathless, you found peace in each other’s embrace. 
* * *
The spaceport reverberated with chatter as officers hurried to escort the senators to the shuttle. Senator Kel silently climbed down from his private speeder onto the sanded stone, his injured arm supported by a sling and dark smudges circling his violet eyes. 
Walking side by side with Howzer, you wanted to slow your steps to savour those last minutes with the captain, but you drove yourself to keep pace. Sheltered within the shade of the craft waiting to take you to Coruscant, you fidgeted your thumbs. You racked your brain for a plausible excuse to prolong your visit, just for a few more days, but considering the situation, you doubted anything would convince the senate. 
“I should have known they’d call us straight back after what happened to Senator Kel,” you said. “I had hoped we’d be allowed to stay just a little longer.”
“As did I,” Howzer agreed, “but your safety is paramount.”
You could see the crestfallen ache in his eyes, swimming in the flecks of golden brown, and it took all your strength to swallow down the tears, if only to make the impending parting less painful for you both. “I will miss you, Captain Howzer,” you whispered, brushing your fingers over his for a fleeting second. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”
“It has been my honour, senator.” The captain’s hand shot up in a salute, and as he lowered it, he scanned his surroundings to confirm there were no prying eyes. “I wish I could kiss you, say goodbye properly.”
“That is something we can both look forward to when I next visit,” you told him. “With any luck, sometime soon.” This was not a goodbye, but a farewell for now, a promise you would see him again one day. At least that much, you were adamant on. 
TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added for future reader fics, 18+ only)
@skellymom @freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @multi-fan-dom-madness @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @tech-aficionado @techsriduur @dangraccoon @starrylothcat @jediknightjana
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kamisatomay018 · 6 months
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My Saviour: Final Part
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Here is the final part of this series! I’ve had so much fun writing this, and I’m so grateful for all the love and support! I hope you all enjoyed this!🫶
The gentle breeze swept past the Grand Narukami Shrine, as the wedding chimes swayed to resonate delicate melodies. The stars shone brightly, and the full moon was blessing the night sky with its magnificence. Sakura blooms were everywhere, along with flowers imported from all over Teyvat, adorning the shrine with their beauty. Fairy lights twinkled along the tree branches, candles and elemental charms added to the magical atmosphere. A grand stage was set up near the Sacred Sakura tree, and chairs were lined up in the area for those invited to the auspicious occasion. Kameras from Fontaine had been ordered specially to capture this heartfelt moment in an eternal memory for generations to witness.
Back at the Kamisato estate, the groom, Kamisato Ayato was getting ready with the help of Thoma and Kujou Kamaji, who had insisted upon helping him every step of the way for a wedding this important. Ayato looked at himself in the mirror, his amethyst eyes twinkling with happiness beyond measure. Finally, today was the day he would wed his love, and make her his wife. It felt so surreal, he finally felt true happiness after all these years since the death of his parents. Today he was so joyful, so excited and elated. Ayato was wearing a grand Hakama, woven with the finest of silk and real gold threads. “My lord, it’s about time we head to the shrine, the guests have all almost arrived.” He heard Thoma say, snapping him out of his trance. He smiles wide, nodding as excitement fills his heart. “Yes, let us head to the Grand Narukami Shrine.”
Inside Yae Miko’s personal residence in the Shrine, you were getting ready with the help of Ayaka, Chisato, Miko and Ei. Ever since the day had begun, the smile on your face had not once faltered. And now, as you watched yourself get adorned with jewels of all kind, your heart fluttered uncontrollably. Today was the day you’d finally become Kamisato Y/N, and become one with your beloved. To say that you were looking ethereal would be an understatement. Upon your request, you had designed your kimono yourself, incorporating within it some precious symbols for your love. Amethyst and blue threads were used over a shining white cloth, along with gold threads used for your sleeves. You wore jewels made of precious stones from all the seven nations of Teyvat, yet they could not outshine your beauty. You let your natural long hair flow freely down your back, only pinned from the front with a few loose strands falling delicately on your face.
“Oh my, I must say, that Yashiro rascal surely struck gold with you. Look at you, such a beautiful girl. Are you sure you still want to marry him hm?” Miko’s sly voice teased you, making you laugh while the others let out an exasperated sigh. “Miko!” Ei spoke, surprised by those words. “Oh hush Ei, you need to take jokes! So yes my dear, my question still stands.” You giggled again, looking at the women in your company. “Yes, I definitely want to marry him. I cannot imagine being anyone else’s wife.” Ayaka smiles so much at your words, coming to give you a big hug. “Im sure brother is going to cry once he sees you! You look stunning!!” You smiled shyly, holding her hands. “Thank you Ayaka, after all the credit for my look goes to all of you! And soon, another wedding will be held~” Seeing the way Ayaka’s face flushed, her cheeks turning pink made your smile brighten. A few days ago, Thoma and Ayaka had admitted to both you and Ayato about their love. The way Thoma had seemed so nervous and scared had made both you and Ayato laugh, since you already were aware of the fact that they loved each other. Ayato readily gave his permission and his blessings to the two of them, and Thoma had then courted Ayaka. Ever since then, their love had only blossomed more with each passing day.
A knock interrupted the joyful conversation, as a shrine maiden’s voice spoke. “Lady Guuji, the groom and his men have arrived, and so have all the guests. The ceremony can start, all the preparations have been done.” Your heartbeat accelerated, as excitement and nervousness overpowered your senses. Oh archons, it was finally happening! “Well then, it is time Miko and I go outside. We will be awaiting your arrival.” Ei spoke, and you watched the two of them leave to start with the ceremony. “Oh my archons, I cannot believe it’s finally time..” you spoke, feeling all sorts of emotions in your heart. Ayaka squeezed your hand reassuringly, her joy being evident. “Oh don’t you worry about a single thing, everything will be absolutely perfect!”
Everyone stood up in respect as the Electro Archon and Guuji Yae entered the place, standing near the Sacred Sakura tree, where Ayato stood. He bowed deeply in respect, somehow retaining his calm composure despite how nervous and emotional he felt at the moment. “You all may take your seats. Today, we will observe the union of two souls who love each other wholly, whose love will be eternal. Today is a joyous occasion, and with my blessings, let the marriage between the Yashiro Commissioner, Kamisato Ayato and Hiragi Y/N commence!” The Shogun spoke, making everyone clap. Miko smiled, summoning her powers to make the shrine glow even more. “Well then, shall we request the bride to come out?” Ayato’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately casted his eyes towards the entrance, wishing to see you.
At that very moment, you stepped outside, with Ayaka behind you, walking slowly towards the altar. Ayato gasped softly, his eyes welling up with crystal like tears. Oh archons, you looked so beautiful, so perfect, so..oh he did not have words anymore. No language could describe your beauty, and he felt himself falling deeper in love with you all over again. Time stood still for him, everyone else disappeared into nothingness as his eyes were stuck only on you. His beloved, his pride and joy, his soon to be wife. He did not care if anyone else saw him cry, because right now he had no control over his emotions. He had the biggest smile ever while tears fell from his lavender eyes, and even his tears shined like diamonds under the moonlight.
As you reached closer to Ayato, you finally looked up at him, and you swore to the celestial gods above, that your heart truly stopped for a moment. He looked so handsome, so ethereal, so elegant. But what made you truly fall in love even more was the way his eyes shone with emotion, tears falling freely while his soft lips were curved into perhaps the biggest smile you had ever seen. You knew people were looking at him, kameras were capturing every moment but he did not shy away from showing his vulnerability and his emotions when you were here. You blushed, smiling as you held the hand he had extended for you, finally taking your rightful place beside him.
“My love, you look so beautiful…words cannot describe how much I adore you..” his deep voice whispered softly into your ears, making you smile even more. “I do not need words my love, your eyes are more than enough to express your every emotion.” Ayato held onto your hand with so much love, never wanting to let go. Ayaka stood beside Thoma, tears in her eyes while he comforted her, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. This day was truly so joyful.
Yae Miko performed the rituals and prayers for the two of you, as you both seemed blessings from the Shogun, bowing deeply in front of her. She placed her hands on both your heads, her voice being soft for you two. “You both have my blessings. May your love be eternal, and fight through all the difficulties that life may present to you both. I give you strength to overcome everything, and hope that your lives will be filled with love and happiness with each other by your side.” You thanked her, and then stood in front of Ayato, holding his hands. It was now time for your vows, and as per custom, it was Ayato’s turn to speak first.
“Y/N, your love gives me hope for a beautiful life, your smile gives me joy…You make me a better man, you see my flaws, you accept them and you love them..you make me happy, you make me feel safe enough to trust you with my life. My life is forever entangled with yours from this day on. I promise to be there to catch you if you should stumble, carry you over every threshold, and fall in love with you every day…my dreams are your dreams, and I’ll build them all around you. Y/N, I love you with all my heart and I vow to love you, and only you all my life. I take you to be my wife, to be my better half for eternity.”
This time, tears flowed down your eyes, as his words filled your heart with so much joy. Seeing as it was your turn, you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes with so much love, speaking each word with utmost sincerity and love.
“Ayato..being with you, having you as my life partner is the biggest honour..every single day when I wake up next to you, I thank destiny for having given me a man as precious as you. My love for you knows no bounds, and I’d do anything to see you smile, to keep you happy. I promise to always love you, to always support you..I will stand by your side regardless of anything, I will hold your hand and guide you out of the darkness just the way you did for me a year ago..you are my first and last love, the only man I will ever love for every life I will ever live. You are my love, my hope, my inspiration, my pride and my honour. I vow to love you forever. I take you to be my husband, to be my better half for eternity..”
Ayato’s eyes welled with tears all over again, as he held onto your hands tighter. Archons, how was it possible for someone to love him so much? He never knew that one day, he’d find a love like this. Even Miko got slightly emotional because of your vows, as she now spoke softly. “Then I hereby declare you both as Man And Wife. From this day forth, you both shall be known as Kamisato ayato and Kamisato Y/N. Ayato, you may kiss your bride.”
Ayato now grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you closer, kissing you ever so passionately. At that very moment, fireworks erupted into the sky, which were custom made by Naganahora fireworks. You relished the feeling of Ayato’s lips against yours, as your love grew stronger than ever. The Sacred Sakura shed its petals on you both, and your visions glowed together, your elemental powers merging together to create a beautiful shield around you both. Ayato pulled apart, and you swore you had never seen his amethyst eyes shine as bright as they were right now. He hugged you tightly, and you could feel his heart beating against your ears.
“I love you so much Daarin, my beautiful wife..”
“I love you too Ayato, My Saviour..”
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traffic-light-eyes · 11 months
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Imagine, after everything is said and done. No more darkness, no more evil-doers, no more overlord. Just peace.
What would the Ninja do next?
Nya would go into techs. Maybe she'd intern or shadow Borg tech, and she'd work there. That's a possibility, but after she learned all she could, she would definitely make her own tech company. She'd be less phone and game tech and more automobile innovations. Maybe she created a new, super-speedy express train. I wouldn't put it past her to invent something akin to teleportation, somehow. That might be far, far into her future. Seeing as her job mostly consists of things that can not touch water, she'd most likely spend some of her time near creeks or waterfalls, just meditating and connecting with her element. Eventually, she might get bored of that and make her tech completely water resistant. Everything. I'll talk about Jay in his section.
Kai might try to become a martial arts teacher again, but he would eventually become less enthusiastic about it due to the many, many kids he had to deal with. Then, he tried to pick up blacksmithing again. He created a nice little shop back in Ignacia, looking almost exactly like his parents'. Years down the line, the ninja + Pixal, Skylor, etc. have a get-together/reunion. Kai and Skylor reignite their spark, and they try long-distance. It got stressful, so Kai decided to drop everything and move near Skylor. He worked odd-jobs and lived in a glorified shack just to be able to go out with her. Skylor offered him a job at the noodle house, and he accepted. Sadly, the noodle house closed down due to a lack of workers - even though Skylor, Kai, and maybe 2 other people put their all into it. It was sad at first, but they decided to make the most of it. Together, they wanted to create a new restaurant - a mixture of Chen's noodles and Kai's family heritage & recipes. They just couldn't figure out the name. What could incorporate both Skylor Chen and Kai Smith? Kai quickly came up with the perfect solution. On a beautiful night out, while Kai walked Skylor back home after a dinner date, they stopped on a bridge to look at the night sky. Kai got down on one knee and proposed to the love of his life. They married and could finally start their restaurant - The Smiths'. It was a hit, and they lived happily every day happily.
Zane left together with Pixal to explore the world. They went place to place, experiencing everything together. They did not marry - not for lack of love, but because they felt their love was so much more to them than some silly social construct. I mean, they are going to live forever, as long as they have the proper maintenance. So, they don't think that they need to marry. Even while traveling, they always make sure to come back for everyone's birthday and for holidays. They bring gifts and recipes and knowledge with them. Once they felt they experienced it all, they returned to Ninjago City and worked with Nya. Well, they didn't really work for her. They just popped up one day, and Nya saw them building in her lab. She let them, and they ended up making an awesome hologram for entertainment. They didn't sell it, but every one in a while, the ninja cuddled up again and watched an almost life-like rendition of a Fritz donnegan movie. Pixal and Zane also decided that they wanted children, eventually. So, they made them. They put parts of themselves into the child and even mixed up their own technical make-up to make their kids: Chip and Mackayla, or Mac.
Lloyd kept training the new Elemental Masters, as he felt it was his duty. He really wanted to be like his uncle and train the next generation to make sure they were good people. He didn't expect his deciples to fight off anything major because his team defeated it, but he still wanted them to know how to fight/good vs bad just in case something terrible happens after he and the rest of the ninja weren't around to help. His students became wonderful and helpful individuals, which is far more than he could ever ask for. Aside from training, he started studying and researching. He grew up in dangerous situations, so it's very difficult for him to sit still and not try to be ready for the supposed next attack. His students and his friends keep him in check, and thankfully, nothing comes to pass. He didn't end up dating anyone, not for lack of desire. He just felt in his bones that he would live a long, long life and didn't want to hurt himself by falling in love. He envies Zane and Pixal a bit because of this, but he'd never say that (they know. They feel terrible but can't do anything about it). They visit a lot, especially after the other ninja pass on. Eventually, a while after they make their kids, they make Lloyd a companion - a friend who can stay forever. He cried when he received the gift. He trains many generations of ninjas and sometimes even uncovers a new way to use the elemental powers or spinjitzu. With each new generation, his students get stronger. He lives a happy, fulfilled life.
Jay and Nya get married immediately. Their celebration of being done with evil was their happy, happy marriage. Everyone was overjoyed with them, and you could even see a misty-eyed Kai if you looked hard enough (it's just allergies, guys, I'm not crying. It's allergies. It's the pollen, I swear). After that, he started working on tech again with Nya. He loves it, but he started to get burnt out. He remembers his time on stage, being the center of attention in both real life and in Prime Empire. He makes a gameshow. It was something silly, at first. Like a "how well do you know the ninja" trivia game. It was super fun and he kept getting asked by producers and directors to host more and more gameshows. He became the Steve Harvey of Ninjago; everyone knew him, everyone watched him. When he openly stated that he was starting to get bored of the trivia-types of stuff, he was asked to act in movies and to host in wipe-out shows because of his expertise in agility. Eventually, when he and Nya decided it was time to have kids, he became the best stay-at-home dad anyone could ask for. He loved it. Sure, he got antsy because of the inactivity, but be quickly cured that by just playing with the kids. They ended up being incredibly sporty because of this.
Cole went to art school, even if he was older than most. He went to art school and became one of the best goddamned artists there are out there. He traveled with Pixal and Zane for a hot sec and made it a point to paint from atop every single mountaintop they reached. His artwork is displayed in many museums. One time, a little kid walked up to him and asked him to teach her how to be a good artist. So, he did. After asking her parents, of course (they were very, very starstruck when their daughter came home one day with Cole FUCKING Brookstone, the famous artist, the black ninja, one of the saviors of ninjago). She became like a daughter to him, and was even allowed to travel places with him. She became a wonderful artist under his tutelage, and gained a lot of recognition for just training under him. He realized he had a passion for teaching, and his young student (with a lot of persistence) got him to start his own little art school. He made sure not to broadcast his name or face on the building, because he didn't want people to come just because he was who he was. It became very, very successful and a lot of people have a superstition that being in Cole's presence gives you the ability to draw/paint. This is only mildly true (due to his insane ability to teach), but the Ninja make sure tease him about it. (Kai joined a class one day just to mess with him and was very surprised when he ended up leaving the building with a beautiful, realistic portrait of Skylor. They hung it on their wall and they're still baffled on how it happened.)
Welp. There you go. Here's what I came up with
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