#public affairs office in the sky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daze4all · 2 months

Text

Subordinate! Reader x Yandere! Boss! HSR Penacony Version

Prompt: You are just so kind your boss cannot stop staring at you and wants to be more…than just coworkers…don’t worry about work they’ll take care of you

Featuring:

1. Stalker! Jing Yuan: A Work Affair- Jing Yuan knows two cannot just be coworkers after that affair…

2. Masochist! Aventurine : Preserve the Deal. IPC Aventurine makes sure Readers Debts be Paid .TBA

3. Sadist! Sunday : Serve Up Your Dreams -A special dream Stowaway is dealt with differently by Sunday…. TBA

Stalker!Boss!Jing Yuan x Reader. Workplace Romance: A Work Affair

Prompt: You were both players playing the game of love, but Jing Yuan wants to make this secret workplace affair serious… Jing Yuan is not the type to end it at a fling

It was one time a fling you had decided after maybe one too sleepless night working overtime.

He was a handsome man, and you were oh so helpful staying to help him.

He was good boss, so what if you let him sneak naps before rushing him off to his next meeting, or proffered coffee and treats to remind him during breaktime leading to chit chat.

It wasn’t supposed to lead to him railing you on the desk after hours. Or a secret quickie in a closet when the rest were at lunch. A one-time fling. No two… three…you honestly lost count

Eyes wandered hands touched and led to where they shouldn’t be much to easily after the first time when no one was looking.

A stress relief that was addictive as he was so good with tongue, hands, lips everything…leaving you, flushed and panting for more pleasure.

Still, it was secret.

So why did you hear so much gossip?

Perhaps you were too rushed to cover up a fumbled touch with hands.

A stutter here or there when alluded or questioned your close relationship with Jing Yuan.

Was it your behavior? Perhaps but most likely it was also his…his meaningful smiles or his lingering touches when you pass him a pen.

Still, someone slipped that you were sleeping with Jing Yuan but who?

Why… the boss himself. He made it all too obvious.

“Don’t let the rumor spread …what about our reputation …” you confront him alone in his offuve hushed whisper after hours the sun dipping in the sky .

“oh what rumors? That you are in my office every night? That you scream-?“

“It’s just to let off some steam. don’t try to make it a anything more than ah .” you were silenced by his mouth to your throat finding the pulse sucking it to silence you with a moan.

“A fling hmm I’m sorry dear but I must have dozed off when we discussed this when it comes to you. I’m always serious” his breath ghosting his neck a chuckle as he pulls away with A lick to his lips eyes dark and predatory admiring his mark on you dainty neck.

“I never agreed this… You….you spread the rumors” You pull the collar pf your shirt closed protectively as yourmind clicks in shock. as you stood frozen as he hugged you from behind head on shoulder while admiring his artwork of love bites peppering the skin.

“Exactly” he purrs nuzzling closer “so stay for some overtime I promise I’ll treat you worth your while…” he insinuates not that you have a choice pinned under his weight in empty office.

---

Keep pushing and he’ll let you go reluctantly with such big kicked puppy dog eyes trying guilt you into staying.

However ever the gracious gentleman he recomposes himself catching up with you in the hallway you snap your arm away, but he gently but firmly grasped your forearm to keep you from leaving.

Others stare, the rumored employee having an affair with the general abound…

“There is no need to cause a fuss in public. Let us get dinner, shall we? I’ll treat as apology for your troubles.”

Yandere! General! Jing Yuan says with a genial smile masking the darkening of his golden eyes promising much more.

However, the staff saw the friendly dozing general surely meaning no harm.

A sweet gesture, a cherished prize, a fool would not deny an offer of dinner with the general.

He smiles serenely as he arranges your hair and coat from the hanger to cover you up smoothly lingering to tease your neck. He waits by the buildings exit. No escape. He obviously wants to turn this affair into a date…

With eyes on you and the giggles of your coworkers in the background how can you refuse?

Of course, you could deny and slip away…whisper and golden eyes following you but-

No worries the cat and his prey can always play another workday~

Or you could just quit lol.

But Yandere! General Jing Yuan will catch you he is a general of Xianzhou of the hunt after all …nowhere in the galaxy you can hid for long.

The irony if you stay satiate his needs in the office it could be just another affair but agree to go out it cements in people’s minds you are the couple he always wanted you to be…your just a little hard to convince and embarrassed that’s all!

Either way, he wins.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail #male yandere x reader #yandere imagines #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan #jing yuan smut

213 notes · View notes

bloompompom · 4 months

Text

ceo alpha!eren x omega!reader because why not

content: ~1.7k word count oops. fem!reader, omegaverse and related themes (heat/rut, slick, knotting, pheromones, etc), breeding, mentions of semi-public sex, somnophilia, pet names, spitting, dirty talk, rough sex, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised 18+ only

Alpha!Eren who would have you join him at work, only on his most strenuous days. The days when the hands of the clock must have been dipped in molasses, and the minutes ticked by more like hours. Days drawn out by meeting after meeting, each somehow more pointless than the last. And God forbid anyone try to make a decision without his input for once in their pathetic lives.

You would trot your way up to his office, skipping past the cute little cubicles that looked pitiful in comparison to your closet, with one purpose and one purpose only.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the reason for your visits. A thin door could never suppress your heady pheromones; they billowed from the gap beneath it. But no one ever batted an eye. They never questioned it when they wouldn't see you again until evening, toted out beneath their boss's arm, slightly disheveled as you clung to him with a dainty hand wrapped around the bend in his elbow. You'd reek of Eren, having been scent-marked by him until the fumes were as choke-worthy as smoke. No one dared to take a second look. Smug bastard or not, his employees were smart enough to not interfere with his more personal affairs.

Alpha!Eren whose scent was always more alluring when vexed. It was an authoritative, commanding scent. Not a twinge at the tip of your nose but as robust as a deep breath of air and just as weighty at the bottom of your lungs. Mint as fresh as if you had tossed the leaf straight into your mouth and ground it with your molars, warmed by the intoxicating scent of stiff rum. It sedated you into this delirious and euphoric little thing. Utterly passive, like the good omega you were. You'd spend the workday at his side—and on his lap and beneath him and on top of him. Wherever he wanted you, you were always more than eager to oblige.

You perched all pretty atop his lap was his favorite, especially when you would straddle his thigh. You'd roll your hips against the ungiving muscle until he'd decidedly flip you around, cowgirl, and bounce you on his cock. It only took one hand to send an email.

But most of the time, between getting yourself off (when allowed) and getting Eren off, you'd spend the afternoon curled up under his desk in adoration, a touch-starved kitten mewling at his feet. He was such a busy man, after all. You'd nuzzle against the tightening crotch of his pants, waiting with a watering mouth for permission to remove them. Only then would you work off his belt and unzip his slacks to lap at his cock through his boxers. He'd use your mouth as his toy, and if you made a mess, you were always sure to lick it clean before it could stain.

Alpha!Eren who, upon meeting you, knew he could never go without you again. Never in his life had he experienced such a feeling. One he could only describe as a lightning strike, not from the sky but from blooming from some deep, primal part of him. Some inborn urge to impress you, to court and provide for you—to have you. You were halfway his already, undeniably so as your scent would flare every time he leaned into you. A delectable aroma of blackberries, their tartness lulled by sugared maple, swirling around him in a pacifying mist. What a wonderful cocktail the two of you would create.

Alpha!Eren who, at best, was described as insolent and, at worst, labeled an asshole, was anything but when it came to you. Any request was yours so long as you softened him up, which never took much. It made him happy to see you giggly and bounding around, so why wouldn't he go and give you whatever you pleased? He more than had the means to, and you more than deserved it. You were his mate, his perfect one at that. Truly, you must have been put on this planet just for him, so he might as well gift you the world in return.

Which was the very reason why he already knew the answer to your next request the moment he walked through the front door.

Eren was running late that night, returning home well past dark to find the couch cushions in disarray. Before he could even pull the breath to call for you, it hitched in his throat.

You were in heat. It'd been a while since that happened.

Your pheromones were tenfold thanks to it, this sharp and thickly sweet scent he could practically taste on the back of his tongue.

Work had occupied more of his week than he would have liked, but even so, he should have seen this coming. Just last night, you were restless in your sleep, wiggling and murmuring to yourself. He checked to see if you were awake only to discover how invitingly warm, how soft, you felt beneath his palm. He was hard instantly, bringing him to snake an arm around you, holding you there to fuck his cock between your slick thighs. Of course, he was too far gone at that point to question it.

You emerged from the bedroom with pillows stuffed beneath your arms, wearing one of his shirts—not a fresh one, but one you had undoubtedly dug out from the bottom of the hamper. Your figure was blurred by the oversized tee, but that didn't stop his fantasies from running rampant.

Eren watched you keenly as you added the pillows to the growing pile in front of the fireplace. You bent over to fluff, and he could plainly see how soaked your panties were. He asked you then if you had stopped taking your heat blockers.

The bashful face you made at him said enough. And when you admitted you did it because you wanted to get pregnant, Eren couldn't hide how his breathing went uneven.

He approached you, dipping his chin and taking yours between two fingers. He angled you to meet his eye and tried his best to keep his expression doting, docile, but it was near-impossible with the way you stared back at him. Your eyes were still alert, pupils blown and flickering across his face, but the rest of you looked softer, somehow. Your lips were poutier, begging to be bitten, and you had this dreamy look on your face.

"My pretty girl," Eren whispered, a low growl lurking beneath his words.

You melted into his grasp, his mesmeric pheromones coiling around you, sedating you. It was euphoric, to finally bask in your alpha's presence after a day spent alone, but it wasn't enough. Every part of your body pulsed hotly in response to his touch, waiting for him to finally have you.

And he would. Fuck, he was aching to. He needed you so terribly he couldn't be upset that you stopped taking your blockers without warning, even if it meant triggering his own rut.

Oh, well. He figured he could use a few days away from the office.

Eren swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

"You want me to give you a baby?" His fingers traced down the front of your throat, skimming lower until they were between your legs. He pushed your underwear aside, cupping a hand over you in ownership. "Breed this perfect pussy?"

You bobbled your head in a nod, clenching your thighs around his hand in hopes he'd do something more than teasingly play with your slick for his own enjoyment.

"Whatever you want," Eren pecked the tip of your nose, and you knew it was the gentlest he planned on being with you, "it's yours."

Alpha!Eren whose strength didn't falter as he scooped you into his arms and whisked you off to bed. Legs spread with him in between, you locked your ankles against the small of his back. You pressed your body to his, hopelessly grinding your clothed pussy against his stomach on instinct, searching for any sort of release as you made a mess of his button-down.

There you were, splayed across the bed, panting, and he hadn't even touched you yet, not the way you needed him to. He appraised the sight below him, from the beads of sweat decorating your hairline to your legs wilted to either side, with this unyielding sort of look on his face, the look of hunger.

Eren thoughtlessly tore at your underwear, kissing and sucking and biting along your thighs until he closed his mouth over your pussy. It didn't take long for him to lick you to your first orgasm. You were more sensitive in this state, so submissive and dedicated, just as your omega nature intended.

The waves of your orgasm paled and swelled, leaving you in a rose-colored haze as Eren sat upright.

"How sweet you are. Let me give you a taste."

Before he could grab ahold of your face and open your mouth for you, you beat him to it. You let your jaw fall slack, your tongue lolling out to eagerly accept the string of saliva connecting you to him before he kissed it into your mouth.

What little restraint he had was clouded by your heavenly scent, cloying at his every sense. He hastily undid his belt, then the button and zipper to his pants, but his darkened eyes never left you.

You took his pink-tinged cheeks between your hands, purring, "I'm here," as you peppered open-mouthed kisses along the feverish skin of his neck.

You moved to present yourself to your alpha, but he flipped you onto your hands and knees instead. He kicked apart your legs and thrusted inside you heedlessly, like a beast freed from his leash.

You whined, tangled somewhere in the knot where pain met pleasure, as you pushed back against him.

"I know, baby. I know," he said—not consoled, because there wasn't an ounce of reassurance behind it.

Alpha!Eren who bit your name into the back of your neck, on the bonding scar behind your ear. Who knotted you in prone bone because your arms and legs were too shaky by the time he was finished with you.

He consumed you, every part of you. He bathed you in feel-good pheromones, his weight pinning your sweat-sheened body to the bed. He nuzzled against the side of your face, kissing your cheek as he asked if you were okay.

You were, your body was made for this. And once you were no longer locked together, you knew you'd be ready for another round. There was no chance Eren wouldn't knock you up this heat because whatever you wanted, it was yours.

#cw omegaverse #alpha!eren #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #divider by @/saradika-graphics

264 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Enemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Master List Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 1: The Election

The news of Bradley's heroism spread like wildfire across the media outlets, causing him and Jake to sky rocket in the polls.

Two weeks later, it was Election Day. You were up bright and early, putting the finishing touches on his victory speech. You didn't prepare one if he lost, that wasn't going to happen.

You'd been keeping track, and with all the early votes counted, Bradley had a slight lead. You watched results come in all morning.

At 9:30, you, Bradley, Jake, and the rest of the campaign staff went to the polls to vote. You were buzzing as you clicked the box next to his name.

You'd been busy all morning fielding phone calls, sending emails, and answering questions. The only thing keeping you going was iced coffee and sheer adrenaline.

It was approaching 1pm, and Bradley noticed he hadn't seen you eat anything all day. He came over to your desk with a sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Can't have my main girl passing out on me." He said as he placed them on your desk.

You rolled your eyes but thanked him before shoveling down your food.

When the polls closed at six on the East Coast, Bradley and Jake's lead had increased. The three of you sat with baited breath as one by one, the news outlets from across the nation announce the official closing of the polls. Once the West Coast polls had closed, you still had another three hours to wait until Hawaii and Alaska closed, but you knew the six total electoral votes they held wouldn't matter. Especially when California declared their winner.

Bradley and Jake were sitting comfortably at 238, either projected or confirmed electoral votes. Even if, by some chance, they didn't win California, their opponents wouldn't have enough to overtake them to win.

It's exactly 2:13 in the morning D.C. time when the official announcement is made.

The office was quiet. You'd sent everyone home for the night. You, Bradley, and Jake had stayed huddled in your office. Jake had just stepped to the bathroom when the news came through.

Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw was the president-elect and will be the 47th president of the United States. He had done it. You had done it.

You and Bradley jumped up and down, screaming your heads off like a bunch of kids. You went to hug him, but in a moment, that caught you off guard. He grabbed your face and kissed you.

You both froze as he pulled away. "I—uh— sorry—" He stuttered.

"It's fine. We just got caught up in the excitement. No harm, no foul." You brushed it off. "We can pretend it didn't happen. No worries." You smiled at him.

You turned away to watch the announcement again and to answer your phone. Your mom was calling you to congratulate you. You missed the flash of hurt that crossed his face.

"I heard the yelling from down the hall! Did we do it? Did we win?" Jake bursts into the room out of breath from running.

"Yeah, man, we did." Bradley tells him in a sullen voice.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" Jake asks, looking between you on your phone and Bradley.

"No, I'm just—" Bradley shakes his head. He doesn't know what to say.

"Rooster, you're going to be the fucking president! Smile! Scream! Cheer! Call Maverick and the gang while I get the bubbly!" Jake shakes him before heading to the kitchen. "We won the fucking White House!" Jake cheers as he heads down the hall.

.......................

After the election, you stepped into your roll of Cheif of Staff seamlessly. You made sure everything was ready for inauguration day, which was finally here.

An unexpected perk of your new position was the clothes that came with it. With you being in the public eye, fashion brands were reaching out to send you clothes all the time. It came in handy for days like today.

For Bradley's inauguration, you were wearing an Alexander McQueen coat dress in a lavender shade. It had an asymmetrical skirt and pearl button details. You'd paired it with a nude pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, pearl earrings, and a set of simple layered silver necklaces. You'd taken care to make sure Jake and Bradley coordinated with you. Purple had been a theme during their campaign, and you planned to continue that during their term.

You were waiting with Bradley, Jake, and a few other officials when a member of the inaugural planning team came up to the three of you.

"Excuse me, Ms. Wiseman, Mr. Bradshaw, Mr. Seresin. We seem to have a problem." He spoke.

"What? Is there a security threat?" You asked, ready to take action if needed.

"No, ma'am, a logistical issue. We have no one to hold the Bible." He clarified.

"What?" Bradley furrowed his brows. You sighed. How could you have forgotten that.

He looks at you for clarification as you explain, "Traditionally, the First Lady holds the Bible or sacred text that the new president gets sworn in upon. But you don't have a First Lady. So I guess we could get—"

"You're going to hold it for me." Bradley states, cutting you off before you can say anything else.

"Excuse me?" You look at him baffled.

"I said you're going to hold it for me." He crosses his arms over his chest in a matter of fact way.

"Why? Because I'm the highest ranking member of your team or because I'm a woman who needs to fill a specific gender role?" You shoot back at him.

"Because I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. You made this possible." He tells you. Your gaze softens, and you relax your shoulders.

"Fine." You sigh. You don't have the time to argue with him.

..............

You can't hear the crowd over the rush of blood in your ears. You're standing on the steps of the Capital Building, Bible in hand, just as Bradley is about to be sworn in. He places his hand on the cover, and you give him a smile as he repeats the oath of office.

Cameras click and flash, and it takes everything in your power not to jump up and down as soon as the Cheif Justice shakes his hand and says "Congratulations Mr. President."

It was real. It had happened. You had done it. You let out a sigh that you had been holding in for over a year as you put on a picture-perfect smile for the camera before getting ready for the inaugural parade.

..................

After the parade, your things have been moved into your room in the White House. You'd been given the Queen's Room. You rolled your eyes when you heard that was where you would be living, but you were thankful to have your own tucked away area to yourself.

You were finishing getting ready for the inaugural ball. You'd traded out your lavender suit for a deep burgundy, off the shoulder ballgown. It had a tasteful slit, and most importantly, pockets for you to keep your phone and other necessities in with out having to worry about a purse.

Your hair was swept up in a low bun. You'd paired the outfit with delicate diamond earrings and a diamond tennis bracelet. You worn classy makeup, but a red lip, the same shade of your dress, adorned your face.

You had just fixed your earpiece to make sure it was out of sight when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You called out as you fiddled with an earring in the mirror.

"Hey, I—wow." Bradley stepped in. He paused to take in your appearance. Sure he'd seen you dressed up before, but nothing like this.

"You look beautiful." He told you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you." You smiled at him. He had come in here for a reason, but now he couldn't remember what it was. Every thought in his brain went away the the moment your red lips quirked up into a smile.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. President?" You goaded him.

"Oh—urm—my tie." He gestured to it. "You always tie my tie." He looked at you sheepishly.

You let out a breathy laugh before striding across the room to help him.

Your perfectly manicured fingernails made quick work of his tie. "It's black this time." He remarked.

"Thought a black bow tie would go nicely with your tuxedo." You tell him. "And you're wearing red. What happened to the purple?" He joked with you.

"I'm wearing burgundy, which is a purple based red." You shoot back, cutting your eyes to look up at him. "Plus, you're official now. We can change it up some. Alright, all done. You look good, Mr. President." You pat his chest and step back.

He catches your wrist before you can walk away. "Wait! I have something for you. A thank you gift." He says.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a long velvet box. He opens in. Inside is a beautiful, oval diamond pendant on a thin silver chain.

"Bradley!" You breathe out. "It's beautiful, but it's too much. I can't accept it." You tell him.

"You can, and you will." He says sternly. "You got me the Oval Office. Thought I'd get you something oval, too." He grins.

"Help me put it on?" You ask him. He nods his head as you move to stand in front of the mirror.

He carefully takes it out of the box and comes to stand behind you. He pauses for a moment and swallows thickly before brushing a few stray hairs from your neck. He doesn't miss the small hitch in your breath.

He brings the chain around you. You hold it in place as he hooks the clasp. His fingers linger for just a moment. You smile at him in the mirror. Your perfume fills his noses. His senses are overwhelmed. He thinks about how easy it would be right now to lean down and place a kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders.

Another knock at the door and a voice in your earpiece causes both of you to jump.

You clear your throat as both of you move to exit.

The party is in full swing when you step onto the stage. The room gues quiet as you walk up to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you being. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you, President Bradley Bradshaw and Vice President Jacob Seresin!" The crowd applaudes as then men stride out.

They both give speeches and mingle for a bit.

You're happily sipping on champagne when the coordinator for the evening comes up to you. "Ms. Wiseman, it's time for the president's first dance." She informs you.

"No, you must be mistaken. We decided not to do a first dance, seeing as there is no First Lady." You tell her.

"Ma'am, the president himself specifically requested this at the beginning of the evening." She insists.

You groan and set your champagne down. "Where is he?" You ask her. She quickly tells you his location, and you brush past her to find him.

"Y/N! There you are!" Bradley smiles at you. "When were you planning on telling me you changed the schedule? Who are you even going to dance with?" You scold him.

"You." He says. "What? No! I already held the Bible for you. I have filled my stereotypical gender role for the day! I have emails to send and calls to return!" You yell at him.

Before you can do anything else, he snatches your phone out of your hand and tucks it into his suit pocket.

A low warning sound, similar to a growl, leaves your throat as you stare daggers at him.

"Relax. One dance and you can have it back." He tells you. You flare your nostrils and take a deep breath.

"Fine." You grumble out. He takes your arm and loops it around his as he escorts you out to the crowd.

He sweeps you around the room as "I've Had the Time of My Life" is played by the string quartet.

As soon as the music is over, something more lively is played, and everyone joins you on the dance floor. True to his word, he gives you back your phone. As the night winds down, the secret service assures you that they have everything under control and they will come find you if something happens.

You thank them and sneak off from the party. Once you're back in the safety of your room, you press your back against the door and sigh.

One day down, one thousand four-hundred sixty to go.

So I just wanted to say thank you for the love the prologue got! I hope yall enjoyed chapter 1!

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lt-bradshaw @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @chicomonks @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis

As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden!

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun smut #tgm fanfiction #tgm smut #tgm fic #tgm #top gun 2 #red white and rooster

663 notes · View notes

matan4il · 4 months

Text

Daily update post:

Over the last couple of days, 3 independent Palestinian terrorist attacks took place. In one of them, Palestinian terrorists killed a Palestinian man that they mistook for a Jew, 33 years old Amar Mansour. A 42 years old Palestinian woman who was in the car with him was wounded. She was evacuated to a hospital in Ramallah, and then later transferred to the Hadassah medical center in Jerusalem, where she works as a pharmacist. Israeli soldiers risk their lives whenever they go after terrorists, and they are doing that for these Palestinians, just as they do for Israeli Jews and for Israeli Arabs murdered by terrorists.

Since Saleh al-Arouri was eliminated in Lebanon, the fighting between Israel and Hezbollah has escalated. The terrorist organization, which is destroying civilian communities, has struck an Israel Air Force base, nicknamed "the country's northern eyes," which is dedicated to monitoring aerial threats invading Israel's north, and monitoring aircrafts in Israel's northern sky (so they're kinda like an air force control tower, making sure aircrafts don't crash). Hezbollah released footage showing 2 of the base's 3 domes being hit. Reports say it took two hours to get the fire under control, and the base back online. It's not the only army base hit by Hezbollah (the Northern Command's base was struck today), but probably the most damaging attack so far.

Following that, a Hezbollah senior terrorist was killed yesterday in Lebanon. In the terrorist organization's announcement, he was described as 'The Commander,' a term not used for any of Hezbollah's other killed terrorists, suggesting just how important he was to their terrorist activity. There's a report on Saudi news, that Hezbollah tried to attack an Israeli natural gas rig using drones, but it's too early to know how true this is.

Here's a conversation made by a Gazan to an IDF officer, to ask for aid. The IDF officer tells the man to raise white flags as they approach Israeli soldiers for this purpose, but then the man inquires when the Israeli army will destroy Hamas. He points out that Hamas is killing Gaza's people.

youtube

As Israel is being sued by South Africa at the International Court for Justice (here), and as SA chose to appoint a judge to the case (in addition to the 15 permanent judges of the ICJ, a right given to both the suing and sued countries in that court), Israel has appointed Aharon Barak as a judge on its behalf. Barak is an 87 years old Holocaust survivor, globally renowned and respected judge and legal expert, and the former president of Israel's Supreme Court of Justice.

Since the anti-Israel crowd love quotes from Israeli officials (and to take them out of context, in a way that vilifies the Jewish state), here's another one (source in Hebrew): Moshe Arbel, an ultra orthodox member of the Knesset (Israel's parliament), and currently Minister of Interior Affairs, has said today explicitly that the status of the Arabic language in Israel must not be harmed, and that despite some populist utterances, most of the public in Israel is looking for that which unites everyone here, rather than that which divides us.

Among the things you never hear about when looking at anti-Israeli sources, is that when Jews build houses illegally, those are demolished by the state, just like when Palestinians do it. This night, Israel did exactly that in Judea and Samaria.

It's the third time, at the very least, that Israel has done so since the start of the war in Gaza.

The families of the hostages have said that today, they'll had for the border with Gaza, to block the way of aid trucks going in from Israel. They are upset that while their family members have been held hostage for over 90 days (when we know that there has been rape and abuse of the hostages in many different ways, when the mothers have started talking about the fact that their daughters might be forced to carry pregnancies from the Hamas terrorists continuously raping them in captivity, when the hostages are known not to be receiving proper medical care or even enough food and water), the aid going into Gaza is being stolen by Hamas, allowing them to continue to fight, and to refuse the release of the hostages. At the time of compiling this post, IDK yet if the families carried this out.

This is 86 years old Shlomo Mansour.

In one of my past daily update posts, I mentioned him, and that he's the oldest hostage in Gaza. He was 85 years old when he was kidnapped. He's also a Holocaust survivor. I watched a touching piece that was aired in Nov about him, interviewing his wife in light of their upcoming 60th anniversary, during which he was still held captive by terrorists. Now it's been translated into English:

youtube

This is 35 years old Idan Amedi.

If you watched Fauda, you may know him from that show as an actor.

If you're Israeli, you probably know him even before that as a singer. I got to watch a vid at a relatively early stage of the fighting in Gaza, where Idan's voice can be heard, dedicating his unit blowing up a terror tunnel, to their friends murdered on Oct 7. I believe many Israelis saw that vid, and knew he was in there, fighting for over 3 months by this point.

Idan was seriously wounded, one of at least 9 Israeli soldiers killed in Gaza yesterday, and at least 6 soldiers injured. His cousin asked everyone to pray for him (Idan ben Tova). Israeli-Serbian basketballer Deni Avdija, who plays for the Washington Wizards, took the court today with a dedication to Idan on his basketball shoes. It says, in Hebrew, "For the healing of Idan son of Tova Amedi."

Maybe Idan's biggest, most well known song is Warriors' Pain (which he wrote himself, lyrics and melody). One of its haunting lines is, "You don't understand why, I have long stopped being myself, images running from that night." I am gonna add the official YT vid of this song, and dedicate it to the memory of all of those who were injured or died fighting the terrorists from Gaza, whether on Oct 7 or since.

youtube

You know what was absolutely abhorrent? I pretty much stopped going on Twitter, because the antisemitism is beyond disgusting. But I had a moment of weakness, went there, and saw a tweet from a British journalist, who couldn't say anything yet, but implied that many Israeli soldiers were killed yesterday, and the amount of commenters basically celebrating it was despicable, but also a reminder... people who care about human rights don't celebrate the death of so many human beings. Every single one of those soldiers is fighting in a war that Israel didn't choose to start, and that Hamas could have ended a long time ago. Not a single one of them would have chosen to be in Gaza and die, if Israelis had a choice. Each one is an entire family destroyed. I was listening to an interview with the best friend of one killed soldier, and she was so clearly devastated, fighting to speak through tears, it was hard to bear so much pain, and she wasn't even a relative or spouse. Those disgusting people who celebrate the death of Israeli soldiers prove that they don't care about human rights, they just rejoice over the death of Jews.

Oh, and a part of why they do that, is because they don't want us talking about our pain. Who would talk about their pain, when it just because a weapon for haters to inflict even more emotional pain? But that's the thing. We're human beings. The antisemitic anti-Israel crowd seeks to de-humanize us in the same way the Nazis did. If we speak about our pain, if people hear us, that is way more threatening to them than any of their distorted facts being called out. So I'm not going to stop talking about our pain, we deserve to share it when we're hurting, we deserve to be seen as the human beings that we are. And people who are so morally lost, that they can try to use it, to inflict more pain? They don't deserve for their words to count.

This is 32 years old Dvir David Pima.

He was a deputy battalion commander, who identified a terror tunnel shaft as booby trapped, but without enough time to stop it from blowing up. He threw himself at it. His body took the blast, and by doing so, he saved the lives of the 3 other soldiers who were there.

May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Youtube

136 notes · View notes

wutheringcaterpillar · 7 days

Note

Hi! I hope you’re doing good 🩷

If you ever feel like it could write something / head canon about Tommy with a girly reader? Pink, bows, frills and all those princess stuff.

He would probably look so out of place in her old bedroom lol. Can you imagine Thomas Shelby sipping tea on a pink chair in a pink bedroom surrounded by plushie. Not so gangsta now is he? 😭

Hope you enjoy, thank you for the request!

Tommy admiring how your hair is always in pig tails, and the way your strands were held by baby pink hued bows

engaging in the tea parties, sitting awkwardly at the table but he does to ensure his princess is undeniably happy

Him getting “jealous” of your imaginary friends flirting with you and fucking you senseless on your pastel themed bed.

knee socks were a weakness.

He loves how in public you try to act all high and mighty, but clinging to his arms whenever a car passes too fast.

Tommy being over protective of you, not allowing any other person near you because of how innocent and how oblivious you are to the cruel cold world

He secretly admires how needy you are, and how you still reflect into your childhood nostalgia to remain calm and in a safe space.

Cuddles, endless amounts of cuddles, and lap sitting, a constant need for hand holding.

Spoiling you with all the plushies you desired, even if he found it silly.

always tucking you between his arms when you’d go to sleep, ensuring there was a plushie in your hands even if he found it odd.

people constantly pointing out that Tommy always looked sour and bitter compared to your cheery self.

when you had on that baby pink lingerie, acting innocent and needing his attention, he’d give all of himself to you.

protective and possessive were the traits you needed, traits you craved

Tommy would defend his princess always in public, if she said the sky was red, it was fucking red and be damned anyone who’d argue it.

always bringing him crafts you made, decorating his office with origamis, and colored pictures.

People often questioning Tommy’s power because of it but quickly learning that didn’t make Tommy any less dangerous.

Shielding you from his business affairs.

Bubble baths were a necessity.

#tommy shelby #headcanon #thomas shelby #tommy shelby head canons #Thomas shelby head canons #Peaky blinders #ranaewrites

56 notes · View notes

compacflt · 10 months

Note

what are ice & mav’s favorite colors? what is your favorite color?

this is so specific anon i am screaming!!!!!

junior public affairs officer just out of college, having lost a bet and now being forced to pay, stepping into admiral kazansky’s pearl harbor office, trembling, sweating, holy shit, : Sir… just for indopacom branding purposes… t-the public affairs office would like to know what your favorite color is…

admiral Kazansky, dusting his framed confirmation certificate signed by the SECDEF and SECNAV and POTUS, entirely flatly and disinterestedly, without a hint of humor: United-States-Navy blue. [Pause] i feel this could have been an email. In the future, [long lecture about wasting the brass’ valuable time]

(PAO, to the rest of the pacflt general staff, later: this guy is fucking unreal. US navy blue. fuck him he is not real. he was genetically engineered by the DOD in the 1950s as a bioweapon. he’s not a real person.)

his favorite color is just blue. and it’s one of those questions no one ever asks him until Bradley comes along so he doesn’t have a favorite color until five-year-old Bradley asks him (this is an extremely important question to five-year-olds), which is when he decides on blue. “why?” pretty arbitrary, kiddo. i dunno. It’s the color of the sky and the color of the sea. and those are pretty much my only two reasons to live. shrug.

mav’s favorite color is red. You know, danger & stuff. “it’s the color of the warning lights that start flashing when you do something cool in an f-18 😛”

#my favorite color is also blue but im not going to tell you what shade. it’s personal.#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #asks #i remember asking my dad what his favorite color was and getting incensed when he said he didn’t have one #i always thought (this is a very gay thought and i apologize)#that if ice & mav were elements ice would be water & air and mav would be fire & air #WERE REACHING LEVELS OF TOPGUNPOASTING NEVER BEFORE THOUGHT POSSIBLE

67 notes · View notes

dandorime · 2 months

Text

In Dr. Zor's Car, in an Airplane over the Sea

When he'd first discovered it, Agent Phoenix naively thought he was in some kind of space-age training program.

Everything had happened so quickly.

Two weeks ago, he had signed and submitted the paperwork across the desk to a rather severe-looking man in a black suit and dark sunglasses.

Only ten days ago he'd been wide awake as they drilled a tiny hole into his skull and implanted a piece of equipment in his brain. Except for the first couple of shots of local anesthetic into his scalp, he hadn't felt a thing. It took less than 20 minutes, start to finish.

Seven days ago he'd had his first and only training session to use the implant and discovered, much to his awe and delight, that he now commanded the mysterious power of telekinesis. He'd likewise been warned never to use it in public, no matter how fun it might be... the enemy already knew they had this technology, and past agents had accidentally given themselves away with errant floating objects. Emphasis on "past" agents.

Yesterday he'd been assigned an office at headquarters. He'd "met" his handler, a voice with neither a face nor a name that came to him via a radio in his ear, and learned he was being sent on a mission immediately.

Certainly his first mission, to steal some evil genius's car and drive it out of a moving airplane, must have been a training exercise. It was a wild gambit, an over-the-top affair like the plot of a movie, too crazy to be anything a rational defense agency would actually ask their agents to do... but here Phoenix was, in the car, in an airplane over the sea.

His handler never mentioned a training mission. He never said the word "drill", so Phoenix played along.

He was surprised when the laser that tried to shoot him in the face left a very real burn on the headrest. The revolver he found in the back seat fired a real slug through the window when he pulled the trigger, too. Obviously these EOD guys liked to train with live fire.

Breaking the window, though... that was his first mistake. The poison gas (comically even labeled "poison gas" on the pipe delivering it to the cargo hold) started to flood into the cabin of the car, and Agent Phoenix found himself very legitimately unable to breathe.

His lungs burned, his eyes stung, his vision began to narrow. His last thoughts were confusion and panic as he realized that he was genuinely, categorically, one-hundred-percent dying.

...then he awoke in a strange room.

Agent Phoenix took a deep breath. His lungs easily filled with air: in, out. In, out. The bitter tang of the gas was gone. He felt fine now, as if someone had flipped a switch and turned off the pain, but the confusion still lingered.

Was he... dead? Really, actually dead?

He was in a blue place, as blue as the sky outside the windows of the cargo hold in which he'd only just met his fate. It wasn't the open sky, though. It was very perceptibly a small, rather square room, containing only a chair (in which he found himself sitting) and a small table. The table looked a lot like the desk in his office, actually.

There was a briefcase open on the desk before him. Bad espionage practice, Phoenix thought, starting to read the exposed contents within. He froze when he realized what he was reading.

A death certificate.

His death certificate.

Death by poison gas, it said. There was an unhelpful drawing of a human outline and arrows indicating the flow of gas into his lungs.

So he was dead, then, and whatever power of the universe decided to explain it to him had a strange sense of humor.

He looked around the room. He got up out of the chair and walked around the table. He sat back down.

How strange that nothing was happening, Phoenix thought. He'd never been religious, but if he was going to be conscious after his death, he at least expected to meet his ancestors, or some cosmic deity, or something.

"Hello?"

No answer.

Huh, he thought, maybe they weren't expecting me so soon, either.

Agent Phoenix pondered a bit about what his handler must think of him, dying less than five minutes into his first mission. Although he'd only heard the man's voice a handful of times, he had sounded pretty friendly. He hoped losing an agent so quickly didn't give the poor guy a complex...

He plucked his death certificate out of the briefcase and read it more closely. Maybe he wasn't allowed to get to the eternal judgement part until he finished the assigned reading.

At the bottom, there was a form message from the Secret Agent Group to whomever it may concern:

Our condolences to the bereaved, but Zoraxis must be stopped at all costs. This agent's death will not be in vain. We will prevail.

The agent hummed to himself. Among spies and soldiers, he was a lucky one: he didn't have any family to receive a KIA letter. Nobody would be broken up about him, nobody would struggle without him.

His only regret was not staying alive long enough to contribute to the Agency. He'd been genuinely eager to have a hand in saving the world, like they'd promised he could. All his life he'd been part of the defense complex, but the only deployments being handed out now were to bomb women and children living in jungles overseas. He didn't want to do what his country asked of him, he wanted to do good. To stop a war, like he'd believed when he was little...

Well, so much for that.

Pulling the report out of the briefcase had revealed something else tucked away in the same pocket: a long card.

It looked like an airline ticket, he thought. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, wondering why on earth the dead would need tickets for air travel.

It had his name on it. Not his intake number, not "Agent Phoenix", but his real name. It also had the logo of the EOD on it, and, confusingly, the personal mark of that evil genius whose car he had been trying to drive off an airplane: Dr. Zor.

Why would those things be together in the same place? Why would either of them be part of his (admittedly, weird) afterlife?

Most mysteriously, on the line reserved for the name of the destination airport, the word "RETRY" was printed bold in dark red ink. The characters had been pushed so heavily into the thick paper by the printing block that they felt embossed, like a fancy invitation.

Agent Phoenix ran his fingers over the letters, deep in thought.

...and, all at once, he was back in the car, in the airplane over the sea.

"What in the hell?"

"Something the matter, Agent?"

It was his handler, acting convincingly like nothing was amiss.

"I... I just-..."

Agent Phoenix twisted around in the driver's seat, dumbstruck, examining his surroundings for evidence of what he knew had just happened moments before.

The windows were intact. The poison gas was safely outside. The headrest of the seat behind him was unburnt. The revolver was still sitting on the back seat, exactly where he'd found it last time.

Everything was reset, even the time on the car's clock, to how it had been the moment he began to work towards the mission objective.

"...but how?" Phoenix quietly muttered, replaying the events of his death in his mind step-by-step.

His handler's voice in his ear gently shook him back to the present.

"Agent, are you quite alright?"

He sounded concerned.

Slowly, Phoenix pulled himself out of shock. He was starting to connect the dots. The insane premise of this mission, the strange room, the logos on his return flight ticket...

So it was all a training exercise... but not any kind of exercise he'd experienced before. This was an advanced program, far above storming plywood houses and red-team/blue-team, beyond firing blank ammo at mockup targets. The Agency must have some cutting-edge secretive technology that made the mission feel brutally real. Something with lasers and holograms, if he had to guess.

Well, damn!

"Sorry, I'm fine... I just wasn't expecting whatever the hell that was," the agent chuckled into his microphone as his heartrate gradually returned to a sensible figure.

His handler took a beat before replying.

"Whatever the hell what was, Agent?"

If they went to all the trouble to make a mission experience this realistic, of course they weren't going to reveal it to the agent being trained until it was over...

"Nevermind," Phoenix chirped, internally assuring himself he couldn't possibly have been the first agent to shoot out the window and die to the gas. He wouldn't make such a rookie mistake again.

"I'm good, let's do this."

He did, ultimately, make two more rookie mistakes. He blew himself up trying to defuse a bomb, and while trying to drive the car off the plane, he accidentally put it into reverse and backed into something explosive.

Each time, he found himself in the weird little room again. He had a good head-shaking session reading his death certificate, then popped back into existence in perfect health in the undamaged car on the plane.

His was grateful that his handler was stayed mute about his past errors. He even cracked some of the same jokes he'd made the previous rounds. Maybe it was just a recording of his handler, Phoenix mused to himself, programmed into whatever massive system is running this whole thing.

Finally, after much education, Agent Phoenix had the objective in his grasp. The cargo bay door was open, the engine was purring. He put his foot down on the gas like a drag racer.

The luxury coupe sailed out of the cargo bay into the beautiful blue sky. Just as his handler had assured him, a set of parachutes deployed from the vehicle and unfolded above him, offering a gentle ride to the ocean below. He could feel the G-forces changing as he went from freefall to paraglide.

The view was spectacular. He rolled down the windows just for fun and breathed in the clean air. The wind through his hair felt real. It even smelled real, he noted, deeply impressed.

When the car at last splashed down and inflated a raft from beneath the tires, he had a good time looking for fish in the water as the patrol boat sent to collect him closed in on his location. They'd put all kinds of his favorite ocean creatures into the scene: he saw a shark, a man-o-war, and much farther out, a whale's tail fluke breaching the water.

Whoever designed this training mission thought of absolutely everything, Phoenix marveled.

(Unfortunately I can't finish a chapter this week, but this is part of what will eventually be in it, just for fun.)

#i expect you to die #ieytd #agent phoenix #the handler #poor Phoenix doesn't understand what's happening to him yet #but at least he's having a good time

13 notes · View notes

liberonoya · 1 month

Text

Sora Tobu Kohoshitsu (2013) Ayano Go as Sorai Daisuke

#soratobu kouhoushitsu #public affairs office in the sky #ayano go #jdramasource #jdramaedit #jdrama #*g

7 notes · View notes

sanjoongie · 1 year

Text

FFF~ Day 19

♡Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader (f) x Kang Yeosang

♡Genre: Smut with no plot :)

♡Au: office workers, bar workers, friends to friends w/benefits

♡Word Count: 2,297

♡Warnings: public sex, cum shot, cum eating, cock rubbing pussy lips stimulation (what is this even called?), double penetration, hard/sadistic dom yeo/ soft sub hongjoong/ melty sub reader, m/m/f orgasm (multiple acutally oh gods), anal sex (f recieving), mxm

♡Rated: 18+ MDNI

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Fem Dom, PSH | Next Day~ Collar, JWY

♡Dedication~ @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii the unholy trinity beta team

“Are you finally going to ask V out on a date?” Yeosang asked as he and Hongjoong walked down the streets to go meet you at the bar you worked at.

Hongjoong contemplated the sky. “I just… I don’t want to ruin anything, Yeosang.”

Yeosang smirked but then hid it immediately. “But you’ve had a crush on her since high school. Don’t you think it’s gone on long enough?”

Hongjoong steeled his shoulders. “I’ll! I’ll try today. Yes. I’ll finally ask V if she’ll consider dating me.”

Not while she’s on my dick, Yeosang thought to himself. Yeosang sent you a quick text to let you know that Hongjoong was coming to your bar for dinner and his purpose but Yeosang would meet you out back. Yeosang slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“I’m going to head home, I’m too tired to socialize tonight, Joong,” Yeosang said, stretching his arms above his head.

Hongjoong sent him a confused look. “So you just convinced me to ask V out but you’re not going to be there to shove it in my face?”

Yeosang laughed, light and airy, and not his real laugh at all. “I’ll let you have your moment, Hongjoong. You don’t need me rubbing it in your face that it took you long enough when she says yes.”

Hongjoong looked a bit wistful but he nodded resolutely. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

Yeosang strode off down the road and when he heard Hongjoong enter the bar, he turned the corner to the back street of the bar V worked at. He was leaning against the opposite wall when you burst through the back door.

“Why is Hongjoong confessing to me?!” You demanded. You were breathing hard from running to the back and you were a bit flustered.

Yeosang smirked from his place at the wall. “Because I told him he should.”

“Yeosang!” You scolded him, hands on your hips. “Now is not the time.”

Yeosang pushed himself off the wall with his foot and walked towards you confidently. “Why’s that, V? It’s not like you’re seeing anyone right now.”

You back up at Yeosang’s approach. You swallowed hard, eyes downcast. “You know exactly why now is not a good time.”

Yeosang tipped your head up, barely containing his smile. “Say it. Or I won’t give it to you.”

“Because I’m your good little slut,” You said in a hushed town.

“You ARE my good little slut, aren’t you?” Yeosang murmured against your lips before carefully capturing your lips in a sultry lip lock that had your panties moistening immediately.

You whined into his lips and pushed on his chest. “Not at work, please, Yeosang.”

“Oh but you love being dirty at work, don’t you?” Yeosang chuckled. He spun you around so that your back was against his chest and his fingers found your panties, pulling up the short skirt you were made to wear as a uniform. “You’re already wet, kitten.”

“Yeosang,” You struggled weakly in his arms. The man had a hold of your libido at this point. The accidental drunk fuck in this back alley once had turned into many clandestine affairs in the cool air behind your work. You were addicted to these quick and hot moments but tonight felt different.

“Why would you convince Hongjoong to confess to me tonight, when you’re just going to do this?” You whispered as his lips pecked kisses along the slope of your shoulder and neck.

“Because I can,” Yeosang replied simply.

He yanked your underwear down to your thighs and slipped his hard cock from his pants. When you weakly protested about his cum leaking out of you while you served customers, he chuckled again. “V, you’re cute. Like you haven’t done that so many times before. In fact, last time you were so turned on that you made me come back and fuck it back into you.”

“Yeosang,” You groaned his name, “Please, not with Hongjoong.”

Yeosang sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. "I suppose I could listen to your request this one time." So instead he slipped his cock between your squeezed thighs, the top of his shaft running along your pussy lips. "How's this, Kitten?"

"Yeosang," You gasped as the head of his cock dragged along your clit and lips and hole but never did it threaten to penetrate you.

"Be a good little slut for me, hmmm?" Yeosang hummed into your ear, causing you to shiver in reaction, "Treat me good, Kitten."

You rocked your hips as Yeosang fucked your thighs from behind, a very close interpretation of fucking. You could feel your thighs getting wet, Yeosang's precum and your slickness dripping down your thighs. "I can be good for you, Yeosang."

"So desperate for me, aren't you?" Yeosang murmured. He pulled out his phone and opened his messages to Hongjoong's.

Yeosang: Hey, I changed my mind. I'm just having a smoke out back, wanna come out?

Yeosang slipped his phone back into his pocket just as you whined for him again. "I'm gonna come like this, Yeosang, are you almost there?"

Yeosang chuckled, "I've been holding back the minute my cock touched your sweet pussy lips."

You groaned out loud and Hongjoong chose that moment to burst through the backdoor to see what Yeosang was doing to you.

Hongjoong's eyes flew open and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Yeo--V?"

Yeosang, the bugger, didn't stop thrusting between your legs.

"Hong--hongjoong!" You used your hands to shield your cunt from him but Yeosang's cock head hit your palms and caused him to moan loudly at the contact. "Yeosang!" You shouted.

Hongjoong spun around on his heel, turning around immediately. "I didn't--Yeosang!--what is this?"

"Just wanted you to get a preview of what you're signing up for when you ask V out," Yeosang teased, still fucking the outside of your cunt. "Move your hand, kitten, I'm finishing."

Hongjoong looked over his shoulder quickly and then went back to staring at the door. "I don't understand," he whined.

"If you want V, you get me in the same deal," Yeosang grunted, his orgasm chasing after him. "Did you know, V, Hongjoong and I had a fun little fling that one weekend during college when you went away for Christmas to Cuba?"

"Yeosang!" Hongjoong protested.

"He was so whiny for me. Just like how you are for me. My two cute little subbies. This is why neither of you two got together. You need me to hold us together."

"What are you suggesting?" You demanded. Your pussy was throbbing and you wanted to come too.

"I think that I should finish our orgasms, Hongjoong should take my load and then we should fuck you at the same time," Yeosang offered shamelessly.

"That is so fucking nasty! Yeosang!" You scolded him.

The more shocking part of this conversation was actually Hongjoong turning around and dropping to his knees. He wouldn't look up at you but he had the prettiest blush on his cheeks. "I wanna do that."

"See?" Yeosang hooted, a huge grin blooming on his face, "Let Hongjoong fuck your pussy, he won't last long, don't worry. I'll be here for moral support, he'll need it. Your pussy is that good."

"Yeo-yeosang!" You stuttered his name. "Joong?" You couldn't help but wonder if this was truly okay.

Hongjoong's eyes were big and bright and eager. "Please."

"Oh-okay, Joong," You agreed breathlessly.

Hongjoong opened his mouth, tongue out flat to catch what Yeosang would give to him. Yeosang picked up the pace, groaning at the feeling of your pussy lips clenching down but not receiving anything. "You're both such eager little sluts for me, look at you two."

Yeosang made the final pass along your clit that pushed you into your orgasm. You whined through the entire thing and that was the final straw for Yeosang. Your slippery lips whispering along his length made him come hard. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" He spurted onto Hongjoong's waiting tongue but because of his sloppy thrusting between your legs, it got all over Hongjoong's face too, making the kneeling man close his eyes cutely.

"Oh my fucking god," You exclaimed, watching it all enfold as you were enjoying your high.

"Now," Yeosang said with a shaky sigh, "I'm going to lean up against the wall here. Is it okay for me to fuck your ass while Hongjoong's dick gets a good taste of your cunt, Kitten? I'm all lubricated from your cum. You're such a wet little slut." Yeosang halted cooing at you and in a sterner tone said, "Hongjoong, clean yourself up already, jesus, you're pathetic."

Hongjoong cutely wiped Yeosang's cum from his face and stood up. "Please say yes, V. I would lo-love to fuck your pu-pussy," He stuttered over his words, getting redder by the moment.

Yeosang pulled out from between your legs and shuffled until his back hit the brick wall behind the both of you. "Up to you, V."

You cupped Hongjoong's face, "Are you sure?"

Hongjoong licked his lips ardently. "Yes. Absolutely."

You arched an eyebrow at him. "Didn't you come here with the intention of asking me to start dating you?"

Hongjoong giggled. "Who says we can't have both?"

Yeosang rolled his eyes. "Can you two come here so we can fuck?"

Yeosang fucked your ass, stretching you out in a familiar way, whispering about how you were such a dirty slut for him. Hongjoong slipped into your pussy with a satisfied cry, his hands trembling as he settled them on your shoulders where Yeosang was occupied with holding you in between the two of them, his hands cupping the undersides of your knees.

"I'm so stuffed," You cried out, biting down on your lip.

"Love having two dicks in you, don't you?" Yeosang grunted. As much as he loved your pussy, your puckered hole was a whole other experience. He loved how it made you feel like it was a dirty and taboo thing. He loved how you clenched down harder with him inside of you than your pussy.

"I--" Hongjoong swallowed loudly, "I can feel you, Yeosang," He said, sounding strained.

"Yeah, you can feel my dick against yours, Joong?" Yeosang cooed at the other man.

"Oh my god, you two are hot," You whimpered.

"Like being sandwiched between two men that are desperate for your holes, Kitten?" Yeosang teased you.

The two men were thrusting into you at opposite times, leaving you no time to catch your breath. You had never been so stimulated in your entire life. Yeosang tended to be all encompassing, hence why you kept coming back for his dick, but Hongjoong added a different level. He seemed so concentrated on fucking your pussy but every once in a while he would whimper at his thighs touching Yeosang's or the fact that he wanted to kiss your lips but Yeosang had forbid it.

"Focus on fucking her sweet puss, Hongjoong, kisses can come after her shift. She still has to go back in there, you know," Yeosang laughed wickedly.

"I'm coming," Hongjoong shouted coarsely and his thrusts became uncoordinated as you felt him paint your insides. He whined so prettily for you that you were a bit shocked at the noises falling from those plush lips.

"Fuck, Hongjoong, that's so cute," You couldn't help but comment.

"Stay inside of her, Joong," Yeosang commanded. "I'm gonna make her come."

Hongjoong's eyes looked worried and he shook his head. "No, wait, it's gonna be too much!"

"You love overstimulation, you little slut." Yeosang grunted and unloaded into you.

Your other hole was so loose that his cum slipped out of you with the act of gravity. You whimpered at the feel of it. "So dirty. How am I supposed to work like this?"

"Can I pull out now?" Hongjoong wondered, a bit petulant.

Yeosang rolled his eyes and chuckled. "What am I going to do with you two?"

Hongjoong and Yeosang pulled out at the same time and both their cum came flowing out of your two holes. You felt your own face heat up and Yeosang chuckled. "Now ain't that a sight."

Hongjoong's jaw was on the floor at the sight. "It's so pretty."

Yeosang settled your feet on the floor once the cum stopped pouring from you. He gently patted your ass. "Go clean yourself up, V. We'll meet you in the bar. We owe you some tips, I suppose." Yeosang winked at Hongjoong, who avoided eye contact immediately.

"How are we supposed to go back in there and pretend like nothing happened?" Hongjoong wondered quietly.

"You still have to confess to her, don't you?" Yeosang grinned.

"Um…" You interrupted the two of them, smoothing your hands over your skirts. "Don't you mean the both of you have to confess to me?"

Yeosang shrugged, " 'suppose she's right, huh, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong nodded, that pretty blush back on his face again. "I'd like that," He admitted softly.

"V! Your break is almost done, hurry up!" One of your coworkers shouted from inside.

"I gotta go." You hurriedly kissed both their cheeks and then jogged back into the bar.

The door shut loudly behind you and Yeosang wrapped an arm around Hongjoong's waist. " C'mon, Hongjoong. I'll help you with your boner inside if you get another one. Let's make our Kitten jealous, huh?"

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Fem Dom, PSH | Next Day~ Collar, JWY

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #thekpopuniverse #february filth fest #ateez smut #kim hongjoong smut #kang yeosang smut #atz smut #yeosang smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez scenarios #kim hongjoong scenarios #kang yeosang scenarios #topaz's work #ღatz

90 notes · View notes

redsamuraiii · 2 years

Photo

Public Affairs Office in the Sky - Soratobu Kouhoushitsu (Ep 1)

Japan should make a military action movie like Top Gun, would be cool to see F-15J dogfighting with North Korean MiG-29.

#public affairs office in the sky #soratobu kouhoushitsu #go ayano #ayano go #japanese drama #j drama #jdrama #dorama #japan #japan air self-defense force #f-15 #mig-29 #top gun

13 notes · View notes

dduane · 2 years

Note

Hello there Ms. Duane!

Since you’re a published author of both original fiction and of fiction based upon existing fandom universes, I was wondering if you could answer a question for unpublished writers out there.

How do publishers select an author to write a story based on an existing fandom universe? I’m thinking of course of Star Trek, Star Wars… any of the stars, all of the stars… and even non-star-focused expanded universe stories. ;) Are new authors ever selected for those sorts of things? Or do publishers reach into their lists of their own authors? How does that work, in your experience?

Thanks so much!

Sure! A pleasure to assist.

First of all, let's shift the terminology a little. There's too much possible misunderstanding inherent in the term "fandom universe". To describe the works we’re talking about I’d rather use the name the owners of the big ones (and people negotiating with them) use in discussing them: “licensed properties”. This term means that some corporate entity—could be small,* could be big—owns the (copy)rights to the intellectual property on/in which the storytelling is based, in whatever format, and licenses people to come and work in/with it.

I started working in other people’s universes in the early 1980s, when the concept was beginning to ooze more energetically out of film and TV, where it was born (and where I first ran into it), and into other media such as prose and comics. For the moment, let’s stick to dealing with Star Trek, as it’s not only one of the older licensors, but the one I have the longest affiliation with and know the best.

Bantam Books acquired the license from Paramount Pictures to publish Star Trek prose works in in 1966. Having initially commissioned the well-known SF writer James Blish to adapt the individual scripts of Star Trek’s original series into prose, Bantam then began commissioning original works of novel-length fiction in the Trek universe.

What the Bantam editors would have done was look around the SF field for writers who they thought would work well with the franchise (in terms of tone, voice, style, and availability), and approach them to find out whether they’d be interested in writing for a licensor. (Some of them might have been writers the editors had previously worked with in other fiction-publishing venues.) Alternately, writers might approach the editors through their agents (once they heard that the publisher was interested in commissioning work of this kind) and pitch novel projects to them. I got in through the door the second way, having been profoundly annoyed by one of the Bantam-published books and feeling pretty sure I could do better.

The salient point to note is that whether one was being approached by the publisher, or doing the approaching—even at that relatively early state of affairs—at least 95% of the time, the writer in question had previous credential in published fiction. This makes sense because when you’re writing for a licensor, they need proof that you (a) can come up with a strong enough idea to support the weight and length of a novel, (b) will be able to finish a novel once commissioned, (c) will be able to cope professionally with accepting and correctly implementing notes you’re given on needed revisions, and (d) have demonstrable strengths of writing skill that have been concretely confirmed by previous sales figures.

In my case, I came into the Bantam offices (virtually speaking) with all four of the above, as well as various award nominations and other prizes for my first two books. Paramount looked at the outline and initial three chapters I’d submitted to Bantam through my agent, and more or less immediately gave me the go-ahead (though there was a brief pause while Paramount changed licensed publishers, withdrawing their license from Bantam and passing it to Simon & Schuster / Pocket Books). The deal then went ahead, leading to the publication of The Wounded Sky in December 1983.

The main issue here, though, would have been one of previous credential... and what having that says about the writer’s ability to complete work as expected, hit scheduled turn-in and revision dates, and not screw up the rest of what can be a complex publication schedule with (sometimes) significant money riding on advertising and promotion. Even then, there was very minimal presence on the Bantam roster of writers without previous credential in published fiction. Later on, there would be almost none.

You see where this is going, I suspect. These days, right across the field, increasingly large amounts of money are at stake in the publication of licensed works… and as a result things have tightened up a great deal. It seems likely to me that there are almost no writers for major licensed properties who don’t have previous published-fiction credential. So the answer to “are new authors ever selected?” would have been “Absolutely!” I mean, I was. “...But new never-previously-published ones? Highly, highly unlikely.” (I’m not saying impossible, mind you. If some major name in Star Wars publishing ran into their commissioning editor’s office one morning shouting, “Wow, you need to see this fanfic, we need to solicit this person...!!”, then... who knows? But this isn’t exactly going to be a commonplace occurrence.)

There is only one possibly-effective way around (or through) this situation: get out there and publish something else, something of your own, in a universe that is not the (licensed) one you’re interested in pitching to**… and something that will generate sales figures. This is fortunately easier than it used to be, because even self-publication can serve a purpose here. Either self-publication or traditional publication (if you can make it over that bar, which admittedly is not easy) can serve to prove to an editor that you can plan and outline a book, that you can not just start a novel but finish it, and that (afterwards) someone will buy it and read it.

But most to the point, either form of publication will display to a potential publisher that most difficult of things to convey in shorter works: the sound of your unique voice, the tone of your storytelling at novel length, and the quality of your prose. If you can put something of sufficient quality to demonstrate these into an editor’s hand, your odds of a successful pitch suddenly escalate from almost-zero to “Hmm...”. And a whole lot can come out of something that makes the editor say “Hmm...”. 😄

So my advice to you: get out there and write something in your world. Because anybody can write for Star Trek (or Star Wars, or all the other stars...). But right now only you can write the You-iverse... and until you do, we’ll never have the pleasure of experiencing it.

...Hope this helps!

*For example, the Young Wizards universe is an IP, with one owner: me. If I decided I felt like inviting people or companies into the universe to play there officially—anybody from individual authors to big companies—then (depending on the contractual situation) they would be my licensees, and their works in-universe would be licensed properties.

**Or any other.

#writing #writing advice #licensed properties #Star Trek novels #and others

240 notes · View notes

ver-slxt · 3 days

Text

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.

𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝐻𝒞 | 𝓃𝓈𝒻𝓌₊⊹♡

…

-> MASSIVE tw ahead: toddlercon/noncon/r4pe/underage/incest/sleep r4pe/paranoia/drinking/camera watching/grooming/hunterxprey/abuserxvictim.. <-

…

• before charlie was born, lucifer and his wife would fuuuck, all the time, everywhere, and anytime, no matter the occasion or how busy they were. but, when charlie was added to the equation, lucifer had his obsession set on his little girl rather than his wife, which made her severely bitter and cold towards the both of them, which may have been why she left + why his obsession started by how much she looked like his wife when she went missing/cut contact/how she had the same body when she grew older (to him).

…

• one time charlie barged in while lucifer and lilith were fucking, and being 12 and unknowing, she asked a lot of questions. and to lucifer, charlie wide-eyed asking why he was banging ‘mommy’, and ‘why did it sound like it felt amazing’, only made not only his boner harder to contain, but his lust and obsession for his daughter sky rocket, he later rubbed one out to the thought of bending her tiny body over right there and making her feel so much better than his wife.

…

• lucifer had many fantasies involving his daughter, some included him touching himself over her sleeping body, watching her touch herself in the shower while he stroked his cock, watching her behind a camera lense..

…

• his favorite fantasy would be charlie asking the old ‘birds and bees’ question and letting lucifer show her how to feel good, because if ‘mommy could feel good, she wanted to, too.’

…

• he wanted to be her first everything, first kiss, first orgasm, first partner, all of it.. but, when vaggie came into the picture it just, shattered him, so he cut contact but never stopped fantasizing about her.

…

• when he misses lilith (which is rare but not uncommon) he drinks heavily but then his mind gets raided with his daughter, soon the liquor takes over and he is hunched over his bed, rubbing his cock with her panties, slowly yet firmly, whispering dirty words, pretending that it was his daughters tight cunt he could fuck. he would always cum super quickly, and a lot, imagining it was her throat he was shooting it into.

…

• (tw- detailed toddlercon/rape) only time he actually got to molest her is when lilith was away when she was a child/baby. he went to give her a bath and couldnt hold himself back, gently finger-fucking her super tiny and bare pussy, careful to not scar or damage her pretty cunt. she came all over his slender fingers, sobbing and squirming around, not understanding why she felt so good, and incoherently babbling for more. soon he slipped his cock out and rubbed it on her tiny nipples, hands, mouth, and pussy. he had to use all of his might to not just fuck her right there, and break the poor thing. he came so hard he saw heaven above, his massive load shooting all over charlie, before she lapped it up, babbling while playing with the toys in the bath. he felt so guilty afterwards and didnt go near her for a while. he felt immense shame of being like that, why couldnt he just be a normal dad? he grew so paranoid he locked himself in his office for weeks, so scared of the public to find out about his taboo affair with his young baby girl.

…

•i hc tall!lucifer, charlie can barely brush under his chin and lucifer takes IMMENSE pride in that, knowing he has a lot more power + strength than her so if the moment arose, she was his.

…

•charlie may have figured something was up as a kid, not only by her dad being a little too close to her/near her during events/parties. but when she would get in trouble her father mainly handled the punishments, which almost always inclusively was spanking. he would pull her bottoms all the way off and spank her bare ass until her was sobbing and squirming, begging him to stop because it hurt too much. all the while his pants where unbuttoned and his clothed cock was rubbing against her chest the entire time to edge him.

…

• avid and i mean AVID step-daughter porn watcher, he is nuts about that stuff, watches almost every occasion he gets and imagined charlie in every position imaginable.

…

• shamefully bought a fleshlight too small for his cock so it would feel tight like he would imagine his daughters pussy’ is.

…

•has had multiple if not hundreds of wet dreams involving charlie growing up, mainly him finding her masturbating and him forcing her to continue in front of him for enjoyment before making her cum twice before sticking his swollen cock inside her. another wet dream he would have is charlie breaking up with vaggie (or any other partner in the dream) because they left her unsatisfied, before lucifer offered to show her some ‘tips’, and before the day was done charlie had came four times and lucifer was pumping his second load into her cunt.

…

• charlie had a short phase of wondering if her dad was really close to her with how special he was treating her. sometimes being there every minute of the day and others not seeing him for days or even weeks after an awkward encounter. she soon started to put the pieces together that maybe those awkward encounters werent really, ‘by chance’, and started freaking out. she cut contact without an explanation and began hyperfixating if her dad really did want her romantically. she knew it was wrong but something made her feel… special, knowing that the king of hell himself, even if he was her father, had taken a romantic and mainly sexual interest in her.

…

•only time lucifer was caught being a perv was when charlie was 25 and called him ‘daddy’. instant boner. rock SOLID. charlie noticed but brushed it embarrassingly away because maybe her mom used that in bed, strictly only called lucifer ‘dad’ afterwards. later that night lucifer went apeshit on his fleshlight for HOURS…

…

thats all for this post!! if you enjoyed them reblog, it helps spread it around X3

6 notes · View notes

thearchmanofgreenfield · 6 months

Text

As late afternoon dawned on Hatlynshire. The sun was nearing its highest point. And as it reached the pinnacle of its ascent across the cloudless clear sky, the entirety of Great Borough was embroiled in a sense of joy. The Hatlynshire City Park, the largest park in Hatlynshire, was decorated with banners, decorations and tents of all different kinds. Vendors stood along the walking paths selling novelty hats and flags. Families flocked to the park in order to attend the ongoing festivities. And in the center of it all was a large wooden stage which had been set up mere hours before, where the Mayor was said to give a speech facing the City Hall.

Henry stood by one of the side entrances to the center of the park which had a good view of the fair. The place was so crowded that he blended in well with the surrounding people. He was told not to attend the event that evening. But he had to witness the Circle’s plan be set into action personally. He had wanted to commit the act himself but it was out of the question. Next to him stood Carlyle Hatly. Henry had persuaded him to join him, mostly because his mind reading would be crucial to the execution of this operation.

The noise of the crowds reached infuriating levels. Henry didn’t know how long he could take it before going into a state of distress. A family quality. But he knew he had to take it. For what was about to happen would be deeply personal. It had been three days since the bombing in Hatles Borough. The news had already spread throughout the city yet the newspapers only portrayed it as ‘gang violence’. This was how they usually portrayed Circulion affairs. This fair had come out of the blue. Its commencement had only been publicized two days ago. Henry assumed the mayor had been planning it well before then. Perhaps it was sign that he was planning something before Henry and Ulysses even entered his office. A sign of his confidence. It was supposed to be a sort of fundraising campaign. But to Henry the timing was obvious. The very fact that the City Hall put this together in the wake of their act of war disgusted Henry. Yet he still felt a bit of respect for the sheer brazenness of the mayor. But he couldn’t help but be suspicious.

“The Mayor is no fool” he thought. “Why would he put on a show like this? Does he not understand that we will retaliate? Is this supposed be an insult?” his mind tried to make sense of things. He knew Victor was brazen. But to do something like this was seemed out of his character.

“Do not think of it too much. We have come here for a reason” said Carlyle. He seemed annoyed. Henry guessed that the thoughts of the crowd clouded his head. Filling it with useless commotion. Yet he could still find the focus to read Henry, who admittedly lacked practice when it came to hiding his feelings.

“I cannot help but feel like something is wrong, Hatly. Don’t you?”

“I take it that you mean the fact that City Hall would organize a fair like this after the bombing. Indeed it is strange”

“Exactly! Why would the Mayor do something like this? Does he not understand that the Circle will not just stand by after the crime he committed?”

“It appears so. Either the mayor thinks he has subdued us or he’s simply underestimating us. But even so, his fair has played right into our plans…”

“Almost too well” said Henry cutting Carlyle off. “Too well to be coincidence, don’t you think?”

Carlyle looked at Henry, intrigued. “What are you implying, Demon? You think the mayor wants to be the subject of our vengeance?”

“I think he knows we’re coming. Maybe he’s organized this entire event anticipating our inevitable attack. Maybe he puts himself out in the open so we don’t catch him by surprise”

“It would be a bold strategy you’re suggesting. And perhaps you are right’

“How many Hunters are among the crowd?” asked Henry. “How many minds can you read?”

“I can read some. There are a few vigilant minds among the crowd. Some are openly thinking about the Circle. I cannot count exactly but it seems that there is a fairly large troop here. Patrolling the grounds”

“What about our man? Can you still read him?”

“He’s blended well amongst the crowd. From what I can tell he has already taken his position”

“Good” said Henry. He knew that if Victor was truly going to appear on that stage, then it would be the perfect opportunity to get his revenge. But then the question of whether he had foreseen their admittedly predictable actions. Had he set a decoy? Or would he fake an excuse not to show up? Henry wanted the Circle’s revenge to be delivered with a sort of flair. A spectacle that will surely send a clear message.

“Do not worry, Demon. Even if the Mayor escapes that stage we have men waiting outside the park. He will never make it to City Hall”

“I thank you for your reassurance, Hatly. Yet I still cannot shake the feeling that something is off here”

“Perhaps it’s a hidden ability Demon. Maybe you can sense deceit as well as you can transform matter”

Henry smiled. In truth, he and Carlyle had been childhood friends. In fact, Carlyle was one of the only friends Henry could have since children of the great houses had restricted social lives for security reasons. Both Henry and Carlyle had looked up to Ulysses as a mentor figure. Ulysses was the only man Henry held in higher regard compared to his own father, Wren. And to see him die in such a way had turned his heart into a burning inferno of rage and guilt. Henry knew Carlyle felt the same.

Just as Henry stretched his back in order to ease himself from hours of standing around he once again heard the trumpets sound. But this time they were followed by drums and the cheers of the crowd. Both Henry and Carlyle turned towards the stage, which they could see quite clearly from their position near the edge of the fair grounds. Henry and Carlyle tried their best to blend in with the crowd on the outside. They, reluctantly, clapped when the crowd clapped and both stood next to the regular in order to avoid suspicion. If Carlyle was right then there were Hunters everywhere. Henry wasn’t sure how they’d find him or Carlyle but he wasn’t taking the chance.

The crowd’s wild cheers continued as an ornately dressed band played their instruments for over five minutes. And after they were done Henry saw a man walk up to the stage. A thin, older looking man with glasses and a black suit. Henry recognized him to be the City’s Treasurer, a Mr. Maxwell Harny. Henry saw the man take a deep breath before raising his hand to silence the crowd. Both Henry and Carlyle listened, intrigued at what he had to say.

“MY FELLOW CITIZENS!” the small Treasurer bellowed. The people all stared at him in silence. The Treasurer then took a deep breath and cleared his throat before ginning widely.

“It is my great pleasure to welcome you all here today! For today, on this great day we have gathered here in celebration amidst recent tragedy. Today we have organized this fair to show that despite recent acts of violence this great city stands united. The proceeds of this fair go to charitable causes and it will be a testament to the virtue of the people…”

As the man spoke Henry felt like screaming and laughing at the same time. It was clear that the ‘recent tragedy’ the man so causally spoke of was the bombing. Henry felt like hurling. But still he listened. Henry gazed at Carlyle, who looked equally as disgusted as him. He looked at the man on stage with an unrelenting gaze. He read his mind with utmost focus.

“Well, what thoughts lay behind those words, if I may ask?”

“He doesn’t see the bombing as a tragedy. Which is to be expected. He’s quite annoyed that he has to pretend to think so in front of a crowd. He cannot wait to get off stage”

“I expected as much. These swine are so accustom to lying through their teeth I assume it’s quite normal for them”

Carlyle nodded. But then their attention was once again taken when the man on stage made his voice even louder as he approached the conclusion of his speech. Henry then once again listened because he knew what was coming next.

“So, my dear associates. It is my great pleasure to present to you all or illustrious mayor, MR. VICTOR DEL MIR!”

The crowd erupted into joyous cheer as Victor made his way up to the wooden stage. Even Henry clapped slowly, knowing that he owed him that much for what was about to happen. The Treasurer stepped aside as the mayor too center stage. He outstretched his hands and addressed the crowd with his booming voice.

“My dear denizens of Hatlynshire, it is my honor to speak to you on this wonderful day!” he began. The crowd gave his an enthusiastic clap. Henry had long realized that, for all his horrid deeds, Victor could rally a crowd. A factor that had helped him win the favor of the Grand Prince Montgomery.

“Is our man ready?” he asked form Carlyle, who was staring at Victor. Carlyle immediately took his gaze away from Victor and turned to Henry.

“Yes, he’s in the crowd as we speak. He will strike at the opportune moment”

Henry then turned his sights back to Victor. Knowing that it wasn’t long now.

“As you all may have noticed, this event came quite suddenly. The reason for this being that there was no such event planned until but a few days ago. For I organized this fair in response to the attack upon our city that occurred in Hatles Borough three days ago” he said. Henry found his statements ironic since he knew the full story of what happened. He then saw Victor smile at the Treasures standing next to him. “I at first merely wished to give a statement but Mr. Harny here insisted that, in order to show the unity of our city we should host this grand event. I, of course, thought he was daft!”

The crowd laughed and Mr. Harny smiled. But mayor kept going. “But after much deliberation I agreed to his foolhardy concept and as you all can very clearly see, Mr. Harny ended up being correct in his assumption and has hence made me feel like a fool!”

The crowd laughed again along with Mr. Harny and the mayor. Henry was beginning to doubt whether the laugh was genuine. But then the mayor’s voice became serious. “Now, all jokes aside. I hereby swear to you all that this act will not go unpunished! We will root out the conspirators behind this act of violence and we will make sure that they face justice!”

Carlyle then turned to Henry. “Our man is going for it” he says as he focused on the crowd. “His thoughts tell me that he’s making his way now”

Henry then restlessly turned to the stage. The opportune moment had come. He looked among the crowd for a man in alight yellow suit and hat, for he knew that’s what their man wore.

“What about the Hunters?” he asked no wanting this operation to go wrong.

“As far as I can read, they are still spread out. Only a few are near the stage. But they cannot save the mayor”

Henry took a deep breath. He searched for the man and saw him marching steadily through the crowd. He had consulted the Morrows before coming here, and according to their own words the mayor could not survive this. Henry wanted this to be a spectacle. He wanted his revenge.

He saw the man walk in front of the stage. He saw his wave his hand as Victor spoke. He shouted amongst the crowd to get Victor’s attention. Henry could just barely make out what he was saying.

“Hello? Mr. Mayor! May I have a word with you?” Henry heard the man shout. Victor stopped speaking and looked down to face the man. The crowd went silent. Henry saw Mr. Harny frown and wave to someone behind the stage. Victor leaned down to hear the man. Henry saw the man reach into his coat.

What happened next happened within just a few moments. Henry saw Victor’s face go pale and then he heard the man shout. “THE CIRCLE SENDS IT’S REGARDS” what followed next was a few small flashes of light and some loud bangs as the man pointed a gun at Victor and shot him thrice. Henry saw Mr. Harny bolt away from the stage but the man turned his gun on him and shot him as well. Henry saw Victor and Mr. Harny fall flat on the wooden stage just as men in black cloaks came running in from the back of the stage. The crowd all screamed and dispersed the moment the first shot was fired and they ran in all directions, panicking. Henry saw the men in black cloaks tackle the man to the ground.

It was over. Victor was dead.

Henry knew that the man didn’t want to escape. He saw Carlyle nod, impressed at the performance. He felt bad that they had to give up a man to the wretched Hunters. But in a crude game like the one he and the other members of the Great Houses played, sacrifice was necessary.

“Quite a show, just like you wanted” he said.

“He was a good man. He even managed to shoot down that swine Harny before the Hunters got him”

“Do you think the Grand Overseer will retaliate once he learns that we have dispatched his mayor with such theatricality?”

Henry scoffed and smiled maliciously. Deep down he knew Montgomery was still an issue, a sleeping dragon that would bring chaos if it awoke. But Henry knew the chance were he would keep sleeping. “Let him come. We took are rightful revenge. A life for a life. I don’t think he’ll retaliate too much. But still, we must expect an attack of some proportions"

The crowd all exited the park like herd of frightened bulls. Even the crowd surrounding them began to vacate the area on a hurry. Henry knew that they couldn’t stay there lest they look suspicious. He turned to Carlyle and gestured towards the way leading out of the park with a cheerful smile.

“Well then, Hatly. I suppose we should leave then, eh?” Carlyle gave a small chuckle and smiled back.

“Yes, yes indeed”

Henry and Carlyle then walked out of the park. Carlyle had had their escorts stationed outside the park in a nearby street to avoid suspicion. Henry and Carlyle both walked out the main gate along with the frantic crowd. Henry looked behind him every chance he got, the fear of the Hunters finding them was still lingering within him. Yet both he and Carlyle managed to make it without arousing suspicion. They then separated as they boarded their vehicles before driving off away from the park. Henry pondered what had happened just a few minutes earlier. He still wanted to pull the trigger himself. But he knew now that it was over. He realized that he had now had to turn his attention to the other issues in the Circle, the most important ones being Ulysses’ missing son and what to do about Montgomery's inevitable retaliation. But at that moment he reveled in his satisfaction as much as possible, ignoring all other problems. For to him, he had won.

The Mayor was dead and the Circle had taken its rightful vengeance.

Back to Contents- CLICK HERE

4 notes · View notes