#also I do want to state for the record that I did decapitalize a few words that looked weird capitalized (historical letters are like that)

[martianbugsbunny]

"I have a wife....who is in love with you, and affection for you seems to me so well justified that I can’t oppose myself to that sentiment of hers" and "Tell her (if you have not made a mistake, & offered your own love instead of hers to me) that I have a heart susceptible of the tenderest passion"

Is so Espionage Husbands-core. I mean Talos reminding Nick that Soren loved him was sort of odd (I will allow for the fact that she's recently dead, that makes it a little different), but recontextualizing it like this kinda makes it more intriguing....Also it's catnip to my Espionage Husbands brain.

#btw those are quotes from....shall we say historical letters #and leave it at that #and yes that is their original context the second was a reply to the first to begin with so.... #yeehaw #also I'm still sad for talos that Soren is dead make no mistake #and I'm willing to throuple Soren x Nick x Talos #but I prefer to ship Nick and Talos by themselves #anyway! #espionage husbands #nick fury #talos #nick fury x talos #talos x nick fury #soren #secret invasion #historical letters #also I do want to state for the record that I did decapitalize a few words that looked weird capitalized (historical letters are like that) #and I let autocorrect fix susceptible because in the original letter it was spelled wrong lol #and 'hers' was originally 'her's' so I also fixed that #but I didn't mess with any of the actual words #it's straight quotes #guy 1: my wife loves you #guys 2: you sure you mean your wife and not yourself? #legitimately #martianbugsbunny ships

[paigelts05]

Witch, Seamstress, and MS [FNAF Renegade AU]

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/Witch-Seamstress-and-MS-FNAF-Renegade-AU-907504011

Published: Feb 19, 2022

Renegade AU, Y location characters reference sheet. Abnormal post date but 1 - this has been completed since before the release of Security Breach and I can't keep putting it off and 2 - yes I do have something planned for tomorrow. I needed to make a ref sheet of some characters that show up in my AU. They're pretty important, having been staff at the New York location (Y location) and Paul being another one of the Renegade AUs many phone guys. [I]The Phoenix tallon. A strange café owned by a mysterious man. It's a gathering place for the unnaturally talented and paranormally inclined. Paul Scott Alias: The witch Occupation: Café owner A former employee of Freddy's whose employment was terminated by almost getting killed by the animatronics. He says almost as even though he has a decapitation wound around his neck, he's still alive due to being taken to a strange hospital that in retrospect, may have been a lab. When he was almost killed, his hair had also been cut off at the neck, where his wound is, which makes him wonder how exactly his wounds were inflicted, but he does know that someone had found his hair at Freddy's, so he knows that whatever happened to his neck, it happened at Freddy's. As a Wiccan, he tends to talk to spirits more frequently than most non-posessed, but even they can't answer how he survived his 'Night 4'. He started his café and grew back his hair to try and forget about his former employment, the recordings he made in the fatal role of a phone guy, and the question that always lingers whenever he tries to remember how he survived: how long can the human body survive without a head? Olive Harper Alias: The Seamstress Occupation: seamstress Olive has always been a little bit rebellious. It comes part and parcel with being the little sister. She would always get Ophelia's hand-me-downs, and she'd tailor them to her liking so that she'd be more comfortable wearing them. Despite this, there was no grudge held between the sisters; Ophelia noticed that Olive got her hand-me-downs and begun to get clothes that fit Olive's tastes and didn't wear them so that Olive would get new clothes, as Ophelia already had more than enough. As they grew up, Olive begun to sew her own clothes from pretty much scratch. Whilst a turn from thier usual sneaky routine, Ophelia supported her sisters hoby, and they both supported each others strange love interests. Whilst Ophelia dated more mysterious men, Olive stuck to more strange but less dangerous people. They both had more than a few partners before they found someone they'd want to settle down with. Olive found a feminine man named Paul, who has an interesting taste in fashion who despite his tiny frame, he worked as a security guard for Freddy's. Meanwhile her sister was engaged to a peculiar man who works for the same place, just more higher up and in a different state. Olive and Paul were married in 1992, and whilst Olive was studying to become a professional seamstress, Paul was saving up to start a café. In the meantime, however, they needed money. Olive went to work at a lace factory as a mender, and Paul took up more shifts, including nights, as he was promised a pay rise if he did. Things went well for a while until August 1993. One morning, Paul just didn't come home. Olive knew that something was wrong and asked her sister to see if the person she was engaged to could help her. As Ophelia's fiancé was a head of security who didn't have a specific location despite his lurking around C location, he was able to help and during a busy segment of the day, let Olive sneak backstage. All she found was a bloodied bracelet that had been obscured by a box, but she found nothing else as she didn't want to touch the animatronic suits. Besides, there were no fully put together suits as the rumours suggested, and the room was clean. Clearly, he had been moved from here. She was distraught but didn't show it until she got home. The next few weeks were hell, as she didn't know if she should admit defeat or keep searching. The bracelet seemed to prove that he had been injured, and she was able to use that to file a missing persons report, despite her husband's employers protests. She was able to keep the bracelet as those who handled it reported feeling a weird sense of melancholy and dread - some tangible aura that they didn't want to be around - but Olive didn't get where they were coming from. All she felt was the sense that Paul was still out there somewhere. Two months passed until she got the news that Paul had been found at a hospital. More specifically, he had been transferred to a normal hospital from an unknown 'hospital' that upon further investigation, didn't exist. He was alive, conscious, but had large mysterious wounds and very little memory of the time between the night he vanished and his arrival at the hospital where he was found. Where that fake hospital was and what the wounds all were was all irrelevant to Olive right now; Paul was alive, and they were able to reunite. Meiko Shimamoto Alias: "MS" Occupation: Café staff A young woman who worked at Freddy's in the November of 1993. She was that locations equivalent of a Mike, as Y location was not fortunate enough to get a hundred percent name match on such short notice like C location was. Regardless, Meiko got the job and honestly sometimes wishes her name was different as a result. She was only able to make it through the week thanks to the phone calls left behind by a previous guard, and when she went backstage to check the empty heads as requested on the fourth night, all she found was a sliced off braid of smooth black hair that had been stashed inside a Freddy head. After quitting on night 7 before she even knew she was fired for someone else's tampering (they mailed her the pink slip after failing to hand it to her when she ran off crying that she was never coming back), she started looking for another job. And then she found a café had been opened recently and was being run by a pale looking man with long black hair that looks like it had been hacked off at a length that aligned to where his choker sat on his neck. She trusted her gut as all signs pointed to this man being the same one whose phone calls saved her back at Freddy's.

#2022 #fnaf #fnaf au #FNAF Renegade AU #fnaf fanart #Renegade AU #Renegade AU Ref #Renegade AU main guards ref #phone guy #fnaf phone guy #phoneguy #mike schmidt #fnaf mike #fnaf mike schmidt #each location in the renegade AU has its own set of guards #this location happened to not be able to hire a Mike Schmidt so went with the next best thing they could get #there are multiple phone guy's in this AU #Renegade AU Guards #artists on tumblr

[babymetaldoll]

So happy together II (Spencer Reid / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Frustration and cursing.

Category: Fluff

Summary: After years in the making, Spencer finally asked Reader out, just to bump into reality. They work at the BAU, and psychopaths don’t have a schedule.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Reader

Word count: 2,1K

A/N: Seriously guys, thank you for all the nice comments 🖤  and thank you for requesting part two!!

Part 1

Masterlist

.Here’s the thing about the BAU. It’s a great job, with amazing people, that helps saving lives across the country.

But it doesn’t let you have an everyday life. And less, having dates. Including the date you’ve been waiting for years.

- We’ve got a case

Spencer was on his way to pick up (Y/N) for dinner when he got the text and nearly smashed the phone against the ground.

He knew it wasn’t Penelope’s fault to ruin his evening. She had no idea what she had gotten in the middle of. If she had known, it was most likely she would have caught the unsub by herself, just to let Reid and (Y/N) have their first date in peace.

But no.

Spencer felt a weird mix of anger, frustration, and… relief. Sure, he wanted to go out on a date with the girl he had been in love with for years. Years. What kind of person loves someone for years and never acts on it because of the deepest fear of rejection? Spencer Walter Reid.

But after he asked her out, and after miraculously she said yes, Spencer had no idea what was going to happen. And that was killing him. Statistically, he knew 76% of friendships could end up in a relationship, and 29% of those, in marriage. But he also knew just 51% got their best friend back when things went sour.

That was what scared him the most. Losing his best friend.

Besides, there was something else bothering him. He had no idea what he was doing. He had never been into a relationship. A real one. He had had one girlfriend for a few months when he was in college, and that was it. He didn’t need statistics to know he was most likely to fuck things up. Sure, he had been out on dates in the latest years, but none of those counted as a relationship.

Spencer Reid was looking for reasons to freak out. And he had plenty. He held his phone tight for a few seconds. There was no other way. He had to go to the BAU. 

- “Fuck you!!”- (Y/N) yelled as soon as she read the text from work. She was walking out of the bathroom, ready to go out on the date she had waited for years. And a psychopath had to ruin it all.

Of all days, of all nights, did it have to be that one?

(Y/N) had barely slept the night before. That’s how excited she was about her date with Reid. She even got a new dress. Sure, she was scared things wouldn’t work out, she had been afraid of that for years, but since (Y/N) heard him say “Doyouwannagooutwithme,” she couldn’t wait.

There was so much she wanted to do with Reid. Hold his hand, kiss him until her lips were numb, spend a whole day naked in bed with him. Wrap her arms around him and feel him doing the same as she buried her face against his chest. There was too much love in her heart, and she needed to express it once for all.

That until a psychopath decided it was time to make her life a little worse.

- “Raincheck?”- Spencer texted her, and she just sighed. It was sweet that he texted though she knew he hated it. 

- “We are doomed” 

.

- “There’s been a double homicide and child abduction in Wichita”- Aaron announced, but Reid wasn’t actually listening. His eyes were analyzing (Y/N) ’s face across the table. She looked different that day. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore she had never looked more beautiful. And her beauty was now a magnet for him.

- “Reid?”- Aaron asked and forced him to wake up from his thoughts- “When we get there, I need you and (Y/N) to go talk with the forensic. We need to know everything you can get from the last victim’s body.”

Reid nodded and immediately met her eyes. She just cut him a small smile and blushed. At least they were going to spend some time together.

.

- “Hey”- (Y/N) whispered and sat next to Reid in the jet- How are you?

- “Good, you?”

- “Sleepy…”

- “Do you want me to go get you some coffee?”- it was impossible not to melt at those words. She smiled sweetly at him and shook her head.

- “I’m ok. Do you wanna go through the case files with me?”- that isn’t an exciting invitation: reading about dead people, crime scenes, and police records, except when it’s an invitation made by the one person you love.

Spencer smiled and (Y/N) moved a little closer to him. Closer, so his leg touched hers, and he felt the warmth of her bared skin. Maybe she had worn a skirt on purpose. His hands started sweating in a second. It was weird how he felt he couldn’t control himself around her anymore after just asking her out. They hadn’t been out yet, and now all he could think of was holding her and kiss her.

(Y/N) had problems concentrating, but she knew she had to. All she could see were Spencer’s lips parting, and the way he ran his tongue through them was probably illegal in many states. Besides, the way he raised his eyes to her each time he finished reading a page… he couldn’t look so good for someone who was reading about two men decapitated.

- “Reid?”- Morgan kept chuckling, as he noticed the moment between Spencer and (Y/N)- “Hey! kid!”  

- “Sorry, what?”- Derek shook his head, and Spencer knew right away what his friend was thinking- “So? no random fact about decapitation?”

- “Well… contrary to popular belief, decapitation is not that easy”- Derek asked for random, and random is what he got, ‘cos that was the first and only thing Spencer could come up with at that moment.

- “You don’t often hear “popular” and “decapitation” in the same sentence”- Rossi added and continued reading the files.

.

Despite the fact they were dealing with a hard case and that their heads were focused entirely on it, (Y/N) and Spencer managed to spend a little time together the three days they spent in Wichita. They would get coffee together in the morning and bring cupcakes to the team. 

Hotch was nice enough to set them together most of the time. They had no idea it was Aaron’s way to push them together. They even walked back to the hotel together once, just talking about all the silly random things they would always talk about. Just that now they would just stare in silence every once in a while. Both of them thinking about how it would feel to kiss. It was like their lips were calling each other.

And all just from one “Doyouwanngooutwithme”

.

The case was finally solved - luckily, it only took three days, for a moment (Y/N) thought it was going to take forever- and they were all on the jet again, ready to go back home.

Everybody was exhausted and in silence, most of them sleeping. (Y/N) made herself a cup of tea and sat alone at the back of the plane. It was hard each time they closed a case, ‘cos taking their minds off from all the darkness and murder wasn’t easy. Every time they traveled back home, she had a list of things to think about. All the things that made her happy. Her cat, her little nephew, to walk Lizzy with Reid, talk with Reid, laugh with Reid, watch movies with Reid.

It was time to face it: Reid was her list. He was the one person that could always make her happy.

- “Hey, what are you thinking?”- and speak of the devil, Reid sat next to her and smiled sweetly.

- “I was just… trying not to think about the case anymore”- technically, she wasn’t lying- “And you? what are you reading?”

Spencer sighed and showed her “The complete fiction of HP Lovecraft,” the book she had given him a few weeks ago, out of the blue, just because she loved the author and… and Reid.

- “Nice, how many times have you read it in these few days”

- “Five…”

There were many, many things Spencer could have added to that simple word. But he couldn’t, his brain shut off. There they were, the lips he wanted to kiss (and bite), smiling back at him. He couldn’t think. 

- “So… too bad we couldn’t go out for dinner”- (Y/N) felt a little embarrassed to bring it up. Still, someone had to do it anyway. They had danced around the subject those days, just smiling and blushing when they were together.

- “Yeah… too bad… I had reservations at this amazing place”- Reid felt like a dork after hearing himself, but he couldn’t just unsay it.

- “Yeah, well… anyway…”- and so, again, they just stared.

- “Doyouwannagofordinnerwithmewhenwegethome?”- and though he was whispering and slurring at the same time, (Y/N) managed to hear and understand what he was trying to say.

- “Now?”

- “Yeah… I know it’s late, but I know this great place...”

- “We are not eating chicken tandoori again”- she answered immediately- “You’ve dragged me to that place twenty-two times in the latest years… and before you ask, no, I didn’t count them, I’m just trying to make a point”

He smiled and nodded. There had been sixteen times, he knew it, but for once, he thought it wasn’t necessary to add that fact.

.

Paperwork was done and ready around ten. And though they were exhausted, both (Y/N) and Spencer were excited about their date. Only one detail. Spencer was nowhere to be seen.

- “Are you coming, (Y/N)?”- Prentiss asked as she walked to the elevator

- “Yeah, in a second, I just have to... “- and the phone on her desk rang

- “See you tomorrow, I guess!”- Emily waved and disappeared.

- “Hello?”

- “S.S.A. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), there’s someone here looking for you”- the call was coming from the front desk.

- “Who?”- that was new

- “Doctor Spencer Reid, he says he is here to pick you up for your date”- (Y/N) just giggled nervously and said she’ll be right there. She was drained after the case, and she didn’t look half as hot as she did on the dress she had gotten for their official date, but she was going to go out with Spencer, and that was what really mattered.

The elevator didn’t take her to the first floor fast enough, and she would have run over if she hadn’t felt her knees weaken.

Spencer Reid felt like a dork, but he was a happy dork. He had managed to call a florist’s, and they delivered a dedicated bouquet of (Y/N) ’s favorite flowers just on time. He was waiting for her standing in the middle of the lobby, smiling and looking straight at the elevator door. His heart just skipped a beat when he saw her walking over, slower than usual. She wanted to run to him, but she didn’t trust her legs. She had never been more nervous on a date before. 

- “Hi”- she whispered and giggled as she stood in front of him

- “Hi”- both of them let out a sigh and smiled at each other

- “The call was a nice touch”- (Y/N) said and turned to the front desk. The receptionist smiled and waved.

- “I had to make it an official date, even when we are here, which reminds me, these are for you”- Spencer was smoother than he realized, ‘cos (Y/N) was nearly melting at each one of his words.

- “Thank you”

- “So, ready to go?”- she nodded and held his arm as they walked- “Wait, there is just one thing I need to do before we leave”- Spencer stopped walking suddenly and (Y/N) looked a little confused

- “Did you forget something back at your desk?”

- “No, I just”- but he didn’t say another word. He just cupped her face with both hands and sweetly kissed her. (Y/N) held her breath in shock. Spencer was kissing her. Spencer Reid was kissing her. It was actually happening. 

His lips rubbed hers slowly as she reciprocated the kiss. It felt sweet and warm and tender, though slowly, as the kiss deepened, they could feel the passion hidden in them.

Despite the fact neither of them wanted to, they slowly moved apart and sighed. Reid rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes for a second, trying to put himself together. That kiss got him higher than Dilaudid had ever done.

- “I didn’t see that coming”- she whispered and giggled

- “I’m sorry”- he whispered, feeling embarrassed

- “Don’t be”

- “I just knew I wasn’t going to focus on anything else but kissing you for the rest of the night… so I thought it was better to do it right now”

- “It was a good idea, I was going to do the same… so… dinner”- (Y/N) smiled at Spencer and held his hand tight. He nodded and started walking. But she stooped him

- “What is it?”- but instead of talking, she just kissed him again, and this time, she wrapped his arms around her tight.

- “Ok, now I’m ready.”

Taglist:

@shilohpug

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #why am I such a nerd for fluff #criminal minds fanfics #matthew gray gubler fanfic #mgg fics #spencer reid x reader #fluff #babymetaldoll writes

[alicia-kingdom]

Uchiha Center Part 2

_._._._._._. A FEW HOURS BEFORE_._ _._._._ UCHIHA COMPOUND

Oh, Uchiha Izuna was pissed. How can he not be? Months have passed since the blood moon incident, his cute little troublemaker Kagami has yet to stop spreading the awesome tale of how the white goddess came alongside her 5 leopards and save him and the group that was kidnaped. At first, nobody listen to Kagami, the Elders demanded complete silence regarding Senju Tobirama and her involvement in saving the kids. After all, they can't have the complete clan, a clan who values children more than anything, know the enemy saved their precious children. Amateratsu-sama forbids her clan to have another reason to enter into peace agreements with the filthy Senjus. What the Elders never consider or just forgot was that little Kagami had as much blood as any Uchiha and as stubborn as his eldest cousins (some may say he was even more than Izuna and Madara at that age) and he spread the word and now, by his side the other kids who were kidnaped. All of them shouting praises to the "White Angel" or "Leopard Lady" and demanding any adult that hears them let them meet her one more time to thank her. This, of course, causes a domino effect. The kids told the story to anyone who listens, and of course, because adults are idiots, they told them to other kids who now were extremely curious and jealous and want to meet this White Goddess. What do you get from all of that, you asked? Well, you get the Clans whole new generation demanding the White Demoness be their sensei and guardian. Well, it seems there will be peace eventually. Now. Why was Izuna so pissed off? Sure, having the new Uchiha generation been evangelized by Kagami was annoying, but worth it to see those Elders' faces go red in rage but can't lift a finger against any children if they want their heads to remain in their necks. So nope, this was not why Izuna was pissed of. It was a more simple and annoyingly complicated subject. An Uchiha Center, and not any Uchiha Center, but his own brother and clan head Uchiha Center. Turns out Senju Tobirama, his rival, his annoying thorn in his side, his pain in the ass enemy was his brother's center. Of course, he knew how this could be a very good thing for Madara, he still dreams of peace and a village where no children die, no women bury her son or daughter, no Uchiha losses his or her Center. This could be the solution and the door that could lead all of that. Izuna was not on board with that idea, but that...this was his brother Center after all. The complicated thing was...that his brother has spent way too much time away from his Center. An Uchiha Center is, and always will be, an Uchiha most hoped dream, but if not careful, will also turn into their worst curse. When an Uchiha finds its Center, the Uchiha must spend at least the first month by their Centers side. This allows the Soulbond to establish, also allows the Uchiha member to explore the new sensations that come with finding their Center, but most importantly, allows their Chakra to stabilize. If not, it could have negative effects on the Uchiha. Deterioration. The Chakra inside the Uchiha slowly starts consuming them. Uchihas are been of fire, their chakra is known to be hotter than normal shinobis. In the first 2 months, the Uchiha will have no visible symptoms but they will feel excruciating pain inside of them. By the 4 months, high fever and hallucinations will follow. No one knows for sure what one may see in them, always varies from person to person, but it always revolves around the Center...and mostly in a very bad way. About the 7 months, the once Uchiha soul would be almost completely consumed by their chakra. You would have on your hands only the shell of a person. They lose the ability to talk, or even acknowledge anything around them. Madara, it seems the idiot shut up about knowing who his Center was and now was in bed with a really high fever and, it seems, staying with hallucinations. Calling for her, looking for her desperately. So much, he almost attacks Kyouka, and almost decapitated him, believing they were planning to take Tobirama away from him, hide her in a place where no one will find her. "Izuna...I must get ready...she will come soon..." Madara whispered sleepily. They had to give him/force sedidate on him. Hikaku and Izuna looked at each other worryingly. "What do we do now?" Asked Hikaku once Madara was asleep. It was dangerous to leave him completely alone. "I think there is only one answer..." responded the Uchiha heir. "We are not going to like it, right?" Asked Kyouka. "Probably not, but is the only way to save him..." sign Izuna, standing up and leaving, murmuring about annoying rival-stealing older brothers.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- NAKA RIVER -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I must say, I was surprised by your urgent message," said Hashirama completely confuse and curious about the sudden summon from his best friend little brother, and little sister rival. "If I may ask, what was the urgent matter you wanted to talk about?" "About a cease-fire agreement between Uchiha and Senju Clans" stated Izuna directly, crossing his arms and looking completely serious.

He could feel her. He could feel her Chakra, her essence, her soul calling him, screaming for him, demanding his presence. A few hours ago he woke up from the annoying drug, his mind somewhat clear. He asked Hikaku and Kyouka for some food and water. He needed them out of his way, his Center was calling him. He needed to answer. He could feel her hesitation and disappointment as more time passes without answering her call. He slowly reached her chakra with his, teasing her, letting her know he will answer, he will find her. After those annoying obstacles left, he quickly (and kind of dizzily) left his compound, summoning all his chakra to move faster. He could feel his body a little bit heavy than usual but nothing to concern himself. His only goal was to reach her Center.

"I'm sorry...what did you just say?" Asked Hashirama, blinking innocently while staring at Izuna, who just looked pissed off. "You heard me," was the Uchiha only response. "I-I just..." once Hashirama could slowly register the words Izuna said, he turns serious. Before Izuna was not the goofy Hashirama, but the Clan Head from the Senju of the Forest. "Please forgive me, but you must understand my confusion, especially after you have scream to everyone who could listen how peace was a tramp" "Don't get your facts to mix up. I never talk about a peace agreement or your silly little village, I said a cease-fire agreement." Quickly corrected Izuna. "Either way, I must ask, what made you change your mind?" Asked curiously Hashirama, returning to his sunny side. "My brother, he...he needs something important, and he can only obtain it by a cease-fire between our clans" somewhat explain Izuna. All Uchihas are taught to never reveal the Uchiha Center to anyone, for enemies can take advantage of the gift. "Madara?! Is he sick?! I can heal him!" Quickly offer Hashirama. Such a good-hearted person. "Its not something you could heal, but you can help him by accepting the cease-fire agreement" stated Izuna. "My clan is ready to accept a cease-fire" assured the tall man "but how are you gonna make your Elders accept this agreement?" "Once my brother gets Tobirama, they will have no option but accept," answered Izuna. For a second, the Uchiha heir forgot who exactly was he talking to...and boy, was that a big mistake. "What do you mean 'once he gets Tobirama'?" Asked Hashirama slowly, very slowly.

His body was feeling so hot but so relieved now. Before he was that water body where he discovers the White Goddess was his Center. Before he was Tobirama bathing so slowly and sensually. She knew he was there. Oh, she did know, but she never gave any indication that she cared. Her chakra was still calling for him, and now he answered. Finally, finally, he allowed his chakra to run free, to mix with hers. He heard her moan in absolute pleasure, her head throwback a little bit. She wanted more and he gave her more. Oh! Those sounds were going directly to his dick, she was a siren enchanting him with her songs. She slowly turns to look at him, walking towards him, allowing his Sharingan to record her nude body, how her pale skin shone with the blue moon behind her, how her white hair fell like a cascade, how her red tattoos run through all of her body. Her red eyes show nothing but pleasure, enjoyment, and contentment. Blessed Amateratsu for the Sharingan. This was a sight Gods would kill to see. She was a true masterpiece. Suddenly, her chakra was filled with nothing but horror and embarrassment. She let a little scream scape her pink limps as she let her body fall into the water, letting her element cover her beauty. His Sharingan instantly turn into the Mangekyou, looking, searching for those who dared scare his Center, who dare look at the beauty that Madara was destined to. Who was the fucking morron that dare to-- "HI COOL WHITE LADY!! IM KAGAMI!! YOU ARE SOOOOOO COOL! CAN YOU TEACH ME THOSE COOL JUTSUS!? WHY ARE YOUR EYES RED?? THEY ARE VERY PRETTY!!" screamed excitedly Kagami from Madara's shoulder, at the top of his lungs. What the fuck?! "Ka-Kagami?!" Called surprised (and very angry) Madara, looking at his student that was on his shoulder. How the fuck did this little brat got there?! "What are you doing here?!" Demanded Madara, taking the kid by his shirt collar and getting him off his shoulder. "Papa told me to watch over you when he went for food, but as soon he left you were also leaving through the window, so I climb in your back before you left," he explained innocently to the cute child. "Ne, why are you naked? Are you training? Is Madara-sama helping you train? Can I train? Do I have to get naked too?" Huh...so that was why his body felt heavier than usual...

So many questions, Madara was feeling a migraine now that his Chakra was not trying to kill him and his instinct somewhat calmed. Wait? Naked? Oh...My...Fucking...God... Quickly, he took the edge of Kagami shirt and pulled it up in a way where the child will have trouble fixing it. He may be a child, but Tobirama was still his Center and only he can see her naked. Besides...if the glaring and killing intent was telling him something, was that his white angel was NOT happy. At. Fucking. All. "U-Uhm..." "Just pass me my clothes" she demanded coldly. That should not be a turn-on. Blushing, Madara just follows. An uncomfortable silence follows by the exception of Kagami who was still fighting his shirt and whining about it, all until a scream, a very feminine scream echo through the forest. "Isn't that...?" "Izuna?!"

#madara uchiha #Tobirama Senju #female tobirama #kick-ass female tobirama #nudity #fanfic #madatobi #ao3fic #humor #kagami uchiha #alicia's kingdom

[space-girl-and-droids-art]

Clone Wars: Stories of Light and Dark- Book Review

“Clone Wars: Stories of Light and Dark” Is an anthology of stories narrating some of the arcs of the clone wars from the perspective of the characters. It gives more details and depth to some episodes, as well as giving us information that makes us have a different view of the events.

This is not exactly a review, but mostly my reactions to reading the book. I do recommend it, if you loved the clone wars and want another perspective on some of the arcs this will be a good read. That said, this does contain spoilers for the clone wars.

#1 “Sharing the same Face” -Jason Fry (from the episode “Ambush”)

Okay this was once one of the most light-hearted episodes of the series and now I ended up crying. I did not expect an order 66 reference here. Every time Yoda addresses Dooku is painful. Seeing how Yoda perceives the clones is really heart-warming, but knowing how it all turns out in the end is really sad and during the whole text you are really aware of that. In the show you kind of forget about what’s going to happen for a while, but this text just keeps you thinking about it constantly. It was a good read, I loved it. I found it really interesting knowing Yoda approaches the clones the same way he approached his students at the temple, and knowing what his opinions on the clone army it was a good detail. Loved this one.

Did I care that much about this episode before? No. But watching it right after reading this made me cry for half an hour. (I am a really emotional person, so take this with a grain of salt.)

#2 “Dooku Captured”- Lou Anders (From the episodes “Dooku Captured” and “Gungan General”.

This was a funny read, and the fact that the events are narrated by Dooku Himself made it even more hilarious. It’s supposedly a holorecording Dooku was doing for Sidious, and you can tell by his words that he was so done. Poor Dooku deserves a meditation day after it. You can tell how annoyed he was by the whole situation and his perception of Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. They really are bothering for the count. I’m surprised he didn’t retire after this event, man’s gotta be really tired. Also, when they were tied together, they just shared a braincell and most of the time, Dooku was the one carrying it. The love he had for Qui-Gon does not extend to rest of the lineage, clearly.

At first it was really slow, but after they get captured by the pirates it just gets funnier. Good story to read after the sadness the previous text gave me.

Also, the fact that Dooku canonically records himself venting to Sidious is hilarious to me. Like, can you imagine being Palpatine and receiving daily vlogs from your apprentice ranting and complaining about Anakin and Obi-Wan? Dude was tired, of course he would let Anakin decapitate him in the end.

#3 “Hostage Crisis”- Preeti Chhibber (from the episode “Hostage Crisis”)

For an Anidala shipper this is a must read, because you will know exactly what Anakin thinks of his wife and how he views Padmé. This text was more Anakin centric (I believe the next one is Padmé centric) and it was a delight. I haven’t read much in canon about stuff that involves Anakin’s feelings so this was really good.

The scene from the beginning of the episode? Is hotter when you read it, trust me. For a clearly SFW text, this was intense. I’m pretty sure I can guess all of Anakin’s kink only by what was implied in his thoughts. Is also really sweet to see how much she cares, but also know why everything went downhill at the end. Good retelling.

#4 “Pursuit of Peace”- Anne Ursu (from the episodes “Heroes on both sides” and “Pursuit of Peace”)

I really love Padmé Amidala. My favorite senator. If you have seen my review of Queen’s Peril you KNOW How much I love her, and even when this text was written by another author, I still got the same feeling about her. Padmé is amazing. This arc is one of my favorite of the Clone wars because it’s the arc that let you see that it wasn’t a black and white kind of situation, both sides were being played. An none of them were really worrying about their people, they were in it for the money. I love reading Padmé’s thoughts on the whole situation. Also, the way this story is written makes what went down with Padmé and Anakin in the third episode make more sense and more in character. She is a strong, good, and smart politician. But she is also motivated to see the light in the dark and preserve the light, it gave me major Qui-Gon from “Master and Apprentice” vibes. It did make me tear up a little, because when I finished it, I realized everything she did was for nothing. She was too kind in a galaxy already so corrupted.

Also, Palpatine stop calling her “my child” you disgusting sith lord, I know you are responsible for her death and so do you, so shut the f up. Padmé was doing everything right and she hasn’t done anything wrong in her life whatsoever.

“Just because there’s darkness in something does not mean you do not love it. You show it love, you show it light, and you hope it chooses the light”.

She was talking about the senate but you just KNOW she isn’t really talking about the senate.

This story re-telling broke me, just as the first one. I am not ready for the next one. Do I have to? Man, I really don’t want to go through Umbara again.

#5 “The Shadow of Umbara” -Yoon Ha Lee (from the episodes "Darkness on Umbara," "The General," "Plan of Dissent," and "Carnage of Krell”)

I was, indeed, not ready for it. It doesn’t really add much to the story… except pain. Rex’s pain, to be precise. Let my man mourn Hardcase :C I just wanted to give him a hug, him and all of the clones to be honest. Fives was as good as always, but re-reading his lines knowing what happens to him made me sad. I hate Pong Krell, get you dirty hands off my babies. I don’t think this re- telling made me sadder, but that’s only because it was just as painful as the episodes.

Dogma my beloved, you deserve everything.

I love how this arc develops Rex character and his attitude towards the war in general.

#6 “Bane’s Story”- Tom Angleberger (from the episodes “Deception”, “Friends and Enemies”, “The Box” and “Crisis on Naboo”.)

Is Cad Bane the Regina George of the Bounty Hunters?

The answer is yes. Yes, he is.

I wasn’t really excited to read about Cad Bane at first, I felt that everything that had to be said about the guy had already been stated in the show. He was just a mean bounty hunter in space. But this was actually pretty funny to read, specially because it’s narrated in first person from Bane’s perspective on what happened with Kenobi. And it’s hilarious.

He is basically re telling the events to Boba and Bossk while he is in jail again. During his story you can learn a few things about him as well, specially what his thoughts are in relation to some important topics. You would think he is only concerned about the money and blasting people, and you would be right. But he also does have an opinion on what’s happening on the galaxy at large, on the jedi, on Palpatine and Dooku. But those opinions don’t affect how he gets the job done. It was really interesting seeing him internally judging Kenobi for being a liar, and knowing something is wrong with the jedi order if they pulled that off. He knows everyone is being deceived, but doesn’t know how. That’s why he doesn’t care, and doesn’t get involved on anything unless you offer to pay him. Money moves him, but not the people who has it.

It was a good story, and I also liked to see how Bane respects Boba and sees him as the one that’s going to take his place eventually.

We know from the deleted episodes that Cad Bane was supposed to be killed by Boba Fett, but we haven’t seen that in canon yet. I really hope they answer what happened to Cad Bane in the current canon, I would love to see that in a comic, or in a book.

#7 “The lost nightsister”- Zoraida Cordova (from the episode “Bounty”)

I love Asajj Ventress for a million reasons and this story just made me love her even more. It’s the same story from the episodes but with an insight of what Ventress is thinking about. Which is unsurprisingly very depressing but the story itself turns out to be pretty uplifting.

It’s about her thoughts on what happened after the massacre of her sisters, her family, and how she deals with everything she had already lost. How lonely and worthless she feels. But during the course of the story, we see her reconnecting with who she is, and learning her value. Learning she is a powerful person, master or not.

It was also really sad to see how she compared herself to others. She was really sad and angry that nobody cared about what happened to her people, no one that cared about her. She saw how people wanted the girl in the box back and thought about how nobody would ever do the same for her and it was sad.

I also find very depressing that she couldn’t mourn her family.

But then she said this:

“What made her so special? What made her worth—No. She couldn’t think that way. This girl’s worth didn’t diminish her own. “

And like, I’m 100% rooting for her here.

Also, I love that once she realized the girl from the box was being smuggled to be essentially a child bride, she didn’t hesitate to scam the old creep. She may be an assassin, but during the course of this story you learn that she is disgusted by men who take advantage of female beings. I also love her internal monologue after the guy was bothering her in the cantina and how she just knows that if she can defend herself, she will do it with no hesitation.

Lovely story, I love knowing more about Ventress. Beautifully written.

#8"Dark Vengeance”-Rebecca Roanhorse (from the episodes "Brothers" and "Revenge")

It’s so on brand for Darth Maul to have his entire story be about Kenobi. It’s narrated by him, but directed towards you, like he is telling the reader a story. That in some stories could be like an awkward thing, but here it was well done. I love Maul and like, I could picture us having that conversation, well, me listening to him monologuing.

I really liked that he started telling the story from the events that happened on Naboo. You get to really see what happened from his perspective and understand why his hatred of Kenobi only grows over time.

Also, Darth Maul was like “I can excuse murder, but I draw the line at being rude”. Which is so morally wrong, but very fitting to his character. He is really upset at Kenobi for not caring about what happened to him. From what I gathered of the info that he let us know, he would probably like it more if Kenobi killed him instead of having to spend all those years in the garbage. Nobody cared for him enough to go and check up on what happened to him. That doesn’t excuse murder though.

The interactions he had with Kenobi let us know that it was not very jedi like the way he treated Maul, ignoring his rage and letting it consume him. Obi-wan just kept adding fuel to the fire because he was also really angry at Maul for the murder of Qui-Gon, not realizing that that would only make Maul be even angrier. And we know how that ended up for Satine Kenobi.

Final thoughts: Savage, I love you.

#9 "Almost a Jedi"-Sarah Beth Durst (from the episode "A Necessary Bond")

I thought this story was going to be from Ahsoka’s point of view. It was not.

I’m not mad at it though.

The story itself does focus on Ahsoka but it’s narrated by Katooni. It’s basically about how much she adores Ahsoka and wants to be like her, but also doubts herself a lot. She thinks she is not good enough to be a jedi. But her experiences both with Ahsoka and with Hondo Ohnaka makes her change her mind.

I want to say that I love the fact that it’s canon that she drew a poster of Ahsoka for her room because she really admired her that much it's so wholesome. It’s cute, and also let us see the perception the younglings had of Ahsoka.

Also, the bond between Hondo and Katooni is really wholesome. This also made me realize that this encounter with a young jedi is the reason he is immediately friendly with Ezra in Rebels. Ezra and Katooni do share similar personality traits sometimes.

Deep diving in Wookiepedia after reading this I found out that Hondo’s ship in Galaxy’s Edge is called “The Katooni” and now I’m sad thinking he was probably devastated when he learnt about Order 66 and what Vader did to the younglings. Great now I’m angsty about a chaotic evil space pirate.

I think it was confirmed by Dave Filoni that those kids are dead now. May the force be with them, they were good enough jedis.

#10 "Kenobi's Shadow"-Greg van Eekhout (from the episode "The Lawless”)

This is the re-telling of one of the saddest clone wars episodes. The episode just lets you think that everything’s going to be alright, that they are going to survive together, lets you hope that they take off just in time… and then it doesn’t happen. I’m still not over Satine’s death. And this made it even sadder. There were so many points their story could’ve gone differently, but their story was already at an end.

This is in third person but heavily focusing on Kenobi’s thoughts along the way. He really was close to turn to the dark side, but his love for Satine and his grief made him not surrender to it. But he felt an anger, a justified one, but an anger that I have never seen in a jedi other than Anakin Skywalker. And we all know what happens to him.

It was a good but sad reading. I won’t be reading this one again. It’s too much. I knew what was going to happen and it still hit me hard. I wish things would’ve gone differently for the both of them. I wonder if we will get flashbacks to this in the Kenobi show.

Also, I really need an Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine book of their time on the run.

#11 "Bug"-E. Anne Convery (inspired by the episode "Massacre”)

I can’t talk openly about this story because it’s not actually featured on the clone wars. It’s a really good story, specially if you want to expand on the lore regarding Dathomir and the Nightsister in the new canon. It’s perfectly executed, and even when the story isn’t about any of the main characters it hooked me from start to finish. Definitely one of my favorite stories of the book and If I had to pick one story from this anthology to read again it would be this one.

It has more gruesome details than the others and the atmosphere is dark, and I loved it. I would read a whole Dathomirian Nightsister novel written by this author if it was in this exact same style. I really liked it a lot.

In summary, I really enjoyed reading this Anthology. I would really recommend it to anyone who is fond of the Clone Wars or the prequels era. Adults, Kids, Teens, Young adults. I think I would’ve enjoyed this book as a kid as well, and I enjoyed it a lot now in my early twenties. It contains a little bit of everything and that makes it a really complete anthology.

#star wars books #book review #clone wars #the clone wars #star wars #hondo ohnaka #ahsoka tano #swtcw #assajj ventress #darth maul #ventress #feral opress #dooku #kenobi #anakin skywalker #prequel trilogy #tcw #yoda #clone wars stories of light and dark #star wars novels

[gendercraft]

Outlast: Revisited [Chapter One: Miles]

Synopsis: I’m rewriting Outlast where the first game and Whistleblower are combined, Miles and Waylon are more connected, and also they kiss

Mount Massive Asylum was a silhouette ahead of the setting sun. Against the red and orange and white in the sky, Mount Massive was all dark brick and covered windows. Half of the building had flickering light peeking out from slats and cracked curtains, and the rest was pitch black. 

    Miles opened the car door and planted one boot on the dirt, brows furrowed. He came with only his camcorder, a few spare batteries, a notebook, and the email he was sent: 

     You don’t know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring. 

     I did 2 weeks of software consult at MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems’ facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA’s I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys. 

     Certainly enough to grab Miles’ attention. When most people heard he was an investigative reporter, they treated him with what they thought was respect. All talking in circles and stepping over eggshells. This person emailing him—they had something to say and they were going to make sure Miles was listening. 

     Terrible things happening there. Don’t understand it. Don’t believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountains. People are being hurt and Murkoff is making money. 

     It needs to be exposed. 

     A fall breeze brushed by, making Miles shiver under his brown jacket. He flipped the collar up. 

    He was prepared for a facility up and running, for patients and orderlies to interview. This place looked abandoned. 

    Miles poked around the empty building where someone should be there to open the gate from, but the computer was frozen and there was nothing. 

    The gate—for humans, not cars—creaked as it opened. Securing his notebook and the hard copy of his email in the inside pocket of his jacket, he raised his camera and headed inside. Mount Massive loomed over him as he stalked towards the front entrance. Military trucks lined the walkway. 

    What the fuck happened here? 

    He pulled out his notebook and scribbled a stream of consciousness: 

     I start feeling sick just looking at this place. Mount Massive Asylum, shut down amid scandal and government secrecy in 1971, reopened by Murkoff Psychiatric Systems in 2009 under the guise of a charitable organization. Cell phone reception cut off abruptly a mile out, more like a jammer than a lost signal. The Murkoff Corporation has a long track record of disguising profit as charity. But never on American soil. Whatever they thought they could get out of this place has to be big. Might finally be the story that breaks the bastards. 

     The front entrance was locked. He blew out a frustrated breath and looked around to find another spot in the fence, allowing him into a tiny courtyard with a fence and scaffolding up along the walls. He looked through his camera and zoomed in—there was an open window. He grimaced. 

    He didn’t want to go back to when he was a teenager, sneaking into empty buildings through crumbling walls and broken windows, but he didn’t see much of a choice. He had to get inside. 

    He got the same thrill he always had when he was younger to climb and leap over the scaffolding until he reached the window. The second his feet hit the ground, the light exploded. He gasped and covered his head as glass rained on the carpet. 

    Raising the camcorder, he flicked on the nightvision, then winced. 

    What the fuck happened here? 

    The room was empty, the furniture all turned over and piled up. Miles strained his ears, but the asylum was silent. He crept his way over to the door and peeked inside the hallway. Both sides were barricaded, giving way only to the room across the hall. This room was a bit more normal, lit up by the light streaming through the hall and the thin curtains. He looked around for any clue of what happened here, but nothing. There was a second door letting him into the hall past the barricade. 

    He was about to squeeze through a gap between the next barricade, when he faltered. 

    Is that fucking blood? 

    He pulled up his camcorder and zoomed in. Sure enough, blood splattered the wall and stained the carpet. There was no sign of a body. He swallowed and pushed forward. I have to find out what happened here. 

    In one of the rooms, he found a status report for a patient named Billy. Most of the words Miles didn’t understand most of the words, but he could connect it to the email; ‘lucid dream states,’ ‘the blood dreams of Doctor Trager,’ and something called a ‘MORPHOGENIC ENGINE.’ 

    Something Miles found interesting, part of an interview with the patient: 

        Billy asked about the status of his mother’s lawsuit against Murkoff and the asylum...catastrophic breach in security...all orderlies and security personnel must be questioned and video security improved…

        Signed ‘MURKOFF PSYCHIATRIC SYSTEMS PROJECT WALRIDER

    MOUNT MASSIVE CO’ 

     The first sign of life Miles was given was a bathroom door shutting as he approached. He hesitated, then rapped on the wood. 

    “Hello? My name is Miles Upshur, I’m an investigative reporter. May I ask you some questions, please?” 

    No answer. He shifted uncomfortably. “Uh… okay then. I’ll be around if you change your mind.” 

    The next door was locked, but across the hall there was a small kitchen. He did a quick once-over, then stopped at the counter by the fridge—is that a fucking— is that an organ— is that a fucking organ on a tray? Right next to a fucking soda can. Miles’ stomach lurched. It was long and thin, flesh coloured, veins of blood smearing onto the silver tray. 

    I have to find out what’s going on here. I have to expose it. 

    The only way was up, into a ventilation shaft. As soon as he got inside, someone burst into the room, looked around frantically, and ran out. Miles barely caught them with his camera. His heart was ready to beat right out of his chest. 

    “Fuck,” he whispered, panting. “Fuck this.” 

    He got to the end of the shaft and paused. It dropped too far for him to get back up if he decided he had to leave. With the blood, the fucking soda organ, was it worth it? Was this worth risking his life? 

    What if he didn’t have enough evidence? What if he couldn’t convince the police to come? What if the public thought it was a joke? 

    Closing his eyes, he jumped down. 

    Creeping along to the first door, he threw it open and a body hung from the ceiling. He stumbled back with a gasp. It was bloodied and pale, and Miles watched, horrified, as it smacked to the floor. He covered his mouth and forced himself into the library, eyes burning. 

    Keep your camera raised. No matter what you do, keep your camera raised. 

    The library was a maze of pushed over bookcases, the righted ones holding decapitated heads. Their mouths were gaped open, eyes blank and bloodshot. He crept forward. In the light of a window, a body sat impaled on a pole, still slowing sliding down. Blood caked the metal. It smelled of rust and decaying meat, and Miles was quickly losing his resolve. He stepped forward and the body, the man, gasped and reached out, choking on his own blood. 

    “They killed us,” he gasped. “They got out. The… Variants.” 

    Miles watched with wide eyes. A few tears ran down his face, but he kept recording. 

    “You can’t… fight them. You have to hide… can unlock the main doors… from Security Control.” He desperately tried to crawl himself up the pipe. “You have to get the fuck out of this terrible place. Stay away from the north, it’s… it’s chaos.” 

    Miles dropped the camera and leapt forward to help pull him off, but the moment he pushed up, the man lurched, screamed, and fell dead. Miles stumbled back with shaking hands, his palms red and sticky. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. 

    He pulled out his notebook. 

     I’m inside. Bodies everywhere. Blood. Burn marks. Heads lined up like bottles behind a bar, Dead Murkoff scientists hung from the ceiling; their badges say “Murkoff Advanced Research Systems.” Murkoff’s longtime M.O. has been to profit off the exploitation of supposed charity. Fuck the third world and bankroll another billion. 

     How did Murkoff think they would make money off a building full of the mentally ill? 

     There’s some kind of tactical cop pinned like a pig on a spit. Tells me to get the fuck out then dies. Would have been a good thing to hear when I could still leave the way I came. 

     He lowered the notebook. His chest was tight, tight, too tight, he couldn’t breathe. He sucked in a deep breath. He hadn’t had panic attacks since he was a teenager, but he couldn’t blame himself, not this time. 

    He slid his notebook in his pocket and picked up his camera. 

    He left the library. The second floor of the Administration Block was an atrium, one floor wrapped around the carved out middle where reception was below. He got to the ground. He was not safe here. He couldn’t be seen. He switched out his battery and recorded himself moving forward. Another barricade blocked the hall, but there was a gap he could squeeze through if he could just… 

    “Little pig!” 

    A thick hand grabbed the back of his neck like someone picking up the scruff of a kitten. Burning pain ripped through his skin as a hulking figure yanked him out of the gap. Miles barely got a glimpse, but at first, he did not register it as human. His nose was smashed in, and there was a giant chunk ripped out of his forehead. He bared his teeth, a huge row of shark fangs, then threw Miles through the glass atrium. He smacked against the reception floor, and blacked out. 

    xxx 

    “And who are you, then?” 

    He blinked his eyes open, his head pounding, his entire body throbbing. A bald man in vestments stared at him, a flashlight blinding him. His face was full of wrinkles, with full cupid lips and wide set eyes. Miles groaned and dropped his head back to the ground. 

    “I… I see.” The man held Miles’ camera. “Merciful God, you have sent me an apostle. Guard your life, son, you have a calling.” 

    xxx 

    When he woke up again, the man was gone. 

    He tried hard to remember what happened between his blackout, but it was hard, like a dream he couldn’t quite get a hold of. He gripped his throbbing head. All he knew was he had to get to Security Control. 

    There was more carnage in the reception area. A handful of dead bodies absolutely eviscerated, their guts painting the ground. The smell was something worse than Miles had ever witnessed in his life. Some cops had told him you’d never smell anything worse than a dead body, or anything close to it. Miles knew now that was right. 

    It wasn’t until he had explored a little bit that he noticed the big letters written at the base of the atrium, over Miles’ head—Proclaim the Gospel. He hoped it was red chalk. At the receptionist’s desk, he found a document: 

     You are hereby required to grant M.H.S full access to all facilities and surrender complete authority to its agents. By acceptance of this document you (and any surviving relatives) surrender all claims of litigation against the Murkoff Corp. or its subsidiaries for the actions of M.H.S. or the circumstances which required their actions, regardless of responsibility. 

     A status report in one of the storage rooms, about a patient named Chris Walker, observed by Dr. Rudolph Wenicke. It mentioned more of the rumoured Morphogenic Engine. From the interview notes: 

     Walker was interviewed in restraints, following his self-inflicted mutilations. Restraint have had to be altered to accommodate his enourmous size...he claims the skin ripped from his forehead allows for a truer way of seeing...his predominant fixation, amplified by therapy, is a manic exaggeration of military security protocol. 

     It took Miles a minute to realize that was the big fucker who threw him through the window—Chris Walker, an abused patient. The rage in his stomach muted. Did he even know what he was doing? Miles shook his head. It didn’t matter. 

    Coming into the hallway, he stopped. A Variant sat in a wheelchair, staring at the floor. Miles cleared his throat and hesitated, before stepping forward. 

    “H-Hello? My name is Miles Upshur, I’m an investigative reporter. May I ask you some questions, please?” 

    The Variant’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he panted. Miles’ brows furrowed as he came closer. Like Chris Walker, this patient looked horribly unhealthy, and deformed. How many patients came into Mount Massive this way? Could this be a coincidence? 

    The man didn’t respond, so Miles moved forward. He came into a room with three Variants, all bald men, staring with dead eyes at a static television screen splattered with blood. Miles introduced himself again, and nobody answered. He pulled out his notebook. 

     A crowd of broken men watching a dead channel. They look like patients. They survived whatever happened here but nobody’s home. 

     He carried through the room and cautiously explored the Administration Block until he found the keycard for Security Control. He passed the Variant in the wheelchair, only to find his back smacking to the floor, reawakening the pain in his spine, the Variant screaming, “GET THEM OUT! PLEASE! THE DOCTOR IS DEAD! RIP THEM CLEAN! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” 

    Miles gasped and shoved at the fucker’s chest, until he finally flew off and hit the ground. The man curled into a fetal position and sobbed into his arms. Miles panted, the anger in his stomach slowly subsiding. 

    “It’ll be okay.” He swallowed. “I’m here to help. Which doctor are you talking about? Rip what clean? How can I help you?”

    Miles raised his camera. The man refused to respond. Miles stepped back, covered in sweat. He hesitantly left as the man crawled away. 

    He made it to the hallway with Security Control, and as he stood at the edge, a Variant at the end of the hall ran forward and pounded into a door until it opened, then slammed it behind him. Miles sucked in panicked breaths. He thought of approaching, of seeing if he could get some information, but shook his head. Maybe it was better to leave the Variants alone, when he could. 

    He couldn’t help himself—he explored what rooms he could. He found several dead bodies, blood splattered almost excessively, and managed to scrounge up some batteries. In the bathroom, a clothed man sat on the toilet, dead and hunched over, with the word ‘WITNESS’ written in blood above him. His abdomen burning with anger, Miles hands trembled over his notebook. 

     I’m already beat all to hell, picking broken glass out of my scalp, coupole cracked ribs. Nearly killed by a deformed giant, looks like somebody tried to fuck-start his head with a cheese grater. He throws me through a wall, knocks me unconscious. 

        I wake up and some doughy old man with a face like an alcoholic kiddy fiddler in a homemade priest outfit calls me his Apostle. Not a job I asked for. 

        There are words scrawled in blood everywhere. I’m getting an ugly feeling in my gut that the priest is writing them, and for my benefit. 

     He kept exploring, looking for anything that could bring this place down, and grinned as he read through a document. 

     The profit potential of PROJECT WALRIDER remains staggeringly high...four fatalities...PROJECT WALRIDER remains a dangerous initiative...certainly be further casualties...family and government interest in the patients is so low as to make any chance of legal actions vanishingly unlikely. Violence among patients is increasing as the Morphogenic Engine Therapy gets closer to producing working models…

     He pocketed the document and headed for Security Control. This is enough. I’m going to bring down Murkoff Corporation. 

    The reader beeped as Miles scanned the keycard and headed for the control panel. A security guard laid crumpled, dead in the corner. He ignored it the best he could and got on the keyboard, only for the priest to appear on screen. Miles watched with wide eyes, his heart racing in his fingertips, as the father yanked down a lever and the lights went out. 

    Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

    The screens had said basement. If he could get down there and restart the generator, he could get out. 

    He stood and headed for the door. His hand on the handle, he froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. 

    A familiar voice. “We have to contain it.” 

    Miles whipped around and looked in any place he could possibly hide in the tiny room. His heart raced, his breath short, his eyes landed on the locker. He sprinted over and crammed himself inside, slamming the door closed just in time for the room’s door to burst open. 

    Bringing his camcorder up, Miles pressed his free hand to his mouth to hide his breathing. Chris Walker’s own breathing filled the air, short and rabid, as he mumbled to himself. Walker looked around for around, checking the desk, circling the room, mumbling. “You were here, little pig, weren’t you…?” 

    The locker beside Miles creaked open. He bit back a whimper. 

    What do I do? What the fuck do I do? 

    Miles placed his hand on the cold metal, and prepared himself to run.

bls let me know what you think! and reblog <3 critiqued by @dib-leo-pard

#outlast #camerashipping #waylon park #miles upshur #whistleblower #outlast revisited

[the-french-belphegor]

Avuncular

New fic! If you like disaster uncles and inquisitive toddlers, this one’s for you ^^

Summary: In which Alex is a mischievous toddler, Ardeth has something on his mind, and Jonathan almost decides that the ultimate book on correct uncle-ing might be worth more than the Book of Amun-ra. Almost.

(because Tumblr hates links: on AO3 [https://archiveofourown.org/works/25866544] / on FFnet [https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13669878/1/Avuncular] )

.⅋.

Umm El Qaʻāb, Egypt, February 1929

A tomb was no place for a small child, Evy had said, and Jonathan agreed wholeheartedly. So did Rick, who, despite admitting that the necropolis felt nowhere as evil and dangerous as Hamunaptra had, was still unwilling to bring Alex inside.

Especially after what Evy had said about the human sacrifices.

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘human sacrifices’?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, darling, it’s not like that,” said Evy lightly as she breezed along the ancient cemetery with the last of the diggers. “Pharaohs of the Early Dynastic Period were expected to have servants in the afterlife, so they killed people and animals as part of the funerary rituals. That stopped after the First Dynasty, though, and there is absolutely no record of any curse placed on them.”

To think the Bembridge Scholars had rejected her so many times on account of ‘inexperience in the field’. Like so many people, they’d seen a mousy, bookish girl and failed entirely to detect the force of nature behind the glasses and the frumpy clothes. Honestly, the lengths some people would go to ignore what was in front of them were astonishing, Jonathan thought. One look at ten-year-old Evy squinting at the Middle Demotic papyrus on the wall of their parents’ bedroom could have set them straight.

Hamunaptra had changed that state of things rather spectacularly. Evy – and by extension Rick and even Jonathan – was now courted not just by the Bembridge Scholars, but also by none other than the bloody British Museum. So when the opportunity of digging on the ancient necropolis of Abydos presented itself, Evy – and Rick, also by extension – had jumped at the call. Jonathan had tagged along, partly out of curiosity and partly because February in Upper Egypt was infinitely preferable to February in London. The weather when they’d left had just been miserable.

They had brought Alex, as well. Leaving him behind in England was simply out of the question.

But any dig site was full of hidden dangers, and half-dug tombs even more so, so Jonathan had half volunteered and half been volunteered to look after his nephew. Which was fine by him, really, as Alex was a cheerful child, not to mention inquisitive and quite bright for an almost-three-year-old. Besides, it also meant that he didn’t have to actually do any digging or directing diggers.

“What’s that?”

“A tent.”

“What’s that?”

“That was a column – maybe there was a roof somewhere, but it’s long gone now.”

“No, Uncle Jon,” said Alex in a voice that was entirely too bossy for a toddler and brought back vivid memories of Evy at that age, “what’s that?”

He was pointing at a bas-relief on the decapitated column. Jonathan stepped closer and squinted at it.

“Let’s see… Oh, that’s Thoth – ibis-headed chap, god of things like wisdom, magic and science if I remember right. The Ancient Egyptians sure had a different definition of ‘bird-brained’, didn’t they?”

Alex scrunched up his face.

“‘Bird-brained’ is when you’re a… pillock?”

“That’s right!” Jonathan said, delighted. His nephew didn’t lack brains and had a good grasp on vocabulary. The next second, though, he frowned and asked, “Now where did you pick up that word?”

Alex’s grin was an answer in itself. “Yesterday you said Mr Whitehead was a pillock.”

Oh, right. The old wanker had had the audacity of going straight to Rick for orders, knowing perfectly that Evy was in charge of the whole operation. Rick had set him straight right away and given him the kind of glare that might have scared off Imhotep, and Jonathan, who had seen his sister deal with this kind of nonsense all her life, had put the boot in and added a vicious tongue-lashing.

Good thing Alex had only turned up for the end of it, or he might have heard a lot worse.

Alex wasn’t just smart; he also – unfortunately – had an unerring instinct for latching on to any kind of profanity and repeating it at the worst moment.

Fortunately, he was also easily distracted.

“What’s that?”

The “what’s that” game could last a long time, as Alex was curious about everything, and it was only his second trip to Egypt – and his first dig. The little tyke must not even remember seeing his first camel last year. There was rather a lot to see in the camp for a child and Alex’s wide eyes darted everywhere. Jonathan ambled around, his arms full of nephew, putting a name on everything Alex pointed a tiny finger at.

The questions were easy enough to answer. Maybe this uncle thing really wasn’t so difficult, after all.

Alex was a healthy, well-fed little boy, and every now and then Jonathan had to shift his weight in his arms and hitch him up a bit not to drop him. That had been Evy’s obsession at first.

“Put your fingers behind his head!”

“Careful, he might slip!”

“Here, let me take him –”

Not that Jonathan hadn’t been terrified before holding his first and so far only nephew for the first time, to tell the truth. But when he had finally picked up the newborn and settled him in the crook of his arm, holding him had just felt… right. Alex had been born a day or two after term; he had been a robust, round-cheeked baby, with nary a wrinkle, and his weight in Jonathan’s arms had been warm and reassuringly heavy. He hadn’t felt like a tiny draught might somehow break him, like the very few babies that had somehow found their way into Jonathan’s arms so far – including Evy, that first time their mother had let him hold his baby sister. But that might have been due to the fact that everybody had previously impressed upon him how much holding a baby was a tremendous responsibility for a five-year-old.

At some point he’d had enough and remarked to Evy, “Look, I know I might not be the most careful of fellows generally speaking, but really, old mum. I never dropped you, did I?”

“So says you,” Evy muttered.

Rick had backed him up, to both siblings’ surprise. And then, of course, because being a father not only didn’t change some things but also exacerbated others, he had waited till Evy’s back was turned before looking at Jonathan right in the eye and saying, “Do not drop him, though. Ever.” with frankly scary seriousness.

If it had been any other subject, Jonathan would have been happy to just gulp and nod. But he’d stared right back, somewhat peeved, and said, “You know I won’t.”

And then baby Alex had gurgled and half drooled, half vomited on his shoulder and the conversation had met a swift and definite end.

“What’s that, Uncle Jon?”

“Oh, that’s a camel. Stay well clear of it, they bite and they stink to high heaven.”

“Okay. What’s that?”

Alex was pointing at a tent again, and Jonathan was about to answer when he looked at the boy, who was squirming and sniggering like he’d made the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh dear, I don’t know,” he said airily. “I have no idea what it’s called. Could it be… a tree?”

“No!” squealed a delighted Alex, giggling at his own joke like only a three-year-old could. “It’s a tent!”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!”

“Well,” said Jonathan, hitching him up again, “you know better, I’m sure.”

The sun was climbing in the sky and the temperatures with it. Jonathan spotted the large tent Evy used as general headquarters and made for it, eager for some shade if not exactly cool. The cloth was thick and they had added rugs and hefty blankets to keep the sun’s glare out. It wasn’t enough by a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

Jonathan was trying to remember the spot he’d buried his canteen in the sand to keep it cool when a voice behind him said, “Good morning, my friend.”

Goodness knew what prevented him from dropping Alex. As it was, he started badly enough to jolt the boy a little, and Alex gave a startled squeak.

“Good grief, Ardeth,” Jonathan gasped. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.”

Ardeth Bay grinned, making him wonder how much of these little scares were actually on purpose.

“That is not my intention, I assure you.”

“Yes, well… As long as you don’t enjoy scaring me half to death too much. How’ve you been keeping since last time?”

“I’ve been well, thank you. Hamunaptra is quiet, but we still keep watch.”

“Nothing cursed about this place, is there?” asked Jonathan with a touch – oh, just a smidge – of anxiety. “No malediction we should know about?”

Ardeth shook his head. “No, nothing of the kind. This is just a courtesy call.”

Then his warm black eyes slid from Jonathan to Alex, who had both arms around his uncle’s neck in an uncharacteristic display of shyness.

“Hello, Alexander. You don’t remember me, I don’t think. I’m Ardeth Bay, and I’m very pleased to see you.”

Alex’s only answer was to bury his face into his uncle’s shirt. Jonathan shrugged with the one shoulder available.

“Don’t take it personally, he’s a lot more outgoing when he’s had time to adjust to people. Alex, my boy,” he added, “you’re starting to get a tad heavy for your old uncle. Mind if I put you down for a bit?”

“No!” Alex leaned back and stared at him with a pout. Jonathan stared right back, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ll be taking this to mean you don’t mind, then, shall I?”

The pout was suddenly a little less firm. “…No?”

“It’s like this, partner – either I put you down right now or my arms fall off. I don’t have your dad’s shoulders, don’t you know.” Alex grumbled a bit, but thankfully detached his arms from his neck when Jonathan deposited him on the mat, relieved. His arms really did feel about to fall off, and Alex’s small body against his chest had been a veritable furnace. “D’you want to say hello to Ardeth? He’s a good friend, you know.”

“’Lo,” Alex muttered. Jonathan shook his head.

“Now where’s the chatterbox I know and love? You didn’t eat him, did you?” he asked, crouching to squint at the boy. Alex let out a reluctant giggle, then clamped his hands over his mouth. “Thought so. Spit out my nephew this instant, you don’t know where he’s been.”

Alex snorted through his hands, and Jonathan stood up, satisfied. Something popped in his back when he was fully upright again. Alex really was getting a little too heavy to carry a long time.

“He has grown up a lot since I saw him last,” Ardeth remarked thoughtfully. Jonathan nodded.

“I’ll say. How old was he then, eighteen months? He was barely walking. Now it’s all we can do to keep up with the little fellow.” Jonathan glanced down at Alex, who was inspecting the maps on the table – or trying to, since the top of his blond head barely reached them – then back at Ardeth. “How many nephews do you have again?”

“Two,” said Ardeth with a smile, “and three nieces.”

“Good heavens. How do you not have grey hair yet?”

Ardeth raised an eyebrow. “How do you? One nephew can be enough.”

“Give it time, old boy, give it time. I shudder to think of the state we’ll all be in if he ever gets a little sibling.”

Evy was only half-jokingly considering putting Alex on a leash after he escaped supervision and almost ran into traffic twice in one week. The way things were going, it wouldn’t be surprising if all three of them got grey hair before the boy finished his first decade of life.

“How are Evelyn and O’Connell?”

“Same old, same old, as disgustingly in love as ever. You’d think having a small child and an engrossing job would get them to keep their hands off each other sometimes, but no such luck.”

This got a chuckle, which made Jonathan grin and ask, “How’s the wife, by the way?”

Imeni, Ardeth’s wife, was a tall woman with sharp features, rich dark brown skin, and long almond-shaped eyes that seemed to be always twinkling. She got on very well with Evy, who liked her equanimity and her love of lore, and, perhaps surprisingly, with Jonathan as well, who liked the fact that her sense of humour balanced Ardeth’s – when he bothered to air it, that is. The man was often so serious one might be forgiven for thinking he had no sense of humour whatsoever.

Oddly, Ardeth seemed to hesitate for a second before replying, “Imeni is well, thank you. She sends her love.”

“Couldn’t come, eh? That’s a shame. You know, one of these days you two should take a holiday and come visit merry old London. We could show you the sights. I don’t think swords are allowed on double-deckers, but…”

Something – what exactly, Jonathan wasn’t certain – inserted itself into his train of thoughts, like a wedge, and his voice trailed off. He stopped talking altogether, puzzled, and automatically looked around the tent to check on Alex…

Only to find that the boy was gone.

Jonathan’s mouth dropped open. The ‘something’ abruptly crystallised into icy dread.

“Alex?” he called, doing his best to sound normal and not like a rabbit who’d just been stepped on. His best, he found, wasn’t very effective. “Ardeth, did you see where he—?”

Ardeth had looked a little confused for a second until his mind did a similar equation and came up with the same result Jonathan’s had.

“No,” he said, and in other circumstances Jonathan might have marvelled at the way his eyes went round and his face spelled out the same kind of budding panic he felt. “I wasn’t watching him. Are you sure he’s not—?”

“Yes of course I’m sure!”

The tent wasn’t that large; in five seconds Jonathan had exhausted all possible hiding places for a three-year-old. He bolted out into the mid-morning sun, eyes straining to catch any movement at all and sort out which might be his nephew.

The dig site sprawled in front of him, an open-air ant colony full of sunlight, ancient stones, and people, none of which the one tiny human he was looking for.

You’ll keep an eye on him, won’t you? Evy had told him more than asked, to which Jonathan had replied with a little more confidence than he felt, Of course I will. What sort of uncle do you take me for?

Perhaps the question bore asking a little more than he thought…

“Oh God,” Jonathan moaned. “I’ve lost him. The one thing I swore I’d never do and I’ve gone and lost him. How does one even lose a two-stone child?”

“Never mind that,” came Ardeth’s sharp voice, snapping him out of his self-pity. “We just have to find him. He can’t have gone that far.”

Gone was the genial if quiet fellow with the slight smile; in his place stood the Ardeth of old, the grim-faced warrior on a sacred mission. For some reason Jonathan found this reassuring. He had first-hand knowledge of how valuable an ally the Medjai could be in the more… extreme kinds of situations.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“You’re right, you’re right. He’s just one little kid… with tiny legs… Good God, what if he falls into one of these trenches they’re digging along the walls over there?” he wailed. Naturally, his brain helpfully provided him with an image which made him physically sick to his stomach. That is not helping! he thought as forcefully as he could, rubbing his eyes in the vain hope of getting rid of the mental picture.

“Jonathan.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not helping.”

“Of course, I know that,” Jonathan snapped as he strode out of the tent, hopefully in a direction a three-year-old would find interesting. “But it’s not something I can help, is it? Anything could happen to him! He could fall, he could cut himself, he could get sunstroke – he’s always taking off his hat, the damn thing never stays on his head for more than ten seconds – I bet this bloody necropolis is crawling with snakes and scorpions, too, let’s not forget those—”

“Stop.”

Ardeth’s voice had that iron ring to it which only came out when he was giving urgent orders to his men. It reverberated through Jonathan the way his old captain’s voice used to, a decade ago, when someone had been about to step on a mine or a half-buried live shell. Instinctively he froze, one foot still in the air, precariously balancing on his other foot, searching for the hidden threat.

“What?!”

“Look.”

Ardeth was pointing down at something about two inches from his right foot. Jonathan stumbled back and examined it.

A tiny footprint in the sand. Followed by another.

“The wind will erase them soon,” said Ardeth, “but at least they can give us a direction.”

Jonathan let out a long, drawn-out breath.

“Fantastic. Jolly good show. I’ll be right behind you, then.”

Ardeth frowned at him.

“Why is that?”

“Well, you’re the expert tracker here, aren’t you?”

“I really am not,” muttered Ardeth, going back to the footprints and following them down the path that led to the busiest area of the necropolis. “Anybody might have spotted those prints.”

“Yes, and anybody else might have stepped on them. Anybody still might, for that matter.”

Ardeth gave him a look between curious and exasperated, and Jonathan tried to curb his pessimism. After all, Alex had been his responsibility, not Ardeth’s, but the fellow still offered his help, apparently without even thinking about it. Antagonising him would not just be rude, it would be quite idiotic.

“Sorry for assuming things, old boy,” he said after a short silence. “I just thought that, of the two of us, you’d be the one with the most experience in tracking people. Or children, as it were.”

The look Ardeth gave him this time, though still tense, was almost exempt of irritation. It was even a little thoughtful.

“I’m a warrior, first and foremost. If I need to track someone – or something – I rely on experts. But,” he added with the hint of a smile, “I do have some experience looking for my nieces and nephews.”

Jonathan squinted at him. “Do you mean ‘looking after’ your nieces and nephews?”

“No, ‘for’. They like playing hide and seek.”

The mental picture of Ardeth – dour, dignified, serious Ardeth – playing hide and seek with children Jonathan imagined to be no older than ten made him smile. And then something else occurred to him, and he groaned.

“Oh, God. It’s bad enough that Alex likes to disappear just because he gets curious. I’m not looking forward to him disappearing because he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Does he run away a lot, then?” Ardeth asked curiously. Jonathan nodded with a solemn sigh.

“Like I said, he’s curious. Takes after his mum, God help us. Evy was the same, really, except in the end she could usually be found in the library or in front of an interesting-looking bas-relief.”

It appeared Jonathan was not the only one who got entertaining mental pictures. Ardeth actually smiled.

“I have no trouble believing that. I take it you were not a curious child, then?”

“Oh, believe me, I was. The difference is, I’m the eldest, so no-one else remembers all the silly things I did as a boy. No-one alive, anyway.”

Jonathan’s mind caught up with his words a second after they left his mouth, which meant he could finish his sentence without his voice trailing off.

Grief was a sneaky bastard, he knew, the sort that could leave a fellow alone for months or even years until it tapped him on the shoulder one day, said “Remember me?” and stabbed him through and through with something that felt like a long, icy knife. He hadn’t felt that knife in a while.

Pull yourself together, old boy, he told himself as sternly as he could, it’s been a decade.

…All right, nine years. Well, eight years and six months. And three days. Point was, quite long enough that a grown man shouldn’t make a fool of himself because his mother and father happened to die before their time.

Jonathan released a shaky breath, cleared his throat, and avoided Ardeth’s eyes until he was certain the expression in his wouldn’t betray him.

Of course, since the man was anything but stupid, there was something solemn in the gaze Jonathan caught as he finally glanced his way again. It was somewhat tempting to ask him if his parents were still alive; after all, Jonathan, Evy and Rick knew precious little about Ardeth Bay and his family, or even general Medjai customs. But even here, in the middle of the desert, and no matter how much Jonathan usually liked to trample them into the sand, etiquette rules prohibited personal questions unless such information was freely offered. Ardeth having previously mentioned being married and an uncle had been all they had known about his private life before they had meet Imeni, who was a little more liberal with personal details.

Besides, in the event that Ardeth’s parents were in fact dead, the last thing Jonathan wanted to do was make things more awkward, knowing first-hand how sharp old grief could prove.

They silently approached a man sitting on the ground, surrounded by what appeared to be crockery, intent on cleaning up a piece of ancient earthenware.

“Um,” said Jonathan, “excuse me. Did you happen to see a child? Blond, blue-eyed, yea high, probably was not wearing a hat.”

Evy is going to kill me on that account alone if we don’t find him soon.

The man gave a start and glowered up at Jonathan.

“If I saw a child?” he yelled in Arabic. “Yes, I did see a child! He picked up this pot and almost dropped it. Do you know how old this pot is? How valuable!? Snotty brats running wild, almost breaking priceless artefacts, what kind of a dig site is this—”

“Did you see where he went?” Ardeth interrupted him shortly, also in Arabic. The man’s glare went from Jonathan to him, and his anger visibly went down a notch or two, replaced with wariness.

“Yes,” he answered after an awkward silence. “That way, towards the Osireion1. I figured someone was looking after him, so I didn’t really pay attention.”

Ardeth thanked him and strode in the new direction, practically towing Jonathan, whose legs had just decided it was the right moment to start wobbling. The Osireion, unlike most temples, had been built much lower than the other buildings, and as such was being excavated rather than just cleaned up. If Alex took a wrong step…

“Did you understand what he said?”

“Most of it,” wheezed Jonathan. “The next time I’m carrying the lad I swear my arms will fall off before I put him down. There are pits over there, for God’s sake, and – and trenches, and holes full of stagnant water in this season…”

Just for a second, the words ‘pits’, ‘trenches’, and ‘holes full of stagnant water’ dredged up bad memories, over a decade old, and he froze. Ardeth, still walking briskly towards the temple, didn’t appear to notice. Jonathan had to run a little to catch up with him.

“ALEX!” he yelled, praying the boy was within earshot and his parents weren’t. “Where are you?”

“Yāh! Do you search for a little child?” someone called out in English with a fairly heavy accent. Jonathan and Ardeth whirled round as one.

One of the foremen was waving, trying to get their attention. The two of them ran up to him and reached him in a dead heat.

“Where did you see him?” Jonathan panted. “Is he all right?”

The man squinted at him and Ardeth. Then, without a word, he jerked his chin in the direction of a rudimentary tent shielding a couple of camels from the sun.

Between the camels, sitting cross-legged on the sand with a biscuit and making cheerful one-sided conversation, was Alex.

“…but then I have fingers, so I can pick things up and not eat them – broc’li, you know, they’re yucky. Carrots are okay, only Mummy doesn’t like it when I saw ‘okay’, but Daddy says it except he doesn’t really like carrots? Carrots are fun to crunch, though, ‘cause I have teeth – see? How many teeth do you have?”

Jonathan leant forwards with his hands on his wobbly knees, panting, and sent a quick silent prayer of gratitude to anyone who might be listening.

“Alex,” he gasped. “You—why—where—”

“Hi, Uncle Jon!” said Alex with a grin, waving. “These camels don’t bite!”

One of the camels chose that precise moment to sniff lazily the half-eaten biscuit in Alex’s hand and drew back its lips. Jonathan’s heart, already going a mile a minute from the run and the fright, skipped a beat. In the space of a second he had rushed over to the boy and picked him up.

“Get your own biscuit,” he snapped at the camel, “and leave my nephew’s fingers alone.”

Then he heaved a sigh almost as heavy as Alex and wrapped his squirming nephew into a tight hug.

“Put me down, Uncle Jon!” protested Alex. “I don’t wanna hug! I wanna see the camel again.”

Jonathan ignored his request and shifted him back to peer at him.

“Are you all right? Did you get bitten, stung, scratched? Where’s your hat gone?” He transferred Alex to one arm as he used his other hand to check him and his clothes for any damages. When his fingers hit a ticklish spot Alex squirmed again with a giggle.

“You’re silly.”

“And you are in a world of trouble, partner. Why on Earth did you run off?”

Alex’s grin was a milk teeth version of his father’s when Rick really smiled, and an unholy mix of triumphant and utterly disarming.

“I saw a bird!”

Jonathan’s mouth fell open.

“…A bird.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you ran off.”

“Yes!”

“But…” Jonathan stared at the boy in his arms. “But there’s plenty of birds at home and you don’t disappear each time you see a bally sparrow!”

…Oh Lord, I hope I haven’t given him ideas.

Alex shook his head vehemently, still grinning.

“Can I – Uncle Jon, can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure,” Jonathan replied distractedly. Alex put his arms around his neck, his eyes shining like he’d just had the best idea in the history of bright ideas.

“It was,” he said in Jonathan’s ear, his voice a little too loud to sound properly conspiratorial, “a desert bird!”

He leant back, staring expectantly at his uncle with the same beaming smile.

Jonathan, too frazzled and knackered to do anything else, stared back a few long seconds. Then he gave a small smile.

“So you saw a camel and a bird, eh? Sounds like quite the adventure.”

“That’s not all,” came a voice on his left. He’d completely forgotten Ardeth, Jonathan realised with a twinge of guilt. “Apparently, he also peeked into a well in search of water, disturbed the foreman’s tools, and then forgot to say ‘thank you’ when he was given a biscuit.”

“Thank you,” said Alex immediately in the prim and polite tone Jonathan knew he had picked up from Evy. Ardeth smiled slightly.

“Not to me, Alexander, to him. He was the one who gave you the biscuit.”

The foreman, who had been talking with Ardeth, stared at Alex impassibly, arms folded across his chest. Alex wriggled closer to his uncle, looking intimidated.

“Thank you,” he said more uncertainly.

The foreman stared a little more, then gave a solemn nod.

“Do not look in wells, little boy,” he said gravely. “There is danger there.”

“But I’m careful.”

“He always says that,” said Jonathan to the foreman in Arabic, “generally just before he does something really stupid. Thank you so much for finding him.”

The foreman looked taken aback for a second. That was a common enough reaction on the occasion that Jonathan got his Arabic sentences right. The accent threw people. For all that his mother had lived most of the second half of her life away from Egypt, she had retained her Cairene accent, which Jonathan had inherited and held on to. As long as he didn’t make glaring mistakes – which happened often, admittedly – people’s faces at hearing a pasty blue-eyed Englishman speak Arabic with the kind of lilt one might find among the middle class of Downtown Cairo always had some entertainment value.

“If I were you,” said the foreman in Arabic after a ‘you’re welcome’ nod, “I’d keep an eye on that child. Kids his age can be reckless, but he looks utterly fearless.”

“Don’t I know it. Unfortunately he can be…”

Dammit, what was a good word for ‘sneaky’? Muḵādeʿ2 meant ‘dishonest’, but that didn’t describe Alex at all. Jonathan was dishonest; Alex was just slippery as an eel and blithely ignored the adults’ opinions on where he should be and what he should (or shouldn’t) do.

Ardeth seemed to infer what Jonathan meant and picked up where he left off, thank goodness. “He can be very stealthy.”

He looked stone-faced and imperturbable, as usual, but his voice had something strange about it, slightly off, as though strained.

The foreman nodded again and went back to his duties after a last pointed look at Alex, who responded by throwing his arms around his uncle’s neck again, generously sprinkling biscuit crumbs into his shirt collar.

Despite what he had told Ardeth earlier, Jonathan gently put Alex down with a groan. The boy really was getting heavy. However, in deference to the fright he’d just had, he reached down to grab Alex’s free hand in his. Alex ducked in order to keep both hands on his biscuit, but this time Jonathan was adamant to not let go of him.

“Hand, please.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“And what did your mum say yesterday when you didn’t want to hold her hand?”

Alex grumbled something inaudible and slipped his tiny, sticky hand into his uncle’s.

“Good show.”

As they made their way back to the tent at a much more leisurely pace than the earlier frantic search, Jonathan gave Ardeth a sideways glance.

“What’s the matter with you? We found Alex safe and sound, which means Evy and Rick won’t kill me immediately, only when he inevitably mentions his little escapade. There’s a good chance you’ll be gone by that point, though.”

Ardeth’s lips twitched briefly, but something in his expression remained just on the cheerful side of grim.

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Well, lucky you. What are you worried about, then?”

Ardeth hesitated.

Jonathan stared at him. Ardeth never hesitated.

“I was thinking,” said Ardeth after a few seconds’ silence, “about children.”

“One particular specimen or children in general?”

“Yes.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes.

“So you can be cryptic when the world is not at stake as well. Good to know.”

“What was cryptic about ‘Leave this place or die’?”

“Want a list?”

Answer came in the form of a mildly exasperated look. Then, uncharacteristically, a little more hesitation before Ardeth seemed to come to a decision.

“The reason Imeni couldn’t come is because she’s eight months pregnant and the doctor said she should avoid riding.”

Jonathan couldn’t help a large smile.

“Well, I believe congratulations are in order, old boy! Too bad I don’t have cigars. It’s a little early for that, I suppose, but I’ll be sure to bring some next time.”

The remark seemed to baffle Ardeth out of his uncertainty. “Why do you want to smoke cigars? I don’t think I’ve seen you smoke a cigarette.”

“I do have the occasional smoke, but in this case cigars are a tradition in Old Blighty after a birth. The men of the house usually retire to the smoking room while the lady does all the work, and when said work is done the father hands out cigars. Presumably it makes him feel like he did something other than help start the whole thing.”

“The father isn’t present when his child is born?” asked Ardeth, one eyebrow raised. Jonathan shrugged.

“It’s all supposed to be very much women’s business. Tradition, you know. Of course Evy said tradition could go hang and insisted on having Rick be there when Alex was born. The midwife almost had a fit.” So had Rick, come to think of it. But from the look on his face when Jonathan had finally been allowed into the room to check his sister had survived the ordeal and meet his new nephew, it had all been worth it in the end.

Ardeth nodded.

“Among the Medjai, fathers are usually present for a birth. That way, if… something goes wrong, they can still see their child. Or say goodbye to their wife.”

The second sentence cast something of a pall on the conversation. Jonathan swallowed.

Alex had been a healthy baby, but his birth had been difficult for Evy. Despite his earlier remark to Ardeth about the prospect of the boy getting a little sibling, Jonathan was fairly sure the chance was slim to none.

Unconsciously his hand tightened around his nephew’s.

“Is that the reason for your, um… Is that why you were worried?”

Ardeth shook his head. “No. Not entirely, at least. But…” He glanced down at Alex, who kept trotting besides his uncle, eyes darting everywhere. “My experience with children is being an uncle, not a parent. What if…”

This was the most Jonathan had ever heard him falter. There was something disturbing about it, as though he was watching Evy have no idea which section of the Dewey classification a book belonged to.

“What if I’m not ready to be a father?” Ardeth finally asked, sounding like he wasn’t asking Jonathan so much as simply thinking out loud. “If I can fail to notice a child just disappeared under my nose, what does it say about my ability to keep track of children of my own?”

Jonathan blinked at him, rather stunned.

Ardeth voicing any concern of a personal nature was unusual enough. Doing so to him, Jonathan, and not to Rick or Evy, was even stranger, and, to tell the truth, almost unnerving. Ardeth was solid certainty, as unwavering as a rock planted deep into the sand; when that certainty met with the unknown, the rock became wind and went around the obstacle. Ardeth was adaptable, quick to think on his feet, and unafraid of change.

To be fair, and despite the fact that the very last thing Jonathan saw himself as was a parent, even from an outsider’s perspective having a child was an enormous change.

“I suspect,” he said slowly, “that it’s just not the same when they’re your own. Goodness knows Evy was never very keen on children, especially babies or toddlers, until this one came along. Or a little bit before that. Believe me, those two wanted Alex to happen.”

Ardeth’s small smile was lightning-quick, but definitely flitted across his face.

“But they were ready.”

“Good Lord, no. Absolutely not. I think they completely forgot the practical applications of this concept called ‘sleep’ for about a year and a half, for one. You see, this little gentleman here took a long time to learn to sleep through the night.”

Before Alex graduated from baby to toddler – with all the independence that implied, including moving about on his own and being able to express himself with actual words – Jonathan had been very happy that his old room was across the wing from the nursery. It was good to know, on the occasional night he spent at the house, that if Alex started to shriek (or coo, or chatter – the boy was a menagerie all to himself) at four in the morning it was someone else’s responsibility to see to him. The perks of being an uncle, he had found.

Ardeth was silent a few seconds, looking thoughtful. In the hush, Jonathan felt Alex start to lag behind a little and glanced down at him.

“All right there, partner?”

“I’m not sleepy,” muttered Alex, rubbing his eyes with his fists. Jonathan exchanged a long-suffering look with Ardeth, uncle to uncle.

“I didn’t say you were. Think you might be getting a mite tired, though.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sleepy.”

“So I suppose your usual post-morning-snack nap is out of the question?”

“No nap!”

“That’s a shame, I could do with a kip. Oops, steady there.”

Alex had tripped over a rock; only Jonathan hauling him up by the hand kept him on his feet. When he landed, he squinted up at his uncle. His blue eyes were large enough that even the mid-morning sun couldn’t keep them closed.

“Uncle Jon,” he whined, “I’m not sleepy.”

“Yes, you did mention something to that effect.”

“But I wanna go up.”

“That’s funny, I think there’s a word missing in there…”

Alex made a face.

“Please?”

“Splendid. C’mere.”

Alex hardly needed the invitation. The second Jonathan crouched down, the boy wrapped himself around him like an improbable mix of limpet and octopus. He felt a lot less twitchy and energetic than he had been earlier, a clear sign that he was sleepy, or at the very least tired.

Jonathan looked down at the small hand loosely grasping the fabric of his shirt and at the bright blue eyes, now half-closed, and shook his head. It was nigh on impossible to stay cross with that child too long. Even when he misbehaved in the worst way – and Jonathan was well-placed to know there were always worst ways for a little boy to misbehave – he was just too darn cute to reprimand seriously.

Good thing that wasn’t his job. He was only an uncle, after all – although apparently not a very good one.

“Chances are he’ll be asleep in two minutes,” said Ardeth quietly, a smile in his voice. Jonathan suppressed a chuckle.

“Maybe even less. He did have himself quite an adventure this morning. He saw a desert bird, don’t you know.”

Ardeth nodded with a knowing smile.

“My nephew Nehi accompanied us to Cairo two years ago to see the new museum curator. I don’t think he stopped talking and pointing at things from the minute we reached the first houses.”

“How old was he then?”

“Five. You’ll want to watch that one when he reaches that age.”

“Oh, joy. Watching him now is hard enough, for Christ’s sake – you’ve seen how slippery he is!” Jonathan made a mock grimace of fear and glanced down at Alex, who sure enough was now sleeping soundly. “Well. Not right now, probably. Look at him – you’d never guess how close he’s come to giving two grown men heart attacks.”

“Children are good at that,” Ardeth philosophised. “But they’re also good at a lot of other things, alhamdulillah3. You don’t see yourself having one of your own, one day?”

They were almost at the tent, and the urge to sit down – putting down Alex was out of the question this time– was getting more pressing by the second, but Jonathan stopped in his tracks and stared at him, alarmed.

“Good God, no. The very thought. I don’t know who would be more miserable, the poor mite or me.” He drew one of the folding chairs next to another and finally sank into one, not too abruptly to avoid waking Alex, who still clung to him. His bones seemed to rattle when he settled against the backrest.

Ardeth gave something between a chuckle and a snigger.

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not. Being an uncle is the limit of my meagre abilities. I don’t think I’ll ever want children, and children have to be wanted to be happy.”

He and Evy both had been wanted, Jonathan knew. So much so, in fact, that in his case there’d been a bit of gossip about whether he’d been the main reason for his parents’ marriage. Adults usually made a point of sending children away before they talked of such things, but that little rumour had followed him for most of his childhood nonetheless.

In hindsight, maybe it had been a factor, but the only thing it had changed was the timing. Nothing could have stopped Salwa al-Masri and John Carnahan from loving each other, officially or not.

Evy took a lot after their parents in that respect.

Jonathan smiled down at Alex, then looked back up at Ardeth with utmost sincerity.

“Tell me something – did you and Imeni want that child?”

Ardeth appeared taken aback – not that Jonathan could blame him, as he conceded to being serious about as much as Ardeth conceded to laughing out loud – but replied firmly, “Yes.”

“Then what is there to be worried about? You’ll both love the kid to pieces and I’ll bet you anything your nieces and nephews will be happy to get another cousin.”

Ardeth squinted at him.

“Are you seriously trying to impart wisdom?”

“I am a fount of wisdom, I’ll have you know. Generally I just need a glass of Scotch or two first.” Well, he was a fount of something, anyway. Evy always said he talked her ear off when he was three sheets to the wind. Thank goodness he usually toppled over before he got truly quiet. Quiet drunk Jonathan was not a fun drunk at all.

The look Ardeth gave him told him exactly what he thought of that boast, but his eyes twinkled.

“I am not gambling with you again,” he said, and Jonathan knew him well enough by now to spot the slight smile that did not quite show on his face. “Once was enough. I should have listened to O’Connell.”

“Just because that camel race was rigged doesn’t mean they all are, old boy. And Rick can talk – the last time he made a bet, Evy won five hundred dollars.”

A soft sound, like a newborn cat, interrupted the conversation. The grip on his shirt tightened as Alex burrowed against him, frowning a little. Nightmares, probably.

Jonathan let his hand hover over the back of his head, not quite sure what to do. Should he wake up Alex? Let him sleep on? Stroke his back like he’d seen Evy do sometimes, almost absently? The sun was a couple of hours from its zenith, sending the temperatures climbing; Alex’s shirt clung to his back and his neck was drenched in sweat, curling his hair a little. Surely a hug in those conditions couldn’t be too pleasant –

“Put a finger or two near his hand,” came Ardeth’s voice, “and when he takes them, rub your thumb over the back of his hand. Gently.”

Jonathan threw him a curious look, but did as instructed. It didn’t take much prodding for Alex to grab his index and middle finger. Even asleep, the boy liked to clutch at whatever passed by near enough.

To his surprise, after a little while, Alex’s features slackened, his body relaxed, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully again. Jonathan turned back to Ardeth with an appreciative nod.

“I say, that’s a neat trick. How did you know that would work?”

“I didn’t,” said Ardeth with the kind of soft smile that only seemed to come out in the presence of children. “But experience has taught me it takes little to soothe a child sometimes.” He paused. “You seem to be doing fine as an uncle, you know. No need to worry on that account.”

“Thank you,” said Jonathan in a rare flash of open sincerity. The reassurance hadn’t felt necessary until he’d actually heard it. Evy and Rick hadn’t been given the book on correct parenting, but at least they could fall back on memories of their parents, some more distant than others. Jonathan didn’t even have the blueprint of basic uncling. How did one talk to one’s infant then toddler nephew, he had no idea, so he tended to talk to Alex as he would an adult, mostly. Minus some words Evy disapproved of which Alex, unfortunately, found irresistible.

He was fairly sure that uncles weren’t supposed to lose their nephews, though. That little lesson would stay learned.

Well. At least they’d found Alex again quickly, and no harm had been done. The boy had had a biscuit and a little stroll while his uncle and Ardeth had a fright and an unexpected heart to heart, and now he was sprawled on Jonathan’s chest, twitching a little in his sleep sometimes – not a bad way to end an adventure. Even if the small body felt like a boiling water bottle in the blistering heat.

Alex tightened his hold on his uncle’s fingers, and Jonathan couldn’t help a smile. That boy was absurdly sweet.

“So,” he said to Ardeth in a low voice, “what’s the worst trick your nephews ever played on you? If I want to do this uncle thing right I’d better be prepared.”

Ardeth gave a silent laugh and shook his head.

“The worst my nephews have done so far is unhooking my saddle straps just before I mounted my horse. But… Did Imeni ever mention what my niece Kiya did when she was told to take care of her sister’s donkey for the afternoon? I know she likes telling that story.”

The anecdote sounded highly intriguing. Jonathan made himself comfortable in his chair and smirked.

“You know, I don’t believe she did.”

“All right. Well, I was giving Kiya’s sister Jamilah a riding lesson one day…”

.⅋.

Ardeth talked, Alex slept, and Jonathan listened, suppressing a laugh every now and then.

When some time later Evy made her way back to the tent to get a few maps and check on her son, she greeted Ardeth warmly and asked, “Everything all right? I trust everybody behaved?”

“Mummy, Mummy,” exclaimed Alex, who had woken up in the meantime. “I saw a desert bird and then I chased it to the big holes but he flew away. Then the scary man gave me a biscuit and I said ‘thank you’, and then Uncle Jon yelled at a camel, and I wasn’t even tired, and did you know camels bite?”

Evy withstood the onslaught of words with remarkable patience – hard-earned patience, Jonathan knew – and when Alex stopped to get his breath back she aimed her eyes at Jonathan like one might a rifle and squinted.

Not fair, thought Jonathan. I taught her that squint, for God’s sake.

Still, he barely refrained from squirming, and looked to Ardeth for help – to no avail. For the second time in their almost four years of acquaintance, Ardeth appeared uncertain.

The thing about being an uncle was that you had to remember to bow to higher authority, namely The Mum. Especially when the mum in question was Evy. And this even if the uncle in question was a Medjai chieftain, apparently.

Jonathan’s gaze went back and forth from his beaming nephew to his friend before settling on his sister. There was only one thing to do, then.

He took a deep breath, looked Evy in the eye, and tried to look as reasonable as possible.

“Evy, old mum – I can explain everything.”

THE END

.⅋.

1Also spelled ‘Osireon’; one of the temples at Abydos, a cenotaph (tomb without a body) for Seti 1st, who as a deceased pharaoh symbolically plays the role of Osiris there.

2(مخادع), “dishonest”, Egyptian Arabic

3(اَلْحَمْدُ لِلّٰهِ), al-ḥamdu li-llāhi, literally “praise [be] to God”.

#the mummy #The Mummy Returns #the mummy films #jonathan carnahan #Alex O'Connell #ardeth bay #fanfiction

[trashscenariihxh]

Kastro x Fem!Reader NSFW

for @m3v3​!  There’s precious little Kastro content out there, so I hope this small offering can help fill that void a little bit.  To avoid the bonus angst, just skip the last little segment and stop reading after the smut.

Prior to Kastro’s first fight with Hisoka in Heavens Arena, you’d always thought that the hardest part about being in a relationship with a man who fights for a living was knowing that he could be killed at any given time in any number of ways.  After all, you’d seen it happen time and time again.   A cracked skull here, a decapitation there... the wails of loved ones in the audience... Yes, you had been sure that the constant cloying worry about whether or not Kastro would survive his fights was the hardest part about being with him.

Your opinion changed after the fight.  Kastro had lost, but not without getting a few good hits in on his opponent.  You’d rushed to his room as soon as you’d managed to extricate yourself from the crowd, expecting to find your boyfriend looking beaten, bloody and defeated.  You’d hoped, a bit selfishly perhaps, that the loss would put him off fighting.  Alas for you, it was not to be.  When you'd seen Kastro then, you saw a look of determination and passion that you’d never seen before.  Determination, passion, and... was that anger? Exhilaration?  You weren’t sure, but seeing that look in Kastro’s eyes, had made you realize that not only did he not care that he was lucky to be alive, he actually seemed excited by his near demise.  

Excited, and angry.  “He made a mockery out of me!”  The words were hissed through gritted teeth as you gently wiped the dried blood from Kastro’s face.  “Did you see the way he looked at me?  The way he smiled?  Like it’s all a joke...”  You’d nodded sympathetically, unnerved by the palpable rage in his aura.

That night as you’d lain next to him, your body still sore from the uncharacteristically rough way he’d taken you, you decided that you had been wrong: the worst part about being with a man who fights for a living wasn’t the fact that he could be killed at any time.  It was the fact that he thrived off of the idea.  It was the fact that no matter how hard you tried, you could never truly be enough for him.  It was the fact that he’d never give up risking his life in the Arena for anything, not even for you.

You stopped watching his fights after that.

***

In the days leading up to the fight, the long-awaited rematch with Hisoka, you found yourself avoiding Kastro.  He was just so focused on training that he paid attention to little else; you admitted to yourself that you felt neglected whenever Kastro was like this, perhaps even a bit resentful of his violent devotion.  You also found him hurtful in this state; he rebuffed every worry you expressed with either a laugh or a derisive snort.  One instance in particular stuck in your mind: when you’d begged him to reconsider the match.

“Don’t worry about it, _____.  Hisoka is a charlatan.  His cheap tricks don’t stand a chance against me.”  When you didn’t respond, Kastro’s confident smiled wavered and his eyes narrowed.  “Or do you not have faith in my abilities?”

“Of course I do.”  You’d bitten your lips in worry so many times over the past few weeks that the skin was cracked and raw, but the pain did not deter you as you bit them again.  “Just... look at his record.   Kills and no-shows.”  You secretly hoped that the magician wouldn’t show up for the match.  Kastro’s pride would suffer of course, but surely that was better than the alternative.  Your stomach squirmed at the thought.

“He had better show up,” Kastro continued as if he’d read your mind.  “If he doesn’t, then I’ll just keep challenging him until he does.”  He paused a moment before continuing.  “You’ll come, won’t you, _____?”  His voice had grown softer, all traces of bravado gone. 

“Kastro, I...”

“Please.”  His voice dropped to barely above a whisper.  “Please come.”

“I’ll think about it.”  The disappointment in Kastro’s eyes made your chest ache,  but the thought of watching him fight against a homicidal maniac was far more painful.  

You excused yourself and hurried back to your own hotel room, silently berating yourself.  Kastro was days away from the most dangerous, the most important fight of his career and you couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him you’d watch.  What kind of a partner were you?   You should have been with him, encouraging him, spending what could quite possibly be your last few days with him, and instead you were running away to spend your evening alone because you couldn’t do one thing for him.  

You couldn’t watch him fight.  Couldn’t watch him die.  You tried to banish those thoughts from your mind, and promised yourself that you’d make the next meeting with your lover much more enjoyable.

***

When you went to Kastro’s room the next day, he greeted you with a warm smile and an invitation to have dinner and share a bottle of wine with him, which you gladly accepted.  Warmed by wine, the conversation was light-hearted, for once.  You leaned against your partner as you sat next to him on the sofa, chattering on about your day. Kastro smiled and rested his cheek on his knuckles, seemingly enraptured by the mundanities of your daily life.  

“So wait, did you buy the 2 for 1 lavender soap, or the slightly more expensive one that you prefer?”  His face was a mask of concern, serious, but his voice shook with the barest hint of a laugh.

“Hey!”  You playfully nudged his shoulder.  “We can’t all be prospective Floor Masters.  Some of us are normal people, living normal lives.  Looking for normal jobs. You know- ah!” You squealed in surprise when Kastro grabbed your hips and lifted you with an almost comical lack of effort, pulling into his lap, facing him.

“You’re still looking? ____, I’ll take care of you.”  He regarded you warmly.  “I mean it.  I want to look after you.”

“But I need something to occupy myself when you’re busy training all day.” You gave him what you hoped was a playful smile, but you couldn’t stop the slight trace of bitterness tingeing your voice.

Kastro, observant man that he was, picked up on it immediately.

“I’ve neglected you.”  Soft lips pressed against your cheek as lightly-calloused fingers stroked your hair.  “I’m sorry.”  He tilted your chin down and offered you a small, apologetic smile.

If you were being perfectly honest, you wanted to yell at him.  He had neglected you for weeks!  Shrugged off your worries, forgotten your dinner plans, even rejected your sexual advances.  In your opinion, “neglected” was an understatement.  Still... you weren’t going to start a fight the night before the biggest match of his career.  Besides, the instant he gave you that warm, soft smile your heart melted; you moved in closer and kissed him.

Kastro smiled against your lips as his arms encircled your waist.  “I really am sorry,” he murmured between kisses, his hands running over the small of your back and over the swell of your backside.  “Let me make it up to you.”  He began to kiss along your jawbone as his hands slid beneath your waistband to gently cup and squeeze your ass.

You gasped when you felt his teeth begin to lightly graze along the delicate skin of your neck; you drew back for a moment to lift your shirt over your head and toss it carelessly on the floor before threading your fingers through his soft silver hair and pulling him into another kiss.  His hands were still travelling beneath the fabric of your pants when you pulled back to look at him again.

“You want to make it up to me?”  You bit your lip as you reached out to rest a soft hand lightly against his cheek.  “How do you propose to do that, Mr. Almost Floor Master?”

Kastro turned to kiss your palm before resting his cheek against it again.  His lips curved upwards in a tiny smile as his deep blue eyes quickly swept over your body.  “Do you want me to show you?”  He gave your ass another squeeze.

“Yeah.”  You wiggled your hips against his crotch as you ran your thumb over his lower lip.  

A split second later Kastro picked you up as if you weighed nothing, kissing your face, your mouth, your neck, anywhere he could reach as you wrapped your legs around his waist to keep from falling.  For all his strength, Kastro moved clumsily, jostling against a wall and nearly bumping into a chair as he carried you over to the bed, upon which you were unceremoniously tossed.  You furrowed your brows indignantly, only to be interrupted by another bruising kiss as skilled hands made short work of your remaining clothing.  

It didn’t take Kastro long to remove his own clothes either; once naked, he crawled on top of you, nudging your legs apart with his knees as you both scooted further up the bed.  You felt his hard cock against your thigh as he positioned himself over you, his mouth on your chest, kissing along your collarbones.  You arched up into his kisses with a soft hum of appreciation, running your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his shoulder blades.  How long had it been since you’d been with him like this?

You felt his cock against your entrance and gasped, fingernails digging lightly into your lover’s back.

“____, can I?”  Kastro’s lips pressed against the skin below your ear.  “You’re so wet already... ‘s it okay?”  His cock nudged against you again, the tip slipping in ever so slightly.

You sighed out a soft “uh-huh” and spread your legs a bit wider to accommodate him.  He’d barely touched you, yet your groin felt warm, wet, sensuously taut.  Air caught in your throat when you felt him slide in; it took a couple gentle, firm thrusts for him to enter you completely.  He stilled when he was fully sheathed inside you, then pulled back, bracing himself against the bed, his hands on either side of your head. 

You bucked your hips against him, willing him to move.  When he didn’t comply, you whined impatiently.  “Kastro, move.”

He groaned in response.  “You’re so tight, ____.” He moved his hips in slow circles against you.  “You okay?” 

You responded by tightening your inner muscles around his cock, drawing out another surprised moan from the man on top of you.  You had to admit that there was something viscerally, primally erotic about having one of the strongest fighters at Heavens Arena in such a position: on you, in you, barely holding it together.  “Yes.  Now move.  Please.”  You felt Kastro’s cock twitch inside your core; after a few moments your lover swallowed thickly and finally began to rock against you.

It didn’t take long for his self-control to melt away.  With an almost-growl, Kastro quickened his pace so that he was slamming into you with an almost-bruising force.  When you wrapped your legs around his waist to hold him in place he lowered himself onto his forearms and covered your mouth with his own.

You arched your back as he kissed you, allowing his arms to encircle you before reaching up to embrace his shoulders.  His thrusts had become less frenzied; his cock stayed deep within you as his hips rocked against yours.  His pelvis put pressure on your clitoris as he ground himself into you with smooth, undulating thrusts; you felt the sweet tension of impending release coiling within you.

“____, you’re so, you feel so...” Kastro’s words were interrupted by throaty moans and choked sighs as he moved.  The months without physical intimacy had clearly been harder for him than he was willing to let on.

Warmth, affection, and pure, ecstatic love for the man radiated through your body as you somehow held him closer.  “Baby,” you cooed into his ear, “you’re gonna make me cum.”  To emphasize your point, you clenched your walls around his cock again.  Usually it took more to send you over the edge, but the months of deprivation and unexpected rush of emotion sent delicious twinges throughout your core to pool between your legs.

Kastro hissed out a curse when you tightened around him again and picked up the pace.  It only took a few more thrusts to bring you to orgasm; you held him close, drawing him into you with your legs as your walls spasmed around him.  He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, though his breaths had become ragged and uneven as he chased his own release.  When he got close, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours and raspily asked “_____, can I cum inside?”

You granted him permission with a short nod; he buried his face in the crook of your neck and rutted into you.  It took only a few more hard, heaving thrusts to bring about his release; Kastro slammed his hips against yours and came with a gasping, panting groan.  He took a few breaths before dipping to press a soft, deep kiss to your lips.  

You sighed, slowly, shakily unwrapping your legs from his waist and letting them fall to the bed.  Moments later cold air hit your body as Kastro rolled off to your side, flopping down next to you on the mattress.  He smiled and pulled you to him, holding you against his chest.  

You left to go and get cleaned up, only to return shortly afterwards.  Kastro finally broke the silence.  “So did I make it up to you?”

You nodded, suppressing a yawn.  “I’d say so.”

“Good.”  He fell silent again, his fingertips drawing idle circles against your skin.  “____, you’ll come tomorrow, right?”

How could you say no? You smiled, leaning in to kiss him.  “Of course,” you assured him, doing your best to suppress the familiar feeling of rising dread.  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Nothing can ever quite prepare anyone, you realize, for just how horrifying it is to watch someone die in Heavens Arena.  The blood.  The sickeningly dull thud of a body hitting the floor. The grotesque surrealism of hearing thousands of spectators cheer whilst the love of your life bleeds out.  Bile rises in your throat when you hear the commentator boisterously announce “Hisoka wins by a knockout!”  A knockout? He’s dead. 

An anguished cry tears itself from your throat as you run, desperate to get to the ring.  You cling to the tiniest, barest of hopes that he’s somehow survived.  Perhaps he can be saved.  Perhaps the wounds weren’t so bad.  Perhaps he’s only stunned...  Perhaps he won’t have to die alone.  

#kastro hxh #smuttastic #angst #tw death #tw blood

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

The Fight

Excuse me...You look like you’re around this area pretty often. Three nights ago, did you see a man in a white fedora head into the batting cages?

Hm. Can’t say for sure...What are you a police officer or something...

W-Well...something like that...

Hey, do you have a moment? I’m looking for info on a person. Recently, did you see a blonde man in a white fedora with a pencil mustache and goatee come by here?

Hey, trying to work here missy. Get lost...

Guess that’s not much of a lead...

Excuse me?

Hm? What’s wrong?

Do you have a moment? A few nights ago, a man in a white fedora stopped by the batting cages. Did you perhaps see anything?

Hm...Well, I can’t say I saw a man with anything like that. There’s a lot of people with weird fashion choices like that around these parts. Although...Sorry, how many nights ago exactly was he around?

About three. Why?

Well, I heard some drunkard smacked down a passing civilian that night.

A drunk man knocked someone down?

Yeah, but I don’t think he was hurt too badly. He was screaming angrily about it for half an hour or so though. I’m pretty sure this happened around midnight.

So that night, somebody was assaulted?

I came to check things out myself, but the guy was already long gone by that point.

Any idea who the man who got attacked was?

I could swear I recognized him from somewhere, but...I can’t really tell. He looked mostly like your average jou.

Thanks for your cooperation. Have a good evening sir.

Not much of a lead then...Guess I’d better contact Ms Kirigiri.

[Future Foundation Branch 1. Branch Chief Office]

So, in short, we’re fresh out of leads.

I’m sorry Ms Kirigiri...I tried...

I already told you, Kyoko is fine...

I can’t refer to you so casually after I failed you...

You didn’t fail anyone Shuichi. In the very least, you found out more information than I did.

*Kyoko opens the door to her office.

Hey...

Makoto? I thought you’d have left hours ago...

Sayaka went back home, but I figured if I did the same, I’d just collapse. I did go out for a bit of fresh air though.

So instead, you’re in here, drinking my juice?

Sorry...got thirsty...

Oh well...Are all of the files done, or is there anymore for me to help with.

All done, no worries.

Anyway, how did the investigation go? What’s the situation?

They’ve got Shuichi and I gathering evidence for a murder trial. Turns out Koichi Kizakura went and got himself arrested...

What!?

A member of the Crazy Diamond biker gang organisation was found half-decapitated behind a nightclub.

We dropped by the holding center to talk to him. He claims he’s innocent, so we went around looking for information. We didn’t find anything solid though.

That’s...one hell of a case you’ve got on your hands...Do you need any help with it?

I’m sure we can handle it.

Well, if things get dicey, then let me know. I’ll jump in and help whenever you need.

Will do, thanks.

For now though, I think we should all go home and get some rest. I’m sure you, Maki and Himiko have some catching up to do, right Shuichi?

Yeah, I wonder how they’re going to react to all this...

Goodnight you guys. See you in the morning.

Night...

*The next morning. Kyoko is sitting at her desk in her office spacing out when suddenly she gets a phone call.

Hello? Detective Kyoko Kirigiri of Future Foundation Branch 1?

Um...Hello Ms Kirigiri...It’s me. We met yesterday, do you remember?

Ms Midori Yamaguchi I presume?

Y-Yes, it’s me. Listen, sorry to do this so out of the blue, but I’m currently at a cafe in the city. I can send you the address, so can you and your sidekick meet me there? I have some important information about the case.

A bit impromptu of you Ms Yamaguchi, but very well. I’ll contact Shuichi and meet you there in an hour.

[Unnamed City, Unnamed Cafe, 10:01]

Hey! We’re over here. Pull up a chair.

Officer Shinogi!?

Yep, your good old friendly policeman's here. Sorry if I’m a bother.

It’s not that, just...is there any reason you’re here?

I’m the one with the info. Ms Yamaguchi’s already seen what I’ve shown her...

I figured it would be better if he’s here. He can explain some things that I can’t.

I see. Very well then. Thank you for your cooperation officer.

No prob...

*Shuichi pulls up two chairs, one for him and one for Kyoko.

Ok, so...You guys go first. Did you go to the batting cages?

We asked around that area. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find anyone who could back up Koichi Kizakura’s alibi.

I see. Well, thank you regardless, and good work, both of you.

So, why did you call us out here? Some new info?

Take a look at this...

*Officer Shinogi slides a phone to the two detectives.

The police released this to the public late last night. It’s security camera footage that shows outside the Mighty Anchor.

Mr Kizakura and Mr Isao are both in this video, clear as the sky.

*Midori plays the footage. It shows Kizakura running into a bunch of men in leather jackets, ranging from different sizes. All of them have the same emblem on the back. After learing at each other for a minute or two, Kizakura takes a swing at one of them, and hits him dead in the face. In response, the other gang members start beating down on him, while the one who was punched barks orders at the others and then walks down the street away from the chaos. The footage then shows one of the gang members waving the others inside. The other gang members then drag Kizakura’s brusied body inside the club. Soon after they’re out of sight, panicked people start pouring out of the building. When this is done, Midori pauses the footage.

See that guy beckoning the others into the club? That’s Isao.

I see. This is rock solid evidence of Koichi and the gangs fight.

Hm...I’m already noticing an inconsistency.

What’s that?

When we last spoke to him, Mr Kizakura told me that the fight happened, and the Crazy Diamonds started it.

But it seems that wasn’t the full truth. Kizakura very clearly takes the first swing here. Even if the gang threatened him, it’s clear he’s the one who turned it into a physical brawl.

Yes, you’re right. It’ll be hard for Koichi to talk his way out of this one...

But I have a question. That person with the spiky hair who got punched and started walking away...

Who is he?

About that...That guys name, is Eje Karma. He’s not just a run of the mill member of the gang either. He’s the entire gangs unanimously appointed leader.

He’s...the gangs leader?

Kizakura said as much. He said that their leader had been on the scene with them. Karma’s pretty much the duke of that entire area. He’s such a huge public menace, that even the area’s police are too afraid to go near him.

Be that as it may, I still had him questioned. Didn’t find out anything key though, since he kept dodging the question. Also, at the time, he had several of his goons with him. We wanted to avoid a fight, so we didn’t press for much.

What I’d like to know is how the Crazy Diamonds are able to have such an impact on a whole area. They’re a biker gang, not a yakuza group. Do you suppose they have some kind of hideout in the area?

That must be it. But that’s not all the information that we have.

There’s more?

Yup...This foootage was found at about 10 o’clock, apparently exactly the time Kizakura said this went down. But here’s the thing...I’m about to fast forward the footage to an hour later...

*He does so and the footage shows something else.

What’s going on here?

At this point in time, everyone who was in the bar, except for the barista himself, have left the facility. But an hour after Kizakura’s dragged into the bar, the Barista himself, alongside four other members of the gang, leave the building. That means the only people in the building at this point in time...

Are Koichi Kizakura and Kawaguchi Isao...

Why would Isao decide to stick around?

Who knows? I try not to understand the mentality of thugs like that...

Wait a second...

What?

You said the first footage was recorded at 10pm, and the second was an hour later. That means everyone left the bar and left the two of them alone at 11pm.

But if what the files I’ve read on the case state is true, Isao was murdered at 1am at the earliest and 3am at the latest.

Then there’s a minimum 2 hour gap!

What do you suppose Kizakura and Isao were doing during that wide time frame?

Mr Kizakura told me that as soon as the situation became one on one, he recovered and started fighting back. As soon as he saw an opening, he took it, and won their fight.

But he claims that he just beat him around and knocked him out. He didn’t kill him.

If that’s the case...then what did Kizakura do with Isao’s unconscious body?

I feel if we ask him, he’ll answer by saying he just left him there. However, he claims that that fight was the last time he ever saw Isao, and he also said that he woke up inside the bar after the barista helped him get healthy again. If that’s the case, then clearly he either got up and left, or someone else moved him.

After that, Koichi left the club and headed straight to the batting cages. He burst in and at some point, passed out. He woke up at four in the morning, an hour after the predicted time-frame of death.

Well, I can’t keep playing a case like this too close, since I’m on the local force and whatnot, but I’ve got a thing that could help you find out more about this, Detective.

What’s that Officer?

You see this guy?

*Shinogi points to a certain person in the video footage.

This guy is the barista that runs the nightclub. The police have got him down at the club itself, so you can go down and ask him a few questions.

I see. In that case, we’ll head there right away. Thank you officer.

Good luck Ms Kirigiri. If you find out anything, let me know.

Thank you for your help Ms Yamaguchi and Officer Shinogi.

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa 1 #danganronpa v3 #your turn to die #yttd #danganronpa another 2 #dr1 #drv3 #sdra2 #shuichi saihara #kyoko kirigiri #keiji shinogi #makoto naegi #midori yamaguchi #the trial of koichi kizakura arc

[shalebridge-cradle]

Historical References in What Are You Going to Do With Your Life? Chapters 4-6

Chapter 4

Whoever is getting executed… would probably be better off at Tyburn, for all the indignity they will suffer. Tyburn was where the regular criminals got hanged, including the ringleaders of the Pilgrimage of Grace (see below). Tower Hill was the next step up (this is where George Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell and both Thomas and Edward Seymour were executed), then Tower Green, where Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard were beheaded.

The song Anne sings (and is referenced in the opening notes) is called With Her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm, written in 1934 and found here. The three queens referenced in the last verse are the same three that appear in this scene – Jane Seymour, Anne Boleyn, and Catherine Parr.

Anne Boleyn is trying hard not to reference all the people she saw tortured and killed while haunting the Tower, including her sister-in-law Jane Parker-Boleyn and her cousin Katherine Howard. And also likely bemoaning the fact she can’t play with Henry’s mace-gun.

Catherine’s attempted mugging is a reference to two things – her near-execution for heresy during her third marriage, and being held hostage by the Pilgrimage of Grace during her second (a rebellion against Henry’s break from the Catholic church – her husband at the time, John Neville, was a Catholic who wasn’t directly involved, and some participants attempted to force him to support their cause).

Catherine Parr was the first English queen to be Queen of both England and Ireland, following Henry’s adoption of the title of King of Ireland in 1542.

Chapter 5

Anne Boleyn was charged with adultery, treason and incest – but not witchcraft. Henry VIII, however, did claim he had been seduced into the marriage by ‘sortilege’, a French word meaning either ‘deception’ or ‘spells’.

Anna’s comment about Parr’s looks was recorded by Eustace Chapuys, Holy Roman ambassador to England. Cleves was quoted saying regarding the marriage, “Madam Parr is taking a great burden on herself”. She was right.

“When you started opening and closing that locket in front of me, it made me feel… angry. Is that what you want?” Henry gave Jane Seymour a locket with a miniature portrait of himself in it, which Jane started opening and closing in Queen Anne’s presence. Anne ripped the locket off of her with such force, she injured her hand in doing so.

Jane Seymour’s only reported involvement in her husband’s politics was in 1536, where she asked the king to pardon the participants of the Pilgrimage of Grace. The king refused, and supposedly reminded her of Boleyn’s fate should she go against him in the future.

‘Yea’ and ‘Nay’ were used concurrently with ‘Yes’ and ‘No’, but in different contexts. ‘Yea’ and ‘Nay’ were used for positively-phrased questions (“Will they go?” “Do you think he deserved it?”), with yea as confirmation and nay as contradiction.‘Yes’ and ‘No’ were for negatively-phrased questions (“Will they not go?” “Doesn’t that hurt?”), with no as confirmation and yes as a contradiction.

The false claims Anne makes about her personal appearance are most likely to be attributed to Nicholas Sander, a Catholic propagandist who was in exile during the reign of Elizabeth I. Her skeleton was exhumed during Queen Victoria’s reign – she was about 5’ 3”, and did not have a sixth finger on either hand.

Parr’s comments are in reference to The Six Wives of Henry VIII by Alison Weir. The assumption about Howard being an ‘empty-headed wanton’ is made on page 3.

Chapter 6

Boleyn was “going through some stuff” in the 1600s because Elizabeth I died in 1603. The events she makes reference to are the Great Plague of London, the Great Fire of London, and the English Civil War.

How is it that the country thought the best move was to decapitate the body politic?  The ‘body politic’ is a long-standing metaphor by which a state, society or church is compared to a biological organism (usually a human body). In a monarchy, the king was usually depicted as either the heart or the head of this body, the latter shown in this terrifying book cover.

Parr’s nightmare is reference to when her tomb was opened in 1782 by John Locust. He reports that the body was in good condition, than that the flesh on her arm was ‘white and moist’, and that he took a few locks of her hair before sealing her up again. The next time the coffin was opened, nothing was left but a skeleton.

Maria? I cannot see you. Do not leave me alone. Where are you? María de Salinas, Baroness Willoughby de Eresby and ‘Maria on the drums’, reportedly held Catherine of Aragon as she died, having forced her way into Kimbolton Castle to see her. Catherine Parr was reported to have learned Spanish after becoming queen, and so the language is translated.

Henry VIII’s last wife was young enough to be named after his first. Gross.

“What happened to Mary? Was she queen? Was she happy?” Queen? Yes. Happy? Hard no. Mary I was reported to have executed roughly 300 or so people during her reign. Even if we use the lower estimate of 50,000 people over 36 years, Henry VIII executed significantly more of his subjects per year (about 1400) than Mary did throughout her whole tenure as queen. It does not in any way excuse her actions (or the actions of monarchs before and after her), but the name ‘Bloody Mary’ likely comes from being on the wrong side of England’s conflict of faith.

The card game being played by Boleyn, Howard and von Kleve is Primero, which was popular in the Tudor period. You knock on the table and say “Vada” (Go) when you’re happy with your hand. If someone else has also knocked, you face off – the better hand wins.

‘The Cat Came Back’ is a comic song written in 1893 about a cat (colour varies depending on the version) that refuses to leave, despite what his reluctant owner does. I hate the song, but I like the pun.

The word beginning with ‘p’ that Howard was going to say was ‘poison’. There were rumours, also thrown around after the deaths of Catherine Parr and Edward VI, that Catherine of Aragon was poisoned. The black growth discovered on her heart during embalming wasn’t understood to be cancer at the time. This theory was mentioned by Christina of Denmark, one of Henry’s potential fourth wives and relative to Catherine of Aragon, as a reason she had no desire to marry Henry (amongst others). Boleyn refutes this potential cause of death; she, along with Henry, was a possible suspect.

(Side note: Christina of Denmark was pretty great. She reportedly struggled to keep a straight face while the English ambassador told her how gentle and kind Henry was, and supposedly said “If I had two heads, one should be at the King of England’s disposal”. She was out of the running pretty definitively, though not due to her ‘match with the Duke of Milan’ as per the show. He was dead as of 1535, and Christina was still a widow from 1537 to 1539, when Henry was pursuing her. She was married to the future Duke of Lorraine (Anne of Cleves’ old betrothed) in 1541.)

“…even though Boleyn will probably outplay me again.” I was researching whether or not Catherine of Aragon was reported to have played cards, and in doing so found many Etsy listings and one oil painting by a William Maw Egley. The line is a reference to both the events of the painting and Anne taking the position of queen from Catherine.

#the cradle will write #What Are You Going to Do With Your Life: Work

[jkbec]

wíckєd gαmєs (M).

genre ➙ Mafia!au: horror, angst, romance + smut — words ➙ 25.5k — pairing➙ jeon Jungkook x female reader

reupload from old account.

Playlist - spotify

Warning; Illicit narcotic use, Dom! Jungkook, public indecency, murder, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (female receiving and male receiving), mentions of mental illness, domestic violence, reckless law-breaking behaviour, explicit language and scenes.

"It's the fifth murder this month. The victim… a young woman in her early twenty's. She, unfortunately, has been murdered in the exact same fashion as the rest of the homicide victims we've been having this month. Sliced at the vital points of her neck, with a large ‘X' carved in the centre of her chest as well as the mutilation of her body. The killer is extremely intelligent, clean and précised with his killing methods. This person knows what they are doing and are incredibly good at it. You need to pick up the pace and find a lead on this investigation (L/N) were losing too many innocent lives."

5:00 am illuminates on your digital bedside alarm clock. Your eyes droop as you frown bitterly at the realisation that you once again had a sleepless night consisting of overthinking and binge-watching crime documentaries on YouTube. The aches in your neck and back from staying in a slouched position too long makes you groan in agony. The stresses obtained from your field of work is rapidly catching up to you, as you make your start to your day by washing your face, brushing your teeth and swiping on large amounts of concealer under your eyes as you could to minimise the tiredness and exhaustion you physically felt by your visibly dark circles and eye bags. The ringing in your ears and painful swelling in your chest seems to be worsening as you blankly stare at your reflection through the fingerprint-smudged bathroom mirror in front of you.

"I am happy to you inform Miss (L/N) that the symptoms you have been experiencing these past few months are common physical aspects of a panic attack or anxiety. You also seem to have some swelling in your chest which is something I would identify as Costochondritis. " The silence is almost deafening as you gape up at the doctor in complete shock. The agony you have been feeling in your head, joints, muscles and chest were all just from anxiety? The doctor examines your test results assertively smiling down at you.

"So basically…You’re telling me that I'm not dying- just severely anxious?" You ask feeling completely hopeless at the realisation you had been overthinking about your health for absolutely nothing. “I swear that I am not  a hypochondriac!”  

The doctor chuckles at your outburst as he faces you while holding out your medical records. You take them from him gently and scan through the information on the sheets of paper. 

"Yes. I can tell you confidently that you are in fact not dying and are experiencing the physical symptoms of anxiety." He smiles reassuringly at you.

"I-I…oh-um so like can you help me like not feel like this?-"

"-The most I can do for you is refer you to see a psychologist or prescribe you with some antidepressants medication…is there anything happening in your life that is particularly stressful and is taking up a lot of your time and energy?"

"No. I-No, not really."

"Well, just by looking at you I can see that you are mentally and physically exhausted. I would take it easy for time being and maybe take a week off from work to give your body the proper rest and relaxation it deserves. As for the Costochondritis just take some ibuprofen along with some hot and cold therapy on the muscles."

"Taking time off work is something that's just not going to happen any time soon…" You mumble to yourself quietly as you fight back tears. Your grip on your cold bathroom basin tightens until your knuckles turn white. Your fresh mascara smudging slightly under your eyes. "Oh, that's just great." Your breath hitches in your throat, as you struggle to look at your reflection in the mirror. Never, in your years of living have you ever been as stressed as you were now. The struggle of adulthood is illustrated through your whole day-to-day routine of getting little to no sleep and running on caffeinated drinks. As you fight to solve case after case. Hard work, motivation and praises are becoming repetitive as you battle with other detectives to keep your position and remain where you currently were at your agency.

You were fortunate enough to land a stable job at a detective agency which paid really well and offered you enough experience to really rank up in the field. You always had a deep passion for justice and knew you were capable of working in this field of work, even though some of the shit you've seen over the years really did fuck you up mentally. The gruesome scenes of decapitated bodies, pools of blood and rotting corpses were just some things that took a while to get used to. You had always considered yourself to be mentally and physically capable of handling the more intense cases but there were a lot of very dangerous people out there with very horrible intentions and even worse actions. Your boss Kim Namjoon is a perfectionist, who expects nothing but the best from his colleagues when responding to cases. You have learned a lot from Namjoon and considered him to be someone you looked up to and respected. However, he is also the reason for your horrible anxiety and stress.

When it came to Namjoon everything had to be sorted in perfect order, every opinion had to carry sophistication and certainty. You wake up at the butt crack of dawn to make sure you put together, researching, examining and investigating.  You are not someone to kiss ass to rank up in positions. If you were going to show your worth it will be done through hard work and dedication. You were clearly overworking yourself but you needed to put in the extra effort to do your job to the best of your abilities. Although, perfection is Kim Namjoon and perfection is something you desired to obtain. To prove yourself even further you needed to find the infamous killer circling the media and your detective office. Namjoon trusted your ability as a detective to crack this case. However, never in your years of experience as a detective have you ever come across such a careful and well calculated, cold-blooded killer.

"Just by observing the way these unfortunate victims have been killed by this ruthless killer indicates that the killer has knowledge on human anatomy." Kim Namjoon points directly at the disfigured images of the murderer's victims on his pinboard. The atmosphere in the meeting room is instantly tense as your co-workers grimly peer at the images some with curiosity, horror or just pure disgust.

You inhale and exhale as you pat down your hair and lightly rub under your eyes in a pathetic attempt to clean the smudged mascara under your eyes and calm down your racing heart. "You got this (Y/N). Relax." You repeatedly chant to yourself as you glance down at your wristwatch. “Shit! I’m gonna miss my train!” You exclaim in panic as you hastily slide on your clothes before speeding off and making your way towards your station. “I can’t believe my car still getting fixed.” You grumble as you continue to power walk, just making it in time for your train.

   _͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽

"Young Master Jeon welcome back! How was your trip to Dubai?" An older butler at the Jeon residence asks with politeness as he bows elegantly at the young bachelor who is twirling the keys to his custom black Koenigsegg CCXR in his right hand as his other is in his expensive black suit pants. 

"Hm. Average." He spoke blankly as he watches his servants bow to him with courtesy in two perfectly straight lines stretching from both sides of his mansions front door. The servants become stiff in his presence, the atmosphere in the large mansion immediately becoming thick with dread and spitefulness. "Are you hungry Master?" An older butler questions with classiness, making the chefs straighten up and gawk at Jungkook with distress. “We just brought in beautiful fresh lobster tails imported from Japan this morning, Master.” A chef states impulsively as he takes a cautious step forward, face filled with fear. “O-Or! We have some exquisite Australian Beef! We can-” The chef falls short with his outburst as Jungkook’s expression quickly becomes sour. Jungkook peers at his servants in annoyance as he ruffles his hair in slight agitation. "No. Where's my father?" The butler nods his head in a mixture of both relief and understanding before pointing sophisticatedly towards the large flight of stairs located at the centre of the mansion. "He's at his office speaking to a potential client at the moment." Sighing with pure frustration he places both his hands on his hips. His luxury car key dangling in his left hand. 

"Well when he's done, tell him I'll be going out tonight and I won't be home until early morning." Jungkook spat with arrogance while continuing to twirl his car keys in his hands, before turning around to walk up the long flight of marble stairs completely dismissing the butlers, maids and chefs that bow to him as he makes his getaway.

"As you wish Master."

With that, he is gone. As if he never arrived home in the first place. "Which car are we taking tonight JK?" Park Jimin murmurs as he slides another Laguna beach ring on his slender fingers while he smirks up at Jungkook through the pure gold embraided mirror in Jeon Jungkook's room. "I was thinking of taking out my matte black Lambo or Lykan Hypersport but we can take the Maserati GranTurismo and be more casual if you want." Jungkook murmurs as he fastens his Louie Vuitton cufflink, smirking up at Jimin as he rolls up his sleeves, outlining his muscles from underneath his white dress shirt. Jimin bites his plump lips as he hovers his delicate index finger over all twelve of Jungkook’s car keys laid out in front of him. "Hm." He hums as he sneers up at Jungkook before picking up a car key, throwing it to him. Jungkook chuckles and lifts up his right hand swiftly catching the keys with a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Lamborghini it is."

The engine roars as Jungkook starts the luxury sports car. "Live life simple". Is Jeon Jungkook's life motto, even though his life was nowhere near being simple. He taps the side of his luxury car to open the mansions garage door. Jimin is ecstatic as he quickly connects his phone to the cars Bluetooth system, before going on to snapchat quickly to film Jungkook as he does a burn out as he speeds out the driveway of his million dollar mansion. "It's going to be a good night!" Jimin shouts as he swipes through his playlist on his phone, speedily finding a song and blasting the music louder to vibrate around the luxury car. Jungkook smirks as he speeds down the street with one hand on the leather steering wheel.

It wasn't easy being the son of one of the world's most well-known and feared mafia organisations. His father ran his illegal and ruthless business for decades now. As the gang grew, so did the expectations, illegal transactions and contracts. From a young age, he has been privately tutored. His relaxation time consisted of excessive gym workouts, video games and research of other mafia organisations which could be a threat to his father and himself. Jungkook didn't know how to actually take a break. From a child he was placed under a lot of pressure from his father, there were all these expectations that he'd be the best and nothing but the best. Jungkook's father didn't believe in vacations and breaks, which resulted in Jungkook being robbed of a normal childhood, rich or not he never knew when enough was enough and always tried to improve in any area he felt he lacked in. Jungkook is perfection and there was no one who could one-up him in anything. As he grew older, the stress and pressure kept growing until he was pushed to breaking point and it takes a lot to get Jeon Jungkook to break.

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"-Jungkook I am warning you. No more fucking around. I did not raise you to be this reckless and barbaric!" His father shouts as he slams an expensive 4.7 million dollar vase against the brick wall of his office. "I am sorry father it won't happen again."

"Listen to me. You need to get your fucking priorities straight. We already have thousands of enemies after us. We can't just simply fuck up all the time. He doesn't want to pay up, the fucking bastard! Even when we have given him one of our finest bags of cocaine. Do not make a deal without the customer paying first. I don't care if he's one of our most trusted customers or not. You can’t trust anyone in this world. This is a fucking amateur mistake even for you."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sending you back to Dubai. You know what to do. I won't tell you again Jungkook." Jungkook silently swallows as his father slowly approaches him, leaving only an inch of space between them.

"Kill him. I want you to meet up with Mr Moon and fucking annihilate him"

"Yes, Father."

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After meeting his current best friends Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung in University he finally learnt how to wind down and relax. The two equivalently as rich bachelors saved Jungkook from overworking himself and taught him how to waste his time doing things that could help him relax. There were only a few ways Jungkook knew how to wind down after being put under so much stress and anxiety. The endless collection of luxury vehicles was only one of them. The other things he liked to do to pass time was through the illicit use of illegal narcotics he owns and pays people to make, while the other consisted of fucking random girls and getting excessively drunk. So drunk that he'd get the sudden urge to kill and release his frustrations from his father and his business on innocent victims he'd target throughout his night. Jungkook, unlike Jimin and Taehyung, wasn't very interested in money and material things. Jungkook was no stranger to murder and reckless drug use. He has everything…the routine gets boring. Purchasing a new car, a new watch or property. None of that gave him the rush he needed to feel alive. Nothing was more euphoric to him than a good fuck and kill. The exciting rush of adrenaline setting him off. 

“Jungkook maybe you should really refrain from killing your bitches.” Yoongi huffs in annoyance as he enters Jungkook’s room, peering at the dead body from his doorway. The blood from his victim soaking his bed sheets and dripping onto the marble floor. Her naked and brutally attacked body is covered in stabbed wounds and slash marks. “It’s going to get on your carpet man.” Yoongi ruffles his hair before shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he turns his head away in disgust. “Can’t I just do my thing without anyone questioning it Yoongi?" Jungkook retorts in agitation, as he clamps a hand over his eyes, trying to ignore the head splitting headache he felt from being hungover. "You really need to stop with these wicked games Jungkook," Yoongi says finally walking over to him, stopping once he was right in front of him. "Just hurry up and get someone to clean this fucking mess. It’s starting to smell.” Jungkook mutters in irritation as he glares at Yoongi before walking towards his bathroom completely stark naked. Yoongi peers at the scares on his body before sighing. “It’s always me doing the dirty work.”

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It was supposed to be a one-time thing. A simple release of stress and anxiety. However, it slowly became into something Jungkook just could not control. What started off as one victim, turned into two, then into three before he knew it he had lost count. He had lost count of the multiple people he has killed men and women alike. It became a pattern and something he couldn't withhold. He just needed to release his frustration in some type of way that actually works for him. It just happened to be through murdering the people he slept with on a lonely intoxicated spent night. Jungkook downs his glass of expensive champagne before using his diamond credit card without any limit on spending to line up his favourite white substance. He snorts it as the music around him blast through the speakers of Full Moon. One of the many clubs that he owns and likes to visit very frequently to release his stress.

"Hey, there handsome." A female voice speaks over the loud music playing the club and Jungkook bites down onto his bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to prevent a smile from stretching across his gorgeous lips. "Any more for me?" She pouts teasingly, before running her manicured fingers down the fine quality of his dress shirt. He narrows his eyes at her as he whips around to face her. He chuckles while taking in her appearance. Her botox lips, silicone breasts and butt injections were exceptionally recognisable as the incredibly short dress and low cut top left little to the imaginations as she leans herself closer to his masculine figure. He smirks at her obvious advances and he leans closer towards her. She definitely wasn’t worth the fuck but she’d make a pretty good kill.

"I don't know doll face I don't think you can handle this." He murmurs clasping his hands together as he rests his elbows against the fine wood of the bar booth. Her eyes glint as they wander across the expensive rings on his fingers and the Rolex clasped around his wrist. "Oh, I don't know about that handsome. Why don't you give me some and we'll see?" She bites her lip as she places a bald hand on one of his thick thighs. Jungkook laughs as he covers his mouth with one of his hands as the other taps his credit card on the counter in annoyance. "Hmm how about it beautiful?" She moans leaning closer towards Jungkook's face to place a kiss. Jungkook moves quickly before pushing her hand off his thigh, while hostilely pressing her against the counter of the bar. "You don't get to touch me or my shit okay?" She swallows nervously, before nodding her head quickly. The dark clouding in his eyes takes her breath away as he violently wraps his fingers around her neck. "Get your pathetic self out of my fucking sight before I fucking kill you." She scampers away hastily, tripping slightly in the process.

"Wow. You really know how to talk to the ladies." Jimin chuckles as he pours himself a cup of whiskey. Jungkook shrugs before putting his hands into his pocket, eyes now focusing on his friend. "Let's go to the VIP section, Taehyung's just arrived and he brought Yoongi." Jimin grins as he swirls around his alcoholic beverage eyes watching the ice clack against the fine glass before looking up at Jungkook with a smirk. Jungkook's eyes narrow as he nods, wordlessly walking in the direction of the VIP section. "There's my favourite billionaire! How are you JK?" Taehyung shouts while slinging an arm around Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook chuckles patting Taehyung on the chest. "Blessed you in my presence like always man," Jungkook smirks before making eye contact with Yoongi as he slowly approaches the pair sluggishly. "You got the stuff?" Yoongi mutters pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing smoke to the side.

Jungkook smirks as he pulls out a bag of white substance from the inside of his lavish blazer. "Always." He mutters before throwing the bag of coke to him. Yoongi catches it with a wide grin, exposing his gummy smile. "I missed you JK." He murmurs, as Jungkook winks at him in response. Jimin downs his drink as Taehyung eagerly races over to Yoongi to get some of the powdered cocaine.

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You sigh for the tenth time as you peer up at the clock hanging on the wall adjacent from you. If the time on the clock was correct, which it is, you should have left the agency to go home five hours ago. "Namjoon really needs to start paying us overtime because this is the twentieth time we've stayed back to do the paperwork and I’m serious (Y/n) I counted! I am not getting any younger. Or am I? I look pretty sexy today actually, don’t you think (Y/n)?" Your detective partner grumbles as he staples some papers together, peering down at you with a pout.

You nod while yawning not really paying attention to anything your colleague was saying to you. “You didn’t even look at me!” He whines and you hum in acknowledgement. You were too exhausted to speak, exhaling as you, read through your investigations closely. You had just been drilled by your boss Kim Namjoon about your cases and the stress of finding a lead to the recent murders makes your chest and head hurt. Massaging your temples, you glance at your empty coffee mug, contemplating for another cup of coffee to wake you up. You sigh again reaching towards the mess of papers against your desk. You start stacking them ready to turn in for the night. "Don't tell me you are still upset about what happened 4 hours ago (Y/n)? Cheer up! So Namjoon told you off? Big deal! He yells at me all the time and I'm older than him. The guy’s just like that. Don’t take it personally." Your partner tries to cheer you up as he helps you stack papers from the cases you have been investigating. 

"Please just stop Jin! I can't believe we don't have any leads. I wasted another entire day at work drinking coffee and getting yelled at by Namjoon…" You whine, slouching against your computer chair as you purse your lips into a pout, looking at your partner Kim Seokjin. "You are already one of the most respected detectives at this agency. Namjoon pushes you hard because he knows you can deliver the results. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jin says moving behind to rest his hands on your shoulders. “It’s not enough Jin. I am not enough. I need to try harder.”

Jin's hands that rested on your shoulder begins massaging them. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you feel your tense muscles begin to loosen. Jin rolls his eyes before sighing. "You know what. When was the last time you got a massage? You are way too tense! Why don't we go out? Just like to go and grab a couple of drinks? I mean it's Friday night you could obviously use a well-deserved break you work-acholic!" Jin exclaims releasing your shoulders as he starts impulsively packing away your things into your handbag. "Woah Jin what are you-"

"Come on get yo prude ass up. We're going out." He pulls you off your chair and onto your feet as he pats you down, from your crinkled blouse to your pencil skirt. "Lucky you got heels on tonight! You look great, there's a club/bar close to our agency were going to go to let off some steam. You really could use a couple of drinks. As your loyal detective partner and friend, I am not going to let you suffer like this. Your way too young to be looking like this. Where's your youth gone?" He complains as he places your handbag on your shoulder, before grabbing your car keys. "Wait, seriously Jin I don't really feel like-"

"Shut up! Stop protesting! Admit it you want to drink." Jin ushers you out of the agency before turning off the lights and looking up the door. "I-I…okay." You murmur, rolling your eyes as Jin winks at you, shooting finger guns. "Which club are we going to anyway?" You ask taking your hair out of the ponytail you previously had it in.

"Full Moon," Jin mumbles as motions you to follow him. He stuffs his hands into his pockets as he begins walking in the direction of the club. "Full Moon?" You say raising an eyebrow up at him in confusion. "Yeah. Full Moon. You haven't you heard of it?" He questions with wide eyes. "N-No…" You mutter slightly embarrassed. Jin peers at you questionably and you finally break. "Okay fine. Yes. I haven't heard of it. Sue me." Jin chuckles and pats you on the shoulder reassuringly. "It's fine. The club is extremely popular though. Apparently, some good-looking rich guy owns it. I know it's expensive. That famous actor Kim Taehyung goes there a lot and he's friends with the owner."

"Really!? Kim Taehyung. That's crazy." You exclaim at the shocking news of someone so famous going to the same club you were about to go to. "Wait Jin I-I is it going to be expensive because if it is I am still paying off car repairs and-"

"I got you (Y/N). Don't even worry about trivial things such as money." He reassures you with such a gleaming smile it was impossible to refuse him. "Okay, money is not trivial. It is what makes the world go around but…thank you so much, Jin."  Your smile widens as he gives you a dopey look. "It's nothing, but you owe me a coffee on Monday." You laugh at that last comment before nodding up at him. "We've been friends for so long now. I mean you are dating my best friend." Jin chuckles at the mention of his girlfriend who happens to be one of the most precious people in your life. "Yeah, that's true. I don't think she's busy tonight I already invited her…she should be meeting us there." Jin says checking the messages on his phone. "You are so whipped for her."

"You know it." He winks at you before you both burst out laughing. "(Y/N)! Your best friend shouts as she wraps her arms around you. "Oh, you fucking scared me!" You both laughed as Jin wraps his arms around her from behind. “You look amazing baby!” Jin compliments her before giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. You avert your gaze from the couple pretending to puke. She laughs before slapping your arm playfully. “Don’t look at me like that! You just need to get laid.” She says pocking her tongue out at you. “Shut up you little thot.” You say bitterly, causing Jin to laugh embarrassingly loud. "Woah, so this is the club?" Your best friend exclaims as she stares at the club with her mouth wide open in shock. Your eyes widened dumbfounded at the long queue of ridiculously rich looking people waiting in line outside. The club is buzzing and bustling loud with paparazzi in all directions trying to take pictures and sneak their way get in. "oh this is the club and It's busy alright," Jin mutters as he ushers both you and your best friend into the queue of people. "Must be some famous people in there if there is paparazzi clowning around right outside." Your best friend whispers in your ear and you nod back at her. "Jin told me that a Kim Taehyung comes here a lot."

"Really!? The actor?" Your best friend exclaims peering into the club through a window. "Gosh, I hate how these windows are tinted we can't see anything inside." Jin groans trying to peer through the window. Your best friend laughs before slapping her boyfriend on the arm lightly. "Hey stop! People from the inside can see you even though you can't see them." You all chuckle at that. Jin doing his famous window wiper laugh. “We are going to be waiting out here all night and this rate.” You utter dejectedly. Jin opens his mouth to retort to your comment only to be interrupted by a girl waiting at the front. "Oh hey someone's coming out!" The random girl in front of you shrieks as she notices the slender handsome guy exiting through the front door of the club to whisper something to the bouncer at the front that you assume must be urgent from the stern look on his face. Your eyes widened in amazement at the realisation that this particular person was extremely good-looking. “Wow.” Your best friend whispers in your ear before nudging you. Without looking at her you nod, completely agreeing, as the girls around you guys start to scream and shout as they shower the said person with compliments and random praises.

"Park Jimin!!!!!!!" Girls, nearby you start to scream as he waves at them humbly, totally dismissing their chaotic behaviour. Jimin is unfazed by the attention he is receiving, the radiant smile on his face never faltering once. “Park Jimin?” You repeat as your eyes stay glued on him. He is stunning and has this unexplainable glow to him. You are mesmerised by the mere sight of him.

"Woah really Park Jimin!?" Jin shouts staring at the attractive boy with wide eyes. "What is It Jin?" Your best friend asks resting her hand on his shoulder, as she peers at Jimin curiously. Jin doesn't take his eyes off Jimin as he stares at him with his mouth slightly agape. Jimin continues giving his attention to the girls surrounding the club. The paparazzi camera flashes almost blinded you, as people begin to eagerly take videos and photos of Jimin. While he was giving the girls a bit of fan service, Jimin notices Jin and instantly his own eyes begin to widen once he realises who he’s looking at.

"Is that you Jin?" He questions ushering him to come closer. You and your best friend instantly stiffen at the sudden wave of attention brought to your group. The long queue instantly parts in the middle making you both a pathway to walk through. "Okay, why the fuck is Park Jimin motioning you to go over to him? And who the fuck is he?" Your best friend harshly whispers to Jin.  Jin laughs nervously avoiding the question before ushering you both to the front of the queue.

Once you all started getting closer to Jimin, his eyes began to sparkle as he stares at Jin fondly. "Seokjin! It is you! It has been ages man how are you?" Jimin is ecstatic as he wraps Jin into a long heartfelt embrace. "It has been so long, I haven't seen you since College." At the mention of college, you and your best friend begin to relax knowing that Seokjin comes from a wealthy family and studied abroad at an expensive elite University which is probably how he knows someone as famous as Jimin.

"Congratulations on expanding your business. I heard you opened a lot of new hotels globally." Jin mentions, making Jimin flustered as he runs his fingers through his hair. You watch him feeling a blush of your own brush against your cheeks. He was so gorgeous that you suddenly felt your social anxiety eating away at your heart. Your best friend wraps a hand around your trembling ones in an attempt to relax you. You tighten your grips on her hands without taking your gaze off Jimin.

Jimin notices your gaze and peers at you intently with a hint of cockiness soothing out of him. He clearly knew he was attractive. His eyes widen for a split-second before relaxing when you force a smile at him. A playful glint appears in his eyes as he stares at you for a few seconds too long. "Aren't you going to introduce me to these lovely ladies Jin?" Jimin playfully says curtly while tilting his head to the side slowly. His eyes wandering down your body to scan you from head to toe. If you weren't red before you were definitely red now. "Oh yes, of course, this is (B/F/N) my girlfriend and this is her best friend and my work colleague (Y/N)." Jin introduces you both to Jimin and Jimin smiles at you both dreamily, before shaking hands with your best friend. "Nice to meet you! Any friend of Jin's is a friend of mine." Your best friend says smiling up at Jimin who returns her smile sweetly. "You got yourself a keeper Jin, she suits you." Jin smiles at her tenderly, placing a kiss to her temples while wrapping an arm around her waist. "Yeah. I think so too. Glad you agree." Jimin smiles at Jin before shifting his eyes over to you. You jump slightly the moment your eyes meet and he's moving closer to you quickly. You feel yourself become weak as he grasps onto your hand gently. He comfortingly rubs his thumbs against the back of your as his hold tightens. "Nice to meet you (Y/N)" He slowly lifts your palm towards his soft lips. Your breath hitches in your throat as he teasingly winks before placing a soft kiss at the palm of your hand.  

You feel the heat of envy from the girls around you as they glare at you. You pull your hand out of Jimin's hold quickly before forcing another tight smile at him up at him in response. "Nice to meet you too Jimin," Jimin smirks before placing a hand at your lower back, forcing you to turn and face the entrance of the club. He escorts you all towards the door. "We can talk inside." He says simply Jin nods in delight, while your best friend smirks at you cheekily. You shyly avert your gaze away from Jimin knowing he staring right at you "Stop." Your mouth to her in embarrassment as she snickers in response. "Thanks for getting us in man," Jin says rubbing Jimin on the shoulders. "Anything for fabulous Kim Seokjin." Jimin chuckles before facing the bouncer. "These guys are with me," Jimin says simply to the bouncer who nods in response. "Whatever you say, Boss."

You all happily enter the club and Jimin escorts you to the bar. "If it wasn't for you  we would have been waiting outside forever." Your best friend chuckles as she beams up at Jimin. "Oh, its nothing don't even mention it." Jimin smoothly says while returning her smile politely. "So is it you who owns this club?" Jin asks as Jimin waves over the bartender. The bartender sophisticatedly picks up an expensive bottle of champagne before placing the alcoholic beverage in front of Jimin as well as fine glass cups. "Nah this club actually belongs to Jungkook," Jimin says unbothered and Jin immediately stiffens at the mention of Jungkook's name. "Jungkook huh," Jin says slowly while laughing awkwardly, you and your best friend immediately peer up at him in confusion and he glances at you both in slight agitation as he loosens his tie in an attempt to get you both to not ask. Jimin is oblivious to the sudden awkward tension has he opens an expensive bottle of Champagne that you knew probably costed more than your whole annual salary.

"Woah. Look at the bottle" Your best friend mutters as you all stare at the bottle wide-eyed. Jimin hands Jin and his girlfriend a glass before giving you a glass. His fingers slyly brush against yours and you stiffen in response as he winks at you. "Cheers to finally reuniting!" Jimin says placing his cup in front of the three to clack together. "Bottoms up!"

You all down your glasses. You were slower than the rest in an attempt to savour the expensive taste, thinking you will never be able to have this kind of champagne again. “We’re at the VIP Booth.” He says nonchalantly pointing to the back of the club. “You all should come and join us,” Jimin says after downing his champagne glass. “I’ll just have to let Jungkook know I’m bringing you guys in there because he gets a bit iffy with this sort of stuff. Just wait here I’ll be back in a flash. Don’t miss me too much.” Jimin says winking at you before rushing away ignoring the panicked expression on Jin’s face.

“So who’s Jungkook? And why’d you totally freak out and stiffen up like that?” Your best friend asks as she averts her gaze from Jimin’s back to Jin’s conflicted face. Jin looks at both your curious faces and sighs in defeat. “Let’s just say the kid’s got some problems,” Jin says trying to get you both to drop the question completely.

“What kind of problems Jin?” You asked raising an eyebrow at him curiously. Your best friend nods, folding her arms as she raises an eyebrow up at Jin. He shakes his head while massaging his temples. “It’s kind of complicated-“

“What kind of problems Jin?” Your best friend raises her voice as she cuts of Jin, looking at him irritably. Jin’s eyes begin to scan the room as he fidgets nervously, palm rubbing the back of his neck as he thinks his words over. “Like the mafia, breaking the law, drug selling kind of problems…”

You and your best friend stare up at Jin shocked and he bites his lip in response. “Are you being serious?” Your best friend exclaims. “-Um. Maybe we should go home.” Jin says ruffling his hair as he falls deep in thought while staring in the direction that Jimin took off in, trying to avoid any more questions being asked. “No. We just got here. We can’t just go home.” Your best friend says touching Jin on the shoulder gently. “Why?” You ask in concern. “Look, whatever happens, tonight. Jeon Jungkook can absolutely not find out were detectives.” Jin exclaims looking genuinely stressed out. Never in your many years of knowing and working with Jin have you ever seen look this concerned. He was always so carefree and relaxed even when dealing with the intense cases back at the detective agency. Why was he so concerned about a random club owner? When he deals with way worse on the daily. “Why can’t he find out were detectives?” Your best friend asks running her hand up and down Jin’s arm soothingly, looking sincerely concerned about his behaviour.

“Because if Jeon Jungkook finds out were detectives we are all going to fucking die tonight.”

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“Father…”

"Yes, Jungkook?" He looks at Jungkook through his glasses as he pauses counting the piles of money stacked up on his desk. "What do you want? I'm really busy here." He asks running out of patience as he waits for young Jungkook to answer.

"When…you hold a knife to someone's throat…how easy is it for them to die?"

The silence is almost ear-splitting as he peers at his son with curious eyes. "Why do you want to know?" He asks taking off his glasses, placing them gently on the side of his desk as he leans back on his chair while crossing his arms. "I just-"

"Listen to me carefully Jungkook…If you want to play with knives you need to learn how to use them correctly. Slicing someone's throat is typically done for the effect. If the victims not alone, the sound will make their colleagues shit themselves. It's scary as it is. I mean, coming up to your victim from behind with the sharp knife in your hand, cupping a hand over their mouth, slicing across their neck, watching the pools of blood squirt out. However, if you really want to kill them it would be better to stab them, puncture the trachea, oesophagus and of course the carotid arteries and jugular veins. It really shows how easy it is to take a life. It's truly intriguing."

"Earth to Jungkook." Taehyung chuckles distastefully loud before flicking Jungkook on the forehead lightly. Jungkook's bloodshot eyes avert from the random wall he was staring at as he was lost in thought to Kim Taehyung. He stares back at him in a daze as the effects of the drugs begin to take place. "Man, you were like deep in thought, what the fuck were you thinking about?" Jungkook's mouth stretches up in the corner as he forces a smile at his friend. "Some dark shit Taehyung, you really wanna know?"

"Nah, I'll pass we all know how fucked up you are." He laughs pouring himself some more expensive liquor. "Pass me your cup," Jungkook smirks, sitting up before placing his glass in front of Taehyung. Taehyung smirks back at Jungkook before pouring his drink even fuller than he poured his own. "Yeah fill it any further it's going to overflow.” Jungkook laughs in disbelief as he peers at his cup intrigued by Taehyung's inattentive actions. "Hey, Hoseok!" Yoongi exclaims as he walks into the VIP room with style. "Long time no see guys." He says before leisurely taking a seat next to Yoongi. "Want a drink Hobi?" Taehyung teases as he wriggles the expensive bottle of champagne in his hand. "You never play fair Tae." Yoongi chuckles as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him. "You know me." He says shrugging, the smile on face growing as he peers back at Jungkook who was side-eyeing him. "Yeah pour me some," Hoseok says as he takes the cigarette offered to him by Yoongi, placing it between his teeth and lighting it with a pure gold lighter. "Aw, Yoongi there might not be any left for you." Taehyung chuckles pouring as a pours a glass for Hoseok. "I swear you have a death wish Tae-"

"Hey, Jungkook!" Jimin exclaims as he walks into the VIP booth, the three studs look at him simultaneously. "Yeah?" Jungkook murmurs, bringing the cup of liquor Taehyung poured him up to his lips. "You won't believe who I just bumped into-"

"Before that, did you tell the bouncer to not let that group of the Italian mafia in." Jungkook cuts him off after downing his drink. "Yeah it's all sorted, you won't be seeing them ever again," Jimin smirks crossing his arms, as he peers down at Jungkook. "Good." He mutters, motioning for him to continue with what he was going to say before he got interrupted.

"Listen I bumped into Kim Seokjin." Jungkook's eyes widen slightly. "I haven't heard that name in a while," Jungkook mutters smirking at Jimin. "Yeah, he's here with his girlfriend and her friend can they enter the VIP booth?" Jimin asks Jungkook smiling, Jungkook stares at him blankly before nodding his head. "Yeah, it is cool. I don't see why not."

"Are the chicks he's with hot?" Taehyung exclaims before Jimin could exit the booth. Jimin halts in his tracks before turning his head to the side to face him with a smirk.

"Smoking."

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You take some time to process Jin's words. The night you finally had to relax suddenly had done a complete 180. You can tell that Jin is both physically and mentally freaking out. Even though he is usually the really calm one which makes you and your best friend especially nervous. Jin runs his fingers through his hair as he takes in a few deep breaths.

"Okay but w-what do you mean by ‘kill' us?" Your best friend says as she stares at Jin in complete disbelief, her eyes slimming slightly. Your heart starts hammering in the chest through the anticipation and anxiety of finding out what Seokjin had to say.  

"Kill as in peu peu! Stab stab! Bye bye! THAT KIND OF KILL!" Jin says mockingly as he waves his arms up and down in exaggeration. You and your best friend roll your eyes at his behaviour before she slaps him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Jin can you be serious! Do you have some beef with this guy that we don’t know about?" You say glaring up at him while pacing on your hands on your hips. "Yeah like seriously, we need you to explain this. You can’t just say that shit and leave us hanging. Who exactly is Jungkook and why would he want to kill us?" Your best friend says leaning in closer towards Jin, you mimic her actions as Jin motions you both to come to close. Jin looks around him to make sure no one is listening before leaning back down closer to the both of you.

"Think about it this way, were in enemy territory right now. Jungkook owns this club, he has people working for him everywhere in this club. We are the seals in shark territory. Jungkook isn't just some lousy ass back alley drug dealer, his father is this fucking crazy, merciless serial killer and he is exceptionally rich and powerful! The Jeon family has ruined lives, not just kill people and get away with it but ruin lives. If he finds out were detectives there's no doubt in my mind that he'll kill us right on the spot. He doesn't care, he's fucking crazy. In college one guy copied a sentence from his essay and we literally never saw him again. He is pure evil and bad news. We don't fuck with someone like him. I've literally only have spoken to him a few times in my life and that was enough to give me nightmares."

You both feel shivers run down your spines as the frightening new information swims through your mind almost making you dizzy. "We can't enjoy ourselves tonight if we're constantly on edge. Maybe we should just get out of here and fast." Your best friend says grabbing onto both Jin and your hand. "Sorry I took a while! I'm glad you guys are still here." Jimin exclaims from behind the three of you making you all jump in fear and shock. "Going somewhere?" He says smirking up at the three of you. You hold your breath as Jin forces a laugh to break the awkward tension. "No! No way! Not at all!" Jin exclaims, patting Jimin on the arm gently. Jimin stares up at Jin in suspicion. His sudden change of persona has you all on edge.

"Good! Now, what liquor do you guys drink I'll have the bartender bring it over to our booth." Jimin suddenly exclaims, his face lighting up with a bright smile. His quick change of character leaves you all baffled as he scans over the expensive liquor lined up at the bar. “Well? What do you guys wanna sip?” Jimin chuckles, smiling kindly. You mentally panic knowing absolutely nothing about normal liquor than again expensive liquor! The two of you are speechless as Jin remains cool as a cucumber smiling back at Jimin. You start internally panicking because of the silence coming from the three of you before your best friend decides to nudge Jin hard in the ribs. Jin groans before covering up his pain by leaning against the counter. "We'll just drink whatever your having were not too picky with  alcohol." He smiles at Jimin forcefully, before side-eyeing his girlfriend.

"Oh Okay, that's absolutely fine. We got some of the finest liquor over at the VIP section anyway. Please follow me." Jimin says maintaining eye contact with Jin and his girlfriend before subtly winking at you. You flush at his obvious flirtatious advances before sluggishly following him from behind Jin and Your best friend. The three of you are tense because of the terrifying new information that was given to you by Jin. You felt nauseous as the walk to the VIP booth seemed to be taking forever. You and best friend glance at each other with a tight smile. Everything will be okay we just have to make sure Jungkook doesn't find out what our field of work is. You mentally remind yourself as you try to calm down your concerns.

As the three of you get closer to the VIP section you start to smell marijuana. The smell is strong as it mixes with the expensive colognes being worn by the four people inside. Jimin ushers the three of you inside the booth when you all just stop simultaneously at the entrance. Jin is first to make eye contact with Taehyung and Hoseok as your best friend makes eyes with Yoongi. Your heart pounds against your rib cage as the boy with dark hair and eyes holds your gaze.

Your eyes widen in astonishment, your mouth falling slight agape as you take in the appearance of the person you assume is the infamous Jeon Jungkook. Your hands begin to shake as your cheeks are flushing a deep shade of red at the perfection in front of you. Jungkook eyes cut deep into your soul, your palms begin to sweat. He was beautiful. He had the rich person vibe about him, along with something that couldn't really put your finger on. His eyes wander from your face to the rest of your body and you instantly feel exposed to his greedy eyes. He watches you closely and precisely. As if he was absorbing all of your information out of you. He was intimidating and conceited from the way he presented himself as he chews onto his bottom lip. Tugging the flesh erotically as he maintains eye contact with you. How could someone this breathtakingly beautiful be so bad?

Playing with the expensive rings on his fingers, he stares at you with a new kind of glint in onyx dark his eyes. "Seokjin…I am so glad we could meet again," Jungkook says standing up slowly from the expensive leather couch he was sitting on. You peer up at him as he stands, his intense gaze never leaving your own. Jin clears his throat as he stares back and forth between you and Jungkook before walking forward timidly to shake hands with Jungkook. "Nice to see you again Jungkook. Looks like you're doing well Man. This club is amazing."

"You flatter me," Jungkook says smirking at you while he’s shaking hands with Jin. You stare back at him nervously tugging onto the flesh of your bottom lip. Jin once again notices Jungkook’s set gaze on you and peers between the both of you with searching eyes. “How long has this club been open? I’ve heard you had it renovated a few times.” Jin says trying to capture Jungkook’s attention to give you some space to breathe. You can tell that Jin is tense by the way he's tightening his jaw. As soon as Jungkook seems distracted you exhale abruptly finally releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You observe Jungkook’s whole luxurious attire while he converses politely with Jin. “Yes – Actually this place has been renovated about…” His voice drifts away as you scan the black blazer that was imbraided with an expensive designer label, the white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top revealing his collar bones and white gold neck, a designer belt holding up his black tight fitted suit pants and expensive black leather shoes. He was definitely rich and by the way, he acted, you knew he was someone that always gets what he wants.

“(Y/N)?”

The voice whispering in your ear breaks you out of your trance and you turn your head to the side to be greeted with your best friends worried expression. “Are you okay? You’re practically drooling.” She says it harshly as if it was obvious and your cheeks quickly set ablaze in complete embarrassment. “Was I that obvious?” You whisper back in panic as she nods her head you groan quietly.

"You weren't lying about bringing up some hotties weren’t you Jimin?" Taehyung murmurs as he winks at both you and your best friend. Your best friend quickly holds hands with Jin in response, the action coming to her naturally as Jin tightens his hold on her hand. You dismiss his comment, too invested in Jungkook and the way his eyes crinkle on the side when he smiles and the cute little mole under his lip. He was like something out of a movie. You never ever expected the bloodcurdling and merciless Jeon Jungkook to look like this.

"Talking to yourself now Taehyung? I knew you were fucked but not that fucked" Yoongi sneers as Taehyung glare at him in response. "Shut the fuck up Yoongi." Taehyung spat in annoyance. "Oi the DJ is playing that whack shit. Tell him to change the song." Hoseok mumbles to Jimin as he blows out smoke from his mouth, ignoring you, Seokjin and your best friend altogether. "No, you tell him! I told him last time - " Jimin retorts defensively before being cut off by Jungkook.

"-care to Introduce me to your friends Seokjin," Jungkook says as his sharp dark eyes fall on to you. You swallow the built up saliva salivating in your mouth as he smoothly unbuttons a button on his blazer before shrugging off it off completely. He has you captivated, his smile tugging on the side cockily as he is rolling up his sleeves and you almost choke on your drool at the sight of his muscle and tattoos hiding from underneath his tight fitted white collared dress shirt. "Right. Well, this beautiful girl right here is my girlfriend (B/F/N) and this is our good friend and work colleague (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)?" Jungkook says smirking, your eyes widened as he says your name smoothly, the rush of emotions sending you on an emotional high as he motions you to come to the vacant spot next to him. He eyes leave you momentarily to nod at your best friend in acknowledgement before he's gazing back at you cuttingly. "What would you like to drink?" He asks with barely any emotion visible on his handsome face. "Ah- we're not picky, that champagne will do," Jin says to Jungkook swiftly as he patted you gently on the shoulder. "Excellent," Jungkook says impassively before gesturing you to come closer to him. “Come.” He orders making you weak in the knees. You gulp nervously before walking over to the spot next to him. While you were debating what to do in your head, you decide to place yourself next to him on a whim. “(Y/n)-“ Jin and your best friend mutter strictly as they stare at you in complete disbelief as you make yourself comfortable next to him. You keep your gaze locked on Jungkook as he outstretches his hand towards you. You place your hand into his and he immediately notices you trembling. He a ghostly smirk appears on his face slyly as he notices the effect he had on you.

“What would you like to drink lovely (Y/n)?” Jungkook asks with the slight smirk stretching even wider on his lips as he releases your hand slowly while he motions you to take a seat next to him. "Surprise me." You say while forcing yourself to remain calm even though you were completely freaking out on the inside. He observes you closely which makes you anxious. He knows all the emotions you were discreetly trying to suppress.

Jungkook continues to stare at you attentively before grinning at your response. Jimin and Yoongi watch you in amusement as Taehyung chuckles at your curt reply. "I'd be careful if I was you.” Hoseok chuckles nonchalantly finally acknowledging you. “Jungkook has a tendency of taking things to the next level. Don't challenge him." Yoongi murmurs resting his chin against the palm of his hand with a wide grin plastered on his face as he watches Jungkook with curious eyes instantly recognising his friend's interest in you. "I'll get you only the finest," Jungkook says eyes detecting your nervous behaviour. You watch him cautiously and he looks at you with such desire held in his gaze that you are refraining yourself from running away at the discomposure and the lust that was salivating in your mouth for him. It was torture trying not to drool and ogle at the bachelor when he was just so delicious to look at in the first place.

"So, what do you do for a living now Jin?" Taehyung asks out of blue, his interest leaving you and Jungkook to instead interrogate Jin. You jump at the question subtly. Jin and Your best friend look at each other in almost recognisable panic as the question you all feared being asked came up sooner than you all anticipated. You clear your throat, feeling yourself get frightened at the question being asked so early into the introductions that you are fervently trying to come up with a lie. "We work for a writing company. We're publishers. We had so much paperwork today we thought we could use a break and grab a couple of drinks." Jin intervenes in a hurry with something you thought was not believable but ended up not being picked up by Jungkook or his friends. You were all wearing office clothing which made sense. Jimin hands you a cup of champagne with a cherry in the bottom of it. You thank him quietly before taking slow slips of the bubbly alcoholic beverage. Jimin smiles at you fondly before proceeding to pore everyone else a drink.

"Kim Seokjin, son of one of the most successful and richest surgeons in the world is working at a publishing company," Taehyung exclaims questionably raising an eyebrow at Jin. Jin clears his throat before nodding. "Yeah…I chose to do something different from my father." He says forcing a smile at Taehyung. Yoongi and Hoseok nod their head in a supportive manner at Jin’s response. “I thought you were going to become a doctor like the rest of your family. It’s so you to do something completely different though. Good luck with everything man.” Taehyung says raising his glass to Jin as he slouches on the couch he was sitting on. “Yeah, thanks Tae. Good luck with acting.” Jin beams at him, mimicking his actions of raising his glass in praise.

Jungkook watches you diligently as you watch the pair converse stiffly. “You have all worked hard. It’s time for you all to relax and enjoy yourselves.” Jungkook says as he accepts the champagne handed to him by Jimin with a slight nod of acknowledgement. Every movement he made screamed class and you were living for all of it. “That doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.” Yoongi jokes picking up his own glass placed in front of him. "Cheers," Taehyung exclaims as you all clank your glasses together. “To another night of endless drinking and bad decisions!” Hoseok suddenly adds, lightening the mood. You all glance at one another smiling and laughing before bringing your glasses to your lips, your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and you almost choke on your drink at the quick subtle wink sent your way.

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It was an amateurish mistake getting drunk in front of famous and from what you heard ruthless millionaires or billionaires, you didn’t know nor did you really care. You just knew they were famous and educated bachelors from rich families that really liked to spend their money and spent a lot of their time doing stupid and illegal shit. From what started off as a tense and almost death binding situation became a rather enjoyable and interesting environment as Jungkook poured you drink after drink. Jin and his girlfriend ended up getting lost into a card game against Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin. While you became undeniably drunk off the expensive champagne Jungkook was pouring you and off of Jungkook himself. It wasn't just the drinks that you got you tipsy it was the way he smiles, touched and kissed you.

Only a few people can kiss a dangerous mafia member and live to tell the tale. Jungkook’s touches set your skin ablaze as he runs his tongue around your parted lips. You wanted to have him to yourself at that very moment and no one could convince you otherwise. Your grip on his blazer tightens as sees how much you want him with his onyx eyes. He cockily presses you impossibly closer against him. You release a shaky sigh at the feeling of his masculine physique that he was hiding under his clothes. You glance down at his chest, spotting tattoos hidden underneath his white faintly transparent dress shirt. There was no doubt in Jungkook's mind that you were his next motivation. He had to claim you tonight.  He had to be the one to leave marks on your gorgeous skin and possibly if he felt like the part killing you.

It was a blur…how Jungkook ended up tongue deep into your mouth, ring covered cool fingers caressing your exposed thigh, as he pulls you impossibly close to his body causing goose bumps to appear on your skin and a shudder run down your spine. You drown in his scent and touch. It was electrifying. You were drowning in the scent of expensive cologne and the silky feeling of his lavish fabric. He pulls you flush against him, your hands running through his silky locks, he detaches himself from your lips temporarily to run sloppy kisses along the side of jaw and neck. A silent moan escapes past your lips and it was game over. Jungkook bites down onto your earlobe, making you automatically grip onto his shoulder tightly in response. You are breathing heavily against him as he swirls his sinful tongue around the side of your neck and the skin just behind your ear. "J-Jungkook." You weren't this type of person. The type to kiss a stranger you had just met in a club. The type to get so drunk you couldn't think or walk straight. The type to want to someone to claim you right in the middle of people filled VIP room. Jungkook was exhilarating in everything that he did to your body. The fear of him being a dangerous gang member leaving your thoughts the moment he touched you and laid eyes on you.

“Have you ever seen a matte black Lamborghini before baby?” He whispers in your ear and you shake your head ‘No.’ While biting onto your bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your erotic moans from escaping. “Do you wanna fuck in one?" Your eyes widened in shock, as he moves his hand to cup your heat. You glance at the people in the room with you completely stunned and horrified by what he was doing to you in a room full of people. The others are completely immersed in their card game that they have completely dismissed both you and Jungkook’s presence. You stiffen up as Jungkook, slides your underwear to the side without anyone noticing. Panting heavily against him, you grasp in hand in a pathetic attempt to still him which becomes futile after working magic against your sensitive nub. "Wait there's people-ah!" You tremble against him as he works you past the breaking point. "Do you wanna fuck in one or not babe? Just so you know I won’t be taking no for an answer." Jungkook growls as he sucks onto the side of your neck. "I might just have to pick you up and take you against your will." He groans as he rubs against you at a harder and faster pace than he was working you before. "W-Why bother asking me t-then?” You pant and moan as Jungkook teasingly kisses you on the side of your mouth, making you release another wanton moan. "What was that sweetheart? I couldn't hear past your sexy moans?" He teasingly whispers against your neck, making a shiver run down your spine. He smirks before biting your neck. “J-Just,” His teeth gently tugging on the skin with his teeth. "Show me your fucking car."

“Right this way, Princess.”

Jungkook wraps his large hand around your frail trembling one. “I’m not afraid anymore. I want this. I want him.” You chant in your head as Jungkook leans in for another passionate kiss against your now swollen lips. You kiss him back eagerly and without a second thought and Jungkook pulls you swiftly back up to your feet. You both continue to kiss and Jungkook begins to walk you backwards until your back makes contact with a wall in the booth. The cool wall against your warm skin makes you shiver and Jungkook admires your trembling with penetrating dark hooded eyes. You feel fire burn in your stomach as his large greedy hands grope your ass. “You…are… so fucking… addicting.” He harshly whispers between kisses and you smile against his lips. Feeling more self-confident than before. It must be the expensive liquor he was compelling you to consume. “You are not so bad yourself.” You whisper, breaking the intoxicating kiss to look him square in the eyes. Jungkook feels his heart pound against his chest as you adorably smile up at him.

“You’re fascinating you know that?” He unconsciously smiles back down at you with genuine appreciation. He hasn’t felt so content in having someone against him the way you are with him now. He feels adoration for you swell up in his cold heart, filling it with a new sense of warmth he has never felt before. Your heart hammers in your chest as you wrap your arms around his neck.  “No. not really but there is one thing I know for sure right now and it’s that I want you so…so fucking bad.” You mutter quietly before pressing your lips firmly against his lips once again. You were never this bold. Never. It must have been the alcohol talking and dangerously revealing your hidden desires. Jungkook is the one this time to form a satisfied smile against your lips as his hands move up from your butt to grip your hips tightly instead. Your anxiety wasn’t there to ruin your night for the first time in a long time and you feel yourself craving him more and more.

Jimin watches the two of you silently from the corner of his eyes with a slight twinge of jealousy. Taehyung, Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok and your best friend are too caught up in their card game to notice what was escalating between you and Jungkook. Jimin, however, was watching the entire thing. Jimin silently averts his gaze back to the game but from the corner of his eye again, he sees Jungkook eagerly pulling you out of the room. “Come on it’s your turn chim chim! Stop getting distracted!” Taehyung exclaims clearly intoxicated and without saying anything Jimin focuses back to his game. “You okay? You look kind of out of it.” Yoongi whispers leaning towards Jimin. "Couldn't be better," Jimin assures him as he glances down at the cards sprawled out in his hands. “H-Hey w-where is…where’s…” Jin murmurs without anyone really noticing or paying attention.

“Where’s (Y/n)?”

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With every step, you both take, you felt fire ignite in your belly. The hungry and jealous stares being directed your way which would normally make you feel self-conscious and intimidated made you feel empowered instead. Bodies grind on you as you and Jungkook try to squeeze out of the busy and jam-packed club. You ignore the endless murmurs and glares sent your way and Jungkook turns back to glance at you. When your eyes meet, your heart accelerates at the adrenaline of emotions swerving through your veins. His hands tighten and you feel oddly safe at that very moment. The anticipation of what was going to happen once you both leave Full Moon made you nervous. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you before tugging his lip into a breathtakingly beautiful smile. You could care less about the jealous and nosy people around you. All you wanted was to be with Jungkook. Jungkook smirks down at you sexily before lowering his head to whisper into your ear.

“I can’t wait to leave this place and get my fucking hands on you. You have no idea how good I’m going to please you tonight baby girl.”

You bite back another lewd moaning from escaping past your swollen lips as you grip onto Jungkook’s shoulder roughly. “Jungkook please don’t stop!”  You cry out in ecstasy as he slides his rough fingers in and out of your heat. You are both pressed up against his Lambo too preoccupied with pleasing each other to actually get into the vehicle. "You like that?" Jungkook asks smirking, as he peppers sensual kisses against the side of your neck and collarbones as he curls his fingers inside you to hit your g-stop. You moan loudly in response, feeling tears form at the corner of your eyes from the pleasure he was giving you. “You like that?” He asks again a suggestive smirk form on his lips as he moves his head back to observe your pleasured expression from a better angle. You glance down at him with an expression of complete ecstasy written all over your face. He grins in satisfaction knowing he was the cause of your pleasure. Another loud moan escapes you before you finally realise you were both in a very public location. Your eyes widen as you glance around the parking lot, praying and hoping that no one sees the nasty shit that the both of you were doing in public. “J-Jungkook let’s just get into the car!” You exclaim curling your fingers in his hair as he sucks more marks on the side of your neck. “But it’s so nice out tonight. You see how pretty that full moon is babe?” He teasingly whispers onto your skin, making you shudder as warm breath cascades over your sensitive skin just under your ear. He places his hot tongue flat against your neck licking another stripe up your neck, loving the way your pulse throbbed speedily beneath his tongue. You shut your eyes as you felt your heart rate increase from what he was doing to you and the fear of being caught.

"Jungkook p-people c-can see…us. L-Let's just go to your place!" You mutter between moans as he pumps his fingers a tiny bit harder and faster. “Hm, but I asked you a question babe?” He begins to unbutton the top of your collared white shirt with one hand as you shake against him from the pleasure he was making you feel. You hear a group of people laughing as they walk into the parking lot. Your eyes widen in fear as you tighten your hold on him. If they turn around they could easily see you and Jungkook. Jungkook dismisses them completely and continues his torture to your heat. “J-Jungkook there’s people baby there’s people-AH!” You cry out as his thumb presses onto your clit with the right amount of pressure and he begins to do circular motions making your body jolt with added pleasure.  “Don't pay attention to anything else but me baby." He orders you while removing his hands off your shirt buttons temporarily to grip your chin between his fingers tightly forcing you to look at him. Just by pure luck, the bass dropped inside the club, successfully muffling your moans from being heard by the group.  You scream in bliss as he begins to pump his fingers harder in and out of you. “You didn't answer me yet, baby, do you like what I'm doing to you or not?” He asks you seductively before sucking hickeys on the top of breast peeking out from your bra, as his fingers work to unbutton the rest of your shirt with his free hand that was previously holding your chin.

“Yes! I like it so fucking much.” You exclaim, threading your fingers through his sleek dark brown hair once again. Jungkook hums in appreciation to your response, before tugging your shirt out of your pencil skirt. You release his hair temporarily, as he pulls fingers out of your heat and you sigh in displeasure when you clench around nothing. Jungkook detaches himself from you to throw your shirt into the front seat of his vehicle. It took only a more few seconds to have Jungkook, sliding two fingers back into your heat eagerly. The people leave without noticing the both of you and you moan even louder as he begins to pump his fingers in and out at a rapidly fast pace. “AH!! DON’T STOP! PLEASE DON’T STOP!” You cry out as you grip on his shoulder tightly. “You should see how fucking filthy you look right now. You look so fucking hot baby.” He murmurs sexily, before adding a third finger and increasing his pace. “I’m so close!” You shout in pleasure. “Yeah? Cum for me then babe.” He urges as he continues to suck hickeys on top of your chest and breasts. You cry out in pleasure, as you tremble against him uncontrollably. Your release hitting you harder than it ever has before. You pant against him as your eyes roll back and he looks at down at you with such passion that you felt fire swimming through your veins. You come around his fingers as he works out of your first orgasm.  He smiles against your skin, before peppering one final kiss on your neck. Your mind is in a daze as he pulls his soaked fingers out of you slowly before reaching for the car handle. You hear a click before the butterfly car door of the luxury matte back Lamborghini swings upwards.  

“Get in.”

  _͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽

So far up to this point of the night and you were getting to know Jungkook. Your first impression of him made you think that he wasn’t so bad. That was until he drove his Lambo that is. You grip onto the car handles for your dear life as he speeds through red lights, making the matte black Lamborghini fly through the city like crazy. The Lambo lit a profound purple colour on the inside, making his already gorgeous side profile look even more dashing alongside the illuminated lights. You hold your shirt to your chest with your free hand to cover yourself. Your eyes are blown wide as your breathlessly gasping for air in terror. “J-Jungkook… d-don’t you think you’re going a bit um fast?” You timidly question him as you keep your eyes glued to the road. Jungkook smirks watching you from his peripheral vision as he holds the leather steering wheel with one hand only. "Don't tell me that your scared baby girl? I thought you were fiercer than that." The engine shrieks as he presses onto the accelerator even harder, practically slamming his entire right foot against the pedal. Your breath hitches in your throat from shock as your back hit the seats from the sudden escalation of speed and he chuckles quietly to himself at your cute response. The wind from the cool night blows your hair back and you shiver from both fright and excitement as he flashes down on the high way. “No…Of course not.” You meekly reply as your grip on the side handle tightens. He smirks at you before changing lanes back and forth like he’s in a game of GTA to beat the traffic. He drives with well-defined skill and without any sense of restraint.

"Hm. You make such an exquisite face when you're scared (Y/n). It's truly intriguing " He says turning his head to face you briefly. You feel your heart skip a beat when your eyes meet his confident and assured ones. "I trust you.” You say beaming up at him and Jungkook is almost taken aback by your genuine response. “I’m the last person you should trust sweetheart.” Your smile leaves him so flustered that he resorts to rolling down his window to get some of the fresh late night air to cool down his flushed cheeks. “Maybe so, but I still want to trust you anyway.” You say gingerly as you take in his gorgeous features, momentarily dismissing the rapid speed his vehicle was going. “You honestly say the most absurd shit.” The adrenaline kicking makes you release the handle and enjoy the fast ride. “I don’t really mind it.”  Jungkook smiles as he continues to speed through the city, the ride now becoming enjoyable as you laugh at the overwhelming feelings of attraction overshadowing your fear.

Jungkook looked absolutely stunning, as the wind blows through his chestnut silky parted hair, displaying his forehead. His face is displaying self-assurance and contentment as he drives his luxury car haphazardly. You couldn’t help but watch him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was so entertaining and assertive that you felt kind of jealous of him. He remained confident in himself. He had everything in his personality that you were lacking.  You didn't know if the self-love and confidence he displayed were his true feelings or if he was faking it all. He was just so good at everything he did. That he made you instantly fall head over heels for him. Jungkook senses your gaze and looks at you smiling from ear to ear. Your eyes widen slightly before you are plastering on a fake smile that is futile and does little to nothing to hide your deepest feelings of self-hatred. Jungkook’s smile almost instantly vanishes at your lifeless gaze. He sees through your disguise and places the hand that was resting on his thigh onto the top of your head. Your eyes widen in shock at the comforting pat to your head. “If you’re gonna be lost in thought, can it at least be of me fucking your fucking brains out tonight when we get back to my place.”

You feel heat rush to your core at his response. He smirks as you flush under his heated gaze. "How much longer?" You ask turning your head to look out of the window in embarrassment. "Not very long at all baby. Not very long.” He says making an exit out of the highway into a path that seemed to be heading to the middle of nowhere. "Jungkook?" You turn to face him in slight fear. Could he be kidnapping you? Was he going to kill you and hide your dead body in the middle of nowhere? Countless merciless thoughts consume your attention, making Jungkook chuckle at your moment of panic. "Don't panic just yet baby girl," Jungkook smirks at you before motioning for you to look in front of you. "We're here." Your eyes widen in shock at the enormous mansion in front of you. "Welcome to the Jeon residence (L/N) (Y/N)," Jungkook says coolly as you star struck over the most gorgeous house you ever laid eyes upon. "T-This is your place?" You frantically ask Jungkook, as he reaches out of his car window to press a button. "Yeah well, it's one of them," Jungkook answers you with a sly wink. Your mouth falls agape at his response.

How many properties like this does he own? Can you make this much money selling drugs?

“This is the Jeon residence. Who do we have the pleasure of conversing with?” A voice speaks from the intercom. Your attention still being on the house made you jump a little at the sudden voice coming out of nowhere from the intercom.

“It’s me. Open the gate.” Jungkook says strictly as he straightens up in his seat. "Welcome back Master. Right away." The voice says before the gold-plated gate opens quickly. You watch the gate make a path and Jungkook bites back smile at the flabbergasted expression on your face. As soon as Jungkook speeds to the front of the mansion, there’s a chauffeur waiting for him at the front who opens the door for elegantly, before catching Jungkook’s car keys frantically after Jungkook threw them at him carelessly not even bothering to look where they land. "Park it next to the Bentley," Jungkook says casually before the chauffeur bows in response. "This house is way too big! T-This is actually a fucking mansion! Wait- you live here alone?” You question him hurriedly in amazement while taking the whole house in of its glory. Jungkook chuckles, before intertwining your hands together. “I actually live here with my Family.” The sudden skin to skin contact leaves you flushing in embarrassment and you are quick to tighten your hold onto his hand, fingers threaded together. You both maintain eye contact while his lips tug up on the side into a strikingly handsome smirk. “I wouldn’t want you running away or getting lost.” He says placing an affectionate kiss to the back of your palm. "I wouldn’t even dream of running away.” You chuckle feeling butterflies form in your stomach at the fondness and attention he was giving you. You feel yourself throb for him as the heat of your first intense orgasm lingers, his eyes darken faintly as he tightens his grip on your hand.

“Oh, after you figure out what I’m going to do to you, you might.” He says casually before flashing you a dazzling smile with a wink.  You bite onto your bottom lip in anticipation as he opens the front door. “After you.” He says assertively, gesturing you politely to take a step inside the mansion. The massive front doors creak open and you nod timidly before taking a vigilant step through the front door and what it revealed inside left you even more dumbfounded than you were before. “Welcome back Master!” a room full of servants greet the two of while bowing in perfect sync and order. They all looked extremely timid and stiff as they present themselves with cautiousness and well-mannered demeanour in front of Jungkook. Jungkook doesn’t even glance or acknowledge the attentive staff before waving them away. "Leave us be," Jungkook says firmly making them all nod their heads quickly and scatter off in all kinds of different directions after bowing again elegantly, trying their hardest to get away from Jungkook’s presence as fast as physically possible.

“Wow…So all these people serve you?” You ask him, as he leads up the long flight of marble stairs. "Yes, baby girl. They all work for me and my family.” He shrugs indifferently, making you raise an eyebrow in response. “That’s crazy. I can’t imagine having that much people serving me.”

"Oh, I'll serve you so good baby girl. So good, that you won’t be needing anybody else.”  He says with a husky voice so enticingly erotic, you feel every fibre in your body jump in expectation. He detaches himself from you before roughly pushing you inside a massive room which must have belonged to him once you both reach the top of the stairs. You scream with a start at the sudden rough push to your body. Your fingers detach from his instantly as you stagger into his large room. Jungkook watches you stumble into the room making him sneer maliciously in response. Trying your best to keep your balance in your heels. Immediately you got the bad boy vibe from how he carried himself and his persona. You quickly glance around the luxurious room and you almost gasp at the expensive interior and spacious size. The room practically screamed Jungkook from its dark colour coordination to his rich feeling silk sheets. It had a walk-in closet, a balcony, a bathroom, game machinery that look like they belong in an arcade, a gym and many more completely extra shit. You spot large monitors on the side of his room with gaming headsets. “This is your room? It’s a separate house in itself." You mutter as you turn your body to face Jungkook. He loosens his collared shirt as he bites his bottom lip while walking through his doorway. “Yeah. It’s pretty impressive.” He checks you out from head to toe and is quick to be back by your side. You instantly notice his change in persona, the polite and attentive Jungkook now nowhere to be seen. He holds your chin turning you to face him and pulls you into another breathtaking kiss that leaves you feeling weak in the knees. His hold on your body is strong and secure as he holds you upright.

The shirt that was flimsily placed back on you gets instantly ripped off, as his rough fingers make contact with the bottom of it. You swore you heard a rip coming from the material, but you couldn’t care less at that very moment. Jungkook’s desirous hands grope and glide across every curve of your body. His kisses were intoxicatingly breath-taking and experienced. “Why am I not getting sick of kissing you?” He teasingly whispers as he walks you back, pressing you against his large pool table. “I wonder.” You murmur in response sending him a playful smile before you both pull apart briefly and you practically rip off his expensive vest and dress shirt. He smirks at your enthusiasm and lets you undress him keenly. Your eyes widen in shock at the rock hard abs and honey coloured skin he was hiding underneath, with even more sexy tattoos sprawled across his sides and chest. Your unbelievably needy at this point and Jungkook smirks down at you so erotically that your breath hitches in your chest at his attractiveness. This guy was oozing with so much sex appeal that it was insane. “Please just take me.” You murmur in desperation and Jungkook chuckles before unbuckling his belt. "Oh, I will." He murmurs as tenses his body to accentuate his lean muscles.

“Like what you see baby?” He growls, pushing your body even harder against the cold hardwood of his table, as he drowns in your scent and soft flesh overwhelming his senses completely. You nod your head sternly, your eyes staying glued to his rock hard abs and honey skin. “Yeah? Cause I know I do. Damn.” He says placing wet kisses down your neck retracing his previous steps and admiring his marks that he left on your skin at the carpark. Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take and Jungkook admires that. You gulp in anticipation as his rough fingers glide over your bra strap, slowly moving the fabric down and he continues his sensual kisses onto the newly exposed skin. Your fingers run through his hair as you take in every single one of Jungkook’s actions, trying to lock them deep into your memory. Jungkook sucks another hickey before practically ripping your bra off of you.

You hear a soft “fuck” leaving his lips as he takes in your breasts, before latching onto your left nipple. You moan out loud in both pain and pleasure while your hands grab at his tattooed arms. As he sucks and tugs onto your delicate flesh and nipple his hands grasp both your breasts squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure. Making your back arch off the table. He gives the right nipple the same attention as the left before one of his hands slides down your body teasingly. “You are so good at this!” You screech as he makes contact with your swollen clit. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He replies teasingly, keeping eye contact with you as he slides pencil skirts zipper down painstakingly slow. “Please hurry up Jungkook.” You groan at his deliberate slow pace which makes him smile friskily down at you in response. Usually, this sort of response from a woman sent him haywire. He did not like people rushing him or commanding him in any shape or form but Jungkook didn’t really seem to mind it coming from you.

“I just want to take my time undressing you while admiring your beauty.” Your whole body flushes at his sly comment and you mentally curse him for always knowing what to say to get you riled up. Once it hits the floor, you push Jungkook off of you with as much force as you could muster, knowing he was much stronger than you. He barely moves back an inch at the force of your push but for your sake moves back anyway watching you with slight confusion perceptible in his dark onyx eyes. You smirk up at him coyly before falling down onto your knees in front of him. His confusion is quickly wiped away by an assertive smile and he threads his rough fingers through your hair instantly when he realises what you were up to. You can see him through his dress pants and he watches you in a mixture of both complete disbelief and amusement. You look up at him as if you were asking for permission and he nods his head impatiently in response, his fingers threading into your hair harsher and you smile at the suggestive tug to your locks, hands reaching to pull down his zipper. His pants fall to the ground quickly without anything there to hold the trousers on his amazing body.

You bite back a gasp at how big and hard he looked through his underwear. The outline of his length protruding and thick as well as how defined and muscular his thighs were. “Shit…” You mutter before feeling him over his underwear. “I think I’m the one with the better view here between the two of us.” Jungkook sheepishly murmurs, his eyes hooded as he peers down at you. Admiring you just in your underwear with your breast bare. “We’ll see about that.” You mutter looking up at him through your lashes, before tugging his underwear down and you move your head back quickly to avoid being hit in the face by his impressively large and thick cock. You hum in pleasure at the size and he ushers you with a suggestive smile to take him in your mouth.

“Come on baby girl…give it a taste.” Jungkook guides you while threading his fingers through your locks once again, completely messing up your hair but keeping your hair from falling onto your gorgeous face. “Gladly.” You whisper, before placing a kitten lick to his leaking tip. It had been so long since you got laid that you felt the excitement as you lick a slow long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip. "F-Fuck." Jungkook moans, tightening his grip on your hair. "Take your panties off baby girl and pleasure yourself while you suck my cock.” You immediately obey sliding off your panties, before licking your fingers and circling your clit while simultaneously sucking his large cock. “Just like that baby…” Jungkook growls as you bob your head faster while hallowing your cheeks to suck even harder. “Take me into your mouth. Just like that.” You moan with a cock filled mouth and Jungkook forces you harder onto his shaft, making his tip brush against the back of your throat.

You groan at the force but try your best to not gag around his dick as he practically begins to face fuck your mouth. Your mascara and eyeliner begin to smudge at the corner of your eyes as the tears begin to pour down your face. Leaving a trail of streak marks as you keep one hand against his pelvis to steady yourself as your other hand stills against your clit, too focused on pleasing him instead and not gagging. “Keep touching yourself baby girl.” He orders as he slows down his pace, keeping his cock buried into your mouth. You hum in response as you begin to move your fingers hastily on your clit. Bringing yourself close to your second release of the night. Jungkook sees you panting and twitching and is quick to wrap his hand roughly around you locks before tugging you hard by the hair to pull you off his dick. You cry out in pain and he smirks down at you in response. Completely disregarding your disappointed look on your face from being stripped away from another orgasm. His eyes are following the trickle of saliva running down your chin and dripping onto your bare hickey covered breasts.

“I told you to pleasure yourself but I never said to make yourself cum. I’ll be the one make to you cum. You got that?” He strictly pronounces without any hint of playfulness in his lust filled eyes and you nod quickly not wanting to test his patience’s and letting him pull you back up to your feet by your hair. “I’m going to fuck you all night long and you’re going to let me.” You nod enthusiastically and he releases your hair to instead bend slightly to throw you over his shoulder like a rag doll. You cry out in fear as your body dangles on his shoulder. He smacks your ass hard before walking over to his large bed. He throws you onto his mattress and watches your body bounce up and down. Your hands feel at his silky expensive sheets and he smirks down at you before pulling off his Rolex watch and tossing it off to the side somewhere. You maintain eye contact with and him as he walks over to the edge of the bed. His cock standing tall as he grasps onto your feet before pulling your body down to the edge of his bed and slipping off your black heels.

“Let me fucking taste you baby.” Your breath hitches in your throat as drops onto his knees. “You are fucking glistening so beautifully.” He teasingly states as he looks up at you holding your gaze. Your chests rise and fall in anticipation as he bends down to lick a stripe up your heat, his tongue brushing onto your clit. Your back arches off the bed and he smirks before continuing to eat you out like he was a starved animal. Moan after moan leaves you as you grab at his sheets, clutching them tightly. The pleasure causing tears to well up in your eyes once again, making your eye make-up smear even more. “Jungkook!!” You scream his name like a mantra and he lives for every second of it. “That’s it. Say my name.” You cry out in pleasure and he growls in response doubling his efforts before sliding two fingers back into your dripping entrance. He rushes you into your second orgasm of the night embarrassingly quickly and he watches you tremble and shudder against his now drenched sheets. You continue to twitch and exhale in pleasure as he works you out of your high.

“Look at the fucking mess you made.” He chuckles, his chin and lips covered in your juices and you flush at his comment. Your eyes snap open at his comment and you quickly lift yourself up against his mattress onto your elbows. You stare down at him and the mess you made mortified. “I-I’ve never d-done that before.” You shyly murmur and he chuckles bending down to lick up the rest of your release before kissing his way up your body sensually. “Don’t be embarrassed. That was so fucking hot. I am going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before baby. I’ll give you a taste of what it’s to be with me…but first taste how fucking amazing you taste on my tongue.” He pushes his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue and you let him kiss you like no tomorrow. The kiss continues to get heated and you let your tongues collide together again and again. “Jungkook please…please fuck me.” You practically beg once he pulls away slightly. Leaving only a short distance between the two of you. “Please Jungkook,” You look up at him with lust filled eyes and he growls in response.

“How badly do want it?” His curt questions leave you baffled and sexually frustrated. "So fucking bad…please, Jungkook, fuck me, baby, please-"

“Hm, I'm not really convinced." He hums, purposely brushing his rock hard cock against your dripping entrance. You clench around nothing and sigh in frustration. "I want you so fucking bad Jungkook, please I want you to fuck me all night with your big cock, I want you to fuck me hard and stretch me out, use me to get yourself off, I have never wanted to sleep with someone so bad, I want you to fuck my brains out as you promised me Jungkook please, please I want your cock inside me so bad baby-”

“You want me that badly? Well, I better give you what you want baby girl."

You almost gasp at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your dripping entrance. He watches you favourably and pushes just the tip of his length into you. You quickly clench onto him and moan out loud at the stretch. “F-Fuck you’re so big.” You cry out as he hastily pushes the rest of his thick and long cock in barely giving you time to adjust to his size. You feel yourself being stretched further than you have ever been stretched before. Your mouth falls open at the feeling and you both moan at the pleasant stretch. "And you're so fucking tight. What the fuck? When was the last time you’ve been fucked?” He questions you with a moan as he pulls his hip back before snapping them forward, essentially pounding his hard length back into you firmly and powerfully. It has honestly been a long time since the last time you have had sex and this was definitely giving you more pleasure than your fingers were. You release moan after moan as he continues to stick by his words and fuck your brains out.

He continues pulling his hips back and then thrusting back inside you hard with a satisfying husky groan. He has your back arching and your falling agape with every hard snap of his pelvis. You feel your body sucking him back up and deep inside, his length brushing against all the right places. He growls and grunts sexily as he continues to pound you into his mattress. “You take my cock so fucking well baby.” You reach your arms out to press against the headboard to give you some stability but your efforts become futile as he continues to pound into you faster and harder, hitting that one spot that drives you crazy every time. “Jungkook oh my god!” You moan breathlessly as shoves his whole length hard and deep inside you, stilling himself as you clench and unclench snugly around his length. Your whole body shaking at the pleasure you were feeling. “Jungkook…” You moan his name as you peer up at him with glistening tear-filled eyes. “Fuck baby.” He grunts while imprinting your face and exquisite pleasured expression into his mind as he starts to move his hips again. His large cock once again sliding against your walls wonderfully. Your wetness dripping out of your entrance soaking his sheets with every thrust.

“You look so fucking sexy right now.” He growls hovering over you, admiring the way your face contorts with pleasure with every snap of his pelvis. "Right t-there Jungkook! Fuck! Right there!" You chant as he grips your hips harder, pulling your body down to meet him halfway. The hard pounding to your g-spot leaves you seeing stars and you trembling again as your back arches off his bed and your sensitive nipples make contact with his solid hard chest. You knew you were going to be so sore after this and probably covered in bruises but you honestly didn’t care. He completely ruined you with his rough thrusts, bite marks and hickey covered skin. Not so secretly thought you were loving every second of it. He lets go of one of your hips to press his fingers against your swollen and abused clit.

"Y-You fuck me so well." You cry out as Jungkook continues to assault your g-spot. “Jungkook!” Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit and the sensation as you on cloud9 as he pounds into you faster. “J-Jungkook s-shit!” You scream in ecstasy as you tighten around his length feeling the familiar bubbling of your release approaching in your belly. He was stimulating you in every way possible. “I-I’m close! P-Please d-don’t stop!” You order him and he smirks down at you sexily. Sweat dripping down his forehead as he intertwines his fingers on your hip with your own. “I’m not planning on it.” You moan loudly, your high hitting you even harder than it has the first time he pushed you past your breaking point before. Jungkook removes his hand off your clit to wrap his fingers around your neck instead. Applying the right amount of pressure and slightly cutting off your airways. Your breath hitches in your throat and you never knew being choked was something that was going to turn you on as much as it did. “Look at you, you little filthy bitch. Taking my cock so fucking well.” He grunts choking you harder. You gasp and tighten around his length as your orgasm was quickly approaching. You silently scream in pleasure as you feel yourself being thrown over the edge once again. Your whole body shuddering at the overwhelming sensation. You release onto his sheets and lower stomach. “Fuck you did It again baby.” He grunts loving the way your face is contorting in pleasure. “So fucking hot.” He mutters as he watches you tremble and shake violently underneath him, tightening extremely tightly around his cock.

“F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Jungkook exclaims as he releases into you, painting your walls. His seeds filling you up. He continues to ram his cock into you, successfully milking himself of his cum. You groan at the overstimulation of him thrusting into you and hitting your abused g-spot. “Jungkook stop please” You whimpered and he shushes you quietly in response. You flinch and twitch as he begins to rub your clit hard and fast. You scream in both discomfort and overstimulation. “J-Jungkook baby I can’t cum again!” You exclaim, feeling the familiar feeling of an orgasm arising in your belly. “Come, baby, just one more. Cum one more time for me.” Your scream as your last orgasm hits you. It does not hit you as hard as the rest of your orgasm of the night but it is enough to leave you with goosebumps and feeling so unbelievably pleasured. You both breathlessly stay in the same position trying to steady your breathing while still being connected and sweaty from the aftermath of a passionate night of love-fucking and rough fucking. You have a gut feeling that he's staring at you and your pleasantly surprised when you snap your eyes open to be greeted by his blissful and content smiling face. He stares at you silently. Chest falling and rising as he takes his fingers off your neck, relishing on the way your skin flushed after the intense love-making you both shared. He observes your completely wrecked form in delight. Loving the way his fingers on neck left a red mark and he moves his hands down your body keeping them locked against your hips instead. You stare up at him bashfully as he continues to observe you. You felt completely vulnerable and bare in front Jungkook as he makes no effort to move from his position even with his now limp dick still buried deep inside you filled with his cum. You couldn’t imagine how messy he made you. You felt only slightly self-conscious as he continues to gawk at you.

“That was… probably the best… sex… I’ve ever had.” You state chuckling between heavy intakes of air as he snorts softly at the comment. "Well, I'm glad because it was…supposed to be your last.” The last part of his sentence gets trapped in his head and he does not physically have the ability to say the words out loud. "Because It was what?" You ask smiling up at him and he shakes his head calmly returning your smile. "Because it was mine too." He says before bending down to capture your lips into another passionate kiss. Jungkook kisses you aggressively with every ounce of strength he had left. You were like a drug giving him energy as he felt the desire to take you all over again. His right hand moves slowly under the pillow next to you. You were completely immersed in the kiss to realise what he was doing. Jungkook's warm hand makes contact with the cool knife located under the pillow. His hand grasped it as he waits for the usual urge to slice your throat open. The kiss is progressing getting sloppier and intimate as your tongues dance against each other. Jungkook is baffled as he feels no motivation to kill you. He releases the knife, choosing to wrap his fingers into your soft locks once again instead. You moan into his mouth at the soft tug to your locks and you cup his face urging him to deepen the kiss. Jungkook sighs into your mouth in response. One of his hands sliding down your body sweaty body.

He breaks the kiss, eyes lingering onto your content fucked out expression. Even though your hair was a mess, your make up was ruined and smeared he swore he has never seen anything more beautiful in his life. No expensive car, no paycheck, no drugs could give the rush you gave him. He felt defeated by you in his own wicked game. The urge to kill you never arising in his heart for the first time in a long time. "Would you like to take a shower?" He whispers sensually brushing soothing circles over the skin by your hips with his thumb and you hum in response, eyes slimming into a radiant smile. "Are you going to join me in the shower?" You ask cheekily brushing your thumb against his cheek comfortingly, mimicking his motions on your hip. He smirks in response and places a quick peck on your neck, moving his hips back and pulling his length out of your heat. You both moan quietly at the feeling. You exhale in pleasure at the feeling of his cum leaking out of your entrance. "Of course I'm going to join you. It's my house after all. What kind of gentleman will I be if I do not fulfil my guests' wishes? Especially when she's this fucking fine." He purrs sexily raising an eyebrow at you making you sigh in desire at his suggestive response. "I don't think I can walk, to be honest. You really did live up to my expectations.” You utter sleepily, making him grin down at you. He moves to the side of the bed and picks up a phone placed on top of the bedside table. You watch him groggily and he glances at you before sending a cheeky wink your way, making you chuckle slightly, your greedy fingers gliding against his lean muscles.

“It’s me. I need a maid in here to change the sheets and bring in a pair of lady pyjamas in no less than five minutes.” Jungkook strictly orders on the phone before hanging up and placing it back on top of the bedside table. Your cheeks flush at his authoritarian attitude and the fact that the maids will know he slept with you and ruined his beautiful expensive sheets. He turns to back to you, smirking cockily at your embarrassed expression.

“Now about that shower.”

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You fell onto the new fresh silky sheets on his bed completely wiped out and exhausted. You and Jungkook continued your sexual endeavours in the shower and he wasn't exactly an unfit person to get tired easily. It was so mortifying to know that ladies in his room could every single detail of what Jungkook was doing to you. It was hard keeping up with him but it was so damn worth it in the end. You feel your body ache everywhere and Jungkook chuckles and you feel his large bed dip as he plops down onto the bed beside you. "Tired baby?" He asks brazenly, making you hum in response. "You honestly never fully run out of energy do you?" You ask him not really expecting a proper answer. "Now that you mention it. I don't really think I do babe." He cheekily responds stroking your hair comfortingly. "Get some rest babe. I am a big sucker for morning sex." You flush at his words. “I could honestly fuck you all day and night.” His smirk never leaving his face. You hesitate to lean towards him, which would seem a little silly after being so intimate with him but you just didn't know if this a one-time thing and maybe he didn't see you as anything more than a typical one night stand. "Am I spending the night?" You ask cautiously and Jungkook's rested eyes fluttered open quickly after those words leave your lips. "Yeah. I don't want you going anywhere." He spoke sternly without any hint of hesitation which shocked you and himself secretly. He had never had anyone stay over before unless they were dead of course. The new side you were bringing out of him scared him deep down inside but he was so far gone for you that it seems to not matter anymore. He was becoming a little possessive in this sense though. "O-Okay."

You were beautiful even with your makeup gone and hair slightly damped after he dried it. Your skin glows and bloomed with his marks. His fingers twitched at his side as he felt an overwhelming desire to touch you and feel you again. "Come here." He ordered, lifting his sheets up slightly and you flush at the sight of his solid abs being exposed to your greedy eyes once again. Did he always sleep naked? You exhale quietly, feeling anxious as you slide across his bed, falling deep into the security of his strong arms.

“If Jeon Jungkook finds out were detectives were all going to fucking die tonight!”

Jungkook wraps his arms around you securely and your heart begins to pound against in your chest as Jin's previous words of warning begin to replay in your mind. You were pretty much sober now and fully aware of the position you were in. You look at Jungkook's face and sigh in relief when you noticed he was sound asleep. "This was wrong…so fucking wrong." The realisation of the situation started settling in and you feel your anxiety return on queue to mess with your ability to think rationally. "What the fuck have I done?" You whisper to yourself as you peer up at Jungkook's face in shame. You were completely overwhelmed by your reckless mistake.

Even though you felt strongly about Jungkook. It didn't change the fact that he was a drug dealer, part of a dangerous mafia group and possibility a murder. You were a detective. The complete opposite of him. You of all people should have known better than getting involved with someone like him, especially not intimately involved. You hear your phone vibrate in the corner of the room and you didn't realise that you had forgotten your bag in his Lamborghini the maids must have brought it up for you. You debated in your mind whether or not to sneak out or to just spend the night. You started thinking over your options and sneaking out without anyone noticing just didn't seem possible in a house full of servants. You were surely going to get caught. You make up your mind to just spend the night and leave in the morning. You hear your phone vibrate once again and you are now fully aware that someone is trying to contact you desperately. "Jin and (B/F/N) must be so worried about me". You thought to yourself as you slowly and discreetly untangle yourself from Jungkook's hold. He doesn't even as so much stir at your movements. You smile in relief that he was, in fact, a deep sleeper. You hold your breath as you tiptoe over to your bag placed against Jungkook's computer chair, silently pulling out your phone from the inside.

8 missed calls from Best Friend

5 missed calls from Jin

1 missed call from Kim Namjoon

You have several miss calls and texts messages from Jin and your best friend, along with a single missed call from Namjoon. You feel a bad feeling wash over you as you quickly begin to reply to your best friend’s texts messages. They have spammed you with how worried they were and how Jin was begging you come to the agency asap. Your eyes stay glued to Namjoon’s text message. He never contacts you this late unless it was something urgent. Your heart hammers in your chest as you unlock Namjoon’s message. Your fingers are trembling as you read his message your mind going haywire as you read through his long text message over and over again not believing what you were reading.

[Kim Namjoon]

3:35 am

Hey (Y/N) I'm sorry for contacting you this late at night but I got some leads on the case we are investigating. We found out that the killer is a guy in his early twenties. His father owns one of the most well-known mafia organisation in the world. They specialise in the illegal exportation of cocaine. He has killed multiple people throughout the years and some of his victims are not women. His last victim name was Scarlett Brooks, 22 years of age and she was last seen walking out of the club Full Moon last week Friday night around 12:30 am. We believe he goes by the name Jeon Jungkook. I have already contacted Jin and he is at the agency. I need you to get here as soon as possible. Once again sorry for contacting you so late.

You almost drop your phone in shock. You feel your chest grow cold in fear as tears well up in your eyes as you turn around hastily to glance back at Jungkook who was sleeping peacefully in his bed. He looks almost boyish as he snores quietly his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. Your chest aches as you fight back tears. Your mind going crazy as you hurriedly try to collect your thoughts. How Jungkook do those horrible things to those innocent women? You used to think you had a good understanding of people and their inner intentions. How could you have given a blind eye to someone as heartless and merciless as Jungkook? Maybe Namjoon was wrong? It was a possibility. A very low possibility but still a possibility. You reminiscence on the way he held you and kissed you. There was no way it could be Jungkook. You felt a panic attack begin to start and you try your best calm yourself. It can't be. It can’t be Jungkook. Please don’t be Jungkook. Not Jungkook. You didn't know if you were being rational or naïve. For the first time in a long time, you weren't thinking like a professional but instead, you happened to be wishfully thinking.

[You]

4:10 am: I’ll be right there.

You reply back to him with a curt reply, your hands trembling as you type the message which is supposed to be simple but because of your shaky hands, it takes longer than usual. Your phone vibrates again in your hands and you open Jin's text message, biting onto your bottom lip in unease. You bite onto the flesh unknowingly hard, causing the skin to break and blood to come dripping out. The iron taste of blood leaves an unpleasant flavour in your mouth as you open Jin's newest text.

[Jin]

4:12 am: I know that you are with him…Jimin saw you guys leaving together. I know you might not believe me but It's him (Y/N). Jungkook's the killer. That ruthless killer that decapitated and dismembered those women and men! Please tell me your safe.

[You]

4:12 am: I just saw Namjoon's text message. I'm sorry for the late reply! I'll meet you back at the agency ASAP.

You quickly snap a reply to Jin as you gather your clothes debating whether or not to catch an Uber home. Your phone percentage was exceptionally low and you mentally cringe at the red percentage displaying that you had 20% battery left. You look at your ripped blouse in agitation. How the fuck were you going to escape without being noticed? You leave the silk pyjama shirt on your body but you change back into your pencil giving up on finding your bra is this very dark room only being lightened by a little light from the full moon outside. You throw your PJ pants into your purse and flinch in shock at the sudden vibration coming from your phone. You glance at your home screen while placing your free hand over your racing heart.

[Jin]

4:15 am: THANK GOODNESS YOUR OKAY!? WHERE ARE YOU?? DO YOU NEED ME TO PICK YOU UP??

4:15 am: We were so worried about you

you have no idea.

4:15 am: I'm sorry for not paying enough attention

[You]

4:16 am: I'm okay Jin! I shouldn't have left the club and made you guys worry. I'm sorry. I'm okay though and I'll meet you back at the agency.

[Jin]

4:17 am: Okay but promise me you'll call me or message me if anything happens? Just please be safe and be smart. Message me as soon as you get here.

[You]

4:17 am: I will! See you soon!

[Jin]

4:17 am: See you! Remember to message me if anything happens!

Once that message sends, you are quick to place your phone back into your purse quietly, trying your best to make as little noise as possible. You exhale shakily as you try your best to calm your nerves. You felt confused and conflicted after thinking about everything that has happened tonight with Jungkook. It's not like you just liked him because of sex appeal. You peep at Jungkook quietly walking over to the edge of his bed. His beautiful sleeping face was being illuminated faintly by the moon. He was so gorgeous. You instantly jump out of your trance when his face contorts in discomfort. It was almost as if he was in some kind of pain as he releases a grunt in his sleep. His chest begins to rise and fall at a faster pace as he inhales and exhales faster. Was Jungkook having a nightmare?

"Please forgive me father…," Jungkook mumbles as he begins moving his head from side to side. You feel your heart drop instantly at the anguish in his expression. You knew he was hurting. "Please father…don't…don't hurt me." He chokes out, his body now trembling slightly. Sweats build upon his forehead and you couldn't tolerate watching him suffering any longer. "J-Jungkook…" You stutter quietly while brushing his fringe out of his eyes gently. Jungkook instantly captures your hand, making you flinch in shock at his sudden contact. Your heart races as you think he has woken up. He continues to snore peacefully making you exhale in relief. It was so wrong caring for your enemy but you couldn't help it. You were acting by your heart, not your mind.

Getting out of the Jeon's residence was a struggle and so astonishingly stressful. The maids almost seem stunned at your presence. As if they were expecting you to be dead. You feel a chill run down your spine at the thought. You almost felt dirty. Even though you have already showered you wanted to take another. You wanted to remove every trace of Jeon Jungkook on your body. You walk past a large gold-framed mirror in the hall of the mansion. Your eyes almost popping out of your head at the numerous hickeys covering your neck and chest. What the fuck is Namjoon going to think if I show up like this? They were so obvious and dark. There was no way in hell you could show up to the agency looking like this.

“Oh, it’s you (Y/N).”

You jump in fear at the familiar voice coming from close behind you. You look back horrified as Park Jimin stands there with a smug expression on his face. He is still wearing the delectable attire that he was wearing at the club. He looks at you up and down. You flush in embarrassment as the catcalls at the sight of your hickey covered skin. "Looks like you and Jungkook got along quite well last night." There was a hint of teasing his statement that left you feeling almost ashamed at your reckless behaviour. "What is it Jimin?" You rushed him with the question as you gulp, turning your head stiffly as you avert your gaze to the clock hanging up by the stairs. It was well past 5 am and you couldn't believe he was still up at this time. "Are you in a rush sweetheart?" Jimin answers your question with a question of his own as he smirks at you. "No. Not at all." You curtly reply, averting your gaze back to his and he chuckles quietly. His eyes roaming your dishevelled appearance.

"Did you just get here?" You ask politely and he nods his head in response. "Yeah, I thought I'd stop by and see if you were still alive." Your eyes widen in shock at his statement and he chuckles quietly, pushing his hands into his pants pockets leisurely. "Just kidding sweetheart. No need to give me that look." He looked a little tipsy as he gazes at you with a suggestive smile. His cologne and the smell of alcohol clouds your senses and he is loving every second of your timid attitude. "Do you like Jungkook?" His question catches you off guard and you nod bashfully in response not wanting to make anything worse for yourself. "Well, …that's a shame. I really wanted to leave with you and give you some good Park Jimin head. I ain't messing with Jungkook's girls though. He'd probably shoot me, but if you ever get tired of him, I'm here and more than willing enough to give you some good dick." Jimin smirks and removes one of his hands from his trousers to cup your face in the palm of his hand gently. You stiffen at the sudden contact before taking a quick step back, creating some distance between you and Jimin. "I'm sorry Jimin but I-I really um have to go." You say hastily before twisting on your heels and bolting down the stairs of the mansion. You feel almost breathless as you make your escape. Your legs still excoriatingly sore from Jungkook's intense fucking, leaving you to feel a little unsteady on your feet. You feel Jimin's eyes glued to your back, making you want to escape faster. Jimin watches you leave with a wide grin plastered on his face. His phone vibrating in his pocket only captures his attention briefly. He reaches into his pocket before pulling out his phone and clicking the answer button.

“Hey Taehyung …yeah I just made it to Jungkook’s and you won’t believe it. The girl is still alive. (Y/N) is still alive.”

“Is she now? Well if she is alive…it probably won’t be for long.” Taehyung’s statement leaves Jimin slightly baffled. “What do you mean?”

“She does not work for a publishing company. Hoseok did some research and apparently, she's a detective. You are not going to believe who she works for…" There is silence on the line now after Jimin registered the new given information.

“Who is it?”

“She works for Kim Namjoon.”

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"Hey, you made it!" Jin exclaims as immediate relief washes over him and he races over to you when you push open the agencies door. It was now approximately two hours after you left the Jeon residence which was an actual pain in the ass to leave considering there was people guarding the gate and no one really wanted to wake up Jungkook to ask him for permission to allow you to leave. After about 30 minutes of back to back chitchat between you and the guards, you were allowed to leave. "Jin! I'm so sorry!" You sob running into his arms and he pats your back comfortingly. "Don't apologise! I'm just glad you're okay." You both pull back from the brief embrace, gazing at each other with a warm smile. "Thanks, Jin…I promise I'll make it up to you and (b/f/n)!" You murmur, feeling guilt wash over you. "No seriously it's okay! We're both just glad that you're safe-"

Jin’s words seem to be getting distance as you ponder on what Jungkook was doing right now. The whole Uber ride you couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook. It was like he was consuming you in every way possible and you couldn't shake the thought of him out of your head. You pondered if he has woken up yet and what he would think when he saw you missing. His presence lingers.  Your muscles were sore and your heat was still aching.  Memories of Jungkook staying imprinted in your mind and you secretly didn’t want to forget anything that has happened with Jungkook.

“(Y/N) you have arrived.” Namjoon’s stern voice echoes throughout the agencies entrance and you fix your posture immediately as soon as your in his presence. “I-I’m sorry for being late Mr Kim.” You apologise in a dejected tone as you place a hand against the side of your neck to cover a few marks left on your skin by Jungkook without being too obvious. Jin’s eyes widen in shock at the hickeys peeking out of your shirt. "We'll talk in here." Namjoon barely pays your timid attitude any mind as he ushers both you and Jin into his office. "You couldn't get yourself a turtleneck before you came?" Jin teasing whispers in your ear as you both follow behind Namjoon. "Shut up." You spat at him as he looks at you with a shit eating grin. "At least you're okay." He muttered patting you gently on the arm. "I have set up the evidence I've gathered on my pin board," Namjoon says while pointing towards his pinboard which was covered in articles, photos and papers. You feel your heartache painfully when your eyes land on a photograph of Jungkook on there.

"There is security footage of Brooks leaving full moon…she appears to be with Jeon Jungkook. Although the club refused to give us the actual footage there are numerous witnesses that have identified Jungkook as a potential suspect. I have also gathered some past articles on the Jeon family and their past criminal history doesn't look very good. I used to investigate this family and to be honest, I'm not very surprised that it's Jungkook."

The more Namjoon talks the more you feel the need to cry.  Jin notices your expression falter under Namjoon's stern voice and he exhales inaudibly not being able to bare your hurt expression. "Jungkook took a few anatomy classes in College which makes sense on how he knows where to slice his victims and he was under arrest a couple of times in the past on several drug and assault charges but was released on bail every time. Even though, I'm positive that Jungkook is suspect we still need to interview a few close friends. This case is going to be one of the most difficult cases to deal with appropriately. The reason why I chose both of you as detectives for this case is that you are both experienced and smart enough to handle it. I have high hopes for the both of you. "

“Yes, sir.”

"At this point of the investigation, I am certain that Jungkook is the one killing all these women and men. What I need from you both now is to go home and get some rest up for the day and to come in tomorrow with a fresh start so we can come up with an appropriate and more efficient strategy on how we are going to handle this situation. You both look extremely exhausted and won't be able to work to the standard that I need from the both of you right now. Do not be late tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?" Namjoon's stern voice and face doesn't leave any room for disagreements. He peers at both you and Jin with the same serious and superior persona.

“Yes, sir!”

“You are both dismissed.”

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"Father, why do you hate me so much?" Jungkook asks meekly as he lets his father beat him to a pulp. Blood gushing out from his nose and a bruise forming on both sides of his face. Jungkook is merely a child who was getting used to his father’s abuse. He cries as he tries to fend off his alcoholic father. “It’s all your fault…” His father mutters while hiccupping, as he swings his bottle of whisky at a terrified Jungkook who barely dodges the bottle. The glass shattering everywhere and slicing Jungkook’s skin on his arms and legs. “F-Father Please!”

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU SORRY EXCUSE OF A SON!" His father shouts in resentment as he wobbles over to Jungkook, who tries to scramble away from but ends up cutting himself even further from the glass shattered on the ground. "It's because of you that she died. You were a murderer at birth. I fucking can't stand you. I fucking hate you."

Jungkook sits up on his bed waking up with a start. His chest heaving up and down as he inhales and exhales harshly. His heart racing in his chest as the built-up sweat on his forehead drips down the side of his face. He shuts his eyes grimacing from the sunlight streaking through his large window. "Fuck…it was just a dream." He murmurs to himself in relief as he steadies his breathing with a racing heart. Placing the palm of his hand over his eyes as they adjust to the daylight.

"Jungkook! You up man?" Jimin walks into Jungkook's room standing his door with a cup of coffee his hand. He smirks at the latter before leaning against the door frame while crossing his legs. "Jimin? What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook asks barely acknowledging him as he stretches out his tense muscles. Jimin chuckles before taking a sip of the coffee in his hands. "Had a good night last night?" Jimin's questions make Jungkook recollect his memory. "(Y/n)." He glances down at the side of the bed, frowning when he finds it empty.

"If you're looking for (Y/n), she left early this morning. She was a complete mess when I saw her. I can imagine you had a good time last night…huh, Kooky?" Jimin says smirking at Jungkook who pulls up his covers, sliding out of the comfort of his bed. "What time did she leave?" Jungkook asks bending down and putting on some sweatpants. He was incredibly pissed that you had left without his knowledge. Jimin tenses his face as he thinks. "About 5 in the morning." Jungkook retraces his memory and his smile is unknowingly warm as he thinks about you and what you both experienced the night before. Jimin peers at Jungkook with a shocked expression on his face. Almost dropping his cup at the sight. Jungkook's smile was so sincere and radiant.  Jimin was, in fact, witnessing right now one of the most genuine smiles he's ever seen coming from Jungkook in a very long time. "I didn't want to kill her…I didn't want her to leave me, to be honest with you." Jungkook mutters as a grin spreads across his lips. "I love seeing you this happy Jungkook…but I wouldn't be so fond of her just yet." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at Jimin as he sighs with unease. "There is something that Hoseok found out this morning about Jin and (Y/N)…and I don't really think you're going to like it." Jungkook stares at Jimin with hooded eyes. His jaw tightens as he grinds his teeth in thought. "Where's Hoseok?"

"He's downstairs eating breakfast with the rest of the crew."

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"I actually liked Seokjin. It's honestly such a pity." Taehyung chuckles as he chews obnoxiously loud on his blueberry pancakes. "We were pretty close in college," Jimin says pouting slightly. "So how are you planning on killing them Jungkook?" Jungkook barely grazes his food as he stares at his plate lost for words. The whole table is tense and Jimin exhales in discomfort for what felt like the 10th time that morning. “I can’t believe they work for Namjoon of all people.” Yoongi murmurs after downing his glass of orange juice. “Yeah, Namjoon has been investigating the Jeon family for years. Wasn’t he the one to place both you and your dad in jail before? He’s a really good detective.” Taehyung murmurs as he continues to chew his food. “(Y/N) must be a good detective too if she’s working for him. Namjoon is a perfectionist.” Yoongi adds as he glances at Jungkook with a raised eyebrow. “If they didn’t work for Namjoon, Jungkook probably would of let them go…” Hoseok smirks as he stares at Jungkook, who glares back at him in response. “What are you gonna do Jungkook?”

Jungkook couldn't help but feel disappointed but he didn't really know what he was expecting from you anyway. Even if you didn't lie to him, why would someone like you want to be someone as messed up like him?  Jungkook wanted you though and that was something he couldn't completely deny. "Don't tell me you got a little crush on the detective?" Yoongi mumbles playing with his breakfast. "Hey, she was hot though." Taehyung states chuckling which causes an irk of irritation to bubble in Jungkook. "Jungkook…don't forget that she works for Namjoon," Hoseok states as he observes Jungkook's conflicted appearance. "I know that." He mutters before abruptly standing onto his feet. "Hoseok give me a copy of her details. I'm going to handle her myself."

“Whatever you say, Bro.”

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"Wow, Namjoon can be so scary sometimes," Jin mutters as he is driving you home. "I can't believe its Jungkook. I knew he was messed up but not that messed up. It was kind of awkward after you left the club with him. Jimin had this weird change in personality and the others just kept snorting cocaine and getting drunk. I'm honestly surprised they didn't die of alcohol poisoning." You glance out the car window not really in the mood to be talking about last night. "Let's just not talk about last night." You murmur resting your chin on the palm of your hand. "Okay…But I'm curious to know how you and Jungkook left together last night." Your breath hitches your throat at Jin's words. “Please...let’s just drop this conversation.” You murmur as you watch Jin glance down at your phone charging in his car.  

"I think your phones vibrating (Y/N)," Jin says not taking his eyes off the road and you nod your head in response even though he couldn't see you. Someone was calling you on no caller id and you were praying it wasn't a scammer or something to annoy you even more than you already were at that very moment.

“Hello?”

"Hey, babe…I missed you this morning." Your eyes widen in shock at the sound of the familiar pet name and husky voice belonging to the very person that was occupying your thoughts.

"J-Jungkook?" You exclaim and Jin swerves on the road. "WHAT? JUNGKOOK? AS IN JEON JUNGKOOK!?" Jin exclaims and you glare at him while placing an index finger against your lip to shush him in response. "It's me, baby. It's so good hearing your voice. I'm getting hard just remembering you screaming my name over and over again last night…" Your face flushes at his shameless response and Jin looks at you mortified. You open and close your mouth not really knowing how to respond to his lewd comment. "I owe you a shirt and don’t forget that you owe me morning sex." Jungkook chuckles. Your fingers clench your phone harder in response. "I-I-Jungkook- Forget about the shirt and I-I don't really owe you anything…"

"Is something wrong (Y/N)? Is there a reason you left so hastily this morning?" The questions catches you even more off guard and when you don't reply he breaks the awkward silence with a chilling laugh. "I supposed you don't owe me morning sex but it really is a pity…I really wanted to get my hands on you and pleasure you past your breaking point just like how I did last night…I know you want me (Y/N) …However, it really is a shame that you do in fact owe me one important explanation…"

"Explanation? I-I don't know what you are talking about." You hurriedly say to him with your chest squeezing in agony. "Tsk, Tsk. Playing dumb now, are we? Oh, beautiful (Y/n). What am I going to do with you?" You gulp embarrassingly loudly as you ponder over his words. He didn’t know you were a detective? Did he?

Jin glances at you multiple times, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. You glance at Jin in distress. "Jungkook…H-How did you even get my number?" There is a slight pause on the line before he exhales in annoyance.

“Listen, I’ll be frank with you (Y/N). I know that both you and Jin lied to me last night. I just want you to know that you ought to be careful when playing in my wicked games…who will win I wonder?”

You feel your breathing become heavier as he sighs into the phone. "Be very careful baby girl. You shouldn't be messing with the wrong kind of people. It will be a shame if something bad was to happen to you. We wouldn't want you getting hurt now do we?"

You hang up abruptly. Your chest contorting painfully as become overcome with emotion. Jin is the first person to break the silence by clearing his throat. "So…you and Jungkook really did hook up last night?" You exhale quietly, in a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves before glancing at him gloomily.

"Yes, Jin…We hooked up."

The silence returns as Jin averts his gaze back on the road. You watch him silently as he presses his lips tightly together face looking like he was deep in thought. His index fingers tap lightly on the steering wheel as he puckers his lips. You knew that familiar cheeky expression on his face.

“So…” He starts glancing back at you with a not so discrete smirk forming on his handsome face. “Was he good at least?”

"KIM SEOKJIN!"

  _͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽_͓̽

You have never felt so physically and mentally exhausted as you enter your home, nearly dropping dead asleep on the hard floor. First, you had endured everything that has happened with Jungkook and then has to survive Jin's teasing the whole drive home. You slept for a solid 3 hours before you were stirred awake from the ringing coming off your phone. You groan as you groggily search for your phone by tapping on your bed with your eyes closed. Once you made contact with it, you answered it without even bothering to look at the caller id. “Hello?” You sleepily respond, getting agitated by the silence coming from the other end.

“Hello-“

“Open your front door, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Your whole body jolting forward now fully awake. “Jungkook-“

You were interrupted by the sound of beeping. He had hung up on you. You grew tense as you debated whether or not to open your front door or contact someone for help. There was a subtle knock on the door which made you flinch in fear. You quietly crawled out of bed, rushing to your side table, opening the top drawer to grab your handgun which was fully loaded. You were trained for these sort of events. You crept towards your front door, holding your pistol in both hands. You were silently baffled by the absence of a shadow outside your front door. Your heart races as you felt the adrenaline kick in. Your grips on the door handle it tight and you say a quick prayer before swinging the door open and pointing your gun to nothing. You stood there with your hands trembling as you scan your surroundings completely bewildered at no one being in sight. You keep your gun in your hands as you step forward eyes landing on a single package in front of you. You peer at the package with suspicion as you read the note stuck on the front.

“I hope you like your new shirt baby girl. I had to get you only the finest of quality. Think of me.”

-      Jeon Jungkook

The call with Jungkook leaves you feeling scared and exhausted. Only he could play with your emotions as much as he did. He even had the nerve to write ‘Think of me,’ at the end as if you weren’t thinking about him enough already. One minute he was making you drown in pleasure the next minute he leaves you sobbing in fear on your cold bathroom floor. Only a few hours after you got home a package came from Jungkook with a brand new designer dress shirt in your exact size. The shirt is branded and is something that you have never ever imagined yourself owning. Not only did he have your number, he knew where you lived as well. How he got his hands on this information makes you terrified.  

“What the fuck are you playing at Jeon Jungkook?”

After the package came you decide to call Jin and let him know of the events that have happened tonight. Jin was apologetic, to say the least after informing you that he was at the hospital with his girlfriend who was experiencing immense pain in her abdomen and couldn't stay the night with you.  You felt your heart race as you told him it was fine and that you were fine when you really weren't. Hanging up the phone you open your laptop instead, reading through every one of Jungkook's suspected murder cases. You felt a panic attack start to happen as you felt emotionally wrecked. The gruesome details of what he has done to his victims has you feeling nauseous. You weren't as terrified of the thought of Jungkook harming you as terrified as you were at the thought of yourself having some deep feelings for him. You almost felt emotionally attached to him and in a way, you haven't felt towards anyone else before.

"Am I spending the night?" You ask cautiously and Jungkook's rested eyes fluttered open quickly after those words leave your lips. "Yeah. I don't want you going anywhere."

Thoughts of Jungkook comes to you in waves as you retrace the places Jungkook kissed and caressed on your body. You are almost breathless as run your needy fingers over the parts of your body that showed attention which was almost every part of your body. You felt a familiar heat rush to your core and you tried your hardest to resist touching yourself at the thought of him pleasuring you. You exhale in shakily as you slide your fingers inside your shorts. Right before you could circle your clit there was a slight knock to at your door. You are startled when a knock at your door pulls you of your thoughts. You quickly remove your hand that was inside your shorts. Your thoughts become clouded as you swing your legs over the side of your bed. Your feet padded on the ground quietly as you make your way to the front door. It could be Jin and (B/F/N) but as your hand makes contact with the door handle and you pause in your tracks. What if it was Jungkook?

You are frantically rushing back to your room to grab your hand pistol when there is another knock at the door. Swallowing your fear you grasp onto your pistol with trembling hands. You hurriedly rush back to open the door, you point your gun at the persons face and you are wide-eyed at the sight of Jungkook standing leisurely at your front door wearing a suit. He is wearing an even fancier looking suit than last time, which looks absolutely dashing on him. He smirks when he sees your stern face. You almost falter at his gorgeous appearance. Your hands shaking at you point your gun at him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"  You question him breathlessly and Jungkook chuckles quietly. "I came to see you of course," Jungkook answers you with a laid-back demeanour, not even a little bit fazed by your gun is pointed at his face. "J-Jungkook…" You stammer as he steps forward. "You look just as inviting as the first night I met you," Jungkook says sighing quietly as his eyes roam your appearance. You weren’t wearing anything fancy. Just a t-shirt and a pair of comfortable short shorts that you wear to bed. You almost blush in embarrassment at how underdressed you were compared to his attire. "Absolutely gorgeous." You flush at his compliment your stern expression cracking as you falter under his intense gaze. "Leave here! Before I-I shoot you. I won’t hesitate to shoot." Your attempt at scaring him didn't seem to work as he chuckles again this time a little louder as he lunges towards you. You pull the trigger missing him as he lifts your hands above your head. Your eyes widen in shock at his speed. His hold on your arms begins to ache as he squeezes your flesh tightly.  

"AH! Let go of me!" You cry out in pain as Jungkook walks you backwards, back into your home. He kicks your door close with his foot as he steps inside. Your hold on the gun becomes weak and Jungkook hits it out of your hands. You yelp in fear as you watch the handgun slide across your living room. "That's not how you greet someone baby girl." You struggle in his hold and Jungkook exhales in annoyance. "LET ME GO! YOU-YOU MURDER!" Your words make Jungkook heart twinge in pain and he glares at you with hooded eyes. His jaw tensing as he pushes you down onto your couch. "L-Let me go! Get off of me!" You screech, feeling warm tears slide down your cheeks. “Just leave me alone!”Jungkook's eyes widened at the sight of your tears, your face contorting in pain. His hold on your wrists loosens slightly as he stares at you dejectedly. "J-Jungkook…" You whisper as he moves his face closer to yours. You stare at him wide-eyed as the tears stop running down your face. "J-Jungkook what-" You watch his handsome face inch closer as the familiar smell of his cologne sets you surprisingly at ease. He shushes you and you watch him completely mesmerised as his thumb soothes the skin at your wrists that had a red mark on them from him squeezing your wrists too tightly.

"I'm sorry…" He whispers before pressing his lips to yours. It takes you a moment to realise that he was kissing you. You stop struggling altogether as you slowly close your eyes shut, completely immersing yourself into the kiss. His taste and the familiar sensation of his lips on your own has you seeing stars. You felt warmth rush to your heat and he deepens the kiss when he realises you weren't going to resist. He smiles against your lips and you feel your heart flutter at the action. When you both pull apart he peers at you with a surprising soft expression. You scan his face, taking in every single detail you possibly could and imprinting it into your mind. "(Y/N)…" The way he says your name makes you weak and you look up at him curiously. "Yes?" You whisper, unconsciously smiling as Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours. He looks conflicted as he debates whether or not to continue with what he was about to say. You usher him on by tightening your hold on his hands. Jungkook looks down at you surprised by your actions and you force a small smile up at him in response.

"I-I think I'm in love with you."  He confesses just above a whisper and you feel butterflies begin to form in your stomach as he presses another soft kiss to your temple. "I can't stop thinking about you…" He continues eyes taking in your appearance as you look up at him nervously. "I-I have done a lot of bad things in the past to both men and women. I know you know about everything that I have done and I am not mad at you for resenting me because of it…I thought about everything and I thought about you." His words make your eyes water as you let him continue quietly. "I-I love you. So I'm not going to hurt you…but I do need one favour from you." You raise an eyebrow at him confused by his words. Jungkook waits for you to respond and you ponder over his words feeling nervous over what that favour could be. "And what exactly would that favour be?" You ask trying your best not to stutter and he smiles down at you sorrowfully. His expression is similar to the one he was making when he was having a nightmare the night before and it was painful enough to make your heartbreak. "What is it Jungkook?" You ask quietly waiting patiently for him to respond. "I need you to be the one to kill me." Jungkook's words leave you speechless and you felt your heart constrict in your chest painfully. "W-What?" You ask praying that you heard him wrong.

"I don't see any other way around it (Y/N)…If I get caught by police I'll serve multiple life sentences, or get sentenced to death either way…I don't care if I die. I do not value my life but I value yours. I don't want you to lose your job and If I am going to die anyway I need you to be the one to kill me. Please (Y/N)…Kill me. Put me out of my misery. I don't want to hurt anymore."

You both stare at each other silently, you feel tears stream down your face as you untangle your hands from Jungkook’s. Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock and disappointment but that is quick to change as you wrap your arms around his neck instead. “Let’s just not talk about this right now…Just please kiss me Jungkook." You bring his face closer to yours and you passionately press your lips against his. His lips curl into a smile as he kisses you back with just as much passion. As you both continue to lip lock, your thoughts drift. Jungkook had everything. He was smart, good-looking, wealthy, practically good at everything he did and he even had lots of friends. Even people like him can be unhappy and that was a huge eye opener for you. You weren't the only one suffering, even people like Jungkook had their own fair share of problems. Pushing his past mistakes aside for the moment, all you wanted right now was the comfort and you wanted nothing more than to comfort him too. You despised yourself but it looks like Jungkook despised himself even more.

“Can I stay the night?” Jungkook whispers against your lips and you nod eagerly. “Please don’t go anywhere.” You whisper back before smiling up at him. “Stay with me.” Jungkook kisses you fervently, your tongues meeting and his hands run down your body. The familiarity of the situation makes you feel hot and anticipating eagerly for what’s to come. It was the same Jungkook just this time he was being more gentle. His hands slide up your shirt and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your bare breasts. “I want to put my arms around you. I want to hold you.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips as he kisses jaw and trails wet kisses down your neck. “Look at you. You look so pretty with my marks all over your body. Do you know you left scratches on my back too?” He smirks at the sight of the hickeys he left the night before. “Fuck…” Jungkook growls feeling his heart race as he retraces his steps and you want nothing more than to feel him buried inside you. “You left way too many marks, you idiot.” Jungkook chuckles sweetly and you grin down at him as he curls his fingers at the bottom of your shirt. “Lift your arms up beautiful.” You smile at his command and lift your hands up, so he could easily tug your shirt off your body. He groans at the sight of your naked chest. “I love everything about you.” Your nipples perky and breasts covered in his love bites. He is quick to latch onto your right nipple, his other hand grabbing and fondling with the other. You moan shamelessly loud as he gives the other the same attention. He is unfazed by your hands grabbing at his locks and he smirks against your chest. “Just like that baby. Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

"Jungkook, please…I need you." Jungkook growls as he kisses his way to the waistband of your shorts. "F-Fuck… you're so fucking hot." He groans as he pulls both your shorts and panties off in one swift motion. You are laying there completely bare below him and his eyes filled with lust as you sit up to tug off his blazer and unbutton his white collared shirt. “What’s the rush sweetheart?” Jungkook chuckles at your eagerness and helps you unbutton his shirt. “I can’t be the only one naked.” You flush under his intense gaze and he shrugs everything off besides his tie. You unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper of his dress pants and he stands up momentarily to tug his pants and underwear off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick and long length. You still can’t get over his size. He winks at you teasingly before tugging his shoes and socks off his feet. You tug him back down onto you with a pull to his tie and he bites his lips at your sexy appearance and actions. You make him sit on the couch as you straddle him keenly. Jungkook lets you push him down and he grabs your hips.

“Fuck baby are you going to ride me?” Jungkook smirks as you look up at him through your lashes. Your fingers are wrapped with his tie as you align him to your entrance with your other free hand. Your wetness starts coating Jungkook’s length and Jungkook groans at the feeling. “Are you sure you don’t want me to eat you out?” Jungkook asks stroking a hand over your thigh. Making goose bumps appear on the skin he caresses. The offer was so tempting but you were in desperate need of his cock stretching you out more than anything.  “No. I just really want your cock.” You teasingly murmur, causing Jungkook to bite down hard onto his bottom lip.“Fuck, take my cock baby. It’s all yours.” You pressed together chest to chest and you feel your sensitive nipples make contact with his strong muscular chest. You both moan loudly as you sink down on him. You take a moment to adjust to his size. The stretch is incredible. Jungkook peers at you with lust filled eyes.

“S-Shit.” Jungkook huskily moans as your mouth hangs open. He bites onto your neck and you hold onto his shoulders tightly. "You are so fucking tight." He groans throwing his head back as he holds your hips. "And you're so fucking big." You moan as you start to bounce. Jungkook eggs you on by meeting your hips with his thrusts from below. You feel his length stretching you out deliciously and Jungkook loves the way your sucking him right back up. You continue riding him sensually and Jungkook moans as you tighten around him surprising fast. "F-Fuck you feel so good." Jungkook groans and you nod your head as he meets your thrusts. You gyrate your hips as he hits your spot every single time. You feel your orgasm approaching and he uses his thumb to rub at your clit. You shudder and tremble as you become overwhelmed in familiar pleasure. “Fuck Jungkook!” You cry out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you hard. He holds you steady as you began to quiver uncontrollably in pleasure. Jungkook feels himself chase his own orgasm at the sight of your orgasm and he growls before pulling his length out of you and releasing all over your stomach. You both pant against each other. Your gaze locked on each other. You feel emotions build up in your chest as the adoration you already felt for him starts to grow.

You sit on top of him as you catch your breath. You watch Jungkook's chest rise and fall as he breathlessly chuckles. You smile down at him chuckling with him. Your hand still wrapped in his tie. Jungkook's grip on either side of your hips loosens as he watches you with hooded eyes. "I'm not gonna lie…" You say kissing Jungkook softly on his swollen lips. "I'm kind of liking this wicked game of yours. Even if it does end up killing me."

✎ to be continued ...

Masterlist

#btsguild #kloversnet #vocalkingsnet #gguknet #btscreatorsnet #jungkook #jeongguk #smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #mafia au #jungkook mafia au #drug dealer #jeon jeongguk drug dealer #jeon jeongguk mafia au #jeon jeongguk mafia #mafia #reader #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jeongguk x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts jeongguk #jeongguk imagine #jungkook imagine #imagine #jungkook fic #jeongguk fic #jungkook scenario

[yellingmetatron]

The Story of Saint Olga of Kiev

Well kids, Metamun is here for story time.  You see, I’ve recently learned of a Kievan saint named Olga who has charmed me to the moon in back.  I had originally thought to write about her in-character as Metatron, but, well…

To be perfectly frank, Olga is sort of terrifying.  Terrifying in a way that particularly appeals to me, but that might just be my Slav coming out.  Weirdly, I feel much more comfortable expressing my admiration personally than having Metatron do it, despite the fact he’d probably feel the same—he’s “good” not “nice”.  Still, I’d much rather have people think I’m a bloodthirsty nut than my muse.

Once upon a time in the mid-900′s AD, the wife of the ruler of the Kievan Rus’ was a woman named Olga—or, if you like, Helga. She was a Varangian, you see, the descendant of Vikings that settled in Slavic territory, and therefore something of a cultural mix.  The Varangians were a force to be reckoned with, and often called to serve the Byzantine Emperor as his personal guards.  Olga and her husband Igor were pagans, probably following a syncretic Nordic-Slavic pantheon.

Now, Kiev was the most powerful city on the Dnieper.  As such, the Kievans had many tributaries from whom they collected money and raised soldiers.  One such tributary tribe was that of the Drevlians, who had in the past aided the Kievans when they fought Byzantium.  But when Igor took the throne, they decided to switch their allegiances.  Igor wasn’t having with that, and met the Drevlians in person to demand they pay their due tribute.  They agreed, but as he was riding home, Igor decided that they’d come up short.  He went back to demand more tribute.  The Drevlians, perhaps understandably, decided to kill him.  This would prove to be a big mistake, though not as big as what they did next.

See, the Drevlian prince quite liked the idea of being the new ruler of Kiev.  And with Igor out of the way, Olga was single.  With Igor dead, she would be named regent for her three-year-old son, which meant she was going to be the main power in Kiev for quite some time to come.  As his wife, she’d be expected to defer to her husband in most things.  The Drevlians decided to send a diplomatic delegation to Kiev, explaining that they’d just murdered her husband, and that their Prince intended to wed her.

Now, it’s not discussed in the chronicle itself, but I figure a few thoughts occurred to Olga: First off, she was in an incredibly precarious position as a regent.  All of her actual authority was derived through being the mother of her three-year-old son, and as history teaches us, toddlers are distressingly easy to get rid of.  There was every reason to assume her new husband would try to have him disinherited in favor of his own heirs—and that was only if he were feeling indulgent enough not to murder the boy outright.  Her own subjects would also be massively indignant that their city was being put in the power of foreigners; some native Kievans might get ideas about staging a coup.  To sum up: Both Olga and her son, Svyatoslav, had massive flashing targets stuck on their foreheads.  She needed to act quickly to establish to her subjects that she and Svyatoslav were not people to go against.

So, she was all smiles and niceties to the people who came to tell her they killed her husband and wanted her to marry their leader:

“Your proposal is pleasing to me; indeed, my husband cannot rise again from the dead. But I desire to honor you tomorrow in the presence of my people. Return now to your boat, and remain there with an aspect of arrogance. I shall send for you on the morrow, and you shall say, ‘We will not ride on horses nor go on foot; carry us in our boat.’ And you shall be carried in your boat.”

They probably couldn’t have been more pleased with this outcome.  This lady sure was pliable!  Exactly what they wanted in their Prince’s new wife. They did as Olga asked, haughtily demanding to be carried through the city in their boat as if it were a palanquin.  To their delight, the Kievans complied, cheering all the while as they carried the boat to its final destination.  Its final destination in this context being a massive pit Olga had dug right in the middle of court.  Olga had them buried alive, but not before asking them if this great honor was to their liking.  The response is not recorded, but I’d hazard “no”.

In doing this Olga made two things clear: She was a pious and devoted wife who would stop at nothing to avenge her husband, and she was absolutely somebody you didn’t wanna fuck with.  But she wasn’t done yet.  As far as anybody among the Drevlians knew she was still hosting the Drevlian delegation—dead men tell no tales, and the Kievans weren’t gonna tip their own ruler’s hand.  The Drevlians were pleased when she sent a messenger thanking them for their diplomatic visit, and requesting that they send more of their distinguished nobles and warriors “so that she might go to their Prince with due honor.”  She emphasized this particularly: She wanted them to send “the best men who governed the land of Dereva”.  Naturally, a lot of Drevlian bigwigs were eager to sign up for such an honor.

As with the last group, she received them with great pomp and hospitality.  She commanded her people to draw a bath for these fine men, so that they might appear in full cleanliness and dignity before her.  The Drevlians went merrily to the bathhouse, at which point Olga had all the doors blocked and set the place on fire.  There were no survivors.  Olga, as we shall see repeatedly confirmed, didn’t do anything half-way.

So she sent yet another message to Dereva.  They still hadn’t heard what happened to everybody they sent to Kiev, but just sort of assumed they were still partying it up in the great city.  This time, Olga asked politely that she be allowed to enter the Drevlian city where they killed her husband.  Although she of course still intended to marry their prince, as a devoted widow she must weep over his grave and throw him a funeral feast—remember, she was a Varangian.  Mourning among Viking types generally involved a lot of mead.

She was graciously allowed her visit with her retinue, and per her request, they even footed the bill for all the mead.  She took the opportunity to have a good cry over her husband’s remains, as was proper for a Varangian widow.  Personally, I hope she got some genuine closure.  And then the feasting started.  But Olga’s retinue notably didn’t carouse quite so hard as their hosts. Once the Drevlians were good and drunk, she gave the order for her sober soldiers to begin a great massacre.  Supposedly five-thousand Drevlians were killed, a number which I think was exaggerated but does make for an impressive story.  Although Olga was not a shield-maiden type and did not take part directly in the slaughter, she did walk among her retinue, encouraging them as they cut down everyone in their path.  What a great manager!

So finally the rest of Dereva figured out what was going on, and an official state of war was declared.  Olga, remember, had already decapitated their leadership and diplomatic corps, as well as taking out a considerable chunk of their army.  She led the Kievans to victory after victory in the battlefield, so that in the end only the capital city of the Drevlians, Iskorosten, held out.  The Kievans lay siege to it for a year, and there were still no signs of them giving up.  Olga was starting to get impatient.  So she sent this message:

“Why do you persist in holding out? All your cities have surrendered to me and submitted to tribute, so that the inhabitants now cultivate their fields and their lands in peace. But you had rather tide of hunger, without submitting to tribute.”

Translated into modern English: “Come on out.  Olga won’t hurt you~”

The Drevlians sent word back that they were afraid she was still sore about that whole murdering her husband thing.  Olga tut-tutted, saying she’d had enough revenge after everything she’d already done.  Protip: Never believe a Varangian lady when she tells you something like that.  Anyway, she told the Drevlians she only wanted a token show of submission: Three pigeons and three sparrows from the roofs of each house in Iskorosten.  The Drevlians breathed a sigh of relief that their tribute would be so light, and complied.

When this tribute was delivered, Olga had her soldiers tie a piece of cloth and sulfur to the leg of each bird.  Then she told them to set each piece aflame.  In a panic, the birds flew back to their nests, which as has been established were in the roofs of every house in Iskorosten.  Soon the whole city was burning, and nobody could put the fires out quickly enough because the flames were coming from everywhere.  The Drevlians fled their city, whereupon Olga had some killed and some taken into slavery, a gift for her followers.  She did leave some of the Drevlians alive in Iskorosten, though; enough to supply a decent tribute in the future.

Now, Olga did all this while she was a pagan.  Although there are plenty of gory saints, all this fuss isn’t what got her canonized.

Supposedly, the Byzantine Emperor next tried his hand at wooing our Olga. This, like so many details in hagiographies, might be a fabrication; the historical Emperor at the time was already married.  Of course, there are a number of nasty possibilities that might render that point moot.  Anyway, the story goes that Olga was still not interested in re-marrying.  But she didn’t have as much of a beef with the Byzantines--now and then Kiev fought with them, but it wasn’t personal-- and anyway they’d be much harder to kill.  So she got clever.

Olga welcomed the Emperor’s proposal, and asked that he first sponsor her conversion to Christianity—she asked him to be her godfather, in other words.  He was very pleased to do this, and personally took part in her baptism, calling her his daughter as part of the ceremony.  Then, he repeated his marriage proposal.  Here’s what happened next:

“[…] she replied, ‘How can you marry me, after yourself baptizing me and calling me your daughter? For among Christians that is unlawful, as you yourself must know.’ Then the Emperor said, ‘Olga, you have outwitted me.’ He gave her many gifts of gold, silver, silks, and various vases, and dismissed her, still calling her his daughter.”

Absolute legend Olga.

When she wasn’t killing Drevlians and outwitting Emperors, Olga was a capable administrator and warrior-queen, and she groomed her son well for the throne-- although his empire fractured on his untimely death.  She made an attempt to Christianize the Kievan Rus’, but that didn’t really go anywhere in her lifetime. My take?  Since her conversion was a political move (would have gotten the Byzantines off her back whether the marriage proposal story was true or not), she might not really have tried all that hard to get her subjects to convert.  Despite this, she bears the title Isapóstolos-- Equal to the Apostles.  Her grandson would later successfully Christianize Kievan Rus’, but only after he made an earnest attempt to reform Slavic paganism into something that could compete with Christianity.

Some people might read Saint Olga as a monster.  I would like to remind everyone that the 900’s AD were not happy nice funtimes.  And the moral of all this is, don’t murder a Varangian lady’s husband and ask her to marry you unless you’re really, really sure you’re prepared for the consequences.

#out of Voice #cut for length

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi Meat, p5 reaction

Meat Page 5.

We might be due another perspective switch - unless the plot stays with John until he's assembled all his friends.

When John goes to pick up Rose, it’ll probably be on LOLAR. Terezi might still be there, if she hasn’t gone clownhunting just yet.

If so, perhaps we’ll get to see whether Rose ‘n Terezi’s migraine was really due to the substance abuse + caleidoscopic colours of LOLAR + glitches… Or whether it was due to the GO timeline “supposed to” have gone differently, with John’s current retcon being the thing missing to happen. It takes a bit of effort, remembering what everyone was exactly up to on this part of the GO timeline and what would be a fortunate time for John to take it off the rails. For Kanaya, that might very well be the moment Jane set up her literal shop on LOFAF, selling her all those blood potions, for instance.

For Dirk, it might be before his conversation with Arquiusprite.

I'm getting the feeling that John might be jumping to exactly those moments in the scenes where the characters were at their lowest, self-esteem wise. Giving them a literal second breath. ;)

Not sure what we can expect from the ghost side of things though. I think they might not be duplicated, leading us to meet up with (Vriska) as we knew her, punk cut and all. Even though GO Terezi's ghost will be there with her too.

I'm half convinced Calliope will get copied somehow, but not entirely sure. The only 'real' duplicate Calliope had already, besides Alt Calliope, was her dreamself. He could snatch the body, but I was under the impression Caliborn consumed it in a literal sense to establish his dominance over the body.

Meanwhile, it occurred to me to that Andrew Hussie (the author avator) will make a comeback, probably a background cameo. I've only now realized that he's a literal ghost writer of his own story right now, in-canon. While outside of canon, he’s more becoming like Stan Lee, executive producing stories using characters he designed.

Anyway, let's start this up.

---

"The stands of the Cantown Memorial Arena" Okay, my first thought was this takes place on the meteor, but yeah, it's a building named presumably after the literal Cantown WV build in his station, back on Earth. Or the Exile Town that Bec Noir massacred. Though, does this indicate a perspective switch back to Roxy... Or is the CMA where Rumble in the Pumpkin Patch is recorded? Probably the latter, meaning the perspective is switching back to Dave! Uh, the alpha version, I guess I should call him? Post-canon, adult Dave?

"His shit eating was so brutal that no one, except maybe Jake, cares that he’s taking a phone call in the middle of a live broadcast." So, was it staged, or did Jake really get a power boost, coming into his role as the Page?

Also, I feel like if Karkat's run for president gets announced by Dave on live television, "and the crowd goes wild" will apply here.

"Dave takes a seat on the couch, right in Karkat’s butt groove." Okay, so he's not going just yet. ... Karkat's butt groove is available because the latter absconded the fuck out last we saw him, hahah.

"a piece of absolute garbage." Callback secured.

"DAVE: while the beatdown you just received was as thorough as it was humiliating im afraid as usual the solution to this problem should probably not involve your decapitation" While Dirk might be the one to keep this beaten dead horse of an in-joke going, Dave isn't going to be the one to cut its head off and end its misery. :P

"DAVE: jake just kicked your ass DAVE: thats really all there is to say on the matter" AWWWWW yessss, hahahahah. Dirk's laid down, on the ground, on his smartphone, just like Dave was after his beatdown by Bro. Awesome callback.

"DAVE: its really amazing how this meme we have going here continues to be exactly as funny as the day it was established DIRK: Isn’t it always though? DAVE: yeah" That's Strider Irony at its finest for you. You never can be entirely sure non-sincerity is what's taking place here.

" DAVE: how DID you get your ass kicked so bad DAVE: jake sucks and his raps are fucking awful" Oh, scratch that thing about his power level, then. ... The rapbots didn't join in to beat Dirk down, did they? ... Though I would like to see either them or their zilly versions again. :P

"

On the TV, Dirk makes an elegant hand sign that once might have represented solidarity with some ancient coastal rap group but now has been utterly divorced from its cultural context here on Earth C." Is it a sign associated with... the ICP? Yes, I guess whatever 'references' the kids make get picked up as divine decree...

"The camera pans away from him and over the crowd. It zooms in on a young crocodile wearing an oversized T-shirt with Jake’s highly marketable ass plastered over it and the phrase “Tally ho” written in big bubble letters." ... including stuff that was already dated when the gods were still actual kids. (By which I mean the phrase, not Jake's marketable ass.)

"DIRK: Holding back a little to achieve certain results doesn’t necessarily mean you’re participating in a farce or rigging the event. DIRK: We do this all the time. We hold back our thoughts, our true feelings, our full potential. We disguise how much we know about what and when, for many purposes. To ease relations, to let others behave naturally and make up their minds without undue intervention. To wait for the right moments to show our hands, to pick our battles. " Dirk is still overthinking things. :P He's also still a schemer, even though he's grown more mature. I think in this case, he might be trying to keep up Jake's taste for adventure and hone his skills? That might be related to the fact that he's one of the few in the know of what John is up to (also a thing he's withholding right now), and he might be trying to get Jake battle-ready in case he needs to be. ... In case he doesn't believe they'll stay irrelevant to the plot.

"DAVE: my dog you are full of some SHIT today arent you DIRK: Absolutely." It's a good thing Dave can see Dirk typing, otherwise I might have asked whether Dirk may have reinstated an autoresponder to answer when he's busy. :P

"DIRK: And when it comes to theater, there are just as many reasons for restraint. To build tension. To set the stage. To give the people someone to root against." Okay, that's actually kind of meta. Also, in-story, it might mean Dirk is deliberately trying to come off as weaker, to get people to boo at Jake so he can play hero?

"DAVE: i can see you on tv DAVE: theyre booing you dude" Okay, never mind.

"The excitable salamander manning the camera switches to a fish-eye lens for some unfathomable reason, giving the whole exchange an air of demented absurdity. Dirk’s sunglasses distort and stretch to dominate the entire screen." I'm all here for NPC races doing menial labor half-way competently. :P Also, I feel like there should be some sort of visual callback to that image of Dirk's sunglasses. Something to do with the black hole from Problem Sleuth expanding to suck the entire universe up, which was reflected in the Stiller shades, and the event in itself is being called back to now, in the Black Hole sucking up the Furthest Ring!

"JAKE: What about the agitated rabble? Theyre starting to throw things. DIRK: I don’t know. Do a dance or something. Sing a song. DIRK: They love anything you do. JAKE: Ummm. JAKE: Ok sounds stupid but ill try." Using Jake's charisma as crowd control? Dirk, you beautiful mastermind.

"Jake tips an imaginary hat toward center stage and begins doing the Charleston." Hah, right, this might be a callback to that other Page dancing old-time dances, hahah, Tavros after he assembled the ghost army.

"Just as Dirk predicted, the crowd immediately loses its shit, except for a single carapacian in the front row, who continues to glower at Dirk with an expression of absolute and total contempt." If Jack hadn't remained in the session, I would've designated this guy as his great-whatever-grandchild.

"DAVE: why do you want people to hate you so much DAVE: its fucked up DIRK: You’re reading way too much into it." I don't necessarily believe that.

"DIRK: If I wanted another round of embarrassingly indulgent and mutually masturbatory psychoanalysis, I would have called my daughter instead. DAVE: hm DAVE: do i need to point out how fucking weird what you just said was or can that start going without saying at this point" This. This is Homestuck. This entire exchange.

" DIRK: The point is, playing myself up as a villain figure in this hacky rap pageant has nothing to do with getting people to dislike me. Besides, everyone loves a good villain. When they boo, they don’t really mean it." That has me thinking of Thog, a villain from Order of the Stick, actually. But yeah, Caliborn, Condy and others were really good villains. Doesn't mean we didn't mean it when we cursed them, though.

"DIRK: I think you’d be surprised by how popular I actually am. DAVE: i dunno man" At some point, playing the villain stops being a role, if you're too thorough in antagonizing the crowd. Dirk may have gone overboard here - in his role in the pageant I mean, I don't think anyone loves their god any less. Just one more way to show that, victory state or not, their original issues still come into play and challenge them to grow.

"DIRK: The point is, this is much less about me, and more about providing a foil for Jake’s heroism and charisma. DIRK: It’s very important that his popularity continues to be cultivated, to maximize his political capital. DAVE: political capital" ... Oooooh! Thinking three steps ahead of everyone again, nice going Dirk! I think Dirk might even have foreseen Dave rallying Karkat to stand against Jane, but I wonder which side he'll be choosing!

" DAVE: what the fuck are... DAVE: ok how long have you known about the jane thing DAVE: i mean is this something you have been planning for like DAVE: a long time or DIRK: Planning is such an intense word." Oh, he's trying to pull the strings again, is he? What game is he playing then, what policies does he want to instate, if any? ... Is Dirk a supposed xenophone too, or just playing to the tune of the largest group of swing voters?

" DAVE: jane is a shitty candidate dude DAVE: shes going to be so shitty DIRK: I thought you’d feel that way." ... Pfff I just realized Dirk wasn't typing, since this was a phone call. He's saying this all out loud! Typing's the old way of conversation, we discarded it for the most part, everyone has their Gift of Gab now. Well, hopefully at least Dave's part isn't being recorded and broadcast.

"DIRK: I respectfully disagree. DAVE: i get shes a good friend of yours and all but even you have to admit how far up her own ass she is DIRK: Of course. I consider it to be among her best qualifications for the job." Dirk might just be thinking: a self-absorbed candidate won't notice being pulled around. Even though she's, you know, his dear friend and all, he's still planning on manipulating her. :/ Old habits and such.

"DAVE: christ DAVE: ok if nothing else have you at least taken into account the DEVASTATION to the economy this will cause???" Strider Irony(tm).

"DIRK: Dave, I think if you search your soul, you’ll come to the same conclusion I have. Jane is just what this planet needs. DIRK: We’ve all had our fun here, but it’s easy to overlook the fact that civilization on Earth C is hardly a sustainable proposition. DIRK: Just beneath the surface, it’s quite a dangerous and unstable place." Oh, cool, so Dirk was acting on the same things Dave noticed, just having drawn different conclusions. Guess there's more to playing god as a winner of Sburb than sitting on your butt all day long, huh?

"DAVE: i know that DAVE: which is why actually i think it would be cool to have a president that is good instead of bad DIRK: He’s not as great as you think. DAVE: what" See, I know Dirk'll say Karkat, but I kind of wish he'd say Obama. :P

"DAVE: who DAVE: obama?? DAVE: how dare you" XD PFFFFFffffhah, okay, should've seen that coming.

"DIRK: I’m happy for both of you, really. It’s nice that you encourage and support each other in this way. But you’re sending him on a fool’s errand which can only end badly." Like, I understand where Dirk's coming from, we know how unbalanced Karkat is at his worst. But Dirk's seems to be the conservatist route, while the current status quo is so unbalanced someone with at least a little liberal thinking should try changing policy, little by little. ... Okay now Homestuck has me doing political discourse. Hussieeeeeeee! ... Why am I now picturing a Homestuck AU about the climate change truant student marches of Europe?

"DAVE: wait DAVE: how do you even know hes entering the race DAVE: we like just decided this DIRK: A competent political operative has his ways. DIRK: Besides, it was always pretty obvious to me you’d react this way the moment the announcement was made." Okay, not ruling out entirely Dirk has something spying on Dave, but that would verge too much on what Bro would've done in his place. He probably just cold-mindedly assessed his potential response.

"DAVE: cause if youve already got jake on your side then i guess we might as well just fucking quit DIRK: I wouldn’t worry about that. DIRK: He and I don’t quite have the rapport we once did. DIRK: He’s “over me” and doesn’t spare opportunities to make ostentatious demonstration of this claim. DAVE: um DIRK: Basically he doesn’t like being told what to do. Especially not by me." Cool, okay, so... Jake is needy in his own way, in showing he can fend for himself, at least that's how Dirk sees it. Guess they still hang out a lot though, just no longer "like that". That must be a letdown for the shippers, but a boon for the people that felt betrayed at seeing Dirk & Jake back together in the Credits. I like that middle road, actually! And hey, the versions of Jake & Dirk in the New Game Plus timeline, or whatever we should call it, are still fair game!

"DIRK: So it’s fair to say as of now, he’s still fully in play. DIRK: Not that I should be encouraging you, really. DAVE: you are one doubletalking son of a bitch you know that DAVE: i cant tell if you dont want us to run or are reverse psychology mindfucking us into running" Very true, that. Why would he share the truth about Jake if he wants to win, unless he wants fair competition? Best not to dwell on it too long on this neverending stairway of hidden intentions, lest we fall down it.

" DAVE: not like i can just stand around and wait for president crocker to like DAVE: write fucking grammar laws into the constitution" Pfffff, yes, I had forgotten about Jane's grammar practices, hahah. Guess she has a good running mate in Dirk for that, at least, capitalization and everything in order when he's not rapping.

"DIRK: Sorry to cut this short, but diapers are starting to come down pretty hard right now, and some of them haven’t even had their babies removed. DAVE: what" what. I hope it's at least consort babies, they're arguably the most resilient, as semi-sapient animals.

"DIRK: That was a joke." Ah.

"Jake can’t help but watch the motion, raking his eyes over the muscles shifting beneath the skin of Dirk’s neck and arms.

There is something implacably magnificent about Dirk Strider, Jake thinks, untamed like a wild game beast of incredible size and strength." ... Well then! I didn't think the narration would offer us this view from the perspective of Jake, thought it would be reseverd for John! Not entirely sure how I feel about the privilege of seeing Jake pine for Dirk, though. :P At least it clarifies where the allure is in it, for him. It's an extension of his taste for adventure and his upbringing on an island full of terribly powerful beasts.

"Of course, their history together is never far from Jake’s mind, however many years it’s been since their last tussle of an amorous nature. The old dramas and triumphs in the days of Sburb. Dirk’s companionship has been taxing to the heart, to say the least, and yet he’s taught Jake so much—about combat, philosophy, life, love." Okay, that is just such a Jake thing to phrase it like this. I'm glad we get to see he's not so oblivious or un-elloquent in his mind as he presents himself to the outside world, consciously or not.

"But sometimes, despite their checkered and problematic past, Jakes wishes that he could seize Dirk by the proverbial horns and wrest him bodily into becoming a much more agreeable fellow." Heheh, so Jake actually would like to impose on Dirk some manners. At least with him it stays with desires, while Dirk really did try to impose on Jake when they were together.

"DIRK: How about you kick off the next round? DIRK: I bet this crowd will settle its shit right down the moment you drop the latest rhymes you’ve been tinkering with." This is going to be painful to read, isn't it? ... If we're going to read them at all. ... I swear, this might just lead into them having "the xest rapoff in the history of Earth C".

"Jake’s face lights up. He composes himself, adjusting a bow tie, although he is not wearing one, and making a vague gesture like he’s twirling one end of that mustache Dirk has not yet let him grow. Dirk lets him go with a gentle smile, like the sort you’d give to a dog for performing a trick adequately. Jake responds to the signal like an Olympic athlete hearing the starter pistol. He was born for this." All the best and worst aspects of Dirk & Jake as a couple are basically summarized here. I mean, Dirk is not even WITH Jake and vetoes some of his choices. Then again, Jake really does have TERRIBLE (but hilarious) taste in mannerisms.

"JAKE: Tally ho its me, jake mcgee! JAKE: Popping my pistols off, two shots and a kiss JAKE: My aim is tops, i never miss" ... I'm not disappointed, this really IS almost physically painful to read, as expected.

... Okay that was actually a very amazing rap. Well thought out, good use of the vocabulary, dated though it is. I liked "jake-eng's" and "jape-slings" in particular, especially since that was what Vriska dismissed him as, a joke, a jape.

"The crowd, as Dirk rightly predicted, has settled its shit right down. This is not due to any accidental brilliance on the part of Jake English, but rather due to an abashed but loyal brand of pity, the kind a devoted fan cannot help but feel when they see a beloved celebrity make an ass out of themselves during a live broadcast they have waited two and a half years in line to buy a ticket for." I think this might be Dirk's POV. Not everyone's tastes in rap are as dignified as his, after all. :P Consorts in particular might love this. Then again, we saw John embarass carapacians not too long ago, they're not immune to pitying people. But hey, on the brightside, maybe some of the audience <>'s Jake now. :P

"Dirk’s phone begins going off again." Unless it's something more ominous, this is probably Dave having the last quip.

"With a casual flick of his wrist, Dirk snaps out a bright red tranquilizer handgun and shoots Jake in the neck. Jake’s glasses crack when he hits the mat. A chorus of boos rises up from the crowd like groundwater. Dirk artfully dodges a bucket of obscene troll fluid to field yet another very important personal call." ... Did Dirk actually use a Crockertech tranquilizer on his co-god? What the hell, Dirk? Guess all is fair in the ring.

And I suppose it's not Dave then that is calling him this time, if he takes such drastic measures.

"DIRK: Yo Rose, what's up?" Oooh, if we get to see this, that would be early we get to see Rose again! Dirk and Rose'll probably be planning their next move now that John has left. (Which I take Rose to already know about, through her Seer powers, or a call with Roxy.) ... Maybe some of their plans only could have worked IF John left, if they wanted to regain some measure of relevance through them.

#homestuck #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert #dirk strider #dave strider #jake english

[giancarlonicoli]

Blain's Morning Porridge, submitted by Bill Blain

“It doesn’t matter if you are a bullying billionaire or a penniless troll, such behaviour is destructive..”

Lots to look forward to this week. A “Goldilocks” economic picture in the US?  Strong job creation and strong stocks – what’s to worry about?  Not so rosy in Europe – the bets are mounting the dismal continent is heading into Japanification. China is all about Trade war.  Who knows anymore?  The latest Chinese numbers show both sides are hurting with China exports down 23% to the US, and importing less.  What has Donald’s trade spat achieved?  Not much apparently.

Here in the UK, on Thursday we get to vote for the least bad alternative.  It’s a sad state of affairs the leadership-vacuumed Labour party has self-destructed ahead of what should have been the easiest electoral victory in decades.  After 10-years of Austerity, Policy Mistakes, Weak Leadership, and Shenanigans, the best of the bad choices before us is to give the Tories yet another go.

Talk this week will all be about tactical voting to keep the Tories out.  Why?  The chances of any other party getting a majority to achieve strong government other than the Tories are zero.  The best that remainers can hope for is a hung parliament that will plunge the UK back into a political Brexit cul-de-sac, extend economic uncertainty, and plunge sterling back into the Peso bucket.  

All that to look forward to, but its nearly Christmas – and my lunch calendar is looking good.

Meanwhile… SELL TESLA

I experienced another bout of train misery this morning.  Again, no functional table to work my computer from – quite funny really… I can’t get the tiny little table down against my Santa Claus belly!  All I want for Christmas is the head of the RMT, Mick Cash’s head on a Spike – which is hopefully one of the many Christmas presents Boris will deliver us..  I have used that line: “head on spike” deliberately to illustrate a point.

No one really thinks I am seriously contemplating decapitation of the RMT Union Boss.. and I’m sure readers will agree it’s a stupid, unwise thing to put on the digital record.  I can probably wriggle out of making such a stupid comment by expressing great regret, and explaining it was my great frustration and dissatisfaction with the current rail strike that made me write such a stupid thing. I would beg forgiveness and get away with a mild censure in the current febrile environment. My comment was hyperbole.

However, if I was to state the Head of The Rail Union was a wifebeater, a fraudster, or a child molester – none of which is true – then I would be guilty of a grievous untruth which would greatly damage his reputation and credibility.  If I wrote such a thing with zero evidence to support it – then I would be guilty of the most heinous libel.

Let me assure Mick Cash of the RMT, I don’t really want his head, and I’m sure he’s not the monster all we SWR commuters believe him to be. (But, he is utterly wrong in mounting the strike – but his mistake will work against him. Whatever sympathy anyone had for the train drivers has evaporated.)

There is a great line in the Lion King – “Life is not fair”, as the evil uncle Scar toys with his lunch, a mouse. If you make any of kind of mistake in business, the cost is likely to be high. Just ask Carlos Ghosn how much he is enjoying Japanese hospitality now. This year we’ve seen a host of senior executives punished for errors of judgement, like sleeping with employees.  Steve Easterbrook, head of McDonalds, was sacked for hiding a relationship with an employee.  Mark Wiseman lost his senior position at Blackrock after a consensual affair with another staff member.  While Ghosn may be the victim of a Japan Inc plot, the other two are example of bad decisions by business leaders – and in today’s world business judgement is everything.

The world is a very sensitive place. The merest hint of sexual impropriety is career-ending (just ask BlackRock's Mark Wiseman).  It raises immediate questions about judgement and suitability.  Sensitivity has become a watchword – while everyone will shake their heads in disbelief at a hospital branding a cancer patient transphobic because she requested a lady doctor who was born female (it transpired she had been was a victim of child molestation), smart businessman will do whatever they can to appear balanced and considered, and show their awareness of such sensitivity.

Every investment firm on the planet now claims to have put ESG – Environmental, Social and Governance – principals at the forefront of their investment methodology and criteria.

So how many have demanded the removal of Elon Musk, or threatened to sell their stock unless he demonstrates maturity and awareness of his manifest wrongs?  

Apparently the same rules don’t apply to the likes of Musk. Don’t tell me he was found innocent in court last week and therefore has no case to answer. Yes… he does. Its not just his harassment and defamation of the British cave diver and rescuer Vernon Unsworth that is cause – there is a change in the way we need to look at Unicorns.

I don’t want to hold an investment in a firm run by someone like Elon Musk. The next 10-years are not going to be about Unicorn Hype - it will be back to fundamentals.

I can’t think of any deliberate lie more calculated to destroy a man’s reputation than to brand him a child rapist and child molester – a paedophile. (I have checked with a number of South African friends, and none of them said Paedo meant a “creepy old man”. It means what it says and is a vile insult when applied with the kind of malice Musk employed.)

I was shocked when Musk walked away from court on Friday – declared innocent.  Its apparently fine for a US billionaire to call another man a paedophile, brand him a child rapist, hire investigators to dig dirt on the victim, and then declare his guilt was proven because he didn’t immediately sue.  I watched the case last week, held off commenting, but after watching Must declare “faith in humanity was restored” I can’t resist. I don’t give a toss if he is a visionary, a great engineer, or whatever baloney he claims. In my opinion, such a man is not fit to run a major firm and is not deserving of our respect.

Musk is a product of our age. Entitled, arrogant, unbelievably rich and powerful, he reckons normal rules don’t apply to him. He’s a bit like that other serial sociopath Adam Neumann of WeWork – and we know how well that ended.  

He sends a clear message it’s fine for marginally socialised billionaires to act above the law. It's ok for Musk to tweet untruths not just about a brave British spelunker, but also to mislead the market with tweets about taking his company private, about the number of cars being produced, and in a spectacularly unfunny April Fool’s joke, that the company was bankrupt. He and the company were fined US$40mm and he joked about it.

That is not a man you want to invest your pension in.

I just know I will get a storm of abuse for this, but the trial last week puts another nail in the American concept of justice. One of the jurors, who it turns out owns not one but two Teslas according the Sunday Times, says there was no proof Musk’s tweets about the guy being a paedophile referred to the British Caver. That is a nonsense.  Musk got away with about the most malicious insult possible.  Rich justice.

Mark Johnson, former head of FX at HSBC is likely to be sent across the Pond to serve jail time in the US after a series of complex transactions were done for Cairn a few years ago.  It’s difficult to perceive exactly what wrong Johnson is accused of – certainly he did nothing criminal that merited investigation in the UK. It looks a very dubious case that seems to have forced through purely so the US Department of Justice can show it flexing its muscles. Or the case of the Libor fixers – a crime the Americans regard as the ultimate martet manipulation is nothing of the sort – back in the old days the Governor of the Bank of England wasn’t above suggesting a high or low rate might be helpful..

The American’s have got this badly wrong. I read this morning Musk may face a re-trial. Somehow, I doubt it.  

[adambstingus]

‘Columbine destroyed my entire career’: Marilyn Manson on the perils of being the lord of darkness

He has been called an emissary of Satan and falsely blamed for one of the most notorious shootings in US history. But the singer has never been afraid of outrage. Is that really an excuse, though, to flick our interviewers testicles?

It is while discussing the difference between his stage persona and his day-to-day life that Marilyn Manson leans over and flicks me in the testicles. This comes as quite a surprise: I have encountered a lot of unusual things as a journalist, but have thus far managed to get by without an interviewee touching my genitals. More surprising still is that leaning over and flicking my testicles appears to form part of his answer to a question about whether he has ever felt consumed by the character he created a quarter of a century ago, in the same way that Bowie struggled to separate himself from Ziggy Stardust or the Thin White Duke. Certainly, the way he says: “That’s the difference!” immediately afterwards suggests it is, but I’m not sure.

For one thing, I am distracted by my sore testicles, and, for another, I wasn’t really following his line of argument at the time. First, he took my notepad, wrote “person” on it and added an “a” at the end. “I’m this and I’m this,” he said. “A person and a persona. But I can’t really divide the two. There’s a difference on the stage; people I don’t know I just seduce, in a lot of ways. You go offstage and people … even me and you now, talking …”

His voice trailed off and, while I was trying to work out whether he had just said that he did inhabit a different persona on stage he flicked me in the testicles.

It’s all a bit peculiar, but then the interview has been peculiar from the minute I stepped into the Berlin hotel suite where Manson is receiving the press. He is midway through a European festival tour and promoting his forthcoming eighth album, Heaven Upside Down, a work he describes as “hard, punk rock, Killing Joke, Joy Division, Bauhaus, Scary Monsters”, and which reunites him with Tyler Bates, a guitarist, producer and soundtrack composer best known for his work on Guardians of the Galaxy. Manson seems surprised that Bates agreed to work with him again after 2015’s The Pale Emperor, or rather its ensuing tour, during which relations between the two deteriorated to such an extent that Manson pulled a box-cutter knife on Bates.

Heaven Upside Down was announced the day before the US presidential election, in typically understated Marilyn Manson style, with a short video that was widely reported as showing the singer decapitating Donald Trump. “Well, there was no actual decapitation shown,” he demurs. “It was implied. And no Trump. There was just a guy in a red tie. Could have been a preacher. It’s funny that people see what they want to see.”

Marilyn Manson on stage in 1997. Photograph: Rob Bartholomew/Associated Press

I have been warned that, as per Manson’s usual requirements for meeting journalists, the room will be both dark and cold, which it certainly is: air conditioning up full, curtains drawn against the afternoon sun, the only light coming from a television tuned to one of those ambient channels that broadcasts endless footage of landscapes and animals. But I have not been warned that Manson will be hiding behind his hotel room door, from where he will jump out – black-clad, in full slap – pointing a gun at the back of my neck. Not, it transpires, a real gun, but a realistic enough replica for me to greet him with a startled bark of, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” rather than the more traditional “hello”. Manson laughs, shakes my hand and asks if I’d like a beer.

Thus begins an extremely diverting hour during which Manson will offer to wrestle me to demonstrate his physical and mental wellbeing; inquire, in the middle of discussing the difficulty of meeting your childhood idols and, apropos of nothing as far as I can gather, whether I am “a poop man, a scat guy”; suggest his partner, photographer and model Lindsay Usich – who wanders into the room in search of a drink – expose herself to me on the grounds that “the Guardian is an important periodical”; and flick me in the testicles.

It is difficult to work out whether all of this is done in a kind of spirit of collaboration – perhaps he is keen to ensure a journalist goes home with an incident-packed story, the better to promote the new album – or simply because Manson has, entirely understandably, chosen to enliven a long day of interviews with the European media by having a few drinks along the way. Certainly, something about his speech and gait strongly suggests the tumbler of neat vodka in his hand may not be his first of the day.

If it’s the former, then he really needn’t have bothered. Manson is a fascinating man even without the accompanying theatrics. Over the course of my time with him, he is variously funny, insightful, frank and preposterously self-mythologising: “I wake up in the morning and I just realise that I am chaos. That’s my job – I am a goddamn tornado,” he announces at one juncture. “You look at it, behold it, you get caught up in it, it tears off your roof – and I’m from Ohio, so I know about tornadoes”.

He is also, on occasion, wildly contradictory and incomprehensible, his answers veering so wildly off-road that I have no idea what he is talking about. Indeed, after one particularly unfathomable response, I find myself asking him if he’s OK. “I don’t know – check my pulse,” he laughs, but it’s a genuine query. His father, a Vietnam veteran, died days before this tour began. They were close – his dad would come on tour with him and the pair posed together for an amazing Paper magazine shoot, both in full Marilyn Manson drag. No one would have blamed him for cancelling his shows and promotional schedule to grieve. He looks aghast at the idea. “My dad would have hated me for that. He’d have kicked me in the dick. He would want me to be the best I could be right now. That’s what he raised me to be. Dad was a fucking fighter, a killer in Vietnam, but he was not a quitter; he just didn’t want to be here any more. He didn’t give up, he just wanted to be with my mom, and I respected him for that. So I wouldn’t miss a gig. It was not easy – I had to go see him a week before we went on tour. It was tough, but it made me stronger.”

Besides, he is bullishly proud of his new album, which he says “is about confidence, of fucking believing in yourself more than ever, which is something I may have lost along the road”. He is also theatrically furious at his record label for suggesting he put out a censored version for sale in the US’s Walmart stores. “It denies the legitimacy of it. If your parents give you money to buy a clean version of my record at Walmart, you might as well go there, buy a gun instead, take it into your own hands, do whatever you want.”

Listening to him talk, it’s tempting to wonder if he hankers after the era when he was American rock’s public enemy No 1, the primary source of outrage for conservative watchdog organisations. It’s easy to forget how much controversy Manson managed to cause in the late 90s, when his name was linked to the 1999 massacre at Columbine high school in Colorado, whose perpetrators were alleged – erroneously as it turned out – to have been fans.

He warms to his previous point. “Give them the money and let them make their own choice: guns or records. If [the Columbine killers] had just bought my records, they would be better off. Certain people blame me for the shootings at schools – I think my numbers are low, and hopefully they go up on this record.” It’s unclear whether he means numbers of shootings or people blaming him, but it’s provocation either way. “That’s going to be a great pull-quote for you. But, honestly, the Columbine era destroyed my entire career at the time.”

He was raising hackles long before Columbine, though. In Britain, his 1996 breakthrough album Antichrist Superstar was largely viewed as hugely entertaining glam metal in the grand gothic tradition of Alice Cooper. In the US, however, religious conservatives seemed to think he really was some kind of emissary of Satan. A succession of demented sworn testimonies on the American Family Association’s website claimed his concerts involved bestiality, satanic altars, ritual rapes and the distribution of free drugs. Some towns threatened to pass legislation banning him from performing on state property; schools in Florida threatened to expel students who attended his shows; the state of South Carolina ended up giving him money – $40,000 – not to play there.

“Well, I asked for it,” he nods. “You don’t make a record called Antichrist Superstar and not expect people to hate you. But I wanted to do something that made a difference. I wanted to put a fucking dent in the world, like my heroes: [Salvador] Dalí, Jim Morrison. I knew that there were people who would take it at face value, and that there were people who would see into it more deeply, and it would be that dichotomy that would cause chaos.”

After Columbine, the chaos ratcheted up even more. His concerts weren’t just being protested or picketed: during the 2001 Ozzfest tour, he says, he received daily death threats; “hundreds” when he played in Colorado. “I would just get on stage and smash beer bottles and cut myself and go, ‘Fuck you, bring it,’ – I’ve got scars all over my chest – I can show you. I would jump into the crowd and punch people. It wasn’t even those people who were at fault. But my dad gave me the best advice: ‘If people are going to kill you, son, they wouldn’t tell you in advance.’ No, I don’t miss that at all. It made everyone around me upset. And I discovered that police bomb dogs are also drug dogs. So when there were bomb threats, I had a very difficult time hiding my narcotics.”

It didn’t destroy his career as he claims – he still fills arenas around the world and has parlayed his notoriety into an acting career in the US TV series Salem and Sons of Anarchy, playing “a murdering barber and a paedophile white supremacist. Typecast.”

Performing in Argentina last year. Photograph: Santiago Bluguermann/CON/LatinContent/Getty Images

He has also found his fanbase extending into some unlikely places, not least the world of hip-hop. Gucci Mane and Rick Ross are fans; Lil Uzi Vert wears a diamond-encrusted pendant of Manson’s face. “I don’t know why rappers like me, other than what Gucci Mane told me,” he says. “He said I was ‘the only shit that’s real in rock’n’roll’. Rappers are hardcore and they’re real; rock’n’roll is so pussy and so lame. But I’m not saying I’m the realest thing in the world.” He sighs. “People say: ‘You’re the last rock star.’ Don’t say that to me – shut the fuck up, man! I don’t need that shit on my shoulders. But I’ll take it. I’ll own it.”

Perhaps they mean you’re the last rock star who could create the kind of controversy you created in the 90s? It’s hard to imagine anyone being shocked by a rock band now, in a world when you can see anything, no matter how gruesome or offensive, with a click of a mouse.

He nods. “I know. Fair enough. You just have to say what you’re saying with certainty, and look good when you’re saying it – that’s how you do your job.”

But if times have changed, he says he has changed, too. He used to be “angry, confused and upset”, he says. “Now, I think I feel more happy. Not like, Shiny Happy People. I think I’m just happy being myself. I think now, I’m much more charming and likable. I notice you’re enjoying yourself.”

Well, I am. He’s hugely entertaining company.

“And I’m sure in a moment you’ll take your pants off and I’ll smash you in the nuts with a beer bottle.”

No, I say, you’re OK. So instead, Manson opts for taking a selfie of us, showing me his ringtone (it’s Hot Love by T Rex), shaking my hand and asking me to write nice things about him. Of course, I say. “Good,” he smiles, ushering me out into the corridor. “Or I’ll find out where you fucking live.”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/columbine-destroyed-my-entire-career-marilyn-manson-on-the-perils-of-being-the-lord-of-darkness/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/182571050402

[sixwivesoneking]

February 13, 1542: Katherine Howard and Jane Boleyn are Executed

On February 13th, in 1542, at a little after 7 o’clock in the morning, Katherine Howard and Jane Boleyn were executed.   When the long night of waiting for their executions finally turned to day, both Katherine and Jane began to prepare themselves to face the world for the last time and their imminent execution in their separate chambers, which were comfortable enough, but in no way comforting.  It is doubtful that either woman got any sleep the night before.  Both women began to don the clothing that they had painstakingly picked out for their executions.  One can only imagine the thoughts that were passing through their minds, but Jane was probably recalling the executions of her husband and sister-in-law less than six years before; Katherine probably thought of it too, and perhaps she thought of Culpeper.  Both women knew what to expect, they both came from families that had an intimate knowledge of death by decapitation for treason.  And they both knew how to die well, how to die honorably, how to hide the terror they no doubt felt, and how to accept their fate as tradition demanded, in a gruesome ritual that required the victims to willingly go to their deaths, without a fight or some other “unseemly” spectacle.  

The four ladies that had accompanied Katherine to the Tower helped her get ready.  Her nightgown was removed and replaced with a silk chemise, silk stockings and shoes were put on her tiny feet, and then her underskirts were put on, in order to give her gown the fashionable shape that she liked, followed by a velvet kirtle*, a velvet gown, separate embroidered sleeves, a French hood with gold edging, with leather gloves and a mantle* finishing her ensemble.  The mantle was to protect her from the cold and frost of the early February morning, since the Tower Green was located outside, with little-to-no protection from the elements.  Jane was also assisted in getting dressed, since as the daughter of Lord Morley, she would expect nothing less, and even though she was a convicted traitor, she was still a Viscountess and could not be treated as an ordinary prisoner.  Her black damask nightgown was removed, a chemise was slipped over her head, followed by a kirtle, then plain stockings and leather shoes were put on her feet.  Then she was dressed in a black velvet gown, which was what she had normally worn as a lady of the bedchamber, followed by leather gloves.  She likely would have been wrapped in a mantle as well.   Sir John Gage, the Constable of the Tower*, was also very busy that morning, since the execution of a Queen was not an everyday occurrence, and there could be no mistakes made.  Because it was so important that everything went smoothly, Gage decided that he could not leave the preparations solely to Sir Edmund Walsingham, who would normally have been in charge of the execution preparations.  But Gage and Walsingham were fortunate in the fact that they had the precedent of Queen Anne Boleyn’s execution to follow, so there was no need for constant communication with the Council.  It also helped that Walsingham had been lieutenant of the Tower at the time of Queen Anne’s execution.  The men made sure that the scaffold was properly prepared; it was about three or four feet high, draped in black, and covered with straw to soak up the two women’s life-blood.  Upon it rested the block, which Katherine had used the night before to practice how to position herself on it gracefully.  The headsman had arrived, with his axe; there would be no expert Calais swordsmen for the two condemned women as there had been for Queen Anne.  The Tower guards were prepared; all that needed to be done was for the King’s councilors and the small group of Londoners who were to watch the administering of the King’s justice, to arrive, since the executions could not take place without an audience. The councilors had spent the night before the executions at Westminster, and when it began to get light out, they boarded the barges that were to take them along the Thames to the Tower, which was about 2 ½ miles downriver.  The Duke of Suffolk was not present, since, according to Chapuys, he was ill.  The Duke of Norfolk was also not present, although the reason why is not known.  Perhaps he was ill too, or pretending to be, so that he did not have to watch yet another niece be executed, perhaps watching Katherine’s execution would have been too difficult, even for him, or perhaps he just wanted to distance himself from the whole sordid affair.  But both Norfolk and Suffolk were well enough to attend a council session the next day.  As for the other councilors, they had no choice but to attend; although for some, like Sir Richard Rich, overseeing the administration of the King’s justice was simply a job to be done, with little feeling.  For others, like Sir John Russell, with whom Jane had stayed for a brief time while she was recovering her sanity, the next few hours would be extremely difficult to witness.  Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey, was also present, and it is possible that the executions were difficult for him as well, since Katherine was his cousin. Once the Council and “various lords and gentlemen” arrived at the Tower, the executions could proceed.  And while the remaining official’s identities are unknown, they would have all been at least acquainted with Queen Katherine and Lady Rochford.  And they all no doubt hoped that what they were about to witness would be over quickly.  Gage led the men from their barges, through a security cordon, and to the stands that had been erected next to the scaffold, likely the same wooden stands that had been used for Queen Anne's execution.  Around the same time the officials arrived by barge, a group of select Londoners walked to the Tower, where they arrived at the western gate, which, while normally guarded, was open so that witnesses could enter the Tower precincts via the Bulwark Gate, which crossed the wide, deep moat.  But the group still had to pass through three more security gates and pass the Bloody Tower before they entered the Inner Ward.  From there, they saw the huge, square walls of the White Tower to their right, and the Beauchamp Tower on their left.  They walked along the west side of the White Tower, turned the corner, and saw it: their destination, the scaffold that would soon be soaked with the blood of a young Queen and one of her ladies.  Allegedly, even more people had come to witness Katherine and Jane’s executions than had for Anne Boleyn’s, probably about 7 to 8,000 people, but that is likely not true.  Probably less than 1,000 people were to witness these executions.   Now it was time for Gage to fetch the first of the prisoners, Katherine, who would die first due to her higher rank.  Gage headed to the Queen’s lodgings, which were located to the southeast of the White Tower and a few hundred yards away from the scaffold.  He entered the palace area through Cole Harbor gate and climbed the stairs to Katherine’s rooms, where he respectfully knocked on the door before entering.  Katherine was ready and waiting for him, wrapped in her mantle against the cold.  She quietly followed him out the door and down the stairs, followed by her ladies, walked through the gate and around the White Tower, to where the scaffold waited for her.  That short walk to the scaffold must have seemed to take a lifetime, and yet, at the same time, no time at all.  Katherine looked at the assembled group of witnesses, and steadily climbed the stairs, although it should be noted that some sources  say that Katherine was so weak with fear that she needed assistance climbing the stairs and could hardly speak because of her terror.  I am inclined to be skeptical of Weir’s claim, since Ottwell Johnson’s eyewitness account says nothing of the sort and he mentions Katherine’s bravery.  Before Katherine made her final speech, her executioner knelt before her and asked her forgiveness for what he was about to do, which she gave him with her payment, and then she knelt in prayer.  Once she had prayed, she stood and, in a clear voice, addressed the crowd that had gathered to watch the executions.   An eyewitness named Ottwell Johnson, who was a merchant, recorded the following in a letter he wrote on the 15th to his brother about the executions: “And for the news from hence; know ye, that, even according to my writing on Sunday last, I see the Queen and the lady Retcheford [Rochford] suffer within the Tower, the day following; whose souls (I doubt not) be with God, for they made the most godly and Christians’ end that ever was heard tell of (I think) since the world’s creation, uttering their lively faith in the blood of Christ only, with wonderful patience and constancy to the death, and, with goodly words and steadfast countenance, they desired all Christian people to take regard unto their worthy and just punishment with death, for their offences against God heinously from their youth upward, in breaking of all his commandments, and also against the King’s royal Majesty very dangerously; wherefore they, being justly condemned (as they said) by the Laws of the realm and Parliament, to die, required the people (I say) to take example at them for amendment of their ungodly lives, and gladly obey the King in all things, for whose preservation they did heartily pray, and willed all people to do so, commending their souls to God and earnestly calling for mercy upon Him, whom I beseech to give us grace with such faith, hope, and charity, at out departing out of this miserable world, to come to the fruition of his Godhead in joy everlasting.  Amen.” Marillac, the French Ambassador, gives a much different account of Katherine’s actions at her execution, and he states that the execution took place closer to 9a.m., but since he was not actually present, it is very unlikely that there is any truth in his words.  He said that “The Queen was so weak that she could hardly speak, but confessed in few words that she had merited a hundred deaths for so offending the King who had so graciously treated her.” The Spanish Chronicle also gives yet another contradictory report on the events of the execution, but since that was the Tudor equivalent of the tabloid, it is highly unlikely that it is true.  Although it is rather romantic what they have Katherine’s final words being: “I die a Queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpeper.” Once a pale, but composed Katherine had finished speaking, her ladies stepped forward to remove her mantle and place a linen cap on her head.  Then a blindfold was placed over her eyes and she gracefully knelt down at the block, a movement that she had carefully rehearsed the previous night, laid her head on the block, and waited for the executioner to strike.  He did so swiftly, and her head was removed with a single blow.  One witness report says that the young, teenage girl, who must have been terrified beyond belief, “died well”.  The executioner then picked up Katherine’s head and displayed it to the crowd, to show what befell traitors to the King. Now it was time for Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford’s, turn to be executed for committing high treason by helping Katherine allegedly commit adultery.  Before she was brought out, the scaffold was washed down with some water and covered with fresh straw, so that Jane would not slip on the blood.  Gage then walked back to the royal apartments to fetch Jane, who was most likely lodged in the King’s or Queen’s apartments, due to the shortage of suitable accommodations for the sudden influx of illustrious prisoners, mostly ones who had been caught up in the Katherine/Culpeper affair.  Jane had not been able to see the execution from her chambers, but she must have heard the spectator’s cries and gasps when Katherine’s head was cut off and held up.  Undoubtedly, the wait for Gage to come fetch her, while in reality only took a few moments, must have seemed like forever.  Gage knocked on Jane’s door, brought her out, led her down the stairs, and past the White Tower to where her fate waited.  Gage treated her with civility and compassion while he escorted her, and by the time they reached the scaffold, there was very little evidence of what had just occurred.  Katherine’s head had been carefully wrapped in a white cloth, and her body had been lain in a black cloak, before her bloody remains where carried to the chapel.  Jane then calmly climbed up onto the scaffold, forgave the executioner, and turned to face the crowd, which would have contained several faces that she knew.  According to Chapuys: “Then Lady Rochford was brought, who had shown symptoms of madness till they told her she must die.  Neither she nor the Queen spoke much on the scaffold; they only confessed their guilt and prayed for the King’s welfare.”   But Marillac reported that, “The lady of Rochefort said as much in a long discourse of several faults which she had committed in her life.” Ottwell Johnson wrote of how Jane faced her death with composure, bravery, and dignity. Julia Fox , writes of how there is no transcript of Jane Boleyn’s speech, but says that Johnson record’s give us enough information to reconstruct it. According to Fox, Jane said the following: “She began by declaring her complete faith and trust in God. ‘I have,’ she said, ‘committed many sins against God from my youth upwards and have offended the king’s royal Majesty very dangerously, so my punishment is just and deserved. I am justly condemned by the laws of this realm and by Parliament. All of you who watch me die should learn from my example and change your own lives. You must gladly obey the king in all things, for he us a just and godly prince. I pray for his preservation and beseech you all to do the same. I now entrust my soul to God and pray for his mercy.’” But Jane, Lady Rochford, never once confessed to giving false testimony against her sister-in-law, Queen Anne Boleyn, or her husband, George Boleyn, Lord Rochford, nor did she speak of the offenses for which she was being executed.  The eyewitness accounts of Chapuys and Ottwell Johnson do not mention any such confession, and you can be sure that that would not be something they would have left out.  The source behind the myth that Jane made these confessions is most likely Gregorio Leti, a man who was famous for making up stories and inventing false sources to support his stories. Once Jane had made her short, final speech, she removed her cloak, had her hair bound up out of the way, prayed, was blindfolded, and then she knelt and placed her head on the blood-soaked block that had held Katherine’s head moments before, and her head was taken off with one swift blow of the axe.  Both women made good and dignified ends.   After the Executions Once both women had been executed, the spectators dispersed; they had acted as witnesses and seen the King’s justice performed.  Gage and Walsingham were left to supervise the cleaning up. They had the scaffold washed down again, and then dismantled.  They made sure that the executioner was given his fee and the victim’s outer clothes as payment, then sent him on his way.  The guards were dismissed to their quarters. After Katherine and Jane’s executions, their bodies were stripped and wrapped in cere-cloth, then their bodies and heads were buried in the chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula, which was located within the Tower.  Katherine was laid to rest next to her cousin, Anne Boleyn, as was Jane, who was finally reunited with her husband, George Boleyn.  And ordinary life resumed for everyone but the dead: a young Queen who, while guilty of making mistakes and loving the wrong person, did not deserve death, and her older, more experienced lady-in-waiting, whose legacy would be one of jealousy, foolishness, shrewish behavior, complicity in the murder of her husband and sister-in-law, and as “that bawd, the Lady Rochford.”  Neither deserved to die, and Jane’s legacy is one that is completely undeserved, at least according to Julia Fox , whose book, Jane Boleyn: The True Story of the Infamous Lady Rochford, is one that I highly recommend reading. *Kirtle – A long gown or dress worn by women. *Mantle –A loose, sleeveless garment worn over other clothes; a cloak or cape. *Constable of the Tower – Gage’s offices of constable were more of an honorary position rather than one of carrying out every day responsibilities.  Those were the job of the lieutenant, Sir Edmund Walsingham.  At Queen Anne’s execution, however, Kingston, the then constable, was very much involved, so it is likely that Gage was with Katherine and Jane’s executions.

#Katherine Howard #queen katherine howard #jane boleyn #Lady Rochford #tower of london #the tudors #Tudor History #Six wives of Henry VIII #queen anne boleyn #anne boleyn #henry viii #George Boleyn #Duke of Norfolk #duke of suffolk