#for young asian girls watching the show

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: Its 1935 and you've been sent on the Liner Normandie to retrieve a stolen painting. You have six suspects and the clock is ticking — you only have four days before the ship reaches New York to find it. But soon, you find yourself caught up in something even more serious than you could have believed.

Warnings: getting hit in the head with a bottle, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, stalker behavior, light misogyny(?), guns, needles, violence

Word count: 11.7k

DAY 1 — Debark

The ship towers over you like a mad giant. Gray smoke rises from the two forward funnels. It’s the biggest in the world, bigger than any man made object that can float. You shake your head. Focus. You’re not here for pleasure. You continue your way over to the terminal. The agency sent you in hopes of finding the lost painting, no one else. You need to stay focused, they’re counting on you.

Without questioning, you give the fake ID to the man behind the desk. When you had started out as an agent, you were always nervous that your covers would be blown and you would be found out. Nowadays, you’ve noticed that if you look nervous, risk are that you’ll be asked questions. 

You walk over the gangway with your bag in hand. You have just above four days to find the painting — a very famous portrait of a woman with her head slightly turned to the viewer, wearing a big, blank pearl earring. It was stolen from the Mauritshuis in the Netherlands two weeks ago, and details have revealed that it has been taken to France, and will be moved to America on the SS Normandie. The painting itself isn’t insanely big, but the fuss about it’s disappearance is. You have to find it at all cost. 

Before you got here, you had time to take a look at the passenger list. There are six people you recognise, where of five could be your potential smugglers. 

Silas Achilleos, a mob boss wanted by the police, and his second in command. A man like him was probably not interested in paintings, but he could have clients who did. And those could pay him heaps of money. 

Edmund of Vesanus, a young king who likes the bachelor life. He surrounds himself with loads of women and alcohol, partying like nothing matters. He would take the painting because he doesn’t want anyone else to have it. He’s traveling with his doctor, a certain Karl Kry who you don’t know much about. 

Hedwig Carter, a young heiress who’s father is noble, and who's mother is famous in the acting business is traveling with a young woman named Jerry Kim, someone you guess is Hedwig’s chaperone. Hedwig is known for getting whatever she wants with a snap of her fingers, and if she wants a painting … she will get it. Jerry, however, does not have much information out in the open. Everything about her before she started to work for Hedwig is wiped away. You want to know who she is and where she comes from, and what she would want a painting for.

You walk down the stairs to your cabin on A-deck and start to pack up, using the second bed in the room to store your bag. After settling in, you decide to take a look around this magnificent vessel to get familiar with it. You make your way up to the promenade deck and give the open cinema by the stairs a quick look. You guess that they’re going to put on movies once the ship reaches open water. If you’re lucky you’ll see something interesting. And hopefully, you have the time to watch it. 

The promenade is enclosed decorated with a gray floor, comfortable deck chairs and clear windows. A line in the tricolor fashion runs along the floor, as if to show where to walk. You walk on the line, flashing a little childish smile. You’ve left Le Havre and are on your way out towards the Atlantic’s open arms. The clock is ticking. 

Your eyes lock onto someone walking towards you and you immediately realize that it is Hedwig and her chaperone, an east asian girl … wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt. You don’t realize how obvious it is that you’re staring until the woman opens her mouth and you realize that they’ve stopped right in front of you. 

“What are you staring at, sir?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and putting her hands in her pockets. “If you want to say something, do it.”

“No—no, sorry”, you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Tell me, do you approve of women who wear pants?” 

It sure looks weird, but is it? When you think about it, aren't pants just pieces of the same fabric as skirts, just sewn differently?

“Uh, I … suppose so.”

To that, Jerry nods approvingly.

“I don’t see why only men should wear pants”, she says.

“Well, I don't feel comfortable wearing them”, Hedwig chuckles nervously and smiles softly. “But they fit you, Jerry. They really do.”

“You must be miss Carter”, you say, as if you don't know, and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, please call me Hedwig! Who are you?” 

“I’m Axel Ainsworth, I'm in the art industry.”

Hedwig’s smile widens. “That is very interesting, I love art. Especially portraits. Capturing humanity’s differences and details are magical. Don’t you think so, Jerry?”

“I’m more for that new thing — surrealism, I think it’s called — where everything is here and there and weird to believe”, Jerry says, shrugging. “But portraits can be okay too, depending on what type.” 

Hedwig has turned her eyes to you, glued them onto you as if you are the only thing she could ever see. “Are you traveling alone, mister Ainsworth?” she asks. 

You have remembered your entire forged background and learned it skillfully. Even your fake name rolls off the tongue as smoothly as if it was your real name. You're traveling alone because you're on your way home to your fiancé from a business trip. 

“I see”, Hedwig smiles and turns to the woman next to her. “Let me introduce you to my chaperone, miss Jerry Kim. You're always welcome to sit with us during dinner. We'd be more than happy to accompany you.”

“I'm grateful to know that, miss.”

With that said, the two women walk away. You frown and sigh. Hedwig seems like a very sweet young woman, it’d be a shame if it was her who was the culprit. Her chaperone, on the other hand, gives you weird vibes. Something about the look in her eyes … as if she’s looking right through you, scanning you. 

You continue down the promenade until you turn into the Winter Garden, a half moon-shaped room full of plants and lamps and big, wide windows, overlooking the special shaped bow that has given Normandie the speed it has. Passengers have already started gathering in the Winter Garden to talk to friends and family and watch how Normandie makes her way out onto the Atlantic. None of them resembles the men you’re looking for. You continue your way through the ship, eventually finding yourself in the smoking room on the embarkment deck, where you had stepped onto the ship. You had only glanced at the room before, but now when you’re standing in the smoking room — and very well the lounge since they’re connected — you realize how stupid you must have been to miss it. There must be ten meters up to the ceiling, you think, and bigger than a concert hall. A long, grey staircase leads up to the outside deck. The art deco interior is modern and sleek, but the whip overall has a classic, conservative design that reminds you of the great liners of the old age. You sigh while thinking of the Mauretania and the Olympic, Britain's biggest rivals which now are laid up in Jarrowtown, side by side, ready to be scrapped. There’s something melancholy about it all, and at the same time something beautiful, starting as enemies and now ending it all under the same flag, together. 

You shake your head. Focus. Your eyes catch someone standing by the windows, someone very familiar. Silas and his right hand man. You move closer, trying to hear what they’re talking about.

“I’m not complaining, I just think that it is annoying that it has to take four days to get to America”, Silas mutters and takes a whiff off his cigar. 

“Any other ship would take double the time, sir”, his second in command says apologetically. “I doublechecked.”

“I don’t like being in one place for too long.”

“See it as a vacation. You’re deserving of it. Let’s enjoy some good food, alcohol and some company. It’ll do you good.”

“I don’t like to be in one place too long. Especially when we know that they're on board!”

You furrow your brows. Who?

“Nothing will happen.”

Silas hums and smokes again. You’ve stood by the windows a few meters away, pretending to be interested in the horizon. Silas turns his eyes to you. 

“You, sir”, he says, pointing at you with his cigar. 

You look away from the ocean. Both Silas and his second in command have turned to you, their dark eyes looking right at you. 

“Yes?” you ask. 

“Is it true that the Normandie keeps her speed?” Silas asks. “No matter the weather?”

“I believe so, sir.”

Silas nods in satisfaction. “Good.”

You decide to try to get some information out of him. You know who he is, but he doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know that you’re out to get him. To him, you’re just another first class passenger. 

“Are you in a hurry?” you wonder. 

“You could say that”, Silas sighs and turns his eyes out the window again. 

You hold out your hand. “I’m Axel Ainsworth.”

Silas second in command gives him a short look before his boss shakes your hand. His grip is hard, firm. 

“You can call me Silas”, he says. “No need for a surname.” He takes another blow on the cigar. “What brings you out on the ocean like this?”

“I’ve been on a business trip, but now I’m going home to my fiancé”, you say, pretending to smile at the thought of your made up fiancé.

“What business are you in?”

“Art.”

Silas lifts one of black his eyebrows. “Art?”

His second in command straightens his back. 

“Yes, sir”, you say. 

“Are you a … painter?” Silas wonders. 

“God no, I can’t handle a brush even if my life depended on it. I’m an art trader, I help people sell their paintings for the right price.”

“I see. Well, one can’t do everything.” He blows a cloud of smoke. “Have you traveled on this ship before, Axel?”

“No, it’s my first time. But I’m not unfamiliar with the ocean, I used to travel a lot on the older ships in my younger days.”

“Then I suppose you have a favorite?”

You think for a second. “I did like that Cunarder, the Lusitania … such a shame Germany sunk it.”

“You never know which ships are safe or not, just look at that Titanic fiasco. They thought it was the safest ship afloat. Yeah, sure it was.” Silas shrugs. “Wouldn’t surprise if this peace of junk also sinks. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Well …”

Silas’s second in command taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. Silas frowns and nods before turning to you. 

“It was nice speaking with you, but I have some business to deal with”, he says shortly. 

“Have a good day”, you say. 

Silas nods politely and leaves. You follow him and his second in command with your eyes until they’ve left the smoking room. He was nicer than you had anticipated. 

Your next suspect, you find in the dining hall that evening. You’ve met up with Hedwig and Jerry in the reception. Hedwig is wearing a pink evening gown with pink gloves. Her honey blonde hair is curled and put up with hairpins. Jerry is wearing a dark purple, sleeveless dress, showing a couple tattoos. In her short, black hair, there’s a little decoration that reminds you of a flower. She's wearing dark lipstick, in contrast to Hedwig who wears a Hollywood red.

“They wouldn’t let me in unless I dressed ladylike”, she mutters. 

“I think that you look gorgeous, Jerry”, Hedwig smiles and takes her hand. 

“I guess that it isn’t that bad.”

“I like your tattoos”, you say. “Where did you get them from?”

“A tattoo artist, of course.” She then twists her arm to show something on the inner side of her bicep. “Okay, I made this one myself.”

You step closer, seeing a small heart tattooed on her arm. 

“That’s cute”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry smiles smugly. “Hurts like hell though.”

“I can imagine.”

The stewards allow you into the dining room and — for what feels like the thousand time today — you’re amazed by the interior. Silver walls with golden ceiling and art decor wherever you could see. In the middle of the long dining hall, there’s a gigantic, golden statue of a woman. 

Hedwig and Jerry leads you to a table and sit down. That’s when you see your last suspects. They’re walking through the dining hall, dressed in tuxedos. The king can’t be more than twenty years old. His doctor is a minimum of fifteen years older. 

“You son of a bitch”, he says suddenly and looks at the table you’re sitting at. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig’s eyes widen in shock.

“Edmund, what are you doing here?” she asks with a smile. “Sit with us, please.”

The king and his doctor sit down at your table. 

“Good evening”, the blonde doctor says and shakes yours and Jerry's hand before introducing himself. “I’m Doctor Kry.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Axel Ainsworth”, you say. 

“This is king Edmund.”

You’re about to shake his hand, but Doctor Kry removes your hand. 

“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t shake people’s hands”, he whispers. 

“Oh, I see”, you say. 

The king gives you a bored look. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty”, you tell him politely. 

“How do you know Hedwig?” he asks shortly. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“We met today”, Hedwig smiles. “Axel, Edmund is my relative. It’s been months since we last saw each other.”

“I’ve told you to visit.”

“I know.”

“Are you that much of a hypochondriac that you need a doctor to accompany you while you’re traveling?” Jerry chuckles. 

“What are you doing here, Jerry?” Edmund mutters coldly. 

“She’s my chaperone”, Hedwig explains.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Your majesty, maybe you should think about your language”, Doctor Kry says. “We are around others.”

Edmund rolls his eyes before looking at you in a bored manner. 

“Tell me”, he says, “where do you come from, mister Ainsworth?”

You ramble your rehearsed background. Edmund nods along with you.

“I’ve always wanted to visit that place”, Doctor Kry says. “I’ve heard that it is a beautiful city.”

“It is”, you say. 

“And now you’re going to America”, Edmund says. “What were you doing in France?”

“I was on a business trip.”

“What type?”

It strikes you as odd. He doesn’t sound interested, but still he asks you curious questions. 

“I’m in the art business”, you say.

“What for?” Edmund wonders.

“Art is beautiful and should be getting what it is worth.”

“I like art”, Doctor Kry. “I would do anything to see the Mona Lisa.”

“Why didn’t you visit it when you were in France?” Hedwig wonders. 

“We didn’t have time … Edmund didn’t want to go there.”

“Why should I squash together with other people to see paintings?” Edmund scoffs. “If I want to see a painting, I get it for myself. That’s that.”

“But do you like art, your majesty?” you ask. 

“Everyone likes art”, Edmund replies nonchalantly. “That’s what gives life meaning.”

“Have you read a certain story, Edmund, called ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’?” Jerry asks with a teasing smile. “Thought that it’d fit you.”

The story is about a man who wants nothing more than to remain youthful … to the point where he has a painting of himself where all of his sins can be seen. In the end, the picture is as gruesome as can be, but Dorian himself is as youthful as he started.

“Oh, shut up, Jerry”, Edmund mutters angrily. “One day, I’ll teach you manners, believe me.”

Jerry smirks. 

You eat dinner together with the young king and the doctor. Afterward, to soothe your aching stomach, the five of you walk up to the outside promenade deck to get some fresh air. You strut under the lifeboats, under the stars. Above you, a big luminous sign spells out the name 'NORMANDIE’, casting a soft light on you. Doctor Kry has lent his blazer to Hedwig, and you’ve tried to offer yours to Jerry who refused before you had the time to open your mouth.

“Ladies, I think it’s time for you to retreat”, Edmund says, sounding sweeter than before. “It’s starting to get late.”

“The evening is young”, Jerry insists. 

“I’m tired”, Hedwig yawns.  

“Jerry, be a good girl and bring Hedwig to your cabin”, Edmund grits. “Please. I’m not fighting with you again.”

Jerry rolls her eyes, removes the doctor’s blazer and tells you goodnight. Hedwig gives you and Edmund a hug. Her flowery perfume clogs up your nose, dulls your head for a moment. The three of you wish the girls a pleasant evening and continue walking. 

“Hedwig is a stupid girl”, Edmund says, strolling slowly. “One can’t help but want to take care of her.”

“She seems very sweet”, you admit. 

“She is. Just very naive. I’ve promised her father that I’m going to take care of her whenever I meet her.”

“Her chaperone is … interesting”, Doctor Kry remarks. 

“God, yes, I hate her!”

“What is it about her that you don’t like?” you ask curiously. 

“I do not like girls like her. Did you see her tattoos? She often walks around in man’s clothing and I don’t think it’s fitting for a woman — especially someone that is close to my relative. I don’t want her influencing Hedwig.”

“I don’t think you have to worry, your majesty”, Doctor Kry says calmly. “I think Hedwig is going to be okay.”

“If there’s one thing I’m glad for, it is that Hedwig is predictable.” He groans. “I need a cigar. Let’s go to the smoking room.” Edmund turns around to give you a look. “Axel, are you joining?” 

“I don’t know”, you reply. “It’s the first day, I’m still tired from embarking.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re going to bed now.” He looks at his expensive watch. “The clock is ten. Stay one hour.”

You give up and follow them to the smoking room. Maybe it is for the best. If you want to get close to them, you’ll need to spend as much time observing them as you can. 

Sitting with them in the smoking room, you find that Silas and his second in command aren't here among the other men. You frown, thinking that they would be here since they were earlier. 

When you’re allowed to leave, two hours later, your mind is fogged up by smoke and whiskey. You make your way through the empty corridors to your cabin, closing and locking it behind you. Tiredly, you sink down on your bed and sigh out. You have observed them, and talked with them the entire day, and yet you haven’t figured out who could be hiding the painting. They all seem interested in art. They all could have taken it. 

There's so many questions. What kind of doctor is Kry? Where did Jerry come from and why is there no information about her? Why would someone like Hedwig hire her as her chaperone? And who is that person that Silas doesn't want on board? Is there someone you haven't accounted for, someone else that can have stolen the painting?

You hide your face in your hands and groan. Three days left.

DAY 2 — Sea

You wake up early, get ready and head out into the corridor. You lock the cabin door behind you, feeling the handle to make sure that it is locked and make your way to the Winter Garden to have a cup of coffee. The large windows give you a wide view of the calm ocean. The sun rises up from the blue water in a magical sense that has you hypnotized. It's all so very quiet and relaxing.

After your cup of coffee, you stretch your muscles, and contemplate going down to the swimming pool to take a few laps, to warm up your muscles and clear your head for the day's work. You pay the purser and make your way down to the swimming pool on D deck. The tile walls are covered with art that reminds you of ancient Greece and the new, abstract type of paint. The pool itself was formed as a long rectangle with curved corners, green steel ladders, and a steep and a shallow part. Throughout the shallow part, there were thick, dull spikes, likely to stop children from going out into the deep end. 

Despite being the early hours of the first morning on board, someone is already in the water. Doctor Kry.

“Good morning”, he says. “You’re up early.”

“So are you”, you reply.

“I always need to clear my head before starting the day.”

“What about the king? Is he swimming too?”

“Don't kid around. He doesn’t wake up until nine. I wouldn’t be able to get him out of bed before that anyways. He’s a very deep sleeper and hates getting woken up.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Where do you have your cabin?” you ask. 

“On the promenade deck, one of the suites. A-54.”

Bingo. 

“Why do you ask?” Doctor Kry wonders.

“I was just thinking that since the king doesn't want to be disturbed, choosing the right cabin place is important.”

“Did we choose a good cabin then?”

You nod, despite not knowing a single thing about cabin placements. The only thing you're aware of is to be as far away from the noisy engine room as possible.

Perhaps if you asked the purser, you could get the number of the other cabins. He, if anyone, should have the passenger list. 

You glance back at Doctor Kry who's still hanging by the side of the pool. This is your time to investigate him. You slowly get into the water.

“Such a shame that you didn't get to visit the Mona Lisa”, you say as you start to swim. “It's a very pretty painting.”

“So I've heard”, Doctor Kry says slowly.

“My favorite painting is ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’, have you had the opportunity to see it?”

He's quiet for a second.

“I haven't”, he says, sounding low. “I guess that, an art trader like you, must be troubled by its disappearance.”

“Of course”, you answer.  

At this point, a detective and an art trader don't seem like different things, especially since both would be looking for the same thing.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder.

“It depends”, Doctor Kry says. “Go ahead.”

“Forgive me for being nosy, but why doesn't his majesty like Jerry?”

“He is very old fashioned. He doesn't think that women should be dressed in pants or have tattoos. Edmund is very self centered, yes, but he's also very possessive of the ones he holds dear — example being miss Hedwig. As you may know, his parents were murdered by enemies to the monarchy and ever since, the only relatives that have been in his life have been Hedwig and her family. They're very close in age too — Hedwig being eighteen and Edmund nineteen — which has been a very important thing for him. He sees her as a friend, maybe his only friend. So having someone that could potentially blemish his friend and only family is a threat to Edmund.”

“Then why does Hedwig have Jerry?”

“I don't know. It could be because of a teenage revolt. Jerry is different to everything that Hedwig has ever known … and now that she's eighteen she might want to try something new.”

“Do you think that Edmund is worried about her? Because of Jerry?”

“I wouldn't say worried, because the only thing the king worries about is himself, but I think that there's something along those lines. I think that he sees Hedwig as an extended part of himself rather than her own person.”

You nod carefully.

“I wonder where Hedwig found Jerry”  you say. “How someone like her could get the job as Hedwig’s chaperone. Do you know where she comes from?”

Doctors Kry suddenly laughs.

“You ask an awful amount of questions this early in the morning”, he says and gets out of the water. “I'm sorry, I don't have more answers for you, Axel.”

You look up at him, where he stands on the tile floor. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“You remind me of a little boy”, he says and lowers his eyes onto your physic. “You're awfully trained to be an art trader. One could think that you were an Olympian.”

“Shouldn't a doctor be pleased that I am taking care of myself?”

“I am. You look good, healthy.  Just found it humorous.” He wipes away a few drops of water trying to go into his blue eyes. “I suppose that I will see you later. Goodbye, Axel.”

“Goodbye.”

You decide to do a few more laps around the swimming pool before getting up and drying yourself. Tomorrow morning, you will sneak into Edmund’s and Doctor Kry’s cabin to see if the painting is in there. But for now, you need to go to the purser. 

You change into your suit. In the front pocket, you keep a little commonplace book to take notes. You  make your way back to the pursers office. The man behind the desk gives you a service smile and asks how he can help you. 

“Do you happen to have the passenger list?” you ask. “I would like to know where some people’s cabins are located.”

“What is your name?” the purser wonders. 

“Axel Ainsworth.”

“Who are you wanting to find?”

“Hedwig Carter and Silas Achilleos.”

The purser disappears into his office. You wait impatiently, suddenly feeling watched. Carefully, you glance over your shoulder, but the only ones in eyesight are two men who are conversing. The purser returns. You fish out your notebook, ready to note it down. 

“Miss Carter has cabin B-23 and Mister Achilleos has cabin A-11.”

You write it down. “Thank you.”

With that said, you leave to go to the staircase. You’re not sure where to go, so you decide to take a stroll down the enclosed promenade while thinking. Doctor Kry knows more, you think, but he doesn’t want to tell. 

You sit down on one of the deck chairs to write down what you have gotten to know, so that you won’t forget any important information. You write down the suspects' motives to steal the painting, Silas’s weird enemy, their relation to each other — which only connects Edmund, Kry, Jerry and Hedwig — as well as the answers that you have gotten from Doctor Kry earlier today. Who has the painting? Your first instinct says that Doctor Kry doesn’t have it, because he’s not interested in that painting. Had it been the Mona Lisa, things would have been different, but this painting doesn’t interest him. That doesn’t mean that the painting couldn’t be in his room, though, because Edmund could still want to have it. 

You stand up after a while and continue walking. Your eyes fixate on something in the distance. A woman dressed in pants talking to a man in a suit that seems to be hiding in the corner of the promenade. You frown. 

What does Jerry have to do with Silas's second in command? 

You want to move closer, but you don’t want to expose yourself. You’ll have to change the relations in your notes, because there’s clearly something more than you’ve been led to know. 

What if Jerry’s lack of background has something to do with the mafia? It would explain her tattoos … that or being a sailor. But because of what you've just witnessed you can most likely scratch the latter. A shiver runs down your spine. If Jerry is dangerous, then Hedwig could be too. You stop in your tracks. Hedwig? Really? Edmund said it himself, she's a stupid, naive girl. Could she be dangerous?

You walk up to the open deck in the stern of the first class accommodations where you find a few kids playing something reminding you of curling. You sit down on the zig-zag benches placed out on the deck and watch them. They notice you looking and ask you to join them, so you do. You decide that maybe you can pleasure yourself in a harmless children's game for a few minutes, and continue the mission after.

When lunchtime rolls around, you make your way down to the dining hall. It's emptier than yesterday evening. You find Silas and his second in command sit by a table. Silas notices you and waves you over. Your feet bring you to him.

“Sorry to cut our talk short yesterday, Axel”, he says politely and gesticulates at the chair in front of him. “Sit down. Let me buy you lunch.”

And so, he does. You sit down and try your best not to glance at the second in command who’s black eyes burn through you. Your stomach twists. 

You both get lamb, something you have eaten many times before. Still, it tastes better at sea.

“What did you say that you were here for again?” Silas asks suddenly as he’s cutting his meat.

His voice sounds different from yesterday. You clear your throat to make sure that your voice won’t shiver.

“I’ve been on a business trip”, you say. “And now I’m going home.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. What I mean is that you didn’t tell me why you were in France. What kind of business trip was it? What did you do? I know that you were there for art, but what do one do on an art business trip? You have to forgive me for being curious.”

“I was meeting some people from the Louvre.”

“I see. About what?”

“Art’s future, how to make sure they don’t break or smudge or get tainted by the sun. And how to protect them. You must have heard about ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’ missing?”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t it weird that someone would steal that painting? Why not a Monet painting? Or the Mona lisa?”

“I don’t know. Maybe taking one of them would be too big of a deal. Maybe the one taking the painting thought that since it isn’t one of the most cherished, they’d have an easier time taking it … that the commotion about it would die out sooner or later.”

“Perhaps.” 

You’ve noticed that you haven’t heard the second in command’s voice at all, beside the talk he had with Silas yesterday. He doesn’t speak to anyone else than Silas … and Jerry. You still don’t dare look at him, scared that he will see right through you and know that you’ve seen him talk to her. You wonder what they were talking about.

“Did you have a good time yesterday?” Silas asks.

“Yes, I did”, you reply.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, I didn’t. I chit-chatted with some people here and there, but kept mostly to myself.”

“You do good in that. You never know who you can trust on a big ship as this. You never know who wants you good or not.”

“Why are you traveling, Silas?” you ask innocently. “You said that you were impatient to get to America. Is there a reason?”

“Of course. Everything has a reason. But I don’t think I can share that with you. At least I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Silas turns his black eyes to you and smiles slightly. His hungry gaze makes you freeze. He had seemed so sweet yesterday, but you finally see a slice of what makes him so terrifying. 

“Because someone like you shouldn’t know that”, he smiles. 

“I understand”, you say and take a piece of food into your mouth, to avoid speaking further.

“You have to excuse my man here”, Silas says and nods at his second in command. “He’s the shy type. He goes wherever I go, so you have to get used to him.”

“Is he your bodyguard?” you wonder. 

“You could say that. But I’m always prepared in case someone wants to attack me.”

He opens his blazer, showing you a revolver tucked into the fabric. You have your own in your suitcase. Walking around with it feels too risky, but maybe you’ll have to go get it. In case anything happens.

After lunch, you’re left with a weird feeling in your stomach. You have talked with him for an hour, about everything between heaven and earth … and yet it feels like you have been having two conversations in one — one on the surface and one real. 

You walk to your cabin and press down the door handle and walk into the room. The first thing that strikes you as odd is that there’s a new smell in the air. A flowery scent. You can swear that you have felt it before. Without a second to waste, you open your bag and pick up your gun, putting it in your suit. Quickly, you turn around, realizing something. Didn’t you lock the door when you went out this morning?

That evening, you spend dinner with the two girls and stay in the smoking room with Edmund for what feels like an eternity. Edmund wants to play a deck of cards with you. He seems a bit more relaxed than yesterday and even smiles a bit. 

After your games against Edmund, you decide to retreat. You walk down the long, dimly lit corridor. The narrow spaces feel almost ominous at night time, although barely any daylight reaches here at daytime either. You glance over your shoulder every tenth step, hesitating, can't help but feel watched. Your hand reaches for your gun, but before you have time to get it, someone reaches up behind you and smashes something heavy in your head. Everything turns black.

DAY 3 — SEA

“He's waking up.”

Your eyes feel like lead, and your head is even heavier. It takes a few tries to open your eyes and when you finally manage to, you want nothing more than to close them again. For a few seconds, you wonder if you're dreaming. They're all here, looking down at you. You look around and notice that they've tied your hands and feet, and left you on the floor at the end of the bed, with your back against the footrest.

You catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. Just a bit past one in the morning. The third day has begun. You have been blacked out for three hours.

Your head is pounding, making it hard to think clearly.

Jerry bends down, grabs your chin and turns your head back and forth to inspect the damage caused on your head.

“He'll live”, she says and gives your cheek a quick, but harsh, tap.

“Well, well, Y/N”, Silas says, smirking. “You're a bit nosy aren't you?”

The mention of your name causes you to twitch and widen your eyes. In your dulled stage, you wonder if you've heard wrong, but the smirk in their faces confirm that you have, indeed, not lost your hearing.

“So, you were the agent”, Silas continues and shrugs. “I gotta admit, I was hoping that it wasn't you.”

“You were smart-”, Doctor Kry starts. 

“But not smart enough”, Edmund cuts him off sharply with his arms crossed over his chest. “‘Art dealer’, yeah, sure. A detective dealing with art. That's not the same, Y/N, if you didn't know that.”

Silas picks up something from his pocket, a small commonplace book. 

“‘Suspects are all interested in art, could be any of them’”, he reads out loud. “‘J involved with S? Talked with SIC.’ Jerry? Involved with me? Talked with my second in command? You seem to have it all written down.”

“I was involved with Silas”, Jerry says. “I know his second in command very well.”

“How—How did you … know?” you ask, baffled. “Were you all in on it?”

“Not from the start, no”, Doctor Kry says. “I only knew Edmund and had met Hedwig before. I didn’t even know Jerry, Silas or his second in command.”

You quickly realize that Jerry is the linking chain between them. She linked Hedwig, Edmund and Kry to Silas and his second in command. 

“I had already been informed and knew that there would be someone on this ship out to get me”, Silas says. “I heard that Jerry was on board and caught up with her. She told me that she and Hedwig had met you. It was her that thought it was weird that you asked all of us about art. My men dug, and found out your real identity. My men saw you speaking with the purser, hearing you ask for our cabins and decided to tell it all to me and my second in command, who told Jerry … who told the others.”

“You have more men?” you ask and can’t hide how shocked you get.

“Of course. You don’t think I would go on board with only one man? Do you think I'm stupid, darling? You, on the other hand, probably should have had someone, at least.” 

“Awfully inconsiderate of your bosses, don't you think, to send you all alone?” Jerry says.

“You were looking for this, weren’t you?” Edmund asks and pulls out something from a wooden box behind him. 

You stare at it with wide eyes. The painting.

“Who—Who had it?” you can’t help but question, gulping between the first word. 

“Me, of course”, Edmund says with an offended, yet proud scoff. “It will do nicely in my castle.”

“Now, little Y/N, you know”, Silas says. “Are you happy now? Your mystery is solved.”

Your head hurts too much to answer. You’re not sure if you’re happy. You have learned where the painting disappeared, but you’re tied and hurt, and in the enemies’ grasp. A mixed bag, so to say. 

“I can’t watch the blood”, Hedwig suddenly says and stands up from the armchair she's sitting on. 

She has been the only one that hasn’t smirked at you and seems genuinely apologetic that you're here, but you don't trust that damsel in distress look anymore. She pushes through the others to reach you with a wet handkerchief in her hands. Carefully, she kneels down in front of you and wipes the wet cloth against your forehead. She wipes away the dried blood gently.

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, coming your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly. 

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says. “But you will have to stay in here, I’m afraid. You probably understand that we cannot let someone like you wander around the ship.”

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.” He gives you a testing look before turning to his new companions. “Oh, and one more thing …” He picks up a familiar revolver, spinning it around his hand. “... thank you for the free gun.”

You want to curse at him, but keep quiet for your own sake.

“It's late, the ladies should head to bed”, he says, gesturing for Hedwig and Jerry to leave. “We need to keep someone here to make sure that our little Golden Boy won't free himself and run around, causing trouble.”

“I can take the first shift”, Doctor Kry says and golds up a syringe filled with a translucent liquid.

“Do not harm him, you hear me?” Silas tells him warningly. “I want him alive, coherent and unharmed.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Edmund questions angrily. “In this cabin? Now that I'll have people staring at me?”

“You and Doctor Kry will take Y/N’s cabin”, Silas says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Stop being so spoiled, your majesty.”

“Won't that be suspicious?” Silas’s second in command questions. “If they see the young king exit and enter someone else's cabin instead of his own?”

“No one knows his cabin”, Silas says as if things were obvious. “Besides, we're in New York tomorrow anyways. It won't be a problem.” He turns to the others. “Scatter.”

The five of them walk out, leaving you and Doctor Kry alone. The doctor sits down in one of the two armchairs in front of you with a long, tired sigh. In his hand, he twirls the syringe.

“What is that?” you mutter.

“Something that will make you go to sleep if you're trying to escape”, Doctor Kry says simply, as if he was talking about watering flowers.

“Why did you hit me in the head if you had that instead?” you ask bitterly.

“Because it wasn't me, it was the second in command and Jerry.”

“Did you lie down in the swimming pool? About not knowing where Jerry came from?”

“No, Y/N, why would I? I told you that I didn't know anything. I didn't get to know until this afternoon.”

“And yet you're quick to jump the wagon to get me killed. I thought doctors were supposed to be nice.”

“I’ve never said that I was nice.”

“What do you gain from this? Why do you want to engage in collusion with people like this? What kind of doctor even are you?”

“Still, with all these questions … look, Y/N, it’s late. You’d do good in trying to get some sleep.”

“On the floor? With my head pounding in pain? With my hands and feet tied?”

“Suit yourself.”

There’s a deadly silence after that. You listen to the sounds the Normandie creates, and somehow wishes that she could save you, but you’re trapped within her, there’s nothing to be done. You rest your head back onto the edge of the footrest and sigh heavily. Doctor Kry looks at his syringe as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever witnessed.

“I'm thirsty”, you say after a while. 

Doctor Kry stands up, walks over to the dressing table where a crystal carafe is waiting and pours you a glass. He returns to you and holds the glass to your lips, making you drink. You gulp it down and breathe heavily. Doctor Kry returns to his armchair. 

You don't know how long you've been sitting on the floor before you start to fall asleep. You thought that you wouldn't, not in this position (figuratively and literally) but you somehow fall asleep. 

“Wakey wakey, Golden Boy.”

You feel someone poke your head to the side multiple times and open your eyes to see Jerry hold a stick in her hand which she's using to poke your head.

“It's morning”, she says.

You groan groggily. She imitates you and chuckles.

“Did you have a pleasant night?” she teases.

You decide not to answer, not to humor her further. Your eyes draft onto a silver tray on the table.

“Yes, that's your breakfast”, Jerry says and lifts the tray, putting it on the floor in front of you before sitting down. 

She picks up a piece of toast and holds it to your mouth. You take a bite, feeling more humiliated than ever. If only you knew that this was where you'd end up when you stepped on board in France.

“We will be in New York tomorrow”, Jerry says, holding the toast to your lips. “And we'll sneak both you and the painting past your contact.”

“It's just a painting”, you say cluelessly. “Why do you all want it so much?”

“I’m not particularly interested in the painting, but I know that Edmund and Hedwig are.”

“Why?”

“Art nerds.”

“Is it even selling for much?”

“It is — if you give it to the right consumer.”

“And you? What do you gain from this?”

“The thing isn’t about what I gain, it is what I lose … in case I let you roam freely. I don’t trust what you will do with the painting or it’s contents. Plus, you know who I am. If you wouldn’t have stuck your nosy head in everything, you wouldn’t have any problem with me.”

You suddenly realize something. 

“Jerry, I need to go to the bathroom”, you say. “I haven’t been to the bathroom since before you knocked me in the head.”

She sighs heavily. “Alright, come here.”

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry. 

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs until you can’t have children.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands bitterly. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding. 

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip. 

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by. You need to find an officer. You need to get higher.

Shit, the painting!

Your heart is beating loudly in your chest as you scurry back into the cabin. Jerry is lying on the floor, unconscious, and you almost feel bad for knocking her, but you know that it had to be done. It was her or you. Quickly, you open the wooden box and fish out the painting, tucking it under your arm. You can't hide it in your cabin, not when they know about it. You have to dispose of it somewhere safe.

Every step you take is careful, planned and mortified. You clutch the painting tightly, as if it is life itself.

Moving through the long corridor, you're certain that someone will jump out behind a corner and knock you out, like yesterday. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, almost making you nauseous. You continue through the corridor, over to the hall with the staircases. Your suit has dried blood on it, you look (and feel) manic, will anyone take you seriously?

You freeze as you see a pair of eyes on you. Kry. His blue eyes seem to darken as he notices you, and the painting.

Quickly, you throw yourself into the elevator, and press a random button, wanting the doors to close before Doctor Kry reaches you. And they do, but when you look at the display beside you, you're going the opposite to where you need to go. New plan, you think, I have to sneak into tourist class — or third class, whatever gets you furthest away.

While standing in the elevator, you take a look at the painting to make sure that it hasn’t been damaged in this mess. You turn it around to inspect the canvas and notice something stuck in the corner of the wooden brackets. Carefully, you reach your fingers in and pull out a folded paper. Tucking the painting between your arm and your waist, you unfold the paper to find a list of names and locations … some of which you recognize. They’re all wanted criminals and you guess that the ones you don’t recognize are criminals as well. And the locations …

Your body goes cold and stiff. For a few moments, it feels like the entire world has stopped spinning. This is suddenly more serious than you could ever expect. Quickly, you put the paper in the pocket of your black pants.

You make your way through corridors you haven’t been in before, through doors you’re sure you’re not allowed through. You can’t help but look around at the new environment. Despite being one of Normandie’s lower classes, the attention to detail had been given to every centimeter of the ship. 

Focus!

You’re not sure where you’re going, but you need to find someone that can help you. You consider giving it to a random passenger and ask them to give them to an officer, but in your entire training, you have been told not to pull innocent civilians into your job. They could get seriously hurt and it would be completely your own fault. 

You make your way through tourist class, making sure not to be seen by anyone. If Silas have more people than you thought, why wouldn’t they be in multiple classes? You’re not even sure why the painting have caused this big of a commotion, but there’s no way you can give up the painting now — not after everything you’ve gone through. Your head is still pounding from the glass bottle and your heart beating out of your chest by the sight of Doctor Kry. He knows that you’re roaming freely, and soon, they all will know … and they will look for you. Silas’s words still ring in your ear; “I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free” — well you surely don’t. But where can one run where the space is limited? It’s not like you can grab a lifeboat and sail your way to safety. The sea can be just as dangerous as the people you’re dealing with. 

You look around for someone in black uniform, desperately wanting to find someone to help you before you get a bullet through your head. Finally, you find a steward carrying a metal tray. Like lightning had struck through you, you barge forward and grab his arm. 

“Sir, you have to help me!” you hiss and pull him into an empty corridor. 

“What are you doing-?” he gasps. 

“Please listen and listen quickly”, you whisper in pure panic. The words fall out of your mouth incoherently, but you somehow manage to create the sentences you need for the steward to listen to you. “I have to get to the Captain! Like … now! It’s really, really urgent! Please, just trust me!”

You look around with wide eyes, heart now pounding in your throat. The steward nods in confusion and signals for you to come with him. You’re not sure why he decides to trust you, but you’re ever so grateful for it. He takes you through hidden passages used for staff so that none of the paying passengers will have to see them, up a couple of steep stairs and through some more doors. You hug the painting tightly against your roaring chest. Every corner makes your heart stop, terrified that someone will stand on the other side and knock you out the second you turn. 

The steward points at a door with a golden sign on it — ‘Officers’ quarters’. You pound on the door until you’re sure your knuckles bleed. A stern looking man in neat uniform opens, giving you a dark look. 

“Who are you?” he questions. “What do you want?”

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m an agent of the crown and this is the missing painting that has been all over the news … you have to keep it secure until we reach New York.”

The officer looks confused as he takes the painting in his hands and lets you into the quarters. 

“You’re bloody, what happened to you, sir?”

“There’s six passengers — Mr Achilleos and his man, His Majesty Edmund of Vesanus, Doctor Karl Kry, Miss Hedwig Carter and Miss Jerry Kim. They knocked me out and kept me in a cabin the entire night. They’re working together. They want this painting …”

… and probably my life by now.

“ … keep it safe”, you beg the officer and feel your voice quiver. “Please. If i can’t meet you at the harbor when we dock tomorrow, please give it to my contact — I will write down his name —  and tell him that he can find further information on board the ship.”

“I will tell the captain about the passengers, they will be taken care of and kept in arrest until we reach land where the police will deal with them”, the officer says.

“Thank you. A lot. Really.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

You feel for the note in your pocket and shake your head. “I have to do something first.”

The officer nodded. On shaky legs, you open the door and walk out into the corridor again. The steward is long gone and you’re alone in an unfamiliar corridor. You suddenly feel exhausted and decide to stay close to the door for a few moments to catch your breath, as if the officers’ quarter was a safe place. 

The note has to be hidden somewhere across the ship so that your contact can find it in case you don’t make it out alive. The note is more important than the painting and can, under no circumstances, go in the wrong hands. These names have to reach your contact. The group will look for the painting in belief that the note is still there, so the note has to be hidden separately so that they won’t find it. 

You make your way through the corridors slowly, making sure not to be caught with the list of names on you. In a weird, panic filled daze, you make your way through corridors, through lounges and dining halls where you hide the note. Underneath a chair, stuck to the corner. You deice to find your way back to the officers’ quarters and somehow find yourself out on deck. The wind is grabbing at you, pulling you left and right. You have a hard time keeping yourself on your feet. No one else is outside and you suspect it has to do with the fact that it’s early in the morning and the dark gray sky above you threat of rain.

“Y/N, don’t move.”

You turn to see the second in command with a gun in his hand.

“If you shoot me you'll ruin your life”, you say to him as confidentially as you can muster, but you can't help but worry if he's going to pull the trigger. 

“Do you think I care?” the second in command questions with a scoff. “I serve my boss until my last breath, I couldn't care less about other trivial matters. Where's the painting?”

“You don't care for the painting. Ask me instead where the note is.”

His eyebrow twitches.

“You know about the note, huh?” he says, eyes narrowing. “Seems like I'll have to get that out of you.”

“Why don't you have your boss do it? Or is he in arrest?”

“Don't worry about him, he always comes out on top. Come with me now or I will shoot you-”

“Shoot me then. The note is hidden and the painting is with trusted people.”

“Idiot. Do you think I was born yesterday? If I shoot you, I can't get the note. You may be stupid, but i dont think youre careless enough To sacrifice yourself for such a trivial thing. Get over here. Now.”

You're unarmed and alone, but if there's one thing you've been taught, it is to not give up without a fight. Your eyes catch onto an officer patrolling the upper deck and whistle. As the second in command takes his eyes off of you, you dive head first into the swimming pool. From his perspective, you don't think — wish — that he sees the man above him. The water wraps around you like a cold blanket and for a few seconds you can't even feel the wetness, only biting cold that almost makes you gasp under the surface. Somewhere, you think that you can hear a gunshot and see something whooshing past you in the water. And then another, and another. And then nothing.

You don't return to the surface until you're sure that the bullet rain has stopped. Your burning lungs gasp for air and you grip the ladder to your left. The second in command has been wrestled down on the deck by the same officer you saw. A smile tugs at your lips as the second in command glares at you from the floor, smashed against the planks.

“Sir, are you alright?” the officer asks, panting.

“I'm okay”, you reply, panting heavier.

An ice cold wind cuts right through you.

“Go inside”, the officer tells you.

“Y/N!” the second in command shouts as you've started to walk. “Don't forget that there are more. You barely know half of the people we have on board. Don't think for a second that you are safe!”

You pretend not to hear him and make your way inside for warmth. Unsure of where to go because of the second in command’s words, you return to the officers’ quarters.

That evening, you make your way down to the arrest. There are still two questions you haven’t gotten an answer to. You've gotten your gun back from a steward and have tucked it in your blazer. Nausea is eating you up from the inside as you walk into the room, watching the cell and its habitants.

“Look who it is”, you hear Jerry snicker. “Change your mind, Golden Boy? Do you want us out?”

You don't even bother to answer.

“The painting is in a safe place, and so are the note”, you say. “I suppose that Jerry, Silas and your second in command wanted the note and not the painting … and Edmund and Hedwig wanted the painting … but what did the Doctor want?”

“Me?” Kry asks coldly and walks over to the bars with his arms crossed. “What I wanted?”

“Yes”, you reply.

“You, of course. Imagine, my own little lab rat that I could do whatever I wanted with … no one would even bat an eye if both you and the painting disappeared.”

“You won't get any of it.” You let your eyes wander over the six people. “Not the painting, not the note, and absolutely not me. Jail is what you will get.”

You can hear Hedwig start to sob in the corner of the cell. She has sunken down along the wall with her head hanging between her knees, body shaking with sobs. Edmund sighs and walks over to her side, grabbing her shoulders and trying to pull her up on her feet.

“Don't cry”, he says quietly. “We won't go to jail, I will make sure of that. I won't allow it.”

“Did you just come down here to revel in our misery?” Silas asks you. 

You're not sure why you came down here. Did you want to make sure to yourself that they were behind bars? Or make you feel more powerful? Or even just get to see them?

“You do know that we will have our revenge, don’t you?” Edmund says and looks at you. “This is not the end.”

“I hope that you like being a dog, because that's what you're going to be, leash and all”, Silas scoffs.

“Tattooed”, Jerry adds on with a tilted smile. “Marked. Would Golden boy like that?”

You ignore her, and walk over to the cells bars, eyes glued onto Hedwig. 

“What were you doing in my cabin?” you ask. 

She freezes, looking cluelessly at you through her teary eyes.

“What?” she asks in shock. 

“Your perfume was all over my cabin”, you say coldly. “Why were you in my cabin?”

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N!” she cries and runs over to the bars, reaching out for you. 

You back away.

“I’m sorry, I-I … I looked through your things. I couldn’t help it, I just … I really, really wanted to hold you. I didn’t take anything, I promise! Please believe me, Y/N, I just wanted to- … it doesn’t matter. Forgive me.”

You don’t answer. Maybe Hedwig isn’t as sweet and innocent as you thought. 

DAY 4 — End of voyage

After your hell night last night you couldn't be more grateful for the somewhat pleasant night you had. Every single sound and movement woke you up, preparing you to see one of the six criminals or their acquaintances. And since a ship is in constant movement and makes sounds only God knows about, you barely slept for an hour straight. But at least you were in a warm bed.

You can't eat anything during breakfast. You stare at the sandwich and steaming coffee in front of you with a twisted stomach. The room is filled with passengers, like normal, but the bright room can’t be more dark and sinister. It is as if someone has drained it of color. Any of the smiling guests can be one that want to put a bullet through your skull, and is waiting for you to rise from your chair and follow you outside.

When a waiter comes over to your table, the coffee has stopped steaming. 

“Good morning, sir”, he says politely and places a silver tray with a silver cloche on your table. 

“What is this?” you ask in confusion. 

“A gentleman told me to give this to you. He has paid for it and everything.”

With that said, he smiles and walks away to continue his job. You glance down at the dome looking metal and feel your heart sink. Although you don’t want to, your heart reaches out to pull it away and reveal whatever is lying on the silver tray underneath. You’re not sure what you are expecting but a small, folded paper is certainly not it. As if on autopilot, you open the paper to see only a line. 

“We will be waiting for you when we dock, you won’t get past us. We are watching you.”

You were right. A knot appears in your throat. Your legs go numb. You will be killed. 

The air is hard to breathe in and you have to get out before you suffocate. You get out on the deck with the lifeboats hanging above your head and lean against the railing. In a few hours, Normandie would dock and you would be caught. You’re not sure that the steward who had helped you before would be able to save you, and you don’t want to put him in more danger … but you can’t step off the ship in New York’s harbor. The lifeboat above your head gives you an idea. A stupid, right out ridiculous idea … 

You look around you before your shaking hands release the lifeboat from its holds. You have been taught the most outrageous things to rescue yourself — including lowering an ocean liner’s lifeboat. The davits slowly bring the lifeboat downwards and you climb in, lying down to avoid being seen. Your body trembles with fear, unsure of what this will bring you … or where it will bring you. 

There's nothing on the ship that you should bring with you. There's no guarantee that the lifeboat will reach the harbor safely, but its a try. The painting will be more secure with the steward. 

You feel a ‘thump’ from when the lifeboat hits the waves underneath you. You see how Normandie towers above you, the black steel never seeming to end. A pair of heads stick out from the side and something hits the water beside you. Quickly, you cover your body with your arms and legs, curling up until all vital organs are covered. Hitting you with bullets on this distance are harder than one can think, but not impossible. The second you’re sure that they can’t reach you, you get up and start to paddle. If the men tell a steward about the missing lifeboat, they’ll steer their ship over here to get you. 

Your arms quickly grow sore. From now on, you’re entirely alone. There’s no one to save you in case anything happens and you will have to find your way to land by yourself. But it's better than being on board the ship.

The sea around you feels abnormally calm. There’s no distinctive sounds apart from the waves hitting the side of the lifeboat. 

You sit for a moment, taking the time to think. This case has been different from all the others you have done. More personal than you could ever have anticipated. You’re not sure why, but something with this case told you that things wouldn’t be over if they got their way. It was more than just materia, they want you too … to use as they please. Doctor Kry was right. Who would bat an eye if you disappeared along with the painting? They wouldn’t call it a kidnapping, it would be a disappearance that could be explained by the painting. And now they have none of it. Not the painting, not the list of criminals and not you. Pretty successful, you think. Maybe you succeeded this mission after all? 

You hiss as you touch your sensitive head. You’ll have to find a doctor in New York.

Hours go by. You row, you rest, row, rest, row, rest. Throw up. Damn if you have gotten a concussion, you think, but it’s probably just the sea air making you nauseous. 

How things had turned out. You thought that you would have had to deal with one or two criminals … not six. Ad how Silas had seen right through you … 

It’s over now. It will be over soon. Is it over?

You continue to row. 

in the distance, you see a fishing ship pulling up their net and you wave with your arms in hope for them to see you, which they inevitably do. Your exhausted, cold body is picked up and wrapped in an old blanket. 

“What were you doing out in a lifeboat like that?” one of the old sailors asks. “Which ship has sunk?”

“It’s the Normandie!” another one says as he reads the name on the wooden planks. “Has the Normandie sunk?!”

You tell them that it hasn’t suck — in fact, it’s steaming on better ad stronger than ever — but that an accident had happened, which resulted in you all alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. 

They give you a yellow rain coat that you use to hide in and join the sailors to New York’s harbor that evening. In the distance, you see the different ocean liner piers. Cunard-White Star Line, United States Lines, HAPAG, Italian Lines, Swedish-American Lines … and finally, Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. Normandie was towering above all the other liners and you stood there on the pier, looking at it. Four days ago, you had been standing in the harbor at Le Havre and been excited to step on board. But now, that you are looking at it from afar, in the dim lights, there’s something unsettling about the her. It looks like she’s apologizing to you for everything that she allowed to happen between her walls. You almost start to cry. 

You turn around and walk without giving the ship one more glance, hoping that it will be the last time you get to see the Normandie. 

You meet up with your contact in a small warehouse that following morning and tell him what you have hidden on the ship. He promises to retrieve it. He already has the painting and has secured it, had gotten it from the very steward you had left it with. 

“I have something else too”, he says and gives you an apologetic look. 

“What?” you ask and watch him closely as he takes out a paper from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You open the paper and feel your blood go icy cold. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the nickname you see written in black …

“Thought you could lock us in? Think twice, Golden boy, we’re already out. We’ll find you, be so sure of that. Don’t think that we will let you slip away. You will look good in a leash.

S.A”

You fold the paper just as quick and breathe out a shaky breath. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you will be protected”, your contact promises. “It will not be any problem, I assure you.”

With the six people’s contacts and power, you doubt that your protection will do much, but you nod. The painting is safe and the note is safe. They may have escaped jail and are looking for you, but you succeeded with your mission. And that is all that matters.

[almalvo]

About An Official Spiderverse Artist...

Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.

If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.

But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:

I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.

So here I am.

And I got something to say about a certain "artist".

There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.

Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).

There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.

If you have seen this:

Then you have seen this artist before.

His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.

He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.

Yes. Former.

Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.

You may have also seen this character before:

Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".

Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.

I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.

BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:

Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).

13. year. old. child.

This man only sees east asian women this way.

He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--

and young.

Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:

Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.

Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.

And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -

His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.

His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.

They look as creepy as they are.

But the scariest part?

While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.

And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.

And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.

So yeah.

I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.

My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.

Keep away.

Do not support this man.

But the decision is ultimately yours.

Stay awake, yall.

-------

(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):

scary.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

a day in the life where everyone tries to win reader over, maybe they heard reader mention something like how they can't stand an annoying relative asking them about a relationship over the holidays, or trying to get her the best gift?

ps i love your writing, i read it like my morning paper

A Day in Life: Christmas, Presents and Revelations

Synopsis: A day in your life full of good Christmas presents, propositions and secrets.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: Implied stalking; Calling someone a manwhore; Karens in the family with traditional and conservative ideals and miserable lives; Mentions of past cheating; Mentions of past Bucky Barnes X reader; Is Hal Jordan slowly getting his redemption arc?; Slightly implied horny Reader; English is not my first language.

Word count: 2,2k

Requested? Yup.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— And it's just so annoying, like, sometimes I literally don't want to show up on these things, but I don't want to leave my mom there alone with my dad’s family. — You huffed. — My auntie’s too concerned about my romantic life, like her husband didn't get other three women pregnant at the same time she got pregnant and only married her because he would have to marry one of the four girls. — You shook your head while your co-worker laughed. — And you know what's worse? I told everyone I had a boyfriend, but Bucky cheated on me, and I didn't tell them that yet, so she's gonna think I lied and mock me like the middle-aged Regina George she is!

Unknown to you, certain people were listening, and silently, each one of them made a decision.

Your last day at work before Christmas, you were getting ready to go home, pack and take the road, when someone knocked on your office door. You looked up, seeing no other than Martian Manhunter at your door, holding a present.

— How can I help? — You hid your gritted teeth behind a polite tone.

— I came here to follow the Earth tradition of Christmas and give my loved one a present. — He stopped in front of you with a soft smile and extended the gift in your direction. You hesitated.

— You didn't have to… — You cautiously took the present from his hand.

— I also have a proposition for you. — And there it comes. — I couldn't help but overhear earlier that you were in need of a partner for a meeting with your family. — You wanted to facepalm. — I could be that person. — You sighed.

— I can't show up with an alien superhero. — You crossed your arms with a pointed look.

— As you know, I'm a shapeshifter. — You watched as he changed his appearance to look like multiple different kind of people, one moment he was a tall blonde man, the next, a black girl with braids, then an asian young guy, and so on, meaning he could look however you wanted him to. — And you can call me by whatever name you choose, even the name I adopted here on Earth… J’onn J’onnes. — He settled for his usual green alien appearance. — You widened your eyes at his confession, thinking “oh, shit”.

— Uhh…

— While you think about it, open my present, darling. — He gently pushed the present in your direction again and you, still wordless, obeyed, while mentally searching for a way out of this.

You cleared your throat and teared the paper. The feeling of destroying the wrapping paper of gifts always made you feel a little embarrassed, as if the beautiful wrapping itself was the present and you were being rude by tearing it apart. It was a silly thought.

As you finished, you found out he gave you a comic book from your favorite hero. It made you excited, but you couldn't show it much.

— Oh wow, thank you… — You coughed. — Can't even imagine how you knew it was my favorite… — You internally rolled your eyes. — Anyway, about your offer- — Another knock interrupted you, and you both looked at the door. Aquaman was there with another present in hand.

He looked suspiciously from you to the other hero and stepped forward, then focused on you.

— Whatever offer he gave you, I give you one better. Take a king to meet your family, darling. — He smirked and offered you his present. You ignored what he said, settled the comic on your desk, and opened his present. It was a necklace with charms related to the beach, like some shells, pears and fishes, all made of your favorite metal. You pursed your lips, not waiting to admit to yourself that it was pretty and you liked it more than you thought you would, just like the last gift.

— Thank you. And about your offer, I can't exactly do that. You can imagine why. — He shrugged.

— Well, you can simply take me as your completely human lighthouse keeper, Arthur. — He smirked and wrapped your shoulders with his left arm. You shuddered, thinking “God, no”. — We’ll even invite them to our beach house, darling. Right on the shore. I also have a boat. Let's impress them. — He grinned proudly, as if he was sure you couldn't deny him.

You shrugged his arm off and before anything came out of your mouth, you remembered about your auntie and her shittalking right now. She always wanted a beach house, but everyone knew your uncle prefered to spoil himself and his side-pieces than her or the kids, and yet, she felt superior to every member of the family who was single because at least she had a husband and she didn't need to work, including you.

Rubbing a beach house, a boat, and a blonde hunk himbo on her face could be nice… Even if you just offered to take only your immediate family there one day and then just pretend you broke up with him later, he and the league would still get the wrong idea.

— Knock knock, oh- What’s everyone doing here? — Flash was there and pursed his lips while looking at the three of you. You groaned internally.

— You can go, Flash, (Y/N) won't choose you. — Aquaman, or Arthur, weaved him off. Flash narrowed his eyes for a second and then turned to you, ignoring him and beaming at you, extending a gift in your direction.

— I bought you something! — You discharged the necklace behind you and took the new gift, it was a bracelet with a lightning symbol in your favorite metal. It was also pretty, you were getting tired of it.

— Thank you, Flash…

— Please, just call me Barry. — He grinned brightly. — Please ignore the stinking ugly dressed fishman and the alien still learning to act like a normal human. You can take the funny and smart forensic chemist to meet your family. — He reached up and took his mask off, you widened your eyes, at seeing his real face. Huh, you didn't think he was blonde.

You stuttered, too shocked.

— Oh God… — You thought knowing their name was worse than their faces, secret identities and all, but something about seeing a real face that was kept hidden all the time felt like a heavier burden. To make matters worse, Green Lantern showed up. — No.

— Just hear me out, please! — Everyone turned to him with annoyed expressions. — I changed, I swear! And I apologized like, a thousand times. — He cleared his throat. By your face, he knew it was the worst thing to say. — Anyway, here’s your gift. — He bit his lip while you took it from his hands and opened it with hostility. They were tickets for the next concert of one of your favorite artists, that made you feel a little bad for the way you treated him, but it didn't change what he did to you in the past.

— I… Thank you. — You were trembling with nerves at this point from all the surprises you were having.

— I heard you needed someone to bring home for the holidays…

— Uhuh.

— And your dad is a big fan of the army, right? — You blinked. It was true, but you never told them that, yet, you weren't surprised they knew that.

Where was he going with it…?

— Please, not you too.

But he took off his ring anyway, and after a moment, he was wearing civilian clothes, along with a military jacket and dogtags.

— Who better than a charming ex-air force member to present to your family? Test pilot now, I can take them flying. Actually, I can take you flying. — He winked. — Call me Hal Jordan, beautiful. — He winked and saluted you. — Also, I fought in the war.

— Dude. Just give up. They're not gonna pick you.

— I will never give up, I'm a green lantern, strong will is kind of my thing. — He looked at you again. — So, darling?

While you were staring blankly at him, someone cleared their throat.

— Be reasonable, you don't have to be humiliated today. — Wonder Woman catwalked into the room confidently. She was holding two bags from a clothes store in her hands. The amazon pushed Hal Jordan aside and stopped in front of you. She looked you up and down and smiled charmingly. — Take me with you, darling. This is for you. — She extended one of the bags to you. You took it and looked inside, then reached in and pulled it out. It was a beautiful outfit, completely on your style, and clearly of good quality. But when she pulled out what was inside the other bag, it took your attention and you looked curiously at the red wine satin dress she was holding up. — And this is what I will be wearing. — She smiled seductively. — Diana Prince, pleasure to meet you.

You couldn't help your jaw from dropping while imagining her wearing that. While some family members might not admire the sensual outfit as much, you definitely would. Secretly. Your ego would too.

Damn it, why couldn't she be more normal and less yandere?

You swallowed, looking away from her and the dress. It was finally too hard to say no, but not for the mature reasons.

At your silence, Diana’s eyebrows rose up and she tilted her head to the side, with a pleased small smile. The other men in the room groaned and started arguing loudly, but she was untouchable in front of you.

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

— I think I should just go home, it's getting late… — You rapidly shoved your gifts inside the bag, took your things and squeezed your way between them heroes, not even realizing how trapped you were previously, but just as you got to the door, you hit a brick wall, or Superman, as people usually call him.

You groaned and he looked at you sheepishly.

— I guess after all of that I can't offer you something much better, but I can try… — Superman took a deep breath and before you could blink, he flew away, changed clothes, and came back. One second, Superman was in front of you, the next, just a regular cute guy wearing glasses and a suit. You took a second to recognize him and understand what happened and what that meant.

Damn, who knew glasses were a good disguise.

— I'm Clark, Clark Kent. I grew up on a farm in Kansas and I work as a journalist at the Daily Planet. — He smiled shyly and gave you his gift. — I hope you like it…

You blinked and catatonically looked at the thing he gave you. Differently from the last gifts, it wasn't neatly wrapped and it had a weird shape, but by how it felt in your hands, you guessed what it was.

You expected the sight of a Superman plushie to greet you, but instead, it was a plushie of your favorite fictional superhero. The same hero from the Martian’s comic.

Well, it was cute. You would probably fall for him if you didn't know better. You held back an awed sound that wanted to spill from the back of your throat.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by all the Justice League groaning a collective and loud “GET OUT”, you looked up, confused and curious by what caused all this, surprised by seeing it was just Batman entering the room.

Huh, why did everyone react like that?

He stared at you, then at every single one of them, silently, almost disapproving, or disappointed, but then, he smirked when he looked at you again.

Batman was smirking? You flinched.

— This is for you. — He gave you a big box. It was surprisingly heavy. When you opened it, there was a very expensive and beautiful pair of shoes, something you only dreamed of having and was always on your Pinterest board. Only digital influencers and celebrities wearing it, making you jealous. But that wasn't all. There was also jewelry and a very expensive bottle of wine. You will definitely take it to the holidays to impress your family. Or maybe keep it to a very special occasion. — And there’s more from where it came from. — He reached for his cowl and your breath hitched. Never in your wildest dreams you thought this day would happen.

He took of the cowl, and in front of your was…

Bruce Wayne?!

While everyone deflated, knowing they lost, you just had to hold back your laugh, but a snort still escaped. That took everyone off for a second, including the always stoic hero in front of you, who was clearly bewildered when you couldn't hold back anymore and laughed to his face.

— You think I'm gonna show up to my family with the nacional manwhore? HA! Yeah, that's gonna impress them for the first five minutes, then I will be the dummy who’s gonna be traded for the next top model. — You shook your head, still laughing. Bruce frowned deeper. You slightly feared for your job after you bluntly called him a manwhore.

— I would never do that to you. My affairs are all to deceive the public and keep my job a secret.

— And that might be true, but my family doesn't know that! Or are you gonna tell this to everyone? Funny. Billionaires are so delusional and out of touch… — You shook your head and walked out.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[therossgarden]

I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.

The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.

People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.

And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.

Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?

I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.

If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.

This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.

She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?

These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.

And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.

This is her, this is the girl.

She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.

And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.

A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.

I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.

This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.

I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Exotic ||

Description: You were The Duke of Suffolk's exotic little gift for devising the perfect plan that had led to the successful colonization of your homeland.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Charles Brandon. This story contains dark and mature content so please browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact. Please DO NOT REPOST my work in any way and DO NOT USE MY IDEAS WITHOUT PERMISSION, thank you.

Pairing: Dark!Charles Brandon | Brown!Reader.

Warning(s): Noncon/dubcon, colonization, racism, age gap (reader is in her early 20's, Charles is in his late 40's), coercion, dacryphilia, p-in-v, boob play, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, power imbalance, misogyny, naive!reader, corruption kink, fingering, humiliation, degradation.

Note: I have clearly taken creative liberties. My stories are generally inclusive for all ethnicities and body types but in order for the plot to make sense, the reader has to be brown and preferably South Asian. Though you can still imagine yourself in it all the same. Also, English is not my first language and I haven't really watched the show so I apologize beforehand for the lack of use of the appropriate language that this piece requires. 

MASTERLIST

"I WILL NOT HAVE HIS BASTARD BLUE EYED GHOULS!" 

One of her many shouts burst through the crevices of the chambers that she had been forced into by the frustrated servants who were just as upset as the maiden by her relentless protest and fight. Charles sighed to himself as he took a sip of his drink, numbly watching the fire and waiting for his unwed young bride to be prepared for him. 

He was the only one who could actually understand her, as she solely spoke her native tongue that he had learnt to ensure the preparation of a fail-proof plan with flawless execution. Infiltrate and occupy. To everyone else in his Estate, she was a wild savage with no sense of civility. One that the Master had taken a fancy to during his business expeditions in her homeland. 

When his wisdom and cunning had added yet another colony to Henry's growing kingdom, the King was obligated to give his best friend the object of his attention as a gift. Charles' eyes that would follow her every time she was around the marketplace, naively going about her day with no knowledge of the coral eyes that observed her every move from afar had not gone unnoticed by the King.

"I do apologize in advance, Master" the head maid bowed after approaching his seat. "The girl has been prepared and placed in your chambers but she is bestial and restive. I do not recom–"

"That will be all, Mrs. Chapman, goodnight" the lady was mildly taken aback as she had gotten used to being the second in command ever since the Master's family had passed away from a devastating plague sometime over a decade ago. 

The silence of the Estate had been his companion during his idle hours for years before this night.  

And now there was her…

Charles sighed to himself as he lifted his heavy body out of his seat after putting down the glass and made his way to his feral little present that awaited him in his chambers. 

His form silently moved through the shadows of the dimly lit halls as the man neared the enclosure he was planning to remain in for weeks at the very least. Undeniable anticipation and excitement began to course through his veins that had not felt this warm for ages now the closer he got to the heavy double doors. 

Charles paused for a second before he entered, tuning her shrieking out and taking a moment to both calm his nerves and settle his composure. He was getting too old to tolerate the wailings of a child for long, but he did not want to ruin this for himself. 

When the man was sure a few moments after that he was ready, he raised his head and entered. 

It had been too long. 

Much to his surprise, the shouting ceased at once and was replaced by quiet sniffling upon his appearing. He had been told that the years had granted him an intimidating mien but it was only now that he believed it when the girl's ear numbing protests turned into mere whimpers at his showing up.

A frown made its way on Charles' face when he turned away from the door after ensuring the security of its latches to finally face the girl. Because though she looked stunning -and Heavens, the sight before him was truly breathtaking-, he found her delicate, dusk-hued hands bound to the headboard of the bed with cloth pieces that matched the shade of her attire.

And oh, her attire… 

Tan fingers decorated with scarlet henna that was deep in shade, hands sparkling with the jewelry that had been draped over them and locked in place at her wrists from below and around the base of her digits from top. The velvety caramel of her arms adorning red and gold glass bangles that jingled every time she mumly struggled against her cruel restraints that cut at her obviously pampered skin whenever she moved. Her face was half-covered with a dark red drape into which sparkling beads had been sown in the shapes of flowers. Her binds that held her arms captive and away at her sides caused her heavy chest to push out against the deep neckline of her crimson blouse, the mud coloured swells feverishly trembling every time she grunted and give a pull to her bruising wrists. The long skirt she had been made to wear below matched the color of the rest of her clothing articles, her fight having raised it up her hazel shaded ankles around which glittery jewelry similar to the hand pieces she wore were wrapped. Her toes that curled every now and then had been coloured the same scarlet shade as her fingers and the sheets contrasted her body in the most stunning way.

The King had really outdone himself with Charles' reward this time around. 

The curve of her body was perfect and different to everything the older man had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. A familiar but much forgotten warmth spread over his chest and traveled down to his nether regions as he neared the girl. 

"D- Don't come any closer!" A scared little maiden from a foreign land speaking in an inferior tongue was not to tell him what to do in his own house. "T- This is utter blasphemy! A girl is to only present herself like this to her husband on the night of their wedding! This is vile and most sinister!" 

Charles sighed to himself before taking a seat next to her. Then he raised the drape from over her face and rested it above her head, only to reveal the most uniquely beautiful face he had ever seen in any land, the dark and thick curls that framed her features accentuating her beauty even more. "Then I suppose it is a good thing that you are my bride, is it not?" She did look the part. 

Her big, almond shaped brown eyes that had been lined with kohl widened when he responded in her tongue. "N- Never!" Y/n tried to move away, her heavy nose ring that was being held up by a thin, gold chain on one side of her face bouncing every time she spoke with nervous agitation. "I- I would never wed one that bears likeness to corpses!" Now this was amusing to Charles. The man could not help the small smile that spread over his lips. "B- Better to die than lay with a blue eyed ghoul!" 

Heat spread across his spine at her naivete.

Then he softly snorted. "In that case I am most regretful to inform you that these decisions are for the men to make, little one" she flinched her face away with a gasp when he went to caress her cheek with the coarse back of his hand. "Young maidens like yourself are much too simple minded to know what is right for them."

"It definitely is not becoming the slave of an old devil!" One of Charles' eyebrows raised at that. 

One with a mouth. 

Taming her would surely be an experience.

"Now that would be real blasphemy, letting such exquisite beauty go to waste by sending it into slavery" the girl was puzzled for a moment as she blinked up at him in confusion, unable to decide whether it was a compliment or an insult to her prior words. Perhaps both. Definitely a trap. The Duke took this time to lean towards one of her binds and reached for it. "Do you promise to behave yourself if I rid you of these?" He had heard the servants' complaints of her biting and kicking them. 

The girl was at a loss of words as she warily watched his face for a hint, clearly struggling to understand his intentions. Charles bit his lip to suppress his smirk. He was not aware that he still had the charm that had had a renown of its own during the days of his youth. 

"Hm?" Y/n's eyes traveled from him to where his hand hovered above the bind. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth and she sucked at it for a few moments before returning her gaze to his. The stubborn girl only nodded, not sparing him any more words than necessary, keeping a careful eye on his movements.

Not that there was much she could do against him.

Charles' fingers pulled the knot free and gathered her bruised wrist in them after it collapsed from its suspension. A gasp escaped the girl when he brought it to his lips and pressed a soft, ticklish kiss to the tender skin, lowering it only to reach for the other bind though caressing it with his thumb all the while.

A frown marred the girl's features as she rotated the wrists in their joints for relief, but only for a few moments. Before any words could be exchanged, her free hand that was not being pampered by the man's suspicious tenderness reached for one of the heavy pillows. 

The Duke's jaw ticked as his eyes shut in forced composure, curls tossing astray when the pillow was hauled in his direction to serve as a device for escape. But alas. He was faster in judging and blocking the weapon with one firm hand. 

Charles breathed through his nose to refrain from expressing his ire and bit back the surge of strength that tried to overpower him. The darkness grew within him as his realization of the sheer power he held in this moment coupled with her intoxicating scent drove him completely mad. A whine left the girl as she hissed, twisting her fragile wrist within his rough palm to try and break free from the bone crushing hold it had been held captive in during her attempt to flee.

"Now, where do we think we are going?" While it took Y/n all of her strength to try and push his arm away, the man easily hauled her body back in its previous spot before addressing her with a much unimpressed look.

"Home! I want to go home!" Tears glistened in her deep brown eyes as her chin wobbled, but she refused to give up her struggle. "You cannot keep me here, old devil! I shall protect my honor at all costs and I shall run away!"

The Duke could not help but let out a cold chuckle at that, keeping his firm hold on her all the same. "You are here on the King's orders, little one. Even if you manage -which you will not, let me assure you-, they will just bring you back here to me."

"Then I implore you let me go!" She was very obviously desperate. And he could feel his sick excitement increase. "Please, I do not wish to be here! I refuse to be desecrated at the hands of your likeness!" Charles had never been one to coerce or force; courtesy of his global popularity, but all this fight and pleading kept adding to the fire that was spreading within him. 

It was then when he had to physically refrain himself from pouncing at her right then and there to strip her of all dignity and innocence, he realized that he wanted– nay, needed this girl under him at all costs. 

And fast.

There was not a doubt that he wanted to break her. But the enjoyment he wished to take from it was not an instant one that would soon become tiring. 

Rather, one which would only get better and more interesting by the day.

Seeping under her beautiful skin like a poison that scorches but is eternally inadequate to fully kill. 

"No can do, you have been given to me by the King himself to keep and guard as I see fit" he couldn't resist the urge to caress the top of her hand with his thumb and gave in. "You are safe within the premises of the Estate and under my name. Though if you breach it…" Her throat gulped down a nervous bile as her cheeks elongated in horror and big eyes widened even more. 

Good. 

"I- If I breach it…?" Y/n couldn't help but edge on when a few moments passed in silence and the Duke refused to share more information. 

Charles' shaky inhale was nerve-wracking as he willed a troubled expression onto his dark eyes. "You will surely be torn apart into hundreds of pieces before any measure of aid can even be attempted…" Her mouth fell open in shock at the revelation. "Word around here spreads fast, I hear…" He pretended to hesitate. "Everyone is curious whether it feels better or worse between the legs of an eastern woman…" She stopped her struggle, the jingle of her glass bangles dying down. "And if they also bleed red…" She suddenly shuffled closer, sniffling and nearly cowering into him. 

There, there. 

"M- My honor…!" Was all she could whimper after a few beats of haunting silence. 

Charles sighed in a deliberately long breath, feigning sympathy as though he was not the sole reason of her being in her present circumstance. "Let me have it, and I shall protect it with my life" dipping his head forward, the Duke leaned in, the movement forcing a shaky gasp out of the girl. "I am afraid your only choices are that or who knows what at the hands of my landsmen–"

"I beseech you speak no more!" Shaky hands flew to cover her ears as she sobbed out loud at last, the movement causing the drape to move and reveal the heavy looking pendents that hung from her ears. Charles wondered if they would make the same sound as her bangles and anklets if he were to take her while she wore them. 

The Duke bit his lip as he felt blood rush to his nether regions. 

Oh, it truly had been a long time. 

The feeling was nearly foreign.

Yet painfully inviting; welcoming. 

"We are each our own devil, little one." He let go of her wrist, lowering his head as he went to move away. "I can see that you rather leave here, so I will–"

"N- No…" The girl slowly shook head at first and then resorted to vehemently doing it when he continued to turn away, stopping him by clinging to one of his arms before pulling his half risen body back down next to her. "Must not bring disgrace to grandfather's turban!" As they were a symbol of pride and honor in her culture. 

Charles sighed in a commiserative manner. "I most sincerely wish there was a way I could help you" he could almost visualize her thought process as her furrowed eyebrows raised from their prior position. 

"B- But you just said there was!" Now it was his turn to bring his eyebrows together although in faux confusion, unbeknownst to the girl.  

"Did I?" When she desperately nodded with a spine-chilling eagerness that contrasted her prior abhorrence to his existence, Charles couldn't help but shift a little to try and relieve the growing ache between his legs. 

"Y- Yes…" The Duke just had to crawl between her legs now. 

"I am afraid I do not recall, sweet one" her tears only made the pressure that was ever-building worse. 

"A- About… That… Just now…!" When Charles tilted his to the side in pretend puzzlement, she couldn't help but cry out in frustration. "A- About surrendering my honor to you to keep and protect!" His heart jumped at the way she said it, the thumping of the organ now matching that of his nether regions. 

"But you did not seem to like the proposition t–"

"I like it! Please, I do!" She desperately squeezed his hand that she held in both of hers. "I agree! To all of it!" The girl had moved onto her knees. "Please, please guard me! I beg to be taken under your wing, Master, please!" Her heavy breasts jiggled against her blouse as she leaned towards him and pistoned her body up and down on her heels in a pleading manner. His eyes couldn't help but travel down to the inviting sight.

Heavens. 

And to think that she was not even aware of just what she was doing. 

Charles could not help but imagine her bouncing on something else entirely. 

"Are you sure, little one?" The girl's nods were so eager she seemed more and more like just another bride by the passing second. "I do not–" mortified for her endangered honor, she bolted forward and pressed her lips to his, though for a while too brief for The Duke's liking.

In the blink of an eye, she was back in her spot on her knees, leaning back against the heels of her feet and looking down at her hands that still held his. "I- I am sure, M- Master…" A shaky breath escaped him at the way the word rolled off her tongue. "W- Want to be guarded and…" Her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip while she mustered the strength required to utter the next words. "K-" she hesitated for a second now that she had somewhat calmed down. "Kept by you."

Charles could not help the triumphant smirk that spread across his still much handsome features. "If that truly is the case, then…" His free hand reached for her tear stained face as his index finger hooked under her chin to prop it up and closer to him. "Come here." 

The girl's breaths were heavy as her palms grew a nervous cold against his, dampening the top of his hand with the clamminess that produced between them. Her shy eyelids fluttered along with her thick, curly lashes as she tried to look at him with their lowered position, the rise and fall of her chest increasing when Charles moved in until there was no proximity left between them.

The mass of hair lined along the edge of her eyes trembled when Charles' soft lips pressed against hers and his rather coarse mustache tickled the skin under her nose, causing her to squeeze his hand reactively and send another icy shiver down his spine. The Duke sighed against the warmth of her tender mouth, sensing that she was not really responding both due to the circumstance and lack of experience but the feeling was too thrilling for him to let go just yet. 

Y/n whimpered when the man softly moaned into her mouth and tilted his head to further deepen the kiss, now moving the hand he had on her chin sideways along her jaw until he was cupping it to hold her face in place. The room filled with loud sounds of skin sucking against skin for short intervals and the girl soon found herself gasping for air. 

"Down on your back, now" Charles growled and barely managed to hold back when she finally broke the kiss by softly biting down on his bottom lip to be allowed to breathe, the action only adding to his need in turn. 

In a matter of a few moments, the unwilling girl was lying in The Duke's bed compliantly, cheeks flushed and eyes teary in contempt, yet legs parted in a welcoming manner as he pulled at the harnesses of his clothes while trying to triumph over his frantic breathing.

But there was only so much he could keep under control.

He could not recall the last time a pretty little thing had been presented for him like this, if ever. 

And she looked so innocent, so sweet, so supple, submissive and small with her big, glassy kohl lined eyes full of fear. 

The sound of the last of his garments hitting the ground was a loud thump in the deadly silent room as he silently marveled at just how vulnerable she really was.

Solely at this mercy.

The girl's jewelry jingled softly as she gasped under her breath and whipped her head in the other direction at the sight of the man; practically a stranger, yet devastatingly now the owner of her new life standing nude before her in all his glory. 

Charles could not help the sick smirk that made its way on his face at the sight before he slowly mounted the bed like a serpent slithering towards its prey, movements silent and intentions vile. Y/n was forced whimper out a shaky breath when Charles crawled over her as she felt his very exposed body graze against her clothed one. 

"Here, now." He placed one hand beside her head and used the other one to recenter her face to look up at him, palm unintentionally cupping her jaw as his thumb caressed the soft skin of her cheekbones. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, little one" her full chest touched against his each time she took another one of her exaggerated breaths, frozen in place as she looked up at him in horrified confusion.  

Her deep brown eyes only widened more at what he did next when his hand left the side of her face to meet one of hers that lay limp at her sides. "Do you feel that, sweet girl?" Y/n's mouth fell open when Charles guided her trembling hand to his painfully hard sex organ and prompted her to touch it. "This is what you do to me…" His eyes traveled down her face and onto her much inviting spotless neck, descending down to the perfect curve of her swells that smoothed into a bump before coming back up to look into hers, "everytime, while fully clothed. I dare not imagine what I'd do if you were even half indecently clad" her face was hot with a deep blush. 

Embarrassment, humiliation, shyness.

Charles moaned when she started moving her hand along his length, a petrified expression on her face as she grunted a little with having to reach so far down, though not daring to complain. "Good, good." He had had enough of the slow strokes, The Duke wanted something more fulfilling, faster, tighter, warmer if he did not want to end up bruised down there by the night's end. "Very good" his thick curls fell over his face when he dipped his head down to kiss her, a few strands of silver glinting in the dim light of his chambers as he pushed Y/n's arms above her head, the placing causing her swells to nearly fall out of her deep blouse. 

When Charles pulled back to breathe, he cursed as he grinded against her before kissing her once more and then trailing his lips along her jawline, pecking every patch he touched. "Hmmm, keep them there" he referred to her arms, leaving them above her head and slowly bringing his own down by tracing the outlines of her body with them. "Tell me you'll keep your arms above your head for me because you're my good girl" his hands greedily groped her heavy chest, causing the girl to wince as her back arched in response to the foreign treatment, her neck craning to one side as Charles sucked and lapped at the tender skin his mouth was latched onto.

"I- I… ah!" Her eyes fluttered close and clenched when he suddenly bit down on the junction between her shoulder and neck before tracing his tongue over the sore area to cool the pang, hands squeezing her soft hips at the same time. "I w- will keep my arms a- above my head for you because I am your g- good girl… M- Master" fuck. 

There was a bewitching way about the way that name rolled off her tongue.

Charles could swear stars appeared in his vision as the pressure between his legs increased. 

"Heavens, little one!" The Duke grunted as he snatched the fabric of her skirt upwards and away from her priorly covered legs, the overwhelmed man unable to hold back anymore as he moved to her swells now that he had left some satisfying marks of his passion along the width of her neck. "Where have you been all this time?" 

Happy and safe at home with my family. A tear trickled down the side of Y/n's face as she shivered when his nude leg brushed against hers that was just as exposed as his now, the contact evoking a strange feeling within her. Goosebumps appeared on her skin and the hair on the back of her neck rose as Charles' lips hovered above the pulpy skin, the golden brown bristles of his beard scraping against its feathery softness.  

"Hm?" Charles growled when she gave no response but then chuckled as he ran his tongue along the narrow valley of the cushions on her chest. "Silly little thing doesn't know what to say now, does she?" A shaky breath escaped him as the coarse back of his hand rubbed against her tender thighs that he had finally managed to expose by pushing the skirt all the way up to her waist. Y/n's eyes widened and she jumped up against his face with a start when his impatient hand snatched at the neckline of her blouse and pulled at the fabric until it separated from the rest of the cloth and tore off in a big piece. But before the girl could voice her shock, Charles beat her to it. "Tell me you've been obediently waiting on your Master, me, all this time" his demand was husky and harsh against her breasts that he was taking his time tasting and biting, the softness making him moan. 

The girl gulped as she blinked through her teary vision, biting her lip in concentration and snaking her fingers around the bars of the headboard to keep them there like she had been ordered to. The last thing she could afford right now was to anger The Duke who was becoming less and less of a man by the passing second, every single little thing about him turning primal and beastly. 

"I- I have been obediently–" the sickening words burnt on her tongue for she must have been a cradled babe when the man on top of her was in the prime of his youth. "Been… B–" her throat was parched as her tongue ran over her dry lips every now and then to create a semblance of hydration. 

"Go ahead, sweet girl" Charles had begun rocking against her already, rubbing his curled length between his stomach and the top of her caramel thigh, the contrasts of their skins only adding to his pleasure. "You're doing so well for me" the slurp of his mouth against one of her hardened nipples overshadowed the sound of him ripping her underclothes away. 

Y/n tried to close her legs, utterly uncomfortable and much too exposed as she felt herself getting thirstier than before, the strange surge of waves that his indecent touches and lewd words were causing in the base of her stomach tightening into a ball each time he squeezed her somewhere or dug his teeth into the soft cushions of her breasts, razorlike canines stinging against her plush swells. 

"I- I have been obediently w- waiting on m- my Master, you, all this time..." Her back arched with another start when Charles' fingers dipped between her nude legs and touched the most private part on her body, the feeling of the soft, warm and moist bumpy flesh causing him to moan so loud against the breast that he was sucking at now after having marked its companion to his liking. 

"Heavens…!" Was all the older man could gasp out as he let his fingers glide free over her folds and squishy petals to both get a feel of them and memorize every little detail possible. "You're wet, God–" his smug smile was so deep that his dimples appeared and he had to peek between his curls that fell over his eyes when he looked up at her. "You are not even aware of it, are you?" The girl had no idea what he meant indeed. "Oh, you sweet little dirty girl" as he attacked her lips with his desperate mouth, his free hand flew to restrain both of hers back above her head when the tip of his finger prodded at her tiny slit and the girl gasped, unaware of its existence altogether. 

"Nuh, uh, little girl" Charles tutted between hot, breathy, wet and sloppy kisses, the red color that had been painted on the girl's lips now an increasing mess around both their mouths. "Good girls keep their arms up and eyes down under their Masters" he let go only to reach for one of her ear pendents and hurriedly felt it with his thumb before ducking down to push his tongue in her mouth to explore the tight enclosure, stifling the gasp she let out when he finally sheathed the finger he had been stroking her with inside her hot cavern. "Do you understand?" He was breathless when he pulled back momentarily to moan at the feeling of her stiff opening clenching around his digit. "Tell me you understand." 

The girl struggled to breathe under his beast-like countenance, accidentally biting down on his lip albeit only to make him moan harder when he started to move his finger in the vertical fashion it was meant to be stimulated in. "I- I…" The pain, the buzzing excitement increasing in the pit of her stomach, the strange feeling which was starting to overpower the initial ache of the intimate intrusion as well as the way Charles was basically chewing away everywhere he could reach her with his mouth with such urgency that it seemed as though she was on the verge of disappearing and would do so any second. 

"Please, go ahead" the tenderness in his desperate plea surprised both of them as Charles worked her open for his leaking cock that held a renown for splitting open tight little cunts. "You sound so sweet when you do" his free hand now explored her ear by grazing the fingertips along the crevices of the helix and cartilage, some places pierced with small and shiny studs with expensive stones in them, other spots having gold earrings hanging from them.  

The Duke decided she was more extraordinary than everything he had ever seen in terms of beauty. 

Perhaps to a point where it shifted to the realm of the sublime. 

Immeasurably superior. 

Feeling the buzz in her cunt get stronger when he added another finger to her warm enclosure of soaking flesh, the girl threw her head back and whined when Charles enveloped one of her sore nipples between his lips again. "I- I understand, Master." And that was it.

It had to be now. 

The man tore himself away from her by sheer willpower for his chest wished not to be parted with hers much softer and inviting one, hard arms snaking under and around her back to reunite their contrasting skins as Charles' cock slipped into place against her opening as though it had been made only to do that. 

"It will hurt a little," lifting her off the bed, he moved onto his knees to move better as he readied himself to sink his cock deep within her. "But then it will feel so good you will beg me to keep you in this bed for days on end" the confused girl did not want to agree but her stimulated body was betraying her in ways more than one. "Just trust me…" His features twitched when he finally lowered his hips and her somewhat prepared entrance allowed the tip to violate the hot cavern, the feeling overwhelming him into groaning aloud and for the girl to reach for his broad shoulders to sink her nails in, eyes and mouth widening alike.

Was it even supposed to be put in there? 

She knew something happened behind the closed doors of a married pair for the fulfillment of marital duties and to create children but… this? 

Y/n did not know so she was not sure but as Charles started to move his hips, guiding her body with the arms he had around it to accommodate his soft thrusts, she wondered why the queer heart-upsetting feeling that made her somewhat nauseous felt a very unusual kind of… good at the same time amidst of everything. 

The girl could not recognize the feeling as pleasure just yet for she was yet to experience the end and get addicted to it like all did, but sweat broke out on her temples when she realized that she wanted him to go on, move faster, make the pain disappear and rub her in that way again to unravel the mysteries of this mysterious ball that was growing tighter and more suffocating by the passing second. 

"I am the biggest cock you've ever had, huh little one?" Her cheeks were flushed as she frowned in pain, mouth agape. "Say it" his demands were primal growls as he felt himself twitch inside her, one hand coming to pat her cheek condescendingly to get her to listen better. "Tell me I am the biggest cock you've ever had" the burn of her nails was too good against his hard shoulders. 

"Y- You are the biggest cock I h- have ever had, Master" Y/n's voice broke as she blinked away tears and stars, unaware of the meaning of her own words. 

"That is correct" he groaned as though in pain, tugging his cock out of her before pushing it back in again. "I am the biggest cock you have ever had. The only cock you had ever had" the man was breathless against her. "The only one you will ever have. You're all mine" the promise was sealed with a furious kiss. 

"P- Please…" For what, she knew not. But her head craned back as she jutted her chest out towards him to treat again the way he had been doing for the past few minutes, the marks that he had left on her skin hot and territorial. 

"What is it, sweet girl?" Charles husked as one of Y/n's hands moved to brush the mop of his curls away to get a better look at his blue eyes. So remarkably handsome. Her eyebrows furrowed as the sheer manliness of his aged face brought an indescribable shiver down her spine and made her clench around him, causing the man to grunt in pleasure as his hips started to speed up. 

"H- Hurts but feels so… so…" Charles smirked as he panted, struggling to move within her narrow passage of flesh. "D- Don't know but– oh," one of his hands dipped between her legs and the result was the most obscene sound she had ever made and he had ever heard. The genuineness of pure surprise and pleasure made The Duke's head spin. "Master!" 

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, my sweet" Charles spoke through a mouthful of one of her dark brown nipples, slurping at it and his own spit as he went. "Just trust Master and lay back, he will take care of you" her toes curled as she let out the same sensual sound again, arching her back and going limp momentarily due to the shock of whatever her body was suddenly subjected to. 

"I was made to protect you, only in death will I be kept from this oath" Charles whispered in her ear after moving to it, pressing kisses to it as well as her cheek to fuck out her orgasm to the best of his ability. It had been a while but that did not mean he had forgotten any of his infamous tricks. Y/n could only blink away the stars that appeared in her darkened vision as she barely made out his promise over the ringing of her ears coupled with the thumping of her heart. 

Was it a good thing?

What could be done if it was not?

Though as Charles grunted before she felt something warm and wet fill her cavern, the man reuniting his arms around her waist to piston into her harder and deeper than he had done in the past few minutes, she felt a sense of permanency wash over her. 

Something broken forever. 

An angel completely tainted. 

A cage eternally chained. 

The rosy pink mix of dissolved purity and unholy discharge below their conjoined bodies was a testament to the fact.

Tagging 🩷: @warriormirkwood @secretdream2 @hangmanscoming

[solecist]

more context for 악어(acau)'s translation (troubles? future troubles?)!

@blockgamepirate mentioned pronouns in context of translation in a reblog and that got me thinking about a bunch of things lmao but mostly about 반말 (banmal).

악어 decided really early on into his experience with the translator to try to use banmal bc he felt like the translator was picking up on it better, and he probably thought this because of two things:

banmal is usually shorter than 존댓말 (jondaemal) which is the polite/default way of speaking. and when i say default i mean my parents sometimes use it to refer to each other. it's more than just politeness, it's also a certain amount of respect? with younger people (high school, college, maybeeee graduate student age) people tend to use banmal with friends. older people use banmal to talk to children, and children use banmal except when talking to older people. i think the easiest way of showing just how much shorter banmal is, is to use "안녕" (korean "hello") as an example. "안녕" (annyeong) is actually banmal! you absolutely wouldn't say this to someone you've just met - you would say "안녕하세요" (annyeonghaseyo) which is jondaemal. but do you see how the second is three syllables longer? there's more of a margin of error with three more syllable and that's why the machine translator doesn't work as well with jondaemal.

The most casual way of speaking banmal uses pronouns. korean doesn't have gendered pronouns really, and the pronouns it does have seem. rude? generally? children use pronouns a lot and adults use pronouns when speaking to children but otherwise.... if you're not friends (and young honestly have yet to find an midsized (40+) adult regularly use pronouns) calling someone "you" is like. an insult. it works (that is, it doesn't feel like an insult) in 악어's stream for me because it felt like he was speaking in a significantly simpler/slower register after a while? like the register you'd use for kids. but i did want to put it out there! because if you're trying to learn korean through 악어's stream, you're probably listening to him use banmal! and that's just something to be aware of.

more pronoun thoughts! in terms of gender - korean doesn't have gendered pronouns. the closest you get in third person is something like "that girl" so machine translate will almost never get it right. it will default to masculine (in my experience) or the first person ("i" "me") so that's something to keep in mind. honestly my dad often defaults to masculine third person pronouns because he forgets pronouns are gendered in english and that there's more than one of them lmaooo. korean does gender relationships A Lot (oppa is the one that most people will know - brother from female speaker to older male listener) but pronouns wise there's. no gender oop.

i just wanted to put this out there because as 악어 becomes more a part of the qsmp community, we'll probably slowly pick up on the more regular patterns of awkward machine translation from an east asian language to english, and more specifically from korean to english. and if it's confusing that's ok! assume good faith - 악어 from what i can tell isn't a streamer who'll use insults a lot or curse, and his normal way of speaking to his audience is very soothing/polite/jondaemal, so i hope that people keep watching him throughout this introduction period!

[guzhufuren]

Japan 🇯🇵 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

Full list here.

1. Cherry Magic!   mind reading; secret crush; office setting

By still being a vіrgin at 30, Adachi gains a magical power – the ability to read other people's minds by touching them. At first, he’s overwhelmed by his new ability, and it’s not proving to be helpful to him. But that all changes when he accidentally touches their office’s most perfect guy Kurosawa, who he learns has romantic feelings for him.

WeTV (Cherry Magic) & no international streaming of Cherry Magic The Movie is available to my knowledge, so watch on bilibili or KissKH

2. Kieta Hatsukoi (My Love Mix-Up!)   misunderstanding; high school setting

Aoki has a crush on Hashimoto, the girl in the seat next to him in class. But he despairs when he borrows her eraser and sees she's written the name of another boy — Ida — on it. To make matters more confusing, Ida sees Aoki holding that very eraser and thinks Aoki has a crush on him!

Viki

3. Our Dining Table food; child character

Salaryman Yutaka finds it difficult to share meals with other people. However, his life starts to change when one day, his cooking attracts the attention of a young boy named Tane and his older brother Minoru. The two brothers are impressed by Yutaka's cooking skill and invite him to their house to cook together. Yutaka's dreary life begins to change, and soon he finds himself looking forward to the meals he shares with the Ueda siblings together, as well as developing a taste for romantic feelings.

GagaOOLala

4. She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat wlw; neighbours; self-discovery; food

Nomoto loves to cook, but tends to make too much food and has no one to share it with. Luckily for her, turns out her neighbor Kasuga has a big enough appetite for the both of them.

No international streaming available, translated to english by Furritsubs, S1 & S2, watching instructions provided, please support translator on kofi.

5. Takara-kun to Amagi-kun high school setting; relationship exploration

Takara is a good-looking popular guy in class, while Amagi is a simple but bright and pure fellow classmate. The two begin to date in secret after Amagi's blurted out confession.

Viki or GagaOOLala

6. Old Fashion Cupcake! age gap; boss/assistant; self-discovery; office setting; food

At 39, Nozue realizes that by letting himself be carried away by his daily life, he ended up locking himself into his routine. It is Togawa, his 29-year-old subordinate, who shakes up his habits by offering him one day to go snack on pastries in an establishment more popular with girls. From one snack to the next, Nozue feels rejuvenated... But is it really the effect of these delicacies or rather that of emerging feelings?

Viki or GagaOOLala

7. Love is Better the Second Time Around second chances; adult romance

An associate university professor and an editor in their thirties, who promised to elope together back in high school but didn't because of a misunderstanding, find each other again after a magazine column ties them together.

GagaOOLala

8. Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss! lucky guy/unlucky guy; university setting

College student Fukuhara has bad luck that causes problems everywhere he goes. One day, Shinomiya, a student with super good luck, helps him out. Now, in order to divide the luck between them, Fukuhara needs to be with Shinomiya all the time.

Viki or GagaOOLala

9. Perfect Propose childhood friends to lovers; roommates

Hirokuni Watari, a cog in the corporate machine, faints on the street one day and ends up meeting Kai Fukaya, a childhood friend he hasn't seen in 12 years. With Kai having no place to stay, he ends up staying with Hirokuni and making home-cooked meals for him to soothe his exhaustion.

GagaOOLala

10. Two People Who Can't Fall in Love (Koisenu Futari) aromantism; asexuality; self-exploration

Sakuko finds it difficult to live in a society which operates under the assumption that people will fall in love with each other. She meets supermarket employee Takahashi and ends up living with him under one roof because of their similar values towards romance.

No international streaming available, watching instructions provided here.

11. I Cannot Reach You best friends to lovers; secret crush

Long time friends and total opposites, Yamato and Kakeru always stick together. When the reserved Yamato admits his feelings, can everything change?

Netflix

12. I Want to See Only You best friends to lovers; coming of age

In the final summer of high school, childhood best friends Sakura and Yuma must start thinking about college and their futures. That is, until Sakura confesses to Yuma with a kiss.

No international streaming available, translated to english by Furritsubs, watching instructions provided, please support translator on kofi.

13. A Man Who Defies the World of BL breaking the 4th wall; comedy; university setting

It suddenly dawns on Mob that he lives in a BL world! So he must turn down any hot guys who approach him.

Viki or GagaOOLala (S1) & Viki or GagaOOLala (S2)

14. My Personal Weatherman roommates; under-negotiated kink

Yoh is a struggling ero-manga artist living with his Mizuki Segasaki, a popular weather forecaster. Yoh believes their arrangement comes with Segasaki providing for him in exchange for housework and sex. Segasaki always has sex with Yoh before the day when the rain season will be over, which results in Yoh being sexually frustrated whenever Segasaki predicts sunny weather for the next day.

GagaOOLala or Viki or Apple TV

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You can watch some shows for free by setting VPN to Japan. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy!  🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[totaly-obsessed]

Falling

Mackenzie Arnold x reader

-> Reader and Macca's daughter watch her win 8-0, even if it is way too early

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Watching your wife play for her country would never bore you, not even when it was an 8 – 0 win and you barely get to see her on the screen. Your daughter, however, was bored. Isla had woken up bright and early as it was a Sunday. 

While you would travel the world for Mackenzie and her games, pulling Isla out of school was difficult, so you stayed home for the Asian Olympic Qualifiers – watching from home as well as you could. Kick-off was at 07:10 in the morning for the two of you in the UK, but the small blonde in your lap was Macca's good luck charm, so a short phone call before was mandatory. 

It was six in the morning when Isla started jumping on your bed. “Wake up! Wake up! Game time! Mo- Ahhh!” you had snatched her out of the air, cuddling her close to you. “Game time later baby, give your mommy some cuddles.” With all her might the brunette girl wrangled herself out of your hold, sitting herself down on your chest. “Call Mama?” With a defeated sigh you grabbed your phone from the bedside table, knowing that your daughter would not give in until she had talked to her mom. “Here baby, you call her.” 

The five-year-old knew just enough about phones, to know where she could call your wife and put it on speaker. Today the young girl decides to go for a Facetime tough at six in the morning – how nice. Especially when you had barely gotten any sleep, worrying about your wife. 

It rang a couple of times before Mackenzie picked up, being greeted by her daughter’s face, way too close to the camera. “Good morning Bubba! How’d ya sleep?” Excited noises left Isla’s lips as she saw her mom on a dark bus, she had pulled the curtains by her seat close, trying to concentrate. “Good Mama! You?” 

“I slept well babe, where is mommy?” Your child threw the phone at you before she slipped under the blanket, joining you in the warmth of it. “Oh, now you wanna cuddle, hmm?” Mackenzie watched with a fond smile as her carbon copy cuddled into your chest, with you holding the phone now, being able to see everything. 

“Hi, beautiful.” She would never get tired of how blushy you got, whenever she complimented you in such a vulnerable state – even after six years of marriage and a child. “Hi, baby. How are you?” 

With Isla nearly falling asleep on you, Macca and you quietly talked until the bus arrived at the stadium “Isla? Baby? I have to go now. Mama loves you, have fun!” A tired wave at the camera was all that she got, blowing you a kiss as well.  

After making coffee and cleaning up a little you pulled Isla to the couch, wrapping both of you in blankets and handing her a breakfast sandwich. “Is Mama going to play?” Just seconds later they showed the Tillies in the tunnel, Mackenzie in pink, a little girl holding her hand. 

“Oi! That’s my Mama!” You could not help but burst with laughter, the little girl appalled to see someone else holding her mother’s hand. “That is her Mascot baby. You were one as well, do you remember?” 

Isla had been a mascot plenty of times, for her mother, Sam, Steph, Caitlin, Alanna, and even Courtney when she had joined Leicester City. 

After the two of you had marveled at the dress the singer of the Philippines national anthem was wearing, it was time for the Australian anthem. As fast as she could Isla was out of the blankets, standing with a hand on her heart, belting the anthem with the singer on the TV. Sneakily you took a video of it, immediately sending it to Mackenzie who was laughing next to Sam, behind the singer. 

“Look there’s Auntie Lani! Oh and Stephy, And Cait!” The young girl could not help herself, stopping her singing and waving at her aunties instead. 

The stadium was filled, and your eyes could not help but tear up a little, seeing your wife stand there, making her country and family proud in front of so many people. “Where’s Mama?” Isla was now back at your side as she tried to find her mother’s pink kit in the colorful mix. But Mackenzie was nowhere to be seen as the rest of the Matilda’s tried to take the team picture, looking for her as well. The commentator explained that she had gone to warm up in goal, forgetting the picture - but she sprinted back just in time. 

Seconds before kick-off Isla sprinted off to her room, returning with bright blue hair ribbons and a hairbrush, wordlessly gesturing you to style her hair just like Raso’s. Once you were done you also sent a picture of that to your wife, knowing that she would show the girls everything that Isla did. 

Caitlin’s first shot on goal was saved by the keeper, Isla next to you restless in her seat. And just a few minutes later the Philippines had a long shot at goal, your daughter jumping up and down. “Get up Mama!” Mackenzie had fallen on her way to save the ball, but luckily it did not meet the back of the net. 

It was Mary Fowler who put the Matilda’s in front with a gorgeous goal in the 14th minute. That first goal set off a series of goals and by the end of the first half, the Matilda’s were leading with five goals. 

Isla however had dozed off as her excitement had lessened during the game. While she loved all of her aunties with all her heart, she was only watching for one person. Her Mama. But with such a lead and the Philippines’ not being a real threat Mackenzie was barely seen. Once or twice, she collected a loose ball, sending it back but otherwise, it was an entirely calm game for the goalkeeper. The second half brought three more goals and a hat trick for both Sam and Caitlin. 

With nothing else to do in the day you decided, to let the young girl sleep until Macca called, which was three hours later. She was back in the Team hotel, freshly showered and alone in her room. “There she is! My beautiful wife!” As expected, you blushed, hiding your face in a blanket on the couch. 

Isla apparently heard your phone ring, as she burst into the room, now fully awake. “Mama, you won!” Your wife could barely contain herself at the cute smile her daughter gave her – a smile that reminded her so much of you it was scary. “I did, Baby! Did you watch me?” 

Isla’s hair was a mess, the ribbon had nearly fallen out by this point. She had always been an aggressive sleeper. “I did, but I got bored.” Mackenzie could not help but laugh at the carelessness in her daughter’s voice. “Little Miss was asleep before halftime, huh?” 

“Huh! How mean of you! Such a mean Mommy didn’t even wake you up.” The small brunette that was jumping in her seat rolled her little eyes at her mother’s sarcasm, well accustomed to it by now. 

“You fell when the ball got to you, Mama.” Mackenzie was flabbergasted “So you fall asleep but that’s what you see?” The two of them bantered back and forth in true mother-daughter fashion, but you couldn’t help but admire them. 

And you were so happy to have them, so much fun in a home that you loved.

[taesanluv3r]

as the sun rises.

myung jaehyun x reader

inspired by one of my fave romance movies 'before sunrise' <3 a lot of dialogue (some are directly taken from the movie, some parts are diff to match the characters obv!!), a lot of cuteness, some swear words, TW: mentions of death, mentions of sex (not smut). pls read under ur own discretion tysm! ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyyy!!

wc: 6,528

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"no but i'm telling you honey, that's just not how it works! you never believe me when i say..."

a young and pretty girl sighs, trying her best to drown out the sound of the arguing couple as she leans against the seat of the train and stared deeper into the book in her hands. she can't really focus though, the aforementioned couple's quarrel only getting louder causing the girl to finally get off her seat in frustration to sit in another one just a few windows down the cart. as her body makes contact with the plush leather material once again, she can't help but feel a set of eyes fixed onto her. the girl furrows her eyebrows, slowly moving her gaze away from the book and over to the guy that sat directly adjacent to her on the other side of the train cart. they make eye contact, he's quite good looking. an asian man, about a couple centimetres taller than she was. and he, too, had a half-read book in hand.

the boy smiles at her first, she returns the gesture before reverting back to the page that remained opened. "what are you reading?" he suddenly speaks, and she looks up at him in surprise. "um, this" she replies, lifting up the paper-back to show him it's cover. pride and prejudice by jane austen. he nods, familiar with the infamous piece of literature. "and you?" she asks, eyes lingering at the hard-cover book in his hands. "ah" is all he says, lifting up the collection of paper so she could see it well. metamorphosis by franz kafka. she nods too, going back into reading mode, and he does as well. they don't say anything to each other for about three minutes or so until the guy abruptly shuts his book and turns his body fully in her direction.

"hey, i'm heading to the dining car...care to join me?" he's standing and she's sitting, their eyes stare into each other's for a moment before she smiles at him. "um...yeah, let me grab my bag" she doesn't notice but the boy has a sort of proud glint in his eyes, waiting patiently as she gathered her things and making way for her to walk in front of him.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so...that couple, huh?" the boy says, beginning to slice at the sausage on his english breakfast plate. the girl giggles, "yeah..." she looks at him intently, her eyebrows knitted together. he notices, tilting his head off to the side. "what? is there something on my face?" she laughs, "no, no! it's just...you're not from around here, huh?" he smirks, "that obvious?" they share a mutual laugh. "well, you're right. i'm here on holiday...er, maybe not a holiday. i'm not really sure what to call it...but anyways, i come from korea" her eyes widen and her lips form an oval shape as she nods in understanding. "your english is amazing" she states, "i'm jealous" and he chuckles, "yeah...i studied abroad for a while. and you? are you from here?" she shakes her head at his inquiry, "oh, no! i go to art school in france, i was just here to visit a friend" he nods, sighing as he stares out the window. "so...you're going back there, then? to france" the girl smiles, watching the trees and clouds that passed by outside the train cart. "mhm...and you are...?" he answers right away, "i get off in vienna, catching a flight back home from there tomorrow morning" the girl responds with a hum, "how's europe been? your not-so holiday trip" she asked and he looked up for a moment as if he were really thinking of a good answer. "it's beautiful, really..." the guy trails off, "...but?" she's curious, her gaze on him getting stronger. "i don't know...i guess being on trains for most of the trip and not really knowing where i'm going...it's just...is starting to get to me" she laughs at his response, taking a sip out of the iced tea that sat in front of her on the table.

"i think this is vienna..." the young woman says, watching the world that stood behind the large glass window. the young man nods, "guess that means i have to get off soon..." they shared a moment of silence, juxtaposing the way natural conversation seemed to ricochet among the pair for the past hour and a half or so that they sat in the dining car. "we have arrived in vienna, please be careful as you exit the cart and don't forget your belongings...have a safe trip!" the announcement sounded scratchy and muffled coming from the old speakers that stuck against most corners of the transport. "so...um...i guess this is goodbye" the guy says, retrieving his stuff and getting off of the seat. she nods, "have fun in vienna" and then he turns around to leave, the girl left all alone as she watched his figure slowly disappear. she sighs, some sort of uneasy feeling starting to rumble up in her stomach. surely he can't just leave like that? right?

and as if he could read her mind from miles away, the girl gasps when she is met with his face again. he looked out of breath, his hands entangled with the strap of his carry-on bag. she's confused, not really understanding what exactly was going on. she was about to speak, not being able to stand the silence that flowed between them. however, he spoke first, though his voice was still a little mumbly from the way he had ran right back into the cart. "come with me" is all he said to her, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "what?" she asked, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. "c'mon, it's just one night. and i'm not gonna lie i really enjoyed talking to you and i know you feel this connection too and i think this short vienna trip would be a lot more...fun if you were around...?" the last bit of his slight monologue came off as a question, like he was almost unsure about whether taking a stranger off the train to a foreign country with him was a good idea. she laughs, "okay" is all she said, getting her stuff and standing in front of him. "okay?" he asked, eyes widened like he had just seen a ghost.

"yes! c'mon, the train's about to leave again, we have to get off"

the pair walked closely beside each other as they hopped off the train, the automatic doors shutting tight behind them. he grabs onto her bag, taking it away from her hand to help her carry it and she thanks him silently. they stop a few feet away from the train tracks, breathing in deeply to take in the new air. "so..." he starts suddenly, "what's your name?" she widens her eyes, giggling at the thought of agreeing to get off the train before even learning his name. "i'm yn" he smiles, "what a pretty name for a pretty girl, yn" she rolls her eyes, tilting up her head to look at him. "and you?" she asks, tumbling in a zig-zag pattern as they began to walk. he grins, the corners of his mouth pointing up as he did so.

"i'm jaehyun, it's nice to meet you"

the pair exchange a shake of their hands, giggling gleefully as they go from nameless strangers to familiar acquaintances. "so...jaehyun, where to?" she asks, playing with the fabric of her denim jacket, a finger moving up to loosely tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. the boy sighs, squinting his eyes as he takes in his surroundings. "i guess it's all up to fate now" he turns towards her, shooting yn a cheeky grin, his eyes disappearing as he did so to which she laughs, grabbing a confident hold onto his hand. the girl drags him along with her as she strides forward and towards a pretty bridge that stood above a body of water. as they approach it, a pair of local men come into sight. "should we ask them what to do? they seem to be from here" yn asks, a finger pointing towards the two figures in the distance. jaehyun nods, following her as she continued to walk. as they strut alongside each other, a sudden silence takes over them. the girl laughs out loud, and so does the boy. "what?" he asks, finding her sudden outburst amusing. "nothing it's just...a bit awkward?" he nods in agreement, "yeah. yeah it's a little bit awkward" the end of his statement comes out breathy as he breaks into a slight giggle, inflicting a similar sound from the giddy girl.

"excuse me, do you speak english?" yn's voice is soft and somewhat unsure, the two locals she had come up to tilted their heads of to the side skeptically. "yes of course we do. do you speak german for a change?" the pair looked at each other with puzzled looks as the two locals bursts into laughter. "nah, nah i'm just kidding- t'was a joke" then they all laughed. "look, we were just wondering what's fun to do around here, that's all" jaehyun follows up, his tone slightly stronger than the one the girl had previously shown. the two men look at each other and nod before turning to look at the pair again. "how long you here for?" one of them asks, a thick german accent seeping through as he spoke. "only for a night, we-" jaehyun was cut off, "what're you doing here just for one night, then? nothing much to do" the other local says rather aggressively, causing the foreign pair to chuckle in surprise. "we..." the korean boy begins to come up with some sort of a reasonable response, trailing off as he searched his mind for one. "we're on a honeymoon!" yn's sudden excuse catches him off guard, his eyes going wide as he stares at her in disbelief. "is that so?" the one with the thick accent wonders, an eyebrow cocking up in search of confirmation. "yeah...yes...yes!" the boy's voice is clear and confident now, proudly sticking his chest out as he wraps an arm around his faux fiancee.

"she got pregnant, we had to get married, and this is supposedly our- um, well, our honeymoon...yeah" the locals laugh again, "you're lying...a terrible liar, you are, yes" the german men share incoherent conversation with each other for a moment, leaving the foreign pair to watch and listen in confusion. just then, one of the two reveals a pamphlet from out his shirt pocket. "this is uh...this is a play we both star in. we wanted to invite you, so yeah" the korean boy gratefully accepts the paper, scanning through it intently. "what's it about?" yn asks, stroking her hair away as the wind blew against it. "it's about a cow and indians searching for it, also politicians...and stuff" one says, "i play the cow" the other follows. "yes and the cow has a disease...acting a bit strange like a dog" yn and jaehyun share another puzzled look, using all the strength in their body to hold in their laughs at the ridiculousness that escaped the mouths of the german strangers.

"as you can see, there's an address there" one says, pointing towards the obvious map in the pamphlet he had passed them earlier. "it's in the second district...near the prater, you know it? the prater.." he trails off, making a circular motion with his hands. "oh! the big ferris wheel? we should go" yn says, turning towards the boy beside her. "yeah we should" jaehyun replied, nodding as he agreed. "perhaps you can go to the prater before the play, it starts at twenty-one thirty" the foreign pair nod, thanking the odd locals before parting their ways with them and waltzing over to the garden nearby.

he watches as she skips and twirls against the cobblestone. her hair is one with the breeze, as she hums to an unknown tune. "this is a graveyard...i've been here once before when i was young" she explains as they walk through a collection of withered head-stones. "this one" yn says, stopping before a particularly gray grave. "she greatly impacted my life...she died when she was thirteen, and i must've been just that age when i went here the first time..." jaehyun nods, "must've been crazy to think that you were thirteen then, and you're older now..." she agrees, "and this girl will stay thirteen forever" the pair let out a harmonious sigh, staring down fondly at the cemetery scene. "c'mon, let's go catch a tram. my feet hurt" he says, reaching a hand out for her to take. "let's go, the tram stop is just around the corner"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

yn and jaehyun smile softly at each other as they took a seat on the tiny public transport. the seat just big enough for the two of them to sit, yet so very small that the skin of their arms tended to rub against each under as the vehicle began to skim through the city. "okay, i have an idea, you ready?" the boy speaks and she just hums in response. "it's Q&A time. we have to take turns asking each other some questions and then we have to answer honestly, okay?" she nods, "okay, yeah...sounds good- you first, you ask me" jaehyun smiles, "okay, um...when was the first time you had sexual feelings for someone?" his question shocks her a little, "wow, okay um...probably this hot swimmer guy i went to summer camp with...he was so so fine and he had the most defined set of abs and i think i just wanted him so bad...and you know, at the time, my friend had the biggest crush on him!" jae laughs at yn's answer, "wow...okay, your turn ask me something" yn took some time to really think of a good question, a smile making it's way onto her face as she finally finds one.

"have you ever been in love?"

she looks at him in the eyes as she asks the unnecessarily deep question, catching the way a slight glint appeared in his eyes and the way his lips quivered a bit before he replied. "yes. next question" her deeply focused expression turns into that of a look of bewilderment at his underwhelming answer. "what?! you're giving me a one word answer? after i told you the story of my sexual feelings towards a hot swimmer?" he laughs, "yes, yes i am" she's in shock, mouth hung opened as she shook her head. "that's so unfair" yn says but jaehyun argues, "hey! if you asked about my sex life i would answer too! but love...love is, it's complicated okay!" the girl rolls her eyes, "whatever! you could've made something up, at least" the boy sighs, a hand slapping against his forehead in surrender.

the pair spent the rest of their tram ride going back and forth, asking each other all sorts of questions ranging from deep and dark to silly things like what their favourite colours were. at one point they had decided to hop off the transport, their feet having enough rest and ready to take them to wherever deemed fitting for the day. i guess somehow, fate had taken them over to an old record shop. the place was vintage, the yellow walls were faded and they were greeted with a hefty breath of dust as they entered the store. yn blinks slowly as her delicate fingers run through all sorts of vinyls that were neatly sorted on the rack. jaehyun did the same right across from her. "ever heard of this singer? my friend told me about her, i think she's an english singer" the girl asks, lifting up a pretty looking album. on it's cover, a picture of a freckled girl with bleach blonde hair. "hm...beabadoobee? should we go listen to it?" the boy asks, a head tilted towards the listening room that sat at the very end of the shop. the girl nods, "i wonder if the record players here still even work..."

sure enough, they do work. the boy and the girl watching silently as the round vinyl began to spin under the sharp pin of the player. a sort of scratchy sound rang in their ears for a moment before it died down into the sound of sweet female vocals. they didn't know the name of the track, not really caring enough to check the list of songs that were displayed on the back side of the vinyl's cover. they didn't speak to each other, their backs leaned against the wooden sound-proof walls. 'how was your day? was it okay?' the female voice sang sweetly, the acoustic tune calming down their muscles they didn't even realize were beginning to tense up. jaehyun sneaks a look at her, averting his gaze hastily whenever yn caught him, and then they'd giggle bashfully, as if they were little kids discovering true love for the very first time.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"there it is" yn says, looking up at the large ferris wheel at the center of prater park. "what are we waiting for, then?" jaehyun shoots her that smile she's gotten all too fond of, a contagious sight as she, too, grins happily. the girl takes hold of his hand, skipping excitedly over to the queue. not many people were waiting in line, just a few couples and families with their children. "wow..." the boy sighs, his arms hanging out of the window as he looks down at the view below him. "it's beautiful" he continues, moving closer to the center of the cart where she stood. "mhm...the sun's about to set too..." she states, watching as the pretty blue european skies get dim, and a slight orange tint began to paint against it. he finds himself staring at her, sure she'd catch his eye ever since the very moment he had caught a glimpse of her on the train this morning, but he swore nothing- none of that compared to the way he saw her right now. the sunset reflected off of yn's eyes, her hair a mess from all the wind, a soft smile placed delicately against her pink-ish lips. jaehyun just couldn't help himself, he couldn't let this sight of her go to waste, and only if she knew...if she knew how badly he wanted to-

"what is it?" her voice shakes him out of his trance. "huh?" he asks, shaking his head as his eyes meet her own. suddenly his mind goes blank, the boy who had been speaking oh so much all day was at a lost for words. "i...i uh...i just" the girl laughs, her arms moving away from where they sat at the rim of the ferris wheel cart and over to wrap lightly around his neck and against his shoulders. "are you trying to ask me to kiss you?" yn giggles again when a red tint engulfed the boy's cheeks and ears, a bashful look on his face as his gaze lingered onto her own. "i mean..." he begins, taking a single step closer to her. "i'm not opposed to it, are you?" the last thing jaehyun heard was a playful scoff, and the last thing he saw was her eyes rolling sarcastically to the back of her head. or at least that's all that he remembers before she closed off all the space they had between them, their tongues tangled against one another's as they breathed deeply into the kiss. they didn't realize how much they've been longing for a taste of each other until this very moment, what was supposed to be a sweet kiss against the sunset had slowly turned into something more hungry, thirsty like they've been starved for days prior. giddy, a term you must've read far too many times to describe the two strangers that met just hours ago on the train, but that's exactly what they were. so insanely giddy that they found themselves smiling and grinning like a bunch of circus clowns as their teeth tugged against their lips and their hands twisted against their hair.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i'm gonna call my friend from art school who i'm supposed to be having lunch with in a couple of hours, okay?" yn says suddenly, sitting across from jaehyun as they dined at a local restaurant not too far from the prater park. "okay" he says, though he sounds a bit unsure and his face showed just the same confusion as he watched her stick an imaginary phone beside her ear. "ring ring ring...pst, pick up the phone" she whispered the last bit, signalling for him to go along with her little skit. he obliges, creating a telephone shape with his own hand and pressing it lightly against his ear. "hello?" he speaks, she fails to hold in a laugh. "hi, it's me yn! listen...i don't think i'll make it to lunch today..." she nods, telling him it's his turn to speak. "oh no, are you okay?" the girl smiles, "well...i'm in vienna right now...i got off the train with this korean guy and-" she was cut off, "are you crazy?!" the boy exclaims in an awful french accent that he assumed her friends over in her parisian art school would have. "mhm..." jaehyun lets out a dramatic sigh, "why'd you get off with him?" she looked up in the air, deep in thought with her chin pressed against her palm. "well...he convinced me" she looked him straight in the eyes this time, not letting him interrupt her as she began to speak into the imaginary phone again. "he's this really interesting guy...we spoke of all sorts of things in the dining car on the train, he was reading metamorphosis by franz kafka, and i just felt some sort of a connection to him"

"well...what's he like?" now the boy was using this roleplay to his advantage, trying to make the most out of the situation and the fake phone call. "well he's taller than me, he's got kind eyes and a fond smile. he kind of mumbles when he talks but he's got this extroverted tone, the kind of person you'd feel warm around even during the winter time...he's kind of clumsy- oh! and he kisses like a dork" jaehyun's eyes go wide, "what?!" yn giggles, "yeah, we kissed...and as the night goes by i find myself liking him more and more..." she trails off, his gaze gets deeper, somewhat more intense. "you gonna see him again?" he asks, still in character. "we.." she stops for a moment, "we haven't talked about that yet" then the pair went silent, just basking into the atmosphere and taking their time to look into each other's sparkling eyes. yn sighs once, putting her hand down in a motion as if she were hanging up the call.

"your turn, go call one of your bros in korea"

jaehyun presses his hand against his ear again, "ring ring...it usually goes to voicemail..." yn laughs, "hey jae, what's up, my man?" she suddenly speaks in a deep voice, the change in octave caught him slightly off guard. "hey, woonhak- what's up bro, i'm alright" the boy says, his free hand toying with the silver cutlery that sat atop his plate. "how's europe? you leaving from vienna tomorrow right?" the girl had decided to rid herself of the previous faux-male voice, reverting back to her usual tone. "yeah, yeah man it's been great...i'm actually having the time of my life right now...and uh, i'll tell you why" the girl doesn't respond, only nodding to tell him to continue.

"i met this girl on the train and we got off at vienna together" jaehyun tells, as if the girl in question wasn't seated right across from him. "oh yeah? what's she like? she hot?" the boy laughs at the girl's awfully blunt response, wondering if that's what women thought men really sound like (they do). "there was this arguing couple that was so loud she had to move seats. she sat across from me reading a book and i decided to talk to her. we went to the dining car and talked for ages. she's smart- like, very smart. she goes to an art school in france. conversations with her seemed to be so natural...it was almost like we had some sort of a connection...but i was so scared i would say the wrong things to her" yn furrows her eyebrows, "but bro, you're never scared to talk to anyone!" she brought back the deep voice, snorting slightly as she fails to suppress a chuckle. he smiles, "i know man...it's just, i don't know...something about her...she makes me nervous"

the fake calls end there, the foreign pair paying for their meals before exiting the brightly lit restaurant. their fingers intertwined as they strolled down the streets of vienna. it was nighttime now, the scenery had become a different vibe from when they arrived earlier in the day. they had just past a beautiful street dancer, yn had explained to him that it was a prenatal dance, soon finding themselves in slight banter as they discussed the gender roles of men and women in society. yn had won the debate, jaehyun admitting defeat and simmering down with the excuse of fearing the wrath of an angered woman. the boy and the girl sat down at a table nearby a twenty-four hour cafe. "look at that..." she says, eyes pointing towards an old woman in a turban. a palm reader. "she looks interesting, no?" the boy nods slowly, "yeah...oh shit- shit, she's coming this way, oh god" the girl laughs, "oh fuck, we made eye-contact" in a matter of seconds, the old lady had appeared right in front of them. "hi...english or french?" yn asks, but she gets no answer, instead the palm reader just grabs at her hand, flipping it over to look intently at the wrinkles of her palm.

the lady drags her own finger against the skin, mumbling something to herself before looking the girl straight in the eyes. "you're a stranger to this place...you're a traveler, you seek adventure...what's more, you seek love. yet, you're a driving force, a strong minded girl..." the fortune teller trails off, dropping yn's hand and moving to grab a hold of jaehyun's. "and you...you'll be alright" the lack of depth in his reading must've felt unfair, a scoff escaping the boy's mouth as he stares at the older lady in disbelief. "now..." she croaks before rubbing her fingers in circular motions. the pair laugh, fishing their bags for some cash to hand over to the palm reading lady. she smiles softly, accepting the money before skipping away into the shadows to find another pair of tourists to rip off for a fortune.

"i just...there's no way you believe all that...do you?" jaehyun complains, his hands thrown up into the air in frustration. yn just laughs out loud, her arms wrapping around her own body to shield her from the cool nighttime air. "i mean...are you sure you're not just upset she didn't give you a great fortune?" the boy sighed, "she absolutely ripped us off!" the girl rolls her eyes, "whatever...you look too into things, you know? you're just upset you didn't hear what you wanted to" he gasps dramatically, "that is so not true! i'm just saying...she's using tourists and fake fantasies to make money and rip people off!" yn shakes her head, "you're so..." she trails off, stopping in her tracks to turn towards him. "i'm so...hot? sexy? fresh and cool? you so badly want to kiss me?" the girl sighs, "so insufferable" she says, watching the way his prideful smirk melts into a pout. "can't deny that you still so badly want to kiss me, though" he states, cupping her cheeks in his hands and leaning in to press his lips onto hers once again.

"huh..." yn sighs as they separate, their hands still intertwined with each other's. "what is it?" jaehyun asks, looking at her worriedly. "nothing...it's just funny to think that we won't see each other again after tomorrow" her words affected him more that he would've thought. "you mean...you don't think we'll ever see each other again?" his voice is sort of shaky, cracking a bit as if he were about to cry. "i mean, let's be realistic. you live in korea, i live in france..." he nods along with her sentences, "you're right..." he trails off, really trying his best not to cry right now. "but, i guess it's not a bad thing...we made the most of these past few hours, and we still have a few more to go, no?" she reasons, her hand unconsciously rubbing circular shapes against his. "yeah..." it's silent again for a moment. the only other sound apart from their breaths on this empty street was the live band that played a couple blocks away from them. "it's depressing though, isn't it?" yn speaks again, looking up at him with glossy eyes, noticing the way his gleamed as well. "hm?" jaehyun asked, "i mean now all we can probably think of is how much longer we have till we have to say goodbye" she bites her lip, still not breaking eye-contact with him. "then let's say goodbye now. so we won't have to do it again tomorrow" she smiles at his idea, nodding enthusiastically as they both fixed their posture to stand straight.

"goodbye" they say in unison. "au revoir" she says, giggling softly when he shoots her a toothy smile. "annyeong!" he says cheerfully, waving his hand around like an idiot.

by midnight the two had found themselves sprawled out against the grass, over at an empty plain of land in the depths of the city's large park, staring at the bright moon that gave light for people to see. "you know...i find myself caught up in special moments like staying up all night or dancing till the sunrise...i always knew those moments were special..." yn's voice quiets down, she can feel his gaze locked onto her face as she scans through the starry night sky. "but?" jaehyun asks, wanting her to keep talking. "but i always felt like something was wrong, like i wish i was doing all those things with someone else" they share a laugh. "but for some reason...i feel content with you- like there isn't a single flaw" he smiles, "do you think we'll have more moments like this?" she rolls her eyes, "what happened to being realistic, jaehyun?" the boy sighs, propping himself up on his forearm so he was almost hovering over her. "i know, but think about it..." he clears his throat and she shifts slightly to get a better view of his face.

"ten, fifteen years from now...we've been married for a couple years, gathering with all our new mutual friends. i'm getting a little too drunk, talking everyone's ear off about the same story about how we met on a train one day all by chance. everyone gets so tired of me yap on and on about how i fell in love with this girl, growing even more fond of her as the sun rises...and you come get me, tell me it's time to go home, tell me you'll drive cause i can't even walk in a straight line..." the boy's eyes wander off to the sky as he looks into his future fantasy, the girl can't help but smile as he went into immense detail, covering every part of their married life- as if just hours ago, they weren't mere strangers.

"are you saying you've managed to fall in love with me that quickly?" yn laughs, finding the way his cheeks flushed all too hilarious. "i mean...did i say that?" jaehyun tried to save himself, slumping down against the grass as he sighed in defeat, his hands went up to cover the embarrassment on his face. the girl sits up, turning to move his hands away so she could look at him. he stared up at her, a hint of longing in the way his dark brown orbs sparkled. she mimicked the same expression, like they were telepathically sending each other the same sort of signal. a signal that read in big bold letters.

kiss me.

the kiss was intense, his hands found home in the backside of her head, pulling her towards him and sending her body crashing down on top of his. lost in each other for a moment, the pair tossed and tumbled against the green grass, completely ignoring the fact that the leaves were starting to scratch against their skin, a high chance of a rash greeting them in the morning. they didn't even notice the way the skies were getting brighter, the sun rising all too quickly, before they could even process it.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"last night...it was all like a dream" yn's voice is raspy, a mixture of the cool morning air and the events of the night prior. "yeah...lot's of fun" jaehyun agreed, his left hand sneaking up under his jacket to scratch at a spot that began to itch on his lower back. they walked close to each other, roaming the silent streets of vienna for one last time. they were unusually quiet. it's not that they ran out of things to talk about, it's just that they didn't really feel the need to speak right now. they passed by a large theatre, right by where they were at the parter last night. the girl smiles softly, "we didn't end up watching that play..." the boy laughs at the memory. a sudden sound of piano music stopped them in their tracks, they paused to look at each other. both their eyebrows knitted together and their eyes moving around frantically in search of the source.

"is that it?" jae wonders, crouching down to peak into a tiny window. "i think so..." the girl follows, smiling as she catches a glimpse of a young man, sat behind a large grand piano. his fingers moving swiftly in complex patterns as he taps on the black and white keys. "wow..." the boy whispers, fascinated by the musical number. he steps back from the window, beginning to step along to the beat. she laughs when he offers her a hand, "care to dance with me?" who was she to say no, gladly taking his hand in her own and allowing him to take the lead. they waltzed for a moment, sharing hushed laughs when she accidentally steps on his feet for the third time. the streetlights had begun to turn off, indicating that enough sunlight had surfaced over the area.

"we better head off to the station soon..." yn says, her head now sat on his lap as they relaxed on a bench somewhere in the city. jaehyun sighs, reminded that they'd have to part ways sooner or later. he strokes a finger through her hair, her eyes closing once before fluttering opened again. "i wish this could last forever..." he says, his eyebrows twitching and his eyes drooping ever so slightly. she hums, "yeah..."

before they knew it the pair had made it to the train station. he promised to see her off before he looked for his own train. "you sure you know where to go?" yn asked, slight worry at the thought of a lost puppy-like jaehyun. he nodded, "yes, don't worry"

"okay then..." the girl says, standing before him with her bags in hand, the train getting ready to depart making loud noises that rang in their ears. "i guess...i guess this is goodbye then" she continues, her tone is melancholy, almost depressed. "yeah...um...you know, i really- i, you know" the boy tries his best to speak but for some reason he couldn't seem to form any coherent sentences at the moment. she understood him though, nodding as he pressed his hands on either side of her shoulders, her own ones placed against his waist. "um..." he sighs and so does she, deciding it was a waste of time to speak before leaning in for a long and passionate kiss.

"listen..." jaehyun was out of breath, he didn't know if it was from the kiss they had just shared, or if it was because he could feel his heart pumping right out of his chest. "that thing we said last night about being realistic i- i don't want that, i wanna see you" yn's eyes widened at his words, "me too" now it was his turn to be shocked. "what- why didn't you say anything?" he asked, eyes softening as did hers. "i was afraid you didn't want to..." the boy shook her head, as if to say that were impossible. "okay then...why don't we meet here again?" she nods along with him. "in um...five years" her eyebrows furrowed, "five years? that's like torture" he agrees, "you're right...okay one year?" the girl smiles, "okay, one year" but he shakes his head, "how bout six months?" now she looked bewildered, "six months? it'll be freezing!" he laughed, "i don't care! c'mon, six months, same spot right here" yn nods, repeating his words to herself. "okay...i'll see you then"

their conversation is cut short by the whistling sound of the train horn, signalling that she had to leave in just a minute. "okay, i...i have to go" she stutters, still out of breath from this whole thing. "yeah, okay" he replies, pulling her in for one last kiss. as they parted, they made sure to stare at each other for just a little longer, savoring the way the breeze flowed through their messy hair, the way his eyes watered and the way her eyebrows turned upwards in sorrow.

"goodbye" he says, voice just above a whisper. "au revoir" she replies, beginning to let go of his hands. "annyeong!" he exclaims one last time, waving as she hops into the cart. jaehyun follows her through the window as she finds herself a seat to sit in. yn laughs to herself as the boy sends her about a billion flying kisses. however her smiles fade into that of a somber frown as the train begins to depart, his tall figure disappearing into the distance until he was completely out of sight.

jaehyun got onto a bus towards the airport not long after. no matter how exhausted he'd been from all his unexpected adventures in europe, the last thing the boy could do was sleep. instead, he sat wide awake all the way back to his home country. only one thing in his mind that he kept circling back to again and again and again. and as all cliche love stories go, you know exactly what it is that's got him so insanely worked up. it was the mere thought of her. of the girl he met by chance on a train, the girl he spent a night in a foreign country with, the girl he could talk to for hours..

the girl he fell more and more in love with as the sun began to rise.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

YAYYYY!!! this ended up longer than i expected 😭 guys if u havent watched before sunrise i think u shld DEFINITELY watch it it's like one of the best romance movies EVERRR!! anyways i hope u enjoyed this, sorry for being so ia while i was on my holiday trip </3 will be back on the writing grind i promise 🫶 reblogs n feedbacks r greatly appreciated <3 dms n asks r always opened if u wanna talk to me!! love, kona.

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ r.u.n. ! — illit

pairing — idol!illit x reader song rec : in my mind - lapid ( 0.8k ) warnings ! none ᯤ ^ ㅇ ^ happy reading ! ⸝⸝・ᘏᘏ

prompt : you thought being young and of color would bring you down out as the show went on it just help you make more friends

when the show started you were sure you would get evil edited. you weren’t any type of asian and so you stuck out like a sour thumb. so you thought your best hope was to just be the best all-rounder ever. that before you found out you were the youngest on the show. being fourteen.

after you danced to ‘im jelly baby’ by aoa cream the judges cooed. you titled you head and one of the laughed.

“ahh what’s wrong?”

“did I do bad..?”. you heard oohs and aahs.

“no no you just looked really cute”. you still looked worried prompting chanelle to translate to you. you nodded.

“I would hope I’m only fourteen”. you heard a loud gasp and when you turned to the judges there eyes were wide. as you went to sit down you were being pulled in all sorts of directions. you sat down next to chanelle and moka though since you were going to need the translating help. as you sat down moka pinched your cheek.

“your going to be what..? fifteen when you debut?”. you nodded as your legs rocked back and forth. in the episode subtitles immediately appeared.

look our little maknae in training ~

as people went on you yawned and slowly dozed of. ‘ahh look..!’ ‘so cute..!’. moka put her hand around your waist for the rest of the auditions and as you woke up towards the end suddenly the cameras were back on you.

good morning our little baby !

as you watched the first episode in your dorm you smiled. you felt eyes on you and looked up to see a blushing iroha.

“you’re a great singer !”

“I loved your dance”. iroha beamed at you as she sat next to you on your bed.

“us maknaes have to stick together”. you laughed as the girl shock your hand. that night you had your own little sleepover without the rest of the girls knowing.

“chanelle?”. chanelle brushing her teeth tilted her head at yunah.

“hmm?”

“do you know where iroha is..? she’s my dorm mate..”. the girl shock her head prompting yunah to run into each dorm asking for iroha.

“I- aww..”. as yunah walked into yours and youngseo’s dorm she saw youngseo shushing her and you two cuddled together on the queen bed. the next morning you got ready for your first perfomance. you fell into a group with wonhee and were scared you wouldn’t be able to connect with anyone because of the language barrier.

as practice went on you always felt wonhee’s eyes in you, as you all sat down she ran over to you.

“are you having fun”. you only nodded.

“do you think you need any help?”. you nodded and wonhee urged you to show her. in the end product of episode two you got a lot of screen time because of the girl and yours interactions. as you performed you made a slight mistake. you slipped and then just decided to fuck it and go into a middle spilt.

the judges nodded along and the girls oohed. as you lined up your head was down.

“y/n-ah are you ok..?”. you shakes your head.

“I messed up in the middle I’m sorry”. you bowed and yunah rubbed your back as chanelle held your hand. the judge gasped.

“the spilt wasn’t in the choero”. you nodded and she clapped.

“it was good don’t worry”. you smiled as you sat down and yunah made sure everything was fine. as you sat in the locker room you tapped your feet waiting for someone to enter. when minju did you smiled. you loved her voice. minju gasped as your ran up and hugged her. you heard a scuff in the background.

“so I get no hug..”. you laughed as you ran to hug youngseo too. you tried to hold in your tears as the members got announced.

and your third member…

you crossed your fingers and closed your eyes shut.

y/n lee .. !

you gasped as chanelle hugged you. you were stunned leading chanelle to walk you over and give you one last big hug. iroha side hugged you as minju ruffled your hair. the other two members were announced and as the cameras turned of you were happy to meet your new family..

[lifea16]

Another Picrew Tag game because we can't have too many!

Link

Use this Picrew and talk about your life! (Don't feel pressured to do either tho! <3)

So.. I have a pretty normal life to be frank,

Well as normal of a life a girl with dyslexia and ADHD can have in school, which is bullied, feeling guilt for not being able to do anything sometimes, feeling afraid to tell others about your diagnosis, etc..

I was lucky enough to get a diagnosis, but I do fit most majorities where I'm from, I'm Asian (Indian, but I feel afraid to say that because people may confuse me for being Amarican-Indian/Native American), and Cis, and middle / upper class.

[My mum's a Psychologist and Dad's a founder of a small business that sells diamonds to jewelers]

I'm unsure if I have all the help I need, but I'm mostly good! Still struggle with doing anything related to school/work/whatever at home lol.

I've not told anyone other than my mum about my sexuality, but I don't really need to as I'm young enough to not have others wondering about why I've not tried dating yet, and I usually show attraction to men (Tho questioning if I just had a Lesbian phase of if I'm M-Spec, unsure if i ID as Heteroqueer or Bi), tho there was a rumor in my school that I was lesbian since I was when I was like ~10, and I didn't bother refuting it when I became older

I've recently developed a Hyperfixation on Helluva Boss, since I was forced by my YT recomendation page to learn about Hazbin Hotel, and I wanted to learn about the free spinoff I knew I could watch. Then promptly became obsessed.

Thankfully despite being bullied when I was younger, I still love myself, although when my teachers did say 'They were wrong but you actually need to work on X' because they didn't know I was Neurodivergent, it did affect my self confidence a bit, so now I take medication to help with my ADHD..

I honestly don't remember what past me wanted me to write, so sorry past me if I forgot to type anything you wanted me too

So ya, sorry for yapping, you don't have to lol, just like talking about my life, especially since this one is the first of the chain, sorry if it's a bother

@blitzosicedcoffee @blitzvo @samualjennings @amethystoceandespiser @blitzs-largest-horsiest-dildo @speakofthedebbie @toomuchdivergentformyneuro @imbatman27 and anyone else who wants to join!

(Update: Fixed tags)

[hobiebrownismygod]

Let's talk about Desi representation again!!

I don't talk about this stuff often but when I do, I have some strong ass opinions

and yes I'm gonna be talking about none other than Pavitr Prabhakar at the end cuz he's just special to me &lt;3

Hollywood is lagging behind on Desi representation

You'd think one of the biggest film industries in the world would be able to represent us properly, considering the fact that we make up the largest group of South-Asian Americans and the second largest group of Asian-Americans in the US, but instead-

Western Television forces Indians to conform to harmful stereotypes

Some of the most popular Desi characters on screen are Raj Koothrappali from the Big Bang Theory, Devi Vishwakumar from Never Have I Ever and Kelly Kapoor from the Office.

Indian men are almost always portrayed as robotics engineers and computer whizzes, but with terrible social intellect, making them seem like awkward nerds.

Indian women are almost always portrayed as "whitewashed", or wanting to appear more western, with zero understanding of their own culture or language along with an unrelenting need for attention from white friends/colleagues.

These are both based on stereotypes that Indian culture is "toxic" and "too traditional" and that Indians are only interested in studies.

Most Desi characters in western media have stories that are solely based around their ethnicity and/or racial stereotypes.

British television actually showcases a lot more representation than Hollywood does

I was watching Polite Society, a movie starring two Pakistani characters as the main leads, and there was a dance scene where both the leads are wearing traditional desi attire. My mom turned over, looked at me, and asked, "Is this Hollywood? It can't be."

And she was right. It's a British movie with British-Pakistani actors.

The reason she didn't believe that it could've been Hollywood was because the dresses the two leads were wearing were traditional and beautiful and the song playing in the background was authentic Hindi music, not some random westernized DJ version of it.

A Hollywood movie would've never dressed up their Desi actors in actually flattering attire (*cough cough the Patel twins from Harry Potter) or have used real, popular Desi music in the background.

You see my point?

It is so uncommon to see well-thought-out Desi representation in TV nowadays, where to see real diversity we have to watch movies made by the same country that colonized us.

Ironic.

British movies/shows with desi leads have far better South Asian representation than anything I've seen in Hollywood recently.

The Hollywood movies starring Indian leads, like Slumdog Millionaire or Bend it like Beckham were filmed in the UK, and because they were filmed in the UK, they had fantastic South Asian representation.

Not only does Hollywood refuse to create shows and movies about real problems that South Asians face, but they also don't cast South Asian actors in good roles.

When's the last time you saw a South Asian actor playing a character that wasn't a walking stereotype? When's the last time you saw a South Asian actor playing a character that was a genuine part of the story rather than just comedic relief or a random smart kid in the classroom?

Not often, right?

Me, personally, I didn't grow up with a lot of South Asian characters or actors in shows/movies that I watched. In fact, every time someone even close to my skin color showed up on TV, I was on the edge of my seat because it was just so rare to see it.

This is why representation matters.

You've heard about all the young girls with braids being so excited when the new little mermaid with Halle Bailey came out. Well, us desi kids wanted that too.

I wanted to see a Telugu speaking girl with wavy hair and dark skin who would wear traditional clothing to Desi get-togethers and parties, go to the temple with her family, eat vegetarian Indian meals, etc...

I wanted to see a character who was a representation of me and my experiences as an Indian-American. I wanted to see a character that was at least a representation of Indians or just South Asians in general.

Instead, we were given characters that ridiculed their own culture, were extreme stereotypes and furthered the existence of casual racism in western society today. So many Desi kids experience small acts of racism on a daily basis because people have been so desensitized to the existence of these stereotypes.

Telling South Asians that their culture is a joke and feeding non-asian children media which pokes fun at other cultures is harmful, not only to us South Asians but also communities that could end up being targeted next.

Pavitr Prabhakar; Representation Matters

If you've been following me or if we're mutuals, you probably know I have a tiny obsession with Pavitr Prabhakar. But why?

Because of all the reasons I just listed.

There are few South Asian characters us Desis can look up to these days, and Pavitr Prabhakar is one of the maybe two or three characters who have great writing, magnificent representation, and overall a fun vibe.

He's likable, funny, smart and best of all, unapologetically Desi.

He's just like all the other side characters, with a little bit of his own culture mixed in. He's not being shoved down our throats to further an agenda about fake diversity, he's not a walking stereotype and best of all, he was designed by Indian creators.

He's refreshing and exciting to follow in a world full of a demand for half-hearted representations and the people who created him were obviously putting their hearts and souls into it.

He's awoken a love for Indian culture amongst, not only Desi children themselves but also among westerners who, prior to this, had thought of India as a "3rd world" country, because that's the agenda that Hollywood pushes onto many South Asian countries today.

WE LOVE PAVITR PRABHAKAR!!

This was kinda all over the place but I just had to get this off my chest &lt;3

Sources:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2021/06/10/discrimination-against-indian-americans-happens-more-than-you-might-think/

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi hello! Can I request a Minho x Reader oneshot where the reader is working for WICKED but is like an undercover agent and actually tries to give out info for the Right Arm or whatever and she helps Minho when he gets taken back to the facility(like trying to find ways to free him or at least bring him food or smth when he's not being... yk tortured to death and all- it can be whatever) and she helps in his escape and they all go tho the safe haven where they live happily forever after- ok I'll stop now, thank you. Also I'm in love with your Minho oneshots!

Omg yesss this is such a good request and I can actually do so much with this.

I got really into this one so I'm sorry for the variation in my writing quality lmao. This might be my longest piece yet, so sorry it took so long to get out.

Due to the pronouns used in this text I am assuming it is Fem!Reader. I am also assuming this is based on the films because those events do not take place in the books.

WARMTH IN COLD PLACES PT. 1

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Minho x Fem!Reader. Movie based fic. Instead of Jorge knowing about the Last City and where Minho will be, you provide that information.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, violence, guns. WICKED being WCKD because movie. I'm assuming you know the rules of the card game Black Jack. This is also time inaccurate because TDC takes place over a couple of days but here you're getting weeks worth of events. VERY long.

You joined the Right Arm as a child, maybe ten or eleven- you can't really remember. You'd lost your parents to the Flare on separate occasions, escaping to a refuge camp after your father started showing symptoms and forced you to flee without him.

You can't even remember losing your mother. You were too young.

After moving from camp to camp, each one being safe until some Crank snuck in, or someone joined unknowingly suffering from the disease.

After the forth move, you met Vince. You tried stealing some extra bread for a girl who was sick (she had pneumonia, not the Flare). You got caught but put up a hell of a fight. Vince introduced himself, and you kind of became his adoptive daughter.

So, when he gave you an alias and a fake ID, sending you on a private mission to interfere and spy on WCKD, you were shocked to say the least.

But it made sense. Vince had been protective and secretive about you, making sure that he kept you away from WCKD's watchful eye. Sure, you're pretty well-known; but only by name. There's several rebellious attempts attached to your name, mainly spread around groups of activists.

But not your face. You were the perfect candidate for an undercover gig.

It took months to go through WCKD'S training, pretending to be older than you were with a name that wasn't yours, but it worked.

And then, even your fake name and life didn't matter- you simply became Guard 175.

It's been two years since you took the job.

Your time in the Last City was unlike any other- mainly stealing information and providing intel.

Until strict message from Vince on your smart watch tells you to keep an eye out for an Asian boy called Minho.

You knew of Minho- of course, you did. Vince and his new allies had been looking for him for the past six months. After the events in which Teresa betrayed you all, you were in the Last City. The Guard job you had required you to stay at WCKD's Headquarters at all times, since you were guarding the building. Even in events where WCKD needed more bodies.

All you could do was try and warn Vince, but by the time you found out what was happening yourself and managed to find a private place to send the message, it was too late.

So, now everyone's focus is on trying to find this random boy you've literally never met for ex-WCKD workers/prisoners. It's been a weird six months.

Much to your dismay, the only information you could provide were the routes the trains would be taking and that Minho might be on them.

Which got messed up, but not thanks to you. You told them the location, but which carriage Minho was on would be random based on where the Guards forced him to sit.

You were still unable to leave your post.

Vince had suspicions that they were bringing Minho to the main WCKD base, especially after you told them the documents stating the destination. It was really the only other option since they didn't save him. So, you're now under strict orders to keep an eye out for him.

You know what he looks like. You have an earpiece and a high-tech smart watch, both of which you keep hiden under your Guard's uniform. These were used to tell you what you had to look for. So, when you broke into WCKD's system, searching for Subject A7- information that was provided by some keen-eared boy called Newt -you knew who you were looking for.

"Miss Agnes," you jog, catching up to Teresa as she struts down the scary clean white walls of WCKD HQ. You hate it here. It's worlds away from the chaotic but cosy environment you spent your life in- from the small town that got plagued by the Flare to the Right Arm bases you helped run. It's too bright; too clean.

Part of your mission is to befriend Teresa. She's Ava Paige's personal lapdog, and if she likes you, you've got an in- and someone with power that will defend you. She seems to be fond of you, probably because if a lowlife peasant can like her, then maybe she isn't so bad.

You, obviously, despise her.

Your job wouldn't have become so complicated if it weren't for her, and you'd probably have a lot of people safe and sound in the Safe Haven. Your job was long, but it was originally to get as much information as physically possible and then flee, providing the knowledge to free more people and completely disrupt WCKD's plans. Now it's "tell Vince if you find this random kid."

"Ah, 175," she doesn't even know your fake name, "I was wondering where you'd got to."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is- busy guarding and all that." She scoffs. She's always found you funny; that might be why she likes you.

"Yes, well, as much as I'd love to chat, I've got to get to the labs." You're glad the mesh masks of your uniform shields your face because that means you can hide your panic.

"Sorry, uh, before you go- I heard one of the cargo trains was intercepted," her face visibly hardens, "I was wondering if that had anything to do with your old friends; the ones you told me about?"

She clears her throat, "I'm afraid so. I just-" she sighs, "Thomas thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks that this is what's best for him- but I'm trying to do what's best for humanity. It hurts that they don't understand that. But it's fine, because we prevented the Right Arm from getting our most reliable cargo."

"Oh?"

"I can't tell you much, I'm not allowed," she throws a sad smile your way. "I wish I could, though. You've been a great friend. So, let's just say one of the most impressive and consistent subjects is still in our possession."

She walks away, leaving you to huff and puff in the corridor. It made you sick how they spoke about people like they're objects. It's hard to believe the boys you're helping used to hold her so highly.

You return to your room. It's basically a box room that's big enough for a bed, but it's the only place that offers you any privacy. You yank your mask off, tossing it to the bed and pressing your fingers to your earpiece.

"Yo, Vince, you there?"

There's silence, followed by a sharp static. "(Y/N)? Did Teresa tell you anything?" You flop onto your bed, letting yourself move your hand away from your ear now the connection is stable.

"Not really, but she did mention about precious cargo being still intact- and an important test subject. The records I told you about before our raid said the train was coming here- we can only assume that this subject-"

"-Has to be Minho," Vince sounds stressed, groaning slightly.

"V? Everything alright over there?"

"Not really," he sighs, followed by the sound of a squeaking chair, "WCKD's jets have been snooping around base and Thomas, Newt and Frypan have gone AWOL- Brenda and Jorge left earlier to go and find them. But I doubt they're going to bring them back."

Honestly, you'd never spoken to any of these people, but you knew the names well enough to tell who they are.

"What are they going to do then?"

"What do you think?" You sit up on your elbows, processing what he's implying. "You might be having some company real soon."

"Does that mean I'll be able to leave?" Vince snorts a laugh. You've asked him that every single call since you started this gig.

"It might, actually," though, this is the first time you haven't gotten a no. "Keep an eye out for Minho. He should be arriving there within the next twelve hours. If not, he's somewhere else and you're going to have to do more snooping whilst I try to contact Thomas."

"Okay. Speak soon." The connection dies with a hiss.

This was going to be shit.

Not even two hours later, you hear the call off of your walky-talky that Guards are needed at the cargo entrance to transport Subjects. You flew at the opportunity, rushing into the crowds of your colleagues.

Joining the other members at the doors to the carpark, you watch as buses full of innocent people in handcuffs pull up- all in the depressing WCKD garb they're forced to wear. Some faces are familiar from browsing files, some new- all looked terrified.

You stay away from the front, dipping between masked personnel and observing from a distance. You knew exactly what you were looking for- Asian, dark-hair, well built, about eighteen-ish, good-looking, and probably angry. That was offered by some dude called Frypan. You doubt that's his real name, but you really hope it is.

You watch, processing faces and people as fast as you can as Guards grab the Subjects, holding one of their arms, which are handcuffed together in front of them, and leading them into the building. This could be the perfect opportunity to do something, but by the time you spot Minho, someone has beat you to it.

It's definitely him. His image and description match him perfectly, even if his hair is a little bit flatter. You silently curse as you try to make your way over to him, only for another Guard to force him to walk forward.

Okay, new plan- grab someone close and stay nearby.

You don't get to use that plan either when Minho suddenly lashes out. He slams his foot onto the Guard's, making the masked man yelp and let go. Minho takes the opportunity to spin around, kicking the guy in the chest and sending him flying.

Another Guard comes to help, but Minho has got a hold of a pair of keys from the previous guy, just about unlocking one of his wrists before dodging.

Shit.

This is bad. There's no way Minho is going to be able to escape the building under these circumstances. It's brutal and dangerous and he's going to get himself shot.

You act fast, breaking away from the colleagues waiting for their turn and being affected by the bystander effect. You watch as a Launcher is pointed at the boy, as another Guard tries to wrestle him. The guy gets kneed in the groin and you dive in from behind.

Minho seems to sense you're there, spinning around to punch you, but you grab his fist, catching him by surprise and giving you a second to react. You'd done a lot more than basic WCKD training. Vince has been teaching you to fight since you first met him.

You launch your heavy boot into the bottom of Minho's shin at the front of his ankle, causing his foot to bend awkwardly. Taking the opportunity to spin him around, pulling him in front of you. You're quick to switch your grip to his wrist, forcing his arm behind his back. Kicking the weak spot on the back of his knee, he hits the floor with a thump as you hold him in place.

Minho is physically stronger than you, easily. But, you have years of practical and strategical training over his head.

"Not bad, 175," you freeze as Janson's grating voice hits your ears, "do us all a favour and take care of that delinquent- he's unfortunately important."

"Yes, Sir." He stands at the front of the room, watching as the Subjects filter past him. "Come on."

You yank Minho up, forcing him back onto his feet, he groans, anger visibly seething from him.

You hold him close to you so you can lean into his ear and whisper. "Listen man, I don't wanna hurt you but there's no way you're gonna survive here if you keep pulling shit like that."

"Why should I listen to you?" He spits. His voice is scratchy and hollow, full of hatred and aggression.

"You'd rather listen to these assholes? Trust me, I do that pretty much daily, and it's not exactly an ideal lifestyle."

He scoffs. It's dry and very clearly forced. "You think I'm gonna be your friend just 'cause you don't like your coworkers?"

Unfortunately, you have to be vague. If someone overhears and you tell him you're an ally to the Right Arm, then you're a dead man. If they think it's just dumb workplace drama, then they probably won't bat an eye.

"Quite frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think about me- I'm here to do my job. Unfortunately, my boss wants you kept kickin'." That's subtle enough to not bring concern, but intruiging enough that Minho looks over his shoulder at you.

"175," you're moving through the corridors now, having left the parking area and moving to Subject dorms. Your attention diverts to behind you as Janson touches your shoulder, having left his observation of the transfer. "Come with me. Subject A7 has a private cell per the request of Miss Paige."

"Yes, Sir."

This could be good. Minho has his own room away from the other victims, which means you'll have easier access to him.

You follow your "Boss", making no attempt to communicate with Minho in such tense circumstances now.

"That was quite the stunt you pulled," Janson speaks, making you cringe under your mask. "I don't remember many Guards being taught much hand to hand combat- we mostly focus on arms training. It's impressive."

"I excelled in the brief lessons we had, Sir. I knew some beforehand since I had to look after myself in the Scorch- fighting Cranks is no easy task." You keep your voice calm. A lot of people have similar life experiences, and if you haven't lost absolutely everything, you're classed as lucky. So, it's no shock when you casually mention hardships, giving a plausible explanation to your skills.

"I suppose so. You've come a long way, you should be proud of yourself- from street rat to WCKD agent. That's quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you, Sir, but I'm just trying to survive- just like everyone else."

"Humble, too," you can hear the smirk in his voice, "no wonder Teresa likes you."

Shit. Minho physically tenses at the mention of her name. If Janson knows that you're friendly with Teresa, then it's not really a jump in logic for him to think you're up to something.

"I'm honoured to be held in such high regard, Sir." Janson seems satisfied with this response, humming slightly.

Minho is quick to notice how different you spoke to him vs. Janson. It's very clearly a front, but he can't afford to question it.

He leads you to a small room away from the group Dorms, opening the door with a key card and revealing it. It's pretty much the same as your room, which probably says a lot about the people you're pretending to work for.

"Okay, Minho," Janson addresses the boy, condescending and irritating, "no more little stunts, okay? Your friends and the Right Arm can't reach you here. It's better you just give up and help us save humanity." He looks at you, jolting his head towards the room.

You grit your teeth, but follow the insinuation, throwing in the boy as guilt washes over you.

○ ○ ○

"I've found the boy," you pace your room once you returned, immediately contacting Vince.

"So he's there? Do you have access to him?"

"Not really- I know where he is but only higher level personnel have access to it- like Janson." You did a brief sweep of the key card requirements before you left- you're not Hugh enough ranked.

"What about Teresa?"

"Yeah, she'll probably have access."

"Okay, you can work with that, surely."

You sigh, running your fingers though your hair, "Sure, yeah, I guess. But what do you even want me to do now? Break him out? Release his file to you? Both of us escape?"

"I want you to keep an eye on him."

"Seriously?" Your face twists into a frown. "Is that it?"

"We can't risk anything. You're a one man show and one of our best resources- Thomas and his group are probably already making their way to you. God knows what their plan is, but they have more chance with you inside."

"How are they even gonna get into the City? It's on lockdown."

"I have a feeling they'll find a way," Vince huffs, clearly tired of your pressing. "Just a little longer, kid, make sure Minho is alive and okay- I don't know what they're gonna do to him, but I need you to make sure he's still breathing. Am I clear?"

"Yep," you pop the P.

"I also need you to keep quiet about your position, even to Minho."

"What, why?"

"We don't know what WCKD are going to do to him. If he says anything about our operation or you, we've done all this for nothing."

"I guess- alright. I'll sort it," disconnecting and sighing, you lay on your bed. You need to rest. These next couple of days are going to suck.

○ ○ ○

You wake the next day, and immediately start your hunt for Teresa. You have a hunch she'll be dealing with the Minho situation, or at least observing it.

The problem is that the WCKD HQ is huge. And you don't know where the experiments will be taking place. Since your job mainly just consists of walking around and keeping an eye on things, it's not like you're raising any suspicions. Especially since you helped out yesterday.

You turn a corner, spotting Teresa and Ava Paige talking, looking into a lab room with a glass window- one of the several open testing rooms found in this part of the building. You slow your pace, watching from a distance.

Teresa seems to be distressed; her fists are balled and she swallows uncomfortably, almost like she's hypnotised by what she's watching but wants to look away. Ava is unfazed, but she brushes her prodigy's shoulder as she walks away, offering some kind of sympathy.

The sound of clicking heels fade, and you make your approach. Going to speak, your breath catches in your throat as you witness the gruesome scene.

Behind the glass, Minho is strung up to some kind of contraption. Screens surround him and wires come from all over his body. He's stood upright, a foot above the floor and held in place as they start the machine again. One of the screens shows brain wave patterns that indicate high levels of stress.

"He's dreaming." Teresa speaks without pulling her eyes away.

"Dreaming?" You question. This looks anything but peaceful to you.

"Induced dreaming- they're forcing him to experience high stress situations to see how it affects the Kill-Zone," her words are shakey, and you latch onto that.

"You don't sound like you approve." She looks at you, even though she's never seen you without your mask, your voice and the numbers sewn on your sleeve tell her enough- she could tell its you from a mile away.

"During my time in the Maze- and the Scorch -Minho was brave. He's one of the most courageous people I've ever met. I can't tell you how many times he threw himself on grenades to protect us." She smiles, almost fondly as she looks back at the glass. "One time, when we were escaping the WCKD lab after being saved from the Maze, he ran full force and kneed an armed Guard. Completely knocked him out in one go; still probably one of the coolest things I've heard someone do."

"He sounds like he meant a lot to you," she lets out a sad chuckle.

"They all meant a lot to me but... I don't know. I made choices they don't agree with. They refuse to see the bigger picture, and I don't think they ever will."

"Why don't you try talking to him? Maybe visit him in his cell? Even if it's just to make sure he's okay." Come on, if you can get her on this line of thinking, you're more likely to get into Minho's cell.

"I'm too busy- besides, I doubt he'd want to see me. He hates me."

"Ah, yeah, that's a problem," she laughs dryly.

"Would you do it for me?" You tilt your head at her, exaggerating your confusion.

"Do what for you?"

"Look after Minho? Janson says you handled him easily yesterday, so there's no worries about him escaping or causing problems."

"I can't- I don't have high enough card access to enter the cells." She looks at you, thinking for a second.

"I'll get your card access upgraded. I trust you to take care of him- he deserves as much."

And just like that, she'd played into your hands. You're mainly relieved your hours of talking to her had actually paid off in some sense, that much was proven when she found you later that day- presenting you with a new key card.

Heading towards Minho's cell, no one even batted an eye when they saw you slide the key down the lock and the light flashed green.

Minho's sat on the floor, back resting against the bed frame, his legs bent and head in his hands. He doesn't even react to the sound of the door opening or closing.

"I brought you some decent food."

Still nothing.

Cautiously, you walk over to him, crouching and placing the dish on the floor. He looks at it out of the corner of his eye, which is kind of an improvement.

You cross your legs, sitting next to him but facing him. Silence fills the room and you let it. Minho is going to have to talk to you on his own terms if he's going to talk to you at all.

A good five minutes passes.

"You're not gonna leave, are you?" His voice sounds dry and is barely a whisper compared to the aggressive boy you'd tackled not even forty-eight hours prior.

"Nope."

"Did you at least get me a shuckin' drink?"

"...I'll be back. What would you like?"

"Do I even have a choice?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"...Anything alcoholic?"

"No."

"Juice then."

You return ten minutes later with a glass full of orange juice, taking the sitting position that you had previously.

To your surprise, he's now sat with his legs crossed, holding the tray of beef, mash, gravy, and veg that you stole from the dining area on his lap.

You gently place the glass next to him, and he anxiously looks at it. "Not poisoned, right?"

You sigh, lifting the bottom on your mask and taking a sip, returning it to it's spot. He still hesitates, glancing down at his plate. So, you reach over, picking up a small piece of meat, struggling slightly to put it in your mouth under the mask.

He seems to accept this. It takes him a second, but he slowly starts eating- mainly picking at the food and taking slight sips of his drink, but progress is progress.

"You should count yourself lucky- the others aren't getting this quality food."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" You guess that comment was a bit insensitive.

"Sorry, but you need to eat. You need the energy."

"What? So I'm strong enough to be tortured?"

You hesitate, feeling genuinely bad. "I'm sorry that-"

"No, you're not!" He snaps to face you, eyes full of fury and for a second you think he's going to attack you. "175, right?" He glances at your sleeve, "You stopped me from escaping."

"I stopped you from getting killed."

"I had it under control."

"Didn't look like it." His jaw tenses, staring down at his meal. "WCKD's Guards are trained with guns and weaponry- you're important but not nearly enough for them to risk you ruining their whole operation."

"You mean your whole operation."

"Whatever," you spit, determined to follow Vince's request, "I saved your ass, whether you appreciate it or not. I didn't know what they were going to do to you, I'm only here because-"

"Because Teresa wants you to look after me?" You blink at him, even if he can't see it. "Yeah, I saw you, even if I wasn't conscious. I knew it was you- same height and everythin'. You're helping that shuck-faced shank 'cause she feels bad that she's a shuckin' traitor that sentenced all her friends to death. Betraying little-"

"Okay," you cut him off, "I get it. I don't agree with it- do you seriously think I'd be here if I was just doing this because some bitch who doesn't even respect me asked?"

He looks at you. He really looks at you, like he can see straight through your uniform and into your soul.

"What other reason do you have?"

You shake your head, sighing through your mask. "Finish your food. I need to get rid of the dish- I'll get in deep shit if they find out I'm giving handouts to prisoners."

"The traitor didn't tell you to feed me?"

"Nah, did that all on my own." He snorts, kind of like a forced laugh, but he seems to relax a bit.

The remainder of your interaction is in silence. Minho finishes his food quickly, picking up pace once he gets taste for it. He finishes his drink, passing the glass to you instead of just putting it on the ground.

You stand and leave without saying another word. Minho doesn't attempt to change that.

This is going to be harder than you first thought.

Thomas better work fast.

○ ○ ○

You desperately try to avoid Teresa the next day, and you missed Minho for breakfast since they already took him for another round of glorified torture.

Your avoidance did not work.

"175." You've been guarding the entrance of the building for the last seven hours and you think you're starting to hallucinate. So, when Teresa actually approaches you, probably to leave for the day, you kind of wish she wasn't real.

"Hey," you greet her, for some reason smiling even though there is literally no point. "You okay?"

"I was wondering how Minho's doing?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" You attempt to joke, but when her face drops, you realise you've miss-stepped. "He's fine. As fine as you can be in this situation." You lie, mainly just wanting her to leave.

"Okay," she nods her head, accepting this, "thank you for this."

"It's no problem, Miss Agnes."

"Please, call me Teresa," she offers you a genuine smile and for a second you understand why Minho's so hurt.

"Okay then, Teresa." She flashes another smile before walking through the doors. Of course, WCKD scientists get high-end apartments away from the building.

The second day of your new routine starts. You bring Minho food- and you remember the juice, though it does make it harder to open the door.

This time, he's lay on the floor. Not the bed, the floor.

"Uh, you good?" The question even sounds dumb leaving your lips.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" He grumbles, eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling.

"Yeah, fair point." You sit on the edge of his bed, putting the food next to you but still holding the glass so it doesn't spill. Having a sticky orange juice covered bed would not improve his day. "I've brought you chicken wings and some fries, they were out of the healthy option."

He reluctantly sits up, shuffling across the floor and using the bed as a table as he sits in front of you. You pass his the drink and he sets it on the floor.

"If you're not doing this for Teresa, why are you doing this?" He asks between struggled mouthfuls of food.

You shrug, playing off your intentions. "Wanna pretend I'm a good person."

He scoffs, "No one who works here is a good person."

"That's why I said pretend."

You like to think you're doing a good job at keeping up the act. And maybe if Minho wasn't so exhausted and in pain, he might pick up on something not being quite right.

Though, you have to at least provide Vince with some kind of intel. Teresa said he's dreaming to stress the Kill-Zone part of the brain, but what's the point?

"What exactly are they doing to you?" He pauses for moment, clearly not wanting to think about it.

"Torture."

"I mean, I gathered that." Unfortunately, you have to stay stoic. Fortunately, you've basically been trained your whole life for this.

"I don't know- they put me in some weird trance and I see all the horrible things that's happened mixed with, like, a remix of traumatic things I've gone through- like they're using my shuckin' memories against me to make new ones or some klunk."

Well, that offered nothing, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's weird. It feels so real and I can't tell it's fake when it's happening. But I'll be getting chased by Grievers down concrete corridors, or be back in that mall being hunted down by Cranks, except it's warped and keeps changing and I can't find the way we escaped. It's like being back in the shuckin' Maze, except they can control my entire body and make me do whatever they want. It's the Maze without being safe in the Glade at night, and I don't actually know how to survive."

"Huh," now, this is interesting.

"What? What is it?"

"They're trying to gain similar- or better -results as they did for the Maze trails. Except the Right Arm knows the location of all the Mazes, and pretty much all WCKD facilities so they're being forced to use psychological torture and hallucinations to mimic it instead. Since the City is on lockdown and no one can access it."

He pauses completely, blinking at you.

"What? I don't get it- why would torturing a bunch of immune teenagers help anyone."

"Because they want to cure the Flare."

"So?"

"So, Munnies and normal folk have the same structure brain, except the Kill-Zone area, the part of the brain that's damaged by the Flare, is left unaffected in those who are immune. The Kill-Zone reacts under extreme stress and produces new results and hormones that could, in theory, be used to create a cure."

Minho stops completely, the fork he's holding clattering onto the plate as he just stares at you.

"What?"

"How the shuck do you know all this? You're just a Guard but you know the biology behind all the science?"

"It's kind of common knowledge," you bluff, "the Flare's been plaguing humanity for a while- everyone knows the basic science behind it. I don't know what they expected, really."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know the Flare is man-made, right?"

A beat passes, horror crossing Minho's face. "What?"

"When the Solar Flares hit, millions of people died, but half the world was pretty much left kinda intact. But, it meant we lost half the globe's worth of supplies and important necessities, so the growing population issue grew tenfold. So, for some fuckin' reason, the big bosses of the World thought it would be a smart idea to make a deadly virus to use as population control. The virus was too strong, spread too fast- those geniuses didn't think to make a cure just in case things went wrong. And, well, the rest is history."

You're actually shocked that Vince, or even WCKD didn't tell them this, because Minho seems genuinely dumbfounded.

"Shuck it," he rests his elbows on the bed, head in his hands. "Why am I not even surprised? Trust some random WCKD shank to be giving me a buggin' history lesson."

"Kinda figured someone woulda said something."

"Yeah, well, they didn't. Some shuck-face shucked up and now I'm being literally tortued to fix it. Brilliant."

"Bummer," he snorts at this.

"Yeah, you can shuckin' say that again."

"Why do you talk like that?" You decide to ask him more questions, mainly because you are genuinely confused.

"Like what?"

"Like that? Yanno, shuck, shank, buggin', klunk- you talk fuckin' weird."

"It's just how we spoke in the Glade. Don't really know how it started, but it's engrained in my vocab now."

"That's kinda cool," he raises his eyebrow, starting to eat again, "leave a bunch of teenagers to fend for themselves and they start makin' up words. It's just interesting."

"Yeah," he hums, "guess it kinda is."

○ ○ ○

You fell surprisingly easily into a routine. You talk to Minho, inform Vince of the current WCKD methods and then go about your job.

It's a lot of effort, but Minho is starting to be less reluctant to talk to you. He fondly retells stories of the Glade, like how he and Thomas survived a night, how bad Frypan's stew was, and that one time Zart accidentally burnt down a hut and Gally didn't talk to him for a month. It sounds like they were genuinely happy there, and it breaks your heart that Minho seems to wish he was back in that trap. Especially when he tells some of the darker stories.

But now there's a problem. Vince had always been touchy and strict about relationships. He didn't want you distracted or upset over some boy, so relationships were forbidden. And considering he's the closest you have to a father figure, you obeyed. Though, that means you've never been romantically involved with a boy through your entire teenage years.

And the first time you've ended up spending long amounts of time with a boy is with the torture victim you're trying to comfort whilst simultaneously convincing him you're the reason for his capture. A very good-looking boy who seems to be warming up to you.

A very good-looking, strong boy who listens to what you tell him and seems to be taking an interest in you and is very passionate about his opinions. Opinions that, unbeknownst to him, align perfectly with yours.

Oh no.

"I don't even know your name." You and Minho sit on the floor, playing Black Jack with a pack of cards you managed to sneak into his room. He's slowly being worn down. His features are more sucken, his skin pale and his hair dishevelled and messy. None of which you can really help. "Or what you look like."

"You don't need to know my name, or what I look like, to get your ass handed to you at Twenty-One last time I checked." He rolls his eyes. He acts like a completely different person around you than to the other Guards. It's hard to watch the empty shell of the person he normally is in this room be pushed around.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"No can do, sweetheart," admittedly, you want to take your mask off because it makes seeing the cards harder. But it does mean you don't have to worry about your pokerface.

Pet names had become an interesting topic. You used to endearingly call members of the Right Arm things like sweetheart, or doll, or hun- something you picked up from your father. Something that has bled into your relationship with Minho.

Not that he complains.

"C'mon," he groans, "how am I meant to be friends with a faceless freak?"

"You think we're friends?" You ask, genuinely as you take another card off of the deck, cringing as it's the ten of clubs which takes you to twenty-five.

"Well," he shrugs, "what else am I meant to call it? Stockholme Syndrome?"

"Wouldn't be that wrong of a diagnosis. You taking another card?"

"Are you?" You shake your head. Minho reveals his hand, showing twenty on his cards, and you dramatically throw yours down, showing your loss.

"God dammit!" He barks a laugh at your reaction. "Why am I so bad at this?"

"You're just playing against a master," you galre at him, "I had plenty of practice in the Glade."

"It's a game based on luck- you can't master it."

"That's what you think."

○ ○ ○

Maybe you got too used to your routine- too comfortable with Minho and the situation you're in, but when Teresa told you she'd finally gained enough courage to speak to Minho, you knew it would end badly.

Teresa enlisted you to guard the room, but with the door closed and your colleagues discussing lunch next to you, it's kinda hard to hear what's going on.

That's until Minho screams the word "Traitor" followed by a loud slamming noise.

Shit.

The other Guards scramble into the room, knocking into you and halting your progress. You burst in, panic swelling in your chest as one of them holds up a buzzing taser. Darting forward, you grab the Guard's arm, placing one arm on Minho's back to at least play it off as the shocked masked man lets go slightly.

"Stop!" You snap. "He's subdued! We don't need to inflict unnecessary pain!"

"It's protocol to-"

"175 is right," Teresa comes to your defense, controlling the atmosphere of the room. "Subject A7 has been through enough- he's in no position to cause any further harm. Return him to his cell and only act if necessary."

Without words, you yank Minho up by the back of his shirt, cringing at the 'PROPERTY OF WCKD' printed on the back. You undo the cuffs from the table and reattach them to his wrists. He makes no effort to resist. He knows he's safer with you than he is with any of his other options.

You walk him down the halls. The rage seeps off of him, his skin under his shirt is warm and his cuffed hands are balled. Unlocking the door to his cell, you push him in, probably a little bit too aggressive. But you tell yourself it's for show.

"What the fuck was that?" You hiss, stepping into the cell. Minho immediately turns to face you, his nostrils flaring, jaw tense and for the first time, you realise how scary he really can be.

"You're shucking kidding, right?" He shouts, causing you to immediately panic and try to shush him. "I'm here because of her! Everything we did- everything we went through- is because of her! And you expect me to be calm about this klunk? Just because you can act like an apathetic shuck-face, doesn't mean I can!"

He slowly walks towards you, throwing his words at you. You back away, not realising how close the door is until you hit your back against it. Minho towers over you, still in cuffs, leaving very little space between you as his chest rises and falls.

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You're helping them! You are keeping me here! Why? You clearly don't like them and have some morals deep down- but you're still bringing me to this shuckin' cell!"

"I have no choice!" You finally shout back, making him flinch. "I don't want to watch this shit- or hurt you or anyone! But I can't help you if I'm fucking dead, Minho! You can get away with this shit because they need you! They don't need me! If I step too far out of line- then I'm dead!"

His features soften as he steps back, giving you more room to breathe.

"What exactly do you want me to do? Trust me, if I could, we'd be long gone from this hell-hole but I have no way of doing that without at least me ending up in a body bag." You huff, crossing your arms across your chest. "And what use would I be to you then?"

The bed squeaks under Minho's weight as he sits down. His legs are spread, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. Neither of you say anything for a couple of minutes; you take the opportunity to compose yourself.

Until Minho sniffs.

"Minho?" You push away from the door, cautiously making slow steps towards him. "Minho? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this anymore," his voice breaks as he speaks, shattering your heart in the process. "I can't- I don't- how am I meant to keep doing this?" He groans, frustration mixed with a sob shakes his whole body.

You make the bold move to sit next to him, being closer to him than you've ever dared before at the bed sinks under your weight, you shoulders bumping slightly.

"This is so much worse than the shuckin' Maze- at least I had some control in there. But here? My body- my mind- I- fuck! I have nothing. I-I feel like I'm dying. I can't live like this. Teresa said that I'm saving some kid by being tortured. But what about me? What about all the other shanks they're putting through this klunk? How is this fair? For a shuckin' maybe? They don't even know it's gonna work- how can you justify this?"

You choose to ignore the final comment, even if it stings. Gingerly, you put your arm around his shoulders, rubbing small circles into the top of his arm. He doesn't pull away, his arms dropping to between his legs.

"It's gonna be okay," you sooth him, "we're gonna get out of here, okay?" He scoffs, shaking his head.

"How am I meant to believe you? I can't even trust you."

You know he's right, but it doesn't hurt any less. You wish you could tell himself everything. About the Right Arm and why you're here- everything that Vince told you to keep to yourself.

"I know," you sigh, "I'm sorry." He looks at you, his tear stained face and puffy eyes sending a new drive of determination through you.

To your shock, he rests his head on your shoulder, allowing you to hug him further, resting your head on top of his.

"I hate you," he whispers, more like he's trying to convince himself than he is telling you.

In all honesty, Minho probably had started to develop some liking towards you. And that's what he hates. He thinks you're the enemy, that you're the reason he's here- but he doesn't have anyone else. He's completely on his own until you come into his room. He doesn't even know who you are, but he's already getting attached to you.

"Yeah, I know. Want me to take your cuffs off?"

"Please."

○ ○ ○

You slam the door to your room, immediately throwing your mask across the small space, hearing it thump against the wall. You connect to Vince, fury coursing through tour veins.

"(Y/N)?" The line connects in your ear, "You're not meant to be calling at this-

"Vince," your voice is sharp and concerned, "I need to do something- Minho is on the verge of a complete mental breakdown and I'm starting to regress in progress." You refer to his words instead of his actions- things are already complicated enough.

"Look, I'm in contact with Jorge. Things should start moving soon; Thomas and Newt have made a deal to get into the City. Stick to the plan and be prepared. I need to go."

"What? Vince-" the line falls dead, leaving you alone in your room.

The tests increase over the next couple of days. You've barely seen Minho, and Teresa completely vanishes for nearly an entire day, which raises alarm bells all over the tower- but she returns seemingly unharmed.

Until the alarms start blaring not even hours later.

Fuck.

"175!" A masked Guard bursts into your dorm, scaring the shit out if you not even seconds after the blaring starts. "There are intruders in the building! The Subjects have been released!Come on!"

He runs off, giving you absolutely no time to process what's happening. Diving under your bed, you pull out guns and weaponry you snuck into the building, straping them around your black turtle neck you wear under your uniform before hiding them with your jacket.

You burst out of the room, pulling your mask on and joining the hoards of Guards flooding through the building.

You break away. You know that Minho will be in the testing area since he won't have been with the other Subjects. So, that's where you go.

The tower has fallen into complete chaos. People are shooting at each other and Guards are running around like headless chickens.

You can't get distracted though.

You break into a sprint, staying away from everyone else as you rush to make your way up to the lab where Minho can normally be found. The lab area is surprisingly quiet, probably because you decided to take the stairs for the most part. Using your endless training for Vince to run up the multiple flights of stairs.

You do give up and take an elevator for the last few floors though. You're not superman.

Bursting onto the floor, several scientists seem thrilled that help is here, and are met with disappointment when you completely ignore them. Sprinting down the halls, you skid to a halt.

One of the lab rooms has the door thrown open. A man in a white lab coat is lay on the floor, blood pouring from his side as others seem to be knocked out and scattered across the room.

"Fuck!" You exclaim. If you had any doubts that Minho could handle himself, you definitely don't now.

"175!" Two Guards stand at the end of the hallway. "Subject A7 has escaped! We need to find him. Come on!"

You're left with little choice but to follow them. You all jog down the corridors, the opposite way to which you were originally planing on tracking Minho's footsteps.

You can see Minho, and assumingly Thomas and Newt hugging beyond a room that's walls are all glass. One of the windows from the far room is completely shattered, and you can see a knocked out Guard on the floor.

"Hands up!" The Guard on your left shouts, catching the three boys off-guard. "Drop your weapons!"

Judging by the fact none of the trio move, you're assuming that they've ran out of ammo.

One on your left, the other on your right, you whip your gun out, pointing it at your unsuspecting allies.

It's now or never.

Minho's face drops at the realisation it's you. Was everything you said a lie to make him more compliant? Despite the uniform, he's gotten completely used to you based on height and the brown army boots you wear- different to the black owns adorn by the rest of WCKD employees. It's a subtle difference implemented by Vince just in case. But Minho doesn't know that.

"Seriously?" He snaps, making the other boys exchange glances. "After all this- everything that's happened- you're still with them?"

Newt and Thomas look completely lost, looking back at Minho, who is staring directly at you, hands still at his side.

"Please," you scoff, "I was never with them."

Without warning, you slam your elbow into the stomach of the guard on your left, using the shock to slam to end of your gun into the side of their head. The other one goes to shoot at you, but you rip your Guard's jacket off, throwing it at them.

It engulfs them entirely, making them stumble back. Pointing the pistol at them, a loud bang fills the room as the bullet finds its new home through the fabric and in the Guard's head. Their body hits the floor in a heap and you make no attempt to retrieve your jacket.

Minho steps back, stunned. His hands go to his hair as the other boys lower their arms.

"It's nice to finally meet you, (Y/N)." Thomas sounds surprisingly calm, Newt looks between him and Minho, the cogs setting in place.

"Likewise," you grab the bottom of your mask, pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Finally revelaing yourself to Minho, you feel slightly insecure about what he'll think of your face, but you don't show it. Not that it matters because he's staring at you in some form of awe.

"What? You guys know- what? What is happening?"

"I'll explain later- we need to move." The boys all mumble in agreement as you join them, hearing footsteps and Janson's irriating voice not that far away.

You all start moving, you taking the lead with more of an understanding of the building.

"What? I don't understand what's happening? How do you know her?" He asks Thomas as your eyes land on Newt. You've seen their files, a long time ago, but you can tell who's who.

Newt's skin is pale, his eyes dark and he glistens with sweat. He's infected. And you're not immune. This could end badly.

"She's with the Right Arm- Vince's secret weapon."

"Sorry I didn't tell you, hun, but I was under strict orders to keep my mouth shut. Let's just get out of here alive and I'll explain everything," you try to hurry them along. "Tommy-boy, fill me in on what's going on."

Just as the words leave your mouth, static connects in your ear. Vince.

"(Y/N), I'm on my way to the City- what's going on on your end?"

"I'm with the boys," you respond, completely confusing the trio even more. Voices behind you and footsteps make you all break into a sprint. "Here! Come on!" You pull them into a room, they barricade the door as you continue talking.

"We're tryna get out but it's not looking good."

"What now?" Newt asks as you all examine the room. "Is there another way out of here?" He asks you and you simply shake your head.

The drilling sound of a mechanical saw fills to room.

"Any ideas?" Minho shouts, backing away from the door.

Thomas turns around, examining the window. "Maybe."

It take the three of them to pick up a metal container, presumably full of anaesthetic gas through the window. It shatters on impact, sending shards and the cannister hundred of feet down into the water.

You all stand on the edge, looking at the boy as he seems to be questioning himself. "Okay, it's doable- just need a little running start."

All three of look at each other like Thomas is losing his mind. But you still all follow him further back into the room, standing by his side. You stand between Minho and Thomas, taking a second to think about how you life has led you to this.

"You sure about this?" Minho asks him, and it's obvious these boys are going to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

"Not really."

Well, that's brilliant.

"Nice pep talk." Minho sarcastically states, his wit still prominent as ever.

"Yeah, we're all blood inspired."

At least the feeling is mutual.

The door bursts open with a bang, all of you turning to face Janson breaking into the room before Minho grabs your hand, dragging you with him as you all break into a sprint. Jumping at the last second, you all plummet out of the window.

"Thomas!" Minho yells.

"Oh shit!" Thomas responds.

You're submerged in the water, just managing to hold your breath last second. It takes all of you a moment to rise again, all panting and all stressed.

Gasping for air, you and Minho look up, catching Janson standing at the edge of the window.

Thomas puts his middle finger up at him.

Kind of iconic.

Swimming to get to the ledge, you make sure they reach them first, taking Thomas' hand as he pulls you out of the water.

"You four, don't move!" You all immediately turn to face to group of WCKD's armed men walking towards you. Thomas takes the front as Minho grabs your arm, pulling you protectively behind him.

He seems to have forgiven you pretty fast, at least.

"Take it easy!" One of the masked men shouts. Hidden by Minho, you pull another gun out of your weapon holder that's strapped around your middle. Thomas also reaches for a gun.

"Ah-ah! Don't even think about it! Get on your knees with your hands in the air!"

One of the Guards suddenly turns around, shooting the other three that are standing with him. Minho immediately steps back, reaching for you and finding contact with your wrist.

"You son of a bitch!" One of them groans, the electricity from the Launcher leaving them useless.

Your savior approaches, taking his mask of and revealing... some dude. Though the others seem shocked.

"Gally?" Minho gasps, and you snap to look at him, returning to his side.

"Minho." The boy simply says. "You guys are nuts." He looks at you. "(Y/N) (L/N), big fan." You blink at him.

"Thanks?"

"I'll explain later," Thomas playful pats his friend on the arm whilst Minho is having some kind of internal meltdown. He's going to be enlightened by the time everyone's told him everything.

The other boys walks ahead and you look at him. "I thought you said you..." You trail off, completely at a loss yourself and remembering what he'd told you about Gally.

"Yeah, me too."

You both connect back to the group, awkwardly ducking and crouching whilst you run through the City.

Trying to hide from helicopters isn't easy.

"Well, they're definitely pissed," Gally states as you hide behind some planters that some trees are in.

"How far are the tunnels?" Thomas asks the new boy.

"Uh, maybe twelve blocks from here." Newt coughs, and you look at Minho, who is very clearly in some serious distress. "We can make it."

"Newt, how you feeling?" Minho crouches in front of his friend.

"Terrible," the boy responds honestly. "It's good to see you though." He pats his friend weakly, and you remind yourself to stay at a safe distance.

Minho joins the other boys whilst you stay with Newt. "He's one lucky shank," Newt tries to laugh.

"What?"

"Havin' you around- some badass chick lookin' after him whilst we couldn't. Pretty, too." You scoff at Newt's attempt at small talk.

"I don't know if he'll agree with that."

"Hey, Newt, we gotta get you up. Gotta get goin'." You help Thomas pull up the sick boy, who nearly falls flat on his face whilst Minho and Gally exchange some words.

Minho takes Newt off of your shoulders, sensing your slight distance from the boy.

They start struggling to carry Newt through the City, when a load explosion and bursts of flames from the walls stops you all dead in your tracks.

"We're supposed to take down WCKD, not the whole damn City," Gally stares into the flames, and you have no idea what's going on. But that's not good.

"Gally, c'mon," Thomas say, yanking them both away whilst you stand with Gally, waiting for him to move. Sirens fill your ears as you start to follow him.

"Tunnels are right up ahead. Shit!" You move round a corner, following Gally's instructions, only to come across a battle field. "Stay low! Stay low!"

"What are they waiting for?" Minho asks as you all hide once again. Unfortunately, he's answered as another round of explosions courses through the streets.

Violence erupts. "We gotta go! We gotta go!" The boys struggle moving Newt again, and you stay behind Gally. Desperately trying to not get hit, you hold your gun in your hands, ready to kill anyone that gets too close. Your job now is to protect these boys.

You retreat to a nearby building, where Thomas contacts Brenda over the radio. You can't make out what they're saying over the static and gunshots. You're too busy trying to shield Newt and Minho.

Though you do make out a clear. "I'm coming to you."

Vince.

You pick up again. "We're almost there," Gally pushes forward, taking the lead as you cover the back.

"Just leave me," Newt grumbles before a truck explodes, sliding across the roads.

A Berg flies overhead, giving you some glimsp of hope. But with Newt is his current condition, you can't keep moving.

"Minho," Thomas looks at his friend, "you run ahead, grab the serum, and get back to us as soon as you can." The boy hesitates, looking at Thomas. "Minho. Go."

"He's right," Gally states, "I can cover."

"Me too," you add.

"No, you're staying here, you could get hurt," Minho tells you, showing you that he actually might not hate you after all.

"I'm coming with you." You're more definite, putting your foot down and leaving with no choice.

Minho caves, going to stand until Newt grabs him. "Thank you." Black drool covers his chin, and his eyes are bloodshot and shifty. He's not gone just yet, but it's not far off. "Thank you, Minho."

"Hey, just hang on, you hear me?"

The three of you make your move. You and Gally cover the faster boy, both of you using your expertise to let him make a run for it.

Teresa's voice rings over the loudspeakers. Her voice trying to pressure Thomas to return to her. But you, Gally and Minho can't afford to stop and listen.

Running at full speed, you reach the Berg, not taking any time to acknowledge your father figure you haven't seen in nearly two years.

"Where's the serum?" Minho yells at a girl with short hair- you're assuming Brenda.

She makes a run for it. Bolting through the City and you're all hot on her heels, a new boy, Frypan, joining the mix.

The four of you get stuck in a tunnel during a shootout, using a car for cover as Brenda keeps going.

"Shit," Minho hisses from next to you. You look at him. "You should've told me."

"I couldn't," the poor Frypan clearly has no idea what either of you are talking about. "You know I couldn't."

"I could've- we could've- shuck it!" He lashes out, kicking a piece of debris that's in front of him. "We need to help Newt. This can wait."

He's mad at you. It's weird- he's protective but furious. He doesn't want you to get hurt but that might be because he wants to hurt you himself.

"Come on!" Gally shouts, "We're clear! Let's move!"

And with that, you're all on your feet again, dodging bullets and flying through the City to try and return to Thomas and his sick friend.

You slow to a jog as the people in front of you slow, spotting Brenda motionlessly standing in an empty pathway. You once again stay back, just about joining them as you watch Minho hit the floor.

His body crumbles in front of Newt's corpse, a knife sticking out of his chest. You stand next to Brenda, observing the distraught washing over the group. You've known Newt for under half an hour, but you can tell he played a huge part in these people's lives.

You suck in a deep breath, approaching Minho from behind. "I'm sorry," you murmur. "I'm so sorry, Minho."

He pulls his eyes away, looking at you instead as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

"You really couldn't have done anything, could you?" He's sincere, all of his anger washing away for a second. You shake your head.

He's on his feet in seconds, throwing his arms around you, knocking you back slightly. His entire world as he knows it is crumbling, but he's seeking comfort in you.

You hug him back, your hand coming to the back of his head, holding him steady as his body trembles. "We can't stay here," you whisper. "We need to move."

"She's right," Gally agrees, overhearing, "it's dangerous. We need to get back to the Berg."

"What about Thomas?" Brenda's voice breaks.

"We'll find him," you pull away from the boy. "But we have more chance of doing that from the Berg."

They all agree, leaving Newt's body and returning to the perilous task of making your way through the City. You take control, being the only person in sound mind to do so.

It takes a lot, but you get there, making sure everyone enters the Berg before you.

"(Y/N)!" You turn as Vince makes his way over to you. "You did it!"

"Vince!" Throwing your arms around him, you allow yourself to relax. You both pull away, emotions of the past two years of your life finally starting to spill out. "We lost Newt."

He sighs. "I'm sorry. But you did everything you could."

"No," you sniff, "I didn't. I could have done more- figured something out. Done literally anything else- I- I could've saved him."

Unbeknownst to you, Minho is watching and listening from a distance. He's known you as stern and in control this entire time, but watching you fall apart in Vince's presence reminds him that you're just another kid that's been put through hell.

He wasn't mad at you anymore. Seeing Newt's corpse and the sympathy you possessed showed him that. But now he pities you. He doesn't know anything of the sacrifices you've made.

"That wasn't your job- it was meant to just be a simple intel gig and it all went wrong. I shouldn't have put that pressure on you." Vince's words do little to make you feel better.

"We have to find Thomas," you compose yourself, returning to your normal stoic form in the blink of an eye.

You make your way onto the Berg, Vince not too far behind you. You make eye contact with Minho, but you don't have time to deal with that right now.

"Miss (L/N)," (you're assuming) Jorge approaches you, a grin on his face, "it's an honour to meet you." He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Ha! You're a living legend, hermano. In the flesh."

"Don't go praising me so soon, dude, this shit ain't over yet." He follows you like a lost dog as you travel further into the ship, "Have you got Thomas' location?"

"The signals weak and the building's burning- but he seems to have returned to the area of WCKD's tower."

"That's where we'll head then."

"Wait," Vince stands behind you as you ignore the stares from the Berg full of people, "the City's being destroyed- I don't know if this is a good idea."

"We can't leave him- we wouldn't be here if it weren't for him he deserves a chance at a happy life and we've already lost too many good people. We're saving Thomas, V. I don't care what you say." Vince looks at Jorge, who has a faint smile creeping across his and returns the stare.

"I'm doin' what the girl says. Kid's got fire; can tell you raised her." Jorge winks at you, making his way to the cockpit.

"You've changed, huh?" You don't even bother looking at Vince.

"It's been a rough couple of years. Let's just get this over with."

The Berg starts up, and you join Brenda, Gally, Frypan and Minho at the open doors, examining the City and the surrounding area of the burning tower.

"So," Gally starts, "everything they say about you? It true?"

"Depends what they're saying." You don't pull your eyes away from the ground as the Berg moves in large, circular motions.

"A lot of klunk about causing WCKD problems- apparently you were the one that convinced Thomas to release WCKD co-ordinates to Dr. Cooper."

Minho looks at you, but don't meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I might've had something to do with that."

You finally raise higher, examining the top of the now fully inflamed tower.

"There!" You shout, "That's them!" Thomas is clearly injured, half being carried by Teresa.

So, he did return.

"What's wrong with him?" Frypan shouts and you shake your head.

"I don't know. Jorge! Get closer!"

There's a struggle as the Berg moves, your hearing turns to static as all you can focus on is reaching them. Qualms with Teresa aside, she's clearly helping Thomas.

Come on! Move closer! Let's go!

The same phrases are repeated as you slide further down the door, clinging onto one of the wire hinges so you don't fall and join them. You grab Thomas, along with the others' hands grabbing towards him, with the help of Teresa throwing him.

You manage to pull him on, and he immediately turns to Teresa. You go to reach out to her, but an explosion knocks her back, forcing the Berg to pull away.

A missile hits the building, and you all watch in horror as it collapses beneath Teresa, swallowing her into the darkness.

○ ○ ○

The next few hours are a complete blur. Thomas had been shot and was seriously bleeding out. With the help of you and Vince, you managed to slow the bleeding.

You didn't even get a chance to admire the Safe Haven when you finally landed because you were too busy trying to save Thomas' life. You got him to the medical professionals, and after several jarring hours, they confirmed he'd be okay. But he'd be asleep for a while.

Since then, you've been spending all your time catching up with Vince and reconnecting with the people you grew up with. It's very bittersweet, and you haven't had the chance, or the bravery, to talk to Minho yet.

You decided to give the Gladers some space. They'd been through hell and they need to process and talk amongst themselves for a while.

After a while, Thomas wakes up, and you watch his reunion with Minho from a distance.

Your feelings for Minho are complicated, and it's beyond clear, so are his for you. It wasn't ever going to be simple, but the events of him turning to you for comfort at least tell you there's more than his initial anger.

"You like him, don't you?" Vince's voice makes you jump as you lean against a wooden beam, observing from your safe space.

"What?"

"Minho? You like him."

You scoff. "I don't think it really matters. I don't know if it ever will."

"You protected him and saved him."

"I also held him captive and did nothing to stop the torture."

"You couldn't have done anything."

"That's not the point, and you know it."

He sighs.

"I thought you were against boys and shit, anyway?" You glance over your shoulder at him.

He shrugs, "You're clearly more than capable of making your own choices. And we're not permanently fighting for our lives anymore, so I don't really have a problem with it. You deserve to have a normal life, kid. You might finally get that here." He rubs your shoulder, slipping past and leaving you to think.

○ ○ ○

Night falls quickly. Vince finally gives a speech, earning rounds of cheers from around the bonfire as you hover behind him, staring off into the crowd with your hands in your pockets.

Vince reveals a large stone pillar in the centre of the sitting area, talking about remembering those we've lost and keeping their memories alive. You watch as Vince is the first, carving Mary's name into the stone.

To your surprise, Vince then immediately hands the chisel to you. You blink at it, before realising and taking it off of you.

People one by one, with their own tools, take the chance to add to the memorial.

You take your time, carving names into the stone, recounting the events of your life. You step back, smiling to yourself, admiring your own work. Even under the depressing conditions.

"Who are they?" You look over your shoulder, your body following you as you stand sideways. Minho's gaze is fixated on the stone. He looks a lot better now, clearly having a couple of days to recover.

"They're uh, they're my parents," you avoid his gaze, but answer honestly.

"You lost your parents?"

"I've lost everyone. My whole family, but I don't think there's enough space for them all," the joke is dark, and Minho doesn't laugh, even when you scoff.

"I had no idea."

"How could you?" You sigh, "You know nothing about me."

"Do you miss them?" The question makes you hesitate.

"I barely knew my mother- the Flare got her when I was young, so..."

"That's not what I asked," his tone is blunt, obviously still harbouring some negativity within the complications.

"...Yes. I miss them. I doubt there will be a day when I don't. My father used to say something that I think is still important- 'mortality doesn't ruin love; it only makes it stronger'."

He looks at you. For the first time, he seems to finally see the real person that's standing in front of you. "Does it ever get better?"

"Yeah, it gets better," you offer him a sympathetic smile, knowing what he's talking about. "The painful memories just become... memories after a while. It feels like it'll never get better, but it does. It becomes precious instead of hard to think about." You step towards him, handing the chisel to him.

He takes it, slowly, seemingly letting your fingers brush against each other on purpose. You go to walk away, but his voice stops you.

"Hey, 175," the number stuns you, making you spin on your heels, rage flooding your features. But it melts away the second you see Minho's dumb grin. "You're right. I don't know anything about you- but I'd like to. If you're willing to tell me."

You nod, smiling at him, "Yeah, I'd like that."

So, when you found Minho sitting on the sand later that night, sitting in front of the ocean, basking in the moonlight, you take the opportunity to approach him.

You silently sit next to him, and he looks at you, following your movements. You pull something out of your pocket, lightly shaking the small box that he immediately recognises as a deck of cards.

"Fancy a game?" He scoffs, turning to face you.

"Only if you actually talk to me."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"What's worth knowing?"

"Ah, well, that depends on what you deem important."

You fall into a surprisingly natural conversation with him. Both of you actually laughing at some of the things you tell him and the dumb stories from the Right Arm. You also somehow manage to finally win a game of Black Jack, much to Minho's dismay.

"So," you shuffle, brushing some of the sand off of one of your cards, "you still wanna be friends?" Originally, you said this jokingly, but Minho's hesitation makes you nervous.

"Not really," he says after a beat, and your heart sinks. "Shuck it," he laughs, "maybe I really do have, what was it? Stockholme Sydrome? Whatever. It sounds so dumb, but even if we were kinda stuck... I don't think I would've survived back there if it wasn't for you."

He seems almost flustered. "I don't know if my head's shucked or what, but is it really that weird to have a little crush on a kind girl in a mask?"

"No," you let out a content sigh, more satisfied with his strange confession than you expected, "but maybe you should talk to someone about that."

He playfully kicks you, making you feign an injury. "Yanno, I'd be lying if I said I didn't start kinda liking you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah- which is probably bad because we had a very unbalanced power dynamic." He snorts at this, shaking his head.

"So, what now?"

"Well, what do you wanna do now?"

He shrugs, leaning forward and picking up another card. "I don't think I want to do anything. I think I need to understand you more, and process everything I've been through. Everything I've lost. I mean, there's no rush, right?"

"Yeah. There's no rush," you nod. "For the first time ever, we actually have time to wait."

"You're willing to wait for me?"

"'Course I am. I've got to help run this place and work out my own shit too. I've got enough going on to distract me from pining over you." You exaggerate your tone, making him roll his eyes. "Seriously, take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

○ ○ ○

"You reckon they'll be okay?" Thomas asks Vince as the pair watch the both of you from a distance. Thomas smiles faintly as he watches you flick sand at Minho over losing whatever game you're playing.

"Yeah," Vince replies, finally peacefully watching the closest thing he has to family enjoy herself. "Maybe not now, but that's fine- they have all the time in the world to be okay."

Oh my God, this took me forever. But, I've got no other requests at the moment so I figured go big or go home. Seriously, this was such a cool idea and I loved writing it. Pieces like these take literal days to write, so don't be expecting them too often, but I do love more complex and indepth stories.

Also, I am so down to do a part 2 to this if you guys want to see more of yours and Minho's relationship in the Safe Haven- maybe some more developing relationship stuff, or even some spice if that is want y'all want.

Anyway, I just know no one is gonna see all of this because it's just so LONG. Literally, this thing is so big my Tumblr is lagging. But still, I hope you enjoyed :))

[natlacentral]

The cast of Netflix’s adaptation of Avatar: The Last Airbender knows they can’t please everyone.

It’s a difficult life lesson that many of the show’s young actors have come to learn since they were chosen to star in a live-action reimagining of one of the most beloved animated series of all time.

Like any great saga, the latest iteration of Avatar has taken a circuitous route to the small screen. In 2020, two years after Netflix announced that it was developing a remake, original creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino departed the project over creative differences. A year later, former Nikita and Sleepy Hollow writer-producer Albert Kim officially assumed the role of creator and showrunner, intending to honor the Asian and Indigenous roots of his source material.

Since the debut of the new Avatar last Thursday, longtime fans have remained divided over the many changes that were made to turn a 20-episode half-hour children’s cartoon into an eight-episode serialized drama that has multigenerational appeal. But by maintaining the essence of the original while expanding the world that Konietzko and DiMartino have created, the new creative team is hoping to recapture some of the magic that transformed Avatar into a cultural phenomenon.

Every diehard fan can recite the basic premise by heart: The four nations — Water, Earth, Fire, Air — once lived in harmony, with the Avatar, master of all four elements, keeping the peace between them. But everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked and wiped out the Air Nomads. A century later, Aang (Gordon Cormier), a 12-year-old Air Nomad frozen in an iceberg, reawakens to take his rightful place as the next Avatar. With his newfound friends Katara (Kiawentiio) and Sokka (Ian Ousley), siblings and members of the Southern Water Tribe, Aang sets out on a quest to save the world from the onslaught of Fire Lord Ozai (Daniel Dae Kim) while avoiding being captured by Ozai’s tempestuous son, Crown Prince Zuko (Dallas Liu).

Almost every Zoomer who grew up watching Nickelodeon seems to have their own relationship with the original Avatar. Kiawentiio, whose older siblings would always have the show playing in their house, recalls being drawn to its depiction of a young Indigenous girl, at a time when there was scant representation of Native Americans. Ousley credits Avatar and Star Wars: The Clone Wars for inspiring him to take up martial arts. Liu has a vivid childhood memory of watching a restless Zuko and his tea-drinking uncle Iroh’s first scene together on a boat. Cormier, as the youngest of the bunch, admits that he had not watched the show prior to auditioning. But by the time he entered production, all he could do was live and breathe Avatar.

Daniel Dae Kim, who watched the original with one of his sons when it first aired, tells Teen Vogue that he held a kind of family meeting with his now-adult children and some of his nieces and nephews after receiving an offer from Albert Kim (no relation) to star in the new version. “I called all of them, and I said, ‘What do you think about me doing a part in Avatar?’ And they were like, ‘You should do it!’ without hesitation. Then I asked the next question: ‘Well, I’m playing Ozai. He’s a bad guy…’ They paused for a second, and then they all screamed, ‘You should still do it!’” he says with a laugh.

Once the cast was assembled, the creative team began the seemingly gargantuan task of trying to breathe new life into each of the characters. While the animated series dealt with weighty issues such as genocide, war and imperialism, there is an added human component in live-action storytelling that requires a more grounded approach to depicting real-life reactions and emotions. “We were all definitely allowed to look into the darker sides of each of our characters,” Cormier says. In Aang’s case, he is tasked with a responsibility that he doesn’t necessarily want but feels obligated to assume after discovering that he is the last living Airbender of his kind.

Aang is “naturally a really fun-loving, goofy 12-year-old, so to be hit with something so serious like a genocide [affecting] all of his people, it really affects him badly,” Cormier says. “We see in the first episode where I blow Katara and Sokka off the mountain how badly it’s affected me. It hurt me so much [that] I blasted into the Avatar state and started destroying my home. I think it just shows how serious and traumatic it is for Aang, but slowly, he’ll get through it and become the Avatar.”

The themes of loss and grief remain prevalent across all eight episodes, with each of the young characters being forced to confront their own unresolved trauma.

Katara is forced to reckon with how her memory of her mother’s death has affected her ability to become a full-fledged Waterbender. “Another thing that I feel like impacted her so much, without even really explicitly touching on it, is being the last Waterbender of her tribe,” Kiawentiio says. “She really feels so deeply connected with that part of [herself], even though it’s something that she can’t really access [at first], and she feels this sense of, ‘This is what I should be doing.’”

After his father left years ago on a mission to fight the Firebenders, Sokka was forced to grow up quickly and protect his tribe, especially his younger sister, from the waterbending abilities that had caused them so much pain. “Sokka is a perfect example of somebody that is not healed, is pushing stuff down and won’t let it come out, is putting on different masks to the point where he doesn’t even know who he is when we first find him,” says Ousley, who insisted on finding a way to bring out a more serious side in Sokka without losing his signature sarcasm in this adaptation. “I think the trauma that he has is covered up by humor often and covered up by acting silly, and he will have lots of moments where he actually discovers who he is.”

Zuko, however, may have the most compelling arc of the first season. Having been banished by Ozai from the Fire Nation, Zuko has effectively lost one father but gained another father figure in his Uncle Iroh (Paul Sun-Hyung Lee), who takes it upon himself to look after Zuko on his journey to capture the Avatar. In the first season, viewers see Zuko’s Agni Kai — or traditional Firebender duel — with Ozai, who was responsible for giving Zuko his prominent facial scar.

While Ozai “may not have the tools to do it the right way,” Kim understands that his character “is trying, in his own way, to shape his children into what he feels is necessary to secure the future of not only his family, but of the entire Fire Nation.” That kind of tough love, unfortunately, has done irreparable damage to his children.

In a dramatic departure from the original series, the writers decided to introduce Elizabeth Yu as Princess Azula earlier than in the original series. In doing so, the family dynamics between Ozai, Zuko and Azula become even more complicated. “Since Zuko’s away on his ship in the first season, you get a glimpse into, while he’s away, what is going on in the Fire Nation and who’s pulling all the strings,” Yu says. “For Azula, Zuko is very much more like a roadblock than anything else. You see that sense of family is not really there.”

“I think the writers did a good job of showing a rivalry between the two fighting for the father’s approval and attention without us directly interacting or speaking with each other,” Liu adds. “Zuko is just trying to prove he is worthy of his father’s love and attention just as much as Azula is. I think people will really come to root for Zuko because of everything that he’s been through.”

The production team was also keen to honor and recreate the costumes of the original series in a way that was not only beautiful but practical for the actors; Kiawentiio and Ousley had to wear heavy coats made of suede and fur, while Kim, Liu and Yu wore layers upon layers of corseted material with large shoulder pads.

“They really helped me complete the character because there was something about when I put on the wardrobe that made me walk [and] feel a certain way,” Kim says, “and it turned my character into someone more regal and powerful.”

It’s almost fitting that the most regal character is played by Hollywood royalty among Asian Americans. For the better part of the last three decades, Kim has been at the forefront of the movement to increase the visibility of Asian Americans in film and television. “The fact that I’m still working and able to see [the change] and be a part of it makes me feel very grateful, because success is not guaranteed to anyone in this business,” he reflects.

Kim believes the new Avatar is a reflection of today’s changing landscape in Western entertainment for more diverse stories that center Asian and Indigenous communities. “I don’t think it’s any secret to say that a live-action version has been done in the past, but it wasn’t done this way,” he says, referring to M. Night Shyamalan’s disastrous The Last Airbender film, which whitewashed many key characters. “I don’t think that it would have been done this way even five or 10 years ago because there wasn’t the same emphasis on proper representation and real diversity [that there is now].”

“I feel like we fought hard for the progress that we’ve made, and at the same time, I acknowledge that there need to be others outside of those of us in the community to push things forward,” he adds. “It takes a community working together along with allies.”

As the most accomplished actor of the group, did Kim have any advice for his younger castmates? “I don’t feel like it’s necessarily my place to be giving advice where it’s not needed or wanted, but it was nice of them to ask me about my experiences and how they could chart their own path forward in a business that’s very difficult,” Kim responds. “I can tell you that I really have been impressed by all of them, and I’m so excited to see the next generation of Asian American actors in particular come in with this attitude, with this opportunity. I would really love nothing more than to see them succeed beyond what we’ve seen in generations previous.”

The first season ends with Aang, Katara and Sokka successfully helping the Northern Water Tribe fend off a vicious attack from the Firebenders. Rather than following the advice of past Avatars, who stressed that he would have to bear the burden of his title alone, Aang realizes that he needs his friends to master all four elements.

“The Avatar still has to learn other elements, so we had to get the ball rolling on water and earth. If we did reach Season 2, I believe that we’ll find Aang already practicing water just because in the group he has quite the master to teach him,” Kiawentiio says with a smile, alluding to her own character.

But the last minutes of the finale also reveal that the attack on the North was actually a decoy for the Fire Nation. Ozai, as it turns out, had his sights on the Earth Kingdom — and his daughter, Azula, has taken over the Earth Kingdom city of Omashu with her own army. Aang’s old friend, King Bumi (Utkarsh Ambudkar), has now been taken prisoner.

“You have this idea of the prodigal son and you put all of your attention to someone who, in Ozai’s eyes, is failing him,” Kim says of the state of Ozai’s relationships with his two most powerful children at the end of the season. “So when there’s another child that you are not looking at in the same way that ends up surprising you, it’s a pleasant surprise, and it changes the way that you see the future. I think Azula was a surprise to him, and it brings him some joy, and he may have overlooked her in the past, but now he sees her as a real heir apparent.”

The revelation that his father has passed him over for his sister, at least for now, shakes up Zuko’s entire world, Liu says. “He feels a weird sense of betrayal because even though it is his sister and his father working against him, they are part of the Fire Nation, and his loyalty towards the Fire Nation was something that we know he was very persistent about, even though he was banished.”

Going forward, Kim would be interested in deepening the portrayal of Ozai’s relationships with his children, as well as his older brother, Iroh. “What is the relationship between the two of them when the second son supersedes the first? And how does Iroh feel about all of that? We never really see that explored,” he remarks. “I’d also like to see what happened to Zuko and Azula’s mom. These kinds of things are crucial to deepening the character, and I would love to see a little bit more of his history and how that informs who he is now.”

While the show has yet to be renewed for a second season, the young actors all have their own hopes for future seasons. Ousley would like to see Sokka “pick up the pieces” emotionally after the beautifully tragic end of his first love, Princess Yue (Amber Midthunder). Yu is ready to “do some of the really iconic Azula lines and scenes that we all know,” especially the Agni Kai in Season 3. Cormier is most excited to potentially adapt “Appa’s Lost Days” and the final fight scene between Aang and Ozai. “Throughout the show, I feel like he's going to learn more and more about why he has to be the Avatar,” he says.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: Last Place

37. ISRAEL Eden Golan - "Hurricane" 5th place

Decade Ranking: 150/153 [Above Noa Kirel, below Roxen]

Where do we start?

Let's begin, perhaps by stating the obvious. Israel's participation in this year ruined the contest. You encounter an entrant or two that completely warp the meta around them at every contest, but never to an extent this cataclysmic. Every sour note of this contest, and there were plenty, sprouted from the decision to allow Israel into the year. That was the tipping point. I believe that makes "Hurricane" the worst entry of all times in terms of the sheer negative impact its presence had on the edition it parttook in.

The ESC discourse -on asocial media- completely revolved around the conflict in Palestine either to denounce the war crimes perpetrated by the Israeli goverment and the subsequent silencing of critical voices calling it out, or to make a stand against the Poor Young Girl who was unfairly maligned by radicalized leftists for a conflict she had no hand in.

So was it any surprise that Israel won every Western televote? Be honest. I know that the Twitter manchildren claim Israel cheated, but they are in denial. The televote was genuine. The scalpel slices both ways, sadly. For every heckler booing Eden or protesting for Palestine or announcing a Eurovision boycot or lecturing the general public to not vote for Israel, a sympathy vote for her arises because "Aw She Doesn't Deserve So Much Negativity, Poor Thing". That she willingly chose to rep israel at THIS time with THAT song is blissfully ignored. Eden Golan is not a child. She's fully accountable for the effects that her participation caused, and is perfectly a-OK with it.

So, wake the fuck up. The sympathizing nutcases were OPENLY mobilizing to vote for Israel without even watching a second of the contest, to prove a point against you know, "insane leftist wokery" or whatever they call it. "You can't make me think what you want or do what you want, TAKE THAT". It's the same principle that led to Brexit and Trump beating Clinton. Similarly, they attempted to hijack the results like a particularly nasty species of asian hornet because their 'Freedom of Speech' is more important to them than fair results in an entertainment show, or a potential genocide. Or maybe they were just indoctrinated. A smaller sample size due to boycots + 20 votes per crazed zionist, it's honestly a miracle Croatia STILL beat them in the TV overall.

In other words, pretty much every opinion about Eden revolved around the politics that accompanied the flag she flew under.

And I'm sorry, but Eurovision is not supposed to be about Israel. Why should THAT country get more attention, or even preferential treatment in this otherwise excellent line-up? That's not what it should be about.

It is THEM who it should be about:

None of these artists asked to be a part of this shambolic display. So in that sense, let's do something many have FAILED. Let's do what we're supposed to dp: Discuss the SONG, outside of context.

Frankly, there's remarkably little to say. Even without the context, "Hurricane" would have been bottom of the barrel for me regardless? It's a mediocre sappy ballad aimed to Make People Cry. We see such ballads pop up all the time in NFs (most recently Krick in Luxembourg and Noble in Portugal), where -more often than not- their sucktitude catches up with them and manifests a loss.

I've seen people be outraged that Norway's jury gave it points but I mean, look at any recent scandi NF and tell me a Hurricane wouldn't fit within its ranks. It's Undo, What if, A Monster Like Me, all the tacky soulless ballads with poor narratives preying on the soft-hearted and the guillible with cheap emotional manip. "Hurricane"was cut from the same dementor-esque, sympathy-craving cloth. Call me old fashioned, but I was taught that sympathy requires a modicum of respect, which needs to be earned, not begged for like a dog's dinner. (I hope the Europapa fans are reading this because this also applies to him, and that ghastly outro). If your song was written with the idea in mind of pinkwashing the deaths of a few thousand children, then perhaps you may have not fully earned the benefit of the doubt, jussaying.~

In terms of performance, Eden was vocally good, at least. It's her voice that carries it although i don't find her particularly likeable as a lead. Then again, she is a Russian nepo brat whose family emigrated to Israel after the Ukrainian war so that her daddy to secure his financial assets and the Golans could continue their lavish, privileged lifestyle in a safer country. It was always a challenge, so to say, to consider Eden Golan a likeable individual.

Also what is UP with the choreography? Why do the dancers look like they are loading air rifles? A Choice, to say the least.

So all in all, a pretty weak entry that always would have been in my bottom 3 for any country, but that probably had a ceiling of lower top 10 in a normal, generic year of ESC.

However, this was NOT a generic ESC. There's NO imagining "Hurricane" without its context which makes it so, SO much worse. It was specifically written in support of the Israeli victims in the war (why go through that trouble and not simply withdraw and spend the participation fee on providing for the families of the hostages? Isn't that more effective charity? But hey, what do I know.) There is no "depoliticizing", no matter how often you retcon the lyrics into gibberish. Hurricane's intentions are present in its rhythm, its instrumentation, the keys in which it is sung. The notion that you can separate it from its context is absurd.

And yet, that is precisely what the EBU were hoping for when they allowed it in, and it exploded into their face like a firework. I can't say they didn't deserve it. Ultimately, the full blame for all of this rests with them. If a certain entity threatens the integrity of your being, you get rid of the threat. You don't passively sit back crossing your fingers they leave at their own volition. The Israeli's would understand the reasons for exclusion, surely, as they've been applying the exact same principles to the Gaza Strip since mid October.

The EBU allowed them in, officially to prove Eurovision wasn't political and United By Music (in reality because they're cowards and didn't want to be the first organization to ban Israel from an international event, and be branded antisemites as a result). The result was the most politically charged and divisive contest of all time, rife with incidents that were as avoidable as they were outrageous. It couldn't have been further away from "apolitical unity" if it tried.

Hurricane was NEVER worth the price of admission. All the controversy, the security risks, the boycots, the antisemitism and xenophobia, the censorship, the harrassment of other delegations (which the Israeli delegation EAGERLY participated in) and of course the Israeli embassies in participating countries OPENLY advocating to vote for Israel as "a signal". Even the tensions that led to Joost's dubious DQ which I doubt would have happened at any other contest. This could all have been foreseen and avoided by excluding the country that clearly would have brought the contest into disrepute. Eurovision is now on life support. Congratulations EBU. You KILLED your own contest.

It briefly looked like Israel could win (leave to RAI to be woefully incompetent and blasé), which would have been the final nail in Eurovision's coffin but then they magically lost the televote (thank you SO much Eastern Europe, you are SO real for this) and stranded themselves in 5th place. Instead of being the Worst Winner of All Time, Israel are merely a mediocre also-ran, which I can live with. It makes "Hurricane"' marginally less appalling than "Unicorn" and "I.M" for me. Let their fifth place serve as a grim reminder for future editions that Hatred Breeds Hatred, and also, thankfully, that Love Can indeed Prevail.

THE RANKING

[audreyscribes]

(Super long bc I kinda Info dumped sorry)

If you didn’t mind could you maybe talk about what demigods look like/cryptid demigod hcs

I’m probably wording this wrong but I saw a tiktok saying that kids of gods would have cryptid features for example children of hades or underworld gods in general having vampire features, children of sea gods having scales or webbed fingers, maybe children of Zeus or wind gods get feathers,children of Athena can do 360 head turns like owls, Hecate kids having a visible functioning third eye on their forehead that shows them spirits(and probably vampire features Hecate does do necromancy stuff), Hermes kids getting winged feet, children of Apollo having glowing eyes (I think this is somewhat canon) tbh the list goes on

It’s reasonable to think that demigods look somewhat uncanny they are literally half god and it would probably be covered by the mist to mortals anyways

Even if you don’t wanna do a full series on this I’m just curious to ur opinion on it and ideas you have for other gods

Alright, here’s my own take if we’re going off the Greek demigods having uncanny features:

Zeus: The children could have feathers but also considering them being like the air and clouds. Like their presence can be loud and forceful like high winds or practically invisible like the air around us, or how they seem to float as they walk, their feet never really touching the ground. However, when they get angry, their form shifts and they become this angry grey, stormy cloud, crackling lightning and thunder, their voice distorting like booming thunder as their presence whips around you and threatens to tear you apart. Their hands when they touch you spark and electrocute you, and you can smell and taste the ozone around them. They look down at you with eyes like an eagle.

Poseidon: I would wager they have a sleek appearance to them and everything seems okay. So maybe when they smile, you see some unnervingly sharp teeth like a shark. However, when they enter the water, your eyes can't tell if the water is distorting their shape, but you swear you see something else that makes you remember that we know more about space, then our own ocean; making you both amazed and afraid at what the abyss contain…or don't allow you to see because they won't let you resurface at all.

Hecate: While a third eye is cool, that’s more of an Asian mythological feature (I.e. Hindu, Buddhism, Taoism), however, I can see them having three faces that they can change according to that face’s personality, or true to Hecate’s mythos, where Hecate changes forms from a young girl to an oldy lady according to the time of day, their children faces/personality changes according to the time of day. In a moment of peak battle or power, all three faces appear all at once. The Vampiric features also work as well in this case, but you could also go with something ghoulish or ghostly. From the distance, their appearance to you is half invisible like a rolling mist. Another trait that a child of Hecate could have is serpentine qualities, relating them to Lamia, who has a connection with the goddess. So imagine a child of Hecate with skins with the scales of a snake, a forked tongue, and limbs that move too fluidly in a way that makes you think they don’t have normal human bones. 

Hades: we already see references to it with Nico, but the ghostly, pale appearance would be made more true. Representing the domain of death, they would have cold skin, their eyes are dark like shadows, Or part of the Riches of his domain, you'll see how their eyes twinkle like jewels gold or their teeth, nails shimmer like diamonds. They seem alive to you but if you watch them carefully, you notice their skins shimmer as if their see-through or  made out of precious gems, but then you realise, you really haven't seen them breath. Not in the way of the living. Their chests don't move unconscious and almost seem forced, like they have to remember to move their chests up and down. In fact you've seen them stand way too still, with chests freezing yet they're still moving.

Athena: I think her kids not only can turn their necks pretty much around like an owl, but have you considered they really have good hearing, and moving practically invisible? There's a reason why owls are considered the silent hunters/death. Their grey eyes looking wide and bright at you, but as you move, you notice their eyes following you as if you're a mouse moving among a field. Their heads and neck tilting just so that makes your own neck feel severed.

Demeter: Ever heard the metaphor “Hair like corn”? Each child of demeter has qualities that reflect nature, crops, or anything to do with plant life. When they laugh, it either sounds like branches brushing against each other from the wind or the sound of wood creaking and cracking as the bark and flesh of the wood breaking. Or when you see a child of Demeter fight during the wars and you see their blood or flesh fly. When it lands on the ground, you watch as it sprouts into another version of themselves like fungi; you realise if the child of Demeter you've been talking to is the original or just another body of them with the same mind and soul?

Aphrodite: We know Aphrodite's appearance will reflect what the person's ideal version of beauty or who they love is reflected off her. Now imagine her kids having the same thing, their faces resembling everyone's love, preference, their ideal features (button nose, thin lips), but when you come to actually describing their entire face, you suddenly can't. You have an idea of their features but they're in fragments. You try to piece them together and form their face but you can't. You can't remember their faces at all. You start to think you don't know their face at all, you never have, and they're just a mirage in your mind. You don't remember their faces because you can't. You've never seen them, have you?

Ares: Out of them all, they seem the most human-like. War and violence is a part of human nature and it's reflected in them. They hold qualities that make you sweat and stiffen, the way they look at you makes you want to either fight or flight. A side of humanity you don't want to admit that is in our nature and life.   

Dionysus: There's a quality to them that seems a bit off to you, but you can't help getting drawn in. Their eyes are maniacal and don't stare in the eyes too long or you find your mind drifting off. Or how they move like a jaguar, their appearance alluring but very deadly as they stalk towards you. Nonetheless, your eyes will deceive you as you try to look at them, their forms not exactly what they seem to be and if you try to dissect what they look like, you’re not going to like what you see.

Hermes: Their feet may have wings that allow them to fly and go about speeds. However, much like the Aphrodite children, you see the faces of a traveller. They've been to places and seen things you haven't seen before, but when you try to think of their faces, you can't remember. They made an impression on you yes, but when you try to remember their features, you can't really remember and they are only a figment in your memory.  Yet you can’t forget them or their sweet, honey layered and silver tongued words, even if you know its a lie, you find yourself believing in them and take their words as the truth.

Hephaestus: The children of Hephaestus’ eyes burn and glow with hot coals, flaming hot. Their features are almost sculpted like marble statues, both soft yet rigid. Their veins underneath their skin have a thin glow of heat like the veins of a volcano as they bend the physical shape of something in something else. A limb of theirs moves rather rigidly, like it was a limp but as it moves, you are reminded of the joint of a machine, moving in a certain way that isn’t like a muscle. When their skin is reflecting the heat of the forge, you are reminded that their skin looks like stone or metal.

Apollo: We already know about the glowing eyes part, but I wanna say there’s a bit more to that. How light follows them, how they embody it. You can see them but you can’t stare directly at them for too long before your eyes start to burn like staring directly into a lightbulb. Their form seems to shimmer and bend with the light, before you realise you may not be able to touch them more than you can touch the sunlight. Then you also start to realise the shadows around them seem more darker, more of a void then you thought it could be, moving, swirling beneath their feet. As you take notice of the shadows behind them, how it seems to wrap around them like a second skin, the shadow then moves on its own, differently from it’s host, as it raises its finger over where the mouth should be, before you see it actually smile. You may not be able to touch the light and shadows, but it can certainly touch you, prying your darkest truths and secrets from your own shadow betraying you. You learn that the children of Apollo don’t naturally have shadows because they’re made out of light, so where is their darkness?

Going off a bit more of the whole concept though: It’s not the first time nor the last time someone who has those kinds of ideas as humans do. The only reason the Greek and Roman demigods have ‘human’ features is because of how the gods are perceived, where in Ancient Greek people believed the Gods looked like regular mortals, but were absolutely perfect in their appearance as they were above mortals and their features reflect peak perfection of our human appearance, and we cannot perceive their true form because it is outside of our mortal realm. I believe that’s why the gods turning into their true form is deadly to mortals for that reason. 

So the greek/roman demigods would have the godly qualities to them, that are still mortal but just a little bit different, a little out of this world. We actually see Rick Riodan reference these features in the book like Percy’s Sea Green eyes or Thalia and Jason’s Electric Blue eyes. Those weren’t metaphors or similes. They just lean more towards beyond human then cryptid realm. 

However, it wouldn’t be unusual to attach some non-human features to the gods as we constantly attach their symbols to them. Specifically the animal parts relating to the gods, it’s one of the reasons Egyptian gods are depicted with animal features; as the animal parts to represent their personalities or specific traits that were important to their purpose. For example, Anubis the God of Death is depicted with the head of a jackal as the animal was associated with death in ancient Egypt. So if these Egyptians gods had demigods, we can only assume they would have these features too. 

I believe in the Riordan verse, there are the Mayan gods and the Mayan demigods, Godborns, are the opposite of their Greek/Roman counterparts where the Godborns have a sort of physical handicap, disability, or some medical or mental issue. This is   because people believed the blood of humans and the supernaturals were never meant to be mixed.

So go have one with your ideas! Be wild! Test the realm between mortals and the supernatural.