#i hope she gets worse i want this woman to commit atrocities <3

[humanmorph]

ive only known clementine kesh for 2 episodes but like i get it now. i immediately get it

[iamafanofcartoons]

Reasons to love Cinder Fall from RWBY, by June / Blightmxb on Twitter

1. Her outfits.

She's had MORE wardrobe changes than any other RWBY character. she's a fashion victim and she looks GORGEOUS while doing every evil deed

2. Her story.

She's the survivor of an abusive environment in a world where nothing was given to her, she learned that taking the things she wants is the only way to survive. She's such a tragic villain cause there was never a kind hand that could've lead her on a different path

3. Jessica Nigri's VA skills.

I cannot stress enough how much i LOVE Cinder's voicing. Her velvety voice when she's being mean, her grunts of frustration, how raw she sounds when she FIGHTS. Jessica Nigri does a marvellous job for her volume after volume!

4. She's a girlfailure.

She has been defeated numerous times by a little girl, has been allegedly killed by another maiden, challenged by Jaune (affectionate), kicked by THE Blake Belladonna. The list of failures goes on and i support her ALWAYS coming back

5. Her powers.

She can materialize incandescent cristals, fire, make any given weapon on the spot and BREATHE FIRE. how absolutely COOL is that !!

6. How PETTY she is.

"Do you believe in destiny?" "Yes." // "Someone once asked me if I believed in destiny and I'm happy to say I still do" Cause after coming back from the dead (almost) she es yet again ready to commit atrocities to become even stronger, i respect her tenacity

7. She looks so awesome.

The atrocities look GOOD on her and she is a feast to the eyes when she's on screen

8. She is an overconfident, manipulative, intelligent, ruthless, cunning, villain who knows exactly how to get what she wants AND she's a woman.

Enough of morally corrupted men in media, I want morally corrupted WOMEN who are POWER-HUNGRY & not afraid to take what they want !!

9. If Ruby is the light of RWBY, Cinder is the shadow.

As the show goes on, Ruby & Cinder both face failure, loss, trauma and they both slowly lose parts of themselves. But while Ruby overcomes the struggles and becomes better, Cinder doesn't change her ways and becomes worse

10. Her Cinderella theme

i'm obsessed with how she's based on cinderella but she mirrors that entire tale and instead of becoming kind and forgiving and loving she becomes ruthless, cold hearted, and vengeful

11. She is the heart of the conflict in RWBY.

She’s the only consistent villain that brings conflict to the story. Grimm are background threats, & Salem & the other villains have less impactful scenes but Cinder is ALWAYS at the centre of the main events that further the plot

12. She would give it a shot to bisexuality.

And I think that's very cool of her to love women !!

13. Overall, I think she's a pivotal character in the RWBY universe who stirs things up and gives us such memorable (and painful) moments and I just love a complex and morally dubious villain !!

Disclaimer, cause I know you guys like to take things out of context. Do I condone her actions? No. She's done terrible things and she'll have to pay for them. Do I think she deserves a happy ending? I think she's too far gone for any hope of redemption, so probably no.

I personally don't want her to die, but knowing how RWBY works there's a slim chance she'll survive after what she's done. So. I would like her to hit rock bottom so hard she realizes she's neck deep in the wrong path, but she can still do One Good thing before she's done for(+)+) and that is sacrifice herself for Ruby. Or save her/help her in any capacity when all seems lost and she's too far gone to survive. Her own little redemption to all the terrible things she's done. That isn't enough but it's Something. I want her dark life to end with a light

www.twitter.com/Blightmxb/status/1652622432560111616

[clairekatswritingcorner]

Something To Fight For

Word Count: 2,198

Summary: After spending another agonizing night as the beast, Lester awakes to find himself alone in the woods. Concerned for his safety, Alexys wanders into the wilderness to find him.

*Author’s Note*: The first of two commissions I did for @bad-blue-moon-rising! She requested a piece about her and her werewolf bf, Lester, with plenty of angst and fluff. I admit I went a little heavy with the angst in this one, but with the subject matter it was almost impossible not to. But it does have a happy ending, and I really enjoyed getting to work with some characters I’ve never written before! Consider this another one of my selfship otps <3 I hope you enjoy!

It was early morning, but the sky was still dark. As the moon began to wane, he considered how ironic his curse was, that the largest light in the night sky was the catalyst for a being that snuffed out life like a candle. In his human life Lester tried to focus on bringing people happiness, comfort, and reassurance despite their troubles. No matter how deeply they were sucked into the dark pit of hopelessness, he was there to remind them that the light of hope would always lift them out again. But in the night, when darkness distorted everything into a monstrous form and made blood run cold…he was just another slave to its influence.

He’d run into the forest, the perfect place for nighttime to warp reality into something unfamiliar, scary, and dangerous. Trees cast shadows where moonlight bled through, their trunks gnarled and twisted and creating the illusion of faces—faces that belonged to demons or ghouls. Their branches were sharp like claws, and the rustle of their leaves could be mistaken for a howl when the conditions were just right.

Lester didn’t have to pretend, though. When people thought they were seeing the face of a monster, that’s what they really saw. When people heard or felt the slash of claws, or the echo of a desperate howl in the infinite void of night, it was always genuine. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t real, that he didn’t have to be, that this aspect of his life could just be a bad dream, a cruel lie that spread like roots through soil.

But he didn’t have the luxury to say he was living a lie…at least in terms of his detestable side. He lied about that all the time, sharing his kind human side with the townsfolk and living his days like any other citizen. But the part of him that filled him with disgust and loathing, that terrified others, that was instinctual and terrifying and bloodthirsty never stopped existing.

Sometimes things were calm enough for him to forget his curse, and he’d push thoughts of it to the back of his mind. But those pleasantries all inevitably ended when the beast returned to transform him, control him, break him. He would never embrace it, never accept it, even if he was bound to it forever. It had already cost him his left eye, this feral side demonstrating just how much of a danger it posed not just to others, but to himself.

He touched the white patch that covered the wound with human fingers, almost unrecognizable to him after spending a night as the beast. Even if it wasn’t the one that had shot his eye out, such an event would likely have never occurred if he didn’t have this condition. He knew he could never forgive himself for all the atrocities committed by his hands, even if they had been carried out against his will. He knew he deserved to be branded with this badge of impurity, a physical mark that never let him forget the sins resting on his shoulders. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to get up every day knowing what would be coming again soon, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Another thought, a happy thought, momentarily displaced his regret and flitted through his mind. It was an image of the woman he loved, and he could see her soft smile and gentle hands and feel her warm lips tingling on his skin as he soaked in her visage. She was always so kind to him, so accepting…too accepting. She had never once berated nor forsaken him for his deplorable side and all that came with it. She offered him words of love and reassurance and adoration that he returned wholeheartedly, but he didn’t know how she could still muster up such tender feelings for him.

He wished he was holding her right now, or being held by her. He dug his fingers into his arms, not enough to do any damage, but enough to express the dismay hanging over him. He didn’t deserve to have these feelings, or to accept hers. He didn’t deserve to take away her opportunity to have a better, unruined future, to find someone that would love her just as much as him, but without the haunting disadvantages.

His heart ached to imagine what it would be like to live without her, what it would be like to know that she was giving her love to someone else. He was too selfish, too in love with her to find any real joy in such a scenario. But if one day he happened to cross the line just a bit too far, if he snapped and committed some unforgivable act, he would have no objection to letting her go. It would hurt, it would feel like half of his heart was being ripped away, but if the decision was hers he would never even think of denying her the chance to move on to something—someone—better.

Little did he know that the focus of his affections was on her way to find him right now. Alexys had headed out just as the sun started to peek over the horizon; she had a pretty good idea of where she could find him. He’d unintentionally let that information slip to her on more than one occasion. If he wasn’t back home, he was likely somewhere in the forest at the edge of town. She’d caught sight of his footprints—or more accurately, pawprints—just as she entered the wood, following them eagerly. As she trudged through the trees she was careful not to make too much noise in the event that her sudden appearance startled him.

Before she knew it, Alexys was standing on the edge of the small clearing Lester had collapsed in. He was fully human again, and overwhelmed with agony, judging by the way he was holding himself. Her fists clenched and heart seized a bit as she examined the few scratches and cuts that were visible from where she stood; she was sure when she looked closer there would be even more. She stepped through the trees and his head whipped around at the sound, ready to flee if he’d been discovered by anyone else. But he registered her presence almost instantly, fighting between the urge to run into her arms or turn away and advise her to return home without him. She acted before he could reach a decision.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”

It was an unnecessary question, but she wanted to know how much pain he was in, to assess whether he was in any condition to make it home without her help. He remained silent for a few moments, trying to pull himself together enough to give her a decent response. He didn’t have words strong enough to accurately describe his adoration and appreciation for her. Once again, she’d come to his rescue, drawing him back from the precipice of despair into her loving embrace.

“Lester, can you talk to me?”

She knelt beside him and he finally turned to face her. She was almost driven to tears by the desolate expression on his face, but the light that flickered to life in his eyes as he looked at her tapered it a bit. “I’m alright. I’m ready to go back if you are.”

She smiled and took one of his hands, pressing it to her lips. “Yes, of course. I didn’t want you to have to walk back alone.”

He lifted his hand away only to grab hers, pressing her palm against his cheek. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if had been anybody but you that found me.”

“No need to fear, your girlfriend’s here,” Alexys teased, relieved by the way the corners of his mouth turned up just a little. “C’mon, let me help you up. It looks like some of these wounds need to be treated when we get back, too. You can even lay in my lap while I do it if you want.”

A light blush colored his features at her proposition, although he couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to take her up on her offer. She smiled and threaded their fingers together, slipping back to the house with him as swiftly and carefully as possible. As much as Lester preferred to avoid people when he was the beast, he also didn’t like having to explain himself if he was caught making his way back home from the woods. There would no doubt be questions—he’d faced them before—but with Alexys at his side the trek always went smoothly.

Alexys was just glad to hold his hand in hers again. She appreciated the warmth and rough texture of his skin, the way his fingers gripped hers tightly in return. She was happy that he wanted her around, and even happier that he trusted her enough to share his darkest secret. Of course, it would have been particularly difficult to hide the truth from someone he lived with, but she didn’t mind knowing. She wasn’t worried or scared or intimidated by him in the slightest, instead spending her anxieties on whether he was going to make it home the next morning or not. That was part of why she’d started going out to find him. If he’d gotten hurt, or worse, she wanted to be the first person to find him and come to his aid.  

As the two approached the house Alexys took off her coat and shoes while Lester headed to the bedroom to snag a change of clothes. Before he could get his shirt on she was there, shaking her head at him as she drew his attention to the box of first aid supplies she held in her hand. Lester sighed, not because he didn’t want her help, but because he didn’t want her to have to help. But there was no deterring her when her mind was set, and it would give him the excuse to be near her and let her run her hands over his shoulders and arms and back. That kind of attention was something he needed right now, for both his physical and mental wellbeing.

He took a seat on the bed and she got situated behind him, setting her legs on either side of him so she could scoot up closer to work. There were several flinches and yelps and curses from Lester as she did her best to patch him up painlessly, but nothing could be done to avoid the process of flushing his wounds with antiseptic fluid. After she felt she’d gotten him sufficiently bandaged, she examined her handy work. She’d used as many skin colored bandages as she could in the places where his skin was usually uncovered. Luckily, the biggest ones were mostly on his back.

Alexys trailed her fingers across some of her patchwork, admiring the parts of his skin that remained unblemished. She could feel the tautness of his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed slowly, calmly. He was trying to recover from the bout of unpleasantness the treatment had caused, as well as mulling over some of the thoughts he’d had earlier. Thoughts about how she would be better off without him, thoughts about how he knew he could never bear it if he were to hurt her. But just the idea of bringing any of that up now made his stomach lurch.

“There’s something I need to tell you…” he began against his better judgement, turning his torso so he could face her. “I know you already know the risks, but every night it happens it seems to get worse. I feel like I’m losing more and more of myself. I’ll never be able to make up for the things I’ve done, the lives I’ve ruined. I don’t want yours to turn out the same—”

She hushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. Her eyes danced with ferocity and a little melancholy, but her expression communicated nothing but soft, unwavering love. “You can’t blame yourself for those things. You aren’t the one who did them. I’ll never love anyone like I love you, Lester. And I’ll face any risk that comes my way. I always have, and I always will. You’re worth fighting for.”

Although he wasn’t proud of it, tears undeniably began welling up in his eyes. Alexys kissed them away before they could fall down his cheeks. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, and he responded in kind as he closed his eyes and pulled her against him by her waist. It was true, neither of them wanted to live their lives without the other. As they held each other close, they treasured the intimacy, trust, and love. No one else in the world would ever be able to give them feelings like this, and that was enough. Besides, having her in his life gave Lester something to fight for, too.  

[littlemisskookie]

Ares

Greek Gods Series Prologue Poseidon Aphrodite Ares Artemis Interlude Hades Hermes Zeus Ship: General!Jungkook | Spy!Reader Description: Jeon Jungkook, to put it, was a very lustful man. Lust for the opposite sex, lust for blood, and soon enough, lust for you. And they say keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. As in, intimately closer. Warnings: TRIGGERING! EXTREMELY GRAPHIC! GORE! TORTURE! Mentions fo Self Harm, Death, Choking, Breathplay, Knifeplay, Bloodplay, Intercourse, Blowjob, Humiliation, D/S Themes, S/M Themes, Creampie, Slight Exhibitionism, Fingering, Biting, Spanking, Degrading Names, Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Light Angst Word Count: 13,804 A/N: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART! Take warnings seriously! This is extremely triggering for some and definitely not light-hearted in any way, shape, or form. Also, this isn’t meant to be disrespectful towards certain countries because of politics, and it isn’t meant to do any harm.

Jeon Jungkook, to put it, was a very lustful man. Lust for the opposite sex, lust for blood, and soon enough, lust for you.

He was a simple man to understand, and after gathering intel on him for years, you got closer to him than anyone from your side ever had. While the other agents couldn't get so much as a few miles close, you were both chest to chest. Oh yes, it'd be an understatement to say you two became close.

They say keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. As in, intimately closer.

Jungkook's army was at war on your own, the mighty general being a thorn in your side since the wretched battles began, and it didn't help that you were the unknown sister of the general for your own army. After faking your death and erasing your identity, you stowed away to become one of the top spies in the secret government, set on vanquishing enemies and acquiring information. You had begun your training when you were only eleven, and now, ten years later, when the identity of the enemy's general was finally revealed, you were at the top of the list to infiltrate Jungkook's plans.

You had expected to assassinate him, perhaps sneak into his room or safes to find hidden documents or files. Your job was much harder, and it figured they'd send you to him yourself. The boy was known to be a war genius, nineteen today, meaning he had begun his elaborate and admittedly brilliant plans to pummel your army at only nine years old. But he hadn't been a match for your brother, who took over after five years in battle, having many more years of training and practice than Jungkook, since he himself fought in battle and started learning battle strategies for twelve years. You weren't even sure your brother knew you were an agent since he was stolen away when he was simply a child to begin training for the army. He was a war hero, but neither he nor Jungkook seemed to be able to outdo the other. You yourself sensed Jungkook was somewhat holding back.

The war was incredibly important since it could easily determine the fate of World War 3. in 2019, the US and Russia signed a peace treaty to avoid using nuclear weapons on each other, where the US would hold back its weapons and military force, and Russia would help in holding back North Korea's nuclear bombs. Even decades later, the treaty was still intact, though now it was very close to being broken.

The war between Jungkook's army and your own was ongoing, started over a decade ago, and yet was still strong and continuing, only getting worse as time progressed. North Korea, Russia, and China were all feeding extra weapons for his cause, while the UK, US, and Germany were secretly feeding weapons for your own team. Both sides were secretly being given the technology and weapons needed to continue the war, keeping it strong and striving, hoping desperately to go against the others.

The end of the war would trigger World War 3- for all relations with other countries were incredibly tense at the moment, simply waiting to be broken. The winner of the war would pour in more countries for whoever won, each wanting to up their chances by going for the one with the upper hand, simply looking for themselves to gain profit. That was why it was so vital to win this war- it could help determine which side would win.

So in a way, the fate of the world could easily rest on your shoulders.

After gathering so much intel on him you knew him better than anyone else in the country, it made perfect sense for you to sneak your way in as his lover. You disguised yourself as a nurse, implanting chips in people's brains to locate you as close as possible to the general. You waited, gathering information from the other nurses as they used their idle gossip to go on about Jungkook himself, rumors no one else could've known back at the agency.

He had plenty of mistresses, but none lasted. None could give him what he truly desired. Each was desperate to sate him, for his devilish good looks and dominating personality seemed to make them melt into mush at his feet, desire overwhelming them as they were willing to do exactly as he said. They'd be cast out of doors, stripped naked, beaten badly and crying out. One would've thought he tortured them, perhaps raped them as well, though some of his colleagues whispered how that wasn't quite the case. Perhaps the general was into darker things than normal, and you had your own suspicions, sneaking down to where the wounded mistresses stayed, crying in their sleep as you quietly whispered and asked what he did to them, having their frightened eyes and flying lips spill some of the atrocities they weren't able to handle. You gathered the information you needed before yanking out the pillows beneath their heads, suffocating them until their muffled screams stopped and kicking legs ceased to move. Most simply didn't bother to look into it, suspecting they died from their injuries, and you were free to carry on your sleuthing.

You kept close to corners, straying from his eyes as he walked around the floors of the buildings, either walking to battle or to strategy rooms. People scampered out of his way, afraid to cross, each trembling with fear with each step he took. You couldn't deny that he was handsome, power and dominance radiating off of his body, but you seemed to understand immediately the type he was, and exactly what he wanted.

Some would say that each time someone mentioned the enemy, his eyes would light up with unknown delight and mystery, a malevolent smile curling into his lips. He'd have a wicked, yet charming snicker, ringing through out the room as he decided to go either medium or soft on them. Some said he refused to show the true power of his weapons, nuclear and atomic that were sent by his allies, for he enjoyed watching the dance of weapons all too much to let it end- even after ten years. He was a vicious killer, showing up to every battle, and he always seemed to kill the most. Everyone knew he purposely avoided your brother, but you started to think it wasn't so much cowardice as it was for entertainment regarding the future battles.

And it seemed to click exactly how you could get him to keep you. Yet how were you to have him yours in the first place?

The opportunity arose when you least suspected it. You had just framed another nurse for poisoning several wounded soldiers (after all, they are the enemy) when Jungkook came storming into the hospital wing. The shouting and anger seemed to cease, and the doctors holding up the bloodied nurse- her face already badly beaten, nose broken, and a swollen eye- immediately dropped the woman, frozen in shock as they stared at the general. Never before had he come to the hospital wing, but his nose was flaring, eyes wide and blazing with anger. Everyone seemed to tremble, frozen and wide eyed as they stared at the man. You remained stoic and still, casually leaning on the wall as you stared at the spectacle.

"Is this the woman?" Jungkook stared at the bloody heap at the feet of the doctors, his chest rising and falling with anger.

"Y-Yes sir," one of the doctors stammered. "S-She's been poisoning over forty of our men, general, s-she has been-"

"Pick her up this instant," Jungkook said lowly, his voice ominous and dark.

The doctors quickly picked her up by either arm, dragging her up, her eyes looking to the general in mercy and in fear. She was trembling, coughing up blood, her upper lip busted. "P-Please, s-s-sir, I didn't-" she horked up some more blood, letting it splatter at her feet. "I-I didn't d-d-do it!"

You wanted to scoff at her attempts, insisting she was innocent. You planted the evidence too perfectly, there was no way anyone would believe her. You hijacked the system and didn't leave a single fingerprint, even disguising yourself as her and planting evidence in her own bed sheets and on her own skin. It was all too obvious.

Jungkook stepped forward coolly, his expression unmoved. His large, veiny hands were on either side of her head, and in a blur, a sickening snap rang throughout the room, and the woman crumbled in the doctors' arms, her neck twisted at an odd angle. Her death was quick, efficient, and public. You had no idea Jungkook was so merciful.

He looked towards the doctors, his expression calm compared to their frightened and sickened ones. "Send her outside, cut up her corpse, and burn it in the furnace. I don't like leaving a mess for someone so insignificant."

They nodded urgently, picking up her body and rushing between the doors, everyone shriveling up and cowering at the atrocity that was just committed. Sure, it was justice, at least as far as they knew, but it was monstrous all the same.

Jungkook's about to step out before he pauses, craning his neck as he looks back at you. "And who are you?"

"But a simple nurse," you spoke calmly.

"Name?"

"Min Jun," you say, using the fake name that you've been under since you arrived.

"Why is it that you're the only one who isn't recoiling?" Jungkook quirked a brow, stepping closer to you. "You've witnessed your coworker's death."

"She got what she deserved," you pointed out blatantly. "Who am I to cower when justice is being served? The enemy isn't one to be pitied."

Jungkook smirked, his eyes lighting up as they glazed over your figure. "Very respectable. And you don't fear me?"

"Do I have a reason to?" you challenged, raising a single brow as you met his eye.

He seemed impressed, half momentarily stunned by your boldness, but a wide grin stretched across his face as his fingers curled in the air, slim fingers beckoning you forward with enticing grace. "Would you care to follow me, Miss Min Jun?"

You smirked, following him step as you walked side by side- like equals, his arm curling around your shoulders, the muscular arm that could kill you in an instant taking on a somewhat protective form, and yet you knew better.

Within a moment he yanked open a door, shoving you inside what appeared to be a closet. A light flickered on, and you looked to Jungkook's nimble fingers splayed out over the light switch, your eyes traveling from his hand and along his muscular arm to his face, sharp jawline and hooded eyes. Within a moment he slammed you against the door, fingers locked around your neck, his eyes staring at you with a certain type of whimsy and amusement. He cocks his head at you, as though he was admiring how your face steadily and slowly began to bloom red.

"Are you scared of me now?" he asks you, his face serious and calm, watching as your flaring nostrils seemed to beg for breath. "I could kill you if I continue... aren't you frightened?"

You knew that if you said you were, he'd snap your neck in an instant. What drew him to you was the opposite, and you knew you had to keep that quality close. It was easy to tell exactly what he liked, now that you gathered more intel than anyone back at the agency. He loved a good battle and fighting, seeing how it plays out even when he holds back power to where he knows he could instantly win. Chances are that it'd be the same for dominance, where he'd like to battle it out before completely overpowering somebody.

And you needed to be exactly that. A challenge.

Jungkook's grip loosened slightly, and you cracked a weak smile. "Why would I be scared when I enjoy it, baby?"

His eyes widened with shock, lighting up at your daring words, and his grip tightened once again, his hand traveling down your body beneath your nurse-dress, cupping your sex and running his fingers sensually through the fabric. "Seems like we've got ourselves a whore here, huh?" he snickers. "A dirty one too... what a freak. Just how I like 'em."

His hands move away from your core, and the hand clasped around your throat starts dragging you down to the point where you were sitting down, and Jungkook's hand was instead buried in your hair, a fistful of the strands as he roughly had you look up at him. He quirks a brow. "Still like it?" he questions, a smirk on his face.

You break out into a smile, "I won't waste my time with someone who's soft. But I'm not sure if you've really earned it. I'd much prefer seeing you on your knees, begging for a rough fuck."

He grinned. "Oh really? I have to earn it?"

You gave him a snide look. "I'm not just going to beg and whine for your dick just like that. I'm not so easy like your other whores. You'd probably just crumble the moment I force your mouth to attach to my cunt, huh? Bet you wouldn't even know what to do."

This was all just a persona for you. A part of a character, a stolen identity. If this was how you were supposed to be enticing enough for Jeon Jungkook, you'd be as snarky and as tempting as you could be. It seemed to please the man because soon enough he was diving down to your level, his hands on your shoulders quickly sliding down to your wrists, keeping them pinned on either side of the door, while his tongue dived into your hot cavern to fight with your own.

The battle for dominance was a hard one, and though you planned to let him win, you fought eagerly, trying to make it seem as though you desperately wanted him to be the submissive. Even if you won he wouldn't be compliant, but who knew what it'd do for his ego to have won the small, mini-battle for the overall one. Your tongues danced together, each as aggressive as the next, and though your lungs seemed to burn for air you refused, not wanting to tire out until you were certain he'd be satisfied.

At last, your movements seemed to give up, and you turned your head to the side to start gasping for breath, filling your lungs with oxygen as you screwed your eyes shut. Jungkook smirked, "Giving up so easily, doll?"

"Fuck you," you spat, gritting your teeth.

He laughed in response, snickering as he got up onto his feet, tangling his fist in your hair and jolting you forward from your sitting position to one on your knees. "Seems like I earned it," he grinned. "Now, open up doll, I think it's time for my reward after your surrender."

The tingling sensation from how harshly he yanked on your hair caused your scalp to sting, and you gritted your teeth, unable to deny to yourself the fact that you enjoyed it far more than any of his regular dames. You would spend the nights testing out what the mistresses whispered in gradual levels, as though you were training yourself. You'd choke yourself with your own hands until your vision became dotted, you used a razor to cut light lines along your inner ankles to get used to the blood and see how deep you could go until it scarred, never daring to do too much. And you tried, again and again, to condition yourself to where whatever he attempted wouldn't be something you couldn't handle. And through your conditioning, you found out what made it so sexually pleasing, and how someone could admire the blood that dripped down the skin and the joy of seeing the brink of death brought in such erotic fantasies.

As for the regular sexual activities, you weren't inexperienced. Often times during your training you'd have to treat your superiors to help you move up a few ranks, or perhaps sleep with a few fellow trainees to catch them when they were most vulnerable, and only then were you able to make the jump on them to move up another slot. You were ruthless, doing whatever you could to guarantee you were the best, and that you were on top. No one was going to take that away from you, and at the academy, there was a good reason they told you to have your back watched. Killing wasn't against the rules because it was simply seen as experience. If you truly were worthy of being in their league, you wouldn't be killed by a lower ranking agent, now would you?

So if Jeon Jungkook wanted a blowjob, you'd bring up everything you could to please him. But the mission wasn't to kill him- he'd have a backup in case of his death, you were sure- the mission was to get the information of his strategies.

Jungkook undid his belt, hastily yanking down his pants with one hand, his other hand snaking from your hair to your cheek, giving it a few sharp slaps. "Open up, doll," he snickers, watching as you stared up at him, opening your mouth obediently. He grabs at your jaw, his middle finger and thumb both digging into either cheek, forcing you to look up at him. Your tongue seems to slip out partially, a small bit of drool pooling down your chin, and Jungkook's eyes look at you with glee. "I think I'm going to enjoy using this dirty mouth of yours, and finally use it for something useful."

His hand moves up and down his length, already rigid and firm in his hand, and he slowly pumps it. He readies himself for you, licking his lip as he stared down at you, your jaw in an awkward position, anticipating what he would do next. You'd let him do anything he wanted to you, you needed to. This was your chance. Only mistresses were allowed in his bedroom, and you'll be damned if he wasn't hiding something there. Your agency was positive about it.

He directs himself at your lips, letting the tip circle around your lips before he pushes in, and you widen for him, surprised that he immediately hits the back of your throat. Your hands fly up to his thighs, muscular under your palms, and you begin to gag around the tip of his cock, choking on it. It felt as though the air had been knocked right out of you, and you most certainly weren't prepared. He grinned at your response, hissing in delight at how your nails dug into his skin, already piercing it. You were sure you'd get blood under your fingernails.

You tried your best to stop your throat from quivering and spasming around the tip of his cock, and Jungkook seemed to marvel at your discomfort and pain, grinning like the sadist he was. You tried to calm yourself, thankful when he started to move back, where he was back towards the entrance of your mouth, and he started pumping himself into your mouth, where you tried to relax your throat to prevent the same gagging and furious coughing from earlier.

He pulls out, and you cough furiously, pounding your hand against your chest as you started to regain your breath. Jungkook smirks to you, "Think you can handle it, doll? I'll send you right back out. Pity though, I was starting to have hope for you."

You glared at him. "Bring it on, fucker. I'm not going to stop anything, do your worst."

He grinned deviously, gripping his cock as he redirected it towards you, quirking a brow. "You asked for it, you ready now?"

You sucked in a breath through your nose, opening your mouth obediently, looking him dead in the eye as a silent yes. He plunged himself back into your mouth, and you screwed your eyes shut to prevent gagging once again. You were better this time, though he wasn't purposely jabbing the back of your throat this time. He pumped himself into your mouth, beginning his pace as it started to speed up with every thrust. You winced when he touched the back of your throat, but succeeded this time in not gagging, able to relax your throat and jaw as Jungkook moved within you.

Hollowing your cheeks, you did your best to suck on him, despite his fast pace as he brutally snapped his hips. This was a test, you knew it. He was testing you to see if you were really the sort of pet that could handle him. This was vanilla for him, probably. But exactly how much would you be able to endure? You hoped all of it, or at least succeed in your mission before it got to a certain point where even you'd be unable to handle it. Still, you mentally and physically tried to prepare yourself for this beast, and you were rather stubborn, persistent, and ambitious. You tried to hold confidence that you'd get through this.

Jungkook didn't mind being loud. He had labored grunts as he thrust into your mouth, enjoying how your nails dug into his thighs, holding on as though for dear life. The mix of grunts, hisses, and moans filled the small closet, and his fingers tangled in your hair as he repeatedly thrust into your mouth. Each time his cock slipped out, you'd take in greedy gulps of air, only for him to slap the side of it against your cheek once or twice, and continue his pace.

You felt as though your lungs were on fire, and you hadn't been able to take in any air for a while. You knew that you could easily go without taking a breath for thirty seconds, and your maximum time including struggling was a full sixty seconds. Tears seemed to prick at the corners of your eyes, some slipping down your cheeks as you tried not to think about the pain in your chest, trying to endure it for him. He seemed to notice and slipped out, and for a moment you thought he was going to take pity on you.

He bent down where he was eye level with you, a cocky smirk on his face as he tilted your chin up with one hand, licking a stripe up your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears. He then stood, furiously jacking off, aiming directly at your face. You opened your mouth, on your knees as you inhaled as much air as you could, expecting him to enter your cavern once again.

Instead, he kept on jacking off, staring down at you. "Would you like my cum all over your face?" he questions, cocking a brow. "If you do... I'll make you walk out in public. Are you willing to do it?"

"Yes," you answered immediately.

"Are you sure?" his pace quickens, his veiny hands firm as he keeps pumping himself, pearls of precum forming at the tip. "Once you do it, I'm walking you to my room... you know you'll stay there as mine."

"Yes, that's fine, do it already," you urged, eyes lighting up with the prospect of him finally accepting you as a pet, able to have access to his room. This was your chance! You'd have completed the test and finally be accepted to the area you needed most, and even though it'd involve degradation and humiliation, you were more than willing to endure it.

Jungkook's pace quickened, and he leaned over the door, pressing his arm against it as he groaned out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the hot liquid cover your face, small splotches forming. You kept your lips pressed together, careful to not lick up a single drop,  even though some of it was dripping down your lips and chin. When it was over, you looked over to Jungkook, who was grinning with satisfaction.

"Don't you look stunning," he chuckled. "I'm a fair man, and I'm sure you know what you're getting into, being a nurse and having to treat... injuries. If you wipe off the cum now, or at any point as you're walking with me to the room, it's off. You and I won't have any more fun together, doll, though that'd be a pity. But if you succeed, meaning everyone gets to know just what a mess I can make you as another one of my whores-" He paused, smirking to you as he caught some of the sticky substance that was dripping down your chin, and proceeding to wipe it on your cheek. "Then you're not going to have to work as a nurse anymore. Do you want this?"

"Absolutely," you said with no hesitation, eyes glimmering with being close to the next step. His fingers travel to his thighs, the small scratches you made, blood prickling up the skin, and small droplets that turned fatter and fatter each second, dripping down. He scooped some of it up, taking it in two fingers before putting them in his mouth, staring you in the eye.

He quirked a brow towards you, smiling. "We'll see how eager you are." He quickly shoves his softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and combing his fingers through his hair, and then proceeding to open the door.

He immediately walked out, and you had no choice but to trail behind him. Your cheeks burned immediately at the gawking stares and wide eyes that turned towards you, burning into your head, and you started to feel a bit more sheepish than you thought you would be. You thought this would be a breeze, but evidently, it isn't as easy as you thought. It was humiliating.

You became more aware of your appearance. Your hair was probably a mess from how harshly Jungkook yanked on it, lipstick smudged all over your lower face, and of course, the drying cum that covered your face. Your cheeks were crimson, and you knew any attempt to hide your face would have no use. You hated the judging and the mortification, and you wanted nothing more than to slit their throats one by one, for them to stop looking at you that way. But you knew you couldn't, and this was Jungkook's test. You had shown you were willing to fight him in battles, yet go through his plans, and he was seeing whether or not you were lying.

You did your best to stand proud and tall behind him, your eyes trained on the back of his head to ignore the stares that pierced your skull like daggers. Coworkers were whispering to each other, and some had their eyes scanning your features, as though memorizing exactly what you'd look like so that they'd gossip more about the general's newest whore: one of their own nurses.

You tried to memorize the route he took, going up elevators and taking sharp turns, and eventually, you found yourself in the bedroom of the general. He bent down, letting small red lights scan his iris, and proceeded to press his entire hand against a small screen. Immediately, a small compartment jumped out from the door, holding what looked like a white piece of plastic. Jungkook picked it up, pressing his tongue flat against it and putting it back, where the compartment closed once again. Within a moment, a small knob protruded from the metal door, and Jungkook twisted it open, welcoming you inside.

The room was well lit, looking rather ordinary. Well, ordinary to the sex dungeon you were expecting, though there was one small wall of sex toys of flogs, whips, chains, and lingerie alike. You resisted any urge to shudder at the sight, remaining cool and collected as you peered around the rest of the room. The bed was big, a velvety red, and from the looks of it, the sheets were made of silk. Small ornaments were made of ivory or gold, and above the bed hung an elaborate painting of what you assumed to be the Greek god, Ares. The walls were black, and the soft lighting showed how small details of the room tied closer to your general.

On the headboard of the bed, carved into the dark wood were small knives. The legs of the desk looked as though they were dripping with blood, and the same went for the sides of the dressers. There was something oddly beautiful as well as morbid about his room, and it seemed to master both elegance and detail. You marveled at it all, admiring how it all seemed to tie together, already forming what seemed to be the perfect depiction for what you knew of Jungkook, a sadistic, violence crazed bastard. At least he was hot, so perhaps that's why the world seemed to excuse it so far.

You wondered whether or not he'd be more merciful or more ruthless since you passed his test and were able to make it to his bedroom, and you decided it'd be best not to ponder over the fact. You were here willingly, and there was a reason you worked to get to this position. You needed it, and you'd suck Jungkook's cock a thousand times to get what you wanted.

Jungkook gestured towards one of the dressers. "You can get a fresh set of clothes in that dresser- it should have some your size. And to the third door on your left is the bathroom, where you can tidy and wash up, perhaps take a shower. After you should get your rest, perhaps watch a show or the news, but I'd recommend some sleep. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes once you turned your back to him, assuming he just meant sex. You went to the dresser, grabbing some clothes you assumed would fit you, which was surprisingly decent and not at all revealing- the opposite of what you suspected. You then went to the bathroom, turning on the shower and retrieving a cold rag to wipe the now dried cum from your face.

What you didn't expect is to be awoken in the dead of night, your shoulder being shaken and clothes being thrown upon your head. You shot up, yanking the fabric off of your face, staring up at the grinning Jungkook. "Wake up, doll," he snickered. "I hope you had a good night's sleep because we're heading to the battlefield."

"What?" you grumbled, staring down at the fabric. "Battlefield? I thought your perverted ass meant sex or something! I'd much rather pounce your ass, please tell me you're joking."

"Funny," he smirked. "But you and I both know I'd put you back in your place, but I do enjoy a good struggle. Sadly enough, this isn't a joke. You're the most impressive I've had, and if I plan on keeping you around you ought to be good on the battlefield as well- I mean, sticking around with me for too long is bound to bring along a good few fights for yourself. If you get killed, I'll replace you, though I'll be disappointed. Truthfully, I'm curious to see how long you'll last- if you can. Tell me, have you had training or fighting experience before this?"

"I had to take training when I tried to join the battlefield but decided to become a nurse instead," you bluffed, narrowing your eyes. "But if you want to know if I know how to survive on a battlefield, I do. It was required before coming here, in the case of an attack."

"It is?" Jungkook quirked a brow, surprised. "You'd think I'd know the requirements to work here, seeing as I'm the general and all, but I suppose it makes sense. Whatever those imbeciles are doing where they're preparing everyone... It's a good idea. Surprised those idiots can come up with that though."

He steps aside, walking over to the wall of sex toys. Twisting a flogger a quarter counterclockwise, the wall popped out, spinning around to reveal a wall of weapons. Knives to nunchucks, various guns, and weapons galore. Jungkook glanced back to you, quirking a brow. "Pick whatever you'd like... but keep in mind, I'm always watching, so any funny business- don't take it personally, doll- will have immediate consequences."

You blinked at him, understanding. You'd be fighting your own, and you wouldn't be able to turn on the side you were pretending to be on. You'd be caught immediately. And any attempt to kill Jungkook would most likely be futile- and what was more important was the plans for the war, and how to use his strategies against him.

But it wasn't of any inconvenience to you, really. Who cares about lives being lost? If they got in your way, then it was simply necessary. More lives would be lost if you didn't succeed, so what's a few dozen?

You wore a stony face in comparison to Jungkook's cocky smirk, going to the wall of weapons and immediately grabbing two guns, and a laser wristwatch. That was all you'd really need. You looked over to the side, picking up a bulletproof vest and helmet. You picked up your things, plus the clothes still on the bed, and quietly walked to the bathroom, aware that in a sense, in but a few hours, you could be considered a traitor.

Bullets were whizzing through the air, soldiers running left and right, wildly trying to shoot the opponent. You yourself were shooting as many as you could, and you could practically feel Jungkook's eyes burning into your skull, knowing that somewhere, somehow, he was keeping an eye on you.

You were hiding behind rubble at the moment, looking back to the scene and shooting. This was your second gun, and it was almost out of bullets. You cursed to yourself,  covering your head as an explosion went off in the distance. You always hated grenades, they're too troublesome. A cyborg flew over the rubble you were hiding behind, landing a few feet in front of you. Its head had only a chunk left, and it was badly burnt.

Sure, cyborgs fought alongside men, but they were even easier to get rid of, in your opinion. Burn the circuits, or one blow or cut to the right wire and it's a useless heap of metal. Cyborgs were made back in 2039, though a law was made where they couldn't be made with artificial intelligence. Therefore, they were simply slaves to mankind, only made for meaningless tasks, and to fill in for rich men and women who paid for the cyborg to take their place in the draft.

If an injured soldier or disabled paid enough, they could get a surgery that would give them robotic parts, often times from a broken or failed cyborg. Though it made their day to day lives better physically, and they were more enhanced and evolved than the normal human, they were often discriminated against, seen as inhumane and undeserving of equal rights. Some thought they should be made to serve as well, while others thought they were as deserving of equal rights as anyone else. Personally, you didn't give two shits. It didn't affect you.

You ran to the heap of metal, using your few seconds to wildly yank at the head, twisting it in an odd angle before prying it off. You returned to the pile of rubble, peeking around it and shooting your last few bullets. You saw a figure approaching, and you crouched down, grasping the metal in your hands and waiting exactly five seconds before jumping up, throwing the hunk of metal with such accuracy it hit the culprit in the face, knocking him back from the machine he was on top of.

The soldier's gun flew out of his hand, and the helmet flew behind him, the strap now wrapped around his neck, choking him slightly. You grabbed at his foot, yanking him back behind the rubble, pointing the laser wristwatch at him, your eyes narrowed and menacing as you stared at him with the eyes of a cold blooded killer.

His mask had been knocked to the side, and now he was looking at you with not fear- as you usually saw right before you'd kill someone- but rather with annoyance. He whipped out a gun, the barrel staring you in the face as you aimed the laser at him, the small red dot aiming directly at his bruised forehead.

His eyes widened, "Dabria?"

Your real name. You hadn't heard it in years, it sounded so foreign now. Your job as a spy was to adapt, and the first step to that is to forget everything you used to know to accommodate to the new environment. That meant forgetting your old name and responding just as well to the new one of the month, whipping around the moment you hear it as though you've been called that word your entire life. And now you were staring at your brother's face, sharing the same DNA, and hearing your real name.

Your eyes wandered to the small badge he wore on his shirt, what was worn nowadays to signify who was the general. Funny this is how you two were reunited.

The general was flabberghasted, staring up at you in complete shock. "Dabria, what are you doing here? It's me, Kai." He puts down his gun, no longer pointing to you, though you keep the beam trained on him, your face blank and devoid of emotion. "Where have you been? What are you doing here? Say something, it's me-"

"Kai," you say simply. "I know. I'm not an idiot. But I'm sorry to do this to you general, but I'm afraid you're a bit of an inconvenience..." You murmur the last part, moving your hand closer to the watch, prepared to shoot him between the eyes.

This was a setback. Your own brother knew you were on the enemy team, and you couldn't risk him blowing your cover, not when you were so close to Jungkook. You were already so, so close to finding the information or files, and you couldn't let your blasted long lost brother screw that up for you.

"Goodbye," you grin, your hand directly on the button.

"Min Jun," a voice came called behind you. You turned your head, your thumb still on the button and the laser still pointed directly at Kai. Jungkook approached you, ducking behind the rubble and scooping up the gun from Kai's clutch, a grin spread across his face.

"Want me to shoot, General?" you asked him, clenching your jaw as you waited for his command. You knew he was close. Figures.

"No, let him go," Jungkook smiled, lowering your hand. "I'd advise you head back to headquarters, sir. You might just lose your head..."

Kai was stunned but immediately scrambled up, running into the chaos as he disappeared. You glared at Jungkook, crouching down as you hissed to him, "What were you doing? We could've easily made this war ten times easier and end quicker!" Of course, you already knew the answer, but you couldn't spill the fact that Kai was your brother, and that would perhaps unravel all other lies you've told.

"Doll, if I wanted the war to be over, it would've ended more than half a decade ago," Jungkook snickered, shaking his head. "Nothing's more fun or thrilling than war. I've got this in the palm of my hand- I always have. So why not enjoy it?"

He was the type who clearly liked to play with his food. You narrowed your eyes, shrugging. "You're the general," you hissed, peeking around the rubble. "It seems like the enemy's retreating..."

It was true, soldiers were running back, looking at whatever device was giving the notification to retreat, shooting behind them as they desperately ran back. Your side was still shooting at them, knocking a few down as they crashed to the ground. Your side began celebrating as soon as they were out of sight, and Jungkook grinned in amusement.

"Guess General Kai was pretty shaken by what just happened, I'm surprised he let his guard down, he's never been caught like that before," Jungkook murmured, chuckling. His eyes flicker to yours. "How do you know him? He seemed to recognize you, pretty confused once I got here."

"Just a bastard who eventually killed my parents," you bluffed, irritated by the fact that you had to deal with a problem involving your nuisance brother. "That's why I went to the enemy, I'd rather be here."

"Hm," Jungkook hummed, cocking his head to you. "Fair enough. I'll say, you fight better than I expected. I was half suspecting you to get shot in the head, but I'm pleasantly surprised. Perhaps I'll reward you once we're back at headquarters."

You partially found yourself looking forward to the prospect, thinking that perhaps you needed to blow off some steam.

Jungkook was fully pressed against you, his chest flushed against your back, hands buried in your underwear as his fingers moved skillfully against your clit, rubbing it in small, frantic circles. You were whining desperately, biting down on your lip as he kept your squirming figure in place.

You two had stowed away in his office, where often snooty officials came to ask how the war was coming along, and whether or not he'd be able to overthrow your brother. And here you were, between his legs as he leaned back against a dusty desk, your head thrown back against Jungkook's shoulder. His lips were busy kissing along the column of your exposed neck, the sleeve of the shirt you changed into dipping down to expose your bare shoulder.

"Jungkook..." you shuddered, your lower lip buried between your teeth. Fuck, he was good. But this room was so dusty, it was clear it hadn't been used in weeks. You could successfully rule this place out as a place that held any documents and such for strategies, seeing as to the strategy they used for the recent battle- where you still had some blood on your cheeks and hands from, since you were unable to wash up after quickly changing in order for Jungkook to drag you over to some office, undoubtedly for scandalous purposes. No, you were still set on thinking it was hidden in the bedroom. The sex wall turned out to be hiding various weapons and such, so just imagine the possibilities for where he could've hidden the information you needed.

There was some pounding against the door, making you jolt in Jungkook's arms. He growled against your neck, sucking tentatively as his other hand crept up to your neck, choking you to keep you silent, his hand starting to move down, circling along your entrance slowly, gathering some of your wetness on the pads of his fingertips. More knocks against the door sounded now. "General Jeon!" a raspy voice sounded out. Sounded like an older man, over middle age is what you assumed. "General Jeon, I wish to speak with you."

Jungkook's grip tightened, and you felt your face start to get red as he plunged his fingers inside of you, diving in by the knuckles, giving you no mercy. It was an easy slide in, your arousal giving him an easier access inside. You wanted to mewl out as he began pumping his fingers into you, the palm of his hand slapping against your heat, but his tight grip prevented you from making a single sound. He ignored the man.

"Jeon, I know you're in there, a nurse said she witnessed someone come in," the man gruffly said. "Sir, why don't you stop acting like a brat and answer your elder?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, continuing to ram his fingers into you, small lewd sounds that couldn't be heard from the door, and yet were clear in your own ears. Your face was red, and you felt as though you couldn't breathe. The pounding against the door didn't stop, and the old man grew irritated.

"Open up already, insolent brat!" the old man grumbled. "We're in the middle of a war, I've got business to discuss!" He slammed his fist against the door again.

"Old bitch doesn't know when to get lost," Jungkook hisses, gritting his teeth. "I'd kill him if I got a chance, but the bastard's the one who lets me get away with things."

He lets go of your neck, letting your lungs fill with air once again as you're thrown in a coughing fit. You double over, Jungkook's fingers still moving inside you, and you sputter and gasp for breath. Jungkook doesn't bother letting you catch your breath properly once again, and he reaches over, grabbing your jaw and gruffly snapping you back up to a standing position, where he ran his lips over your bare skin once again.

"Tell him I'm occupied," he murmured in your ear, teeth gently brushing over your neck. Your breath hitched as he let go of your jaw, and you felt his fingers curl inside of you, his palm digging into your clit in a delicious manner.

"JEON!" the old man roared, slamming his fist twice against the door. "I know you're in there!"

"H-He's busy!" you gasped out, your breath still uneven as you tried desperately to catch it.

"Are you bringing whores in your office now?!" the man exclaimed, his voice more so filled with shock than anger.

"Not just any whore," Jungkook chuckled softly in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. "Isn't that right, doll?"

"C-Can you leave a message?" you say, struggling to keep focus of mind as Jungkook continues his skillful tactics, his fingers slipping out of you to run along your folds, rubbing you gently as they grazed tauntingly across your clit. His every touch was like liquid fire along your core.

"You've got to be shitting me right now..." the man mumbled. Jungkook was chuckling now, muffling his laugh as he gently started to bite down on your shoulder, his fingers now pressing down on your clit, the frantic circles making you want to roll your eyes back.

"Tell General Jeon we need to discuss the new strategies for our battle at Bruquesia, because the enemy is nearing one of our weaker sections, and we also need to go over the trade deal with China."

Jungkook sharply bit down on your shoulder, and you squealed, yelping as you bucked into his hand, and he started to rub you in a furious pace. You knew you were bleeding now, his teeth breaking the skin, and his lips departed from the wound to continue leaving hickeys and marks along your neck.

"Yes sir!" you exclaimed, your voice whiny and pleading, wildly bucking into Jungkook's hand to reach your high. You glanced over your shoulder as Jungkook nibbled on your ear, seeing some of the red already dripping down to your sleeve. Jungkook's lips returned to the wound, his tongue lapping over the blood as he tried to lick up every last drop. You were a quivering mess in his arms, his fingers twirling into your clit as you felt your orgasm approach. "Right away, s-sir."

And there it was, with Jungkook licking up your blood in some crazed frenzy, as though he could get drunk off of it, and his fingers making your legs shake, your orgasm washed over you. You bit down on your lip so hard, you pierced your skin, resulting in drawing blood. Jungkook let go of you as you yelped from the fresh wound you yourself created and spinning you around, he pinned you against the desk, his eyes glued directly on the droplets of blood forming on your lip.

He attached his lips to yours, angrily sucking as you felt small pricks of pain. His eyes- blown out with lust- were now screwed shut, and his tongue ran over your lower lip. He wasn't asking for entrance, he simply hungered for the delectable liquid to spread on his taste buds.

"JEON!" the man pounded against the door. "For fuck's sake just tell me whether or not you understand."

Jungkook pulled back, rolling his eyes, clearly aggravated because the old man wouldn't leave the two of you alone. He pushed himself off of you, his eyes burning and his jaw clenched, and he made his way to the door, unlocking and yanking it open.

"Message received," Jungkook growled. "Though it could've waited. We'll discuss it tonight if it's so necessary."

The man- who you assumed correctly on- huffed, puffing out his chest. He was an officer or leader of some sort, and clearly, he wasn't too fond of Jungkook's recklessness at the moment. He narrowed his eyes- small and beady like a crow's- and crossed his arms. "Good. Now, I'd advise for you to put your superiors first before this foolery, Jeon. You might be secure in your position, but you must still respect the people who put you up there." He nodded to the boy, stomping off in another direction.

You fixed your clothing, trying to look presentable and tidier than before, tasting the blood on your tongue and quite aware of how the blood seeped through your shirt as you yanked your sleeve over it.

"I'll have his family killed," Jungkook muttered in a bored manner, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "How disrespectful he is. But I suppose his family being involved in crossfire wouldn't be so disappointing. Pity, his little boy would've made a good soldier."

"Hm?" you hummed, confused by his murmuring.

"I'll be right back, the order was just sent, so stay here," Jungkook mumbled once more, departing as he swiftly exited the room. You watched as he left, then turning to scan the room. Nothing particularly interesting here, and there was no way someone like Jungkook would keep anything of real value in a boring office. If there was one thing you gathered from your intel on him was that he wasn't the sit-down type of guy.

You walked along the shelves, analyzing the names on the spines, pointless books that looked like quite a bore. You'd go to his bedroom yourself, but there was no way for you to gain access to the entrance that required Jungkook's DNA- one thing you couldn't provide just yet. You weren't worried about bugs or cameras in the room since this was often a place to discuss business.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and immediately you grabbed it, yanking the body forward and kicking under their legs, shoving them down on the floor. You stared down at none other than your co-agent, Jennie.

"Well well well, looks like someone's been busy," Jennie snickered, staring up at you. "Funny that you didn't mention the fact that you were the sister of General Kai- guess that explains a few things, huh?"

Jennie. She was always the person just one step behind you, who didn't cheat at her goals or in training and considered you the dreaded jewel of the agency, hating your guts for finding ways to top her. She wanted this mission, it was well known, but you sniped it beneath her nose, thankfully. Truthfully, you found enjoyment in watching the small part of her shrivel behind her eyes as she watched you take her place and top her again and again- it truly made you feel the power you stole from others.

And now word seemed to have gotten around about your brother. Pity. Of course your stupid brother would screw things up for you, you should've killed him on the spot.

"If you're planning to sabotage me with this information, and to steal my place, I regret to inform you that you're too late," you reply snidely, your voice like steel. "I've succeeded so far to getting close to Jeon."

"I'm not here to sabotage your mission," Jennie says bitterly, her eyes narrowed. "I've been sent here on a mission by your brother himself."

"Oh, you blew my brother?" you laugh. "I swear I'll shoot you in the stomach if you end up being my sister in law."

"I'm not blowing anybody, I'm not like you," she hissed. "I actually get my position honestly, not through humping my way to the top."

"That's probably why you're not blowing anybody," you grinned. "Not because you've got pride, it's because you're a cold bitch no one wants to fuck, isn't it?"

Jennie fumed, her cheeks reddening. "I ought to smash your head into the desk."

"If I recall correctly, you're the one on the floor right now," you laugh. "You might not have cheated for your position, but there's still a reason I'm the top agent. Anyways, what'd my idiot brother want?"

"After finding out you were here, he tried to find out what happened to you, and found out you're part of our agency," Jennie said. "So he sent me to see how you are and if you have any progress on your mission."

"I'm fine, so you can leave," you say, waving your hand dismissively.

"And do you have the information on General Jeon? Or more importantly, his strategies?" Jennie quirked a brow, her eyes icy.

"I haven't gotten to it yet, but I'm close," you reply.

"Really?" she smiles, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm working on it," you narrow your eyes. "So wipe that shit eating grin off your face, I'll get the information. One way or another, that is."

"Alright, though I'll still be keeping an eye on you," she warns, getting up as she turns back towards the door, her eyes menacing. "Just in case they need someone to complete the mission after you fail..."

You wouldn't regret killing her, that was for sure.

Buzzing. You heard a quiet buzzing sound beside you. Jungkook's arm was curled around you, his hold strong and firm, the palm of his hand pressed flat against your stomach even in his sleep. You stared down, noticing a light glowing from his hand, illuminating partially against your shirt.

You were positively bewildered, unsure what to make of it. Staring down at how the light was projected against the fabric of your shirt, you felt the tiny vibrations coming directly from the hand. You nudged Jungkook with your elbow, the boy waking up almost instantly to look at you.

"Your hand," you spoke, your voice a mere grumble because of how early in the morning it was.

Jungkook released you from his tight grip, staring at the palm of his left hand, turning it away from you. It seemed to glow in an unnatural way, and you were surprised when he poked it. He pressed it against his ear, his voice groggy. "This better be a fucking emergency, or I'll throw you to the ditch myself."

He was talking to his hand? It seemed as though he was using it as a phone, but that would mean that he was cybernetically enhanced. And if he was... oh dear God, you were sleeping with a cyborg. But how did you not notice before this?

Murmuring emitted from the young man's hand, and he nodded along. "Oh really? Where's she now? Fine, I'll be there in a few minutes, let me just-" He paused, as though listening to something shocking. "What does she have to do with this?"

You stayed silent, still as can be, not daring to move a muscle as you observed his expressions. He nodded. "We'll be down there in a minute." He pokes at his hand, and the glow disappears.

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you and Jungkook looks to you with expectation.

"So," you cough. "You're... a cyborg?"

"Partially," Jungkook admits. "When I was twelve I lost a hand and a few other major injuries. They did everything they could to save me so that I could perform properly in battles- though I'm sure I wouldn't even be stumped one way or another, they were overreacting. But needless to say, they gave me a new hand, though installed with a cell phone where I could store a database and such- though I typically just use it for emergencies or phone calls. I haven't had to use it recently- unless you count just now. I also got a few new ribs and a new liver. No one really needs to know really- you know those who believe the 'freaks of technology' are meant to serve."

He laughs at that part. "Meanwhile they're serving me or being crushed beneath my feet. So the irony of that is quite satisfying, in my opinion."

"I'm surprised you're telling me all of this," you remark, wary.

"Well, your trustworthiness is about to be tested," Jungkook says, side-glancing to you.

You show no reaction, your face stony. "Does this have anything to do with that phone call?"

"Yes," Jungkook admits. "They said they caught a girl sneaking into one of the offices, trying to hack into the software. Apparently she's a spy of the enemy, and apparently, she's linked to you."

You hum. Fucking Jennie, of course she'd throw you under the bus because of her sloppy handiwork. She couldn't handle herself, so she decided to be petty and attempt to drag you with her. She couldn't be patient by waiting for you to complete your mission, so she decided to try and snipe it under your nose, completing it herself. And she got caught in the act, figures.

"She was impersonating a nurse," Jungkook mentions, "and insisted that 'the general's mistress' was her accomplice."

"Do you believe it?" you ask him.

"I can never be too careful," he eyes you warily. "Your folk are at times unpredictable. But I won't care what happens- though it'd be a shame if you died in the midst of us getting to know each other." He smiles at that last part.

You shrug, acting as though you had nothing to worry about. "Well, I know I've done nothing wrong, and I'm certainly no one's accomplice. So what's going to happen to the liar?"

"You'll find out," Jungkook promises. "After all, you're coming with me."

Before long you found yourself walking (in your pajamas) down to what you assumed were the 'torture chambers', where instead of the dark, bleak, and dank dungeon that you were expecting, it resembled something similar to a hospital. The walls, floors, and ceilings were white, and in each room was a window to peer at the victims, either weeping in their sleep or being tortured as you walked past. It was creepy and ominous, and Jungkook was lead by a man to a particular room.

Jennie was strapped to a chair, kicking wildly and shaking the chair, almost causing it to topple over. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and it was evident she had already been badly beaten. You hadn't seen her in weeks since the confrontation in the office. The idiot couldn't even last that long. "You said you'd let me go if I told the truth!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"

Jungkook and the man slowly approached her, and her eyes were glued with yours. "Dabria! You fucking bitch- she's the accomplice! She's also a spy in the agency, and she's trying to-"

"I think you've got me confused with someone else," you reply snidely. "For one, my name's Min Jun, not Dabria. Secondly, I'm no spy, and third, I've never seen you before in my life."

"You're such a liar," Jennie laughed bitterly, blood spewing out to dribble down her chin. "You're the one who's supposed to be in this chair, not me." She cries some more, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Let me go, please, let me go! I want to go to my family, I want to see them one more time. I don't want to die, please please please, I'll do anything! I want to live, I want to live so badly, there are so many things I haven't done yet-"

Jungkook interrupted her with a sharp slap to the face, ceasing the whining and begs immediately. Jennie's head swung to the side, the sound of his palm smacking against her cheek sounding throughout the room, and she was silent, her hair covering her face as she bitterly wept, knowing it was pointless. She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and no one here would help her.

You cock your head, thinking back to what she said earlier. "I'm supposed to be in that chair, huh? But I've done nothing wrong, have I?"

"What would your brother think?" Jennie says weakly, sounding as though her throat was swelling as she looked up at you, tears spilling from her eyes as she gave you a pitiful expression. Her eyes were so red and swollen already, and she seemed so desperate. Weak. Pathetic. The thought delighted you seeing her crumble. "God, Dabria, please. I know we've never gotten along but have mercy! We're on the same team. Your brother's team!"

"I have no brother. You have me confused for another rat."

Jungkook smirks, chuckling. "Well, isn't this a delightful little show?"

You turn to him, the annoyance evident on your face. "May I leave? I'm certainly no spy."

"I told you before, doll, I can never be too careful," Jungkook laughs. He snaps his fingers to the man, calling him forward. "Do you have a weapon on you?"

The man, steps forward, handing over a small pocket knife. He places it in Jungkook's hand, who in turn hands it to you, his eyes glittering with curiosity. "Prove your loyalty," Jungkook commands.

You flip the knife over in your hand, examining the blade and handle. The wooden handle had little stars carved into it. You glance up at Jungkook. "What do you mean?"

Jennie was wildly shaking her head, more tears prickling her eyes. "Please, no, no, not like this, please-"

"Kill her," Jungkook said simply. "If she's telling the truth, why would you kill someone in the same organiz-"

Without further delay, you throw the knife, landing it perfectly between Jennie's brows. Her expression of shock is frozen as the knife is buried hilt deep, perhaps even getting into the skull with the force you used to throw it. Blood drips from the wound, and her head tips forward.

You turn back to Jungkook. "Still need me to prove my loyalty?" In reality, you were glad to jump at the opportunity to get rid of that nuisance.

Jungkook wears a look of surprise, and his smile grows and etches on his features. "No," he chuckles. "I think we're done here."

Jungkook's hands were slamming down on your bare ass, and you let out hisses of delight, clenching your jaw as you sucked in air through your gritted teeth. The sound of his palms slapping against the skin of your ass filled the room, and you let out small yelps of delight. You were currently laying on your stomach, Jungkook straddling your thighs, and you felt your skin sting.

You turn your head to the side, your hands pressed flat beside your head as you craned to look at Jungkook, only seeing his eyes light up in a sadistic manner, his grin wide. "Jungkook," you whined, your voice husky.

"Your skin looks so pretty when it's red," Jungkook muses, ignoring your small whine. "I've got a present for you doll... I think you'll like it."

"Can I use it on you?" you challenged, smirking. Jungkook slapped your ass again in response, making you yelp and bury your face in the sheets.

"Funny," Jungkook murmured. "But I have other plans." He gets off of you, and you feel somewhat relieved to have the pressure off of you. Jungkook opens a nightstand drawer, holding a shiny-clean, sparkling knife. It wasn't just any knife, however. You recognized the small etchings of stars in the handle, recognizing it as the same blade used on Jennie mere days ago.

"Are you aware what knife play is?" he questions you, twirling the blade in his hand.

Of course, you had already done your research on various kinks that seemed to be in his field, and you had already practiced getting used to the blood when you made tiny cuts along your ankles. "I am," you spoke, eyeing the blade. "Is that clean, though?"

"I made sure to have it thoroughly cleaned," Jungkook assured you, placing his finger over the tip, letting it bounce gently. "You don't have to worry about infections."

You stared at the blade, taking in exactly what it meant. It was what you used to prove your false-loyalty. It was used to take a life, and now- almost as though in irony- it would be used for sexual pleasure.

You took a deep breath. "Alright."

Jungkook quirked a brow. "Alright, what?"

"I'll let you use that on me," you spoke. "I trust you." Of course, you didn't really, but if he didn't think he had your trust, how were you to keep his? Besides, this would perhaps be your last trial.

Jungkook grinned at your words, his hand skimming over your back as he made sure you were pressed firmly against the bed. "This might hurt," Jungkook warned, a chuckle in his tone. "And I think I'll certainly enjoy it."

He pressed the flat of the blade against your skin, letting it drag tauntingly, the cool metal making you shiver with anticipation and slight fear. You were nervous, admittedly, but bit your tongue, determined to get through it.

His hand took on a more soothing atmosphere as he pressed against you, firm on your hip instead of digging his nails in to ram into you. And then you felt it. The small cut that made you hiss, gripping at the sheets as pain pricked from the blade. He dragged it, making small lines, his moves slow and precise. You could practically feel the warm blood bubble up from the lines, and from the erection pressing against your thigh as Jungkook straddled your legs once again, you were sure that he was more than enjoying it.

He drew more lines, and it didn't take you long to figure out that he was writing down characters. He dared to move a little faster instead of dragging it, and you found yourself biting down on the sheets of the bed to stifle any noise, letting the pain simmer on your lower back. Jungkook would let out small, tasteful hums, moving the blade to cut your skin. You guessed he wasn't going deep enough to scar or to cut into the flesh, but definitely enough to at least break the skin.

"My little whore's getting a tramp stamp," Jungkook laughs, placing the blade to the side, and you let out a breath of relief to know he was finished. "My own name branded into her skin. How do you like it, doll?"

"I love it if you do," you spoke, feeling some of the warm liquid start to dribble down your side. Jungkook's fingers tried scooping it up, dragging the pads of his fingers over your skin, smearing it like paint along a blank canvas. You let out a small whimper as his fingers brushed over the cuts, and he let out a small hiss of satisfaction. Pain prickled along your skin with every touch as he admired how the red looked along your skin, and before you knew it he was holding out two fingers in front of you, the slender digits smeared with the alluring red.

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, letting your tongue twirl around the digits to lap up the liquid, the taste of salt and blood lingering on your buds as you continued your ministrations. Jungkook grinned, petting your hair affectionately as you cleaned your blood from his fingers. "Do you like the taste?" he asks you. It somewhat reminded you of copper, like when someone would try to bite down on a penny to see if it were real. That's what it tasted like to you.

"Yes," you say, licking your lips. Jungkook's eyes lit up in delight as he stared at you, smiling as he got off of you.

"Spread your legs, doll," he said in an airy voice, quickly yanking down his pants as he licked his lips. "If I don't fuck you now, I'll go mad."

Obediently, you got on all fours, spreading your legs wide as you arched your back, feeling some of the red liquid still dripping down in the direction of your spine. Jungkook's hand trailed along with the blood, as though he were finger painting, and the warm liquid continued to smear along your back. You moved your hair to the side as Jungkook dragged you closer, hooking his other hand around your inner thigh, getting your ass closer to his crotch.

He directed himself to your entrance, admiring the way the red smeared against your back. This really turned him on, you could tell, and he was absolutely riveted by the scenery. From how your face twisted with pain to how the blade pierced your skin, he enjoyed every second of it. He taunted you, running his length between your cheeks slowly as though to tease you. Without further ado, he pushed himself into you, a sharp snap of the hips as he thrust into you abruptly.

You let out a yelp, feeling how he directed himself at the certain angle you were familiar with already. After sleeping with him for various weeks, he seemed to already know exactly what made your toes curl, just as you knew what really got him off in bed. He continued to pump himself into you, a brutal and singular pace, not sparing you any mercy. He knew you could handle it.

He plowed through you, hands now both on your shoulders to press you down, and he let out throaty grunts. You moaned, though it was muffled from how your face was buried in the sheets. Jungkook's hand tangled in your hair, pressing your face deeper into the mattress as he slammed his length into you, cutting off any air for you.

You reached back, the pads of your fingers skimming over the warm blood, and you fumbled to palm at the wounds, trying to cover your hand and fingers in the red liquid. You grunted into the sheets, running your bloodied hand over your ass and down your thigh, causing Jungkook to have harder thrusts as he buried himself deeper into you.

"Fuck," he cursed out at the sight as your bloody hand landed back beside your head, and he continued to pummel into you. "God, you have no idea what you do to me," he grunts.

You whine in response, moaning into the sheets as your clean hand wandered between your legs, vigorously rubbing your clit in a hurried fashion, Jungkook's pace increasing as you did so. You wanted to reach your high, the fire in your lungs and Jungkook's singular snaps of the hips slowly pushing you over the edge.

It was nearing, and you felt your stomach tighten, your orgasm coming close. You found yourself being washed over in white hot bliss, and you went limp beneath Jungkook as he proceeded to use your body like a sex-doll, thrusting in and out of you as he chased his own high.

Before long, he was cumming inside of you, his hot seed filling you. Usually, he'd pull out and cum on you, either on your face, back, or tits. But your back was currently covered in blood, and your tits and face weren't exactly facing him. You didn't worry about it, however, instead raising your face slowly from the sheets, breathing hard as you let the oxygen fill your lungs.

You felt so tired. So, so tired. But you knew that tonight, you'd have to stay awake.

Jungkook was fast asleep, and you had woven yourself out of his arms to go to the restroom, where you opened a drawer that had your contacts. These were the type that only certain spies carried around, but it certainly wasn't the typical prescription type. These were one of the six made by American scientists, and your officials thought your mission was important enough to lend them to you.

These were the type that would allow you to hack into any electronic device, which you used to frame the nurse all those weeks ago for the various murders you committed. You were right in a sense about the information you needed being stored in Jungkook's bedroom- but only because he was sleeping there now. There was a big possibility it was actually in his hand, where he was carrying it around all along, that you let use you in various ways.

You didn't do this before because you needed to let any of Jungkook's further suspicions of you die down after you killed Jennie, waiting for the perfect time to strike. You couldn't do it any later, for tomorrow morning there would apparently be another battle. Slowly you popped the contact lens in your left eye, returning beside Jungkook, staring down at his hand.

A red outline of the device hidden inside showed, and various screens appeared. You were thankful that the agency helped teach you about computers and such, as you dove deeper into the device, more screens popping up before your eyes until a green screen appeared, bright text as you put in various code with single movements of your pupils darting around the room. This technology was certainly the future, thought it wouldn't be released for a very, very long time.

You finally accessed it, finding various documents and sketches for the strategies and government secrets. Trades for weapons, when and where, and exactly what. Everything you needed to stop the war was right here, and you didn't hesitate as you sent it to headquarters. You didn't leave a single digital footprint, and as you popped out the lens and put it back into the holder, you marveled over the fact that you just destroyed Jungkook's high chance of winning, crumbling and smashing it into smithereens. The room was calm compared to all of the chaos you single-handedly unleashed, and you grinned thinking about what could happen, and what just did.

And there he laid, perfectly still, resting peacefully. He had absolutely no clue that you obliterated his hopes and dreams, and you thought about what a shame it was that such an interesting character would meet his doom because he let the wrong girl in bed. Perhaps he didn't think about the fact that you were too good to be true, a too perfect fit. Shame, really, he was cocky for good reasons. It would be a pity to see his end. And yet what a spectacular show you were sure it'd be.

And you nestled back into his arms, a smug grin on your face as you waited for the morning to approach, signaling the beginning of the day when Junkook lost it all.

You had convinced Jungkook you were rather incapable of walking when he tried to drag you into another battle, and the moment you heard news of him and his troops being on the battlefield, you rejoiced. You took wine bottles and filled them in your backpack, taking a few belongings as you prepared to depart. You had already managed to contact the agency after you sent the information, and they were on their way to send you back to headquarters.

You were currently climbing out of the window, fixing to walk along the walls and jump from window to window to sneak to the second level. You gripped on the window, latching onto the edge as you swung down to the window below, that had a small tarp hanging over it for shade, which you gripped on to swing yourself closer to the glass, tightly holding onto the sides to stabilize yourself. You proceeded to jump to the window on your right, climbing down to jump on another ledge. You repeated the process, not wanting any of the cameras on the inside to see you until you got to your escort.

It must've taken hours, but you were patient, knowing that the escort would have to wait for you and that you had time. Finally, when you dove into the second floor (after successfully prying the window open with great difficulty), you landed on your feet, staring down at the body of a dead man, blood pooling around his corpse, his throat having a deep gash in it.

You stared up, and before you could so much as process what had happened you felt a sharp prick in your shoulder, and you lids began to close.

You wanted to die. There was so much pain, and you had barely been kept alive for a week, being put through agonizing pain as Jungkook toyed with you again and again. You remember just a week ago, when he showed your contacts, waving them in front of your face before slapping you, his eyes blazing. You had taken everything from him, so now he'd take your life away from you.

Your face was the only thing that wasn't harmed since he insisted he wanted to 'keep you pretty'. The very first day, he brought out that same knife, a grin on his face accompanied with a sadistic glimmer in his eye. He wanted to mark you more permanently, and you screamed and tried to kick as he carved his name into your inner arm, going deep into the flesh, letting the blood go everywhere. But that was only the beginning, and you constantly found yourself on the verge of death. You wanted it to be over already.

Apparently, when they were defeated, Jungkook was pushed into humiliating surrender, thus determining his own fate. He was set to be killed- already being hunted down by the families and hunters that wanted revenge for his atrocious acts. He didn't care, simply dragging you away to spend his final moments with your own, putting you through agonizing pain as he toyed with your life, taking his revenge.

You wanted to laugh in his face for being so petty. He lost, he should get over it. You were a spy who had duped him by sneaking into his bed, and the idiot was too blind that he ignored all the warning signs. But he unleashed his anger on you, where your skin was black and blue, and your 'pretty face' was the only thing recognizable about you anymore.

The hardest parts were when he was gone, and you were left alone with your pain, completely alone. You thought about what led you down this path, what had caused it to all come down this. Why were you here? Why had this happened to you?

But you weren't an idiot. You knew what you did. You were no better than Jungkook in that aspect, having no mercy or empathy, using others for your own sadistic needs. You didn't care for anyone other than yourself. Turns out Jennie was right, you were the one who deserved to be in that chair. And you were sitting in it now. You deserved this death. It was the exact opposite of that nurse's who you framed so long ago. Her death was quick, painless, and public. Yours was slow, painful, and private.

Every time Jungkook came back to repeat your session, he'd shoot back snooty comments that you said to him when you first met.

"And here we have but a simple nurse," he mocked. "Dabria. She's getting what she deserves, and no one can cower when justice is being served, isn't that right? After all, the enemy isn't one to be pitied."

You glared at him in response. Why couldn't he just kill you already? It had been seven days. You wanted death. You wanted the pain to stop. You wanted everything to stop.

"She has no reason to fear me, isn't that right?" He yanked your head, craning your neck as he quirked a brow, a small smirk on his face. "After all, she likes this, doesn't she? Isn't that right, doll?" He yanks on your hair harder, making you wince.

"How dirty," he tsks, shoving your head back forward, and you cough up blood. You glare at him as he walks back to the front, bending down to meet your eye level, cocking his head to the side. "You've earned this. You know you have. The one who was so cocky is now nothing but a pathetic mess."

He slaps you again- the only abuse he'd do towards your face- and your head swung to the side. You were limp, letting your head hang limply in front, not offering up a fight. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care about anything other than death.

"Giving up so easily, doll?" he mocked, smiling. "You're no fun."

You didn't respond, and he sighs in disappointment, taking his hand and tilting your head up to stare at him. You glare, the once menacing and piercing gaze now seeming weak and pitiful. Jungkook smiled at that, reaching for the gun on the table.

"I think they've found me, doll. They'll probably try to kill me tomorrow. I suppose I'll just have to change what I look like and move to another location to start over. I don't know, it's my first time in this situation- after all, whoever heard of duping a god? So I'm afraid our fun's over," he shook his head. "Pity, too. You were my favorite, ironically. But it was too good to be true, wasn't it?"

Silence.

"And you used to be so chatty," Jungkook murmurs. "Now, tell me, last words?"

"Fuck you," you spat, using the last of your strength to spit in his eye, a small mixture of saliva and blood. He wipes his eye in disgust, rolling his eyes once it's out. He cocks his gun, squeezing your cheeks together to part your lips.

"Open wide, doll," he chuckles lowly. He shoves the gun between your teeth, and you taste the cool metal and unexpected grease, causing you to gag.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you met your untimely end.

[kingofthenorth49]

Enemy of the State

I woke up on November 4th allegedly an enemy of the people.

Now I didn’t do anything differently than I did on the 3rd, but that morning when I awoke I knew things were going to get weird based on what I was seeing in the media.

Now keep in mind I haven’t any trust in the mainstream media. Zero. None. Zilch. They have eroded that trust over the last decade or so for me, to the point I realize they are no longer news outlets, but rather 24 hour a day propaganda machines.

By now, many of you reading likely thought “Conspiracy theorist” or his tin foil hat is on too tight again. Didn’t you.

You don’t have to answer, I know that’s exactly what 50% of you are thinking as you read this. That’s how you have been programmed to think over the past 20 years, you are part of a cult you didn’t realize you had joined. Think about it. As North American’s (and I have to use that term because sitting here in Canada today my reference group is so enthralled with US politics they aren’t even watching what is going on in their own country) we are equally divided in our thinking.

And that is exactly what they want. A society divided is easier to conquer, and right now we are ripe for the picking. The last bastion against Marxism is fighting a death match I never believed I’d get to see during my short stint on this planet.

While the Coronavirus is real, the plandemic is not. It’s manufactured. I’m not talking about the virus, that’s beyond the edges of my aluminum chapeaux, I’m talking about the world’s approach to managing it. It’s all part of a plan to convert the world over to a One World Government.

Fear is the greatest motivator know to the human species and beyond. A field mouse being stalked by a hawk is acutely aware of everything going on around him as he literally runs for his life. Every action and reaction is measured against the knowledge that one wrong move and he becomes the object of desire of a stronger power. It’s the fight or flight response that has kept species alive for millions of years.

We’ve just had our fight response beaten out of us by those who wish to possess us, or rather possess the output of our labor.

Power is the drug of the greedy. Just look around you to see it. You only need look at the likes of Nancy Pelosi to see it. It’s for thee, but not for me. I say that a lot because I see it a lot. I see our elected officials set two levels of standards as they rule. One set of standards is for us, the working class, and the other set of standards are for them, the ruling class. Nancy’s trip to the beauty salon is one example that comes to mind. Let’s break it down for the people in the back.

For those who don’t know Nancy, she’s the 80+ year old speaker of the house, and one of the most powerful democrats in the United States. Nancy’s been in Washington a long time, she knows where the bodies are literally buried. She’s powerful, wealthy, and doesn’t give a rats-ass about you. She’s all about Nancy. So in the middle of this plandemic, Nancy needs to get her hair done for her next ice cream photo op and even though beauty salon’s are ordered closed under public health order, Nancy’s staff arrange for a salon to open to touch up the speakers locks.

Now as someone who cut their own hair for almost 3 months, I can understand the desire to have the professionals take care of things, but at the same time as a leader I understand the need to lead with integrity and not set a double standard. Nancy, not so much. Somehow a video gets released showing Nancy waltzing thought the salon between the shampoo and color, not only in direct contravention of the law shutting down these services, but sans face mask.

Now a little lapse in safety decorum amongst co-conspirators could be overlooked had it not been that Nancy had just days before been on the news berating the President for not wearing a mask and selfishly endangering the lives of others’. It was carried by every network for days.

Get it yet? It’s for thee, not for me. A double standard isn’t a double standard if your in power. They feel they are above the rest of us. But it gets worse.

When the mainstream media is forced to pick up the story a day later, the response from the Pelosi people is that Nancy was set up by the salon owner.

Are you fucking kidding me? This is how the 3rd most powerful leader in the United States responded to being caught in the act violating the very laws she enacted? The worst part of all of this was most of you all accepted it because it fit the narrative you’ve been programmed to accept. Be honest with yourself. You simply accepted that Nancy was the victim in this situation because Trump.

This is but one example of this type of entitlement. The Governor if Michigan’s husband got caught going boating during a lockdown. Prime Minster Trudeau got caught breaching ethics rules twice, and is under investigation for two more. No other sitting Prime Minister in the history of Canada has ever been chastised for lacking ethics except for the current returning resident of 22 Sussex Drive. They destroyed all the evidence of the WE scandal and it never really even made the news.

I’ll make you a bet right now, that if I refuse to pay my taxes this year, I’ll not collect $200 and I’ll go directly to jail. If you’ve ever stood before a judge accused of a crime, it’s the most sober humbling moment of your life. Our problem is getting them in front of one.

Am I making sense yet?

Hillary had a private email server. She deleted 30,000+ emails as Secretary of State. Her and her husband Bill made hundreds of millions of dollars as public officials. Bill raped a woman in Arkansas and paid her off with $400,000.00. But there’s no one holding them to account.

Barrack Obama and Eric Holder ran fast and furious. They put guns into the hands of drug cartels that eventually wound up back in the USA used to kill innocent Americans. Over a billion dollars in cash on pallets was flown to Iran in the middle of the night. But there were no scandals in his White House. Are you fucking kidding me? He used the intelligence community to spy on Trump’s campaign for Gawd’s sake, Richard Nixon had to resign as President for doing the same thing, does no one remember Watergate?

Jesus people, when will you wake the fuck up and realize you are being manipulated by those in positions of power. What is it going to take for people to stop accepting this type of behavior from those they entrust with the public purse and our freedoms.

I read The Rise of the 3rd Reich last year. It was a very sobering read to see how the Nazi party rose to power and committed atrocities against their fellow humans in the name of a better planet. I’ve seen images of the holocaust that sadden me to the very core of my being. I have always wondered how humans could treat each other like that, to strip people of their dignity, their world possessions, their families, and finally their very existence. And for what. For one persons hatred of another race. One person was able through persuasion to convince an entire population of a country to hate a group of people because they were different. They worked hard. They ran shops and factories. They worshipped together, they built strong communities. They gave back to their country and made is better. But because those in power despised them, they created hate against them and let the people turn on their fellow countrymen.

You all know the rest of the story.

Or at least I hope you do, because if you don’t, its going to happen again because it’s already happening the exact same way it did in the 1920’s in Germany. If you don’t believe me, read the book. Read the history of one example of how mankind is one of the ugliest species on the planet. Read about how they divided the country and made people hate the Jews. Hitler blamed the loss of the war, the economic downfall of Germany and the bad decisions of the Weimar Republic on Jewish capitalism. Does this sound familiar? It should.

Churchill said “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it”. Now while he didn’t invent that quote, he certainly had reason to use it. As the one person who stood up against Hitler (Thank Gawd he did) he understood completely the threat to humanity that existed in the ideology of the Nazi party.

Fuck we are stupid. That all happened in our generational life time. Our grandparents fought in that war. Our communities lost thousands of good men and women to the effort to combat the rise of Marxism and hate and protect the world against the likes of Hilter, Stalin, and Lenin.

Yet here we are.

I woke up on November 4th to hear people like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez calling for a “Truth and Accountability commission” to ensure Trump and his supporters are held to account. The talking heads were spitting vitrol and hate against 72 Million Americans who voted for Trump. On example, Washington Post columnist Jennifer Rubin tweeted that morning, “Any R now promoting rejection of an election or calling to not to follow the will of voters or making baseless allegations of fraud should never serve in office, join a corporate board, find a faculty position or be accepted into ‘polite’ society. We have a list.”

We have a list? Seriously?

Hitler had a list too.

While Trump should have had a filter between him and his twitter feed, the man did nothing to rise to the level of a dictator who had women stripped naked and shot in front of their children, before they were shot next. Are you kidding me? Are people really that stupid?

I lived in the USA during Trump’s four years. I also lived there during Obama’s eight. By any measurable metric Trump’s four years brought more prosperity to the average American than Obama’s double term, and even if you take the economy out of the equation, Trump still made life better through his approach to governance. He got three noble prize nominations for crying out loud

But no one sees that.

But this isn’t about Trump, it’s about us.

We are failing as citizens to hold our leaders to account, and when you fail to check power, well, you get what you deserve. Our leaders, both elected and self-appointed (Think Zuckerberg, Gates) are running amok and have contempt for we the people. I believe in the next 6 months those in power are going to use the pandemic as a tool to move their agenda forward and attempt to go full Marxism around the globe under the guise of a One World Government. We are already seeing our own governments in Canada moving towards that end, the death of Freedom of Speech is just one indicator. Don’t believe me? Prime Minister Trudeau recently told the country “Freedom of expression is not without limits. We do not have the right, for example, to shout ‘fire’ in a movie theatre crowded with people.”

Well dumbass, actually we do, or at least we did. The cornerstone of any free person is the right to say what ever he/she/(Insert your preferred pronoun here) wants. If you cannot say whatever you want, you are oppressed. It’s just that fucking simple. He was wrong, but he wasn’t apologetic about being wrong. He thinks he is right, and his ideology supports that, which is the ideology of the left. You can say whatever you want as long as it agrees with our ideology, otherwise we will cancel you. We will public shame you. Call you racist, a bigot, etc until you shut up.

This is where we are today, a society afraid to speak up in fear they will be cancelled, ridiculed, or shamed. This is right where they want us, in fear, alone, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wear your mask, stay home, be a good citizen. Make sure you keep an eye on your neighbor to ensure they are being good citizen’s too. After all, we are all in this together, at least until we aren’t.

Maybe I’m wrong, and I hope I am. Maybe AOC really meant those lists were to send out holiday cards thanking all those 72,000,000 American’s for doing their civic duty by voting for the person they best perceive to leader their collective ideals, to further democracy and make their country the best it can be.

It’s just too bad they picked the wrong horse.

Or did they. Will we ever know for sure? I doubt it.

In the end, a polite society who are open to freedom of speech, even if it flies in the face of our beliefs is critical to a progressive society. If we suppress thought, fail to encourage debate, and dismiss the ideas of differing opinions we will fail as a society, and when a democratic society fails, tyranny rises.

When tyranny rises, the cost to humanity is great. We cannot afford this journey again.

Anyway, I need to go spend some time with my dog. I’m pretty sure he’s a liberal, but I love him just the same. I feel the same way about my liberal friends, they just don’t drool on me as much.

Enjoy the day, but think about what you are willing to accept from our governments. If we remain quiet we have no one to blame but ourselves. Sometimes yelling fire means things are actually burning.

[kingjaffejoffer]

Sometimes its your turn to lose

I would prefer that nobody reblog this.

But this is the internet and I can’t stop yall from doing anything. So whatever. 

Something I’ve said on this blog a dozen times is the fact that I don’t believe in karma. To me, its something silly that people say to make themselves feel better when they take an L. If someone keys your car or busts out your windows and you don’t catch them... you mention karma because it gives you a little bit of power in hopes that the universe is gonna make the culprit pay. 

I don’t believe in karma because niggas like George Zimmerman and Darren Wilson are still walking down the street enjoying their lives, free as a bird even though they murdered Black people in cold blood. I don’t believe in karma because America has been committing atrocities all over the globe for 200 years and nothing has happened in retaliation, 9/11 aside (which is a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things). 

I don’t believe in karma because billions of people on earth can’t read and don’t have access to clean water and shelter. Where’s the justice for them?

That was a longwinded intro to the fact that I just took a massive L. Most people would say karma.... but I think it was just my turn to get got. 

I’ve a terrible boyfriend to most of the women in my life. 

I’m very sweet, charming, attentive, affectionate, and caring. I’ve done all the things women loved. 

Except for the fact that I always cheated. 

We can get into the reasons I cheated another time. That’s a whole 3 chapter post within itself. 

The point is. I cheated a lot, with impunity. I eventually reached the point where I didn’t want to live like that anymore. I matured to a place where I didn’t want to be a liar. I didn’t want to cause anyone any pain. I didn’t want to live a double life anymore. I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. 

So I decided that I was going to be single for the rest of my life. And last year, I finally got my wish. I was SINGLE and unapologetically a massive whore. 

It was fucking fantastic. I was single, and every woman I met, I’d let them know that I was fucking with other women and I had no intentions of ever getting into a relationship with them. I let women know from jump street what the deal was and things worked out great. You’d be surprised at what women are down with if you’re just honest and upfront from the start. 

I had a clean std test and was juggling a handful of women at a time, living the good life. 

And then....... I met her. 

She slid in my DMs on Tumblr. She wasn’t thirsty. She didn’t come into my messages with overtly sexual comments and pictures. She just introduced herself, “Hey, how are you doing?”

The conversation between us was effortless. The chemistry was flawless. We went from talking in the Tumblr messages every day. To texting. To snapchatting. 

We’d have conversations that lasted all day. and they were dope and wide ranging. 

If God came down from the heavens above and told me to design the perfect woman I wanted. The final result wouldn’t have been too different from this girl who just dropped in my lap out of nowhere on Tumblr.  We have EVERYTHING in common. 

California native

Her character and values as a woman were beyond what I could ask for. 

She’s extremely well versed in sports. She can hold substantive and meaningful conversations about the specific NBA players. 

We watched MMA and boxing together every Saturday

We both love California gangbang rap. We’d be in the car together listening to YG both lip synching the words. 

She’s well read, knocking out a book every week. 

She’s woke as FUCK. Unapologetically black.

Dark skin, natural hair.

Our views on religion were the same.

She’s college educated. 

She’s fucking beautiful. Thick in all the right places. 

She’s generous. Considerate. health conscious. 

She’s just as freaky as i am. One minute her and I are talking about environmental health and child rearing..... and 3 minutes later she’s on Snapchat taking a long piss for me so I can watch. Telling me she can’t wait until Friday so we can hang out and make love like we did every weekend. 

She came from a really good family. A two parent household. 

It didn’t take long before I was in love with her. 

I spent years wanting to be single. Wanting to be an unapologetic whore. Wanting to have a harem of women that I could call any time to do whatever I wanted.

I had all of that. And I fucking fell in love with this girl. 

And I threw it all away...... one by one. I went to my harem of women, breaking the bad news to them. Telling them that I had a girlfriend and we couldn’t have sex anymore. 

They didn’t react well. The drama that I had to endure just to get rid of all these women is enough to write a 5 chapter post on. That’s another story for another day. The point is..... I went through great lengths to make sure that I didn’t cheat this time. 

I stopped having sex with every woman on the side. I was 100% committed to this new perfect amazing woman that dropped out of the sky and into my life. 

The first time we had sex was explosive. I’ll never forget it.

We’d have long conversations about monogamy and our views on marriage, which were perfectly in sync. Neither one of us believed in marriage. We were receptive to the concept of open relationships, as long as the proper communication and guidelines were put in place beforehand. 

We’d talk about moving in together and having kids one day. I’d ask her all the questions that I felt were important. Did she believe in vaccinating kids? What kind of names did she consider? Did she plan to breast feed? What kind of schools did she like? What would we teach our kid at home?

We talked about all that shit. 

One day, a huge dent was put in the perfect fairytale relationship I had with this woman. 

I found out she was an alcoholic. I found out some other stuff too. She had been hiding it from me since the day she met me. She didn’t want me to judge her. 

I was initially bummed out. But I was so deeply and madly in love with this woman that I was like..... fuck it... no sweat. I’m going to get through this with her. 

We eventually got her enrolled in therapy sessions. As long as she was making progress toward getting better thats all I could ask for. She promised to keep her drinking under control from that day forward. That’s all I needed. 

I felt uncomfortable every time she had a glass of wine, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. Eventually we’d wean her off alcohol completely. I’ve never been in a relationship with a substance abuser/addict before, so excuse my naivite and ignorance. 

She was absolutely worth the extra work. I’ve never in my life met a woman as amazing as she is.

By the way I’ve set this story up. It’s completely obvious the way its going to end right?

Yep.

She got me. 

She played me. 

All these years of me being in control. All these years of me being the liar and the cheater and the one with 85958 women on the side. All these years of me being the one who broke hearts.

It was my turn. She played the shit out of me. 

One night she got black out drunk and I found out all kinds of stuff. I saw all the conversations of her talking to random niggas from the internet. I saw the evidence of her bussing her pussy open for niggas on snapchat. I saw the text messages of her telling niggas that she wants him and another man to both run a train on her at the same time.

That part didn’t hurt me. I’m not a jealous dude. I know that my girlfriend will find other men attractive. I know that my girlfriend will find other men sexually desirable. I know that she’s not going to go the rest of her life without wanting to fuck another man.

To keep it a buck fitty, if she would have just let me know about that from the start it wouldn’t have been a thing. 

So that part didn’t really hurt me. 

The text messages that she sent her female friends are the ones that hurt me. 

I read texts where she was telling her girlfriends that “he’s leaving tomorrow but I wish he would just leave right now”. 

I saw the texts where she told her girlfriends she could never live in a house with me because she wanted her freedom.

I saw all these text messages where the things that were a complete 180 opposite of what she would tell me.

That really hurt me. 

I have no idea why she would just lie like that for no reason. But I’m sure all of the women I’ve lied to in the past couldnt figure out why I lied to them either. 

Some people would call this karma.

But I think sometimes its just your turn to lose. Sometimes its your turn to get got. its the law of averages. The more times you roll the dice the greater chances of you getting snake eyes. 

Sometimes its your turn to take that L. 

It’s my turn right now. 

Ya boy is SICK right now. My stomach is in knots. When I swallow it feels like a lump is in my throat. My appetite is gone. I called my boss and told him I wouldn’t be at work tomorrow. I’m just going to lay int the dark and hurt. 

She got me man. 

I feel zero embarrassment publishing this on the internet, where it will surely be met with laughing emojis and all that other shit. 

None of what anyone can say will feel worse than what I’m already feeling right now. 

She got me....  I had it coming. I deserve it. 

Remember at the end of Menace II Society when Caine was like “I knew it would happen but i didnt think it would happen like this”

I didn’t publish this because i’m looking for sympathy. I dont want anyone’s pity. I really don’t care to hear anyone’s opinion at all. Don’t feel the need to send me any words of encouragement. 

Writing makes me feel better. 

it is what it is. 

I’ll be ok. 

I don’t hate her... I’m not even mad at her. Not one bit. I’ll always love her. She’s not a bad person. She’s just incapable of having a relationship right now. I know exactly what she’s going through because I used to be her. 

I gotta charge this one to the game.

[sleepymarmot]

DS9 season 1 liveblog

[Season index: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 PS]

Emissary

Wait, "kidnapped for six days"? I thought the timeframe was much tighter...

I hope Kira won't always overact so much.

I like how quickly Sisko can go from barely contained cold hatred to cheerful manipulation.

Bashir's LITERALLY FIRST LINE is flirting! I'm honestly impressed :D

Bwahaha, tell him, Kira!

...Did O'Brien change back into his old uniform just to visit the Enterprise? 

O'Brien now talks to computers just like Geordi.

Is this show going to regularly use baseball as a metaphor, like TNG did with poker? :D

This episode is a much better take on explaining humanity to an alien than "Encounter at Farpoint".

Past Prologue

The entire opening scene is just delightful -- does that even need saying?

Why does O'Brien feel so strongly about not giving the guy to the Cardassians? Has Chain of Command happened already?

Ooh, is this the encounter with the Duras sisters that will be referenced in TNG season 7, or are they going to visit DS9 again?

"Klingons have an odd sense of style, don't you agree?" -- Nah, only those two.

Drinking game: a shot every time Garak says the word "simple".

I didn't expect the show's second story to be so good!

A Man Alone

...Is every episode going to open with a scene where an older person on whom Bashir crushed within five seconds of their screentime is standing behind him and touching his shoulders?

I'm confused again, isn't the O'Brien kid a bit too old?

"Killing your own clone is still murder" -- Was this episode deliberately written as a fuck-you to Up the Long Ladder, or is it just a lucky coincidence?

Babel

What a beautiful script lol

Why aren't they at least trying to build a linguistic database? That was my first idea...

Captive Pursuit

"I'm not a barkeep" Well now I want an AU with Quark as Mrs Hudson...

"They've reversed the polarity of our shields" Sorry I just cannot take this phrase seriously...

Oh ffs, not the Prime Directive again!

Wow, this show really likes O'Brien...

Q-Less

I love the guest appearances from TNG characters! It really helps to establish the show as part of the same continuity.

Q and Vash's Doctor-companion dynamic gives me life.

Oh no, the Ferengi handjobs are back, I was wondering when it would happen...

"I like your new tailor" I thought Q meant Garak, not the change in Starfleet uniforms...

"But it's not going to be the same without you. When I look at a gas nebula, all I see is a cloud of dust. Seeing the universe through your eyes, I was able to experience wonder." I'M DYING THIS IS LITERALLY THE DOCTOR'S LINE

Dax

I was looking forward to this one! But I didn't expect the "how Trills actually work, let's forget about The Host" story to be presented as a courtroom episode, that's pretty clever.

Ah, of course whenever they talk about Dax's past relationship with a woman, they switch to third person and male pronouns -_-

I thought the wife was the murderer.

The Passenger

God, don't they have filters or oxygen masks or anything like that? 

Yoo, a possession episode! This is endearing: TNG season one sometimes felt like revisiting TOS stories with a new cast, this season does the same to TNG.

Move Along Home

Does a fourteen year old really need a strict bedtime?

Kidnapping people is easy with transporter technology -- but how does one change their victims' clothes in the process?!

Quark's breakdown was unexpected; I suppose there'll be a follow-up on that?

The Nagus

Jake and Nog's friendship is very heartwarming.

Vortex

I'm glad to learn more about Odo, but wasn't this episode kinda cheesy?

Battle Lines

Yess, more Kira drama

Let me make a guess: this will be important in the season finale?

The Storyteller

You know that post "Have you ever accidentally befriended someone who was extremely annoying"? It needs to be on a screenshot of O'Brien and Bashir from this episode.

Progress

Kira's subplot is like an unholy hybrid between The Survivors, Ensigns of Command/Journey's End, and Preemptive Strike. Plus, that guy looks like Hannibal Lector.

Jake and Nog's subplot is giving me a bit too much secondhand embarrassment.

"I'm going to tell Minister Toran that she's remained temporarily on Jeraddo at your request" "But sir, that isn't true" "Make it true, Doctor. Now, please" lmao Sisko's methods are... interesting.

He gave a good speech to Kira in the next scene, too.

I'm glad it worked out well for the kids :D I kind of expected the two plots to tie together at the end -- like the old man settling on the piece of land they bought.

If Wishes Were Horses

"Waste of time. Too many people dream of places they'll never go, wish for things they'll never have, instead of paying adequate attention to their real lives." Are you calling all of your viewers out, Odo?

A bit too much technobabble, but funny! I thought this would be not just about imagination, but about youth. The imaginary characters are conjured up by a three year old, a fourteen year old, and by Julian whose immaturity is even commented upon in the cold open.

The Forsaken

Oh... oh my god... it's her

Why is her hair pink, anyway

O'Brien's talking to the computer right after opening credits, just after Majel Barrett's name appeared on screen -- are they doing this on purpose?

this orange hair is even worse

"You are the thin beige line between order and chaos" I'm dying what kind of compliment is this

Odo's grumpiness re: humanoid mating rituals is beautiful

"Every 16 hours I turn into a liquid" "I can swim"

Hello fanfic trope :D

Yes, Odo, I was making the same faces during the episode she's recalling

"Do you hear it?" "Hear what?" The voice" ARE THEY REALLY DOING THIS

"Like a baby" I'd say, more like Lwaxana

"It came here when we downloaded the probe's files. If we upload those same files back to the probe, it might go with them" That's... not how it works...

Universal acceptance is a lovely and very plausible other side of the coin to Lwaxana's eccentricity and odd taste. I've grown to appreciate that. She's always so obnoxious at the beginning of the episode, I completely forget about her sensitive side and she manages to surprise me every time.

wait, so she's been canonically wearing wigs in all those TNG episodes?

Dramatis Personae

Wait, is the infirmary right across the corridor from Quark's bar?

Bashir is acting very strangely

Alright, the question is "who isn't acting strangely"

Is Kira trying to flirt with Dax?

Bashir really won the temporary personality lottery. Everyone else became unlikeable and he just Lives For The Drama. I mean, more than usual...

Will Odo often play this role of the only one unaffected by a disease, like Data did? But unlike Data, he can also manipulate people. I'm only now starting to appreciate that he actually is a "Constable". Very refreshing to see a security officer who's allowed to be smart.

Duet

Oooh, finally it's time for the Bajoran-Cardassian drama again!

The plot twist makes this episode remind me of The Defector even more... And I think it cheapens the conflict; what to do with a bureaucrat who hasn't personally committed atrocities is a difficult and morally grey area -- not so much if it's the Big Bad responsible for everything and proud of it

Alright, he's too hammy, is there another twist coming?

Nice, Dukat is getting nervous, that's a good sign. I love Odo the detective

Okay, but even under his real identity, wouldn't, like, a very public trial and broadcasting his story everywhere have some effect?

I... don't really like how this episode ends on a "Not all Cardassians / Some Bajorans are just prejudiced". Still, it's the strongest story in the season.

In the Hands of the Prophets

Ughhh religious fundamentalists...

Have I mentioned how uncomfortable it is that on this show people's ears are often grabbed with completely different connotations?

Oh god I'm just seething this is too real

The murder mystery is interesting!

I hate her so much

Call! Odo!! Or! Sisko!! Preferably both!!!

General impressions:

A surprisingly even season. There are no outright failures (unlike TNG's first and last seasons -- hell, probably unlike any TNG season) but it's rarely remarkable.

The interior and costume design is quite ugly, sorry to say.

It took me several episodes to adjust after the glorious remastered HD of TNG. Please remaster this show too!

Best character for dramatic scenes: Kira

Best character for lighthearted scenes: Bashir

Most underused character: Dax

Best duo: Odo and Quark (okay, there's not much competition so far, I just wanted them to have their own category)

If O'Brien is such a super engineering pro, why did he spend all these years on the Enterprise manning the transporter instead of being Geordi's right hand man or something?

I don't know what I think of Sisko yet. But I like him more than Picard in his first season.

[unforgetabelle]

Lords, Lies & Ladybirds :LadyNoir July

part: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20

21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  

ao3

Reveal

Adrien hefted himself over the back garden wall, not bothering to even check the eternally deserted alley before lowering himself on the other side of the wall with an accomplished sigh. There were some benefits to the maze of a garden his father insisted on upkeeping in his mother’s honor. Adrien had tried to remind Gabriel that his mother had much preferred wildflowers, but the more traditional and refined high hedges ended up working in his advantage anyway. Adrien disappeared  into the garden and the servants likely assumed he was just that fond of nature or, more likely, they didn’t care where the young man had run off to as long as it left the house empty.

Adrien grinned at the thought, happy to give the servants their freedom in the house if he could. His mother would have like that thought.

His smile softened then as his hand when to the small circle of metal hanging just under his shirt at the center of his chest. He’d been thinking of his mother quite a lot lately, the joyful aura she’d always emanated seeming more and more at the forefront of his mind. Marinette had more than a little to do with that, her own love and acceptance of him a sensation he could lose himself in happily. As his fingers traced the contours of his mother’s garnet ring securely tied to a ribbon around his neck, his anticipation for tonight only intensified, hoping beyond hope that once the air was completely clear between them, Marinette would agree to surround him with such contentment... for as long as they both shall live.

Taking a deep breath to try and release the tension that came with the bundle of trepidatious excitement that coursed through him, Adrien hastily prepared his Chat the commoner disguise. Untucking his shirt a bit at the back and mussing his hair to achieve the more disheveled look, he nodded in satisfaction before turning to walk towards the street.

The smile flew from his face at what he saw there.

Standing in evident shock at the mouth of the alley was the person whose very existence moments ago had sent his heart racing in a joyous chorus.

Now, it pounded for a very different reason.  

“Adrien?” Marinette called to him, her voice only an echo of its usual vibrance as she stared at him in disbelief. Her skirts blew softly around her legs as the gentle breeze passed through the buildings just as her hair wafted around her face. He recognized a flower there, a lavender spring he’d picked early that morning, hanging limply in her windblown tresses. She made no move to fix it, frozen as she continued to stare at him.

“So it’s true.”

“Marinette,” he spoke finally, taking long strides until he was in front of her, but when he caught sight of the expression looking back at him, he dared not touch. Never on her face had he seen as woebegone a look as she wore in that moment... and he and his lies had put it there.

“Marinette,” he tried again, lifting a hand to her face, but she took a step away from him.

“M’Lord,” she responded, betrayal clear in her eyes even as he hastened to look away.

“Don’t call me that,” he spoke finally, his voice no louder than a whisper. “You said it wouldn’t matter.”

“And you said you weren’t a noble!” She shouted back, throwing the bouquet she still held in her hands at him as she took a step forward and poked him in the chest. “You let me stand there last night, the fool, as you joked about being Lord Adrien. Well, the joke is on me, I suppose.”

“M’Lady, no--”

“Even after we vowed to finally be honest, all that fell from your lips were falsehoods,” her yelling vanished in that moment and her broken whisper pierced through his heart with every syllable she muttered. “Was it all a lie, Chat?”

“No, Marinette,” Adrien finally closed the space between them, his hands moving to cradle her face. “No. I would never--”

“But you did,” she insisted. “You lied to me, Adrien. You stood there and promised me no more secrets, you promised me you were of common folk. After I promised to love you no matter who you were, you lied...effortlessly.”

“Not about anything important!”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” she closed her eyes, sinking into his hands for only a moment before stepping away. “But that is beside the point.”

Adrien watched as she took a step back, crossing her arms and then letting them fall at her sides again, her inner discomfort manifesting clearly in her movements. He stood motionless, helpless, until she finally raised her eyes to his again and spoke.

“Are you...Are you ashamed of me?”

“What?” His voice was shrill in the silence of the alley as he felt physically taken aback at her question. Out of all the things he expected her to say, all the accusations and declarations he would have deserved, her asking is he was ashamed of her had never once crossed his mind. “No! Why would you ever--of course not!”

“Then why hide who you are?” Marinette looked at him with pleading eyes now, and he hated himself even more for somehow bringing forth such an insecurity in the unstoppable woman before him. She deserved so much better.

“I bared my soul to you,” she continued. “And it still wasn’t enough. What else am I supposed to think other than the obvious? That as much as you  might love me, you could never deign to marry a businessman’s daughter? A commoner. What else could there be but shame of me? Shame of where I come from?”

“Shame of myself!” He shouted finally, desperation evident in his voice, but he didn’t care if she heard it. He was desperate. Desperate to make her understand. Desperate for her to know that there was nothing failing in her. It was in him. It was all him. “Shame of my class. Shame of my family, of who my father is and the atrocities he commits in the bastardized name of god!”

He threw his hands up as he started to pace in the small alleyway, his frustration at himself and the situation he’d created finally overflowing, just as he feared it always would.

“Everywhere I go, on the seldom occasions I’m even allowed outside of the house, I am Lord Gabriel Agreste’s son and heir. Future Lord Agreste and, presumably, heir also to his reformative tasks. I am looked at with awe or scorn, but Marinette,” he stopped, turning towards her then. “I am never truly seen. But Chat…”

“Can be everything Adrien can’t”

“Exactly! Chat is freedom,” he dared to take a step forward. “Freedom to live a life. Freedom to have friends.  Freedom...freedom to fall in love.”

When she didn’t back away from him, he took the risk and grabbed her hands in his.

“Chat is me. He gave me to freedom that led to you. And the thought of you ever looking at me the way people look at Adrien. Bug... I don’t know if my heart would ever recover.”

“But I know you, by whatever name you choose to call yourself,” Marinette squeezed his hands, pulling him closer as she tucked their joined fingers against her collarbone. “I don’t care what the world calls you, or however many titles you have. I trusted you. I placed all my secrets in the palm of your hands and knew you’d keep them, and me, safe. Because I know you, my love. Don’t ...Don’t you know me?”

“I was scared,” he breathed the words out, letting his forehead fall to hers in defeat.

“I know that now, but minou,” her voice hitched on the name.  “How can I trust you if you lie to me? How can I be your partner if you don’t let me see all of you, even the parts you hate?”

“I want to make this right. I need to make this right.”

“I...I may need some time.”

Adrien closed his eyes at her words, pain at the thought of losing her because of his own fear coursing through his veins.

“You were ready to run away with Chat last night,” he reminded gently.

“And then Adrien broke my heart this morning.”

Adrien cringed. Her voice wasn’t accusatory, but the undeniable truth there stung nonetheless.

“I...I understand,” he managed to choke the words out even as his throat felt unbearably tight with the tears he refused to shed.

“I love you.”

Marinette’s quiet words accompanied the soft kiss she left on his cheek before disentangling herself from his embrace.

“As I love you, ” he responded.

But as he watched her walk away, Adrien couldn’t help but fear that it wouldn’t be enough.

~*~

The performance that night went off flawlessly, no one else seeming to noticed the uninspired performance Chat gave nor the missing costumer. Adrien, however, felt her absence keenly.

With a forlorn wave to Nino, who seemed to know better than to invite him out for post-performance drinks, Adrien shuffled through town towards his house. Never before had he been so grateful for his knowledge of the backstreets town as he was tonight.  It allowed him to interact with exactly zero people during his journey. When he arrived at the alley behind his house, he pushed aside the threatening melancholy that came with the memories of that morning and quickly found his familiar footholds. In a matter of second, he crested the stone wall and landed with a near-silent thump on gravel path of his back garden.

Adrien walked from out behind the hedge, expertly weaving through the maze despite the lack of light, but stopped when he reached the main clearing. When he recognized the shadow seated on the small bench there, he realized that it was possible for his day to get even worse. The strike of flint echoed in the night and a moment later, his father’s face stared back at him, illuminated in the soft glow of the candle.

“Where were you?” Gabriel asked without preamble. Adrien remained silent and his father sighed in resignation.

“How long will the secrecy continue, son? How long until you start to shoulder your own responsibilities instead of running from them?”

“I believe I’ve made it very clear that I will not be following in your footsteps, father,” Adrien spoke softly, but articulately. Shoulders rigid as he looked down at his father, Adrien held his ground regardless. The facts hadn’t changed.

“Be that as it may, you are still the heir to the title. You’re position is a staple in the community, and you cannot comport yourself as a vagabond and still maintain the dignity of your post.”

“Because it’s all about appearances, isn’t it?” Adrien shook his head in disbelief, feeling his posture slump. He didn’t have the strength to argue with his father. Not tonight. So he settled for honesty instead. “You act as if mother didn’t do the same. I may have been young when we lost her, but I still remember walking the market with her every Saturday. The people loved her. They respected her, and not because they feared her.”

“Yes, well... Emilie,” Gabriel said his mother’s name with a wistful sigh and Adrien startled at the sound of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his father speak her name. “Emilie was special.”

Adrien watched as Gabriel seemed to deflate at the sound of her name. All the pomp and circumstance he typically held so closely fading away until it was only a man sitting front of him. A man who had lost so much and had relied on the anger of his situation to sustain him. A man who was clearly exhausted of it all.

“It’s dangerous,” Gabriel finally spoke again, and Adrien couldn’t remember his father ever sounding so...open. “I’ve already lost your mother. Do you know what it would do to me if something happened to you, too?”

“Probably the same thing it did to every Catholic mother, father...son and daughter whose loved one was imprisoned or worse because of your vendetta.”

Adrien watched his words as they seemed to finally impact his father. For once, he hadn’t spoken them in anger. Blanketed in the gentle safety of the night, he let the truth fall from his lips without rancor, and they finally seemed to reach Gabriel.

“Is that truly what you think of me?”

Gabriel leaned forward on his knees, his breath releasing from his body in a single defeated puff, extinguishing the light of the candle in in his hand. Through the darkness, his voice spoke again.

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I take more righteous enjoyment in my job than necessary, but it is for your protection as much as it is to fulfil my duty to the crown. They took your mother from us, Adrien, and I--” his father paused to clear his throat before continuing in a hoarse whisper. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it is to lose half of your soul, and I pray you never do.”

Adrien blinked in the darkness, his body motionless at his father’s statement.

What it is to lose half your soul.

Somehow his father, who he’d assumed to be the most emotionally disconnected person he’d ever encountered, had managed to take the sensation that had been consuming him all day and put it into succinct words. That’s what it was. At the thought of possibly losing Marinette, his soul was crying out for its other half.

Adrien heard movement and looked up at the feeling of his father’s hand on his shoulder. The moon was at his back, throwing Gabriel’s face into the shadows, but Adrien’s expression was on full display, the anguish in his eyes evident to his father.

“Who--” Gabriel began, but hesitated as his son flinched and changed questions.

“Where have you been going, son?” He asked again.

“Somewhere I can be free,” he responded truthfully, no longer avoiding the question. He was done with the lies. “Somewhere people accept me.”

“Somewhere...theatrical, perhaps?”

Adrien saw a glint in the darkness and knew his father was smiling. He suddenly wished he could see it. It had been so long since his father had truly smiled.

“Perhaps,” he allowed, still cognisant that Gabriel had raided the theater not too long ago. “But how did you--”

“The lines I’ve heard from your room in the last few months are most assuredly not from your approved course of study...and you have a tendency to practice ungodly hours of the morning.” A cloud had covered the moon, and in the equalized light, Adrien just made out the quirk in his father’s eyebrow. “Our rooms are not that far apart, son.”

“I suppose I’m not exactly quiet in my practice either,” he joked back uncertainly, the strange camaraderie with his father unfamiliar.

“No, but then you never have been a quiet child,” Gabriel responded, a laugh evident in his voice as he did. It was a bizarre tone, but not unwelcome.

“So...you approve then?”

“Absolutely not,” he responded immediately, but continued with less force. “But I refuse to formally disapprove of something that seems to make you so happy, despite the havoc it is wrecking on your sleeping habits...and on my nerves.”

“On one condition,” he added, and Adrien tensed, prepared for the other shoe to drop. “You formally begin shadowing me. In my non-reformation work that is,” he was quick to add before continuing with a smirk. “And that you take a guard, as inconspicuous a one that you can find, and use the front door on your next escape,” Gabriel looked down at him with a shake of the head and his following words were so paternal Adrien had to force himself not to roll his eyes. “Really, Adrien, you’re lucky you haven’t broken your neck climbing over that wall. Honestly.”

“Deal,” Adrien agreed, smiling at the exasperated tone in his father’s voice. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed at his request to be guarded. He’d won such a battle tonight, and they hadn’t even fought. “Th-Thank you, father.”

He wondered if this was all a dream. If he would wake up tomorrow to find nothing had changed. It was nearly impossible, the shift he’d seen in his father overnight.

Adrien waited for the reprimand. The admonishment for his rebellion, the laugh that proved this compassion and honestly had all been one long joke, but it never came.

Instead, he felt his father’s hand squeeze his shoulder just as he passed.

“Be safe, Adrien,” his words traveled to Adrien in a whisper as he left the boy alone in the garden. “And have faith.”

Hey.

So if you saw my post a few days ago, you know this Gabe redemption kind of snuck up on me...I’m not mad about it though ;) Also! This story is now 32 days because I’m weak for an epilogue :D

[wavenetinfo]

SPOILER ALERT: Read on only if you have already watched Sunday’s episode of Fear the Walking Dead, “100.”

Having scenes in different languages with subtitles is becoming more commonplace on television — but they are usually just that: individual scenes. However, for Sunday night’s “100” episode of Fear the Walking Dead, AMC went even further, airing an almost completely Spanish-language episode.

With the exception of one scene between Daniel Salazar and Victor Strand, the rest of the episode — which told the backstory of what happened to Daniel after he set fire to the Mexican compound back in season 2 — was entirely in Spanish. We asked Fear showrunner Dave Erickson about that decision, as well as mapping out Daniel’s backstory and his moment-of-truth choice at the very end.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: We haven’t seen Daniel since the season 2 midseason finale, so it’s been a while. When did you come up with his story in terms of what had happened to him? Did you know all the way back when he set the compound on fire, or did it come together later? DAVE ERICKSON: There are a lot of circumstances creatively and practically that went into the decision for this supposed death back in episode 207, and then here’s Daniel’s resurrection. But the story itself in terms of how he got out and where he was going didn’t really manifest until we got to the [writers’ room] this season. Since we hadn’t seen him for so long, we wanted to make sure that we had a good, surprising return for him, which I think we got at the end of last week.

But then we really wanted to afford Daniel a full episode just to sort of catch up with where he was at, what his headspace was, how he had recovered from the fire and from that chapter of madness, and then sort of put him back on track. I knew he was coming back, and we started talking about that last season. It was really just a question of when we wanted to drop him in and how we wanted to integrate him into the story again.

Then as far as the actual escape, there were a number of different options. There was a shoot that we included, which would have been a grave shoot back in the day, and that was one possible version of escape. There was also a point where he did walk in with the key. He did actually unlock it. He knows how to get in and out, but that didn’t seem terribly dramatic, so we landed on this sort of quality about Daniel that’s interesting — and it’s actually something that carries out through the season — is this sense that he’s death-proof. This sense that for a man who has committed such atrocities and killed so many people, his burden and what he suffers for is he does not seem able to die. I mean, he’ll be up against a number of things going into this season as well that will test him. It’s really sort of a… it’s almost the trials of Job for this guy over the course of season 3.

The thing that really struck me about the episode is that almost the entire episode is in Spanish with subtitles, which is no small thing. We’ve seen a lot of shows have sections and scenes in different languages, yet this is a 95 percent non-English episode. Tell me about that decision and any discussions you guys had along those lines about doing that. I wanted to do it. One of the great upsides of the show last season and this season is because we are in Mexico, it has become something of a bilingual show, which I like. I knew I wanted Daniel to have his own episode, and since that episode took place in Mexico and obviously he was coming into contact with Mexican characters, there was no reason for him to speak English.

I hope that people don’t get frustrated by the subtitles, but creatively, it just made sense. That was not something that I was concerned with and it’s not something that the network ever expressed any worry over either, so it’s just what it is. I mean, if you’re telling a story that’s set in Mexico and the characters are all Spanish-speaking characters, there’s no reason to play it in English. If we had thrown in a character who was English-speaking just to make sure we had some balance between the languages, that would have felt a little bit cheesy, a little bit forced.

Here’s the thing: Daniel is an important character and I just love the way Ruben plays him, and I do think with all the trauma and drama from his death last season it was important just to give him a very soulful, spiritual episode where he sort of reconnects with himself and you also get a sense of what his great burden now is as he articulates it to Efrain. He doesn’t know if he killed his own daughter. Je’s a very haunted man, but I think the survival and the question, which I know a lot of people have, which is, where is Ofelia? It’s something that really clarifies for him. It clarifies him emotionally and mentally. Which has nothing to do with the Spanish. [Laughs]

Richard Foreman, Jr/AMC

It seems Daniel is just trying to limit the damage as much as possible during the episode. He does bad things for Dante in the hopes that it will ward off worse things. But he’s faced with that choice there at the end to throw Lola off the dam and he doesn’t. Is that just because he found a line he would not cross, or because he saw an opportunity to use the weapon to take out Dante and his men, or a little bit of both? Alan Page wrote the episode and I thought he did a brilliant job. This is a man who’s worried and suspecting that he might have been responsible for his own daughter’s death. He seeks forgiveness and he doesn’t get it. He tries to find some salvation, and he gets into the lightening zombie scene. He’s prepared to die. He’s ready to cash in, and when he survives for him, he finds himself in this new scenario.

I think it’s two things. There’s a moment in the episode, a stretch of time where he’s kind of saying, “F— it. I am who I am.” He does his best to protect them. There’s still a moral direction as he tries to cover for Efrain and then he tries to cover for Lola, but he puts himself in something of an unwinnable position because he says essentially when he’s torturing Efrain, “If you confess, they’re going to kill you both, and if you don’t confess, I’m going to kill you.” He’s in a position where he has the skill set, which Dante has recognized. He has the tools that he needs to do this, and it’s pushing him to the point where he’s forced to confront Lola. It is final.

I think that’s the straw that will break the camel’s back and he can’t go there because there’s something about Lola that reminds him of Ofelia, and she saved his life. She has this sort of saintly quality and in her he sees a surrogate, which is a theme we’ve played a number of times. I mean, it’s when you’re doing a show that centers around a blended family. That was really Travis’ big goal in the beginning of the season: I’ve lost my son, how do I protect the surrogate? I think Daniel’s in that same boat right now where he’s lacking any idea of whether Ofelia is dead or alive, wondering if he’s responsible.

What he latches on to at the very end is the promise and the innocence of this woman and this refusal to become the man that he used to be, and he sort of walks that fine line up until the very end. Then after he turns on Dante and after he saves Lola and Strand, he seeks from her what he’s been seeking the entire episode, which is her forgiveness. In that moment, he gets a modicum of absolution. The fact that she doesn’t reject him is enough for him in that moment. He doesn’t quite have her forgiveness but that’s something he continues to work towards as we go forward.

I was wondering whether he wanted to live at that point still too. He gets down on his knees, gives her the gun. He doesn’t know if Ofelia is alive or not. Does he want her to sort of put him out of his misery? Does he think for a minute, I don’t deserve to live? What’s going on there? I think he’s giving himself to her. He’s offering himself up. He wants her to forgive him of his sins and he wants her to accept him. I think the only thing he has left in him, and we’ll see this as it moves forward at least for the time being, is the possibility of serving this woman and in some respects if she accepts him. And ultimately, he becomes her soldier and that is going to be one of our big themes this season when it comes to violence and its use and at what point does it corrupt you morally. That’s something that’ll be sort of a tug of war between Daniel and Lola as we continue.

But I think he wants absolution. At that point the guy is just exhausted. He’s had a very intense several days and he commits a violent act which he knows will not be his last but he does it in a righteous cause. What he wants from Lola is recognition of that and that’s the lesson he asks for. He wants her forgiveness. So he’s not asking to be put out of his misery. He’s asking for some connection and some understanding. That’s the only thing, really, that gives him any hope.

As we move forward, he doesn’t know what happened to Ofelia. He suspects. I think he’s horrified by the possibility of what could have happened and that he might have been responsible for it but that gives him a need even more so as the season progresses to atone. It gives him more reason to do right by Lola and then ultimately he’s also always keeping an eye out for the possibility that she might be alive. We go into that a bit deeper when we get into the next episode, obviously, because Strand has made some suggestions, made some claims as to her whereabouts, and Strand’s working a con to a certain degree and is trying to get himself out of jail and protect his own interests, but that’s something we continue to hit as we move into episode 5.

For more Fear the Walking Dead intel, follow Dalton on Twitter @DaltonRoss.

19 June 2017 | 2:01 am

Dalton Ross

Source : Entertainment Weekly

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