#UN Staff System College

[warningsine]

Bangladeshi student protesters stormed a prison and freed hundreds of inmates Friday as police struggled to quell unrest, with huge rallies in the capital Dhaka despite a police ban on public gatherings.

This week's clashes have killed at least 105 people, according to an AFP count of victims reported by hospitals, and emerged as a momentous challenge to Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina's autocratic government after 15 years in office.

Student protesters stormed a jail in the central Bangladeshi district of Narsingdi and freed the inmates before setting the facility on fire, a police officer told AFP on condition of anonymity.

"I don't know the number of inmates, but it would be in the hundreds," he added.

Dhaka's police force took the drastic step of banning all public gatherings for the day -- a first since protests began -- in an effort to forestall another day of violence.

"We've banned all rallies, processions and public gatherings in Dhaka today," police chief Habibur Rahman told AFP, adding the move was necessary to ensure "public safety".

That did not stop another round of confrontations between police and protesters around the sprawling megacity of 20 million people, despite an internet shutdown aimed at frustrating the organisation of rallies.

"Our protest will continue," Sarwar Tushar, who joined a march in the capital and sustained minor injuries when it was violently dispersed by police, told AFP.

"We want the immediate resignation of Sheikh Hasina. The government is responsible for the killings."

'Shocking and unacceptable'

At least 52 people were killed in the capital on Friday, according to a list drawn up by the Dhaka Medical College Hospital and seen by AFP.

Police fire was the cause of more than half of the deaths reported so far this week, based on descriptions given to AFP by hospital staff.

UN human rights chief Volker Turk said the attacks on student protesters were "shocking and unacceptable".

"There must be impartial, prompt and exhaustive investigations into these attacks, and those responsible held to account," he said in a statement.

The capital's police force earlier said protesters had on Thursday torched, vandalised and carried out "destructive activities" on numerous police and government offices.

Among them was the Dhaka headquarters of state broadcaster Bangladesh Television, which remains offline after hundreds of incensed students stormed the premises and set fire to a building.

Dhaka Metropolitan Police spokesman Faruk Hossain told AFP that officers had arrested Ruhul Kabir Rizvi Ahmed, one of the top leaders of the main opposition Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP).

"He faces hundreds of cases," Hossain said, without giving further details on the reasons for Ahmed's detention.

'Symbol of a system'

Near-daily marches this month have called for an end to a quota system that reserves more than half of civil service posts for specific groups, including children of veterans from the country's 1971 liberation war against Pakistan.

Critics say the scheme benefits children of pro-government groups that back Hasina, 76, who has ruled the country since 2009 and won her fourth consecutive election in January after a vote without genuine opposition.

Hasina's government is accused by rights groups of misusing state institutions to entrench its hold on power and stamp out dissent, including by the extrajudicial killing of opposition activists.

Her administration this week ordered schools and universities to close indefinitely as police stepped up efforts to bring the deteriorating law and order situation under control.

"This is an eruption of the simmering discontent of a youth population built over years due to economic and political disenfranchisement," Ali Riaz, a politics professor at Illinois State University, told AFP.

"The job quotas became the symbol of a system which is rigged and stacked against them by the regime."

'Nation-scale' internet shutdown

Students say they are determined to press on with protests despite Hasina giving a national address earlier this week on the now-offline state broadcaster seeking to calm the unrest.

Nearly half of Bangladesh's 64 districts reported clashes on Thursday, broadcaster Independent Television reported.

The network said more than 700 people had been wounded throughout Thursday including 104 police officers and 30 journalists.

London-based watchdog NetBlocks said Friday that a "nation-scale" internet shutdown remained in effect a day after it was imposed.

"Metrics show connectivity flatlining at 10% of ordinary levels, raising concerns over public safety as little news flows in or out of the country," it wrote on social media platform X.

(AFP)

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

One of Us is Guilty; Prologue

Eight people, nine rooms, seven weapons. One person is guilty, and until they are found, no one is safe; from the perpetrator of the crime, or of being accused.

Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Divus Crewel, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengroto, Silver, Jade Leech, Cater Diamond

Content; Gender-neutral reader, unreliable narrators

Content Warning; Death (not described), murder (not described)

Word Count; 1.3 K (includes guide on how to participate at the end)

Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Go to this Google Form! <- form is now closed, thank you to the people who voted!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)

You were making your way down the main flight of stairs, ready to go crawl into your bed after the long day.

“Attention! Attention!” Crowley’s voice echoed over the PA system, still annoyingly chipper despite the late hour. What was he even still doing here? “Due to the weather, all remaining staff and students are under orders to stay inside the building until morning!” And the PA system cut out.

You groaned, “Seriously? It can’t be that bad–” A loud crack of thunder sounded directly above the building, causing the chandelier to shake. “Okay then,” you huffed, plopping down on the stairs, “I get the message.”

Of course, you would get stuck here for the night, guess that’s what happens when you stay back to study and work on assignments.

But you weren’t the only person stuck in the desolate halls of Night Raven College; seven others were in the same boat as you.

…

Vil was in the lecture theatre, reviewing his notes for the upcoming performance that the Film Research Club would be putting on next week. He too heard Crowley’s announcement and pushed his hair back, massaging his temple. He would not be getting a good night’s rest tonight.

“Tch, no use lamenting over it,” he sighed to himself. Carefully, he put the notes and suggestions away in their designated folder, and he made his way to the main hall. If anyone was still here with him, they might be there; at least he would have some company for the night, and not be alone in the empty hallways.

…

Professor Crewel was grading papers in the teacher’s lounge, and getting a migraine from it as well. “Have those pups learned nothing from me,” he grumbled.

He would much rather be at home in his finest pyjamas, scratching the chins of his dogs, but no, he was stuck here, and would be stuck until the storm passed or Headmaster Crowley got back on the PA system saying it was safe to leave. But knowing his employer, the man had transported himself home, leaving everyone stuck at the college oblivious.

I ought to wring his neck if he did.

…

Rook was in the library, perusing through various books, just looking for something to pass the time. He knew earlier that day that a storm was brewing, he could tell by the clouds and the faint smell wafting on the breeze. He also knew that Vil would be staying late, and he wasn’t going to leave Roi de Poison alone.

After going down a few aisles, Rook finally found a book to his liking. “Hmm, this is new. Ah, how interesting!” Tucking the book under his arm, Rook made his way to the lecture theatre, as that was where he had last seen Vil.

Perhaps un meurtre mystère would make for a good plot for a future performance?

…

Silver had fallen asleep in the cafeteria, apparently he had slept for most of the day. He had only woken up because of Crowley’s voice echoing loudly in the large, empty room.

Did they not notice? Silver rubbed his eyes and yawned. If he was here, there was a possibility of others also finding themselves stuck in the school for the night. The least he could do was make sure others were staying calm, and staying safe. Even outside of his duties he was ever still the protector, and far too kind.

“Hopefully no one got hurt…” he murmured to himself. There was something off, a dark presence of sorts, and it wasn’t just the dark clouds hurling down rain, hail, and lightning outside.

Something doesn’t feel right…

…

Azul was in the alchemy lab, perfecting the most complicated potion that was in his textbook; he had a reputation to upkeep after all, and didn’t want anyone usurping his rank at the top of the class.

There, I just need to add some belladonna and— the suddenness of Crowley’s overly loud voice coming over the PA system caused Azul to add too much, and the potion evaporated. Azul gritted his teeth, but took a step back. Perhaps a walk would help calm him down… he was going to have to replace all of those ingredients tomorrow…

“So close,” he hissed, and he started making his way down the hall, still muttering to himself.

…

Jade was washing the dirt from his hands, having just come back from checking on his fungi in the botanical gardens. He already knew before Crowley made his little announcement that he would be spending the night, which didn’t bother him all that much. Perhaps he could see what was in the kitchen, since he did have that new dish which looked and sounded to be divine.

But that could wait, Azul was most likely still working on that potion of his, and knowing the house warden, he had fumbled with the ingredients at the sudden noise and probably sulking… and Jade could use some amusement at the moment, and a sulking and slightly peeved Azul would do the trick.

…

Cater was in the kitchen, retrieving something for Trey since they were all out in the Heartslabyul kitchen. Of course it was something sweet, but Cater would rather be here than see the outcome of the freshmans’ antics. Sorry freshies, you’re on your own!

But now he was stuck here for the night, and having nothing better to do, and boredom starting to creep in, Cater brought out his phone and started recording. 

“It’s Cay-kun here!~” He gave a peace sign to the camera and stuck out his tongue. “Let’s see who we can find!” And he started chatting to the camera and walking towards the main hall.

…

…

Eventually, everyone had made their way to the main hall; you, Silver, Vil, Professor Crewel, Rook, Azul, Jade, and Cater. But there was no sign of Headmaster Crowley.

“Have any of you pups seen the Headmaster,” Divus asked, turning up a brow, and looked at his students with suspicion.

Everyone shook their head no. Divus sighed, and turned around the corner, in the direction of the Headmaster’s office, but he stopped in his tracks.

Curious, you looked to where Professor Crewel was staring; lying in the middle of the floor was Crowley, and he wasn’t breathing.

Dire Crowley was dead, murdered. And everyone was a suspect, including you.

About this Event

That's right folks, a classic murder mystery in the style of the board game Clue and some inspiration from the book And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.

At the beginning and end of each part, I will be including a link to a Google Form where people can vote for who they think is the murderer, what room the murder took place in, and the weapon that was used. There's also an optional question where you can explain your answer, just do know that everything was randomly chosen by a spinner.

The form will be active for at least 72 hours; it may go on for longer if I'm busy. A new form will be added with each part, just with the suspect, room, & weapon that was voted in the last part being removed if they were incorrect... and may take some inspo from the book I mentioned.~

In future parts there will be dark content, as this is a murder mystery; all of the content warnings will be included at the beginning, and also tagged (ie. cw death). Because of this, I will not be tagging people in future parts just as a precaution.

Now, let the investigation begin!

Link to Google Form

Suspects:

- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley's co-worker (Peacock) - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what's happening (Mustard) - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the 'house-keeper', a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach)

Rooms:

- Main hall - Teachers' lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab - Library - Crowley's office

Weapons:

- Revolver - Rope - Dagger - Wrench - Candlestick - Lead pipe - Magic

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @aqua-beam, @azulashengrottospiano, @eynnwwyjth, @hisui-dreamer, @hydra-sea, @identity-theft-101, @inkybloom-luv, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @leonistic, @lucid-stories, @officialdaydreamer00, @ryker-writes, @savanaclaw1996, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[dxmurei]

Dr. Shai Sarhan

Overview

Name: Shai Sarhan

Pronouns: He/Him

Race: Human

Ethnicity: Egyptian American

Age: 28

Height: 6 ft 4 in

Job: Head of Research

Features

• Light brown skin scattered with freckles and a few moles.

• Wavy dark brown hair. Often pulled up into a small ponytail, revealing an undercut.

• Grey-blue irises. The whites of his eyes are usually a bit red and sometimes completely bloodshot due to his insomnia and unreasonable hours spent staring at computer screens

• His nose is aquiline and covered in freckles.

• Small amounts of scruff can usually be found on his jawline, chin, and upper lip. He neglects to shave regularly.

• His eyes are deep-set and permanent dark-circles and lines show his lack of sleep and weariness.

• Obvious top-surgery scars are on his chest.

• His right pinky and ring finger have scars from radiation burns.

Shai’s Past

Childhood

Shai grew up in Tuscon, Arizona with his Egyptian mother and American father.

In middle school, his mother left him and his father with seemingly no reason.

His father changed for the worse after his mother left and often took his emotions out on Shai.

Shai came out as trans in high school and his father was not supportive.

Young adulthood

Shai was accepted into a good college with an academic scholarship and left the house as soon as he could.

He studied astrophysics and astrobiology.

His undergrad years were some of the best of his life. He had friends, a stable job, and loved his majors.

He graduated with his bachelors in both astrophysics and astrobiology and went on to a graduate program almost immediately with another academic scholarship.

Shai did well his first several years, but suddenly became ‘obsessed’ with the ‘supernatural’.

He scrapped his supported thesis and began researching ‘anomalous’ activity in the red drawf star system Gliese 667 C.

Staff and his advisors attempted to steer him back to his previous research, but Shai refused.

It’s reported he experienced a ‘mental decline’ and eventually lost his scholarships.

No longer able to afford grad school, Shai had to drop out.

Not long after he dropped out, an organization named SARO took interest in him.

SARO, the Supernatural and Alien Research Organization, got into contact with Shai and offered a dual-pathway program. Basically: the ability to work with them and gain scholarly credit to put towards his doctoral degree with their partner university.

Without asking questions, Shai took said offer and signed the contracts.

For two years Shai worked with the horribly underfunded research organization to study the possibility of life outside of Earth.

After those two years, Shai was able to “officially” earn his doctorate in “xenobiology.”

Present

• At the age of 27, in the year 2035, Shai experienced the beginning of the end.

• Portals opened up in the skies, and Earth became living hell. It was apocalyptic.

• In the chaos and destruction of the “First Contact”, only Shai and a handful of his coworkers made it out of the collapsing research facility and up onto high grounds away from the destruction on the streets of the city they were stationed in.

• Miraculously, they were found by UNE (United Nations of Earth) aid and were rescued.

• The UNE quickly recognized the importance of Shai and his coworkers’ research and knowledge and promised them a place at the UNE headquarters.

• One thing leads to another, time passes, and Shai is now the head of the SARO research division at UNE.

Shai’s Job

• At the start of his new job at the UNE, Shai spent most of his time in SARO’s newly designated lab. It was much better funded than the old one and he genuinely enjoyed working in it.

• As time went on, his presence was requested more and more often in the field to do research.

• He doesn’t particularly enjoy going out and doing so, but the threat of death or harm does not bother him as much as it does others. It’s the apocalypse. He doesn’t really have anything to live for.

• Currently, he and the team he’s on are regularly going out with the intentions to find and close numerous rifts that have opened up around the world.

Other Info

• Shai’s mother cut off all contact once she left. He had no idea where she went or how to see her again.

◦ He hoped that if he discovered something big- something news worthy- wherever she was she would see it.

• He picked up his alcoholic tendencies from his father and he hates himself for it.

• His ears are pierced.

• His self-esteem has gotten so low, he finds most of his value in the work he does.

◦ This majorly contributes to his workaholic-ness.

• Shai and almost everyone on his team has come into contact with hazardous alien material that has “corrupted” or caused physical anomalies to them.

◦ A material Shai himself has named “machina” has caused “corruption” in him- giving him a sort of 6th sense to be able to detect and see opening portals and rifts.

• Due to the corruption he’s underwent, he often times gets headaches and migraines.

• Said corruption also subjects him to nightmares. The little sleep he does get is now seeming more stressful than it’s worth.

[britt-kageryuu]

Leo for some reason decided to stream at work using the AR system, he claims that it's because it's been pretty slow recently because of the relatively small amount of clients. So his model is dressed in blue jeans, black boots, a minty green shirt, a lab coat with an ID badge, his mask with shorter than normal tails, with a stethoscope around his neck. Sitting in a rolling chair next to a desk and shelves.

The stream can only see the front desk area, and all the paperwork seen looks like it written in an alien language because of a filter, and Leo wanting to mess with the veiwers. Including his Degree(s) on the hall, since they read as presented from a hidden city college/university.

River is there in her robot body disinfecting the waiting room, and organizing the books/magazines, toys, and Cafe station.

A notification goes off with a question about the comic books Donnie supposedly brought from a different reality.

"Oh The Ronin books. Yeah we all read through them, and all agreed while amazing, it was also quite horrifying to think of the scenario happening here." Leo says as he pulls a hard back book from a nearby shelf.

The cover is mostly dark gray, and black with some red. There's a figure in all black with a Katana and Bo staff strapped to their back, and a Sai and metallic Tonfa on a utility belt along with some pouches, and rope. There is a red moon with 'The Last Ronin' in white over top of it. There is some other words and the author and artists names in red and white, but the letters are unreadable, either it's to far from the camera, or the filter is messing it up.

"The other book is at home, Pops finished this one, and wanted to read the second book." Leo says as he flips through some of the pages, "Either way it's kind apocalyptic/dystopian with a mentally not Okay main character out for revenge for most of his family 'H' being killed because the other group 'O/F' didn't truly want a truce between them, or something." He stops at a page and reads it over, "Or that's what we figure, since it's implied that one of the O/F leaders claimed H broke the truce."

"Before anyone asks the reason I'm not saying the names of the families is because the H family is actually the same name as Our family name, and the O/F group are an actual group my family had a rivalry with like 500 years ago. They're still around but there's not a full on grudge anymore." Leo stresses this if only to make it clear no more answers will be given on the subject.

"Anyhoozle the family names are why Donnie believes this is from another universe, but again I don't want to look into it, or mess with things that might lead to trouble." He puts the book on the desk opened to a page with what looks like an explosion on it, "We had enough trouble with getting past our own problems with the other group. Some of their members had some screws loose, and came after us, we don't know why, just that we supposedly had an artifact of theirs. It was just a creepy teapot!" He slouches with a sigh/groan of annoyance.

Just then the sound of sliding doors opening could be heard, and Leo sits up and quickly mutes the stream. The audience is left to watch Leo talk to someone, with him leaning forward you can see his tail sticking out from a slit in the lab coat. He holds up a finger in a 'just a minute' motion, then gets up and goes behind the camera.

Someone can be seen trying to lean into frame, even wave their arm where the camera can see, but the person is not able to lean far enough into veiw. Though it's obvious when Leo returns because they jolt and jump back. Leo walks back into the camera veiw and hands the person a bag with presumably their proscription in it.

Leo talks with them for a few minutes, before the person leaves and he un-mutes the stream.

"Sorry, one of my clients who also watches the streams came in, probably because I was streaming and they thought they could sneak into veiw. Luckily I'm a nice guy, so they're not going to be blocked or banned from the stream, and our socials." Leo informs with some amusement. He sits back down with a slight bounce, and quickly checks the work computer on the desk.

"Unless another veiwer decides to try crashing the stream, let's go back to the books, now the first book, has a bittersweet end, but it leads into the second book which is like 10 to 15 years into the future. And it swaps from present day to the past to tell more of what happened with Ronin, and act as a teaching method for the next generation of the family."

Leo goes on to vaguely describe more parts of the books, all while purposefully ignoring the chat asking why they can't find the books anywhere. And some asking if Mandarin/Mikey wrote/drew the graphic novels.

---------------------

Masterpost

The chat/audience doesn't know their real names, but just incase someone didn't know Mandarin is Mikey. The ones asking about Mikey would be their Friends/People who know them.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

what was the coolest/most important thing you did with the UN? :0

so my job last summer was basically to run around Geneva CH organizing and leading big groups of students learning about the UN system, how it works, what is diplomacy, what kind of organizations exist within it.

I spent about two months planning and one month literally bursting into different UN agencies, trying to get 40 college kids places on time, sweating to death in the heatwave. WHO staff are super nice and I owe them my life. WIPO took years off my life but they have a piece of the moon in their lobby which is cool. I have beef with a Permanent Mission because they went FORTY MINUTES over their speaking time despite having a moderator present.

that was all wild all the time. the #1 coolest thing I did related to the UN was volunteering at the 2022 Nansen Awards (UNHCR awards for aid to refugees). They ended up needing to fill seats and there wasn't a lot for me to do anyway, so I kind of just...attended them. Angela Merkel spoke. A Eurovision act performed. They served Sri Lankan curry after. it was fabulous and I got a certificate for it.

on a more serious note the coolest/most important thing I did was introduce a lot of university students to the concept that you don't have to major in politics or IR to be involved in the UN. the system is massive and we need people who do every sort of thing, from every country, of every race color gender ability sexuality etc etc.

also if you work in IT please please please apply to work for the UN there are so many jobs and so many web/application portals are so so broken please

- L

(It's Ask Day! Ask me anything about anything. Tag to block/follow is L Answers)

[softavasilva]

What college degrees do you think Ava and Bea would get? Personally I think Ava would get like a psychology or become a therapist because she knows the pains of abuse and would want to help others. And while the logical for Bea would be like theology or religious studies I can see her working towards becoming a neurosurgeon or something because she’s always the best and perfect at everything and that’s like the hardest thing to become

omg yes i completely agree with you on both of these!!! i could def see ava looking for an occupation that involves talking to people (like she loved being a bartender cause she could casually make convo w ppl) and would want to actively listen and try to help them with advices and encouragement. i could also see her working in social service. but not under a system bc she knows how cruel and unjust those things are so she makes sure to directly go to the families and children to find them the best homes. even go as far as actually getting to know each of the kids while also actively working at an orphanage and managing the staff who works there (she would ask camila to run a thorough bg check online). like i feel like her being the purest fucking heart there is would just want to help others in the best way she can. on the other hand i also feel like ava is an animal lover and she would volunteer her off days going to shelters and just hang out with them. she would also convince beatrice to foster dogs and cats (she impulsively does this fjnfj) also also i dont really think ava is someone who tries hard in school but somehow always gets the best grade jfnrjnd shes just naturally smart like that

now beatrice who excels in all things scholar, trades, and abilities would absolutely go for one of the hardest and challenging degree one can go for thus med school jfnfjjf. like we already know how dedicated she is when it comes to her craft so i could def see her spending most of her time and focus studying and practicing to become one the the top neurosurgeon in the world. as for theology i do think she would study this but maybe in hopes that she can start un-learning all the negative implications of this religion but appreciate it for its deep history instead idk? i could also see her maybe being a professor??? she loves education and correcting people with her stacked knowledge jfnjf i feel like she could be getting a masters in education and teach either theology, history or linguistics in an ivy league school

[ukrainenews]

Daily Wrap Up November 3, 2022

Under the cut:

Russian forces launched three missile and 16 air strikes, and carried out more than 40 multiple launch rocket system attacks on more than 25 settlements today, the general staff of the Ukrainian armed forces said.

In the past 24 hours, Russian forces have killed four civilians and wounded five in Donetsk Oblast, according to the oblast governor, Pavlo Kyrylenko. The bodies of four more people killed by Russian troops during the occupation have been discovered in villages Rubtsi and Lozova, Kyrylenko added.

The UN nuclear watchdog said on Thursday it found no sign of undeclared nuclear activity at three sites in Ukraine that it inspected at Kyiv’s request, in response to Russian allegations that work was being done on a “dirty bomb”.

107 Russian prisoners of war (POW) were swapped for 107 Ukrainian POWs on Thursday.

The Swiss government on Wednesday agreed to provide $100 million in aid to Ukraine as winter approaches the conflict-torn country. In a statement, the Swiss Federal council said it has "adopted an action plan to mitigate the impact of the coming winter on the people of Ukraine." The Swiss government said it will in particular help to provide drinking water and rehabilitate Ukraine's damaged energy infrastructure as winter approaches.

Kyiv wary as Russian official signals new retreat in southern Ukraine across the Dnipro River and out of Kherson

“Russian forces launched three missile and 16 air strikes, and carried out more than 40 multiple launch rocket system attacks on more than 25 settlements today, the general staff of the Ukrainian armed forces said.

In particular, Pavlohrad in the Dnipropetrovsk oblast and Avdiivka and Vuhledar in Donetsk oblast were hit hard.”-via The Guardian

~

“In the past 24 hours, Russian forces have killed four civilians and wounded five in Donetsk Oblast, according to the oblast governor, Pavlo Kyrylenko. The bodies of four more people killed by Russian troops during the occupation have been discovered in villages Rubtsi and Lozova, Kyrylenko added.

Russia has also struck Kharkiv Oblast, killing an 82-year-old woman in Kupiansk, and injuring six people in other settlements, said Kharkiv Oblast Governor Oleh Syniehubov. According to him, Russian troops attacked the city of Kharkiv overnight with S-300 missiles, damaging a civilian building and a trolleybus.

Over the past day, Russian forces have shelled Mykolaiv, damaging an agricultural enterprise, a transformer substation, a water tower, and electrical poles, according to Mykolaiv Oblast Governor Vitaly Kim.

In Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, Russian strikes damaged energy and water infrastructure facilities, industrial enterprises, houses, a college, and a furniture factory; they left 1,000 families in Marhanets without electricity, said Dnipropetrovsk Oblast Governor Valentyn Reznichenko.”-via Kyiv Independent

~

“The UN nuclear watchdog said on Thursday it found no sign of undeclared nuclear activity at three sites in Ukraine that it inspected at Kyiv’s request, in response to Russian allegations that work was being done on a “dirty bomb”.

“Our technical and scientific evaluation of the results we have so far did not show any sign of undeclared nuclear activities and materials at these three locations,” the International Atomic Energy Agency said, adding that environmental samples taken would be analysed, Reuters reports.

Last week Vladimir Putin said Russia knew “about an incident with a so-called ‘dirty bomb’ being prepared”, and that Russia knew “where, generally, it was being prepared”.

He gave no evidence of the alleged plot, which he said included the possibility of a device being loaded on to a Tochka-U or other tactical missile, detonated and then “blamed on Russia”. Kyiv has strongly denied the accusations.”-via The Guardian

You can read the IAEA official report here.

~

“Russia's defense ministry is reporting that 107 Russian prisoners of war (POW) were swapped for 107 Ukrainian POWs on Thursday.

Earlier on Thursday, Denis Pushilin, head of the self-declared Donetsk People's Republic (DPR), said that 107 "of our fighters" are being returned from "Ukrainian dungeons."

In exchange, 107 Ukrainian soldiers are being released, he added.

"Today we are returning 107 of our fighters from Ukrainian dungeons. We are giving Ukraine the same number of prisoners, mostly servicemen of the AFU (Armed Forces of Ukraine) again. 65 people of the total number of the released are from the Donetsk and Luhansk People's Republics. Soon they will be able to hug their loved ones," Pushilin said on his Telegram channel Thursday. Ukraine confirmed the exchanged.

"I know how Ukrainians wait for good news every day. And today we have them. We have returned home 107 of our people from Russian captivity. Among the liberated 107 soldiers: 6 officers, 101 privates and sergeants. 74 'Azovstal' defenders," said Dmytro Lubinets, the Ukrainian Parliament Commissioner for Human Rights, on his Telegram channel Thursday.

Lubinets said that "seriously wounded and bedridden" prisoners from Mariupol were among those released with "with shrapnel wounds of arms and legs, gunshot wounds of different parts of the body. There are people with amputated limbs and burns, who cannot feel part of their face, with infected wounds." Ukraine's Coordination Headquarters for the Treatment of Prisoners of War said Thursday that the POWs included service members from the National Guard, Navy, Armed Forces and other agencies. The POWs range in ages from 18 to 54. It said 83 were wounded during hostilities, with some in critical condition.”-via CNN

~

“The Swiss government on Wednesday agreed to provide $100 million in aid to Ukraine as winter approaches the conflict-torn country.

In a statement, the Swiss Federal council said it has "adopted an action plan to mitigate the impact of the coming winter on the people of Ukraine." The Swiss government said it will in particular help to provide drinking water and rehabilitate Ukraine's damaged energy infrastructure as winter approaches.

Some 18 million people in Ukraine – around 40% of the population – are already dependant on aid since Russia invaded Ukraine in February, the statement said, adding ''with the onset of winter, this number threatens to increase to 24 million'' and ''as around a third of Ukraine's energy infrastructure had been damaged.'' Switzerland's President Ignazio Cassis and his Ukrainian counterpart Volodymyr Zelensky during their meeting in Kyiv last month had discussed how best to provide help to those affected by the war as winter approached.

''The humanitarian situation of the war-affected population in Ukraine has become even more precarious in recent weeks due to targeted attacks on energy infrastructure and basic supply systems,” the statement warned.

Switzerland is calling for the international community to step up with additional aid to help with what it calls an urgent situation in Ukraine.”-via CNN

~

“A Russian-installed occupation official in southern Ukraine said on Thursday Moscow was likely to pull its troops from the west bank of the Dnipro River, signalling a huge retreat that, if confirmed, would be a major turning point in the war.

Still, Ukrainian officials and Western analysts remained cautious about signs that Russia was abandoning the area, and there was silence from higher-ups in Moscow over what would amount to one of Russia's most humiliating retreats so far.

Kyiv said it was still fighting in the area and was wary that Moscow could be setting a trap by feigning a pull-out.

"Most likely our units, our soldiers, will leave for the left (eastern) bank," Kirill Stremousov, the Russian-installed deputy civilian administrator of the Kherson region, said in an interview with Solovyov Live, a pro-Kremlin online media outlet.

The area includes Kherson city, capital of the region of the same name, and the only major city Russia has captured intact since its invasion in February. It also includes one side of a huge dam across the Dnipro which controls the water supply to irrigate Crimea, the peninsula Russia has occupied since 2014.

Previously, Russia had vehemently denied its forces were planning to withdraw from the area, one of the most important new conquests which President Vladimir Putin claimed to have annexed to Russia at the end of September.

Speculation swirled on Thursday over whether Russia was indeed pulling out, after photos circulated on the internet showing the main administrative building in Kherson city with Russia's flag no longer flying atop it. Ukraine said those images could be Russian disinformation.

Natalia Humeniuk, spokesperson for Ukraine's southern military command, said it could be a Russian trap.

"This could be a manifestation of a particular provocation, in order to create the impression that the settlements are abandoned, that it is safe to enter them, while they are preparing for street battles," she said in televised comments.

"We continue fighting, also in the Kherson direction, despite the fact that the enemy is trying to convince us that they are leaving the settlements and creating the effect of a total evacuation," she said.”-via Reuters

[esgagile]

Five suggestions for a more sustainable way of life

We as a Sustainability Report Consultant in Agile Advisors, the world is under unprecedented strain due to humankind's unsustainable production and consumption habits. Our decisions about our food, transportation, single-use plastic products, and rapid fashion are all examples of how our lifestyles affect the economy, the environment, and our well-being. The unit unites companies, governments, and other relevant parties to expedite the necessary transformations to tackle the triple planetary crises: environmental degradation, biodiversity loss, pollution, and waste. Discover how your actions can a significant difference in environmental protection through the accessible and self-paced Sustainable Lifestyles Learning Module. This online course dives deep into the concept of sustainable lifestyles, the beliefs and values that shape consumer behavior, and the practical strategies for applying lifestyle science in your daily life. The UN System Staff College developed the module UNEP's Sustainable Lifestyles Team and Global Opportunities for Sustainable Development Goals in collaboration with partners.

Being a Sustainability Reporting Consultant in Agile Advisors, Experts advise staying longer when travelling vast distances, eating locally, and sticking to reusable items—including cutlery—instead of disposables. Thus, by saving or renewing existing resources and implementing disaster preparation and prevention plans, adopting sustainable practices promotes business continuity. The addition of a sustainable business model is highly recommended. However, it's important to note that this does not imply that success can be attained rapidly. Businesses can achieve a reputation for sustainability if they work hard, are committed, and persevere. It pays off, so patience is required. However, it's also important to be aware of potential challenges, such as initial investment costs or the need for employee training. Businesses that care about the environment should concentrate on reaching this degree of sustainability in order to expand in the future.

Agile Advisors provide Sustainability Reporting Consultant In Dubai, Many of these beneficial developments are large-scale projects that need to be managed and operated by experts with the knowledge and experience they possess. Companies that want to take on these projects consult with outside consultants or employ in-house experts with the necessary training, such as a degree in sustainability or comparable relevant work experience. The benefit of hiring the best candidates for the job surpasses the minor cost of securing a better and more sustainable future for companies and their workers. People have minimized the importance of sustainability in the workplace for many years, but this needs to change now more than ever. Their actions, such as promoting healthier working environments, utilizing renewable energy, and reducing emissions, can lead to substantial and lasting changes in a company's sustainability practices.

Agile Advisors, a leading Sustainability Reporting Consultant In UAE, the One Planet Network Sustainable Lifestyles and Education Program offers various items, including this one. The most effective way to mitigate the various impacts of food consumption is to opt for plant-based diets whenever possible. Did you know that around 90% of the world's deforestation is caused by agricultural expansion, and 25% of the land is used for livestock grazing? By transitioning to a diet rich in vegetables, you not only contribute to environmental protection but also improve your health, reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and halt biodiversity loss. Energy consumption in companies and homes can be decreased with simple steps. Examples are using natural light, changing clothes without using the air conditioner or heater, and switching to more eco-friendly furniture and energy-saving gadgets. About 8% of all emissions come from the tourism industry.

[petermacculum]

Dr. Temo Waqanivalu’s contribution to public health and noncommunicable  disease issues is remarkable   

Non communicable diseases (NCDs), such as heart and lung problems, diabetes, and cancer, kill 41 million people all over the world, each year, which constitute 74% of all deaths globally. Out of these, 17 million die from NCDs before the age of 70. Adults, older adults, and children, all are prone to be affected by noncommunicable diseases. Besides modification of behaviors like physical inactivity, tobacco and alcohol use, and other major factors contributing to NCDs include rapid unplanned urbanization, aging population, and unhealthy diets. NCDs are one of the major challenges of global health issues of our time. that's why, World Health Organization (WHO) and the United Nations has placed special focus on the control of NCDs, and set a target to reduce the number of deaths caused by these diseases by 33%, by the year 2030.

The epidemic of NCDs cannot be halted by simply treating the sick, rather healthy persons need to be protected as well by addressing the root cause of the disease. As Unit Head of the Integrated Service Delivery of Noncommunicable Disease (NCD) Department, WHO HQ, Geneva, CH 2020 onwards, Dr. Temo Waqanivalu had made impactful contributions in WHO's initiatives to control NCD. He was responsible for introducing and growing the first global group of Heads of State and Government for NCD, that meets every year within the margins of the UN General Assembly to report and encourage one another in making impactful changes in their own countries. Dr. Temo Waqanivalu allocated resources totalling 158M for 116 nations, including 79 African, Carribean, and Pacific Group of States, via strategic and program planning. He also secured funding and led charge for first-ever guidance on integration of noncommunicable diseases into health systems, and started implementing it across five countries, covering over 10 million people.

Program for healthy lifestyles

As Team Lead of Diet & Physical Activity of the Prevention of NCD, WHO HQ, Geneva, CH 2014–2019, Dr. Temo Waqanivalu monitored all facets of diet and physical activities, and facilitated global leadership in a professional manner to prevent noncommunicable diseases. He also helped design Global Physical Activity Guideline, and developed training packages. Dr. Temo Waqanivalu provided direct technical support on Diet and Physical Activity programs in 30 countries, and founded and spearheaded the well known "Walk the Talk" program for healthy lifestyle, covering up to 17,000 staff members all over the world.

Fellowship at the Royal Colleges of Physicians, UK

Public health issues impact the entire population. WHO has defined public health as the science and art of preventing diseases, prolonging life, and promoting health through organized efforts of the society. These can include chronic diseases, like Type 2 Diabetes, and infectious diseases, like COVID-19, and measles. Dr. Temo Waqanivalu has been passionate about public health issues, and given his education in the subject, Dr. Temo Waqanivalu was offered Fellowship by the Royal Colleges of Physicians, UK.

He had the opportunity to work with a number of challenging projects, including programs to address the issues surrounding persistent and debilitating diseases. As a public health professional, Dr. Temo Waqanivalu created public health policies, developed medical education and medical care programs, and analyzed health statistics to educate communities on ways to stay healthy. He drew his fundamental knowledge of epidemilogy, environmental health sciences, and health policy management too address public health issues affecting the masses. He also ensured that the quality of programs met WHO standards, and made changes to improvements as necessary.

A problem solver for public health issues

Dr. Temo Waqanivalu has been a problem solver, and worked on solutions to community and global health issues. His efforts have helped in making a lasting impression to improve the health of communities in various regions of the world, including Fiji, wherein he has served as Sub-Divisional Medical Officer in a few of their provincial jurisdictions before serving as National Adviser Noncommunicable Diseases. Besides helping the community, Dr. Temo Waqanivalu was also involved in worldwide policy initiatives of WHO. He worked on public policy and international programs aimed at improving health in low- and middle -income countries, including the Global Action Plan on NCDs, fiscal policies for healthy diets, salt reduction toolkit, Guidance on Integration of NCD into health systems, and capacity building packages. He also gathered data to determine trends and analyzed statistics to develop plans for reducing health-related problems in specific geographic locations. For any public health problem that arises he always devises ways to solve them!

Research papers published in reputed journals

In his research paper on Understanding Integrated Service Delivery, which was published in BMC Health Services Research, Dr. Temo Waqanivalu considers integration to be an important strategy for scaling up both NCD and mental health treatments. As per his observations, integration must be reflected in the processes of care delivery, organizations of providers, and management of services. Dr. Temo Waqanivalu has published many more research papers in Independent Academia, that included implementation research steps to guide and support noncommunicable diseases, progress on salt reduction in the Pacific Islands, social determinants of behaviors related to salt consumption in the Cook Islands. 

[pooma-education]

Discussion:

Team: The National UN Volunteers-India

Qn:

Being a school leader, How would you describe your leadership style, and how do you believe it positively impacts the school community?

▪️Abdi JAMA Ahmed - UNV Somaliland

Educational leaders play a pivotal role in affecting the school environmental, climate, attitude and reputation of their schools. They are the cornerstone on which learning communities functionality and growth. With successful school leadership, schools become effective incubators of learning, places where students are not only educated but challenged, nurtured and encouraged them to adopt the regulation of schools.

On the other hand, poor or absent school leadership can undermine the goals of an educational system. When schools lack a strong foundation and direction, learning is compromised, and students suffer,hungar,and risky, According to a Wallace Foundation study, “Leadership is second only to classroom instruction as an influence on student learning and teaching process.”

What Does it Take to successful school leader?

The Making of a Successful School Leader

But again what makes a successful school leader? How do you become truly effective as a principal or in a leadership position? While there is no one solution to successful school leadership, there are certain strategies, skills, traits and beliefs that many of the most effective school leaders comman.

The following traits are common among the most successful school leaders.

1. They Understand the Importance of Building Community

Effective school leaders build and sustain reciprocal family and community partnerships and leverage those partnerships to cultivate inclusive, caring,encouraging,and culturally responsive school communities. To build these community networks it is very essential that school leaders are visible in their schools and community, develop trust ,confidence,reliability,and create a sense of transparency and shared purpose with parents, staff, community members and students.

Megan Tschannen-Moran, author and professor of educational leadership at the College of William and Mary, displayed the importance that trust plays in building communities in her book, “Trust Matters: Leadership for Successful Schools.”

Tschannen-Moran explains, “In schools with high levels of trust:

Teachers are motivated and willing to try new strategies because they trust leaders to support them.Students are motivated and connected to the school because they trust their teachers.Families are supportive because the principal and teachers have built trusting relationships with them.”2. They Empower Teachers and Cultivate Leadership Skills

Great school leaders know that they are not running.

“LEADERSHIP AND LEARNING ARE INDISPENSABLE TO EACH OTHER” —JOHN F. KENNEDY said.

To be a successful and effective leader is no easy feat. Yet, effective school leaders are desperately needed in thousands of schools and educational institutions across,in this country of ethiopia.

As noted educational leadership experts of educational leaders stated in a clear vission and mission of policymakers.but this did not make a change in school leaders and education secytor which is effecting learning and teaching process.

The presented Report of 2022 did not indicate that, “Indeed, there are virtually no more change as expected before that report to meet great change in school leaders, instances of troubled schools being turned around without intervention by a leaders to share rule and regulations.”

[rpnewspaperblog]

UNSSC and UN Environment co-design learning modules for sustainable lifestyles and digital transformation | UNSSC

With the global population growing at an unprecedented rate, the demand for resources is increasing. Adopting practices that use natural resources in a way that is both efficient and sustainable is crucial. The United Nations System Staff College (UNSSC)  is delighted to announce the launch of a joint partnership with  the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) offering a series of modules…

[warningsine]

https://www.reuters.com/world/asia-pacific/who-is-bangladesh-army-chief-who-announced-hasinas-resignation-2024-08-05/

Aug 5 (Reuters) - Just over a month after he became Bangladesh's army chief, General Waker-Uz-Zaman has been thrust into the limelight, announcing the resignation of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina who fled the country on Monday.

Zaman said in a televised address that after discussions with "all political parties", it was decided that an interim government would be formed.

It was not clear if the army would play a role, but Zaman said: "We will now go to the president of the country, where we will discuss about the formation of the interim government, form the interim government, and manage the nation," he said.

Bangladesh has been engulfed by protests and violence that began last month after student groups demanded scrapping of a controversial quota system in government jobs. That escalated into a campaign to seek the ouster of Hasina, who has been in power for 15 years and most recently swept to a fourth straight term in January.

Nearly 250 people have been killed in the violence.

Zaman, 58, assumed the duties of army chief on June 23 for a period of three years - the normal tenure for the position.

Born in Dhaka in 1966, he is married to Sarahnaz Kamalika Zaman, the daughter of General Muhammad Mustafizur Rahman, who was army chief from 1997 to 2000.

Zaman holds a Masters degree in Defence Studies from the National University of Bangladesh and a Master of Arts in Defence Studies from King's College, London, according to the Bangladesh Army website.

Prior to becoming the army chief, he served as the Chief of General Staff for little over six months - a role in which he oversaw, among other things, military operations and intelligence, Bangladesh's role in UN peacekeeping operations, and budget.

In a career spanning three-and-a-half decades, he has also worked closely with Hasina, serving as the principal staff officer at the Armed Forces Division under the Prime Minister's Office.

Zaman has also been associated with the modernization of the army, the army website said.

As protests rocked the country once again this month, Zaman called upon army personnel to ensure security of people's lives, properties, and important state installations.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 12.13

1294 – Saint Celestine V resigns the papacy after only five months to return to his previous life as an ascetic hermit. 1545 – The Council of Trent begins as the embodiment of the Counter-Reformation. 1577 – Sir Francis Drake sets sail from Plymouth, England, on his round-the-world voyage. 1623 – The Plymouth Colony establishes the system of trial by 12-men jury in the American colonies. 1636 – The Massachusetts Bay Colony organizes three militia regiments to defend the colony against the Pequot Indians, a date now considered the founding of the National Guard of the United States. 1642 – Abel Tasman is the first recorded European to sight New Zealand. 1643 – English Civil War: The Battle of Alton takes place in Hampshire. 1758 – The English transport ship Duke William sinks in the North Atlantic, killing over 360 people. 1769 – Dartmouth College is founded by the Reverend Eleazar Wheelock, with a royal charter from King George III, on land donated by Royal governor John Wentworth. 1818 – Cyril VI of Constantinople resigns from his position as Ecumenical Patriarch under pressure from the Ottoman Empire. 1862 – American Civil War: At the Battle of Fredericksburg, Confederate General Robert E. Lee defeats Union Major General Ambrose Burnside.[ 1867 – A Fenian bomb explodes in Clerkenwell, London, killing 12 people and injuring 50. 1937 – Second Sino-Japanese War: Battle of Nanking: The city of Nanjing, defended by the National Revolutionary Army under the command of General Tang Shengzhi, falls to the Japanese. This is followed by the Nanking Massacre, in which Japanese troops rape and slaughter hundreds of thousands of civilians. 1938 – The Holocaust: The Neuengamme concentration camp opens in the Bergedorf district of Hamburg, Germany. 1939 – The Battle of the River Plate is fought off the coast of Uruguay; the first naval battle of World War II. The Kriegsmarine's Deutschland-class cruiser (pocket battleship) Admiral Graf Spee engages with three Royal Navy cruisers: HMS Ajax, HMNZS Achilles and HMS Exeter. 1943 – World War II: The Massacre of Kalavryta by German occupying forces in Greece. 1949 – The Knesset votes to move the capital of Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. 1957 – The Mw  6.5 Farsinaj earthquake strikes Iran with a maximum Mercalli intensity of VII, causing at least 1,119 deaths and damaging over 5,000 homes. 1959 – Archbishop Makarios III becomes the first President of Cyprus. 1960 – While Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia visits Brazil, his Imperial Bodyguard seizes the capital and proclaims him deposed and his son, Crown Prince Asfa Wossen, Emperor. 1962 – NASA launches Relay 1, the first active repeater communications satellite in orbit. 1967 – Constantine II of Greece attempts an unsuccessful counter-coup against the Regime of the Colonels. 1968 – Brazilian President Artur da Costa e Silva issues AI-5 (Institutional Act No. 5), enabling government by decree and suspending habeas corpus. 1972 – Apollo program: Eugene Cernan and Harrison Schmitt begin the third and final extra-vehicular activity (EVA) or "Moonwalk" of Apollo 17. To date they are the last humans to set foot on the Moon. 1974 – Malta becomes a republic within the Commonwealth of Nations. 1974 – In the Vietnam War, the North Vietnamese forces launch their 1975 Spring Offensive (to 30 April 1975), which results in the final capitulation of South Vietnam. 1977 – Air Indiana Flight 216 crashes near Evansville Regional Airport, killing 29, including the University of Evansville basketball team, support staff, and boosters of the team. 1981 – General Wojciech Jaruzelski declares martial law in Poland, largely due to the actions by Solidarity. 1982 – The 6.0 Ms  North Yemen earthquake shakes southwestern Yemen with a maximum Mercalli intensity of VIII (Severe), killing 2,800, and injuring 1,500. 1988 – PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat gives a speech at a UN General Assembly meeting in Geneva, Switzerland, after United States authorities refused to grant him a visa to visit UN headquarters in New York. 1989 – The Troubles: Attack on Derryard checkpoint: The Provisional Irish Republican Army launches an attack on a British Army temporary vehicle checkpoint near Rosslea, Northern Ireland. Two British soldiers are killed and two others are wounded. 1994 – Flagship Airlines Flight 3379 crashes in Morrisville, North Carolina, near Raleigh–Durham International Airport, killing 15. 1995 – Banat Air Flight 166 crashes in Sommacampagna near Verona Villafranca Airport in Verona, Italy, killing 49. 2001 – Sansad Bhavan, the building housing the Indian Parliament, is attacked by terrorists. Twelve people are killed, including the terrorists. 2002 – European Union enlargement: The EU announces that Cyprus, the Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Malta, Poland, Slovakia, and Slovenia will become members on May 1, 2004. 2003 – Iraq War: Operation Red Dawn: Former Iraqi President Saddam Hussein is captured near his home town of Tikrit. 2007 – The Treaty of Lisbon is signed by the EU member states to amend both the Treaty of Rome and the Maastricht Treaty which together form the constitutional basis of the EU. The Treaty of Lisbon is effective from 1 December 2009.

[adrianasunderworld]

Jumping the bandwagon on that Ms. Roseheart’s takes over the school and how my You would react/handle things. To preface, in her world (earth) she’s from old money and raised as the heir to her family name. It means absolutely nothing in Twisted Wonderland but it means she has an idea of what to do in socialite circles and come out on top.

No one is spared by Roseheart’s actions but Yuu has both the most and least to lose. She’s an enigma that barely exists in the system. However, she knows exactly what to do to attempt social warfare and get away with it. 

Honestly this is Yuu’s chance to shine the most, they need a rebellion she’s gonna make it happen. With help of course. She’s always taken on a challenge by being crafty and knowing how to use connections she’s made during her short time there and this time is no different. Rosehearts is gonna completely overlook Yuu, what could half a student completely reliant on the whims of the headmaster possibly do?

A lot honestly, especially when she’s got a life debt with a good chunk of the school. It’s a long careful careful process though, She’ll act complacent and civil, and convince as many as she can to do the same. Make a little bit of a show of it to send a message that people listen to her because they want to. (Yuu’s got her friends under control beasts well trained do with that knowledge what you will.) Ramshackle being a neutral ground anyone can crash is more important than ever. Just gathers everyone who wants to attempt an uprising in one place under the guise of a study group. The remaining staff are obviously in the know and on her side. It's a she'll do what she must to win or lose everything situation sure but this kinda thing is her battlefield. (You know it's bad when everyone agrees that they miss Crowley the musical.)

With this au I keep thinking that the outcome is one of two things: Yuu and the housewardens, yes even Riddle, compile a mountain of damning evidence that Mrs. Rosehearts is unfit and legal action can be taken against her.

Or, it's like that episode of icarly (hear me out lol) where essentially this scenario plays out. The principal is dismissed and the super mean and strict teachers are put in charge and everyone is miserable. So all the students all meet up and hatch a plan to essentially make them look bad. Which is essentially what they do. When the arcane school equivalent of the superintendent goes to NRC to evaluate her, all the students go wild. They cut class, run around out of uniform. Basically a college with madhouse and at this scale is completely un able to control it. and if her temper is anything like her sons, she absolutely loses it.

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[dovechim]

lost in the funhouse (m)

⇥ 9.7k

⇥ warnings: psychological manipulation, spitting, slight blood play, oral (both receiving) unprotected sex (y’all know to wrap it right), impregnation risk, cream pie, dirty talk, name calling, Daddy kink

tldr; prisoner Namjoon is here

⇥ a/n: if you had any plans for the Valentine’s Day weekend, throw them all out the window. Happy Valentines Day from yours truly 💌

You’re used to the world being in different shades of grey. Both in the literal and figurative sense. Everything around you is doused in that dull colour, from the austere steel gates every 20 metres, to the security guards in their grey uniforms twirling their batons and sporting the big guns. This place is crawling with security cameras, with the state-of-the-art technology designed to keep the madhouse in order.

Hope World Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane. A slightly ironic name, seeing as one couldn’t find an inkling of hope in this place no matter how hard they tried.

The prison orderlies bow as you walk past them, and you give them a smile in greeting. The staff here are nice enough. The security guards always treat you with respect, but you’ve seen the way they rough up an inmate who steps out of line. Though you suppose they’re trained to only react that way to the criminally insane. Still, they keep order in the asylum, and with the rowdier inmates that you see, you feel a bit better knowing that they have your back, although you could never believe that any of these people would ever hurt you.

Like you said, your world isn’t black and white, and neither are these people. They come in many shades of grey, and it’s your job to see them for who they really are, not for what the world has labelled them as.

Your heels click along the concrete floor as you walk past the cells of all the inmates, braving the catcalls and hoots along the way. In your white coat that conceals your figure, you feel secure, confident, not in the least bothered by the rowdiness and lewd comments thrown at you. The pristine white of your coat stands out amongst all the grey like a blinding light, painfully out of place, and the prisoners know that. They jeer as you walk past them, but you only give them your angelic smile, greeting them and asking how they’ve been.

You are late to your 2pm slot. A last-minute scheduling, a case that has been dropped by many junior psychiatrists until it was handed to someone more senior, like you. You’d thoroughly familiarized yourself with his case file last night, but when you step inside the cell that you always use for consultations, nothing prepares you to face your newest patient.

He is not bedraggled or covered with the dirt and grime that seems to be everywhere in this place. On the contrary, his blonde hair is slicked back neatly, parted on the side and revealing his forehead. His glasses are perched high up on his nose, even his prison issued jumpsuit seems to fit his lithe frame perfectly. The grey material is pulled tight over his shoulders, rolled up to his elbows in a manner which emphasizes his biceps. The front of it has its buttons undone to reveal a thin, white undershirt that clings to his chest. The rest of his body, however, is concealed behind the desk he is sitting behind.

But what pulls you in is the look on his face. Many of your patients are often broken products of the system, some of them don’t say a single word with you during your session, others ramble on incoherently. One of your patients had a condition where they’d laugh uncontrollably every other sentence. It’s all part and parcel of your job, nothing you haven’t seen before. But this man looks… interested.

He is well put together, intelligent, bright looking eyes tracking your every movement. His hands are laced together on top of the cold metal table that might have been repurposed from an operating table. His unwavering stare unsettles you as you take your seat. For the first time since you started working in this place, you feel uncertain, like you missed that last step coming down the stairs.

For a moment, you wonder if someone looking in on this scene would be able to tell who the psychiatrist is.

“Good afternoon, Mr Kim,” you place your manila folder down on the table.

He smiles serenely at your greeting.  If he is surprised at the formal way you refer to him, rather than his prisoner number, he doesn’t show it. “Hello, Doctor. Nice of you to make time for me today.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you nod at him, already even more impressed with how well-spoken he is. His voice is smooth, he sounds as if he could be giving a speech at the UN.

“You know, you have quite the reputation here,” Namjoon leans back in his seat, entirely at ease as he takes in your appearance from head to toe. His stare feels intimate, and then it occurs to you that just as you are here to evaluate him, he is appraising you as well.

“Oh really? Do tell,” you are genuinely interested now. “I figure you probably have an in with the rest here. You could really be helping me out.”

“Well.. let’s see. Graduated from college at the top of your class. Could have gone on to become a prestigious surgeon, have your own hospital and all that. But no. You chose to go into psychiatry. Chose to damn yourself, sully your pretty little self working in a place like this, just to figure out madmen like me.” Namjoon says all this in a matter of fact tone, as if he were reading an instruction manual. But the scary thing is, he is spot on. “So now you spend all your time locked up in this madhouse, talking to men who think about doing the most perverse, fucked up things to you while you sit right in front of them.”

“Is that what they say, or is that what you think?” You maintain a smile on your face. You’ve heard far worse before, but you never let any of them faze you.

“You caught me there,” Namjoon’s façade breaks into a sheepish smile. “Most of it, yeah. My assessment of you, doc. The angel in the madhouse.”

“You’re right. Mostly, anyway,” you admit with an easy shrug. “I did choose psychiatry over general surgery. You’re good at reading people.”

“It’s what a psychopath like me specializes in,” he says this easily, as if he is talking about being good at math or how quick he is at learning to ride a bike. “We read people. Just from their mannerisms alone. We observe them, get into their heads, and we get inside of them. In the most intimate way possible.”

“You know, that isn’t too far from what a psychiatrist does either,” you twirl your pen, watching his eyes follow the motion like a lion stalking its prey. “You and me, we aren’t too different.”

Namjoon lets out a loud, full bellied laugh. “Oh, doll. We couldn’t be any more different. You’re so… good. A good girl. And I’m anything but.”

“What are you, then?”

Instead of answering, he fixes you with an amused look.

“People aren’t black and white, Namjoon. Just because you’re not good, doesn’t mean you are evil. Life doesn’t work like that.”

“I beg to differ. You know, here you have the guys who think they’ve done nothing wrong. In their point of view, they are the good guy, right? But then you have guys like me, guys who knowwhat they’ve done.” He leans forward now, sliding his hands along the table until you are painfully aware of how close they are to touching yours. “Who enjoy breaking people.”

You can feel his breath on your skin.

“Oh, I’ll enjoy breaking you, doll.” He finally sits back with a smile that sends the slightest hint of nerves fluttering in your stomach.

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of your session, and he gets up of his own accord, holds his hands out for the handcuffs that are slapped onto him by the prison orderlies. Before he leaves, though, he shoots you a salacious smile over his shoulder.

“See you next time, doll.”

*

“Tell me, doc. Aren’t you curious at all?”

“About what?”

In this room, there are only two of you. But you know that at any one point in time, there are eyes on you. There are armed guards keeping watch outside this cell, ready to strike should anything go wrong.

“I said last session that I was thinking of doing the most perverse and disgusting things to you while you sit in front of me, all prim and proper. Don’t you want to know what they are?”

He wants to elicit some sort of reaction out of you. Namjoon is watching you closely for any reaction at all, but you know his tactics all too well. He is trying every trick in the book, starting with the one he thinks will work best. Practically dangling bait in front of you, hoping that you will bite.

Today, he is wrapped up in a straitjacket, his arms crossed over his front because of a transgression committed earlier this week that deemed him a threat. Yet, his mannerisms aren’t the slightest bit affected. He speaks with the confidence of a foreign diplomat, his eyes roving about your person as if he owns you.

“I thought you said it was the others who were thinking of me like that. Not you.”

Snagged, Namjoon lets out a small chuckle. “You got me there, doll.”

His admission does not fool you. Someone like Kim Namjoon wouldn’t let themselves get backed into a corner or admit something that they weren’t already willing to give away. It’s all just a game to him.

“You’re so pretty. As always,” Namjoon smiles, a charming grin that makes your heart beat a little faster. “You know, we all love seeing you. It’s the only thing that brightens our days in here.”

Seeing him face to face like this, it’s so hard to differentiate him from the Kim Namjoon that you know from his casefile. Multiple homicides, drug use, violent crime, and worst of all, the torture he subjected his victims to.

Looking at him like this, he could be your English professor in college.

“Do me a favour will you? Just one, tiny little thing,” he implores, an innocent look on his face.

Wariness creeps in at the edges of your consciousness, but you find yourself pushing it away.

“It depends on what you’re asking for.”

“My favourite colour is purple.” His next statement catches you even more off guard, because you expected something outrageous like demanding to shorten his sentence or get him on parole. “But everything is just so fucking grey in here. The only spot of colour we- Iget to see is you.”

He leans forward, with some difficulty now with his straitjacket. Namjoon’s voice has dropped to an intimate whisper, his eyes dipping down to linger on your lips. It prompts you to lean forward as well so that you can catch his next words.

“Wear something purple for me, won’t you, babydoll? I just need some colour in my life,” he begs so prettily, and it’s such an innocent request, you can’t find anything insidious in it. “But for our sessions only. It’ll be our little secret.”

His voice trails off, and you can see the hint of possessiveness in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine, that holds dark promises of what would happen if you wore that colour for someone else.

The buzzer rings. He doesn’t wait for a confirmation from you, just gets up obediently and turns to the guards. The heavy doors close, and you are left alone in the cold, sterile room.

*

“Dr _____... I live for these moments with you.” Kim Namjoon isn’t his usual, composed self today. His eyes are alight, dancing with mirth the moment you walk into the cell.

He spots the lavender blouse that you have on today, covered by your doctor’s coat, of course. Namjoon only has a few seconds to take in the lemon-yellow pencil skirt that you have on before you take a seat opposite him. He is smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

“Thank you for honouring my request,” he says with another charming smile, and today because the straitjacket is off, he reaches across the table with his hands, long and slim fingers laced together.

“It was a minor inconvenience, of course,” you sigh dramatically. “Didn’t have anything purple in my wardrobe, I realized. Had to go on a shopping spree and treat myself for the first time in a long while.”

“I’m sorry you enjoyed yourself because of me,” Namjoon banters back, and you giggle with your hand over your mouth.

He watches you laugh with a smile that crinkles the corners of his mouth, emphasizing his dimples.

“What is it like outside, doctor?” He asks with a beguiling smile, tilting his head as he watches you digest the question. “What’s the best thing you love about being outside? Is it the colour of the sky, or the warmth of the sun on your skin?”

Again, his questions are so innocent, that you can’t possibly believe how many people he’s tortured and murdered. How many of his own gang members he killed. Kim Namjoon’s innocent dimples are on full display as he searches your expression.

“I like… I like how the sky is boundless. At any one time, if I look up at it, I feel… free. Like I can go anywhere I want to.” Your thoughts wander, taking you outside of this sterile, heavily guarded prison cell until you can almost feel the breeze on your cheeks. But then, the heavy clank of a prison door somewhere outside brings you back to reality, and you realise what you’ve just said in front of someone who’s been sentenced to this mental asylum for life.

A part of you expects him to lunge across the table for your throat. But Kim Namjoon has not moved a single muscle. Instead, the smile on his face is ever present, dimples and all, and you can’t help but detect something sinister in it. But instead of making you feel uneasy, it thrillsyou.

Is this what it feels like to be dancing with the devil?

He lets out a contented sigh, as if he’s living in the memories you just described. “So innocent, doctor. That’s what I like about you. You remind me of how the world would look like if everything was good.”

Somehow, his approval feels good. It feels right.

“Do me a favour, will you?” Namjoon opens his eyes from his brief escape into fantasy. “Dance for me, little swan.”

“Dance?” You hesitate. “I can’t dance… I don’t know how to…”

“Then twirl,” he says, not giving you time to fumble about in your own lack of self-esteem. “Twirl for me, pretty thing.”

You reluctantly get up, seeing the hope in his eyes as he watches your every move. You are more self-conscious than you’ve ever been in this place, especially so when he bids you to take off your doctor’s coat. Without it, without the sense of validation and authority it affords you, you begin to feel like the tables have turned between you and Kim Namjoon. That really, he’s the one evaluating you.

You leave your coat on the back of the chair. Placing your feet together, you start to spin slowly, feeling the brush of your skirt against your thighs elevate your heart rate. You go faster, feeling the breeze of your own making caress your hair. All this while you are aware of his eyes on you, tracking your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. A laugh escapes your lips as you put your arms out for balance; but all it takes is one misstep, and suddenly you find yourself in the arms of a mass murderer.

Kim Namjoon sets you upright again, his lithe arms feel strong as you clutch his biceps. His frame towers over you, and it is only then that you realise how much power he exudes, just from his aura alone. How did he even move that quickly?

“Careful, Doctor. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, now would we?” The beats of your heart count off the seconds that he holds you in his arms, and it feels like an eternity before he lets you go. “Only I get to do that. Only I can hurt you, babydoll.”

His eyes dip to your lips, and he places his hand on your chin, running a thumb along your bottom lip. You feel the pad of his thumb dampen with your saliva, and you can hardly breathe.

“You would look good with red lipstick,” he comments casually, dropping his hand from your face and taking a step back.

As if on cue, the buzzer rings, and the prison orderlies rush in to corral him into his handcuffs, lead him back to his cage. He keeps his eyes on you as he is dragged out of the room, on the way your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath.

*

A knock sounds at the door of your office. A little hesitant, but more insistent the second time round.

“Doctor? You’re late for your session with Prisoner 120994.” It’s the intern who does the administrative scheduling for the psychiatrists, Jeon Jeongguk. The number catches you off guard for a moment, until you connect the dots. You haven’t thought of Kim Namjoon as Prisoner 120994 for the longest time.

You take a moment longer as you stare at your reflection in the small hand mirror, contemplating the red lipstick on your desk. But it clashes with your violet cardigan, and the whole look is just messy.

The knock comes again, and you hastily throw off your cardigan, apply your lipstick, and gather your white coat.

“Dr _____, you’ll be la- oh. Um, Prisoner 120994 is waiting, Dr _____.” Jeongguk awkwardly swings the door open wider so that you can get past him. “You look… you look different today. New lipstick?”

“Just trying something new,” you shrug it off casually as he follows behind you like a puppy.

“Not only today, you’ve been looking different lately!” Jeongguk is quick to add on.

You are almost halfway to your consultation cell, but Jeongguk is still following you. He doesn’t let up until you stand before the armed guards. They open the door, and you see that Namjoon is already seated in his usual seat. He cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of you, his usual charming smile primed to greet you, but it fades when he sees Jeongguk.

“… the new style looks really good on you!” Jeongguk is bright eyed as he grins at you.

You cast him a cold glare. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, intern? I don’t need an escort to walk me to my sessions.”

Without waiting for a response, you enter the cell, the door slamming behind you. Shooting Namjoon an apologetic smile, you sit down across him, arranging your files on the cold metal table in front of you.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, it was…” your voice trails off upon seeing the dark look on his face. “It was our admin intern. He’s young, so he’s still pretty immature. But he gets work done, so…”

Namjoon is no longer interested in your answer. Instead, he is appraising your person, from the way you nervously arrange the papers on the desk, to your inability to meet his gaze.

“The lipstick doeslook good on you, Doctor,” he relents finally, and you are able to relax for the first time since you stepped foot in this cell a few moments ago. His gaze feels more intimate than ever as he practically eye-fucks you, lingering on the low neckline of your light blue strappy top. “But it seems like you wanted Jeongguk to see it instead of me.”

“No! Jeongguk is… he’s no one. No one compared to you,” Feeling like a scolded child, your cheeks heat up in shame.

“Aren’t you forgetting something else, too?” Namjoon is relentless, raising a brow at your outfit of choice today.

At once, you jump to your own defense, but your voice trails off in uncertainty. “It clashed with the lipstick! And so I didn’t know…”

“Did it?” He expresses doubt, his eyes still eating up every inch of exposed skin on your chest. It ignites a fire in your lower belly, makes the entire room heat up.

“But I wore something else that’s purple,” you’re quick to continue, eager to earn back his approval.

His eyebrow perks up with a lazy, lethal interest, like a jaguar flicking its tail, contemplating a potential kill. “What is that, babydoll?”

Your heart is in your throat. Knowing exactly where the security cameras are located in this room, you angle your body as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Then, you lean forward ever so deliberately until you’re sure that he can get a good peek of your lilac lace bra down your shirt, and the smirk of approval sends adrenaline singing through your veins.

This is so wrong. You could be fired for this.

But then why does being wrong feel so right?

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he lets out a single, vehement curse, his eyes unable to leave that sweet spot of your cleavage pushed together by your bra. “Today it’s your bra, but next time… next time I’ll be sucking on your pretty pink nipples.”

Hearing him praise you is the best feeling in the world. And even better is how he can’t take his eyes off you.

Taking advantage of the fact that the security cameras in this room are only filming your back, you reach into the sleeve of your coat and lower the straps of your top, so that it falls down your chest, fully exposing your breasts in your lilac lace bra to his view.

“Now I’m not forgetting anything, am I?” You voice is breathless as you watch his eyes travel greedily across your cleavage, licking his lips. “We should continue our session like this.”

Namjoon lets out a chuckle. “Oh, babydoll. You think I can concentrate on what you’re saying if you look like that?”

“Then don’t,” the words come out of your mouth, and you didn’t even realise you were this brave.

“Remember those perverse, disgusting things I mentioned during our first session, Doctor?” He leans forward for a better look at your breasts, watching as they begin to heave up and down because of your heavy breathing.

“Yes. I want to hear them.”

“You’re so… good,” Namjoon whispers, as if to himself. “I want to hurt you so, so bad, babydoll. Fuck every single hole you have until you are brimming with cum. I want to tie you up to the bed, legs spread permanently and make you my little cum slut. Just a receptacle for holding my cum, and if you dare to let any spill out, I’ll choke you with my cock until you pass out. When I finally let your pretty little pussy have my cock, it won’t be vanilla sex like you’re used to with that loser Jeongguk. I’ll brand you with my cum, and you’ll be my breeding slut. Forever reduced to carrying my babies. I will own you. I will break you so good, baby doll, and I will hurt you really, really bad.”

“I can take it,” you answer eagerly. “Anything you want to do to me. I can take it. I want it.”

He laughs again, almost in delight at your compliance. “So obedient. So innocent. You don’t know how badly I can hurt you, babydoll.”

You shake your head vehemently, leaning forward to offer him a view of your cleavage. “I don’t care. I want it.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Namjoon’s face. “If you really want it, babygirl…”

“Yes, I want it,” he has reduced you to incoherency.

“… you’re going to have to help me with it.” Namjoon reaches forward to trace a pattern on the top of your hand, and it feels like your nipples are so hard, they’re aching for his touch. The single point of contact between you and him has your entire body heating up, your thighs rubbing against each other, and your panties drenched.

You nod immediately. “Anything. Whatever you need.”

“If we’re going to fuck, we need a place where we won’t be watched. As much as I want to hurt you, that sight is for my eyes only. I don’t like sharing my toys with others.”

“I understand-“

“Now, there’s going to be a system maintenance next Monday, exactly three days from now,” Namjoon continues calmly, his eyes razor sharp as they lock in on you, no longer clouded with lust. “All the security systems will be offline until the first bedcheck at 6am. At exactly 3.05am, there will be a change in shift, and there won’t be anyone watching my cell. It takes 9 minutes. You need to come and get me out of my cell. And then… then we can talk about how bad you’re willing to get hurt.”

“How will I… how will I get the key?” It doesn’t even occur to you to question how he knows all this information.

“You’re smart, babygirl. You’ll figure it out,” he strokes your chin with his thumb, admiring how your red lipstick smears when he brushes it against your lips. “Already a mess for me. I can’t wait to wreck you, baby girl.”

“I’ll do it,” you reassure him, only to be rewarded with his approving smile.

“Cover yourself, babydoll. The buzzer is about to go off.” Namjoon sits back in his seat as you snap back into reality, following his instructions as you pull the straps of your top back on your shoulders. He looks a little sorry to see you covered back up.

As predicted, the buzzer rings, and the doors fling open.

The guards come in to take him away, and you don’t even question his near supernatural ability to keep track of time so accurately, even though there isn’t a clock in this room. Even you lose track of time during your sessions with him, forgetting to look at your watch that you keep hidden.

All you can see is him.

*

“Everything okay? You’ve been stirring that coffee for the past five minutes.” A voice jerks you out of your daze.

Min Yoongi, the head prison warden, strolls in lazily, twirling his all-access card in his hand. You almost salivate at the sight of it. It’s all too convenient. His access card is the only way for you to get into the room with all the keys to the prisoners’ cells.

He slips it into his back pocket carelessly.

There’s no one in the common pantry that all the staff in the mental asylum share. It’s the perfect chance.

You turn around, immediately spotting how his eyes are drawn to the low neckline of your top. So the rumours were true. Just a little bit of cleavage and the man will roll over like a puppy begging for a belly rub.

“Just tired, is all,” you smile jovially, dropping the empty coffee sachet on the floor not so accidentally. When you bend over to pick it up, you make sure he gets a good look down your shirt.

As you straighten up, you catch a glimpse of his dazed stare. You take it as an opportunity to step closer so that your bodies are almost pressed up against each other.

“Say… what are you doing this weekend? Are you free, by any chance?” You let your eyes linger on his lips, angling your head so that more of your neck is exposed to him. You can feel his breath, hot and heavy on your skin.

“Th-this weekend? Su..sure, I’m free, yeah,” he stumbles over his words, hands coming up to hover around your ass, still unsure of himself.

You gently coax his hands, his right hand resting on your butt cheek, and the other on your waist. He gropes your ass immediately, unable to control himself. In return, you giggle playfully, sliding your hand down to his ass in a show of flirting as well.

Closing the gap between your bodies, you press your breasts against him, lowering your lips to his ear. “You should come over. My roommate is out and we’ll have the whole place… to- our-selves.”

You emphasize the last three syllables, noticing the way his breathing picks up as a result. You deftly slide your hand out of his pocket, patting his ass as you wink at him. “Call me!”

As he watches you go with lustful eyes, your step has an extra flourish, hips swaying to give him a good show. But what he can’t see is the satisfaction on your face as you kiss the access card, sliding it into your bra for safe keeping.

*

Having worked in Hope World Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane for the past nine years, you know your way around it like the back of your hand. The guard routes, security camera positions, emergency exits. Basically, you have the map of it memorized.

Earlier that week, you signed yourself up for the graveyard shift, which of course no one wanted. No one even asked why you wanted that shift, all too glad to clock off and leave you alone in your office.

The silence is deafening as you watch the minute hand crawl closer and closer to the ‘1’ mark. At 3.04am, you get up silently, having dressed in a black hoodie and black jeans, with sneakers to go along with it. You let yourself out of your office, clutching the access card as you make your way to the control room where all the keys are kept.

From your office to the control room is only 50 steps. Less than a minute later, you are in and out, grabbing the keys from a hook labelled ‘120994’.

From the control room to his cell is another 80 steps. It takes you one minute to get to his cell, and you see him pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. He stops as he spots you, his features lighting up with a dimpled grin.

Another 10 seconds to unlock his cell. And then he is out.

The caged beast is no longer so.

You expected him to sweep you into his embrace at once, kiss you until you can’t remember your name. But all he does is take your hand in his, breaking into a run and forcing you to keep up with him. Your footsteps are silent as he leads you down the rabbit’s hole, twisting and turning until you lose track of where you’re going.

Down flights and flights of stairs, out of a door labelled emergency exit that you never came across before. And then it is down a dark tunnel that never seems to end.

When he finally stops, you are out of breath. “Wh-where are we?”

Namjoon is not winded in the slightest. It’s obvious that he is at peak physical condition, and he turns to you, front buttons of his grey prison issued jumpsuit undone. “We’re underground, babydoll. A place where they’ll never find us.”

A quick look around tells you that this might have been a medical ward a long time ago. Operating tables, not unlike the one you have in your consultation room, are strewn about. Only thing is, these tables have limb restraints attached to them. Broken syringes lie on the floor, electroconvulsive therapy machines are abandoned in the corner. Years of disuse has not done this room any good.

You should feel vulnerable in a place like this that could have come from one of Stephen King’s novels. Trapped in close proximity with a madman who prowls the room’s perimeter.

But all you feel is exhilaration and anticipation for what is to come.

You watch his biceps tense as he runs his fingers through his hair, turning around to face you. “A place where you’re all mine.”

He stalks towards you, eyes glinting in the darkness. “We have all the time in the world, babydoll. And I told you before. I’m going to break you so, so bad.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out in a near whisper as he backs you toward the wall, caging you in with his lithe arms.

His broad shoulders pin you against the wall, and he forces your chin up so that he can finally kiss you. Namjoon’s lips are rough, his teeth not showing mercy as he owns your mouth. His hands roam the expanse of your body, groping first your ass, then palming your breasts in his large hands.

He is like a drug you can’t get enough of. Every lick of his tongue is intoxicating, his lips pull you in deeper into your descent. There’s no going back now. But of course, you knew this all along.

Namjoon pulls away with swollen lips, toned chest panting as he picks you up around the waist. His strength only serves to make you even more beguiled by him, and you have to touch his biceps to feel how they tense and strain under your weight.

He treats you like a ragdoll as he tosses you onto the metal table, climbing onto of you and spreading your thighs with his legs. Namjoon takes a moment to admire how pretty you look with your hair all splayed out across the metal table. In a single motion, he strips your body of your black hoodie with a crazed look in his eyes, annoyed with not being able to see and touch your bare skin. He brings both of your hands up by your head, straps them in with the restraints before you even realise it.

Namjoon has his thumb on your chin. “Open,” he orders, and you obediently part your lips.

He spits right into your mouth, admiring the way his saliva is collected on the back of your tongue.

“Swallow, then show me,” he demands, and you swallow down his spit, opening to show him an empty mouth. “That’s my babydoll.”

He kisses down your body, looking for the first time, unhinged as he feasts on the sweetness of your skin. Namjoon fascinates himself by spitting on your breasts, watching his spittle run down the crevices of your body, into your cleavage, soaked up by your lavender lace bra.

Then, in a sudden movement, he tears your bra to pieces, the underwire ripping your skin and making you gasp in exhilaration. The raw display of strength, the primal desire in his eyes as he sees the crimson stain on your pretty, smooth skin. One finger swipes across the newly made wound, gathering the blood and bringing it to his mouth.

“Sweeter than I imagined,” he says as if in a trance, mesmerized by the way your blood tastes.

Then he dips his finger in the crimson liquid once more, tracing patterns down your belly as he caresses your waist, until he comes to the waistband of your jeans.

“I had hoped you would be in slightly more suitable attire… but I guess this is for practicality’s sake,” he muses, flicking open the button with practiced ease. Namjoon slides your jeans down your legs, hands lingering on every inch of exposed skin as he goes. He tosses your jeans somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your flimsy lace panties that are already soaked to the core.

He brushes two fingers experimentally against the wet patch. “Tell me darling. How would you like to live dangerously?”

When he pulls your panties down, you are so wet that you can smell yourself. Embarrassment heats your cheeks as Namjoon scents your arousal, biting his lower lip in response.

“Look at you. Already so wet, your pussy is begging to be destroyed.” He spreads your pussy lips with two fingers, exposing your delicate insides lewdly as he examines you thoroughly. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

“Y-yours, it’s yours. Forever. If you want it.” You respond immediately to the warning tap on your inner thigh.

Namjoon chuckles, a low, dangerous sound that you can feel directly in your core. “We’ll see how well it can take cock first. I’m going to tear your pussy apart, then we’ll see if you still want to offer it to me.”

When he reaches your ankles, he imparts a kiss to each one before he straps them in. You can feel the leather restraints tight against your skin, so that you are left spread-eagled on the metal table.

“So perfect,” Namjoon smiles to himself, licking your essence off his fingertips. “Just waiting for me to break you.”

Every second that you don’t feel his touch on your body is a moment of torture. “Namjoon,” you sob, arching your breasts to the ceiling.

“Beg for it,” he whispers, slapping your breasts roughly so that he can watch them bounce under his force. He pinches your nipples hard, reveling in your screams as he tweaks your pleasure. “All you have to do is say the word. ‘Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty…”

“Please,” you gasp, thighs aching with the strain of trying to rub against each other. You can feel yourself dripping onto the table underneath you already. “Pretty please.”

“Good girl,” Namjoon sighs in delight, taking in the trails of dried blood on your tummy. Your hardened nipples are begging to be tasted, but he isn’t done with them yet.

He spots what he’s looking for on the floor a couple of paces away. Leaving your side to pick them up, he attaches the electric clamps onto your nipples, causing you to wail out in pain and pleasure. Of course, there’s no current active between them, since this place has been abandoned for god knows how long, but this will have to do.

“Now, let me eat my babydoll’s pussy.” He finally invites himself to feast on the delicacy in between your legs that he’s been dreaming of ever since the first time he set eyes on you.

The first lick has you thrashing on the table, tears leaking and streaking your mascara down your cheeks. His tongue continues to probe your clit, circling it torturously as two fingers plunge themselves into you without warning.

Having this intelligent, well-spoken man who could probably run for president in between your legs makes you heady with desire. The lust filled moans reverberate in the empty, abandoned medical ward, mixing with the filthy sounds of Namjoon as he tongues your cunt. Two lithe fingers are buried deep, thrusting and seeking out that sensitive spot inside you.

The word slips out before you realise it. “Daddy… let me cum. Wanna cum.”

He pauses at this, letting out a harkened laugh with your juices still dripping from his mouth. “A pretty little girl like you, with a Daddy kink? Oh, this is too perfect. I’ll fuck all the daddy issues right out of you, babydoll.”

And then his tongue is back on your clit, he adds another finger to your cunt to stretch you out even more. Your thighs are twitching, heels banging against the metal table as you convulse under his touch.

“Don’t cum.” He commands, slapping your clit sharply. “You’re not allowed to cum until Daddy says.”

“Please, please stop, I can’t hold it back,” you beg and please, thighs straining to close. You are almost at the edge of your orgasm, one more lick of his devious tongue would send you right over.

Namjoon gives a disappointed sigh, eyes flicking to your tear stained face. Like a predator toying with its prey, he decides to let you off just this once.

“Fine. Meanwhile, I’ll use your pretty little mouth.” A series of movements follow, and you strain your neck to catch a glimpse of what he’s doing.

And it is a glorious sight. Namjoon pushes the sleeves of his prison issued jumpsuit down his well-muscled arms, exposing the thin white shirt underneath. It clings to his defined chest, slightly matted with sweat. But the real prize comes when he pushes the jumpsuit below his waist, and you realise that underwear is probably the only thing that is not prison issued.

The sight of his long, hard cock, angry and red greets you. One hand pushes the rest of the jumpsuit down, the other strokes his length and gathers the precum on his palm to provide a better glide. He catches you staring with a smirk, his abs tensing as he puts on a show for you.

Namjoon kicks his jumpsuit off, walking to the head of the table. He strokes your cheek gently, then slaps it hard, leaving a red imprint behind. He digs his fingers into your cheeks, forcing you to tilt your head up uncomfortably to make eye contact with him.

“Open,” he says, as if you were nothing but another orifice to pleasure himself with.

You can only imagine how much he’s been dying to do this. When was the last time he got off? Your lips part obediently, offering your throat as a vessel for his pleasure.

He rests his cock on your bottom lip, smearing his precum all over your chin. Namjoon grasps himself and moves the tip of his cock to your reddened cheek, spreading the precum over the imprint of his hand. Satisfied with his handiwork, he finally slides his cock into your mouth, and then you are filled with the taste of him.

His cock is hot and heavy on your tongue, his pre cum fills your throat with its saltiness as he thrusts hard. The tip of his cock hits your throat, and you can already start to feel how raw it is as he face fucks you. His balls are hitting your face repeatedly with every thrust, so you have to close your eyes and surrender your mouth to him completely.

“Your every breath belongs to me,” Namjoon emphasizes his statement with every thrust of his cock. “If you breathe, it’ll be because I allowed you to. Got that, slut?”

He punctuates this with a slap to your breasts, causing your nipples to twinge from the clamps. Namjoon then releases the clamps and tosses them aside so that he can bend down to take an abused nipple into his mouth while he fucks your face.

Every few thrusts, Namjoon buries his cock all the way in your throat, forcing you to deepthroat him. Your throat convulses around him as spit and precum drip out the sides of your mouth. Then, he decides to push his cock all the way in and keep it there, actively depriving you of your air supply. His balls are heavy on your face, smothering you.

“Shit!” He pulls his cock away from your mouth after what seems like eternity. “You have such a good mouth for cock-sucking, babydoll. Do you ever suck Jeongguk’s cock like that? Hmmm? Tell Daddy what a cock slut you are.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No! I’m just a cockslut for you. Only you.”

Namjoon chuckles darkly, before shutting you up as he places his balls on your chin. “Shut up and suck my balls, slut.”

You lave your tongue around him, taking one of his testicles into your mouth and playing with it, careful to keep your teeth from grazing them accidentally. By now, your makeup is smeared all over your face, sticky precum coating every inch of your skin, and he has rubbed his balls and cock all over your face, treating you like a sex doll.

You can feel how heavy his balls are as you switch to the other one. Namjoon groans, almost in pain as you suck dutifully.

“Fuck, I have so much fucking cum for you, babydoll. I want to fucking drown you in cum. But the only place I’ll be putting it is in your pretty pussy. Good girls like you love having a cum filled pussy, don’t they? You can’t live unless your pussy has been well-fucked and creamed. You’ll let any random man fill your pussy with cum, won’t you?”

You make a muffled sound in your throat, and Namjoon sighs impatiently, as if anything you have to say is an inconvenience to him. He pulls his balls from your mouth. “What is it, slut?”

“I’ve- I’ve never let anyone cum inside me before-“

“Oh? Never let another man cum inside you?” He reacts with genuine surprise, slapping one breast harshly again. By now, your tits are red and swollen with his handprints all over them. “Never felt a man’s cock pulse as he paints your womb with his cum? Never felt the warmth of his semen in your pussy, travelling through your pretty little body in search of your egg?”

“Never,” you say truthfully, entirely enraptured by his dark, gleaming eyes.

For a moment, he is silent, and you almost think that you can see a glimmer of something that you haven’t quite seen before when it comes to Namjoon. It is soft, tender, but gone in a split second before you had a chance to ascertain that you saw it for real.

“Then I’ll be the first, babydoll.” The luscious grin is back as he makes his way in between your legs, cock probing your inner thighs and staining them with pre-cum. “Beg for my cock.”

You perform for him, as if on cue. “Please, please, please, fuck me. Fuck me so hard and break me, Daddy. I can take it, I promise. Be the first man to cum inside me.”

“What would your parents say if they saw you like this, hmmm?” Namjoon runs the tip of his cock against your slit, slapping it a few times. “All bound up, legs spread, mouth used and begging to get fucked by a madman. Begging for a criminal’s cock.”

Your laugh sounds foreign to your ears. It resounds in the dim room, it is unhinged, on the verge of catatonic.

“They would be proud of me,” you say with a wide grin, and it prompts a belly laugh from Namjoon.

“Give it to me, Daddy,” you bite your bottom lip, canting your hips up in invitation. “I want it all.”

Namjoon gazes down at you with a look of deranged pride at your bruised and broken body, finally feeding you his cock one inch at a time. He spreads your pussy with two fingers as he thrusts the rest of the way in, marrying your hips together with a flex of his thick thighs.

“So fucking tight, I’m going to have so much fun ruining this pussy,” Namjoon all but cackles as he begins to fuck you, every stroke deep and purposeful.

You can only giggle, all caution thrown to the wind as you watch the sweat start to collect on his body. “I’m already broken, Daddy. Use me as you please.”

So Namjoon doesn’t stand on courtesy. He pumps in and out of your cunt, watching your breasts bounce violently from the force of his thrusts. Your walls mold around his cock as if you were made for him, made to take his fucking like his very own plaything.

He places his hands on either side of your waist as he ruts into you like a filthy animal, and you can see from the way his muscles strain and flex that he is putting every single ounce of energy he has into fucking your pussy. Namjoon’s eyes glimmer with a primordial urge, and you let yourself fantasise that you are his last meal. That he is an inmate placed on death row, and his last, dying wish is to fuck a baby into you.

Your pussy clenches involuntarily, and Namjoon slaps your cheek hard.

“What were you thinking about, slut?” He demands, keeping up the brutal pace as the head of his cock assaults your cervix with every thrust.

“M-making you a baby daddy,” you confess with a sinful leer, mouth open and gasping in pain as he slams into your cervix again.

“Oh? Babydoll read my mind,” Namjoon’s lips curl into a nefarious smile. “Ever since you walked into my cell, all I wanted to do is get you pregnant with my child. Fill you up with so much cum so that there’s no way you won’t get pregnant by the time I’m done with you.”

“Do it, please,” you beg, pussy dripping at the thought of him making you heavy and round with his child. It would be your greatest pleasure to carry his baby, to feel a part of him grow inside you, to walk around in public carrying the baby of an insane criminal.

“I’m gonna make you remember how well I broke you,” Namjoon growls into your skin, his voice is a deep rumble as he brands you with his cock. His girth feels as if it is splitting you apart, you can feel the head of his cock so deep, that if you were to touch your stomach, you might feel his cock there. “For the rest of your life, babydoll. I’m gonna cum so deep in your womb, gonna put a baby right here.”

His hand comes to rest on your lower stomach.

“Then I’m going to let you go with a womb full of my cum, and you’re going to walk out of this place with my baby inside you. You’re going to grow so big and swollen that when people see you, they’ll know you’ve been fucked by a psychopath,” Namjoon licks a stripe up your neck, his teeth sinking into the lobe of your ear. “Inseminated by a madman. Bred by a criminal.”

“I’ll give you all the babies you want,” you are desperate to feel him pulse inside you. “Visit you in prison and let Daddy knock me up over and over. Be your little prison breeding slut.”

A derisive chuckle comes from him as he fondles your clit. At this stage, you are so fucked out, cock drunk and desperate for his cum. You couldn’t possibly have any idea what he’s planning.

“That’s right, babydoll. Now stay still and let Daddy do his job. We only get one chance, so Daddy’s got to make sure he fucks a baby into you now.” The urgency in his voice is lost on you as his hips start to hammer into your cunt, driving his cock so deep until you are crying from the intricate mix of pain and pleasure.

You have no idea how you managed to get this far without cumming, but the tension in your lower belly is right at the brink of snapping. Still, you wait for his permission, and judging from his breathing, he is getting close. His thrusts are getting sloppy, his face buried into your shoulder as he chases after his release.

“Cum for me now. Squeeze my cock like the whore you are,” Namjoon breathes into your shoulder, finally giving you the go ahead.

His resounding groan as he fucks into your tightening pussy encourages you to let him hear how good he’s making you feel. Your screams of his name echo inside the abandoned room as your pussy clamps down around his cock, trying its best to milk him dry of every drop of cum.

“Milk me, you fucking cumslut, squeeze me dry,” he demands, slamming into you one last time before he releases with a loud groan, every pulse of his cock sending spurts of semen deep into your womb where it belongs. His fingers tighten around your thighs, leaving behind blue black bruises. “You better get every drop of cum if you want to get pregnant, whore.”

And you work for his cum, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your walls clench around him rhythmically. He is so deep, you can feel the spurts of his cum directly at your cervix, bathing it generously as your womb swallows it down greedily.

When you feel as if the spurts of cum have stopped, you expect him to pull out. But you realise that his cock still remains hard in your well fucked cunt. Namjoon’s chest is heaving, sweat dripping off every crevice of his muscled torso as he slowly begins to thrust his cock in and out of your creamy pussy.

“Daddy’s got to fuck his cum inside your womb,” he says with his eyes glued to the mess between your legs, watching his semen froth up on his cock. “Be a good doll and don’t let any of it escape.”

His thrusts are slower, but deeper now as he makes sure that his balls hit your ass with every thrust. You can feel how sloppy your pussy is, even if you can’t see the cum on Namjoon’s cock. Your inner thighs are wet and sticky, and you whine like a spoiled toddler.

“Daddy… you’re fucking me so hard.It’s all coming out,” you say with a pout. “How am I gonna give Daddy a baby if he fucks all his cum out of my pussy?”

A definitive throb of his cock inside you tells you that you hit his soft spot. “Daddy’ll have to fill you up again then babydoll.”

This time, a finger circles your clit, pulling the knot in your belly tighter as he fucks into you. You tense up immediately, feeling incredibly sloppy as he fucks the cum deeper into your pussy.

“Can I cum? Daddy, can I cum?” You beg, feeling his cock twitching as he hits you with deep thrusts.

“Cum for me, babydoll. Pull all that sweet cum deep inside your womb where it belongs. Give us a baby,” he cajoles, and the squeezing of your sweet, cum slippery walls in your orgasm rewards him. “Fuck, take my fucking cum. Take all of it!”

For the second time that night, you feel his cum flood your pussy, and he tilts your hips up as he roars his pleasure, fucking your cervix raw and open. His thrusts slow as his spurts of cum weaken, and soon, he is plugging your pussy up with his cum.

“My pretty babydoll,” he runs his tongue up the side of your face, kissing the side of your mouth. “Took my cum so well. It’ll be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant after tonight.”

“Daddy…” you eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

He gives you a final kiss on your forehead, smearing the precum on your face one last time before he pushes himself away from you.

You hear him fiddling with the restraints at your wrists and ankles. A moment later, your limbs are free, and you adjust your position so that your thighs are close together, cradling the precious gift of life that Hehas bestowed you with.

“Rest, babydoll.”

You hear his voice getting more and more distant as he moves about the room. Attempting to open your eyes to follow his movement, you see him rummaging for something in the drawers, and then the sound of paper tearing.

“Wh- what are you…?”

Then, he is back by your side, a large, warm hand on your forehead, forcing you back down again. A pinprick on your arm, and then everything goes black.

*

When you wake up, it is to darkness and musk.

And god, the ache in your entire body.

You move your legs, grimacing at the stickiness in between them. When you sit up, you can feel globs of cum leak down your inner thigh. You run your fingers through it reverently, bringing it to your lips for a taste and closing your eyes in sheer pleasure as you lick every bit of His cum.

How much time has passed? How long were you out cold for?

Glancing around, you slowly recall the events that transpired. The warmth in your slightly swollen belly that reminds you of the life that you have been tasked to nurture. The used needle on the ground beside you that is probably the reason why you were knocked out.

A giggle passes your lips as you scan the room for any traces of Him, but of course, he isn’t here anymore. But it doesn’t matter. He’s long gone, escaped into the night like thin air.

But he chose you.

You want to jump up and down, hug yourself in delight. But you mustn’t spill any more of His cum. You have to make sure it takes, make sure your belly becomes swollen with his child, just as he intended, so that he can see from wherever he is.

You throw your head back as catatonic laughter takes over you, peals of it resounding in the dark basement of the abandoned medical ward.

*

EPILOGUE

Your lips curl up in a secret smile when they ask. Words of ‘Congratulations! Who’s the baby daddy?’ only make your heart race.

Your swollen stomach is increasing in size with His gift, slowly, day by day.

Min Yoongi’s curious eyes linger on the swell of your belly. “You know… you never gave me your number that night.”

But you ignore him, stirring your coffee serenely.

“And, next up on the nine pm news. Sightings of mass murderer Kim Namjoon in the vicinity have been reported, but two months after his escape from the Hope World Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane, police still haven’t been able to track him down. The state has initiated a full-scale manhunt for the criminal, but all efforts have proved to be futile…”

You stroke your belly with a peaceful smile, looking at his picture on the television screen. Handsome as ever.

They should just give up. No one in this entire world can find Kim Namjoon. Not even you.

But you’re not worried. Because you know he’ll come back for you, and meanwhile, you’ll proudly show the world how swollen you are because of Him. And when he does come back, it’ll be to fuck another baby into you.

Because after all, you are his chosen. His one and only.