#its so fun to learn language through fandom i wish it would go the opposite direction too since english is basically fandoms lingua franca

[hingabee]

i think everyone who speaks a language beside english (whether theyre esl or not) should write a fanfic in that language (or more, if you know more!) fandoms need more language diversity and its incredibly fun to read non-english fics, even if you have to use a translator or dictionary to help you at times! its a good tool to expand your vocabulary and understanding and i just think its neat

[fizzyxcustard]

Under The Mistletoe.

Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Richard Armitage)

Summary: This is an amalgamation of an imagine and Christmas special idea rolled into one. My original imagine was "Imagine Richard admitting he loves you but you are adamant he’s joking and he winds up blowing up at you through your stubbornness and accusing him of being a liar." This was then requested by an anonymous reader for it to be turned into fic. So, when Richard finally has you under the mistletoe, do you believe that he truly loves you? 

Pairings: Richard Armitage x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, language

Word count: 1414

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to my tag lists for a particular fandom, character, or even everything, please send me an ask or a private message and I will add you. MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE! ;) Like always, this may just turn into a two-parter, which in this case I’ll probably write for New Year. 

Music listened to whilst writing this: Two Steps From Hell personal playlist on iTunes. 

Masterlist of fan fiction here

You stepped back into your flat, shutting all the cold air out, and you walked into the warmth and comfort. The day at work had been long, exhausting and at that point all you wanted to do was get into your pyjamas, make a mug of steaming hot chocolate and watch cheesy Christmas films. The very thought that you now had a week off for the holiday made you smile to yourself, and you had gotten through the festive work meal relatively unscathed. It had taken place at a local Chinese restaurant, and the majority of your co-workers had departed from the venue intoxicated, meaning that you had been designated taxi driver for three of them. The smell of vomit was still lingering from your back seat. Anthony, the one whose undigested meal had coated your car upholstery, had offered you money for a full valet, but you declined, not wanting to embarrass him further.

All of the drama from the last week was now over. The high demand in work, office gossip, employee secrets you had been asked to keep, and you could shut it all out.

Suddenly you remembered that Richard was due to come over. Your best friend of the last two years, a handsome actor who had come into your life by pure chance. How could you have forgotten that he was visiting? The headache of the day had caused you to tune out the one thing that made you happy: Richard. When life became overwhelming, and you found it hard to walk through all the stress and struggles, he was there. A comfort. An anchor. Your source of strength.

“Oh, shit!” you cursed, checking your clock. He would be due in ten minutes and you hadn’t even vacuumed, prepared any food or washed any of your dishes and utensils. You dashed around the flat, spraying air freshener in the areas that required it, and then lit a festive candle that smelled of apple and cinnamon. As for food, what on earth would you cook? You’d forgot to call into the local supermarket on your way home.

The door knocked.

You took a deep inhale, checked yourself over in the mirror and then walked to the front door. Behind the frosted glass you could see his outline and it brought a smile to your face.

Richard looked at you as you opened the door and grinned. Immediately he embraced you. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you replied sheepishly. “Come in,” you ushered.

He looked around the flat, smiling at your love of Christmas. The living room had a large tree in one corner, covered in gold and red tinsel, with twinkling lights shining through the branches. A candle arch was perched in your front window, stockings were hanging on your wall, toy snowmen and reindeers were positioned either side of your gas fire. A thought hit him: he wanted to have been able to decorate with you. He imagined you both laughing, twisting tinsel around each other and singing along to festive songs and wearing Christmas jumpers.

“How have you been?” Richard asked, sitting down on your sofa. You sat down in the accompanying armchair opposite.

“Work has been so busy and I forgot you were coming, so I didn’t get any food from the supermarket on my way home. I’m really sorry,” you said, rubbing your temples for emphasis. “It’s not much of an excuse, I know.”

“Sweet, it’s absolutely fine. I know your job can be stressful. Do you want to go out somewhere?”

“Yeah, if you want,” you replied, faking enthusiasm.

“I can tell you don’t want to,” Richard said with a smirk. “You’ve had a long day. I won’t stay too long.”

“No, please. I’m sorry,” you said again, feeling ashamed and guilty. “Stay as long as you want to. You can stay the night if you want to as you’ve come a long way to see me.”

A couple of minutes later and you moved into the kitchen to make drinks for yourself and Richard. You had agreed to drive to the supermarket shortly afterwards and pick up some food. You would be eating late, but you both had plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company.

By now and your mood was starting to pick up; both of you shared in chit chat about your week. Richard wrinkled his nose and laughed at the story of your colleague spewing up in your car. “Oh, it’s gets even better,” you giggled. “The other two I dropped off, Mark and Julie, are having an affair so I dropped them both off at Mark’s house and Julie’s husband later found out about it. My work is full of constant drama, seriously. Affairs, back stabbing, stealing. There’s always something going on. I keep myself out of it all. It’s like the saying in Madagascar, ‘smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.’”

“It’s the best thing you can do. Don’t comment so no one can pull you into their rubbish,” Richard replied.

You never noticed Richard messing with something in his pocket. He was smirking as he pinned the item in your kitchen doorway. Proud of himself, Richard turned back to you, thankful that you hadn’t seen what he was doing. “What’s this?” he asked, drawing your attention away from what you were doing.

“Mmm?” you replied, shifting to stand beside him in the doorway. He was pointing upwards. Your gaze turned up to see a small sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wooden doorway.

Before being able to comprehend what was happening, Richard’s lips were against yours. The kiss was soft, delicate and gradually heat began to seep into it, drawing your bodies together. Richard’s arms curled around you, pulling you gently against his larger frame. He tasted and smelled divine. Aftershave wafted up your nose, and you couldn’t help but grab his shift and pull. Your movements were becoming more passionate as your hands delved into more intimate places such as backsides and breasts. A huge stab of doubt shot through you, like a rod of ice. You pulled away.

Both of you were breathing hard.

Richard watched in surprise as you backed away, and he noticed the question in your eyes.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m…in love with you.”

A wave of excitement crashed through your stomach, but it was soon taken over by that doubt once more. “You’re joking,” you replied. “This is just one huge joke.”

“Why the fuck would I joke about something like this?” Richard snapped; he could see the defensive nature of your stance and expression. His face contorted in anger and offence at your accusations of dishonesty.

“You don’t love me so don’t try and fool me into believing it,” you said again. Years of insecurity and mockery had caused you to build a mental and emotional dam in attempts to block out all the negativity and potential threats. And in that process, your trust had withered. There was barely any trust left inside you; everyone’s motives must be questioned because more than likely they were not in your best interests.

Richard’s eyes grew wide and he leaned towards you, his teeth bared. “Don’t you daretell me I do and don’t feel,” he growled. “I’ve been there for you every time you’ve needed someone; when everyone else has let you down, you’ve come to me. So, why the fuck would I choose to make a mockery of you?”

“You’re the same as everyone else,” you spat. “You try and gain my trust and then walk away…”

“Oh, grow the fuck up!” Richard shouted. “Not everyone out there wants to hurt you. Least of all, me. We’ve confided in each other, helped each other, but now as soon as I try and look to showing my true feelings, you close down on me. You need to learn how to stop treating people like they’re your enemy.”

Every word that Richard was speaking was true. You could not dispute the facts. He was correct. But that constant fear of rejection and mockery was chewing its way out of your gut.

“You won’t believe me, will you?” he asked.

“No,” you replied, a tear falling down your cheek.

In a flash, Richard was gone. Your front door slammed and he left you standing motionless, staring up at the mistletoe whilst tears streamed down your cheeks.

                                                         ***

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl​ @mynameisnoneya1991 @blankdblank @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @msjava1972 @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp @adaliamalfoy @spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl @here2have-fun​ @greendragonette @thorinsraven @thophil2941btw @princessoferebor94​ @banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @gabrieleaquaman @rachel1959 @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged @tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @tschrist1​ @inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator​ @princessofthefandomrealm @letsbeinspiredby @lilith15000 @lealina-scarsdale​ @scarsfanfictiontrash @mechromancing-cinnamon-roll @ra-of-light @jassy2101​ @durinsqueen @hariclea @onewithleaf @michelem703 @bthtallmadge2 @mariannetora​ @valuedabovehoardedgold @tiredwritersworld @xxbyimm @miabee0706 @fuck-off-you-stupid-goat @legolaslovely @meganlpie​ @dashesofink @buckysalefty @reignofglitter​

Richard Armitage tag list: @inkededucatednnerdy​ @birdkeeperklink​ @crazytxgradstudent​

[amandaoftherosemire]

A Lost Hour

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff X Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,807

Format: One-shot

Warning: Language, fluff, implied smut

Summary: On a mission alone with Natasha Romanoff, you try to keep from annoying her as you hide how much you adore her.

A/N: Written for @buckysforeverprincess’ Hop Into Spring 3K Challenge. Congratulations on 3000, darling!! You’re amazing and you deserve all the love and adoration! My prompt was “Don’t forget daylight savings.” Writing reader inserts is like exercising my brain (second person is not second nature, that’s for damn sure) because I like to make them as neutral as I can. Except, since I’m female, I tend to write from that perspective, which means that all of my reader inserts have been fem!reader. This time, I wanted to stretch my brain in a new direction, so I wrote as neutral as possible, including gender. Please feel free to let me know what you think, including ways I failed. I’m always trying to do better and learn more, so I’m absolutely open to criticism.

A Lost Hour

Natasha watched you out of her peripheral vision from across the motel room. You were standing at the other queen bed unpacking, laying out everything you’d need for the mission the next day, your movements brisk, economical, and lethally efficient for all you were humming what sounded like ‘Hollaback Girl’. Nat appreciated that when it came to the work, you were a silent, stone-cold professional. She would put you at her back any day of the week, her highest compliment.

That said, when you weren’t actively on a mission, you never seemed to stop making noise. If you weren’t talking, and somehow you never ran out of things to talk about, you were humming, singing, muttering, laughing, or just making weird noises with your mouth. If she was the sort who gave in to such things, you could have her literally climbing the walls like the spider for which she was named.

To be fair, it wasn’t that the noises were in reality all that irritating. No one else seemed to notice, for instance. If she was being honest, she wouldn't classify the sounds you made as irritating at all, really. What drove her crazy was that they made it impossible for Natasha to ignore you, though she'd never had that problem before.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on what made you so compelling to her. It wasn’t your looks, though she thought you incredibly attractive. That would never have been enough to capture her attention on its own, however. She’d used her own for both good and evil often enough to know how little beauty truly counted. The fair of face couldn’t catch her eye.

Though she most often pretended to ignore you, sometimes she put on that she found you annoying in order to insist that you be quiet. As a matter of fact, she found your voice, the sounds you made, too appealing. She had to concentrate to tune you out, her ear seeming to naturally tune itself to the timbre of your voice.

She also found your little rants funny, though she groaned as loudly as anyone when you started in on one. You had any number of random little pet peeves and there was no way to know when someone might inadvertently step into one in the course of normal conversation. When you got going, however, was when she found it most difficult to resist the urge to kiss that chattering mouth. Lately, it had only gotten worse.

Because though she could see that you found her physically attractive, she was almost certain you didn't really like her. She was painfully attuned to the tone of your voice and could hear it was often a touch colder when you spoke to her than when you spoke to any other member of the team. You were warm and pleasant with everyone, so it wasn't as though you were mean or rude even then; only Natasha would ever notice the difference.

She refused to let it bother her, but it made it easy to pretend she didn't like you right back.

Once she'd finished the double-check that she had what she needed for the mission in the morning, she repacked everything as it had gone in except for her night clothes and her toiletries bag. You had long since moved on to flipping through the channels, your preparations for the mission less meticulous than hers, though you were hardly sloppy or haphazard. You were still humming under your breath, but you were unusually quiet and she was having a hard time placing the melody.

You were watching Natasha out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep the humming to a minimum. You knew it drove her crazy and you were trying not to irritate her on this mission. You'd been half in love with her almost since you met her. You hated that you annoyed her, but you also couldn't change who you were, so you tried to stay as quiet as possible when she was around.

You'd hotly anticipated and deeply dreaded this mission. Any time you spent with Natasha was nerve-wracking, but an overnight mission, just the two of you sharing a motel room seemed like a recipe for disaster. Disaster for you, at least. You doubted Natasha would even notice you unless you irritated her by talking or humming too much, or if you fucked up your part of the plan.

You, on the other hand, were going to spend the next 24 hours on pins and needles, trying not to give away how absolutely magnificent you thought she was. Sometimes you went too far in the opposite direction, but it was better than her knowing you spent most of your time in her presence internally sighing dreamily

Obviously, she was beautiful. You had eyes; you could see she was gorgeous. You were no more immune to her appeal than the next person. That said, it was her strength that you found most captivating. In addition, you respected her competence and efficiency and you had a nice healthy fear of her lethality. You weren't frightened of her, but like a razor-sharp blade, you didn't take her bite lightly. Her capacity for loyalty had surprised you, but only until you got to know her. Her humor charmed you, made you wish you didn't annoy her because you found her hilarious.

Of all the things about her that made you wish you could at least be friends, however, it was the sweetness laying close to her bones. She hid it well but, where she cared, she was kind and deeply loving in her own quiet way. On more than one occasion, you'd had to start ranting about something stupid to cover for the puppy-dog-eyes you'd been giving her.

When she settled onto her bed with her tablet and a bottle of water, you spoke softly. "Do you want to pick?" you asked as you offered her the remote. "If you leave it up to me, I'll end up watching the crokinole championships on ESPN Twelve like a lunatic."

Natasha frowned a little and lifted puzzled eyes to yours. "What in the world is crokinole?"

You laughed and flipped back to the channel airing the niche game's championship. "Fuck if I know," you replied and settled back against the pillows with a grin, "but in about twenty minutes I bet I'm going to have a whole lot of opinions on technique and strategy."

A half an hour later, both you and Natasha were watching the classic dexterity game with rapt attention, discussing the ongoing bracket as though you'd been following the game for years. You'd looked up the rules on your phone, not that you really needed to. The point of the game was absolutely clear once you'd watched for even just a few minutes, but the Wikipedia page clarified some scoring questions the two of you had.

"Oops, he left a hanger," you were saying as Natasha's phone rang, Steve's number lighting up the screen. You snickered when you saw the picture she'd used for him; it was some promotional shot from the 40s when he was being used to sell war bonds and he had the dumbest cheesy grin on his face.

You loved that she teased Steve in this way, taking potshots at the public persona, the piece of propaganda rather than the private man or the real symbolism of the shield. Steve was one of those she cared about; you always enjoyed watching their dynamic at play.

“If he can pick up the twenty and knock the other guy’s puck into the gutter, I think he’s won it,” she replied as she swiped the screen. She’d gotten as into the game as you had, the two of you finally bonding a little. She didn't notice because she was answering the phone, but you were caught in full-blown puppy-dog-eyes mode.

You sat in silence, watching her smirk at Steve and assure him that she had things well in hand while you grinned at her like exactly what you were, a moron with a desperate crush.

“You’re on speaker if you’ve got anything to tell us both,” Natasha turned to focus on you as she hit the button on the screen. Her eyes met yours, warm and full of fun, then rounded ever so slightly in surprise at the lovesick smile on your face. For the first time, she wasn’t seeing any coolness or reserve in your eyes and she wanted it to never stop. She smiled timidly back at you.

“Just stay safe, watch each other’s backs, and don’t forget about daylight savings.” Steve’s voice snapped you out of it, made you aware you were being stupidly obvious in the way you were staring at Natasha. The smile on her face was almost shy and sweet and was making your heart gallop like a thoroughbred. You latched on to the last thing Steve said like a lifeline.

“Ugh! I hate daylight savings!” You fell backward onto the bed with a groan of annoyance, partly to be dramatic, but mostly to stop looking at Natasha. “Especially Spring forward. You know the whole thing’s pointless, right? It doesn’t even do what it’s supposed to, and some think it’s actively detrimental. But no, we keep doing it because we’re stup—"

“I’m on it, Cap,” Natasha cut you off with a good-natured chuckle as she got up to sit next to you on your bed. She patted your knee affectionately as she finished the phone call and hung up. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched her, nervous but oddly excited.

Natasha had never been this friendly before.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” she said quietly. This evening with you, learning the intricacies of a game neither of you had heard of before, had seduced her in ways she’d never thought to expect, let alone guard against. The uncomplicated adoration she’d seen on your face as you looked at her gave her the confidence to speak bluntly.

“No!" you cried, distressed that you'd made her think so when you thought so highly of her. You gave her a sheepish smile and ducked your head. "I know I can be annoying,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “I don’t want to irritate you by scampering after you.”

Her mouth curved and her eyelids lowered in an expression both earthy and ethereal. Your heart skipped and you knew you were in way over your head. “You’re not irritating or annoying,” she said. When doubt flickered across your face, she felt a pang of remorse. “You’re distracting,” she murmured.

“Distracting?" You frowned a little, not sure if that was a compliment or not. "Is that good or bad?” you asked, a little breathless. The look on her face was making your heart race.

“Well," she said softly, and leaned in ever so slightly. You were painfully aware of every movement she made, and your breath caught in response. "That depends." You had seen her flirt for work; this was nothing like that. Her eyes were direct, her body language straightforward, and you would swear that she was trying to be as honest as she could.

"On?" you prompted and sat up. You and she were face to face now, but neither of you moved, though you were both practically holding your breath in anticipation.

The corner of her mouth lifted in the slightest of smiles, your eyes following the movement with meticulous care as you waited for her next words with a heart pounding in desperate hope. "On if I'm trying to ignore you," she replied, her smile spreading and her eyes turning surprisingly shy. "I tend to ignore that which I don't think I can have. Or whom."

Her eyes seemed to sear into yours, the dreamy green going sharp as jade. You shifted forward a fraction of an inch, your hand twitching towards hers before you stopped it, terrified to overstep and fuck up this exhilarating conversation. "And I don't know how to shut up, especially when I'm nervous."

Natasha wasn't smiling now, but you had absolutely no idea what she was thinking, her expression inscrutable. "I make you nervous?"

You gave a quick, disbelieving laugh. "Have you met you?" You didn't know why, because she hadn't moved, but you started to feel like she was leaning away from you. You kept talking, because you were terrified you were fucking this up, and you always talked too much when freaked out. "Between your strength and skill, oof, and your mind, you'd be the most intimidating woman on the planet. Add in the humor on top of everything else and you're spectacular. I'm astonished whenever I manage not to babble."

By the time you managed to shut yourself up, she was smiling again. You didn't know it, but she had thought you were going to start yammering on about her physical appearance and nothing was more likely to make her dismiss someone as not worth her time. Marks underestimated her because of her looks; she didn't waste her real self on marks. Instead, you were charming her with your chattering about how intimidating you found her, not her face. "So, you're telling me I don't need to ignore you."

"Not if you don't want to," you said, making her smile wider with your earnestness. You went on, shy yourself this time. "And if you don't mind if I babble."

Wasn't this a pleasant surprise? she thought. The discovery that you found her as appealing as she found you was the best thing she'd learned in a while. She decided to live a little and tell you the whole truth. "When you babble, it makes me want to kiss you."

Your eyes popped open and your mouth spread in a wide smile. You didn't know what had led to your good fortune, but you weren't going to question it. You licked your lips and your heart kicked when her eyes followed the movement. "Even when I babble about something stupid, like daylight savings?" you asked, audibly breathless.

She smirked a little. This time it was she who eased forward a little, causing you to sway toward her without thinking. She was close enough now that you could see the flecks of gold in her eyes and her mouth was close enough that you imagined you could feel her breath on your skin. That tempting mouth curved in amusement. "Especially when you babble about something stupid like daylight savings.”

"People think it's for farmers," you immediately launched into anything you could remember about why daylight savings sucks and is stupid, but you were barely thinking about the words coming out of your mouth, "but that doesn't make sense in a modern era with electric ligh--"

Natasha laughed, which had you slowing down, delighted to make her laugh out loud for the first time. She'd tell you later that she laughed internally at the things you said all the time. For now, you were simply enthralled at the sound of her laugh when you inspired it.

You didn't stop talking, however, until she took your face in her hands and stopped your words with a soft, almost tentative kiss. Slowly, gently, you slid your arms around her, pulling her close as she melted against you. She slid her arms around you in turn, enchanted by the soft generosity she found in your mouth, in your arms.

A long time later, she pulled away reluctantly, only to sink back in with a chuckle at the misty-eyed look of awed adoration you gave her. Silent and smiling, you'd been struck speechless and so opted to let her have her way, happy to follow where she led.

The next morning at 5:00 AM, according to the phone buzzing next to the bed, and 4:00 AM according to your body, Natasha leaned across you to turn off the alarm. When it was quiet in the impersonal dark of the motel room once more, she snuggled back down under the covers, her arm sliding around your waist as she rested her head on your shoulder. You smiled at the ceiling, delighted by the sunset cloud currently tickling your nose.

"You're right. I hate daylight savings," she murmured.

"See!" you whispered hotly as you cuddled close, delirious at the feel of her satin skin sliding against yours and incensed that you were going to have to give it up soon. "If not for daylight savings I’d get to spend another hour in bed with you. It's fucking stupid." That was as far as you got before Nat was rising over you in the dark to press her mouth against yours again.

For the first time in either of your careers, you nearly missed a mission because of daylight savings.

The End

Permanent Taglist:

@hellzzzbelle @suz-123 @buckysforeverprincess @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @rishlo @diinofayce @bibliophile1773 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @miraclesoflove @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @destiel-is--endgame @irritated-bisexual

[dat-town]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 13

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: i guess a lot of depressive thoughts summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 4k tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

Death.

Such a simple, trivial and lifeless word. And yet, it could bring empires to their knees. Finality had always scared human kind because it was something they couldn’t control, something out of their supervision. People managed to conquer nature, fight against wild animals, they could have diminished entire continents with the snap of their fingers but nobody had won over death before. Egyptian pharaohs had already intended to grant a fruitful afterlife to themselves as they built those huge monuments for themselves, piling gold over gold but it wasn’t a unique trait. Humans tended to wish to control as much as they could regarding their mortality: depending on their religion and beliefs they either wanted to ensure their afterlife or make sure to leave their trace on Earth. Nobody really wished to disappear without anything left behind. Be that fame, the knowledge or the love somebody held for them. But wasn’t loving the cruellest and most painful things to do after all? Because loving meant baring yourself to the possibility of losing something precious, something that leaves you hollow afterwards.

Jungkook remembered when he had encountered death for the first time. It had been almost fifteen years ago, near the hospital bed of his grandmother and he still felt his heart racing uncomfortable whenever he had smelled that typical clinic scent or saw those machines and canullas attached to people. He hated hospitals, he was sick just to the mentions of them, he felt like throwing up only by seeing the hospital bills pile up on his mother’s desk. The treatment had cost way too much for a mere secretary but in her desperate need, she hadn’t cared. But there she had been after: jobless and grieving with three children to feed and a huge debt weighing down on her shoulder. In his worst moments, Jungkook had often called his mother out on being so irresponsible to get them into this spiral downwards from which there was no way out because blaming her had been the easiest when things had been hard on him. He couldn’t have played around or had fun like kids his age. He had been working since he was fourteen, so he could contribute to the family budget. His mother had done everything she could to provide them what they needed but from such a small pay it wasn’t easy at all. Little Jungkook had been bullied for being poor, so growing up Jungkook swore he would have never let anyone look down on him once again. He had spent his afternoons in his middle school’s library to learn programming by himself and he had studied hard to get into a university because he had known how much information technicians earned with the right degrees. But now, he kind of wished he hadn’t been so ambitious, then this guilt wouldn’t have been eating him up like this.

Because death had never been the hardest on the deceased but on those who were left behind.

Yerim had lost a lot already despite being only eighteen. She had cried over dead pets, lost friendships, heartbreaks and now, she had lost her brother as well. Seeing another candidate die right in front of her eyes thanks to the artificial city’s ruthlessness seemed like nothing after that. It was almost as if she had become numb to process that. All she knew that it was not a game nor coincidence. They were going to die there in that terrifyingly beautiful town with a technology smarter than mankind. So once the hallucation fog cleared, she shakily pulled away from Jungkook’s shielding embrace and took a step back. She averted her eyes, so she wouldn’t see the hurt expression on the boy’s face. Because in that moment, it might have been him who needed support.

“Are we really safe here?” Yerim asked with trembling lips, turning towards the other two. Seulgi stood just behind the IT guy who quickly took a seat behind one of the dozens buzzing computers in the room and tried to hack himself into it just like he had done it in the hospital. This one had better security system, so he knew it was going to take a while.

“As safe as we can be. This is the last zone but we still need to stop the simulation or what the hell this is,” the guy murmured as his fingers ran as fast as lightning over the keyboard. Yerim understood nothing of the words written in white over the screen of black. At first look, they looked like English but despite her good language skills, she didn’t get any of it. But Yoongi seemed to know what he was doing and that made her feel hopeful. They had gotten here after all. At what price though?

“Jungkook, can you check the cables of those servers? We need to know the physical network connections as well because if there’s a hub, it might–”

“Be enough to shut it down,” the engineer boy finished his sentence right away, understanding what he intended to do and he got to work, walking behind those black boxes with tiny bright dots.

Just standing there, Yerim suddenly felt as useless as ever. Maybe Taehyung had been right: what was a journalist doing there in the first place? She couldn’t even help the others. She only survived so far thanks to others’ sacrifice. It would have been much better if Seokjin stayed alive instead of her. He could have helped. Like he always had done.

She was surprised when a gentle hand touched her shoulder and she looked up at the always doe-eyed Seulgi dumbfounded, not knowing what to do or what to say to the other girl. They had never talked before, at least not really if they didn’t count the time in the hospital when she had found her alone. Seulgi looked like a deer caught in headlights then but now there was something else in her eyes something akin to determination, a fire that couldn’t have been easily put out. It might have been fueled by desperation or anger, maybe both.

“You’re studying journalism, right?” The architecture girl asked her quietly and there was no mocking in her voice like it had been the case with the annoying Marketing guy. So Yerim didn’t felt ashamed of herself because of her major.

“I do, but… why does it matter?” she crooked a brow at the weird kind of question in such situation but it started to make sense as Seulgi kept going.

“If we get out… or at least you do, you should make sure that everybody knows about what happened here because we can’t let it happen again,” she shook her head and nibbling her lower lips she looked very confident in her statement. Opposite of how hopeful and uncertain that little if sounded, the rest was different. It was a side of Seulgi none of them had seemed before. She was like a girl who had had enough of letting others die around her and Yerim could resonate to that sentiment. It was the least they could have done, trying to save other innocent souls. So she didn’t even hesitate before she nodded firmly.

“Okay,” she murmured, hands in fists, already ready to post about it online, watching it go viral while penning dozens journals until one of them published their story. Their rival-like teammates who had all come for the same goal deserved at least that much. Hoseok’s girlfriend also deserved to know that he had missed her the most, or the Kim parents should have known that their son had saved them all with his sacrifice. People should have learnt not to trust a machine unconditionally because whether it be an error in the system or somebody’s doing in the back, an AI felt no remorse and knew no loyalty.

“Fuck,” Yoongi cursed suddenly and both girls turned their heads towards the IT guy sitting behind the computer screen. But the screen looked different this time, there were not only code lines there but lots of decrypted data as well.

“What? What did you find?” Yerim rushed to his side analysing what she saw from up-close. There were numbers and something that looked like a task manager on the black screen. It didn’t mean anything to her though, so she looked at Yoongi for help.

“I know why the city was killing us all. This is not a hacked simulation program,” he shook his head, lips almost bloodily chapped from the way he bit into them while breaking through the security system. His pupils were wide and scared, this was the first time the youngest member of this freaking experiment had ever seen him like this, so her throat closed up when he opened his mouth to elaborate. “The AI, the heart of this freaking city, is on its way to self-destruction.”

Yerim sucked in a breath understanding every word but not being able to process their meaning. Yoongi pointed to the progress bar on the screen saying how much time they had and above it, there was a list of all the sectors within Choego and the cursor flickering next to the number 24.

SECTOR 22 SHUT DOWN

SECTOR 23 SHUT DOWN

SECTOR 24 QUEUED

Execution 92% – 32 minutes left until total shut down

All three of them stared at the computer fearing the numbers would change because countdown was once again their lifeline, too.

“Self-destruction? But… why? The researchers wouldn’t have… they all died too, so who did it?” Seulgi spoke up, confused, voicing out all of their concerns.

Nobody knew how it happened and it was easy to make themselves believe it was just an error. Something had gone wrong and the security of Choego had started to act off. But this was different, this was something they couldn’t blame on the artificial intelligence only. A computer didn’t have free will, so there was somebody behind it. Somebody who wanted none of them to survive the night. If his plan worked out, all of them would have died about 18 hours before when the whole chaos had erupted. If Yerim had slept throughout the night, would have anyone noticed their approaching end? Maybe she had saved them then but only for a short while. But could it have been called such a righteous act even if they had ended up dying all sort of terrible deaths in the end instead of not waking up from their beds?

“It could have been only done from the inside. From this exact room to be precise because the program only let me in through IP address identification,” Yoongi explained which made the girls gulp in nervousness. That could have only meant one thing, they both knew: it could have only been an employee, one with permission to enter here.

“But everyone whom we met seemed so enthusiastic about Choego. Even if it was a revenge of some sort, why would anyone use such a brutal method?” Yerim gasped but none of them had an answer for that. There was no explanation to human savageness.

“I found it!” Jungkook hollered all of a sudden from behind the rack of computers, so they all three looked his way. “There’s only one connector to all, so I will–”

“Stop! Don’t touch it!” Yoongi yelled in panicked voice as if that single flick could have killed them all. But what couldn’t here for real?

Jungkook walked out from the cover of the shelves and stared at the other guy confused. Yoongi understood the sentiment because his earlier request could have been misleading. He didn’t want to force the computers to shut down just like that, at least not yet.

“Why?”

“Is it because of what happened when Namjoon managed to break into the researchers’ base? That the countdown quickened?” Seulgi asked in a small voice, uncertain as her caramel eyes were looking from one guy to another. The younger firmly shook his head to her question.

“But that was because the alarm system itself noticed the malfunction. But this is the main computer for god’s sake. Everything will shut down, that freaking killing program as well,” he argued and slight anger and hopelessness were mirrored in his eyes as he looked dead in Yoongi’s eyes.

“That’s right. Everything. That means no heating, no electricity, no water, nothing here if we’re lucky. But if we are not, then maybe those invisible killing walls around the sectors stay or there could be a backup generator somewhere that takes the place of the main computer. And knowing this freaking city, there must be not one but more, like the Internet: it’s a network where any hub can replace the other if done right.”

“Then why the hell did I need to check it if you had no plan on yanking it out of the wall?” the younger boy huffed out, disappointed but finally understanding why it would have been a risky decision to cut the electricity just in here. The backup must have been kept elsewhere and they would have never made it there in time.

“Because if my idea doesn’t work out, we need to leave our fate in the hands of goodwill and luck,” the IT specialist said dryly and as if on cue, two new lines appeared on the computer screen. Lines that contained their death sentence.

SECTOR 24 IN PROGRESS

Execution 94% – 24 minutes left until total shut down

Yoongi didn’t believe in life after death. He was a man of analytical thinking, therefore there was no heaven and hell according to him. It they were, Choego would have been hell for sure. He didn’t condemn those whose religion taught about Heaven or Valhalla, at least they had something to believe in, something that was waiting for them. Whether it really existed or not, in the moment of the end, it didn’t matter. But Yoongi didn’t fear death because he believed it would be the inevitable death from which there was no way back. He feared dying without being able to say goodbye or to kiss his mother’s cheek and tell her he loved her.

But in this moment, it was now or never. They were on their own, nobody could have helped them. Even the main computer was separated from Korea’s 3G and 4G networks, he couldn’t connect to any, so if they failed, they would have left without being able to tell anyone. Without anyone knowing about the struggles they had gone through in order to survive. People just over the other side of that bridge and all around the world had no idea what was going on with them: they had dinners usually, went to work like they always did and maybe not even their loved ones were worried because it hadn’t even passed a day since they last contacted them. And that, their death going unnoticed scared Yoongi the most.

“I found a hidden file. It has randomly serialized names changing every other second, so I almost missed it but it seems to be a key,” he spoke up as he typed something on a different computer than the one with the countdown.

“A key to what?” Seulgi whispered, voice strained with desperate hopefulness.

“To stop this program,” Yoongi answered as he hit Enter.

The computer beeped, then small dots appeared on the black background. Sixteen dots and then suddenly a text:

Face recognition done

“Hello, Min Yoongi, it has been a while. What can I help you with?” the lovely woman voice greeted him through the speakers and her too sweet, too artificial voice sent shivers down all of their spines. Oh, of course their last chat was stored in the central memory, Yoongi thought to himself while the others exchanged glances, not quite getting the friendly chit-chat.

“Hello,” the IT guy greeted the computer back coldly and went straight to the point. There was no use being sentimental with a software. “I want to stop the currently running program. How can I do that?”

“There are currently 486 programs running. Which one did you mean? Do you need me listing them all?” The AI’s nice voice echoed in the whole room, rebounding from all that metal and it even suppressed the constant low buzzing sound. 

“No, I… I’m talking about the program that shuts down the sectors one by one.”

There was a pause, a deafening silence while the computer searched through its task manager to find the one. They were all waiting with their breaths held back.

“Do you mean Code Zero? It has been running for 1059 minutes, only 21 minutes left. Are you sure you want to stop it?”

“Yes!” Yoongi almost screamed at her, the words Code Zero tasting like metal in his mouth. So that was it. That was the source of it, the reason for this chaos. However, it wasn’t as easy to get rid of as he had thought so. Gosh, he was so naive to think, finding it was the hardest part.

“Permission denied,” the computer recited and he felt like a sulky child protesting:

“But I have the key.”

“Do you have the password?”

“Fuck,” he slapped on the desk frustrated that made the girls jump in surprise.

“Incorrect password. Please try again,” the voice told him ever so lovely, so he gave it another weak try:

“Choego.”

“Incorrect password. Please try again. You have three more tries.”

Oh, damn, so they even had a limit? The guy sucked in a breath, suddenly not knowing how to get that freaking password in time or how to get it right within three tries.

“Is there a way to retrieve the password?” Jungkook interrupted the conversation, even though he didn’t sit across a camera, the computer could tell the question didn’t come from Yoongi.

Voice recognition done

“Hello, Jeon Jungkook.” The AI greeted him as well and out of all the things that had happened to them, it was the least bizzare one. “Yes. You have to answer a question.”

“Why didn’t you say so before?” Yoongi let out a frustrated sigh and the robotic answer felt like a slap.

“Because you didn’t ask.”

Of course. A computer only does what it’s told.

“What’s the question we need to answer?” He asked then forcing himself not to get impatient even with the counter going down to 17 minutes since.

“You sit in a car. You are driving. You go with normal speed. Suddenly Person A runs onto the street right in front of you. Person A crosses the street with no pedestrian crossing and it’s too late to stop and avoid the crash. If you slow down as much as you could, Person A’s survival odds are 30%, your survival odds are 97%. If you turn towards the opposite lane, another car might come, so Person A’s survival odds are 80%, your survival odds are 50% depending on the type of cars involved. If you turn towards the sidewalk, you might hit another person and run into a wall. Person A’s survival odds are 70%, Person B’s survival odds are 35%, your survival odds are 70%. Would you hit the jaywalker?”

Once the robotic voice stopped, silence embraced the four of them. It sounded like a riddle. So their answer would have been the actual key? Yoongi looked up and exchange glances with the others. They all shook their heads, it was an unanimous decision.

“No,” he said out loud, heart throbbing in his throat as they were waiting for the system’s next step.

“I see. And taken you sit in a smart car that chooses to hit the jaywalker, would you feel guilty as if it was your own fault? Even if a truck crosses the other lane and a child runs on the sidewalk?”

“Yes, I would feel guilty,” Yoongi replied without hesitation.

The end does not justify the means, he believed.

“Here’s your answer, Min Yoongi.” The AI told him almost as if she was saying goodbye and the screen on the other monitor changed as well.

Execution 97% – 12 minutes left until total shut down

Command reset in progress. This might take a few minutes.

SECTOR 24 ON HOLD

Execution calculating…

A collective sigh was torn from the mere university students’ throats equally. The computer buzzing got stronger with each second but this time, Yoongi had a good hunch about it.

“And now?” Yerim spoke up, voice small and unsure. There was only one thing they could have done.

“Now we wait.”

Seulgi’s legs gave out in relief. She sank down to the floor, knees stretched from earlier but even the pain felt reassuring this time. They were going to live. They were going to get out. She felt it in her veins. It was finally the end of this manslaughter. She sat there, quiet, while Jungkook monitored the screen and Yerim scribbled something onto a piece of paper. She was trembling, sitting on the cold metal but didn’t even notice it up until Yoongi lowered himself down next to her. He stared ahead of himself, still breathing heavily and from the way his fingers twitched, Seulgi could tell how big of a pressure the boy faced. He saved them, he saved everyone he could and suddenly she wanted to tell him, to thank him, to take his hands and tell him that it was alright. But she didn’t find the right words and she couldn’t move. It was Yoongi who first broke the silence.

“What did you see?” he whispered and he didn’t need to elaborate, Seulgi knew immediately what he meant by it. She still remembered his whispered words of reassurance and gentle hands on her skin as he had brought her back to reality. Even sitting with shoulder to shoulder, suddenly she missed his closeness. 

“My mother… telling me I could have saved them,” she croaked out in a broken voice. She should have but Namjoon might as well have been right about it, that she had been the one who led them into death. Even her silence had caused the end of some. So in a way she wasn’t better than the killing machine. However, the biggest difference was that she had regretted it, she was able to feel guilt. A program didn’t.

“Mine told me I am cruel,” Yoongi whispered and even though Seulgi didn’t agree with him being cruel, the boy didn’t seem like wanting to explain, so she didn’t ask him to. They all had their own little secrets. Their own cross to carry.

The lights flickered above them and the buzzing quieted down. A big red lettered message appeared on each screen in the room.

Self-destruction mode deactivated. You have 60 minutes to reboot the <CODE ZERO> command before the archives are deleted. Section borders are turning off. You are now set to normal mode.

It seemed too good to be true. But hadn’t they suffered enough to finally earn this?

“Is it… done? That was it?” Yerim asked almost as if she didn't dare to believe in it. After facing so many trials it was hard to. None of them had it in them to answer, to be the responsible for others to take the leap of faith. Not until Jungkook pointed at the again changing screen.

“I think so. Look! The zones are not shut down anymore.”

SECTOR 24 WORKING

SECTOR 23 WORKING

SECTOR 22 STARTING...

Seulgi felt tears pricking her eyes, tears of something akin to relief and joy but also sadness and the guilt of survivors.

She stumbled to her feet, heart hammering in her chest, ready to leave this Hell of island lied to be the Paradise behind just like a songbird anticipating to leave its cage. Her breath hitched when calloused fingers curled around her wrist so softly. She looked up at Yoongi and followed him without hesitation. Each of them did.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

And so they did but that was the thing about death: nobody could leave the guilt and grief behind entirely. It stayed; just like one could never get rid of the blood on their hands. This was the price to pay for the illusion of freedom. But whether it was a mere mirage or not, passing through sector after sector, Seulgi couldn’t help but wonder whether it was really the city that kept them there for so long.

Or was it something more?