#never worked anyway cause i only had an english keyboard
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when i was like 8 there was this stupid really low quality cat game i would go on every day to roleplay weird shit. i cant find it for the life of me. i miss it
#when i think back a lot of the roleplays i was in were not. super appropriate#i didnt understand most of what happened most of the time. i just wanted to talk to people#sometimes id stay up too late and russian players would start joining#i remember trying to look up what different russian words meant and try to talk to them even though i couldnt translate what they were sayin#never worked anyway cause i only had an english keyboard#whatever#ignore this its dumb#voice
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Whatever It Takes (CH-2)
Dear Damian, Normally I would write a letter in Arabic, but I thought since you're gonna live here, you might as well get used to the language. I know this was abrupt to you. But this is the first opening me and Mother could get. Sorry, Mother and I could get. English grammar rules are so wonky.
Both Bruce and Damian let out a soft laugh.
Anyway, back to the point. I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna say, “You did the same thing I'm doing right now. I can handle it.” And I'm not denying that, Damian. Just that you shouldn't have to do this. Shouldn't have to fight. You shouldn't have to kill. You shouldn't have to always watch behind your back. It's not right. And just the fact that it happened to me does not make it right for you. Here at Father’s you'll be able to learn new things. Enjoy life. Make friends. Meet your other siblings and our Father.
Please give them a chance. You don't know if you like something if you never try it. Stay safe. And be happy. Don't think this is goodbye, I will come visit. Mother and I love you. With all we have.
Your sister And the bane of your existence, Mariam.
Thankfully, Damien was too tired after the day's proceedings and went down for sleep without much fuss. After making sure he was comfortable in the guest bedroom, Bruce went back down to the Cave where the DNA showed 92% completed. Seeing him, Tim, Dick and Alfred came and gathered around.
“Well, Master Bruce?”
“He is sleeping for now. The kid had a dagger, but I left it with him because he looked too–”
“Vulnerable.” Tim said.
“Yeah, that.” Bruce said, giving them a tired smile. “I was thinkin–”
The batcomputer chimed. As all of them whipped around they saw displayed on the screen in bold letters. Almost mocking them-
Test #27
Subject: Damian Al-Ghul Wayne
Biological matches: Bruce Thomas Wayne (Parental) Talia Al-Ghul (Parental) Ra’s Al-Ghul (Grand Parental) Test subject #28 (Complete Fraternal)
“Well damn” Dick said. “I suppose it was to be expected, honestly.”
Bruce sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it is pointless to open up the second test result.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Tim said, clacking on the keyboard. “Here we go.” with his words, the screen changed.
Test #28
Subject: Mariam
Biological matches: Bruce Thomas Wayne (Parental) Talia Al-Ghul (Parental) Ra’s Al-Ghul (Grand Parental) Damian Al-Ghul Wayne (Complete Fraternal)
“I didn't enter her complete name because she never really said it out loud, but do you want me to, like, input it in as Al-Ghul Wayne?” Tim asked, spinning around on the batchair.
“Yeah.” Bruce said. Turning to Alfred, he continued, “What do I do, Alfred?”
“Though it may take some time, Master Bruce, I believe a solution will present itself. Worrying about when will only cause additional stress. I suggest you focus on Master Damian. You do have a lot of years to make up for.”
“I don't even know how old the kid is!” Bruce groaned. “I’ll turn In for the night. I'll deal with this tomorrow morning.”
“Excellent idea, Master Bruce. After all, a good rest makes our minds work better. Don't they Master Tim?”
“Wha-What?” Tim asked, his eyes still glued to the screen pulling up Talia's file.
“Come on, Tim.” Dick said. He was slowly putting all the bat computer screens on Sleep Mode. “You already know all that there is to know about her.”
“Yeah, yeah. I'm looking through Justice League files, you know, in case someone updated something.”
“Come on, Tim.” Bruce said, making use of his ‘dad voice’ as put by Dick. “The files will still all be here in the morning. It's time you got some rest.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just a minute.” Tim said, his eyes scanning the screen.
“Nope.” Dick said as he picked him up. “Going to burrito wrap you in a blanket so you can't sneak into the Cave.”
“Nooooooo” Tim said dramatically as Dick put him over his shoulder and walked off.
Bruce waited until their steps receded before again turning to Alfred. “Do you think I'm ready for this?”
“Master Bruce, In quite a lot of cases, you have not been ready for something yet. You took it on beautifully. Some mistakes did happen, but, your imperfection is a part of you. I believe you'll know what to do with Damian and how to do it. You both are more similar than you think.”
#maribat#miraculous lb#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#alfred pennyworth#miraculous ladybug#miraculous fanworks#hellishere7980#damian and marinette#marinette dupain cheng
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As we're coming to the end of January (Finally) and it's a new year, figured start doing writing round ups again. It's been very cold for a chunk of December and all this month meaning the joy of swollen fingers, being forced to stop due to being chilled and the usual flare ups which aren't art friendly. Stuck writing only or not, much prefer it over last January where I was in a helluva lot of pain for a chunk of it.
So what have I been up to? Well one thing I've wanted to do for literal years is go back to several fics/oneshots that were written pre it being pointed out I had a bad run on sentence habit and fixing it. In the process I've been sorting out any typos (Surprisingly rare), repetitive wording, one case of time not being consistent, double spacing caused by keyboard errors, clearer paragraphing and generally improving flow where things are reading a bit janky. Last year I finished the two Fashionista oneshots and this month I've managed to clean up:
Along came a word - A writing meme collection
Savouring Memories
Currently at the time of typing this I'm on page 10 / 26 of Stars. This is the third attempt to scrub the thing and furthest I've gotten as it's got a lot more to fix than anything else I've touched so far. Did you know past me never bothered to put the Trollish translations IN THE FILE? That one particularly is driving me nuts. The last part I fixed up was:
Rest of the end of day tasks are thankfully light thanks to both the morning blitz and the bits and pieces in between leaving the seemingly endless amount of rubbish collecting (That one always annoys him) and sink clearing. After giving himself a smidge longer of rest, he cracks on because such a precious space deserves to be treated with the utmost respect even if the clientele didn't always carry the same curtsey. Not like a broom or a sponge was that unusual in his hands anyway, no matter how old he got it seemed the old chores of Camelot followed closely behind like a spectre. Ten minutes is pretty good going considering how bad it can be…
Also had to fight a weird bug which kept defaulting spelling to US English until I just removed it entirely. After chapter 1 is complete gonna be moving on to Heart of Glass as per the poll. Just want to finish chapter 1 first because it was originally written in a week, shows and was always the biggest one I wanted to go back and sort.
Currently the Shame Chart is looking like this:
Please note: These thoughts of you is not included on the above due to being an already posted oneshot but will be scrubbed as well.
This is everything I have kicking around somewhere including some that don't even have a title yet. I want this to be a year of finishing things and I def want to be on with clearing some things out post scrubbing. Stars third chapter has had 10 pages this entire time, Ghost!AU two, then there's the oneshots and things in my asks... Likely will poll what people are most interested in closer to the time. Still want to do something with those Not!Enrique test pages.
Anyways that's where we're at right now. Really hoping the temps pick up though I'm fed up of having to exist in endless layers and gloves while fighting my system's need to hibernate. Today having an angry elbow at typing is a new one though only taken one day off writing entirely this month so that's fair honestly. While doing this I'm attacking my reading backlog so if I suddenly appear on an older work of yours, that's why.
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From this moment on I go into busy mode again, but I didn't want to leave without wishing all my mutuals and all simblrs in general a very Happy New Year 2024 and dedicate some words I have been meaning to say to you but hadn't found the time or the appropriate way to do it.
I'll start by saying to all of you who had a hard time in 2023, those who went through depression, physical and/or mental health problems, family problems, marital problems, work problems, problems with your children, with your partners, with your parents or grandparents. To all those who in some way suffered or were hurt in the year that is ending -and assuming that all of us here, or most of us, are storytellers-, my advice is: don't stop writing, ever. Keep doing it through it all, through the good times as well as the bad; write even if the tears well up in your eyes and fall on the keyboard. Just write!
Writing heals, cures and consoles, because it is what we do and because there is no better way to get out all that we carry inside, be it sad or happy. I went through the long night of depression myself and I can say with all certainty that writing was what pulled me through, and that although it may not seem so, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and it's never as dark as when it's about to dawn. I suffered from depression since 2006 and for many years; around that time I started a novel that took me 14 years to write. Through all that time, I slowly healed, and by the time I finished, I was free of all the demons that drove me to write that particular story in the first place.
Okay, enough of me, I want to tell my mutuals, that I love what you write/create, and I really enjoy your work, be it stories or gameplay; and not only those who write, but also those who make custom content, mods, those who create any kind of art, those who take beautiful pictures, those who share memes or funny things about their pets. All of you, know that I read you every day and I take you with me everywhere I go, because you are so talented, creative, funny and interesting.
I don't always have the courage to comment on your posts, be it about sims or personal, for different reasons, mainly because of language barriers, because as you know, English is not my native language, and sometimes I don't have my translator at hand to confirm that what I am writing is correct, or if there is a spelling or grammar mistake or a typo in there; also because of my social awkwardness, as I am a rather shy and introverted person; and the fact that I'm an old simmer, cause believe me, compared to many of you I am old, and this makes me afraid of saying something out of place, out of time, or of being politically incorrect. This may sound silly, but I was born and raised in a time where people thought and acted very differently, even in my early years of sims on the internet, everything was way different than it is now. Well, those are the reasons why I don't always comment, but the fact is that I read you, I like what you do, what you write, I'm in love with your characters -who are already part of my sim-universe-; your stories capture my imagination, intrigue me, interest me, amuse me and, above all, teach me, because I've learned a lot from you, talented creatures, in the time I've been reading your work.
Anyway, I got off my chest what I've been wanting to tell you for days now. I also want to thank you for all your likes, comments, questions, messages, and in general for all the love I received from you this year, it's amazing. I never expected so much in just one year, really. So, thank you, both to those who have been following me for a long time, and have stayed with me and my chaotic stories, and to the new followers, Sims 3 and Sims 4, I thank you all.
Well, this was already very long, sorry for the rambling, lol, I wish each and every one of you a very Happy New Year, may all your dreams and plans become a beautiful reality in the year that begins, because, believe me, some dreams do come true, I had the joy of confirming it right at the end of this year.
That's all, a big hug and a very, very happy 2024 everyone! 🤗❤️🎇
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Hello friends! So glad you found me! XD, it makes me so happy!😸
(I used a translator throughout this article🙏)
Regarding how to call me, you can call me whatever you want!
Gender pronouns: Anything is fine, just follow your ideas!
Understand and respect each other, although there is no truly accurate understanding and respect in this world... Just do your best, don't be too strict on yourself!
In short, I am an amateur painting enthusiast, not a professional in art, and my painting skills are not very good, but I like to try various media to paint!
I usually create my OC and some fan works of my favorite works or games! !
I'm not very good at expressing myself, and I often use swear words and colloquialisms, incomprehensible jokes, and topics like tobacco and alcohol. I'm sorry. If you feel uncomfortable, you can block me!
I have some mental problems, this will sometimes cause my words to be illogical, and my poor English may cause misunderstandings... But I will try my best to adjust the sentences translated by the translator and the expressions of my native language(简体中文/繁體中文)!
I am a person who talks a lot of nonsense! But it is easy to make typos when excited...
! OK, please pay attention!
I never self-harm, like cutting myself with a knife! I also don’t feel like I need preferential treatment just because I have a mental problem and I’m receiving formal treatment.
! ! I have never had a drug addiction or a history of taking drugs, I only smoke legal cigarettes and drink legal liquor! !I am an adult, and I strongly discourage letting others smoke and drink excessively (especially children who are underage, don’t do this!)
Anyway, normal communication is ok! ❤️
Don't worry, I have a good temper! But it's best not to mess with me, really.
There may be some here (note that it may appear, not necessarily, but please pay attention to those who feel uncomfortable, please)
❗️❗️↓↓↓❗️❗️
NSFW (there may be, generally I will not post it or draw it. Come out)/For the character’s gender change/Cute girl painting style/frightening and unsettling(such as monsters, uncanny valley effect, spiritual curiosity, many dense holes, etc.)
There’s bound to be: lots of plasma! /Character is seriously injured/Character is animalized (not Furry!)/Character is anthropomorphized/My thoughts and daily complaints/About the portrayal of tobacco and alcohol in works and realistic speech/Bad sentences translated by the translator
Although I have a strong acceptance of sexual fetishes, I do have my limits......😑
Please note that these make me feel uncomfortable
Molestation/rape of young children
Bring crimes from the virtual world to reality and implement them. (Really heartless)
Plagiarism and controversial works
! ! ! quarrel! ! ! I don't like to quarrel!
Badly behaved cliques (please remind me if there are any!)
ky (this abbreviation originates from Japanese)
Dislike very much:
1. Some people who send me photos of self-harm. I respect you guys but I have ptsd about it and I've met some terrible people and they've affected me to this day... I don't like flashbacks. Please also don’t follow me or harass me, thank you.🙏🙏🙏
2. Constantly asking me to do something or paint something/coercing or even threatening me to do something I don’t want to do!
3. You can dislike me and my works, you can block me, or you can point out my shortcomings or mistakes and tell me, but please don't be sarcastic or make personal attacks on me! This makes no sense at all!
4. Political related (I am looking for works I like in the virtual world rather than engaging in keyboard battles. I know what is happening in this world, which is difficult to evaluate. I hope you can understand, and hope everything is fine...😔🙏)
5. Racists (Get out of my sight immediately! At least you are not welcome here!)
6. I cannot take care of everyone's personal feelings, nor can I meet everyone's requirements and expectations. I am just an ordinary human being.
7. Maliciously attack and ridicule those who are suffering pain and suffering
! If you feel uncomfortable after reading this nonsense, please block me immediately, thank you!
Alright! In short, whatever I look like in your eyes, that's what I look like. I cannot become what others like for various reasons... You can like or hate me (including my works). It's all ok, I don't mind blocking me when you really hate me! It doesn’t matter, it’s human nature!
Anyway, it's nice to meet you!🌹🥺����❤️🔥
Other words may be added slowly in the future!
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Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina
length ✦ 5573
genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.
Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.
Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.
“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.
“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”
Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.
Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.
“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.
“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.
“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.
“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”
In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.
Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.
Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.
Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.
Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.
Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.
You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.
A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.
“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.
The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.
Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.
It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.
Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?
“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.
“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”
“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”
“What are you gonna do, copy me?”
“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.
“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”
“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”
Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.
“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.
“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.
“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”
Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.
In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.
Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.
“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”
“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”
You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”
“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”
“I see.”
Work flies by, unusually.
“Hey, can I get a chicken-”
“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”
Clear your throat. “Parm.”
The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”
Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.
“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.
“Thanks.”
Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.
“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”
“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.
“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”
“Very much so, yes,” you say.
Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.
“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.
A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.
Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.
Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.
"I love you."
ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.
You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?
“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”
Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.
“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”
It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.
“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”
“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”
“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.
“Oh, you like what you see?”
“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”
“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.
“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.
“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”
“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”
“Then do it.”
Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.
Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.
Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.
“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.
“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.
You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”
Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.
“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”
“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”
“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”
“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”
“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.
“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”
“Fuck you.”
Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts.
“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.
A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.
“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”
You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”
Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.
“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.
"Not yet."
“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”
“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.
“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”
“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.
“One two-”
“Be quiet.”
But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.
The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.
Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.
“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.
“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.
Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.
“You want my promise that bad?” you say.
“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”
She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.
“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.
“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”
Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.
“Was I good?” Karina asks.
Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.
“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.
You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.
The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.
“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.
As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.
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You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]
Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends? Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.
This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done.
So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right?
After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly.
Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly.
He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button.
“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”
“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls.
“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”
It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal.
He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.
A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all. “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?”
You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?”
He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips.
“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!”
A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?”
He pouted. “Aw...”
“You damn sadist.”
“Hehe.”
“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended.
He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”
“Unfortunate.”
“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.”
You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.”
The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy?
“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate.
“... And blonde hair.”
“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?
You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second.
“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick.
“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.”
Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.”
You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock.
“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).”
He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?”
“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?”
Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.”
“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded.
Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?”
While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.
“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention.
Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his.
“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.
“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself.
“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo.
“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.”
The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”
“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage.
But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.
“Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered.
You were cute.
Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it.
“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”
Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying.
“That’s what I thought.”
Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~”
His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could.
Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild.
Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath. “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing.
“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”
Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up.
“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.”
“Hey, no fair!”
By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit.
But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived.
The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him.
Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you.
Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to.
“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.”
Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.”
“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.”
He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?”
“Mm... Ten.”
“Fuck me.”
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up.
“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.”
“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?”
He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later.
“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.”
“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.”
Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.”
Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.
Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?”
A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.
It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little.
Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash.
“Wha--?”
He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality.
“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!”
“How about no?”
“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.”
“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.”
You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--”
But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing.
“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he?
When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze.
Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right?
All he needed to do was to ask you out.
But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand.
When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!”
But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.
If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would.
As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down.
It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way.
You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well?
The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.
Play this while you read
youtube
Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time
And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach
His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement.
Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance
And no one even knew it was really only you
While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking.
Nice work, you did.
You’re gonna go far, kid!
Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck.
You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers.
When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity.
“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up.
“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care.
“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”
The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.”
It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer.
“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”
He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?”
“Stealing kisses now, are we?”
“Touché.”
Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction.
Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be.
This is a request. Thank you for requesting.
#hetalia fanfiction#hetalia#aph#aph england#england x reader#aph england x reader#arthur kirkland#request#oneshot#hetalia x reader#Axis Powers Hetalia#Axis powers ヘタリア#alfredosauce50#hetalia fanfic#ivan braginsky#aph russia#aph russia x reader#reader insert#x reader
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a little 2doc ficlet i was thinking about and decided to write, i have left tumblr and this blog for a while but this is something i came up with?? my first time writting in english since its not my first language
anywas HBD ya filthy old man
Cold. He always feels cold.
He tries to warm his hands, but he never can, and only assumes that he is trapped with this cold all his life.
"Do you ever regret it? Selling your soul I mean".
He had forgotten that 2D was by his side, somehow 2D... Stuart was always there.
Murdoc thinks about what the singer has just said, but his whole life has been a lot of horrible situations and after selling his soul... well.
He has his band, he has Noodle, who is like a daughter to him
He never imagined himself as a family man, but he had that weakness for her.
Russel! Russel was more like his father, since Noodle was little, Russel had taken more care of her than he had.
But she turned out to be... more like him.
Just like him.
What a role model he was.
And then there was 2D, dents, faceache, "D", Stu.
Stuart
He takes a long drag on his cigarette.
"No".
He finally responds after thinking about it for a long time, and realizes that his cigarette had been consumed, he clicks his tongue.
2D approaches him and Murdoc has to look up to see the expression on the keyboard player's face.
"You can have mine."
He says and goes closer to give him the cigarette, the blue-haired man has a smile on his face and Murdoc remembers how 2D is always at his disposal, he watches the boy ... no. The middle-aged man he sees in front of him, and for once in his life, really reads the expression on his companion's face.
And he doesn't like it.
But… he takes the offered object anyway.
"Got a light? left mine inside the house" he asks, raising the cigar to his lips.
"Sure"
2D takes the lighter out of his jacket bag, and as soon as he reaches for his hand to light the cigarette that is now between the bassist's lips, he feels the difference in temperatures between his hands when they have contact due to the proximity.
"Murdoc, you're freezing," he says as he lights the cigarette. "Why don't we go in with the others?"
After the cigarette is lit, Murdoc quietly mutters a "thank you" so slowly that he has 2D thinking about if he had imagined it, but as soon as he listens to the younger’s suggestion, his expression changes and after taking another drag he responds.
"No, no. I'm fine here. You go if you want" Murdoc pats him on the shoulder, but 2D is a stubborn son of...
"Come on, there must still be pizza in the fridge..." 2D persuades, grabbing his wrist and walking towards the entrance of the house, and at that the bass player tries to get away.
"Oi, no!" He makes a sharp pull that gets the singer to release him, but then he does not know if the pull or 2D's face hurts more when he turns to see him.
"Ok Mudz," says the boy, Murdoc will never stop seeing him as such, he realizes. As if they were still in old Kong. "I'll go".
2D stays until he nods, and turns to go inside the warm interior of the house.
Murdoc should be with them, he would like to but ... he still hasn't allowed himself to forget what he'd done to them.
He thinks about 2D's question before.
"Do you ever regret it?"
All the time.
He stays outside, in the cold, that he thinks is a representation of his whole being, since he was a child he has been cold, Sebastian never took good care of them, they had a house, yes, but this fell from dirt and debris, they had no food, the money was spent by his father on drugs and alcohol and Murdoc could not even protect himself from the cold that always entered through the window of his room.
And he realizes that he has become like his dad.
The front door opens and the sound frightens him a bit, loud noises always remind him of the old Niccals home despite all these years, causing Murdoc to drop the cigarette in the snow and it instantly goes out.
“Russel told me that if you were going to be here outside the path of a jacket, but all the ones you have in your room are made of leather and I don't think they are very good at working against the cold Murdoc…”
2D begins to ramble on and Murdoc no longer hears what he's saying why he suddenly feels warm, and not just because of the jacket the singer puts on his shoulders and smells like butter sugar candy.
“... so you can have mine”.
Unconsciously he smells 2D’s scent that now surrounds him, completely changing his, which he had inadvertently tried to replicate from his father.
2D fixes the jacket and smiles when Murdoc decides to put it on precisely.
“Shut up”.
2D's smile widens.
“I didn’t say anything”
Murdoc is surprised when 2D helps him to raise the zipper and looks at the singer, who now is watching him too, but he has to bow his head to do it and despite the calm face of the minor, Murdoc feels anger.
He doesn't like them to see from a higher place than him.
And 2D was that, taller, more handsome, his voice sounded like an angel's, talented, but he was stupid as shit.
Yes, and whose fault is it?
He feels his hands that had been at his side being taken, and 2D rubs them with his own, completely changing his line of thought.
"You're still cold," he says, and Murdoc doesn't process what Stuart wants to do and stops him when he brings his hands together to his mouth to blow warm breath against them.
Murdoc jerks them away, but 2D holds them tight against his so that Murdoc won't do something like... hit him.
"W-what the hell ...?!
“Murdoc …”
2D still doesn't let go of his hands and Murdoc gets tired of fighting, he's old now, too old.
And he's tired, tired of not enjoying himself and always running away from the things that make him feel good.
Of the things that make him feel loved.
2D's hands release his and Murdoc misses the contact immediately.
“How can you be so tender with me when I …”
“I do not know.”
He doesn't know? He doesn’t know?!
“I don't know why I put up with you” although his tone is calm, Murdoc knows that he's half joking half telling the truth.
Murdoc thinks that the minor has reconsidered and thought about how all these years he has made his life impossible, why he is insane, Murdoc is obsessed with him.
Stuart can no longer see Murdoc's face, since at his confession the older man has lowered his head, avoiding his gaze.
He looks ... vulnerable.
Like every night, when Murdoc no longer had to put on a show in front of everyone, he drank all his worries and he was there for him, Murdoc an open book of all bad decisions and violent childhood before him.
Like in Plastic Beach.
Stuart doesn't remember Plastic Beach with much appreciation, but he had seen the real Murdoc there.
He gets closer to the dark-haired man, who keeps his head down, thinking about how brilliant he is, how he used to admire him and although he doesn't really tell him how he feels, his songs are the ones that speak for him.
He has tried to change, but in the meantime he is also moving away from them.
He knows that Murdoc is sick, he is twisted inside, his father and brother may be the cause of that, because he is also afraid of being abandoned.
But they are not like the Niccals.
He will not abandon you.
"You are very complicated for me," he grabs the elder's hips, and Murdoc does not fight when he approaches him slowly. “But I am a renegade when it comes to you”.
Murdoc opens his eyes, remembering the song Stuart is quoting.
He had been in jail when “the now now” ... 2D creation came out, but when he escaped and traveled with them again, the giant screen with his face behind him had stunned him.
“Why do you look so beautiful when you are so sad?”
"Stuart..." Murdoc says with a warning tone, but he has used his real name, the one he always uses when he is serious and neither has he moved away from him or pushed him away.
Then Stuart continues humming the song, but now crouched so that he can whisper it in the brunette's ear and he feels how he shudders to hear his voice so close.
And he knows what his voice produces for Murdoc, he has always been in love with his voice.
When he feels the bassist lay his head on his shoulder, he smiles.
“Stuart, I'm not cold anymore”.
2D laughs, knows what that means and better walks away from him, Murdoc needs his space right now, but maintains a grip on the eldest forearms.
He doesn't know what causes him to say his real name, but he and Murdoc have known each other for years, long before Russel and Noodle.
Murdoc knows him too well and knows what contact is for Stuart.
He is interrupted from staring at the man in front of him when the door opens for the umpteenth time that night and Stu does not miss the way he shudders at the noise.
"If a couple of addicts don't come in, you'll catch a cold and I'm not going to take care of you!" Russel leans out and the two can see Noodle behind him, chuckling and gesturing for them to come in and the drummer wouldn’t get angry at them for staying outside.
Stuart turns his head to look at Murdoc, who is still looking at the door where the others went, but is smiling and his face looks calmer compared to earlier.
But he comes to his senses and when he notices 2D's hands on his forearms and the way he's looking at him, his throat clears.
"L-let's go before he gets all… you know" Murdoc makes some gestures with his hands and Stuart smiles.
Cute. I would never describe a person like Murdoc that way, but when the man grabs part of his sleeve to pull him in, that's what he thinks.
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Four Eighths
Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word Count: 8K+ (She’s a doozy!) Warnings: Language, angst, very basic medical procedures *Disclaimer: Hey again guys, so sorry about the delay with this chapter. But I’ll admit, I actually got this posted a lot sooner than I thought I would! So kudos to me I guess? I just want to say a huge thank you to all of those who have been with this story since the beginning, and those who have joined us along the way. This isn’t the end of this story, but I just want to let you all know how much you all mean to me. And please remember, if you read this story and you like it, give it a like, a comment and maybe even a reblog if you think your followers may like it? I know there isn’t much happening in the 6 Underground fandom these days, but the only way to keep it alive, is if people keep reading and writing for the characters!
All my love my dudes ��❤❤
Probably best if you check out the other chapters first..... One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten
Chapter Eleven: Don’t let me fall, at least not alone
“Four? Can you hear me?” Billy felt weak, and highly disoriented. His head was spinning, as if he actually was fighting a migraine, unlike the one he was supposed to be faking…. Faking, why was he faking a migraine again? “Four, stay with us!” The voice continued calling out, though why was this person yelling out a number? A name sure, he could understand that. But calling out random numbers? That just served to confuse him more.
“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” This was a new voice now, one which sounded just as Billy’s eyes had slowly drifted closed against the harsh fluorescent lights above him. How strange, surely these people weren’t addressing him were they?
“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” The same voice from before was firing orders, her voice holding an edge of fear and concern. Suddenly a shadow appeared above his closed eyes, and carefully he peeled them open, relieved to not be greeted with bright lights, and instead by a shadowed figure. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.” She was whispering to him, or at least that’s what it sounded like. Though it was hard to be sure, especially as he struggled to keep his eyes from falling shut once more.
How had things turned out like this? The last thing he could recall, was speaking with a woman dressed in white at a reception desk. Then it had all gone blank for him.
*****
You paced around the small living room of the house you had all been calling base for the past few weeks, sucking in deep breath after deep breath, all the while clutching your arms around yourself in a tight embrace. “Nope, I can’t do it. I cannot do this guys!”
Two looked up at you from her gossip magazine, having taken great pleasure in the abundance of French reading material. She was the only one of you in the group to have settled into your temporary accommodation, and was fitting in with the locals perfectly. Rolling her eyes at your outburst, she returned to her reading. It wasn’t that she was being unsupportive, far from it actually. It was just that she had reached her limit of words of support, forty odd minutes ago, at the beginning of your breakdown.
“Yes, you can. You know you can! We’ve been over the plan hundreds of times now, everything is in place. Weapons are stored in the hospital, the Lushnick’s are there, we’ve seen them! Everything is working out according to plan. Four will be on his way to Emergency within a few hours, then it’s all up to us. We can’t leave him.” It was One’s turn to play reassurer this time around, and he was the first to raise Four as if knowing it would get a rise out of you.
You whirl on the spot, eyes growing wide and pupils blown. “I never suggested we leave Four! I ju– I just don’t know if this mission is a good idea is all?”
One sighed, squaring his shoulders before smoothing his hands down his turquoise scrubs. “Eight, if you had one shot, or one opportunity. To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would capture it? Or just let it slip?”
You stare at One, blinking slowly as silence fills the room. “Is – Was that Eminem?” You stammer, shaking your head gently, as if to clear the fog which had settled there. Surely you were mistaken, One couldn’t be quoting Lose yourself, right?....
“Does it make it any better or worse knowing this isn’t the first time he’s used that as a motivational speech?” Seven grins, winking at you impishly.
“I think what makes it worse is knowing that no matter what reaction he got last time, he still decided to try it again!”
“Touché, and dude, get yourself a better speech already!” Seven smirks, patting One on the shoulder as he walks by and towards the kitchen. His uniform shirt half buttoned as he goes.
“Why does everyone know that song straight away?” One groans, looking genuinely confused.
“Because it’s the bloody 2020’s! And not to hate on Slim or anything, but for the love of god, replace your ipod shuffle, and listen to some new music. Please!” You plead, as the startling thought of One thinking lose yourself was a new song creeped its way into your mind, causing you to shudder.
Five steps out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing out behind her. Looking like the absolute goddess she is, with her hair wrapped in a fluffy towel, and a robe concealing her, she fixes you with a strong look. “Eight. You are ready for this. Upon our first mission, we were all terrified. But we pulled through, one way or another we did what needed to be done, and look where we are now. I know what you’re feeling, we all do. We’ve all been there, trust me. But the only way this will work, the only way we will be able to get to the Lushnick’s, is if we stick together and work this mission just as we’ve planned. That means all of us. We can’t be a member short, not this time.” Without waiting for your response, Five walks away, closing a bedroom door behind her.
You have no response, no witty retort. Nothing. Not that it would matter, Five wasn’t there to hear it anyway. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turn back to One, who still looked somewhat put out by your ipod comment. “Has anyone seen my uniform?”
*****
Just after 11am, Billy made his way to the hospital and into the Emergency department, cradling his head between his palms, and groaning in mock agony. His earpiece was safely tucked in his ear, providing him contact with his team. Contact which he had been severely missing these past few weeks. At first it had been bearable, what with your secret texts on your burner phone. But when One had arrived at the safe house, it had been harder to sneak messages, until finally they had ceased all together. But hearing your voice now, ringing through his ears, he felt like he was home. Despite walking into a hospital.
“Genevieve Lushnick is on the move. Last seen leaving Ward 11A.” You advise everyone.
“She finished her rounds in Paediatrics much earlier, not sure where she’s headed now.” Five recalls, the sounds of crying infants in the background of her voice.
“Usually her roster would have her checking on Geriatrics in Ward 7B next. But She’s already been there. That was her second visit of the day.” Seven advises, though he sounds confused. To be fair, so does everyone else. Genevieve was changing up her routine, something she hadn’t done at all during their surveillance of her. So why now?
“Hold on, let me see if I can track her down through the live camera feeds.” You suggest, the sounds of your fingers flying across a keyboard breaking the silence which followed.
Billy’s concentration on the conversation happening in his ear is cut off by a woman dressed in white sat at the Emergency reception desk. A nurse from the looks of her. “Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?” She blinks wide amber eyes up at Billy, who stares back confusedly.
“Uh, En-English?” A part of him wants to chastise himself for not learning French for this mission. But knowing he was playing the part of a tourist he allowed himself some leeway in the preparation department.
The nurse smiles further, though the more teeth she shows the more forced it looks. “Of course. How may I help you today sir?”
“I just flew in a few days ago, and I have an awful headache. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. All lights are too bright, I feel weak, my head is pounding, and I feel nauseas.”
“Has this just begun, or is this an ongoing issue?”
“No, it just started this morning. I took a couple of paracetamol to help when I woke up, but they’ve done nothing.”
The nurse nods her head, looking down at her computer, as Billy adds in a groan for effect. Just as the nurse asks for personal details, One appears from the behind the desk. “Goodness, what’s wrong with this man? He looks like death on two legs!”
Billy repeats what he had just told the nurse, with One nodding along, and playing every part the good doctor. “You need to be seated immediately. Someone, bring me a wheelchair!” One calls in the direction of the wardsmen who are stood around the waiting room. “Jennifer, you need to be more familiar with signs of a migraine. This young man, what was your name sir?”
“James.” Billy moans, falling back into the wheelchair once it appears behind him, laying his head back for added effect.
“Yes, James could have collapsed at any moment. Please be more mindful next time.” One warns, a harsh glare in his eyes directed at the young nurse.
“O-of course Doctor Cleavers. It won’t happen again.”
Billy can barley contain his smirk at the sound of One’s alias, covering his attempted chuckle with a well-timed groan.
“Does anyone have eyes on Gregory?” Two whispers harshly into her earpiece, causing Billy to flinch slightly, just as one does the same. Christ, Two needs to keep her tone down!
It’s Three’s turn to respond first now, who sounds quite proud of himself as he speaks. “He’s up in theatres, doing God knows what to God knows who.” The sound of a trolley filled with rattling dishes being pushed, barely making his mumbled voice audible.
One moves around behind Billy, kicking up the brake on the wheelchair, and pushing him towards the swipe pass activated doors, leading to the Emergency treatment area. The deafening silence flowing through both his and Billy’s earpieces cause the two men to glance at each other nervously.
“How long ago did you see Gregory heading to theatres?” You ask, an edge of worry hinting at your tone.
Yet another long pause, until. “During breakfast rounds… I suppose two hours ago, maybe?” Three no longer sounds sure of himself, which sets in a sinking feeling in all those on the team.
“He was scheduled to finish surgery one hour ago. Has anyone seen him this past hour?” You snap back, perhaps more of a bite in your words than you had intended.
“Negative.” Replies One in a quiet voice, while smiling at fellow doctors as he pushed Billy.
“No.” That was Two.
“Nope.” Five now, who had been awfully quiet so far.
“Neither.” Three mumbles, likely feeling as dejected as he sounded.
“Well you know I haven’t.” Billy smirks. It was a risk him speaking to the group like this, but currently with his head tilted back, and staring up at the ceiling as he was being wheeled down a corridor, no one really paid any attention to him.
“I’ve only seen Genevieve. The two haven’t been together all morning sorry.” Seven whispers.
“Fuck me…” You breathe out, slamming your fists down on the desk. “I can’t see either of them on the live feeds!”
Carefully, Billy lifts his head once again, turning over his shoulder to peer up at One, who was frowning and staring dead ahead. “Is there a problem Doctor Cleavers?” He mumbles, keeping the act up for anyone who may pass.
“There very well may be.” One mutters, only glancing down at Billy for a brief moment.
The two continue down the corridor for another few minutes, the bright clinical lights beginning to bring on a genuine headache for Billy now. Finally, they come to a stop in a large treatment room, multiple beds lining the walls, all encircled by blue curtains. Some had been drawn for patient’s privacy, while others remained opened. In the centre of the room was a large desk where Nurses and Doctors hurried to and from, collecting and depositing various prescriptions and clinical orders. “James, are you able to stand to bring yourself over to the bed?” One asks, raising his voice enough to somewhat put on a show for those nearby.
The temptation to ask One to pick him up is almost too great to pass up, but knowing that somehow it would come back to haunt him, Billy opts for standing himself. “I think I can manage, thank you Doc.” Standing slowly, Billy pivots on the spot, and shuffles over to the bed, hoisting himself up and laying back.
“We’ll need to bring your fluids up, I’m worried about you becoming dehydrated. We’ll need to cannulate you. Have you ever had a cannula before?” One asks, waving for a nurse to come and assist him.
“No, I don’t think I have.”
“Not to worry, it’s relatively quick and painless.”
The nurse hurries over, and listens as One fires orders at him, orders which he had picked up from watching medical shows, mostly scrubs…. “We need James on a drip ASAP, get that started now!”
“Right away Doctor Cleavers.” The nurse agrees, before moving off to grab the necessary equipment.
Billy turns his attention to One, raising his eyebrows in concern. “Are you seriously going to stick a needle in me?” He hisses, emerald eyes flashing in fear.
One shrugs lightly, turning away from Billy to keep an eye out for the nurse. “Well, I’m not going to be injecting you. Can’t say the same for the nurse though.”
Billy wants to scream, at no stage during the briefings had there been any mention of him having a needle jabbed into him! Hell, if there had been any discussions of such a thing, he likely would’ve backed out! Perhaps that was why there was no mention? The nurse reappears, and preps his work station, all the while One, or Doctor Cleavers stays around to supervise the proceedings, occasionally chiming in with his theories as to what the cause for his sudden pain could be.
“Four! One! They’re coming!” Your voice breaks through the stinging sensation of the needle, panic flying through Billy’s veins. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for-” Your voice is broken by puffing breaths, and the sound of your feet pounding on the tiles as you sprint from somewhere else in the hospital.
“Emergency.” Billy finishes, as the two people who he had been staring at photographs of for months now, strut into the treatment room, patients and doctors alike parting like the red sea as the couple head towards Billy and One. Four sets of eyes meet, and no member of either team is willing to break concentration.
“We’ve been expecting you.” Genevieve grins, her canine teeth almost too pointed, like fangs brushing against her ruby painted lips.
“Thank you, Eric, you’ve done a wonderful job here.” Gregory turns to the nurse and nods his head, the nurse returning the gesture and leaving the group.
“Eight for Four, come in Four!” Your voice shouts in his ear, causing Billy to flinch away.
“Ah, that must be the rest of your team I take it? Not to worry, we have our people taking care of them as we speak.” Genevieve shrugs, before turning to One. “Seeing as you’re so good at playing Doctor, you’ll be pushing your friend. He won’t be awake much longer. I would hate for him to collapse.”
At these words, Billy shoots up on the bed, his head spinning as he does so. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Genevieve waves him off, her nails painted the same shimmering ruby as her lips. “Surely you don’t expect me to give away our secrets? That’s not how people like us work.”
One steps behind Billy’s bed, and begins driving it forwards, following behind the Lushnick’s with a scowl. Billy could see the wheels in his mind turning, as he tried to formulate a plan of escape, though from every way he looked at it, they were pretty well fucked. He could feel his body growing tired, and his mind becoming clouded and dazed, whatever they had given him, it was taking over his body quickly, and any minute now he would be useless to the team.
*****
Fuck! The entire team had lost the Lushnick’s! How did that even happen? Seven was supposed to be trailing them, he had been doing so every other day perfectly, but what the fuck had gone wrong today? Your fingers fly across the keyboard, frantically switching between all the cameras in the hospital. Some provided a live feed, while others only offered playback, but at this point in time you would take what you could get. Window after window pops open on your monitor, squinting at the slightly pixelated images to try and identify who was being filmed.
“There!” You practically scream, causing one of the guards walking past your office to jump, turning a concerned look your way. “Sorry, just uh – finally got a fly that’s been harassing me all morning.” You blurt out, though with a shrug, the guard walks on, either having bought the lie or not caring enough to question it further. You gaze back at the image on your screen, it was from one of the playback cameras. Both Gregory and Genevieve were spotted seven minutes ago in one of the staff only corridors, leading between the imaging department and emergency. “Seven minutes…. How long does it take to get there?”
“Three! Come in Three!”
“Bloody hell, no need to yell Eight. What is it?”
“On your delivery route, how long does it usually take to get between X-ray and Emergency?”
Three pauses to think, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he does so. “Roughly twenty minutes.”
“We’re fucked.”
“What? What does that mean?!”
You ignore the frantic questions streaming from Three, the others shortly joining in with their own confusion. But you didn’t have time to address their concerns, right now there was only one thing on your mind. Beating the Lushnick’s to the Emergency room. With your heart hammering in your chest, and breathing coming out in desperate gasps you turn back to your computer, snaking your way into the hospital power grid.
You know how to do this, it’s just like what you did for your museum heist way back when you had met One. But for some reason, your brain can’t seem to summon the image of what you need to do. You could try a keyboard smash now that you’re in the controls, but that could seriously damage literally everything… “Come on, just think dammit.” You snarl at yourself, clasping your hands into fists, and pressing them against your temples.
Eyes springing open, you fix a harsh glare at the blinking screen before you, asking for a password. “Y’all Lushnick’s are fucked.” The password it simple to guess, trust the Lushnick’s to use their fucking last name as a password. They may be smart in what they do, but they sure as hell know nothing about internet security. The screen turns black, with a 3D model of the hospital slowly building itself on your screen. With each scroll of your mouse, the model shifts, and enlarges to a new section of the hospital. A blinking blue bar in the top left of the screen offers a text space, and going on a hunch, you type in ‘Geriatrics’ and press enter. The model disintegrates into tiny pixels, before rebuilding just the section you had searched. “Brilliant…” You whisper to yourself.
The geriatrics ward of the hospital consisted of one main power source, with a backup which would boot up and provide energy to the most necessary equipment and lights in the event of the main grid failing. “Five for Eight, come in?”
“Eight here, what’s going on?”
“I’m being followed. There’s security blocking off just about every exit on this floor, and no matter where I go, there’s someone behind me, or waiting for me.”
“Has anyone else got this issue?” You call out, eagerly awaiting replies. There’s a resounding yes in response, with the only discrepancy coming from Seven.
“A couple of guards caught up to me in 11B, they’ve brought me along to help catch the infiltrators.”
“So they don’t know you’re a part of this?”
“Seems like it. And from what I gather, they aren’t onto you either…”
“Perfect, Seven stay with your team. There’s about to be a Code Blue in geriatrics. I’ll put the call through to all security to get to the ward, that should give the rest of you time to escape. Rendezvous in Staff corridor D.”
You don’t wait to hear the replies from your team, once again your body working quicker than your mind. Your hands already working on shutting down the power to the Geriatrics ward. You should feel worse than you do, you were putting innocent people’s lives at risk. But the one thing which had been drilled into you from the begging was, the team comes first wherever possible. It was Seven who insisted on this. But who were you to argue with him?
Your eyes are glued to your screen as you watch a warning light appear over the 3D model you had been working with. ‘WARNING! Main power grid will be turned off. WARNING!’ It was rather polite of the system to warn you of the damage you were about to inflict, however the flashing red image did little to stop you. With one final mouse click, a new pop up appeared on your screen. This one somehow even more urgent, despite no red flashing lights. ‘WARNING! Main power grid for geriatrics has now been turned off. Back up system now operating.’ An alarm was blaring throughout your office, warning you and all security who remained nearby of a system failure. “All units. Repeat, all units to Geriatric ward immediately. Power failure. All units report.” You instruct through the P/A system.” Instantly, you watch as two security guards’ race past your office, down the hall and towards the stairwell.
“Five, have they gone? Can you get out?” You ask carefully, keeping your voice low in case of any security stragglers.
“Yeah, they’ve all gone now. Jesus Eight, what kind of a system failure did you make?” You can hear her laughing now, though you know the doctor side of her is genuinely concerned as to what chaos you had caused.
“Nothing that should cause any real harm, but it’s done the trick.” You smirk, locking your computer and stepping out of the office.
You knew the security alert wouldn’t deter the Lushnick’s, hell even if the building was on fire, you doubt they would stray from their current target. But if your calculations were correct, you still had at least five minutes to warn One and Four of their impending arrival. Your heavy combat boots pound against the tiles, sprinting your way towards corridor D, praying the others would already be there, or at least arriving soon. Pressing your index finger against your earpiece, your voice sounding frantic even to you. “Four! One! They’re coming!”. They had time, they had to have time….. But with no response from either, you try again. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for Emergency!”
Nothing, not a single word from Four or One. This wasn’t right, they were supposed to have time still, plenty of time to get out of Emergency and meet you and the team. But as you round the corner to Staff corridor D, there’s no One, and sure as hell no Billy. “Thank God you got here alright!” Five gasps, running over to you and wrapping her arms around you. You had never known her to be much of a hugger, but you suppose high stakes situations like this could change a person. Checking over her shoulder you spot Three, Seven, and Two all talking amongst themselves. “Where’re Four and One?” You ask timidly, stepping away from Five’s embrace slowly, and looking between her and the rest of the team.
No one seems inclined to answer you, which only serves to send a deep chill down your spine, and for a solid mass to feel as if it had been lodged in your throat. Pressing on your earpiece again, you try calling for the two again. “Eight for Four and One, come in both of you.”
There’s again no reply, and your heart feels like it’s being strangled. “I heard some of the guards talking. There was talk of a couple of intruders being found…” Seven begins, his dark eyes meeting yours, with a look which could only be described as true sympathy.
Sharp, electric static echoes through your teams ears, all earpieces but yours going haywire for five seconds, before silence once more. “What the fuck was that?” Three snarls, ripping the piece out and glaring at it between his large fingers.
An all too familiar voice speaks slowly now in your ear, but as you look around you realise this voice was only speaking to you. No one else could hear her. “Well, who do we have here. You’re not the Doctor, I would recognise her voice anywhere. And you’re obviously not the French one, unless you’ve managed to disguise your accent, which I truly doubt. So who are you…”
“I’m not playing any of your sick little games Genevieve. Where is the rest of my team?” You hiss, causing the others to look up and over to you.
“Eight? What’s going on?” Two asks carefully, stepping towards you slowly.
“Who are you talking to? Three asks, lifting his brows up.
“Ah, see. There’s the French one! I knew you had to be someone else! Eight was it? Oh how interesting. So what, did another one of your team die? Is that why you’re here?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m not someone’s replacement.”
“Oh aren’t you? Well that just makes this even more special then doesn’t it? Tell me, which one of these charming young men is Four who you seem so concerned about? Is it this ruggishly handsome tall fellow who keeps glaring at me? Or is it the pretty blonde, with the gorgeous green eyes, who’s having a hard time staying awake right now?” It’s an involuntary reaction, but at the mention of Four, your breath catches in your throat, causing a small gasp to escape your lips. “Ah, the blonde it is..”
“What have you done to him? What can’t he stay awake?”
“My my, so many questions! If you didn’t want anything to happen to him, then maybe you shouldn’t have used him a bait silly little girl!”
“Where the fuck is he?”
“I suppose I could tell you, it would be rather enjoyable to see the look on your face as we operate on him, while there’s nothing you can do about it…”
You don’t wait to hear anymore, ripping the earpiece out and throwing it as far down the corridor as possible. “Theatres. The Lushnick’s have Four and One. They’re about to do something to Four.” You gasp out, barely able to catch your breath, as tears prick the backs of your eyes.
“Shhh, Eight it’s going to be fine, I promise.” Five offers, soothing her palm down your back gently.
“Don’t you dare make empty promises.” You growl, shaking her off and racing down the hall, towards the stairwell.
*****
“What have you given him?” One growls, glaring between both the Lushnick’s and Four who lay on an operating table, barely moving and occasionally groaning. He rattled his arm against the handcuffs which kept him bound to a side railing. He was completely useless, both to himself and to his teammate.
Genevieve turned to him now, regarding him with a cold stare. “I hardly see why that matters now? You can’t do anything to help him, especially not in your current predicament.” She chuckles darkly, before turning her attention back to Gregory. The man barely spoke a word, but the sick sadistic smile which had been growing across his lips these past few minutes, was enough for One to get a better sense of his character.
“At least tell me what you’re going to do to him!” One tries again. He was running out of questions, and by the looks of things, time too. He had hoped he would be able to keep the Lushnick’s occupied long enough for you and the rest of the team to get here, but ever since Genevieve finished her conversation with you, she seemed all the more eager to get this started.
“Well that’s the fun part. Greg doesn’t know yet! Here’s how this works. Greg cuts the patient open, has a bit of a poke and prod around. Takes out what he wants, and then stitches ‘em back up! You never know what will be taken!” Genevieve grins, pressing a red kiss to Gregory’s cheek, who only grins broader.
One has to fight back to urge to both vomit, and throw punches, instead opting to glare at the duo. “You’re both sick, and you’re going to rot in hell once we’re through with you!”
Genevieve waves him off, turning her attention to Four, who was more unconscious than conscious now. Though he occasionally made a slight jolt, or mumbled a quiet sentence. “Should we wait until he is a bit more under before beginning the procedure?”
Gregory turned to her, lifting a brow in curiosity. “And risk the others getting here, before it’s too late for them to rescue him?”
Just as his words die off, a loud crash against the operating theatre door causes both Doctor’s to glance towards the sound. The crash was quickly followed by another, before a gunshot can be heard echoing throughout the circular room, the sound of a heavy body hitting the ground following. “Greg…..” Genevieve whispers, turning to the Doctor, as the double doors slam open. The metallic hingers screeching under the sudden movement.
“Where the fuck is my boyfriend?” You scream, pistol raised, and aimed directly at Genevieve Lushnick. Seven and Three stand beside you, each holding a gun of their own, with Three aimed at the nurses in the theatre, and Seven poised to fire upon Gregory. Two and Five stand either side of them, aiming at the guards behind them who were writhing on the ground, though they both remained vigilant for any further arrivals.
Gregory lifts a scalpel and hovers it directly above Four’s abdomen, poised and ready to cut. “Ah, you must be Eight.” Genevieve grins, taking a careful step towards you, as Gregory lowers the scalpel closer to Four’s bare skin.
Seven aims at the wall just above where Gregory stands, the bullet ripping a hole in the sterile room, causing Gregory to jump back almost an entire foot. “Don’t even think about trying that again.” Seven hisses, fixing the Doctor with a glare.
“Now now, there will be no need for violence.” Genevieve begins, before taking a look at the guards who were slowly bleeding out in the entry way. “At least, no more violence that is.” She steps forwards again, fixing you with an interested eye. “My goodness you look familiar. Have we met before?”
“I’m positive I would recall meeting someone as wicked and vile as you.” You spit, keeping your pistol trained on your target, your eyes following her every step.
“Hm, yes I suppose so.” You were now engaged in an odd type of dance, Genevieve was slowly circling around you, and you followed her every move, moving in a circle on the spot. “This is where the negotiations begin, I imagine.”
“There will be no negotiations. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we take you to the authorities who will make sure you both rot in a prison cell for the rest of your sorry lives.”
Genevieve shakes her head no, still walking in her slow circle around you. From an outside perspective, it was that of a lion circling its prey, though to your perspective, you had the upper hand. Or at least, you had the weapon. “No, you see that doesn’t work for us.”
“Fine. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we kill you both right here, right now.”
Genevieve shakes her head again, looking over to Gregory who was clutching the scalpel for dear life. “Eight, something’s wrong…” One calls, looking over to Four. The young man was beginning to convulse on the operating table. His skin was flushed in tiny pinprick sized red dots, and his chest was rising and falling in rapid laboured breaths.
You chance a glance over to Four, and your heart stops. Something was horrendously wrong. “Five, go check on him!” You screech, turning your full attention back on Genevieve as Five races past you. In a split second, you pocket your gun in the back of your jeans, and lurch forwards, fists griping into the collar of Genevieve’s shirt. You hold the fabric with such ferocity the seams popping in her shirt is almost audible, but your blood is pumping too loudly in your ears for you to hear. “Tell me what you gave him!” You’re practically screaming now, directly in her face, yet Genevieve doesn’t seem phased at all. She was used to outbursts such as this, granted they were typically from a grieving mother or father, and not someone threatening her life, but none the less, it felt like just another day in the office.
“Not until we strike a deal!”
There’s only one thing running through your mind as your eyes lock onto Genevieve’s, the training fight you had had with Three all those months ago. Only this time, there was no one fighting back, you had the power. Your leg steps behind Genevieve’s left, and you sweep out with your entire weight, releasing her collar just as her knees gives way and buckle beneath her weight, and she crumbles to the ground bellow you, her back smacking the hard tiled floor with a crack. Instantly, you’re on top of her, kneeling down against her stomach and pinning her to the ground.
“You bitch!” She shrieks, coughing as she attempts to regain the breath you had knocked out of her, though with almost your entire weight leaning into her now, it was unlikely she would.
“I’m terribly sorry. I guess I lost my footing.” You smirk, pressing your knee harder against her. Causing Genevieve to cry out in pain.
Gregory races forwards, his scalpel dropping to the ground in his haste. “Get off of her!” He calls, wrapping her palms over your shoulders and attempting to tear you away.
Three steps in, shoulder barging him in the stomach and sending the Doctor crashing to the ground beside his wife.
“Guys! I think Four’s having a severe allergic reaction to whatever concoction he was pumped full of!” Five yells, a stethoscope looped around her neck, as her frantic eyes meet yours. “Is he allergic to anything you know of?”
You stare back at Five, your mind going completely blank, you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Surely Four would’ve told you if he had any allergies, right? And perhaps he had done just that, but standing here now, with all hope resting on your shoulders, you couldn’t think of a single thing which may be useful in this situation. Shaking your head, a growing sense of dread filling you, as the rest of the team remain silent. “I- I don’t know….”
“I can give him an Epipen, but I need to know what he’s either had, or what he’s allergic to so I can get him the proper antidote!”
Tearing your eyes away from Five, you look over to One, who not only felt but looked entirely useless, chained to a handrail on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes searching his for an answer. Your mission was to capture the Lushnick’s, and right now, that was exactly what you had done. But if you kept them as they were now, as prisoners, Four could die….. Was that a sacrifice you were willing to make?
All One could offer was a gentle half smile, shrugging his shoulders slightly in his compromising position. He couldn’t offer you an answer, hell you couldn’t even offer yourself an answer….
Carefully, you release some of the pressure from Genevieve’s stomach, just enough for her to look up at you in surprise, blinking wide eyes up at you. “Tell me what you gave him, and we’ll let you both go.” You mutter, fighting back the urge to swallow back your own words.
A wicked smirk unravels over Genevieve’s lips. The kind of smirk which one would associate with a wicked stepmother, or evil queen from a Disney film. “Deal.” You release more pressure from your hold on her, until she can breathe properly once more, and Three steps away from Gregory, giving the man a swift boot to the hip just to make his point. “We gave him a combination of penicillin, general anaesthetic, codeine…” Genevieve stands, as does Gregory, both stepping backwards towards the door. Your team moving out of their way upon looking at you for clarification. No one wanted to move, that much was obvious in the frantic looks the others were throwing your way. But at the same time, they all knew the price they would have to pay if they kept the Lushnick’s as they were now. A price no one was prepared for.
“There was some paracetamol mixed in too….” Genevieve continues. They were at the doorway now, hand in hand, gazing behind themselves to make sure the way was clear. “Hm, what else?”
“Gosh, I just can’t recall.” Gregory shrugs, an evil smirk crawling its way over his lips. His eyes glowing with malice. “I simply have no idea what ese they’re may have been!” He calls with enthusiasm, before both pivot on the spot, racing from the theatre.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” You shriek, your sight going red as you sprint after them down the corridor, pulling your gun out as you give chase. Genevieve looks at you over her shoulder as they reach the stairwell, regarding you with a look of familiarity.
“Eight! Eight, it’s not worth it!” Two yells from the doorway, watching you with a deep concern. She knew what you were capable of, your whole team did, but not the Lushnick’s. And from the looks of things, they didn’t care either. You stop halfway down the corridor, releasing the safety on your pistol and firing three shots at the door Gregory hand his hand pressed against. He jumps backwards in shock, glaring back at you, pure fury masking his features.
“Yes Eight, listen to your friend. She seems to be the brains of this group. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now would we?” Genevieve snarls, baring too many teeth to be considered even remotely friendly.
Aiming the pistol once more, you line up your sights, finger hovering over the trigger. One shot, that’s all it would take. A bullet to the middle of Genevieve’s forehead would kill her instantly, and Gregory would have no choice but to surrender. “Are you going to kill me? Shall I say hello to Kellie when I see her?”
You stare at Genevieve, her words ringing through your ears, and sending a jolt of shockwaves straight down your spine. In that moment of hesitation, the Lushnick’s push through the stairwell door, and flee.
You’re paralysed on the spot, staring after where the Lushnick’s had stood moments ago. They recognised you. They knew who you were and why you wanted revenge. But how? It had been years since you last saw them, you had been a child! Surely you looked different now from back then? But they knew you! They remembered Kellie… A gun shot rings down the corridor, the sound of metal clanging to the tiled floor following directly after.
“Eight! What happened?” One yells, now free of his handcuffs, and jogging down the corridor to meet you. You hadn’t moved. Still stood with your arms raised, and gun pointed to where Genevieve had stood.
“They – They knew me.” You gulp, putting the pistol away with shaking hands, and turning to look up at One. Tears were brimming in your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. At least not yet.
“What? But how?”
“I don’t know! That’s the fucking problem.” You hiss, storming away from One back towards the theatre. Once back, chaos surrounded Four, with everyone racing around him handing various different equipment and medications to Five, as she prepped some kind of antidote perhaps. “How’s he doing?”
Five looks up at you, regarding you with a careful mix of sympathy and hope. “The EpiPen gave him enough adrenaline to wake up again, though he’s extraordinarily groggy. Now I’m just tyring to figure out exactly what to give him to counteract the other shit that’s pumping through him.”
You nod your head in thanks, knowing you would find the time to thank Five properly once all of this was over. “What can I do to help?”
“We need to try and keep him awake, he keeps coming in and out of consciousness.” Three replies, as he passes Five a vile of clear liquid.
“Four? Can you hear me?” You ask carefully, stepping over to him and squeezing his hand tightly. His warm fingers curl around yours in reply, before falling limp against your palm.
“He’s out again! Wake him up!” Five yells to those in the room.
“Four, stay with us!” You plead, pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. To hell with anyone seeing the act of intimacy, if One wanted to give you shit for it, he could do so when you were all in the clear. Though checking the room, you can’t find One or Two for that matter, they must still be in the corridor where you had left them?
Slowly, Four blinked his eyes open, frantic emerald flickering around the room and searching for something, or someone. Just as his eyes landed on yours, they fell shut again, and his body spasmed once more.
“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” It was Seven yelling this time, his voice booming above all other noises in the vast room.
“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” You can hear the tears in your voice as you beg for him to open his eyes again, but they remain closed. Turning to look at Five, she looks frazzled. Her hair which had started in a neat, slicked back bun, was now hanging loose down her back, and was wild with frizz. She looks up at you, not quite in a glare, but with enough ferocity behind the look that you know better than to bother her anymore.
Leaning down, you card your fingers through Four’s blonde curls, brushing away a few stray locks which were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Barely more than a slit, his eyes open and stare directly up at you. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.”
Three looks over at you, his ears perking up at the use of his teammates real name. It was one thing to use names in privacy back home. But during a mission, however failed that mission may be, now that was new. Shaking his head, he spots One and Two heading over, but with grim looks on their faces. “What’s the plan?” Two asks, her eyes locking with Three’s.
“There isn’t one, not really. We just need to keep him awake.” Five sighs. “I think I know what to give him to help, but I want him awake when I administer it. If it works correctly then it should knock him out for a bit. If he’s already unconscious when I give it to him, then I won’t know if it’s doing more harm than good.”
One turns his attention over to you now, lifting one brow as you meet his gaze. “Any idea what will keep him awake?”
You pause, clutching Four’s hand tightly, and staring blankly at One. “Trivia. He loves random trivia facts!” You blurt out after a beat of pause. All eyes turn to you in surprise, no one quite knowing how to respond to this information. You shrug lightly, averting your gaze from One’s. “We play a lot of trivial pursuit back at base.”
Seven is the first to break the silence, though not to mock you as you had thought would be the case. Instead, he looks down at Four. “Hey mate, did you know high heels were originally invented for men. Imagine Three chasing down the Lushnick’s in stilettos.” He laughs, which causes Four to stir slightly, his eyes opening just a tad.
“Fuck, you’re right. That did work.” One blinks in surprise, running a hand through his short hair.
“Of course it did. I know Four, I know what works on him.” You mutter quietly.
Without looking up, Five smirks to herself. “You sure do kid.”
There’s no fighting the embarrassment which claws within you. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to be making suggestive comments… “Alright, keep ‘em coming guys!”
“Um okay…. Uh, Canada has more lakes than anywhere in the world.” Seven offers unsurely.
“Those greedy fucks….” Four moans, causing everyone to pause, before laughing quietly. Good, his sense of humour was still intact, that’s surely a good sign!
Two steps closer, and looks down at Four in deep concentration, before leaning back slightly. “David Bowie, he did not in fact have two different coloured eyes. One of his pupils was permanently dilated after he was punched in the eye during an argument over a girl.”
“Bugger me, really?” Five pipes up, both brows raised in surprise. “I always thought he had one blue and one brown eye.” She shrugs, priming a syringe carefully.
Slowly, Four was waking up. Granted he wasn’t exactly moving very much, but his eyes were opening, and he was grinning somewhat at the facts that were being thrown at him.
Staring down at Billy, something pops into your mind, a fact which you had learnt years ago at school but never shared with anyone else. “Okay, here’s one for you. Madonna’s like a prayer, is actually not about praying, it’s about giving someone a blowjob!”
Silence follows, and you swear you could hear crickets chirping. “Why the fuck is that something you know?” Four groans quietly, his eyes searching all over your face, before finally meeting your own.
“Shit, I don’t know… I also didn’t think that would be the fact that would wake you up the most! I was hoping someone else would say something after me!” You grumble through a grin.
“Nothing could possibly beat that fact.” Four chuckles weakly, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could muster.
Five turns around, holding a full syringe in her right hand, and a sterile swab in the other. “Glad you’re awake. What I’m about to give you however, is going to send you right back to sleep. Sorry about that. But I assure you, next time you wake up, you’re going to feel amazing.” She grins, ripping open the swab, and swiping it over the inside of his elbow.
For the second time that day, Four winces in pain as a needle plunges through his skin. Squeezing his eyes shut against both the sight of the injection, and the stinging pain. Whatever Five had given him was fast acting, and soon enough Four finds it nearly impossible to reopen his eyes now that he’s closed them.
“Move him into the wheelchair there, it’ll be easier than carrying him out of here.” You suggest, pointing to the blue cushioned wheelchair in the corner of the room.
One, Three and Seven all nod their agreement, and move around the operating table, getting into position to lift Four. “Count of three…. One, two, three.” Three instructs, as the men lift Four who simply groans in protest. You watch his limp body be carried across the room, your heart aching at the sight. ‘It could be worse… He’s just asleep.’ You repeat to yourself, once again fighting back the tears which had remained ever present at the corners of your eyes.
Three pushes the wheelchair as you all follow in a daze. Your mind felt as if it were a million miles away from the current situation. For the briefest of moments, you had genuinely considered murdering Genevieve. Never once had you thought yourself capable of doing such a thing. But yet, there you had been. Gun poised, and trigger finger rearing to go. If it hadn’t of been for her words, then she would be dead…
The escape route was an easy one, especially with security still trying to figure out what had gone wrong on the geriatrics ward still. Swiping the keys to an ambulance at the docking bay, you load Four inside the back with Five to monitor him. One drives, Three and Two sitting beside him up the front. While you and Seven sit quietly in the back. Occasionally your focus returns to Four, but mostly you stare out of the back windows, watching as traffic zips around you. You nearly killed someone today… What sort of a person were you becoming? And did you even like the person you were turning into?
Four Eighths taglist (If you would like to be added, please let me know!) @sj-thefan @not-the-cleavers @jinxfirebolt18902 @softnorris @dear-vista @mixer2b @rintheemolion @shane-isa-shame @keithseabrook27 @tammykelly @himarisolace @buckingpeterparker @cailin-lefantasy @riddikuluslysirius @vivalakatee @pxroxide-prinxcesss
My Masterlist for all my other nonsense!
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Kiro’s R&S: Bystanders (Chapters 33-34) Translation [CN]
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Hi, y’all! Just a couple of quick notes before you begin reading...
This R&S translation contains spoilers from the CN server for Chapters 33-34 which have not yet been released in the ENG server. So if you don’t wish to be spoiled then please don’t look below the cut!
The next thing is that I don’t actually know any Chinese myself so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with a huge help from the lovely @keliosyfan . Thanks so much!!
Hope you enjoy!~
No matter how the outside world changes, his heart is as pure as always.
[Chapter 1]
That experimental kid.
This is Hephaistos’ first impression of the new Helios.
He first saw this kid, not at the headquarters, but on the TV on the side of the road.
A blonde young man, with a soft smile within his blue eyes, sang a song in English on stage. The camera turned away from the stage. Fans screamed and waved light sticks frantically, the directors and judges on the side were all intoxicated.
Passers-by, who were attracted by the youth’s singing, gathered in front of the TV, obsessively looking at the shining star on the screen.
Only Hephaistos in the crowd stood by with cold eyes. He clearly understands the hypocritical admiration in front of him and what kind of fanatic power he will eventually integrate into his plan. This is the purpose of BLACK SWAN; to promote the symbol of “Kiro” to the public.
What’s so good about this kid’s singing performance? Hephaistos huffed and left uninterestedly.
But that impression would soon be overturned.
The dark alleys are not easy to navigate after the rain. The muddy water and blood mix together to form shallow puddles. Each footstep produces a sticky sound. Hephaistos ordered his men to clean up the mess. He looked to find the silver-haired young man walking out of the shadows and greeted him, “It’s done?”
Helios took a USB flash drive from his pocket and threw it to him: “It’s all here.”
“The new Helios’ methods are much more straightforward than I thought.” Hephaistos looked at the humble gadget in his hand, “It seems that working with you in the future should be easy.”
He stretched out his hand to Helios: “It seems I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Hephaistos, but you’d better not call me by this name. It’s too confusing, and I’m not used to it.”
Helios glanced at the dark-skinned man in front of him. The other party showed him a friendly smile, but his gaze in the nightlight looked like a falcon locked onto its prey, making his nerves instinctively go on high alert.
He nodded but didn’t hold Hephaistos’ hand back: “There’s blood on my hand. Makes it inconvenient.”
Hephaistos expressed his understanding and stepped to the side: “Are you coming back with me to headquarters now?”
“There’s something else.” Helios obviously didn’t intend to talk to him more, so he left.
Seeing Helios walking away, Hephaistos said: “I’ve heard your song.”
Helios paused and turned his head.
“Although I don’t have much appreciation for music, I still think it’s a good song.” Hephaistos lips formed a slightly playful smile. “Just thinking of someone who can write such sunny and gentle lyrics who is capable of creating such horror in a blink of an eye. I can’t help but feel goosebumps.”
Helios’ expression remained the same: “Are you done talking nonsense?”
“Is this really nonsense? I just thought I’d remind you,” Hephaistos gave a step back. “Since you have returned to the dark, don’t think of the light anymore.”
When Helios heard this statement, his gaze dropped slightly. When he raised it again, his golden pupils were sharp as blades, and they passed the corner of Hephaistos’ crooked smile. However, the murderous intent was taken back by him in an instant.
“Then, let me remind you. Before reminding me, do your own thing first.”
“Of course I will do my own thing.” Hephaistos held the USB up to him, “Don’t worry. You and I are in the same group.”
Helios didn’t respond to this “companion” who suddenly showed up. He didn’t look back at Hephaistos as he turned and left the dark alley.
“Brat.” Hephaistos clicked his tongue. He added an attribute to his previous impression of Helios in his mind.
The experimental kid that is difficult to deal with.
[Chapter 2]
Hephaistos never felt that BLACK SWAN was set in stone. Just 17 years before, there was a rift in the organization and the eventual addition of Ares and Hades was the fuse that completely detonated the rift.
Although BLACK SWAN did not appear to have any anomalies on the surface, the undercurrent surging underneath the surface had long been divided into two streams by an invisible boulder, both heading towards different goals.
When Hephaistos stood in front of the diverging boulder, he didn’t take much time to think before choosing his own direction. After all, compared with Hades’s paranoia, another “new world” was attractive to him.
Even if his companion was the experimental kid who is difficult to deal with.
Helios had settled into the organization earlier than him. As one of the main members of the plan, his influence became more and more prominent. The identity of “Kiro” was already a burden to him. Throwing it in the trash is one thing but the reality is another.
A Lincoln slowly drove out of the hall, flanked by crowds. In the crowds, everyone was blurred by the drizzling rain. Only the swinging flashlights in their hands were visible in the night.
“WE LOVE KIRO” *Made some word changes here* Hephaistos glanced out the window and said, “I didn’t understand you at your comeback concert before. Anyway, it was just a farce made by Anole to solve his problem. That’s it, there’s no need to re-enter the stage-life at all.”
Kiro’s comeback to the entertainment world is a major event. It caused a lot of waves and rippled even in BLACK SWAN. But, given that Helios himself has always been a maverick and is now the leader of the organization, everyone only dared to talk secretly. However, Hephaistos is different. He and Helios have had a cooperative relationship from the beginning. Even before the two met, Hephaistos would’ve been happy to dance on Helios’ minefield of a temper.
“Or, did you come back because you still want to enjoy being a big star? Is it fun for you to watch those young girls scream for you?”
“Shut up.” The man who was still smiling at the fans with an angelic smile was expressionless at this moment. When he heard this sentence, he did not raise his head and continued to tap the keyboard with his fingers.
“Ah, I understand.” Hephaistos suddenly thought of something and grinned. “You are all about that girl.”
Tap.
The crisp sound of the pressing of the ENTER key drowned out all the other sounds in the car cabin.
Helios looked at the calculation results displayed on the screen, his eyes dimmed: “I have my own considerations, and I don’t need others to interfere.”
“I’m not interfering. I’m just making small talk. I was bored anyway.” Hephaistos turned the steering wheel and drove steadily down the road. “Besides, I have to thank you for being “Kiro”, because otherwise, it would have been difficult for us to get an invitation for this banquet.”
Helios didn’t say anything. He quietly looked out the car window. A drizzle of rain ran across the glass, splitting his reflection in the window into countless fragments. At that moment, he no longer seemed to be a “Helios” nor a “Kiro”.
The two were silent for the rest of the way until the towering banquet building finally appeared in the night; like a dormant beast waiting for its prey to mindlessly walk into its trap. Helios just said in a low voice: “Since I’m going to act low-key this time, I can go in alone. You can station yourself outside.”
“No problem.” Hephaistos reminded Helios, “Leto’s tricks up his sleeve are almost all gone. It’s no surprise that this kind of madman will attempt anything at this banquet. Since you are going to bring QUEEN into this banquet, you must get her and bring her out.”
“Of course I will bring her out,” Helios replied, “As you said, everything we do is for the New World. In the New World Project, QUEEN is indispensable.”
Hephaistos smiled: “It is all for the New World….right?” He pressed the pedal, “The time is near. Go. Don’t let your little dance partner wait for you any longer.”
[Chapter 3]
The rain has stopped.
15 minutes have passed since Helios and QUEEN entered the lobby. However, fans and reporters crowded around and were not willing to disperse anytime soon. Hephaistos, who had not received his next command, continued to hide in the crowd and wait. From time to time, one or two conversations of passers-by floated in his ears, nothing more than that surrounding the dazzling star and his dancing partner.
“Unfortunately I couldn’t see what it looked like….”
“I seem to have taken a picture but something was blocking the view.”
“I really want to be Kiro’s dance partner too!”
Hephaistos raised the corners of his lips slightly. In the hall, everyone was so occupied with the scene in front of them, paying no mind to the trivial things in the outside world. Hephaistos didn’t know whether to think it ridiculous or sad. As he was looking around, there was a sudden scream coming from the door! *Took some liberties in translation here*
“What’s the matter?”
“What happened?!”
The reporters outside wanted to rush into the hall that was now filled with the scent of blood but were stopped by a line of uniforms that appeared out of nowhere. The perimeter of the building was quickly sealed off. A siege launched inward in an orderly fashion.
“Are the people from NW here too?” Hephaistos asked and a brief command came from his headset: “Leto has acted.”
“Can you handle it?”
“I was slightly delayed by Anole’s trick.” Helios’ sounded slightly out of breath, presumably because he was running, “He shifted into Leto’s form and garnered everyone’s attention. You don’t have to worry about the situation inside. Just wait outside.”
“No problem.” Hephaistos could faintly hear the screams from both his headset and from the inside. It was obvious that the situation inside was not as relaxed as Helios stated it to be. He stepped back slowly and informed Helios: “Right. People from the NW. Moving in soon.”
“....”
“You know?” Hephaistos was surprised for a moment but he also quickly figured it out. If Leto is gone, NW and the Task Force will naturally have to draw a clear line with the loser.
Everyone is in this melee, fighting for their own agendas. He is just a bystander in all this.
Hephaistos took advantage of the commotion and disappeared into the crowd.
Hephaistos didn’t wait long at the agreed pick-up location before he saw Helios walking over from the woods.
He is no longer the blonde he was when he was inside. His silver hair is sprinkled with star-dust like shimmer in the moonlight. It almost seems ethereal. The dried blood on his cheeks was the only indicator that he was in fact not an elven prince who came from the moon but rather a Shura* who had just returned from purgatory.
*Note about Shura from @keliosyfan*
The Shura that is mentioned is talking about the Buddhism demigod of war Asura. In Japanese, it's used to describe a person who has to fight an endless war against something in a relentless or inhumane manner. Hephaistos was making a comparison between how Helios (as blonde kiro) went into the banquet all nicely dressed and clean like an elven prince from the moon and then later came out with blood on his face (silver-haired Helios) as if he just fought some bloody battle which he probably did.
Continue
“Nailed it?”
“Leto escaped but he can’t go far.” Helios said faintly, “There is no way he can escape the dog.”
“Yeah. The rest is for the Task Force and they will have a headache. As long as our goal is achieved.”
Hephaistos asked, “Where is QUEEN?”
“Sent her back.” Helios pondered for a while and decided to share some more information.
“After her Evol was retrieved, her strength became even more powerful and there was not much time left for us.”
“I understand.” Hephaistos opened the door and motioned Helios to get in.
“Where to next?”
“Go to the temporary headquarters.”
After speaking, Helios climbed into the car. As he passed Hephaistos, Hephaistos suddenly noticed that the rain had stopped a while ago but Helios had water stains on his shoulders.
That seems to be….tears?
[Chapter 4]
The description of the bereaved dog is a bit too good. Under the first-hand news report of QUEEN and the live video uploaded by KEY, Leto’s true face was thoroughly exposed to the public’s eyes. As this is such sensational news, BLACK SWAN was naturally made aware of it.
At this time, many members of BLACK SWAN are on standby in the temporary base. Although they are scattered apart, the center of the crowd is still the young silver-haired man. It seems that wherever he is, he will be the most eye-catching light.
“I just got three pieces of news. One good, one bad, and one really bad. Which one do you want to hear first?”
“Say it if you want to, or shut up if you don’t.”
Hephaistos leaned against the wall and tsked boringly: “Then tell me the good news first. Artemis was also in the banquet hall at the time and was injured.”
Hearing that the members of the same group were injured, Helios didn’t even flinch: “Her life and death have nothing to do with us.”
“That’s true. As for the good news and the bad news, I’ll talk about them at the same time. The good news is that the Special Task Force has surrounded the orphanage. No matter how hard Leto struggles, he’s already dying. The really bad news is that even if he is dying, a dying beast may still be able to bite when crazy. He has threatened to kill all the kidnapped orphans if QUEEN won’t go to speak to him unaccompanied.” Hephaistos said this and paused deliberately.
“Don’t you worry about QUEEN?”
When he heard the word QUEEN, Helios’ icy appearance seemed to thaw slightly before it quickly froze once more. After a moment of silence, he replied briefly: “I believe in her.”
“Believe in her?” Hephaistos thoughtfully said, “Indeed, if you don’t believe in her, there will be no way to continue.”
He didn’t say anything. Now that QUEEN’s ability has been recovered, this is also an excellent opportunity to observe how much her power can grow.
Hephaistos glanced at a huge device placed behind him. Its shape stood out from the dark environment that it was in. If Hades’s “Return to Zero Plan” was his answer sheet, then this device is of their faction.
Hephaistos asked in a low voice, “When will our next step begin?”
“The next step is to be done by someone else.”
“Someone else? Is it me? I’m not good at this high-precision work.”
“Of course it’s not you.” Helios glanced at the time. “He’s almost there.”
Ten minutes later, the man Helios had in mind pushed the door open.
Hephaistos didn’t expect to see Ares, the traitor of BLACK SWAN, at the temporary base. He was astonished like everyone else for a moment. When he saw Helios’ unsurprising expression, he quickly calmed down.
Helios said that the person who will take over this next step is actually Ares? In other words, the two of them had been conspiring since a long time ago. He should’ve known sooner.
He even suspected that maybe Ares’ “rebellion” was also the plan made by these two.
Hephaistos looked at the man in black who had walked up to Helios step by step, his palms involuntarily started to sweat. He couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth rose.
Forget it. No matter what these two have in mind, as long as the goal is achieved, he didn’t care that Ares had returned once more.
After thinking about all of this, he coughed slightly and expressed his greeting first: “Ares, welcome back.”
[Chapter 5]
Leto disappeared. Hephaistos was a little surprised when he heard the news and felt it was reasonable.
As a member of the New World Project, he firmly believes that the power of QUEEN is the key to opening everything. No one can predict how huge a door this key can open and what kind of world will be behind that door. Leto’s disappearance is nothing more than a small experiment to test the power of QUEEN. When her power really breaks through, it will be….
Hephaistos turned his gaze back to his hand holding a photo.
Originally, he did a little research out of curiosity about that girl. He didn’t expect the results of his investigation to be so interesting.
The picture shows a couple embracing each other. Except for the man’s eye-catching silver hair, the two are no different from any other couple in the streets. The girl raised her face slightly, with a bright smile, while the man’s eyes were filled with indefinable affection. It was definitely not the expression that someone monitoring QUEEN should have. It was not for show but rather pure love straight from the heart.
Even Hephaistos, an outsider, can see the attraction and bond between the two.
“So,” Hephaistos whispered, “No wonder you didn’t let me be nosy at the amusement park. No wonder you insisted on taking her in during the banquet. And no wonder you would be so confident in her.”
Hephaistos once thought that loneliness was the true face of Helios, and the sunny “Kiro” on the screen was a mask he wore. But the soft murmur of the silver-haired youth in the car on the day of the banquet, the tears on his shoulders, and the photo in his hand completely broke this perception.
It seems that his impression of Helios can be rewritten again.
Hephaistos felt that until the arrival of the New World, he could use this observation as a leisurely pastime, adding a little bit of fun to being a bystander.
Even if you are in a chess game.
Plunk.
A soft sound from the device behind him interrupted Hephaistos’ thoughts. He walked towards the device and the flickering signal jumped between his pupils. For a while, he truncated through these light spots and saw the endless world.
Hephaistos smiled to himself.
Forget it. No matter what kind of lingering past, what kind of feelings, bond or obsessions Helios and QUEEN have, they will be crushed by the New World the moment they face the end of truth and evolution.
“This is real romance.” Hephaistos sighed and lit the photo without resignation, and threw it in the trash can.
[END]
#mlqc#mr love#mr love game#mr love kiro#mlqc kiro#mr love queen's choice#R&S translation#mlqc spoilers#zhou qiluo#move over Romeo and Juliet#Kiro and MC is where it's at now#I love this Hephaistos guy#I want more of him
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Zero O’Clock - Joshua Hong
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Summary: Your soulmate can hear you whenever you sing. After your life seems to fall apart, your once happy voice turned silent. Joshua worried, thinking of the worst when you opened up one last time.
Warnings: Depressed reader, kinda angsty?
Words: 2.8K
Genres: Angst, Soulmate AU
"Dude, you do the one thing you're good at. You sing to them."
~
Y/n, I expected better from you.
Your heart dropped as you read the note your professor left on your test, the failing grade glaring at you. You had really tried this time, but it was just hard to focus these days with everything going on.
Lately you only wanted to lie in bed and sleep away your life. It felt like things were all going bad every chance they got. Your mother was fighting cancer, and you couldn’t even see her due to the pandemic going on.
You were stuck inside your apartment, the only times you were supposed to leave were when it was absolutely necessary. Of course no one really listened to the rules, but you did. You didn’t mind staying home, you rather enjoyed the alone time.
That was going good until it started coming back. You were doing so good fighting off the depression until you were stuck alone with your thoughts every night. Your friends had tried to get you to come over to their place, but you didn’t feel like doing anything.
You’ve never felt so alone, and you couldn’t help but wonder what your soulmate was doing. Were they self isolating? Sure, their voice was in your head every now and then singing a song you had never heard before. It was in a completely different language than what you were used to, and it made you interested.
You had started to learn Korean a couple years ago thanks to them, but you stopped caring about it months ago. The books that once helped you sat on your small bookshelf, untouched.
You sat up straighter in your desk chair, closing the laptop that had the failing grade on it. You didn’t need to look at it right now. Hell, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyways. Your professor wasn’t one to give out retakes on tests. She was a one and done kind of teacher.
Your feet led you over to your keyboard, and you mindlessly trailed your fingers over the keys. You hadn’t played in a while, and you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmate had began to worry. It’s been weeks since you last sang anything, which was unusual to your daily one person concerts you used to hold.
You played a familiar tune, and your lips started moving before you could do anything about it. “How can you miss someone you’ve never met? ‘Cause I need you now but I don’t know you yet.”
You had missed the feeling of playing the piano. It was the only thing that gave you a sense of comfort nowadays, and letting out your emotions through a song was always helpful to you.
It’s not like you thought you were the best singer out there, but you new you weren’t terrible at it. “But can you find me soon because I’m in my head? Yeah, I need you know but I don’t know you yet.”
-
“Cause lately it’s been hard. They’re selling me for parts, and I don’t want to be modern art. But I only got half a heart to give to you.”
Joshua stopped what he was doing, moving the phone from his face to focus on the words echoing throughout his head. He wanted to smile, hearing your voice for the first time in weeks, but the words processed quickly and he realized that it was different than before. It was no longer like fun songs the two of you sang back and forth.
He could tell, not only from the lyrics, but from the way you were singing that it was serious. He had been worried about you for the past couple of weeks, and this song told him that what he feared was now reality.
“Are you alright hyung?” Seokmin’s voice brought him back for a second, your voice becoming a soft echo as he tried to pay attention to the game once more. He failed. “Is it your soulmate?”
“Are they finally singing again?” Wonwoo asked, taking a seat beside him one the couch. Of course he told the guys about his worries. They were quick to assure him that everything would be fine, but now he couldn’t be so sure.
“Yeah, but it’s different this time.” He sighed, throwing his head back in defeat. “They’re sad, and I can tell by the way they’re singing that they’re crying.”
“What are you gonna do?” Vernon asked, moving his attention to the situation his friend was currently facing.
Joshua turned to glance at him. “What can I do? I have no idea who this person is, let alone where to begin to find them.”
“Dude, you do the one thing you’re good at.” Jeonghan wrapped an arm around the younger boys shoulders. “You sing to them.”
“Should I be offended?” Joshua trailed off, unsure wether or not his friend was joking. Jeonghan gave him a sly smirk before shoving him off the couch and onto his feet.
Joshua got the message and walked out of the living room. He made his was down the hall and into their small music room. As he closed the door, hundred of songs came to his mind, but one stood out in particular. It was one that he thought would help motivate you.
As his fingers trailed over the keys of the piano, playing the song from memory, he found himself singing the words that helps him on his off days. He could only hope that you were awake, listening to the words he had to sing.
“Mwonga dallajilkka. Geureon geon anil geoya. Geuraedo I haruga. Kkeunnajana.” He sang softly, not only because it was late for him, but he didn’t want to startle you if you happened to still be awake.
“Chochimgwa. Bunchimi Gyeopchil ttae. Sesangeun aju jamkkan sumeul chama. Zero o’clock.”
Joshua wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you everything was going to be alright, but for now his voice would have to comfort you in ways he wasn’t able to.
-
“And you’re gonna be happy.”
You couldn’t help the tears falling as you curled up in your bed, listening to the soft voice of your soulmate. It had been a couple days since hearing their voice, and it was refreshing.
You could place a couple of the words they were saying, but most of them had you lost, but it didn’t matter. Their voice alone was enough to calm you.
Oh how you wanted to meet them. You wanted nothing more than to talk to them and thank them for always being there for you, especially now. They had been giving you words of encouragement, through songs of course.
However, you couldn’t help but feeling even more sad now. How were you supposed to find your soulmate when they were most likely in a completely different country than you? And even if you did find out where they lived how would you even go about finding them?
You had no idea who they were, or where to even begin searching. The thought of never being able to find them only made your depression worse, and you were scared of being alone for the rest of your life.
In reality, that was your biggest fear; being on your own forever.
“Turn this all around. Modeun ge saeroun Zero O’Clock.”
-
Eight months later.
Your soulmate never stopped singing to you. They sang the same songs over and over again, but late at night they sang only to you, a different song every night to help you through it.
You started to feel better, and as the pandemic eased off you were able to see your mother once again. She looked the same as before, and her cheery attitude hadn’t changed a bit. It was refreshing seeing her once more. The FaceTime sessions didn’t do anything justice.
You had began to slowly find your determination, and even though you were still failing your classes you were still trying more. Your once failing grade turned into a barely passing one, which was better to you. You even started hanging out with your friends after everyone was able to go back to normal, and it was nice getting out again. It kept your mind off things.
So here you were, walking around with your mom and having a good time. She was discharged from the hospital quickly after the pandemic was slowing down, but you still had to wait for the okay to actually see her. That meant getting tested, and boy did you hate it.
After the two of you had lunch, you started a small walk around town, talking about everything that happened in the passed year that you had been separated from one another.
“Are your classes getting better?” She asked, taking a sip from her tea.
You nodded with a smile. “They’re getting easier.”
You had even picked up back on learning Korean, and it was a lot more fun now that you were back into the subject.
“I’m doing a lot-“ You cut yourself off, hearing a familiar song playing from one of the stores around you. Your mother quirked an eyebrow as you walked over to the store, the name KpopTown shining bright.
“Uh, excuse me, could you tell me who sings this song?” You asked the girl working. She beamed brightly at the mention of the song, clearly ready to talk about it.
“Oh! This is Home Run by Seventeen. It’s from their newest album.” She explained happily. “They’re having a concert today, so I figured I’d get into the carat spirit.”
You had no idea what she was talking about, but you quickly thanked her and walked back over to your mom, who was giving you a confused look. “What was that about?”
You shook your head, rubbing the small tattoo on your wrist. You had gotten it as soon as the shops had opened back up, and you were quick to get the words ‘One Day’ on your skin as a permanent reminded that everything would be okay.
It came from your soulmate. They had been singing it over and over, and you had quickly placed together that they were writing this song for you. You had cried for hours that day, the fact that they cared about you so much before even meeting you getting to you quickly. The part that really got to you was the song was in English, which meant they wrote it just so you could understand them.
“So you found them huh?” Your eyes snapped over to your mother, who was now smiling happily.
“What?” You asked. “How do you-“
“That look in your eyes darling.” She explained, turning to look at you with a look of happiness. “I had that same look when I found your father.”
“I haven’t found them yet.”
“But you know how to find them.” She clarified. She was right, you did know how to find them, but did you really want to? Of course you did, but there was only one way for sure to actually find them. That was to go to the venue before they had their concert. “Go. Go find your soulmate.”
“Mom are you-“
“I’ll be fine Y/n. You’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and who knows when you’ll get the next chance to meet them.”
Kissing your mother of the cheek quickly, you said your goodbyes before calling a cap and telling the where to go. Along the drive, you looked up where they would be holding the concert, just to make sure you were right. You also looked up a picture of the group, your eyes focusing on one in particular.
They were a Kpop group, and one that was doing well at that. It began to make sense as to why he would sing the same songs over and over again, and you wanted to hit yourself for not figuring it out before.
His name was Joshua Hong, and he was actually from LA too. He had moved years ago after being signed into a company that would eventually bring him to the group he was in today. You had to listen to a clip of him singing, and after the first note you knew it was him.
You could feel the tears building up as you neared the stadium, the cheers of the fans surrounding the entrance coming into your line of vision.
After paying the driver, you got out and rushed into the crowd, who was shouting out names of the other members. You paid them no mind as they cursed at you for pushing yourself to the front. You were the only one that wasn’t screaming as you finally pushed through, your eyes moving faster than ever to try and find him.
Then, the van door opened and they started walking out. Time seemed to stop as Joshua got out of the van, and followed his friends towards the door. You couldn’t find the courage to say anything until he was almost out of your vision.
“One day!” You called out, making him stop in his tracks. It gave you a little bit of hope to call out once more, reciting more lyrics. “I’ll find you one day and everything will be okay!”
He turned around, eyes instantly locking with yours. A look of realization crossed his expression before he was pulled inside completely and out of your sight.
Defeated, you waited for the crowd to die down, the group of girls leaving since their idols were no longer anywhere to be found. You took a seat beside the wall, bringing your knees up to your chest to rest your head on them.
Once everyone was gone and out of sight, the door opened and a head popped out. “Hey.”
Your head looked up to find one of the boys in the group. He nodded towards you, silently telling you to come here. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take you to him.”
Your eyes softened at his words. You quickly placed him as Vernon, the only other native English speaker from the group. He opened the door wider, motioning for you to come in, and without hesitation, you did.
“I’m Vernon.” He introduced himself as he lead you through the stadium, taking the back way to where Joshua was.
“Y/n.”
He stopped in front of a door that would lead you to the person you’d been waiting to meet for years. The only thing that stood between you and your soulmate was a damn door.
Vernon opened it, and everyone inside stood up to look at you as you walked in. Joshua’s eyes met yours, and the world seemed to fade away. It was a new feeling, but you knew exactly what it meant thanks to your friends. This was the feeling people got when they finally meet their soulmate. Time slows down and it becomes just the two of you for a couple of seconds.
When everything came back, you realized the rest of the group was gone, probably giving the two of you the alone time you deserved.
Joshua stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, bringing you in for a much needed hug. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and you clutched to his shirt like your life depended on it. For so long you had waited for this moment, and it was finally here. You had finally met your soulmate.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed it.”
You pulled back, never removing yourself from his arms. You gave him a smile. “But you were there for me, even if you weren’t there.”
You pulled one of your hands back, showing him the tattoo you had gotten first chance you’d gotten. His eyes widened and his fingers trailed over the permanent ink, a smile forming on his lips.
“Your song helped me more than you could ever know.”
He pulled you back in for another hug. He rested his cheek on top of your head. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
You felt the tears building up once more, but for a change they were happy tears. Your heart swelled up, but it was a good feeling this time. Everything was going to be okay, and for once you were excited for the future.
“Me too.”
#joshua hong#seventeen#imagine#seventeen x reader#joshua x reader#fluff#soulmate au#svt#carat#joshua hong x reader#fluff imagine
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let’s get it! it’s chey ( she/her ), bringing you wishbone’s act #2, paksae. he’s an indie artist with heavy influence from the bedroom pop & chillwave micro-genres, as you can gather from his three official singles at the moment: cassette, karma & late night movie. if discord is more convenient for you, you can add me there ( stream do or not#1490 ), but otherwise, i’m usually reachable in ims! here are saejin’s links : career / stats / plots / pinterest, and hopefully all the other information you need will be found below.
the story.
saejin was lucky enough to be born into a relatively happy family, albeit a small one. both parents are only children, so he didn’t have aunts, uncles or cousins, and only his maternal grandparents were heavily involved with the family, but it was alright! lower middle class, mom who made him watch bird documentaries, dad who had a face made out of stone, but there was still a lot of love. it was nice.
the first big change happened when his little sister ( saebyeol ) was born. her existence put a tragic end to his legacy as the park family’s number one baby, considering she’s a whole eight years younger than him.
in the next year, his mom was diagnosed with a chronic illness; one that would see her rapidly going in and out of hospitals for years to come, so the days of naïve happiness were over for saejin. from that point on, it was about “cherishing every moment” and “living life to the fullest” and “not wasting breath on things that can’t be changed”.
aka his mom’s circumstances meant that he was constantly getting scolded by doctors, rns, family friends, his dad, whoever for displaying negative emotions. was shut down a lot, told that he was being a hassle and that he needed to make things easier for his mom. learned to suppress his emotions unless they were positive.
but while most adults in his life were trying to teach him how to be realistic and approach life with an understanding that nothing is easy, his mom worked hard to do the exact opposite. constantly pushed him to chase his dreams because life is so short, and when he decided that he was going to pursue music, she was the first person to tell him to go for it and give it his all.
got his first guitar at age 14, which is when he started writing his own songs and messing around with editing software, but it wasn’t until 2015 that he started playing his music for people. started in coffee shops ( at this point, his songs were entirely acoustic ), then started playing in clubs in hongdae, which is when he started experimenting with his sound. struggled to gain attention. can’t think of what it’s called rn, but there’s a set amount of tickets that opening acts have to sell to earn their spot in a lineup; saejin’s parents and close friends usually bought a tonnn to help him out because strangers wouldn’t give him the time of day. a nobody. hung out after his sets to meet people, but nobody wanted to meet him. pain.
popularity steadily grew over time, and by late 2019, he was in talks with wishbone records. by the new year, he was a signed artist.
assumed that having a record deal guaranteed International Stardom, so you can imagine his surprise when his first music video hardly gained 5k views in the entire debut week... it was an eye-opening experience for him. realized that the grind was, in fact, not over yet.
his popularity is on a steady incline, but he still isn’t anywhere close to being a household name. very lowkey. he pretends that he doesn’t care, but it eats away at him. spends most of his time in his studio nowadays, trying to create a song that will pull him into the charts. becoming more distant from his parents because he’s so caught up in work, so that’ll probably come back around to bite him in the ass eventually but yk... oh well.
saebyeol is the only family member whom he couldn’t distance himself from if she tried because she’s a parasite. always at his apartment or blowing up his phone, which drives him absolutely crazy because her favorite pastime is ruthlessly bullying him. she’s a little demon.
the character.
park saejin, aka PAKSAE. ‘97. seoulite. soloist.
social introvert. he prefers to spend time alone and usually doesn’t seek company, but if he’s approached first, he’s a relatively open book. forms bonds quickly.
gets unreasonably attached to his friends in short periods of time, so he tries to keep his circle small. he can only deal with wondering why three people aren’t texting him back in a single day: any more than that and he spirals.
pretty optimistic view of life, i think. could’ve become jaded due to his mom’s situation, but she’s made huge efforts to keep his worries minimal and be the best role model she can be in her circumstances. has tried to instill a “life is short, so embrace every moment with open arms” mentality in both of her kids, which saejin picked up on a whole lot more than his little sister has. you probably wouldn’t assume this by listening to his Pity Party Songs ( as saebyeol puts it ), but he’s a happy guy!
on the topic of his pity party songs, all three of his singles so far are a bit sad/melancholic, detailing looking back on the ending of something. he rarely expresses sadness or regret in his day-to-day life, but he considers music to be an outlet. the one place he can be as real as he wants without being criticized. ( that’s what he thought before, anyway. nowadays, he’s constantly getting comments about how nobody wants to listen to him cry about his breakups. fair enough. )
his appearance contradicts his personality. on the outside, he seems like a very loud, expressive person: vibrant colors, unusual materials ( silk chiffon, organza, velvet, etc ), lots of accessories such as gaudy rings, y2k-style beaded necklaces & polymer clay earrings that he probably buys from etsy. but he’s really, really chill & soft-spoken, tries to blend in even though it’s... impossible when he looks the way that he does.
gets most of his social interaction through the sporadic gigs that he plays. on stage, he’s highly expressive and interactive with his fans. when i think of his stage presence, i think of artists like lauv & troye sivan: he utilizes all of his stage space, even when performing more mellow songs. doesn’t want to just stand around and bore his audience. but nowadays, he rarely waits around to meet people because he’s become even more introverted than he was before. in his day-to-day life, there are only about three people whom he contacts frequently and always shows up for. otherwise, his connections are situational: associates the people in his life with certain places, things or activities and rarely meets up with them outside those situations. prefers to communicate through texts or social media messages if he can, but even then, if you aren’t one of his three closest friends, it’s difficult to reach him unless he needs or wants something.
but even tho he’s SUCH a loner... he’s what i like to call a serial romantic. not on a dating ban and also not that popular anyway, so he goes on a lot of dates. blind dates, tinder dates, whatever. texting his friends like “i think i’m in love” twice a month but he’s never talking about the same person. wears a heart-shaped rose quartz pendant to try to manifest meeting his soulmate but he doesn’t want to be clowned for believing in the power of crystals/stones ( or for being so obsessed with love even though it’s OBVIOUS if you listen to his music ) so he says he just wears it ‘cause it’s nice to look at.
his stage name, 박새, is a type of bird. it’s usually stylized as paksae, so most people don’t question it much, but eventually his intl fanbase got curious about what it means and popped the hangul into a translator: lo and behold, he’s now “affectionately” referred to by fans in english-speaking regions as tit. it isn’t saebyeol’s fault but he’s definitely found a way to blame her for it.
if you go to any of his music videos, you will find numerous comments from paksaeanti05. that’s saebyeol. usually she’s hating on him, but if anyone ELSE tries to hate on him, she turns into a keyboard warrior. she’s his biggest critic and his most loyal supporter.
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You guys really liked the first transcription I did, so here’s the PopBuzz interview of Joe Dempsie, Jacob Anderson, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, and Gwendoline Christie known for revealing her anxiety over kazoos.
Joe and Jacob attempt to play the GoT theme on kazoos and fail spectacularly, breaking out in laughter.
Interviewer: Nikolaj and Gwendoline!
Nikolaj: Yes.
I: How are you?
Nik: We’re good.
Gwendoline: Scared about that kazoo.
I: Yeah. Oh, you’ve noticed the kazoo? Yeah.
Gwen starts laughing.
This interview is only five minutes but I think I’ve aged like five years transcribing it. Anyways, I had to put a “keep reading” because there’s so much dialogue. These lovelies are so chatty, it’s adorable. <3
I: Well, to celebrate the final season of Game of Thrones, we’re gonna challenge you to a quiz.
Nik: Okay.
Gwen: Okay.
I: Okay. Your opponents are gonna be Joe and Jacob.
Overlapping:
Jacob: I’m gonna try and take that.
Joe: I mean, if I were you—I mean, (laughs) I would set the bar low and then you’ll never be disappointed.
I: Yeah.
Joe: Set the bar low.
I: Exactly.
Gwen: (about Jacob and Joe) I bet they’re really good.
I: The prize we’re playing for is this lovely picture of Ned Stark.
Overlapping:
Jacob: I want it.
Joe: I have to have it.
I: It glimmers and everything.
Jacob: But how would we work out who gets to keep it? ‘Cause I want it.
Joe: Well—well—(stuttering)
Jacob: Actually, I want it, I’d get it.
Overlapping:
I: Custody six months of the year. Okay.
Jacob: Okay, okay, let’s win first.
Joe: (mumbling)
Gwen: I’m worried about the kazoo...
I: Alright, question one: in order, name the for characters that occupied the throne since episode one.
Joe: Robert Baratheon.
Just out of sync:
Joe: Joffrey Baratheon.
Jacob: Joffrey.
Both: Tommen. Cersei.
I: Yes, that’s it. One point.
Nik: Okay, uh, Robert Baratheon, uh...Joffrey, uh, Baratheon, (muffled as the screen zooms in on a confused Gwen) Tommen Baratheon, Cersei Lannister.
I: Yes. Can you name the dragon?
Nik: I can’t.
I: It’s the one that everyone forgets.
Joe: I don’t know—I’ve got nothing.
Gwen: (extremely unsure) Drogon?
I: Begins with an “R”...
Jacob: Rhaegal!
I: Yes! (to Nik and Gwen) The other one...
Gwen: The other one.
I: Which is...
Nik: Hehrhorna.
Look...I tried.
Gwen bursts out laughing.
I: (laughing) It’s Rhaegal!
Nik: Oh.
I: Third question; this is the Dothraki round. Do either of you know any Dothraki?
Joe: Personally?
I: The language, do you speak?
Joe: (laughing) Oh, right, oh.
Overlapping:
Jacob: Like, Valyr—Valyrian’s not the same, no. So, no.
I: People. No. Alright. Can you tell me what this word means in English.
She holds up a sign with “Zhavorsa” on it.
Nik: Zhavorsa.
I: What does it mean in English.
Nik: Oh!
Joe: Uh...
Jacob: J’ava—j’ava horse, sir?
Without the British accent the phrase is “Do you have a horse, sir?”
Both laugh.
Joe: J’ava horse, sir?
Jacob: (stutters) J’ava horse, sir?
Joe, Jacob, and the interviewer laugh.
Nik: That means...
Gwen: I’m scared of the kazoo.
Nik: (laughs) It means—
Gwen: That’s what it means.
Nik: —welcome
I: It means... (pulls out the picture of Rhaegal)
Nik: Oh. Dragon.
I: Dragon!
Joe and Jacob groan in sync.
Joe: Have we won yet?
I: No. Alright, the next round is a “Who said it?” round. You just need to tell me (tiny pause for dramatic affect) who said it. “If you ever call me sister again I’ll have you strangled in your sleep.”
Nik: (to Gwen) So do we just discuss this to ourselves?
Gwen: (quietly, to Nik) Is it Ramsay Bolton?
Jacob: Uh, that was Cersei that said it. She said it to Margaery.
I: She did.
In sync:
I: Yeah.
Jacob: Yeah.
I: Excellent.
Jacob: Good line.
I: “If you think this has a happy ending you haven’t been paying attention.”
Jacob: That (very quiet whisper to Joe) feels like—it feels like a Tyrion.
Overlapping:
Gwen: It’s Varys, or Littlefinger.
Nik: No, Tyrion. It’s Tyrion.
Gwen: Tyrion.
Nik: Tyrion.
Gwen: Tyrion.
I: Nope, that was Ramsay Bolton.
Gwen: (bleeped out) Fuck myself.
I: “Has anyone ever told you you’re as boring as you are ugly?”
Jacob laughs.
Gwen: Yes they have.
She laughs uproariously.
Joe: The Hound would probably say that.
I: No, it was Jaime to Brienne!
Joe: Oh!
I: Yeah.
Gwen: (mumbles) Has he said it to me? Was it—
I: Yeah. Jaime said it to Brienne.
Gwen: Yeah, yeah.
Nik: Oh, really?
Gwen: I was right! I was right! I was right!
I: One point! I have one kazoo. One of you sh—needs to play the tune—
Gwen: I’m not touching it.
I: —theme tune.
Joe: You do that bit, alright?
Joe and Jacob do part of their spectacular rendition of the GoT theme song.
Gwen: I’ve—I’ll actually go into anaphylactic shock if I have to have anything to do with the kazoo.
Nik plays a little bit of the theme tune.
Gwen: (as he’s playing) This is so wonderful. (to someone off-camera, who presumably brought over the kazoos) Thanks for this.
Nik: Was that good?
I: Perfect! I’m gonna give you five points.
Joe and Jacob are still playing the theme tune.
Joe: Why’d I pick this bit.
The guys continue playing until they look at each other and burst into laughter, along with the interviewer.
I: I’m gonna give you double, that’s ten points right there.
Jacob: Yeah!
Joe: Amazing.
I: Perfect. The last round. Thirty seconds. Can you name all nine of the great houses of Westeros.
Gwen: No.
Nik: Okay?
Joe: Stark. Baratheon. Greyjoy.
Nik: The Lannister, Stark, Targaryen...
Joe: Bolton.
I: Nope, they’re not on there.
Overlapping:
Jacob: They’re not—they’re not a legitimate—not a legitimate house.
Joe: Oh. Not a great house. Not a legit house.
Nik: ...Greyjoys, Tyrell, Frey...
Jacob: The...fijermajidits. (irl keyboard smash.) The Fragles.
Gwen: I’m anxious about the kazoo.
Nik: The kazoo is out!
Overlapping:
I: The kazoo is gone!
Gwen: Well, I can’t—!
Joe, Jacob, and the interviewer are laughing.
Joe: (unintelligible)...Fraggle Rock.
Jacob: House—House Fraggles.
I: Time! Time, time, time, time. You did well. You missed, uh, Arryn and Martell.
Nik: Alright, how many points do we have?
Jacob: The Arryns.
I: You, I can safely say, are the winners of the Ned Stark picture. Congratulations. Do you wanna do a speech?
Jacob: Amazing.
Joe: Thank you.
Jacob: Do we actually get to keep it?
I: You can keep it, yeah.
Jacob: Um.
Joe: I’d just, uh, like to—personally say this is the—the greatest moment of my—life.
Jacob: Yeah. Professional life, as well.
Joe: Just life and, uh, I’ll look at this forever.
Jacob: Yeah.
Joe: Thank you.
I: Perfect.
Jacob: Thank you.
I: Thank you so much.
Gwen: Thank you to—my team.
Nik snorts and Gwen bursts out laughing.
#gwendoline christie#nikolaj coster waldau#joe dempsie#jacob anderson#got#got s8#got cast#game of thrones#nikolaj coster-waldau#game of thrones cast#interview#popbuzz#game of thrones season 8
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Recommend some good folk metal music please
:D i never thought i’d see the day when someone actually wants to know more about the music i listen to *cracks knuckles* my time has come
I apologize in advance for this novel. Feel free to skip to the recommended tracks lol.
Most folk metal comes out of northern Europe (Finland, heavily) though you can find it all over the world (Hu Band comes to mind but I mean, it’s on every continent). I am one of those people with like, a small handful of favorite bands that I listen to mercilessly so I am sure that I am only representing a miniscule percentage of what’s available out there. What’s great is that folk metal is much more versatile than many other genres in its sound; the essence of folk metal is simply to 1) utilize traditional (or rather, in the sense of a metal band, non-traditional) instruments such as violin, accordion, brass ensemble, bagpipes, what have you, and 2) have lyrical themes which revolve around regional folklore, mythology, cultural heritage, or place (what I particularly like is a frequent reverence and respect for nature). Other genres of metal (death, black) have the second element but not the first, and tend to incorporate darker overall tones and consistently harsher or lo-fi vocal styles and sounds. Folk metal can be a gateway genre into metal and can often be quite hopepunk (if you will). Because of these criteria, the actual sound of folk metal can range from sea shanties to ‘spooky walk in the midnight woods’ to scathing social commentary to SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SH
Basically you can find a range of styles within the genre that fit what you’re looking for, from those that have an orchestral, ballad feel, to things that border on death metal but have a hurdy-gurdy in there. There’s also a much higher percentage of female-led folk metal bands than other metal genres.
I’ll go through my top picks.
Turisas. These motherfuckers. My boys.
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Turisas is based in Finland, but sing primarily in English (with occasional Finnish, a smidge of Greek and Swedish too). Four albums out to date, fifth in progress. Sound is absolutely fucking bonkers god tier shit, if I may say so myself. Every single song sounds like you’ve been transported into an Iliad metal musical. Heavy use of a full orchestra and choir, along with sick violin and accordion solos. Their lyrical themes focus heavily on ancient Greco-Roman and Viking military history - but before you raise any red flags, rest assured they’re liberal as fuck and trust me the tea is scalding when Mathias feels like making a Point about Then and Now. No seriously, I don’t know how to express the beauty and depth of his songwriting - Mathias Nygård is an incredibly talented composer, musician, and songwriter (nay, POET), and an extremely intelligent and down to earth guy. There are plenty of bands that are happy to write Viking songs about pillaging and glorious death in battle and all that (Alestorm comes to mind), those are a dime a dozen. Turisas makes history come to life in a way that transports you back in time and thrusts you into the living breathing world of the past. They deal with the horrors and tragedy of war from both sides, consequences and motivations, fears and pride and loss, home and family, despair and hope. They write songs about people, big and small, and their role in weaving the great tapestry of history. And the best part is that it’s informed - Mathias does his damn research and the tales he tells are rooted in fact. He brings them to life so we can experience what it must have been like for those real living people, with the goal of forcing us to confront our own selves in them. He’s a modern Homer, I shit you not.
Did I mention there’s a song about pirates that’s actually really complex and nuanced, about how the hypocrisy and vile colonialist deeds of emperors makes them no different than the criminals they persecute?
Or that they do a badass cover of Rasputin?? yeah?????
Anyway enough gushing. Their second and third albums (The Varangian Way, Stand Up And Fight) are consecutive concept albums that follow the story of the Varangian Guard (the legendary Viking battalion that defended Alexander the Great) so the songs are actually chronologically linked to tell this epic tale. It’s a fucking listen, lads. The Varangian Way is probably my favorite album. But all their albums are top notch.
My favorite songs: End of An Empire (this one comes for 2020 hard), Piece by Piece (AKA die fascists 2k20), Cursed Be Iron, Among Ancestors, Greek Fire, Miklagard Overture (you gotta earn this song tho, it’s the finale)
Good first listen picks/hits: Battle Metal, To Holmgard and Beyond, March of the Varangian Guard, Ten More Miles, One More
Finntroll. These other motherfuckers. My other boys.
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Another big name in the Finnish folk metal scene. As you can see, their band revolves both aesthetically and musically around Scandinavian troll folklore. Yall weird elf-fuckers who like the really big ears? Here you go. Look at those ears. They’re good friends with Turisas. Both love their facepaint.
Musical style leans much more towards black and death metal influenced, with a heavier, fuller sound and growling vocals. But it’s an incredibly rich and creative aural tapestry, with layers of masterfully executed sound that’s a real delight to lose yourself in. Use of fiddle, brass, keyboard, accordion, and banjo, and strong folk melodies make their sound unmistakable and unique. They are known for their ‘black humppa’ beat, which basically gives the effect of feeling the primal need to stomp around loudly to their music. It’s great cardio. They also utilize orchestra in some great intro tracks. They know their stuff.
The majority of their songs are sung in Swedish (they do some English cover songs which are FANTASTIC holy SHIT), but don’t let that stop you. The mood and power and emotion of their music transcend language, and you can be sure the lyrics are about either trolls, witches, the dark woods, spirits, or something of that ilk. I think Swedish as a language works very well with this kind of music, and honestly having it in English would lose something.
They have been around a long time and so have many albums, but I personally have only listened to the last three which feature their current singer, Mathias Lillmåns, whom I adore. Those albums are Nifelvind, Blodsvept, and their recent release Vredesvävd (that i’ve had on repeat since I got it three weeks ago). I’m sure their other ones are great too, I just can’t make a personal recommendation since I haven’t heard them.
My favorite songs: Galgasång, Tiden Utan Tid, Ylaren, Skogsdotter, Två Ormar, Ett Norrskensdåd, Skövlarens Död
Good first listen picks/hits: Forsen, Under Bergets Rot, Häxbrygd, Trollhammaren (older song), Solsagan
I’ll go through these other ones a little faster, I haven’t heard quite as much from them but I do love them.
Korpiklaani.
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Great, full folk sound, utilizes a lot of folk instruments including some less commonly seen ones like hurdy gurdy. Songs are mostly in Finnish but plenty in English too. Jonne Järvelä has a really unique voice that grows on you, but it’s not for everyone. The band started as Sami folk, and Jonne is trained in Sami yoik singing, which makes an appearance in a few songs. I prefer the Finnish tracks, as a lot of the English ones are drinking songs lmao. But again, really well-executed music with layers of sound that keeps you hooked. I haven’t heard enough of their discography to really recommend enough to cover everything.
Song picks: Minä Näin Vedessä Neidon, Metsälle, Ämmänhauta, Lempo
Moonsorrow.
Definitely a darker, black-folk band. Probably not a great pick if you aren’t accustomed to black metal - very long tracks (8-15 mins is standard), growling/shrieking vocals, a ‘thinner’ but encompassing wall of sound usual of black metal, but with the benefit of wonderfully entrancing dark folk elements and chants. It’s done really really well. Sung almost entirely in Finnish (apart from cover tracks). Lyrically, focuses on themes of Norse mythology, man vs nature and similar elements. Definitely one of those bands whose music gets you into a zone. I can lose serious time just putting a whole album on and letting my mind wander elsewhere. My favorite album is Jumalten Aika.
Song picks: Ruttolehto Sis. Päivättömän Päivän Kansa (my fucking FAVORITE), Suden Tunti (well known hit), and also uhh check out their cover of Non Serviam cause it’s a fucking banger
Other bands that I like what I’ve heard but really can’t say much about them, whoops - Tyr (from the Faroe Islands, great stuff, Faroese is a baller language), Ensiferum, Nightwish (female-led).... I’m open to suggestions. Like I said, there are folk metal bands all over the world, and each is intrinsically linked to a sense of place and cultural identity that makes them unique. I’d love to hear about more tbh.
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Blackmore and Powell's friendship pt III {The last lap}
Well, first of all, thanks to everyone for supporting this mini series (just three post omg) of Cozy and Ritchie's friendship. They were so cute and I think they didn't realize how goals they were....
Also, this part will be more long than the others because it's the last one and because there's a lot to cover in this last lap.
Making 'Down To Earth'
Making that album was important for those two because they were in their own. The band, in a certain way, was no longer Ritchie's band.. Although Ritchie will never admit it, without Cozy's help Down To Earth and his successful career after Cozy left, would have been a little more difficult. Without mentioning that Cozy discovered Joe Lynn Turner.
As Cozy quoted in his 1982 interview.
"He [Ritchie] seems to have more success with Rainbow since I left. I'm really glad for him. -Cozy (Kerrang! 1982)
But returning to the point... As the two dorks were men in charge, due to pulling the new Rainbow out, they had to be closer to each other more than they used to and spending more time together under a lot of stress. Perhaps that was the reason why their friendship quickly wore off.
Anyway... time for quotes! I'll put first the 'Making Down To Earth' quotes and then the 'Woring off friendship' quotes.
"After a while we were going crazy, we couldn't find anybody at all. Then Roger Glover said, 'Well, what about me?' Ritchie asked me what I thought as I'd have to work with the guy and I said, 'Fair enough, I'll give it. try, once I start playing I can never hear anybody else anyway.' So Roger became the bass player." -Cozy. (1979)
(Ritchie knew Roger for years and still he asked to Cozy what he thought about Rog...it shows you that Cozy's opinion was important to Ritchie)
"All the members we've got are very competent at what they do. Don's been playing keyboards for years, Roger's an accomplished bass player, Graham's a great singer... all I've got to do is teach Ritchie a few new chords and we'll be alright." -Cozy (Sounds 1979)
(A little of English humor for y'all. I'll skip the quote where Ritchie says that he would loved having that laugh with Cozy because you already know that one. Where Ritchie tacitly said that he miss Cozy)
Now, the quotes about their, as Cozy called it, battle of wits.
"Cozy and I, we're always trying to outsmart each other. He's a very fast person, him with his cars. Me, with my medieval music, he hasn't got a clue where I'm coming from. So we have our differences, but when we're on stage we click because he wants to be the best drummer and I want to be the best guitarist." -Ritchie (Melody Maker or Sounds 1979)
The next two quotes are from the same paragraph but I divided them because... yes.
"Ritchie and I have argued about their [Graham, Don and Roger] inclusion, well, we have a lot of arguments anyway as you can well imagine. When we don't agree over certain things, he usually wins because it's his band, he started it all in the first place, so I'm not going to knock that. But I will make my opinions heard." -Cozy (Pelo 1979)
Cozy was very strong-willed, also a little stubborn but he'll never lose the respect for Ritchie and his baby as you can well read.
"I'll say what I think to Ritchie and he respects me for it. I think the only reason that I'm still a member of Rainbow is that Ritchie knows that I'll beat him up if he fires me. So we have differences of opinion - in fact it nearly came to fisticuffs at one point in Geneva - but at the end of the day it's usually OK, we have a few drinks and make it up. But it's good all the same, it's healthy. We're men enough to know that united we stand, divided we don't necessarily fall but it's not going to be so easy. So if we stick together we could end up conquering the world. Which'd be nice, wouldn't it?" -Cozy (Pelo 1979)
Awwwww, Cozy... you two already did. He softie.
"We disagree about a lot of things, although we tend to agree upon the end result. I do feel uncomfortable with him in some situations, but we do treat each other with a great deal of respect." -Ritchie (Sounds 1979)
You... you toxic dorks. I'd love to know what that 'Uncomfortable' means.
"I've had thoughts about leaving Rainbow every other month. It's easier to quit, but harder to keep going - and I don't believe in giving up. Ritchie must have been thinking 'I wonder how much longer he's going to take this?' while I was thinking 'how much more can he put up with me?' - it was a battle of wits. This is reflected in the way we play, very aggressive; but in the end we've got great respect for each other." -Cozy (Sounds or Melody Maker 1980) (they in the two interviews say the same so sometimes i get confused but trust me hasha)
I think they were just tired of each other but not tired of being friends but being band mates and driving force.
BUT, although their fights and arguments and all. Ritchie still cared about Cozy. (I'll put a sweet quote just for change the bad taste in mouth of the other quotes)
"I'm speaking for myself and that night I was very sensitive, as in fact I always am, but on that night I felt I could not come across to the audience and I was disgusted with what I was doing. So I came off and I said to Cozy: "Shall we do an encore?" He was very mentally brought down, he'd just done his solo, and so I decided not to do an encore. The whole thing about doing an encore is that it should come from your inner self." -Ritchie. (Sounds 1979)
Is not the first time though. He, in Rainbow, usually wanted to do an encore but then he'd see Cozy, as he said, mentally brought down and as much as Ritchie wanted, he'd not do an encore... just for Cozy.
'After-Rainbow' relationship.
As I showed you in the first part, they ended in very good terms and still being friends and they were still good friends until, of course, Cozy's death.
"Ritchie and I are still really good friends. He came to see us [MSG] while ago. I left the band very amicably way and there's no hard feelings. I just think five years was quite long enough. We'd both seen enough of each other. It's a long time to work with any relationship, especially in an artistic way, it was better to part as friends rather than as enemies." -Cozy. (1982) (it was a cut off article I found in pinterest long ago so i don't know the very source)
Cozy was still supporting Rainbow after he left and he liked "I surrender" and all. And he discovered Joe Lynn so when Graham left... Cozy told Ritchie about Joe.
And for the last quote... I will leave this funny but sad but nice (????? ... you will understand what i mean)
"Last time we saw Cozy was in Denmark. He was doing an interview beneath my window in the garden of the hotel. I couldn't resist but to throw water out of the window and onto him. We always played practical jokes on each other. Cozy went too soon, but that's the way he'd have wanted to go, in his car. -Ritchie (Blackmore's Night Q&A online)
"We always played practical jokes on each other". Ritchie you're such a liar and you're talking advantage of Cozy's death because if he were still alive he would tell you that you were afraid of his practical jokes.
But he is deep about Cozy's cause of death, and he's right about it so that, again, shows you that Ritchie knew him very well.
-
So we reached the end, a fair-sad but happy ending for their friendship. Is sad because Cozy's death but is happy because they were still the goal friends that they always were. And i have no doubts that he still misses him, because Carry On Jon is very similar to The Loner and i don't think it's a coincidence.
Anyway, Long Live Rock 'N' Roll and I want their friendship.
#sorry i didn't know how to end the post hshshs#cozy powell#ritchie blackmore#rainbow band#two dorks#long post#now if you excuse me I'll go to the bathroom to cry#i don't have words#just... two adorable dorks#rainbow#ritchie blackmore's rainbow#graham bonnet#don airey#roger glover
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Tomorrow, When The Ache Begun
Summary: You and Ivar broke up four months ago, but you are still working together as associates in the corporation you created together. You were focused on work, whereas all he could do was thinking about you and mentally preparing himself to be ready for whenever you might bump into him.
Pairing: Modern! Ivar x Reader
Warnings: heartbreak II fluff II angst, please excuse my English, for it’s not my mother tongue
Words: 2.6k
A/N: For the experience to be more immersive, I invite you to read with Holly Humberstone - Fake Plastic Trees, Cover Of RadioHead.
It was dark outside, drops of rain spurted on the windows as his fingers typing on the keyboard. He didn't see you today, nor this evening, even though he was well aware, you would never leave your office before midnight. You were always a hard worker since the very first day you started dating; you would continuously excuse yourself because you were late on most dates due to some crazy designs you had in mind. You were very inventive, a part of you that he missed much, as you would always find one thousand manners to show him love. You weren't like any other woman he's dated before, your scatty brain was giving you a grace he couldn't find anywhere else than on your expression. Saying he misses you wouldn't be sufficient, he craved for you every minute, every hour of each day he would wake-up alive still. When you left, he didn't understand why at first. It was when he saw you grin to others and telling cracks during meetings and conferences that he got it, he took you for granted. Not that you weren't happy with him, everybody close to you knew how sparkling you were to be by his side, supporting him and just being able to love him unconditionally. But when you got married, everything changed, he was spending more time outside than in the house, going out with his buddies instead of cuddling with you. Even when your fathers died, he wasn't there, letting you all alone trying to cope with the loss of the first man of your life. Although you never blame Ivar for his demeanor, you started to get quieter, less intense and garish, less stirring, less you. You stopped telling him what was on your eccentric mind, you stopped bring up surprises, you stopped addressing him poems and stopped whisper sweet words in his ears when his head used to drop on his desk so much he was drained. You got distanced, and one day, just like that, you stopped saying, "I love you" eventuating to you taking your own apartment, and soon you never put your feet into his no more. He couldn't even remember when you started to detached from him because he never thought you would. Everyone use to tell you and him that you were such a powerful modern couple, never getting into the other's business, and trusted each other with your life. What they didn't seem to be aware of is that everything you once hardly built was falling apart. Right in front of Ivar's eyes, but he was too focus on pity himself about his condition and go out with friends to realize he was failing you. And all he ever needed was you. Now that you were gone, he acknowledged it. Too late.
"Ivar?" Your voice kicked him out of his thoughts "Y/N" He tried to spiritedly let out with some hope in his tone, but it came harsher, way harsher than what he wanted. "I'm going home, I'll let you close the office, is that okay?" You softly asked, and at this very moment, he wanted to stand up and throw every single item on the ground, off his desk. How could you be this soft with him? He didn't deserve it, how could you? And suddenly it stroke him, you could be smooth because you didn't care anymore. Because you were over him. Maybe you even started to see someone else? No, he has to calm down now, or he would explode, and he didn't want you to see him like that, not anymore. "Ivar, are you okay?" You asked, concerned. "Are you, Y/N?" He managed to respond with a calm tone. You tilted your head and exhaled deeply.
Surely you knew what he was referring to. In fact, you knew everything about him, as if he was the back of your hand. "Do you have something in particular to ask?" You raised one brow at him. "Are you... Seeing someone?" "I'm not" "Why?" "If I told you 'yes' you would've been irritated, only I said 'no' and still you are annoyed" You confusedly retort. "It's because you deserve someone, somebody that... sees you" He murmured the end of his sentence as he kept avoiding your eyes. "It's you I wanted, never another, and you used to see me" It was enough for him to look up at your eyes, they were glimmering. They always do at night; for some reason. He never noticed it when you were together, but now he sees it, he sees you again. "I don't know what to tell you" He finally answered and you giggled, your shoulders getting off the frame of the door. "You were never too talkative anyway" You snapped back as you turn your heels, ready to live his office. "You used to love me that way" He hassled to add, and that made you stopped in tracks. "That's true" You lowly let out, still showing him your back. You huffed and shook your head before getting out without letting him hold you back with old memories.
You quickly got to the elevator and pressed the button. It was only when you got into it that you breathe out the air you didn't even realize you were holding. Palm pressed on the forehead, you closed your eyes for a while. Seven floors before you get into your car and drive away from him, it meant only a few more minutes after which you could continue your life as if nothing ever happened.
***
The next morning when you arrive at the office, you directly got to the kitchen as you wanted some coffee. You didn't sleep well last night, thinking about the small words you exchanged with the man you were still deeply and madly in love with. Nothing in the world could ever heal your heart from the damage it caused to leave him, though you 'd hoped it was for the better.
To your surprise, you bump into Ivar, he was standing against the counter, his crutch near him. You let out a groan as he was right in front of the coffee maker and were about to leave the room, you couldn't face his now, not this morning. "Y/N" You hear, and you reluctantly turn around, trying to offer him a small smile. "Hi" "You look tired" "I am, I had a long night" "Insomnia?" He asked, raising a brow. You cleared your throat "I have trouble sleeping haha" You tried to laugh, but it came as fake as the blond new hair color of your assistant. "Y/N..." He started, but you cut him off before he could add anything "I have a pile of files on my desk already, see you later" "Y/N" He called this time more firmly. You harshly swallow and turn around to look him in the eyes.
" You shouldn't work that much, it is terrible for your health. Your fatigue shows all over your face, even though I still believe you're beautiful, you should slow down" "Slow down Ivar? How am I supposed to do that?" You snickered, "Is it one of your bad days?" "One of my bad days?" You started to lose your cool, and he saw it. He grabbed his crutch and put down his cup of coffee before hassling to you as fast as he could. "Y/N, calm down, everything is alright. Look at me" He was aware of what was happening, an anxiety crisis. The lack of sleep always used to trigger your anxiety, and the only way to calm you down was his arms wrapped around your body, preventing you from racking.
"It's okay, come here" He muttered with a solemn tone. His hands reached your waist, pulling you nearer him, and soon, your head pressed against his chest, holding him close. His arms shyly embrace your body, which made you instantly relaxed. He gauged your reaction, not sure if you would let him touch you more than five seconds as it's been forever you never got to him that close. "Thank you" You eventually let out in a breathe. "You're still nervous, I can feel it." "Ye- yeah, it's because, you know... your touch... I didn't feel it for months now" You put both your hands on his chest and give it a small push to voice your reluctance. "My skin is not going to burn yours... If that was the matter" He tried to tease you, but it failed obviously. You sneak out his arms, but he didn't let you, "Ivar?" You asked with a high pitched tone. "Aren't you feeling well?" "I do, but what I want does not matter" "Why would you say that? " "I mean, I wasn't the one who wanted "us" to end" " Then who?" "You, you wanted it to end, at least you didn't want it to continue" " Of course I did" He harshly snapped back, knitting his brows. "Are we going to have this conversation right here? Right now?" "This is not quite the time nor the place" He answered. You just rolled your eyes and got out of his grip. His eyes landed on you all the time, he didn't want to upset you, far from there, neither he wanted you to leave, but here you were, and what could he do about it? Nothing. He huffed noisily and watched you go away, once again.
***
"I'm sorry for this morning" You cleared your throat and managed to say. Ivar hassled turned around to face you with a fazed expression. Why were you excusing yourself, it wasn't your fault, you can't control anxiety, and he promised you to always be there for you even when you broke up. His eyes grew wider. "I did not know Y/N would apologize for something she can't control" His voice dripped with sarcasm. It was funny cause you were the one always talking about letting go of what you couldn't control or accept it. You were the one always correcting him when he would say he was dumb or when he was too harsh with himself. You couldn't stand when he would do that, but now it was you in this situation. Being too hard on yourself to suffer from something you cannot command and apologized as if you could. You laughed frantically at his comment and looked away. "I'm glad you came to my office, I wanted to go to yours long ago and stayed there all my life if I could, but I didn't want to bother you" ."I was only here to tell you I'm sorry for taking your time, even if we are not together anymore" "Stop doing that Y/N, please" He exhaled, one of his palm running down his face. " You didn't respond. "I know better, you know better, why searching for excuses?" "Tomorrow, it will make five months since I left your apartment Ivar" Your eyes were strenuously now searching for his blue ones. When the two pairs met, it felt as if Thor himself stroke you down at the same time as both of you quickly looked away. "We had a conversation about our break-up right away, you remember?" "I do" He sadly answered. "I hoped I would be able to move on after tha-" "We can not move on Y/N" His eyes looking straight to your face, his hands clasping his desk, trying to control the anger that was ready to burst out from his chest. His eyes were darker, his pupils were dilated. "Please" Ivar added, pleading. He knew the decision wasn't his to make because he was the one who fucked it all up, but he couldn't let you go, not you, not now and simply never. "I can't sleep since I know what I did to you. I've tried to do better since you left..." "You did improve" You cheered him, the corner of your lips curving. "You did" You added, seeing no response on his face. "There is a but, there is a fucking, but" He shook his head. "We both need closure" You succeed letting out, your hands shakingly still on the door handle. "I think we should just let go. You know about my side corporation? I want to expend it. With the money of my shares, I would be able to start again" "You want me to buy your shares of this society?" "So we could bury our resentment with one another" You continued. "I don't have any resentment towards you, Y/N, I love you" "We deserve peace, Ivar. We deserve to let ourselves feel what there is to feel to properly heal. We own ourselves the truth, don't you think?" You softly said, he took a deep breath in and locked his eyes in yours. "It will never be the same, I could never be the same. You willingly kept choosing your friends and your self-destruction behavior over my love and the peace it always offered you" You let out lowly, but each of your words cut him as if they were the sharpest of the knives. He stayed silent, you were right. From all along, you were damn right. He abandoned you and not only neglected you but denied your worth, your potential, and your healing abilities towards the pain he always felt about his legs, both physically and mentally. "I gave you my heart, you gave me nothing, and now that we split you give me headaches" "Please stop talking" He supersedes to articulate, even if his mouth felt as dry as the Sahara desert. If he wasn't broken down before, he was now. His mind was running wild, his thoughts rushed in his head as if his brain changed into aa honeycomb. He was sweating, his forehead was almost damp. Ivar stood back up with the help of his crutch and hobbled to you, grabbing your hand with haste. "Y/N please" He was pleading with a broken voice, it was too much. "I have divorce papers drawn up and ready to be signed for over a month now". You open his hand that was holding yours and placed the papers there. "Please sign them, we already dawdled too long." You adamantly say. He was taken aback by your words and how determined you were to keep him out of your life. He thought he stood a chance, Ivar thought he could have you back if only that big man changed, but even now that you assured him he improved, you still didn't want him back. He was confused, hurt, and lost. "Though we're trying to stay ahead, we're just treading water Ivar" You were trying to reason with him. "Each of your fucking words cut me so deep it hurt for me to breathe in" He finally reached the accurate words to describe what he felt, words which almost eventuate to your heart dropping. Maybe you were too harsh this time, "Fuck" You muttered, looking downward. "It is about what is in here, huh?" His finger pointed his mind, and you shook your head. "It is about how you deal with what is happening here" You pointed his chest, where his heart was beating like a drum. "I will sign them, now please leave" His voice filled the room again, his tone was now solemn and calm as if he accepted your decision. Though he needed time to swallow the idea of living a life where there will be no "you and him", the idea of a "us" slowly fading away. He tightened his grip on the papers and abruptly let go of your hands. You leave him without words, locking the door behind you in a thud.
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Master List
Ivar TAGGED: @youbloodymadgenius
With Love, always #blacklivesmatter #happypridemonth
#ivar#ivar the boneless#ivar lodbrok#vikings ivar#ivar lothbrok#modern ivar#alex hoegh andersen#alex hoegh#alex hogh andersen#alex hogh#alex hogh fanfiction#vikings#viking#vikings imagine#Alfred vikings#vikings fanfiction#vikings fandom#ivar fanfic#ivar x reader#ivar x you#my collage#ivar's heathen army
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