#OMniPOtent makes me want to rip your throat out with my bare hands

[selffagellation]

one thing about me is that i will never not be picky about which omni- people use in religion

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. v

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt v: acta non verba

Masterlink Post

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Language, some “light” religious blasphemy (it’s Far Cry 5), the Seeds being themselves. This is an enemies to lovers (enemies to enemies and lovers?), strong canon deviance from here on out. Mentions of blood/carnage, the frantic energy of people who both hate and are attracted to each other. It goes on!

Notes: So the gang is finally getting somewhere in this chapter! Sometimes, a family is two murderers and their dog, that also wants to kill one of them, and that's okay.I was pretty nervous about writing this chapter, because I feel like I slog so hard through combat sequences just to have them feel like they drag, so I hope it reads okay!! Big thank you to @starcrier, who consistently lets me babble to her about these two dumbasses and also beta-reads all of my garbage all the time (and says she likes doing it???? Okay???). She is a pure angel and incredible writer and deserves all of the love and attention, so please go check out her stuff!

Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who leaves feedback, and I hope you enjoy!

Joey Hudson is her best friend.

Joey Hudson is her best friend, because she teaches Elliot how to tell if a lipstick color isn’t going to work for her (anything orange-hued), and how hard to close her eyes when Joey pours hydrogen peroxide on her scraped knee from sneaking back in her through her window, and how to laugh until her stomach aches, tucked into her tiny twin bed with a movie playing on her laptop.

They do just about everything together. Joey doesn’t mind that sometimes Elliot’s mama drinks a little too much, and she doesn’t mind that Elliot doesn’t talk about where her daddy’s gone (or if she even knows where he is; they both come to understand, very quickly, that it doesn’t matter). Joey doesn’t mind these things, and instead she makes them her own, solidifying Elliot as her very own honorary sister.

It’s nice. It’s nice, because Joey’s mama doesn’t drink too much, and cooks often, and doesn’t mind how frequently Elliot stays the night.

Joey Hudson is her best friend, and when Elliot is a little drunk in a bar and thinks about letting someone like John Duncan take her home and have his way with her, Joey swoops in and takes her out of the line of fire just in time.

“What is wrong with you?” Joey is laughing, erasing any thought that she might be serious, as they stand outside the bar in the gravel parking lot. Elliot’s face is hot from the alcohol and Joey smushes her cheeks together. “Letting a rich boy like John Duncan try and whisk you away? Who are you and what have you done with my Elli?”

“It’s still me!” Elliot protests. She’s laughing, too, and then she groans, resting her forehead on Joey’s shoulder. “Joey, he’s so attractive. How can someone be so attractive? I’ve never had a type, but—”

“Attractive, and no good.” Joey pats her head affectionately. “A man like that is no good.” She pulls back and smoothes the hair out of Elliot’s face. “C’mon then, darlin’. Let’s go home and watch one of those horrible Hallmark movies to get your mind off of our awfully attractive, awfully no-good friend in there.”

Elliot pouts. She is two drinks in and already in no shape to drive. “I can pick?”

Joey nods, quite sagely. “Yes. If you say to me that John Duncan is no good.”

“Fine.” Elliot sighs. “John Duncan is no good.”

They start walking towards Joey’s car, gravel crunching underfoot, and Elliot rests her head against the brunette’s shoulder. Joey says, “And now is the part where you say, thank you, Joey, for always looking out for me and—”

Elliot stops in front of the car, exhaling. “Thank you, Jo,” she says. “Really. You’re my favorite person.” 

Joey squeezes her shoulders. “And you’re mine, El,” she promises, her eyes full and warm  as she grins. “Even if I don't know what you'd do without me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

John Duncan is no good, Elliot thought.

He was no good, certainly; especially now, especially as John Seed, but—

“Hey, dog,” John said to Boomer, sitting as far away as he can, the cuffs pulled taut between them. He couldn’t have sounded less enchanted if he wanted to; Elliot could tell his exact feelings about the Heeler having found them. And, of course, she knew Boomer’s feelings about John , in particular.

John shifted where he sat, and Boomer growled. The brunette shot her a murderous look.

“How do you propose we rescue your Deputy Hudson if your beast won’t let me move?” he asked her tartly. Elliot rubbed the top of Boomer’s head thoughtfully; immediately, the growling stopped, and he relaxed again, though she knew her boy was just waiting for the signal to rip John’s throat out.

She felt lighter than she had in days. Safer. Happier. Warmer.

“Weren’t you listening?” Elliot’s voice was only dry for the comedy of her words. “He’d only bite you if I told him to. He’s not a wild animal.”

“Oh, yes, because my lack of faith in your good feelings about me is completely misplaced,” John replied. His voice was terse. He came to a stand, keeping a wary eye on Boomer, and brushed his jeans off before stretching his arms out in front of him. 

In a situation where he had been stripped of all of his power, of all of the people chanting yes to whatever it was he was doing, John felt—looked—sounded —

Normal.

She didn’t want to think about that. Any time John did something that felt human, it erased the very recent actions he’d taken as a crazy cult leader. Kidnapping her. Considering drowning her (though as time went on, she thought he wouldn’t have followed through; it wasn’t his style).

My parents are the one who taught me the Power of Yes, his voice had crackled through the radio at her, once, in what felt like a different life—a life that felt coppery and slick with blood, but where she’d felt at home in the violence, where she’d been comfortable. Now I’m going to give that power to you.

Elliot whistled, and Boomer took off into the brush, the movement causing John to hesitate just for a moment before he relaxed. She fought back a smile and said, “Let’s see if our friends are still around, shall we?”

“Yes,” John acquiesced after a moment, not that he had much of a choice; she was already picking her way through the underbrush, tugging him along with her. There were just a few moments of blissful silence before he said, “You know, deputy, this wasn’t the way I had originally pictured having you in handcuffs,” and Elliot thought, oh, yes, there’s the John I know. She yanked a little on the cuffs linking them together, nearly causing John to trip over himself.

“Funny,” Elliot replied sweetly, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

“You are such a child.” John’s voice was low, and threatening. She flashed her most charming smile at him.

“You’re much funnier when you’re not acting like a psycho. I think I’m even beginning to enjoy my time with you.”

She climbed up the ravine’s slope, leaning into the tilt of it, feeling a bit fresher than before but still bogged down by the urge to cough. Her throat itched and her eyes watered, by the time she got to the top and crouched in the treeline, John lingering close behind.

There was only one gray van parked there, now. Elliot could see maybe one man guarding the entrance, but who knew how many people were inside? Even when they’d had their first run-in down on the highway, she’d thought she’d had a solid head count until they came crawling out of the woodwork, like termites.

Which only made her more paranoid about creeping around in the woods, too.

“I don’t think we’re going to have any better odds than this,” Elliot murmured. “If we wait any longer they might have more people here. There’s a radio in there, right? We can get in touch with…”

Her voice trailed off. It was an argument she didn’t want to have right then, with John —who they were going to talk to first, whether they’d be radioing the resistance or if they’d be reaching out to Joseph to let him know what was going on, if he didn’t know already; surely, someone like Joseph Seed would be practically omnipotent to what was going on his domain, though Elliot would never presume to know what the fuck was going on in his head.

“Joseph,” John said, infuriatingly erasing Elliot’s hope to let sleeping dogs lie, even for a moment.

“We can argue about the logistics of contacting sane people with resources versus your psycho brother once we have access to the radio,” Elliot snipped. She crept forward in the brush; Boomer was crouched a few feet to her left, waiting patiently for her signal, but every muscle in the heeler’s body was tensed and ready.

Elliot held out her hand for him, a silent, noiseless signal, stay , and he laid down on the ground obediently, obscured by the sunlight dappling through his bush of hiding choice. There was no way she was letting someone put a round of bullets in him.

“Keep your arm relaxed,” Elliot muttered, beginning to ease out into the field.

“This one?” John whispered back, rolling the shoulder of the arm farthest from her.

“No, dumbass, the one I’m—”

“I know, deputy, I was trying to lighten the mood.”

“Consider retiring from your comedy career . ”

It was nice, at least; dare she even say refreshing , to find John annoying after having spooned willingly with him all night.

Every instinct in Elliot’s body—the ones she had before, and the ones that she came to develop with the insurgence of Eden’s Gate both—was screaming. This big, open field, its grass only barely tall enough to obscure them from the sight of the guard, felt exactly like the field that Bambi had to cross, worried about being caught in the crosshairs of a hunter on the prowl.

Halfway across the field, Elliot caught herself mid-stumble over a lump in the ground; as she regained her balance and glanced down and identified the source of the fresh, wet earth now sticking to her knees and hands, she felt her stomach churn violently.

It was a row of shallow graves, freshly-dug. The bodies that were buried were completely obscured except for their faces. Like Waylon’s, their eyes had been scooped out and replaced with short-stem blooms—vibrant, clean, new. Done recently, just like the graves, which means they were probably killed recently, too. They were clearly Eden’s Gate. Their scruffy hair and tanned complexions, even in death, gave that away; but each grave was lined with a fresh butterfly weed, vibrant and gorgeous orange against the dark earth.

“Sick,” Elliot managed out, her voice wobbling, feeling the nausea welling up inside of her. John’s face was tight and hard, and there was something about it—like maybe he didn’t care if they died for him , but he didn’t like that someone else had brought this death to them, that it didn’t serve the purpose of Eden’s Gate at all to have it happen like this.

Stuffing down the urge to puke, Elliot pressed on with John close at her back. They crept their way up the hill to the side of the ranch house, though it was more like a mansion than anything else now that she could see it up close without being too busy looking everywhere else. In the distance, not too far away, she heard the sound of the guard in front of the door saying something to himself, or maybe into a radio, walking absently into view with his back still to them.

He wore the same dark boots that Elliot recognized from the men who had been hunting them down in the woods, but he otherwise looked to be in civilian clothes. Well—except for the machine gun slung around his neck. The sight of that made Elliot’s fingers itch.

She held up a finger to her mouth to John, creeping forward. The cultist ahead of them hummed something under his breath and tapped his fingers against the barrel of the gun to his imaginary beat.

Her heart thrummed in her chest, but for all of the sickness in her body and the poor sleep and the ragged feeling of being trapped in close quarters with John Seed for what had to be over twenty-four hours by now, in this little heartbeat of a moment she felt clear.

Elliot stood and threw her hand forward, up and over to one side of the man’s head. She felt the drag of John’s weight against her own, like he hadn’t been keeping his arm slack like she’d told him to, and by the time she got the loop of the handcuff chain over his face he saw her out of the corner of his eye and started to turn, his expression warping into something more vicious than relaxed.

She yanked her arm hard to the right, criss-crossing over John’s own, which hovered with uncertainty in the air, until the chain pulled tight across the cultist’s throat; immediately his eyes went wide, and instead of scrabbling for his gun he reached to try and give himself any breath of air.

Noise started to eek out of his mouth, his tongue moving like he wanted to say something as his hands fought desperately to get between the metal chain and his neck. He was going to scream, if he got the chance, or call for help or sound some alarm that she didn’t need to have happen, and Elliot thought, not on my fucking watch just before she stomped her foot into the back of his knee, watching as he crumpled until his kneecaps hit the dirt; almost like an instinct, John’s foot came up to the back of his head and slammed his face into the side of the ranch building.

The body went slack, and then slumped against the ground, blood smearing the side of the building wall. She didn’t think he was dead, but he was quiet—for now—and that was what was important. It wasn’t like they were going to stay very long.

“I told you to keep your fucking arm relaxed,” Elliot hissed, as she and John untangled themselves from the man’s neck. His nose was almost certainly broken, which was a nice little treat of a detail. Something for her to be happy about in these trying times. 

“Maybe you could be a bit more clear about your plans next time,” John snapped back, still keeping his voice low and quiet. It didn’t seem like there were any other guards outside, but that was something that Elliot wasn’t going to trust. “I guess we’re just lucky that I’ve got good instincts when it comes to—”

Elliot slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut the fuck up , John. Do you not understand the concept of sneaking? ”

John made a low, muffled noise of protest, pushing her hand off of his face before they moved past the guard to the front door. It was unlocked, when John pushed the handle down and eased it open; they didn’t see anyone immediately, but she could hear low chatter coming from a different room.

She glanced back at John and then gestured him forward. He made a face at her, rolling his eyes with enough exaggeration that she almost scoffed—as though he were saying, oh, sure, now that there’s more than one guy, I’ll go first. Elliot feigned innocence at what he could possibly be scowling at her for, but in reality, it made the most sense—he knew where the radio was, and he knew the layout of the ranch better than she did.

John straightened up, moving down the first hallway until they got came around the staircase; a shovel was leaned up the wall, still wet with dirt, and the brunette ahead of her steadied it on the wall so that they couldn’t risk knocking it over and alerting their houseguests. Their armed, presumably crazy, houseguests.

The two men inside the living room said something to each other, one of them pacing to the back of the living room for the window, and this time John made eye contact with her before she nodded, silently; choke one out, get the last one out of the way. 

As soon as he stepped forward, the floorboard creaked violently under the shift of his weight, and both heads snapped to look at them.

Their eyes on the two of them—first on John and then on her, narrowing and pin-pointing her like a predator—made Elliot’s adrenaline kick into high gear. There was one brief moment, a heart-beat long, where nobody moved, before Elliot saw the closest cultist to them begin to ease his hand down to the radio on his hip.

No time, she thought, reaching blindly until her hands found the wooden handle of the shovel. No time, no time.

Elliot snapped out, “Down!” to John just in time for him to obey the command— so he did learn the first time after all —and she swung the head of the shovel like a baseball bat before it connected directly with the cultist’s face, slamming into him with the full force of all that adrenaline pumping through her body.

As soon as she felt the satisfying connection, she heard the sound of more rustling and suddenly remembered the second cultist, in the back of the living room. He had a furious look on his face, his gun already in his hand, and he lifted it to train it right at her.

It was not the first time she’d had a gun pointed at her face, and it would certainly not be the last; but still, there was something that settled deep in her stomach, something she recognized as fear , bitter and cold, the second the cultist smiled at her and said in his thickly-accented, “Put your shovel down, pretty bird. If you do, I will be nice to you and your boyfriend.”

He took a step forward, gun still leveled at her, and then at John, and then back at her. Her fingers tightened their grip on the handle of the shovel, hesitant, panicked—why wasn’t he shooting? Why wasn’t he killing them right now? Why was he looking at them (and it was them , not just her ) like that?

Elliot didn’t have much time to think about it. As soon as the cultist took another step, John leveraged his free hand behind the nearby curio cabinet and shoved it, shouting, “ Now , Elliot—” and rocked it with such immediate force that the whole thing groaned with the ache of gravity. The cultist darted forward as the cabinet began to crash down, attempting to crush him, snarling something in foreign at them viciously just as Elliot swung the shovel straight into his face.

She felt, this time, the impact of his bones against the metal, vibrating deep into her hands and all the way up her arms as the shovel. Blood from the slap of the shovel against his mouth sprayed the wall, a tooth or two scattering across the floor, and his body collapsed back atop the now-deposed cabinet, gun clattering to the floor.

For a second, they were both quiet, listening and waiting to hear the sound of furious feet stomping up the stairs, angry voices coming to assist their fallen comrades; but there was nothing. The house was empty. The sound of soft classical music playing from the radio filtered through the haze of her brain, a sound she hadn’t recognized because of the roaring in her ears when she’d seen their hunters in person.

“Let’s move, deputy,” John said, reaching and grabbing the gun off of the floor. “We’ll see what all they left us.” She nodded, feeling a little winded, and dropped the shovel on the ground with a collection of noise; the knowledge that it had been used to bury those men and women made her skin crawl, and she was sure the disgust showed on her face. John eyed her for a moment and said, “You don’t feel like keeping that?”

Elliot shot him a look. “We can pick it up on our way out if we really want it.”

They picked their way up the stairs to the room that had been John’s—or, rather, that Elliot presumed was his, because he moved toward it with such purpose she thought it could only be that. But it felt barely lived-in, the bed still pristinely made and no sign of someone actually existing in it anywhere, save for a small table with a chair pushed up against with an empty walkie-talkie holder sitting in it.

“Gone,” John said, his jaw working absently in what Elliot knew now to be a tick he had. “Well—”

“It’s better,” Elliot said, “that we don’t have radios. They have the radios. I saw one on that guy’s belt, which means they’re probably in the same channel we’d use anyway.” She frowned. “They don’t need to hear where we’re going.”

“We heard where you were going,” John pointed out, reminding Elliot of the many times that he had interfered with her own radio to threaten her. 

“I didn’t care,” Elliot replied, “because I had an idea of what you’re capable of. I don’t have that with these…”

John nodded. “Yeah.”

A heartbeat of a moment stretched between them, long enough for the unsaid words to go: I don’t know what they’ll do with Faith, I don’t know what they’ll do to Joey. Too much to risk.

“Well,” she murmured, coughing into her elbow and taking a laborious breath, “we can lift the van out of here and hopefully go unnoticed, and get to Fall’s End—”

“Where everyone wants me dead,” John deadpanned. “If someone is going to be capable of rescuing Faith, it’s going to be Joseph, and Jacob.”

“If someone is going to be capable of rescuing Joey, ” Elliot snapped back, “it’s going to be the resistance. I don’t want to argue about this, John—”

“So don’t.” John’s voice was hard and smooth, the way he spoke when he was trying to get some stupid confession out of her. “Agree to go to Joseph first.” And then, in that infuriating preaching voice he used and that wicked glimmer in his eyes, he added, “Just say yes.”

She let out a long, sharp breath, exhaling it until her lungs ached with the effort of it, her head pounding. There was almost no likelihood of them being able to get out of these cuffs until they got to Fall’s End or to Joseph, and so that meant they were stuck together one way or another.

“If we go to Fall’s End,” John ventured, closing some distance between them, “we’re going to put a big, fat target on the Resistance.”

Elliot tilted her chin defiantly, having to in order to make straight eye contact with him now. “And you’re willing to do that to your brothers?”

John shrugged. “There’s always been a target on them, deputy. This will be no different.”

Somehow, Elliot didn’t believe that was true; but if John wanted to put his family in danger again, then so be it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Close your eyes, Jonathan.”

John grimaced. “That isn’t my name, deputy.”

“The sentiment remains the same,” Elliot insisted, and he heaved a sigh before he closed his eyes. He heard fabric rustling, the sound of Elliot kicking off the boots she’d been wearing and then sliding out of the sweats she’d been in for the entirety of their tied-together time. She’d already raided the bathroom to pack a backpack with water and Tylenol, in addition to a few loose granola bars from the kitchen; now, it was just getting out of those sweats, which he could only assume she was probably relieved about.

He’d gone ahead and changed out of his clothes and into cleaner ones; as well as he could, anyway, being hand-cuffed as they were. He hadn’t needed to tell Elliot not to look; she’d been more than happy to oblige without being told.

“I am facing away from you,” John reiterated, his eyes dutifully closed even when there was a part of him that wanted to make her squirm. “I don’t see the point in closing my eyes .”

“It’s not about you , you egomaniac,” Elliot sighed. “It’s about my comfort. Eyes shut.”

“Scout’s honor.”

She scoffed. With his eyes closed, his back turned to her, he could hear the sound of her shimmying into what he could only presume where her jeans, stuffing her feet back into her jeans, and then—the small, quiet clicking of her gathering the pills off of the count and taking a large swallow of water.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ve drugged you?” John asked dryly, turning to look at her now. She watched him with a flat expression.

“Then you’d have to haul my body around,” Elliot replied. “I didn’t say you could look.”

John’s gaze lingered on her, just for a moment; maybe a little longer than he would have liked her to know, but it was easier to steal looks at her when she was focused elsewhere. “You’re perfectly suitable for society, Deputy Honeysett.”

“That’s Junior Deputy to you, asshole.” She swallowed back the last of the water and shook her head, grimacing. “I hate pills.”

“What are you, nine?”

“Fuck off.” She was still in the over-sized undershirt of his, tied like a little summer blouse at her belly-button, exposing skin there that looked—now that he was staring—to be the home of a few gossamer scars. The question of where they came from itched on his tongue, and he only barely kept it to himself.

“So,” she said.

“So,” John parroted, eyes flickering up from her exposed abdomen to her face. He knew what she was going to say; that she agreed with him, that they were going to go find Joseph first and then get Faith and Joey back, because Elliot may have been a capable killer but if she didn’t need to put the people of Hope County in danger, she wasn’t going to. 

“Fall’s End needs to know what’s going on,” Elliot began. “But I don’t want them to see us driving there—”

John nodded somberly. “Uh-huh.”

She glared at him. “—so we can put your stupid fucking brother in the crosshairs,” she continued, biting the words out, “but the second we get there I use a radio and get ahold of Jerome. Also, I drive.”

John’s lip curled involuntarily at the mention of Pastor Jeffries. One of his least favorite Resistance members, if he was going to be asked to rank them. Pious, holier-than-thou, and oh-so-patronizing when it came to their beliefs.

“Fine,” John said. “But only if you promise not to go off-roading.”

“No promises,” Elliot snipped. He flashed her a smile, which apparently did not win her over, because she followed it up with, “And if this deal gets broken in any single way, whether it’s on the way there or when we get there, I’ll fucking kill you.”

She headed for the door while he barked out a laugh, looking more put-together now, jogging up the steps and pulling him along with her. They made one stop in the living room—to grab the other gun, and then the van key, which she managed to find in one of the pockets. They left both radios; they felt like traps, beacons for someone to find them. His eyes were trained on her, watching each assured movement as she pulled useful things off of the dead body; a clip of ammo, a throwing knife.

“You’re telling me that you’re going to lug my dead body around if you don’t get to call your little friends?” John asked. 

A wolfish grin had made its home on his face, and as she straightened up into a standing position again, Elliot shot him a look. There was something in her expression that was almost playful, but the words that came out of her mouth were, “Oh, John, I’d find a way to cut your arm off before I let you slow me down.”

It shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was, a part of John reasoned; it certainly made his jaw set in defiance, but his heart stuttered a little at the words, and that’s what he hated about it, that he thought, we’re not so unlike each other, Rook.

He didn’t trust himself to speak just yet, so he walked outside with Elliot and said, “You don’t want that gun?” and pointed at the (now surely dead) guard they had assaulted earlier. She shook her head.

“Too heavy,” she replied briskly. “And I don’t trust you with it.” She brought her fingers to her lips and whistled sharply, once; John watched the treeline, but he didn’t see Boomer until the dog was sprinting up the hill, not once having spotted his form in the field. No wonder that dog’s caused so many problems, he thought dryly.

Elliot ruffled Boomer’s ears, saying something sweet to him that he didn’t quite catch because he was too busy watching the beast warily. Boomer seemed only interested in doing the same thing to him; occasionally, his tail would wag when Elliot patted him, but it would immediately drop for him to cock his head inquisitively at John.

He scoffed under his breath.  The dog was cute, in its own master-killer way. He guessed.

Elliot opened the back of the van first, shooing Boomer in and closing the doors before making her way to the passenger door and unlocking it. She slid into the driver’s seat from there, John obediently following suit, and quickly clipping his seat belt into place.

“I’m getting flashbacks from the last time I was in a car with you driving,” he said dryly when she shot him a curious look. 

“Poor baby.” Elliot dropped his sunglasses from the top of her head down onto her nose, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. The van purred to life. It was a nicer one than the ones Eden’s Gate used, and she reached past him to rifle around in the glove box before she found what she was looking for: a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Really, deputy?” John asked dryly, as she lit the cigarette in the van and rolled the window down. He saw, behind the blue tint of his sunglasses, her eyes roll dramatically. “I didn’t know you smoked.” And then, with a little incredulous laugh, “You’re sick.”

“You’re fucking right I’m sick, and stressed out. I’ve got Tylenol in the bag and I’m a big girl.” She eyed him through the sunglasses, and quipped, “What’re you going to do, tattle on me to God?” before she was laughing at her own joke and cranking the wheel of the van so she could throw it in reverse. “I’m going to need this whole pack if I’m going to survive a mini road trip with the likes of you, John Seed.”

“You shouldn’t mock the faith, deputy.”

“You shouldn’t mock the faith,” Elliot repeated, shifting into drive. “You sound stupid when you say that shit. I know you don’t believe it.”

He chose not to entertain her ridiculous accusation, glancing out the window. “If you think this is stressful,” John rumbled, settling back against his seat as she wound the van down the drive of the ranch, “consider that your road trip is taking you to your in-laws. I’m your boyfriend, remember?”

“Fuck off.” She took a drag of the cigarette, tapping it out of the window. “I’ll throw this van over a cliff if you call yourself my boyfriend again.”

Her venom really was a comfort, he thought; if he didn’t know better, he would have thought he liked it.

He did. The dramatics of her vitriol pushed a grin on to his face.

“Oh, I certainly was right about you, deputy,” he drawled, rolling his window down as they hit the highway. “Your sin is wrath.”

[sciencelings-ocs]

Gold and Silver

This is an oc fic featuring my ocs Rosalia and Artemis who are sisters, Rose has powers. Artie does not. They both work for SHIELD.

Rose was just barely used to her job at SHIELD when Hydra destroyed everything. She was happy with what she was doing. She was helping people and with all of SHEILD’s reach, she could help the people who needed her most. She had the resources to do all the research she desired and was allowed to see classified information from scientists just like her. It was a dream until it wasn’t. 

She was in her lab when it happened. She was studying an Asgardian blood sample and comparing it to a human one. She should’ve been using her time more wisely… Why look at alien blood when the silent clock was counting down. 

She heard the gunfire before she knew what was going on. She grabbed her emergency pistol from under her main desk, she was still a trained SHIELD agent after all. She wasn’t a field agent but she knew the basics and could defend herself if she needed to. It was something her powers wouldn’t help her with. They were useless in this kind of situation. What good was glowy healing hands when she was being shot at. 

Footsteps were getting closer. There was muffled yelling beyond her walls. She didn’t have much time. There was one door, it led to the main hallway where the attackers were coming through. Her best chance was to hide. 

She ran as quietly as she could to the back of the room where some mostly empty cabinets were. She hoped that she was small enough to squeeze inside. Sure, it wasn’t a good vantage point but she was on the index and they would know that she was there and that she could be a target. She didn’t want to go out fighting, there was still so much she could do. She doubted that they would take their time searching every crevice for her, she was still just a healer. It didn’t feel like that was part of Hydra’s gig. 

She had just gotten into position when the main door was kicked in rather violently. There was a main man in the front who ordered the others to search the room. Rose’s heart sank. She cocked her gun in the chaos and prepared to fire and get out of there as swiftly as possible. Her chances of escaping were low. She didn’t have enough ammo to take out the whole room and she wasn’t a perfect shot. Her chances of survival were dwindling. 

The footsteps were getting closer, one by one cabinet doors were being haphazardly ripped open, each getting nearer to her hiding place. She did her best to control her breathing but there was a reason that she didn’t want to be a field agent, she was not good in absolutely terrifying situations. She hated how much her hands shook on her gun. She had to keep her finger off of the trigger to prevent an accidental misfire. 

She took a few deep breaths as the banging of wooden doors got nearer. Time felt like it was going so slowly, though the nearest baddie was only a few cabinets away, it felt like an eternity before they got to hers. She gently rested her finger on the trigger and let herself take a second to see who was going to be on the other side. All she saw was a familiar red badge depicting a skull on top of several tentacles and she knew exactly what was going on. 

After she pulled the trigger, things seemed to get a little crazy. She slid out from her hiding place and used the man she had shot in the shoulder as a kind of human shield. She threw the poor nazi into the closest of his colleagues and shot at the Hydra agents closest to her. 

It didn’t take long for them to react. The room erupted in deafening bangs and yells. Rose rolled behind a metal column and vaguely recognized a painful burning in her thigh. 

“You’re not a fighter Doctor Dawn, this isn’t a fight you can win.” The main guy bellowed from behind her. 

“And what do you expect me to do,” Rose hissed, “Praise the name of hydra and surrender my rights to fascist ideals?” 

“Oh of course not. I just thought I’d try to make it easier. You’re coming with us, whether you’re full of holes or not. You know you’re potential has been wasted here, imagine what you could do without SHIELD’s limitations.” The man purred creepily.

“You don’t know me, I’m not going to do things just because I can. Some people have a hint of moral obligations.” Rose looked around her half of the room, she only had a few bullets left and Hydra wanted her alive, otherwise, they would’ve taken her down easily. She was astoundingly outnumbered. 

“This is your last chance to give yourself up, all in one piece. You know that you have no choice, don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?” 

“Self-preservation isn’t my strong suit…” Rose muttered as she placed her hand on her wound, it had stopped bleeding and was already closing. Soon, standing should be only a little bit painful rather than impossible. She just needed to keep him talking for a tiny bit longer. 

“Why,” She asked, “Why do you guys want me? There are people who can cause natural disasters and turn into any material they touch. I’m just a doctor. Wouldn’t you want to use your evil resources to get them rather than waste a good team getting a defenseless healer? That is if this is a good team and not just a bunch of cowards who were given guns.” 

“You underestimate your value to us. Imagine an unkillable army, soldiers who cannot be damaged by bullets, no need for armor or shields… it’s beautiful isn’t it.” 

Rose laughed. She laughed as she carefully got to her feet, leaning heavily on the metal pillar shielding her. 

“I can’t do that? What do you think I am? A god?” 

“You could be.” 

“There aren’t meant to be gods in this world. Even if it was possible, I don’t want to make an unkillable army, and if you think me a god, you can’t bend a god to you’re twisted will. I think that’s part of the whole omnipotent being bit.” Rose tested a lean on her injured leg and readied her gun.

“You won’t get the luxury of a choice.” the man said grimly. 

Rose stepped out of her hiding place and pointed her gun at the main military man. Before she could let out another word, she was hit with a tiny pinprick, to small to be a bullet. She only had enough time to look at the projectile before all her strength was seeping out of her. Seemed to be an enhanced tranquilizer. She collapsed to the ground and felt a massive collar be locked around her throat before her vision completely blacked out.  

Just like that, it was over. Her freedom was gone in the blink of an eye. She didn’t know if anyone would be willing or even left to attempt to save her. 

***

Artemis was undercover when Hydra made their move. She had just dyed her short hair brown and curled it, painted on more freckles on her cheeks, and hidden several types of weapons in her casual clothes. It was honestly one of her favorite parts of her job. Creating a character, pretending to be someone else, blending in, she liked it more than the whole fighting part. Even if she was pretty damn good at the fighting part. 

When Hydra emerged from their wretched ashes, Artemis was alone. She started the day on a mission but it didn’t take her long to realize that she was being hunted. 

It started with a strange flash from a window from the apartment building across the street. Call her paranoid but she immediately left eyeshot of the window. She took out her own sniper rifle and took off the specialized scope. She used it as a kind of telescope and turned on its x-ray feature and adjustable zoom to identify if someone was after her or if she was just imagining it. 

She was not imagining it. There was a person in a high window with a gun, trying their best to conceal themselves. Artemis put the scope back on her rifle and took out an acid green colored tube of lipstick, of course, it wasn’t actually lipstick. She was a spy. She uncapped it and used it to trace around the concrete on a nearby brick. There was a minute of soft sizzling before she slid out the brick as if it had just been laid. 

She pointed the barrel out of the new hole in the wall and wasted no time as she aimed and fired. The loud streets dampened the sound of the bang and she replaced the brick before getting out of there before anyone had a chance to figure out that something was up. 

It was on the news all day, SHIELD had fallen, they’re secrets exposed, and Hydra was back. Of course, some of that information was passed to her by an old friend but most of it was very much public. 

But Artemis didn’t care about her job, her livelihood, her kill count being on display for anyone to look up on google, no. Her sister was right at the heart of it, and due to her status as a glowy super-human, she was very much in trouble, if not dead. Sure it would be stupid to not keep her alive, but Hydra wasn’t known for their mercy. 

Artemis could disappear, she could get away from Hydra easily, but she wasn’t going to. Not while her sister was in their clutches. 

It took a few Hydra agents but eventually, Artemis found one that knew something that she cared about. Where they were keeping the important prisoners. Their enhanced prisoners. It turned out that they had a prison boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. One heavily equipped to deal with even the Avengers. Bingo. 

Artemis was ready for a rescue mission. 

***

Time was odd in her cell. The lights were always on, there was always a guard outside of the glass, Roses internal clock was the only thing hinting at the time and that had always been a little unreliable. They give her food once a day, if it could be called food, and it’s time always seemed to fluctuate. Every once in a while they would try to convince her to join them. They spoke of a perfect life, of power, of wealth but she would always say no. And she would pay for it. Usually, they would fill her body with voltage or try to brand her, but she would heal before the next day. Rarely even leaving a mark. At most a gunshot would become a scar no larger than the size of a freckle. 

The bulky shock collar had started to become normal. Her hair, which was normally held in a tight bun or a professional ponytail, was wild and untamed falling down her shoulders, some in front of her face. She couldn’t move it, her wrists were cuffed together, only uncuffed for meals or occasional trips to shower. 

Every moment alone, she spent inside her own head. Every moment wasted in a bright blank room when she could be helping people or not being in a cell. She thought about her sister, whose whole life was uprooted at the fall of SHIELD, but Rose was sure she could handle herself, she had never known anyone more capable. Still, she was worried. Their family had been complicated, and accidentally working for the same secret organization had been the most perfect coincidence. It took a few years but they got close again, rejecting childish resentment and competition. 

But Artemis wouldn’t come for her, she had never made a decision based on feelings before and was very unlikely to do so. If she came, it would take weeks at least and a well thought out attack or something of that nature. 

Although since she couldn’t use her powers, they were just building up inside her. Her own healing factor had sped up just by not healing people constantly. Her power had nowhere to go after she had gotten used to using it so much during the day. 

She was filled with energy that had nowhere to go. She was trapped in several ways, none of them very fun. She had to get out, no one was going to save her, they would be stupid to try. 

It turned out someone was stupid enough to try. Someone so wonderfully stupid to care about her. 

Against the odds, her sister was there, silently taking out a guard with ease. Her cheek was bleeding and bruised and she had the most feral look in her eyes, it was kind of scary. Artemis, who was calculating and calm at all times, who put so much thought into every decision she made, had left everything she had left to find her. Rose couldn’t help but smile. 

Artemis took the shock collar remote from the guard and unlocked the cell door with a stollen key card. 

“Hey Rosie, You’ve looked better…” She quipped while taking a moment to figure out which button on the remote took off the collar. 

“And you’ve never looked better. I’ve never been so happy to see you come in and knock someone out.” Rose grinned. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Artemis rolled her eyes and pressed a button that made the collar release a bunch of air. She gently took it off of her sister to see the deep indents that it made around her neck including the two electricity input and output spikes on each side of her throat. “Jesus… that does not look very comfortable.” 

“Imagine having to sleep in it.” Rose ripped her hands from the handcuffs behind her back and gently rubbed the sore parts on her neck. Once the pressure was removed, the bruises started to heal. She raised her hand to her sister’s bloodstained face and had a record-breaking healing session. Even small wounds would take a minute or two but this time it took seconds and it was kind of mesmerizing to see the process. 

“Thanks.” Artemis’ face relaxed as the pain eased. 

“It’s genuinely the least I can do. I’m guessing that if you haven’t been noticed, you just got noticed so uh, can we get out of here?” Rose left the cell and took a gun from the fallen guard. 

“No, I was planning on staying here forever…” Artemis grumbled. “Follow me, we have to get to the top deck.”

They almost made it up two floors before the first group of baddies came running towards them. Rose heard the frantic heavy footsteps on the metal floor before anything else and she cocked her gun. Her sister put her arm in front of her signalling for her to stop and let her deal with the problem. Rose nodded but stayed close anyway, partially because if her sister got hurt she would need to fix it and partially because she didn’t want to feel useless. 

Artemis caught the group by surprise and shot the front few guys before using one of them as a shield to defend herself from the other ones. She pushed them into the chaos and rammed her knee in the crotch of the closest guy. She wasn’t superhuman like her sister but she worked hard and was pretty damn strong. She kicked the gun out the hand of the guy whose nuts she just crushed and shot the hand of the guy who was moments away from shooting her. The fight kept going like that, her being too fast to shoot at and at some point pulling out a knife. 

Rose stayed out of sight and felt her blood run cold when she heard more footsteps. A lot more footsteps. They were going to get overwhelmed very soon. Even Artemis couldn’t take out so many people. 

The noise in the hallway stopped, Artemis finished the fight and looked a little winded. She walked back to her sister. 

“Don’t get tired yet. I heard more coming. I don’t think we can fight our way out.” She said grimly as she waved her glowing hand over the injured parts of her sister. She had taken a few heavy hits. 

“How do you feel about elevators?”   

***

When Artemis mentioned elevators, Rose thought about riding the actual elevator. Not climbing up the shaft with an endless drop at any slight mistake. She guessed that this was why she wasn’t a spy, it would’ve been too nice to just ride the elevator. Everything just had to be hard. 

They froze every time there was a noise and spoke in frustrated hushed tones whenever they had something to say. Like how not fun climbing up an elevator shaft in a massive prison ship was. 

The grumbling stopped when the elevators started to move and the elevator shaft became less of a death pit and more of a death trap. Rose had managed to get on top of one of the moving elevators and kept trying to get Artemis to come with her before it was too late. She was perched on a slight ledge far enough away from the momentarily stopping elevator that it would take a miracle to jump the gap and make it. The window of opportunity was closing fast. 

“Just jump! I’ll catch you!” Rose said frantically as she reached her hand out as far as it could go. 

“The fuck do you think I am? Captain America? Just go without me! I’ll catch up!” 

“I can literally catch you asshole, we don’t have time for you to whine about it!” Rose hissed. Artemis wasted precious moments to roll her eyes and carefully maneuver her body to the adequate leverage to maximize her jumping range. 

Then was the moment of truth. Artemis used all of her strength and flung her body at her sister as best as she could. 

It was so close. For a moment, their fingers just barely touched, enough to grab at the ends. Enough to delay the inevitable for a moment. 

“Go… I’ll meet you upstairs… okay?” 

“No… I can get you up… just hold on…” She said desperately. Artemis was already slipping one finger at a time. Rose had to keep her other hand on the elevator, any moment it would start moving again. 

“It’s okay, let me go.” Rose wouldn’t get the chance. Artemis slipped through her fingers. 

Then she fell. She didn’t even scream, but Rose did. In that moment, something flickered. For the briefest of moments, in the height of pure emotion, something within Rose changed. Her eyes glowed gold, her hair defied gravity and reflected light that wasn’t there, and then it stopped. And she was left alone. She didn’t even notice the moment of glowing potential. 

She was going back for her sister. The long way. 

***

It didn’t take long for Rose to get caught, but that was kind of part of the plan. Kind of. She didn’t have a fully fleshed out plan but she thought she had something at least. It was kind of hard to think after what happened. Artemis could be dead… no it would take more to kill her sister. She had never known anyone more resilient and with more pure will. She was like the John Wick of spies. Someone could break both of her legs and arms and she would still find a way to stand back up and wreck shit. A stupid elevator shaft wouldn’t take her out. Hopefully. 

Rose wandered around the halls. It wasn’t like there was a map of the place. She felt like she was in a daze, time was slow and blurry. Every sound felt far away… in fact… everything felt far away. She couldn’t focus. It could be the lack of food and water catching up to her but she doubted it. 

She was surprised that she managed not to bump into any hydra agents, she had noticed that a bunch of the cameras in the halls had been broken or even completely ripped off. There were still bullet holes and subtle bloodstains on the walls telling her this ship used to be SHIELDs and it was part of the hydra resurgence. Right at the front lines. They didn’t have enough time to fix everything and it was unlikely that some cameras on a prison ship would be a major priority for a reborn nazi organization. They were probably still getting rid of the bodies of the SHIELD agents they murdered. 

Like Artemis, sure it was a little more distantly but if hydra hadn’t emerged from the dark damp hell they came from then none of this would have happened. 

The last thought made her growl audibly, which is not something she just did normally. She doesn’t usually growl like a dog. She tightly balled her fists and decided that she couldn’t just stand there to absorb what just happened, she was still in the nest of the people hunting her. She was likely moments away from being found out and captured or worse. She had to get her shit together before there was a gun to her head. 

“You seem a little lost Rosie.” A deep voice came from somewhere ahead of her, it sounded like it was coming from an old intercom, it echoed eerily in the empty halls. The lights flickered a bit before blotting out sequentially, adding to the horror movie atmosphere. 

“Did you really think that we’d just let you go? No… no. You’re much too useful for us.” The voice continued. Rose didn’t say anything. She followed the voice to a touchscreen lock pad in front of a metal door and she didn’t hesitate to slam her already tight fist into it. It shattered on impact and pieces of plastic and glass littered the floor. 

“Well, someone’s grumpy! At least let me finish my monologue! I worked too hard on it!” The voice continued further away. Rose didn’t like being taunted. She was having a bad enough day as it was. She went to the next touchscreen pad and punched it. She just wanted the voice to stop. 

“We can keep doing this but property damage won’t fix your situation.” The voice grumbled from another further away speaker. 

“What do you want from me!” Rose yelled into the empty halls. 

“We want everything you can give. But we are willing to negotiate. We’ll let your sister go if you  surrender yourself to us.” 

“I thought negotiations required both parties to agree.” She said before she fully realized what had been offered. Her sister was alive, for now. That fact was both incredibly relieving and overwhelmingly anxiety-inducing. 

“That is our offer. Either she dies and we take you the hard way, or she lives and we get what we want. Simple.”

“Where is she!” Rose demanded. 

“Do you accept the deal or not?” 

“Yes, just let me see her, please,” Rose said desperately. 

“Good choice. There are people on their way to escort you to your sister. Thanks for doing business with us.” 

***

Rose was not glad to be back in cuffs and a godforsaken shock collar, but her sister was alive and would stay that way. That had to be something. 

She could feel the cold metal barrels of guns at her back and neck, she was surrounded by heavily armored Hydra agents who had no qualms about handling her roughly. She tried to appear strong and defiant but she was sure that they could see her tremble. One twitch if the trigger finger and she would be dead. Probably, she didn’t quite know the limits of her healing factor and she wasn’t keen on finding out. 

They turned a corner and there she was. Artemis was covered in blood and her left foot was pointing completely the wrong direction, but she was breathing and still had the sharp rage in her eyes. Right next to her was a stereotypical military man with a scar through his eyebrow and piercing his salt and pepper hairline. 

“Artie! You have to let me help her.” Rose ordered at the man who she assumed had been the voice she had heard earlier. 

“That wasn’t part of the deal. We let her go. That’s it. You should be thankful that we brought you to see her at all.” 

“If you don’t let me heal her, you’re going to regret it.” She snarled. The man laughed, it was harsh and mocking and going on for way too long. It made Rose even angrier. 

“What are you going to do? Heal my arthritis? You’re no fighter doc. She’ll be dead before you even lift a finger.” The man spat in Rose’s face, she didn’t wince and most of her energy went to keeping herself from ripping off the handcuffs and throttling the man until he turned blue. Although no one would see, a glow started to grow from the bones inside of her hands, illuminating her veins in a strange golden light. 

“Underestimating me isn’t good for your health, I should know. I’m a doctor.” 

“You know what, I’m sick of your attitude,” The man turned to the agents holding Artemis up, “Kill the sister. Maybe that will make this easier.” There was a click of a gun cocking before Rose reacted.

“No!” She yelled, but it was too late, the gunshot rang out and echoed among the silence and Artemis collapsed in a rapidly growing pool of blood. Rose felt like her bones were on fire, there was a blistering heat that encompassed every cell in her body. She could only hold it in for a couple seconds more. Just long enough for the man to look back at her and react in horror. 

Her bones glowed like they encapsulated all the light from the sun and her eyes glowed with the same light. Her skull and veins were visible through her skin and her messy hair started to defy gravity and reflect the light coming from her skin. The supernova of rage would explode any moment, there was nothing she could do to hold it back, but she didn’t really want to hold it back. 

It was like an explosion was continually off and Rose was in the center of it. There was a blast of bright golden light that blasted the hydra bastards around her to the ground. There were screams, but Rose didn’t hear them. 

There’s that saying of “too much of a good thing” that could apply. Too much healing meant bone where it shouldn’t be, skin where it shouldn’t grow, holes that shouldn’t be cut off. That’s what happened to anyone in the blast zone. The agents around her had shards of bone growing together, winding and twisting as if making an intricate Celtic knot. The bone grew from ribs, skulls, femurs, any large bone grew grotesquely beyond its limits and the small connective bones grew together making a terrifying group of intertwining statues. And that was just the agents around her. 

It took no effort for her to rip the handcuffs off, the shock collar was just as easy. She turned her head towards the uniformed man on the ground, trying to stumble away as his own body attacked him just by being in Roses presence. 

All she could feel was rage towards this man. She was so tired of being restrained. By chains or by her own need to keep her feelings from impacting her work. She was so so tired of it. Her power was connected to her emotions and she had always had to keep them in check, but not now. 

She walked steadily to the man trying to scramble away. His little rectangular glasses were broken and tilted on his nose. There was so much fear in his eyes. It made a strange scary little part of her happy. 

“Just a healer, no good for fighting…” She said, her voice was different, slightly non-human sounding. As if she was speaking as some ancient god, the kind whose voice could make an entire civilization fall to their knees. 

“You are right, this isn’t much of a fight.” She knelt down to look the man in the eyes. “If it was a fight, you would stand a chance.” 

“Stop this!” The man yelled shakily, “I’ll do anything!” He almost sobbed.

“You will not speak,” Rose said as the skin around the man’s mouth began to close in, “You will not see.” She whispered as she made his eyelids grow together. “You will not hear.” She hissed quietly. His ears slowly grew together as she said her last words to him. “You will be lucky to be saved, but you will not know. Actually, you would be lucky to die here. I’m sure you’d never want to run into me again. You should be glad that I didn’t just kill you for what you did to my sister. If anything, be fucking grateful.” 

She stood up, leaving the man on the cold ground. The room was quiet. No more screams. Only heartbeats. She didn’t kill a single person. With enough skill and time, they could all be saved. She planned to send out a distress signal, they would be found. But that was all she could ensure. 

The light faded. The flaming rage began to be replaced with empty sorrow and horror. She observed the room post-rage-explosion. She had never thought she was capable of anything like this. She had never thought that she could cause such… destruction. She breathed in a shaky breath and made herself look at her sister’s body. She gasped when she saw the rise and fall of her sister’s chest. She was breathing. She was still alive. 

 “Artie? Artie!” Rose ran to her sister and looked over her. There was no gunshot wound. Roses blast had healed her completely. Her eyes fluttered open when her sister reached her. 

“Hey… what…” Artemis wheezed, but Rose was already holding her in her arms and sobbing uncontrollably. For a while, they just held each other. Eventually, they were ready to leave. 

Rose was sure that hydra agents were still crawling in the ship but they stayed away from the sisters. There must’ve been some kind of surveillance of the event. They must know what happened somehow. Rose had no idea how but she was too tired, physically and emotionally, to care. 

They left the ship with no problems. They boarded Artemis’ hidden ship, perfect stealth tech that could change from a boat to a fighter jet, only big enough for three people at most if they really squeezed in. 

Rose sat in the co-pilot’s seat, though she wouldn’t be any help. Her sister would be doing all the work. It was silent as they shot off into the sky and hovered above the clouds for seemingly hours. She was using the holoscreen to look at her emails and had just switched to her super-secret SHIELD account. A certain email caught her eye. Its subject line was “Job Opportunity for Former SHIELD Agents” and it was from Stark Industries. Rose smiled a little. Maybe her life wasn’t over after all. 

[heungtanbts]

Claim Your Throne

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre/warnings: hades!au; implications of smut and a lot of sexual tension but das about it.

word count: 2k

“You were jealous when Lady Anthara was up there with me.”

From where you’re sitting on your bed, you shoot him a disgruntled look. “And how exactly are you so sure of that? You were all the way up there on your throne, and I was much too far and deep within the crowds for you to even see me.”

Hoseok stands from the purple velvet arm chair and begins to leisurely pace around your chambers, a long cloak of onyx smoke trailing behind him.

“When I first became ruler of the Underworld, I had a hard time sleeping.” Hoseok reminisces, clasping his hands behind his back as he paces. “A hard time functioning in general, actually. Why? Because it was too noisy for me.”

You can’t stop yourself from snorting. “What, the walls aren’t sound proof enough for Your Highness?”

He just smiles, ignoring your comment. ”As soon as I rose to the throne, I began to hear countless voices in my head. Agonized moaning and groaning, desperate pleas, pain-ridden wailing, a harrowing symphony of voices of the wretched. I came to realize they were coming from all the souls of the Underworld. And I could hear every one of their thoughts.”

Hoseok slows his pacing to a halt, shaking his head with a sad smile. “I figured it must be a curse that I am forced to live with, a small price to pay for full dominion over the Dark Realm.”

All the sass and rebellion inside of you dies in that moment, your heart genuinely feeling for him. “That sounds... awful.” 

Everyone knows the king of the Underworld is a powerful being that controls the army of the dead, but you’re pretty sure no one knows of this fact, one of the many secrets and hidden pains that lie behind the power. Though it doesn’t seem to bother Hoseok, at least visibly, as he shrugs it off immediately. “I quickly learned how to tune all the voices out. I had to, if I didn’t want to drive myself insane and wallow in eternal sorrow with them. Now I am very good at it and only hear what i want to hear.” From where he stands, his dark eyes find yours, and as if to further prove his point, he follows up with “So you think Lady Anthara is too weak and spineless to be my queen, huh?”

You freeze, the realization daunting. He can hear your thoughts as well. All of them.

“Its funny,” He makes his way over to the vanity, his movements painfully unhurried and relaxed as he unbuttons the cloak from around his neck, “I’ve mastered the art of tuning out the voices and multitude of thoughts, and yet,” he hangs the pile of billowing obsidian on the back of the chair, his gaze finding yours, “I can’t help but hear yours.”

The way your heart jumps in your chest nearly startles you, but you refuse to let that show. Instead you frown disapprovingly to cover it up. “Well I’d appreciate it if you could stop listening in and ignore mine too, please and thank you. It’s quite the invasion of privacy.”

You watch as Hoseok takes a seat at the edge of the bed where you are stationed, leaning on a hand on the soft mattress and looking like the origin of sin while doing so, strands of raven hair falling into his even darker eyes. He’s not even doing anything, not even touching you - he’s just sitting, all the while looking like the true king of the Underworld - powerful, majestic, incredibly sexy. In contrast, he tilts his head to the side, looking almost adorable and playful, well, as adorably playful as the overlord of the dead could be.

“I would stop if I could, love, but one - I can’t for some reason, and two - frankly,” his eyes twinkle darkly, “I don’t really want to.”

A surge of enraged heat rises inside of you. “Why you-“

Hoseok sighs nonchalantly, tracing his long index finger in the black silk, “You know, normally if anyone were to try to command me, let alone raise their voice at me like that, they’d find themselves taking a nice long swim with all the other souls in the River of Eternity.”

“Are you threatening me?” You retaliate, not feeling intimidated in the slightest. It’s obvious Hoseok, the conniving Dark Majesty Hades, is trying to mess with you, to get you to give in, but to what?

“No, I’m merely stating what normally happens in those cases. This is obviously not normal. Just so happens that you, my dear, defy all the odds.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Whatever do you mean?”

“You crave power, glory. The right to rule and have subjects bow at your feet. You crave me.”

His forwardness catches you off guard, a pit forming in your stomach. It’s true, deep down inside you long with all of your soul for those things. While most maidens of the Dark Realm want nothing more than a lover, the finest of wines and hot, passionate sexual escapades, you want those things and more. So much more. It annoys you to no end that he has guessed correctly about you. But that is all that it is - just a mere guess that happened to be correct. “What being doesn’t crave power and glory to some extent? And although you are objectively adequate in your looks and physique, you have no proof that I have ever thought such things.”

Hoseok clears his throat, “And i quote, ‘He’s so hot, I just want him to rip off his robes, come lay with me in my chambers, and grind up on me with his c-“

“That’s enough!” You rapidly cover his mouth with your hand, feeling crimson heat flood your cheeks. “At least you could have the decency to not say all of that out loud!” You’re absolutely mortified that he heard all of that. That means he knows just how long you’ve been pining after him, drooling over his power, daydreaming of his beautiful body all over yours, imagining holding his hand as you sit side by side on the throne. He knows everything.

“Unfortunately, I quite like my cloak so I opted to gently disrobe instead, against your wishes.” He smirks knowingly. “However, the rest of your sinful thoughts and fantasies I can most definitely make a reality.”

“Not unless I die from embarrassment first” You groan, head falling into your palms, ashamed.

Suddenly you feel Hoseok lean forward, so much that when you uncover your face, you find being cornered to lay back on the massive bed, head cushioned by ripples of black silk as he cages you in with his hands. He towers over you, his knees straddling one of your legs as you sink deeper into the mattress. The mouth-watering lines of his lean, carved body are visible even through the dark fabric of his robes as he hovers over you so closely, you can feel the heat, the raw power, radiating off of him. His eyes have somehow grown even darker, pupils blown out and brimming with lust, and that sight alone triggers another cascade of heat within you, this time not to your cheeks from embarrassment, but somewhere lower, a region where embarrassment no longer exists.

He takes his time trailing the back of his fingers down your cheek, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his surprisingly cool skin, his touch leaving shivers in his wake. Hoseok makes his way down the column of your throat, moving up and down the sensitive area in a light feathery motion that drives you mad.

“I must say,” your eyes open at the sound of Hoseok’s sultry voice as he continues explore the map of your body, grazing his fingers down your arm to draw light circles in the palm of your hand, “I do agree with you.”

“Agree with what?” you choke out, much too caught up in the way his fingers now dance across your collar bones and at the neckline of your bust. Your breathing is becoming more embarrassingly rapid and haggard by the minute, and it seems no matter how much air you take in, you’re still drunkenly dizzy from Hoseok’s scent and mere presence. He lowers himself down to an elbow so that now his body is laying on top of yours, melding into your shape and warmth, and you almost jump into the River of Eternity right then and there.

“Your thought that you’d serve to be a much greater queen than any other maiden out there.”

Your eyes widen, his tantalizing game momentarily forgotten. “God dammit, Hoseok, you just had to hear every single thought that crossed my mind, didn’t you?”

“I couldnt resist.” He leans in dangerously close, leaving barely any space between his lips and yours, “I can’t resist you.” His hot breath puffs against your lips temptingly, your heart rate sky rocketing at the feeling of his free hand now traveling further south to play with the hem of your shirt, Hoseok, Hades, is the omnipotent ruler of the Underworld, the most authoritative being in the Dark Realm, so why is he giving the Demon of Lust a run for his money with all his unbearable sexiness and god-forbidden ability to tease you to near death?

Hoseok suddenly laughs, the moment of thick tension broken, moving his head to the side to chuckle heartily into the crook of your neck. At first his reaction baffles you, but then in dawning realization, you immediately scowl. Seriously, damn him and his ability to hear your thoughts.

When his laughter finally dies down, his expression becomes serious, no signs of jest anywhere to be found. “Be my queen. Come, share in this great power of mine. Rule the Underworld by my side, as one of- no, as the most feared ruler in the universe. The Queen of Death, the Empress of the Dark Realm. Come, my love, come claim your throne.” Hoseok’s proposition is sinfully inviting, and to make matters worse he brushes his hips against your leg seductively as he says this, and you’re not sure exactly which “throne” he’s implying you should claim.

You find that you have a very difficult time ignoring the way your heart rams against your chest at the thought of spending the rest of eternity by his side, overseeing the Underworld together, indulging in the power and glory as one body, one unit. Having all of the Dark Realm at your feet, bowing in reverence and fear because of you, their feared Queen. You squirm slightly under Hoseok’s carnal gaze. Now you really don’t know which throne seems more tempting.

At your reaction, Hoseok’s lips curl up into a grin, “ I take that as a yes then?”

“I beg to differ, I haven’t said anything yet.” You quip defensively. It’s no lie that you crave power just as much as Hoseok does, that fact is just as obvious as the suffocating tension that lies between the two of you. This here is a power play you don’t want to give into so easily, all for the sake of your greed and pride. Your sanity is slipping between your fingers as the seconds pass, and you hate to admit that at this point, you’re barely hanging by a thread. Ideally, you not only desire complete domination over this world that he has claimed - you want complete and utter power over Hoseok himself. 

But completely opposite to how a ruthless, all-mighty ruler would act, Hoseok begins to scatter soft kisses all over your face. Rather than bring out the overwhelming authority you know he possesses and is just teeming with, instead he forces you to bow at your knees with his sensual touches, his lips lingering for a moment too long at the corner of your lips, knowing you want more than that, need more than that.

“On the contrary, you’ve already said quite a bit, my love.” Hoseok murmurs in between kisses, pausing every now and then to admire your flushed cheeks and lustful gaze.

You huff in a weak attempt to hide just how affected you are. “Will this ‘thought reading’ thing ever stop being so annoying?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “You may have said a lot with your thoughts, but actually you’ve said much more with your body, with your eyes. So much so that I didn’t even need to hear your thoughts to know.” He presses himself against you, eliciting an involuntary moan from your lips. “Come claim your throne, my queen - please.”

And that’s all it takes for you to give in, wrap your arms around his neck and urgently pull him towards to you, your lips finally finding where they belong - molded to his, whispering sweet nothings and eternal promises of pure pleasure against them. In the moment, you may have won by holding out until he gave in, but you both knew you were already done for the moment he stepped foot into your chambers. It was a losing battle from the very beginning, starting from the day his power and might claimed your heart many, many years ago. It’s been far too long since then, and finally, finally it is time to rightfully claim what is yours - tonight, you will claim your throne.  

---

A/N: i had a dream about hoseok as hades. i know little to nothing about greek mythology and the actual story of hades. i also did not intend for this to end up being about hoseok as super sexy, mind-reading, sultry king of the Underworld but that’s how it turned out sooo YEAH. also i guess i’m counting this as just a regular one shot. i hope you all can share in my pain with me thanks kbye.

[weareasong]

...

Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings

But I'm only going to get this one chance (Six minutes, six minutes)

Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes)

Just a feeling I've got (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)

Like something's about to happen, but I don't know what

If that means what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble

And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances

You are just what the doc ordered

I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

They said I rap like a robot, so call me rap-bot

But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes

I got a laptop in my back pocket

My pen'll go off when I half-cock it

Got a fat knot from that rap profit

Made a livin' and a killin' off it

Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office

With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his, nutsack

I'm an MC still as honest

But as rude and as indecent as all hell

Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)

This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop

You don't really wanna get into a pissin' match

With this rappity brat, packin' a MAC in the back of the Ac'

Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack

And at the exact same time

I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing that

I'll still be able to break a motha-fuckin' table

Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half

Only realized it was ironic

I was signed to Aftermath after the fact

How could I not blow?

All I do is drop F-bombs

Feel my wrath of attack

Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a maxi pad

It's actually disastrously bad for the wack

While I'm masterfully constructing this master piece as

Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard

Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got

Well, to be truthful the blueprint's

Simply rage and youthful exuberance

Everybody loves to root for a nuisance

Hit the Earth like an asteroid

Did nothing but shoot for the moon since (Pew)

MC's get taken to school with this music

Cause I use it as a vehicle to "bus the rhyme"

Now I lead a new school full of students

Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac

N.W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim

Inspired enough to one day grow up

Blow up and be in a position

To meet Run-D.M.C

Induct them into the mothafuckin' Rock 'n

Roll Hall of Fame

Even though I'll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames

Only Hall of Fame I'll be inducted in is the alcohol of fame

On the wall of (Shame)

You fags think it's all a game, 'til I walk a flock of flames

Off a plank and tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?

Little gay-lookin boy

So gay I can barely say it with a 'straight' face, lookin' boy

You're witnessing a mass-occur

Like you're watching a church gathering take place, looking boy

Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say, looking boy

You get a thumbs up, pat on the back

And a "way to go" from your label every day, looking boy

Hey, looking boy, what you say, looking boy

I get a "hell yeah" from Dre, looking boy

I'ma work for everything I have, never ask nobody for shit

Get outta my face, looking boy

Basically, boy, you're never gonna be capable of keeping up

With the same pace, looking boy

Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

The way I'm racing around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCAR

Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God

Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton-no Asgard, Asgard

So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent

Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm toting

And I should not be woken

I'm the walking dead

But I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating

But I got your mom deep throating

I'm out my Ramen Noodle

We have nothing in common, poodle

I'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil

It's me my honesty's brutal

But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though

For good at least once in a while

So I wanna make sure somewhere

In this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle

Enough rhymes to

Maybe try to help get some people through tough times

But I gotta keep a few punchlines

Just in case cause even you unsigned

Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime

I know there was a time where once I, was king of the underground

But I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind

So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine

Appeal with the skin color of mine

You get too big and here they come trying to censor you like that one line

I said on "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP 1

When I tried to say: "I'll take seven kids from Columbine

Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine"

See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was but I'm

Morphin' into an immortal

Coming through the portal

You're stuck in a time warp from 2004, though

And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for

You're pointless as Rapunzel with fuckin' cornrows

You write normal? Fuck being normal

And I just bought a new raygun from the future

Just to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad

'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's pad

Singing to a man while they played piano

So Ray J went straight to the radio station

The very next day, "Hey Fab, I'ma kill you!"

Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad)

Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assuming I'm a human

What I gotta do to get it through to you? I'm superhuman

Innovative and I'm made of rubber

So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you and

I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating

How to give a mothafuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating

Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting

For the day that they can say I fell off, they'll be celebrating

'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

"Oh, he's too mainstream"

Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it

"It's not hip-hop, it's pop"

'Cause I found a hella way to fuse it

With rock, shock rap with Doc

Throw on "Lose Yourself" and make 'em lose it

"I don't know how to make songs like that

I don't know what words to use"

Let me know when it occurs to you

While I'm ripping any one of these verses that versus you

It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurting you

How many verses I gotta murder to

Prove that if you were half as nice

Your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?

Ugh, school flunky, pill junkie

But look at the accolades, these skills brung me

Full of myself, but still hungry

I bully myself cause I make me do what I put my mind to

When I'm a million leagues above you

Ill when I speak in tongues

But it's still tongue-in-cheek, fuck you

I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel

I'm asleep in the front seat

Bumping Heavy D and the Boyz

Still "Chunky but Funky"

But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling

Angels fight with devils and here's what they want from me

They're asking me to eliminate some of the women hate

But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have

Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic

To the situation and understand the discrimination

But fuck it

Life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then

But if I can't batter the women

How the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?

Don't mistake him for Satan

It's a fatal mistake

If you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation

To trip abroad

And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard

Be a king? Think not

Why be a king when you can be a God?

(end)

[ah17hh]

rap 🎙 god ✝️ but 🍑 with ➕emojis 😎 for 4️⃣ lyrics 📝 via /r/emojipasta

rap 🎙 god ✝️ but 🍑 with ➕emojis 😎 for 4️⃣ lyrics 📝

Look 👀 , I 🙋🏼‍♂️ was gonna 🚶🏼‍♂️go easy 1️⃣➕1️⃣ on you 🧑🏻 not 🙅🏼 to hurt 😢 your 👉🏻🧑🏻 feelings 🧠, But 🛑 I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ only going to get ✊🏻 this 📍 one ☝🏻shot ⛹🏼. Something's wrong 🤨, I can feel it 🧐. Just a feeling 🤔 I've got 🙋🏼‍♂️, like something's 😦 about to happen 😨, but I 🙋🏼‍♂️ don't know what 🤷🏼‍♂️. If that 📍 means 📝✅ what I think 🙋🏼‍♂️🧠 it means 📝✅, we're 🌎 in trouble ⚠️, big trouble ‼️⚠️. And if he 🦹🏼‍♂️ is as bananas 🤪🍌 as you say 🧑🏻🗣✅, I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️not taking 🙅🏼✊🏻 any chances 🚫🎲, You 👉🏻 were just what 👌🏻 the doctor 👩🏼‍⚕️ ordered 📝! I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ beginning 🏁 to feel 🧠 like a Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, All my people 👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 from the front 🔝to the back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️, back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️. Now 📅 who 👤❓ thinks 🤔💭 their arms 💪🏼 are long 📏 enough to slap 👋🏻 box 🥊, slap 👋🏻 box 🥊? They 👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 said I 🙋🏼‍♂️ rap 🗣🎙 like a robot 🤖 , so call me 🤙🏼 Rapbot 🤖🗯🎙. But for me 🧑🏼 to rap 🗣🎙 like a computer 💻 must be in my 🙋🏼‍♂️ genes 🧬, I 🙋🏼‍♂️ got ✊🏻 a laptop 💻 in my back 🔙 pocket 👖, My 🙋🏼‍♂️ pen 🖊 will go off 🔥💥📝when I 🧑🏼 half 1️⃣➗2️⃣ cock 🔫 it🖊, Got a fat knot 💰from that rap 🗣🎙 profit 📈💵. Made a living 🏠💵 and a killing 💰😈💰off it 🗣🎙, Ever since 🔙📆 Bill Clinton 👨🏻‍🦳 was still in office 📍🏛 With Monica Lewinsky 👩🏻 feeling 🖐🏻 on his 👨🏻‍🦳 nut-sack 🥜🌰. I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ an MC 😎🗣🎙 still as honest ♾💯🤷🏼‍♂️, But as rude 🥱🖕🏻and as indecent 🤬🗯as all hell ‼️, syllables 1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣. skillaholic 📝➡️😃, Kill 'em 🔪☠️ all 👨‍👩‍👦‍👦🌍 with; This📍flippity 🤸🏼‍♂️ dippity 🤮 hippity 🐇 hip hop 🗣🎙🎶; You 👉🏻🧑🏻don't 🙅🏼 really wanna 🚫📝 get into 📍 a pissing match 💦🤼‍♂️ with this 🙋🏼‍♂️ rappity 🗣🎙brat 😈👶🏼 Packing 🧳 a Mac 💻 in the back 🔙 of the Ac 🚗, backpack 🎒 rap 🗣🎙 crap 💩 , yap yap 🗯💬 yackety-yack 🗣🥱 And ➕ at 📍the exact 💯 same time 🕑➿🕑 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ attempt 🏃🏼these 👉🏻lyrical 📝 acrobat stunts 🤸🏼‍♂️ while I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ practicing 🧐That I'll 🧑🏼still be able 👍🏻 to break 💔 a motherfucking 🧓🏻👉🏻👌🏻 table 🪑 Over the back 🔙 of a couple of faggots 👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 and crack it 🪑 in half 1️⃣➗2️⃣ Only realized 😳 it was ironic 🤭 I 🧍🏼was signed 📋 to Aftermath 🏢🗣🎙 after 🔜 the fact 1️⃣➕1️⃣🔜2️⃣. How could 🤔 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ not blow 💥? All I do 🙋🏼‍♂️💯 is drop F-bombs 🤬🗯💣, feel my wrath 😠 of attack 🔪🙍🏻 Rappers 👱🏻‍♂️🗣🎙 are having a rough time 📉⏱ period 🩸, here's 🤲🏻 a Maxipad 🩹. It's actually 🤓☝🏻 disastrously 🌋🌪 bad 😧😰 For the wack 🥱😴 while I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ masterfully 💯🤷🏼‍♂️👑 constructing 👷🏼‍♂️🛠 this masterpiece 📝🖼 as- I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ beginning 🏁 to feel 🧠 like a Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, All my people 👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 from the front 🔝to the back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️, back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️. Now 📅 who 👤❓ thinks 🤔💭 their arms 💪🏼 are long 📏 enough to slap 👋🏻 box 🥊, slap 👋🏻 box 🥊? Let me 🙋🏼‍♂️ show 🤲🏻 you 👉🏻🙍🏻maintaining 🧑🏼‍🔧🛠 this shit 💩 ain't 🚫 that 🙅🏼‍♂️ hard 🧱 , that 🙅🏼‍♂️ hard 🧱 Everybody 👨‍👨‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👧‍👧🌍 wants 🤲🏻 the key 🔑 and ➕ the secret 📂🤫 to rap 🗣🎙immortality 🚫☠️ like I have got 🙋🏼‍♂️👍🏻 Well, to be truthful 👱🏻‍♂️🖐🏻📖 the blueprint's 📝📃 simply rage 😡 and youthful 👶🏼🧒🏼 exuberance 😄‼️ Everybody 🌎 loves ❤️ to root 🥳🎉 for a nuisance 🤪 Hit 🤜🏻 the earth 🌎 like an asteroid ☄️ did nothing 🙅🏼 but shoot 🏀 for the moon 🌙 since 📆 MC's 🙎🏻‍♂️🗯🎙 get taken 🚕 to school 🏫with this music 🎶 ‘Cause I use it 🙋🏼‍♂️🗯🎙as a vehicle 🚗 to bus 🚌 the rhyme 🎶 Now I 🙋🏼‍♂️ lead a new 🆕 school 🏫 full of students 👨🏻‍🎓👩🏼‍🎓; Me 🧑🏼? I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️a product of Rakim,➕Lakim Shabazz, ➕ 2Pac 🧑🏾‍🦲,➕N.W.A, ➕Cube 🧊, ➕ hey Doc, ➕Ren, ➕Yella, ➕Eazy, thank you 🙏🏻, they got 🔜 Slim 👱🏻‍♂️🙋🏼‍♂️ Inspired 🤩 enough to one day ☝🏻☀️ grow up🧑🏼🔜👱🏻‍♂️, blow up 💣💥 and be in a position 🏢 To meet Run DMC 🏃🏿‍♂️🏃🏿‍♂️🏃🏿‍♂️ and induct them 🧑🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲🧑🏾‍🦲into 🔜 the motherfuckin' 🧓🏻👉🏻👌🏻Rock n' Roll 🎸 Hall of Fame 🏤🤩 Even though I 🙋🏼‍♂️ walk in 🚶🏼‍♂️the church ⛪️ and burst 🧍🏼‍♂️💥 in a ball of flames 🔥🏃🏼‍♂️🔥

Only ☝🏻 Hall of Fame 🏤 I be inducted in 🔜 is the alcohol 🍺 of fame 🤩 On the wall 🧱 of shame 😔 You fags 👉🏻👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 think 🧠💭 it's all 💯 a game 🕹🧩 'til I walk 🚶🏼‍♂️a flock 🐦🐦🐦 of flames 🔥🔥 Off a plank 🏗 and, tell me 🗣🙋🏼‍♂️ what in the fuck 🤨⁉️ are you 👉🏻🧑🏻 thinking 🤔💭 ? Little 🤏🏻 gay 👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻, So gay 📈👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ can barely 🙅🏼‍♂️ say it 🗣 with a straight face 😐 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻 You 👉🏻🧑🏻 witnessing 👀 a mass-occur 😵🔫 Like you 🧍🏻watching 👀 a church gathering ⛪️take place 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻 Oy vey 🔯😦, that boy 🧑🏻is gay 🏳️‍🌈, that's all they 👉🏻👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 say 🗣 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻. You 👉🏻🧍🏻get a thumbs up 👍🏻 , pat 👋🏻 on the back 🔙, And ➕ a "way to go" 👏🏻👍🏻 from your 🧑🏻 label 🏢 everyday 📆➡️📆 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻 Hey 👋🏻 looking 👀 boy🧑🏻, what ❓you🧍🏻say 🗣 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻? I 🙋🏼‍♂️ got a "hell yeah" 🔥👌🏻 from Dre 👨🏾‍🦲 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻. I'mma 🙋🏼‍♂️ work for 👷🏼‍♂️🗣🎙 everything 💯 I have 🏠🚗💰, Never 🙅🏼‍♂️ask nobody 🚫🗣 for shit 😤, get out of👋🏻👉🏻 my face 👱🏻‍♂️ looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻Basically 💁🏼‍♂️ boy 🧑🏻 you're 👉🏻🧍🏻 never 🙅🏼‍♂️ gonna be capable ✅ of keeping up 🏃🏼‍♂️💨🏃🏻with the same 🚫👱🏻‍♂️ pace 🗣💨🎙 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻

I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ beginning 🏁 to feel 🧠 like a Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼 All my people 👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 from the front 🔝to the back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️, back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️. The way I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ racing 🏃🏼‍♂️ around the track 🔁 , call me 🤙🏼 Nascar 🏎, Nascar 🏎 Dale Earnhardt 3️⃣👨🏻⚰️ of the trailer park 🚍🏚, the White Trash God 👱🏻‍♂️🗑🤴🏼 Kneel🧎🏻before General Zod ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🦹🏼‍♂️ this planet’s 🌎 Krypton 🌑, no 🙅🏼 Asgard 🌕, Asgard 🌕 So you 👉🏻🧑🏻 be Thor 🦸🏻🔨 and I'll 🙋🏼‍♂️ be Odin🤴🏼, you 👉🏻 rodent 🙍🏻↔️🐀, I'm 👱🏻‍♂️ omnipotent 🤯 Let off ✋🏻then I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️reloading 🔫immediately‼️with these bombs 💣 I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ totin' 🧳 And I 👱🏻‍♂️ should not 🙅🏼 be woken 😴🚫⏰

I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ the walking 🚶🏼‍♂️dead 😵 but I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️just a talking 🗣 head 👱🏻‍♂️, a zombie 🧟‍♂️ floating 🛫; But I 🙋🏼‍♂️ got your 👉🏻🧑🏻 mom 🧓🏻 deep throating 🍆😮 I'm out my Ramen noodle 🍜 , we 👱🏻‍♂️🧑🏻 have nothing 🙅🏼 in common 🧑🏻🚫👱🏻‍♂️, poodle 🐩, I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ a doberman 🐕, pinch yourself 🧑🏻🤏🏻 in the arm 💪🏼 and pay homage 🙌🏻🙏🏻, pupil 👨🏻‍🎓 It's me 💁🏼‍♂️, my honesty's 🗯💯 brutal 😖 But it's honestly 🗣💯 futile 🚫✏️ if I 🙋🏼‍♂️ don't utilize 🙅🏼 what I do though 🗣🎙For good 👍🏻 at least once☝🏻in a while 📆 So I 🙋🏼‍♂️wanna make sure 🔎✅ somewhere in this 📍 chicken scratch 📝 I scribble 🖊 and doodle 🖍 Enough 📊 rhymes 🗣🎙to maybe 🤷🏼‍♂️ to try and help 🤝🆘 get some people 👨‍👩‍👦 through tough times 🙇🏼‍♂️📉📆 But I 🙋🏼‍♂️ gotta keep ✊🏻 a few punchlines 🤣📃 just in case🤞🏻 ‘Cause even you 👉🏻 🧑🏻unsigned 🚫✒️📋 Rappers 🗣🎙are hungry 😠🍽 looking 👀 at me 🙋🏼‍♂️ like it's lunchtime ⌚️📍🕛 I know 🙄 there was 🔚 a time 📆⏰ where once ☝🏻, I 🙋🏼‍♂️ Was king 🤴🏼 of the underground 🏚🚧, but I 👱🏻‍♂️ still 💯 rap 🗣🎙 like I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ on my 🙋🏼‍♂️ Pharoahe Monch 🧔🏿 grind 💯 So I 👱🏻‍♂️ crunch rhymes 🎶, but sometimes ⏰ when you combine ➕ Appeal 👨🏻‍🎤🗣🎙with ➕ this skin color 👱🏻‍♂️ of mine 🙋🏼‍♂️You get too big 📈‼️ and here they come 🏃🏻🏃🏻‍♂️ trying to Censor you 🤭 like that one ☝🏻 line 📝 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ said 🗣 on "I'm Back" 🔥 from the Mathers LP One 💽 when I 🙋🏼‍♂️ tried to say 🗣 "I'll 👱🏻‍♂️ take seven ✋🏻➕✌🏻 kids 👦🏼👧🏼 from Columbine 🏫 Put 'em all 👦🏼👧🏼 in a line 📈, add ➕ an AK-47 🔫4️⃣7️⃣, a revolver 🔫, and ➕ a nine 9️⃣🔫" Let’s🧍🏻🧍🏼‍♂️see 👀 if I 🙋🏼‍♂️ get away 🏃🏼‍♂️ with it 📝 now 📍📅 that I 🙋🏼‍♂️ ain't as big 🙅🏼‍♂️📈 as I was 📈🔜📉, but I'm 👱🏻‍♂️ Morphin' 〽️into an immortal 👱🏻‍♂️🔜🦸🏼coming through 🏃🏼‍♂️the portal 🌀 You're 👉🏻🧑🏻 stuck 😖 in a time warp 🌀⏰ from 2004 🔙📅 though And I don't know 🤷🏼‍♂️ what the fuck 🤨 that you 🧑🏻 rhyme for 🗣🎙❓You're 🙍🏻 pointless 🚫✏️ as Rapunzel 🧝🏻‍♀️ with fucking 👉🏻👌🏻cornrows 🤔 You 🧑🏻write 📝 normal 😐, fuck 🖕🏻being normal 🤪 And I 🙋🏼‍♂️ just brought a new 🆕 Raygun 🔫 from the future 🔜📅 Just to come 💁🏼‍♂️ and shoot ya 🙍🏻💥🔫 like when Fabolous 🧑🏾‍🦲 made Ray J 👨🏾‍🦲 mad 😡, ‘Cause Fab 🧑🏾‍🦲 said 🗣 he 👨🏾‍🦲 looked 👀 like a fag 👬🏾 at Maywhether's 👨🏾‍🦲🥊 pad 🏦 Singin' 🗣🎤🎵 to a man 🧔🏻 while they 🧍🏾‍♂️🧍🏿‍♂️played piano 🎹 Man oh man 😰, that 🔙 was a 24/7 special ☀️🔁🌙 ♾ on the cable channel 📺 So Ray J 👨🏾‍🦲 went straight 🔜💯 to the radio station 📻 the very next day 🔜📅 👨🏾‍🦲🗣🎙 "Hey 👋🏻 Fab 🧑🏾‍🦲, I'mma 🙋🏾‍♂️ kill you 🔪🧑🏾‍🦲" Lyrics 📝 coming at you 🗣🎙at supersonic 🌀 speed 🎶🏃🏼‍♂️💨 Uh 🤔 sama lamaa duma lamaa 🤔🤨 you 🧑🏻 assuming I'm a human 🧍🏼‍♂️ What I 🙋🏼‍♂️ gotta do 🤷🏼‍♂️❓ to get it through 🔜 to you 🧑🏻 I'm superhuman 🦸🏻‍♂️ Innovative 👷🏼‍♂️and I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ made of rubber 💪🏼 So that anything 🗯 you say 🗣 is ricocheting 💢 off of me 💁🏼‍♂️ and it'll glue to you 🙍🏻 I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ devastating 🌪🌋, more 📈than ever 📅 demonstrating 🧑🏼‍🏫 How to give 🤲🏻 a motherfuckin' audience 👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👧‍👧 a feeling 🧠 like it's levitating 🛫 Never 🚫 fading 🙅🏼‍♂️📉, and I know 💁🏼‍♂️ that the haters 😡🖕🏻 are forever ♾ waiting 😐⌚️For the day 📅 that they 🙎🏻‍♂️🙎🏻can say 🗣 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ fell off 📉, they'd 🧑🏻🙋🏻‍♂️ be celebrating 🥳🎉 ‘Cause I 🙋🏼‍♂️ know the way 🔜✅ to get 'em 🙎🏻🙎🏻‍♂️ motivated 🏃🏻💯‼️ I 🙋🏼‍♂️ make elevating 😇 music 🎶 , you 👉🏻🧑🏻 make elevator music 😴🎶 “Oh, he's 👱🏻‍♂️ too mainstream 📈” Well, that's what they do 🙎🏻🙎🏻‍♂️when they 🙎🏻‍♂️🙎🏻 get jealous 😤👿 they confuse 🤨⁉️ it 🗣🎙 It's not 🚫 hip hop 🗣🎙, it's pop 🎤👱🏻‍♀️, 'cause I 🙋🏼‍♂️ found 🔎 a hella way 🔥 to fuse it 🎙➕🎤 ➕ With rock 👨🏻‍🎤🎸, shock rap 😧🗣🎙 with Doc 👨🏿‍🦲 Throw on Lose Yourself 💽🔥 and make 'em 🌎 lose it 🤯 “I 🙋🏻‍♂️ don't know 🤷🏻‍♂️ how to make songs 🎶💿 like that 👉🏻👱🏻‍♂️, I don't know 🤷🏻‍♂️ what words 📝 to use 🗣🎙” Let me 🙋🏼‍♂️ know when it occurs 💡 to you 🙎🏻‍♂️ While I'm 💁🏼‍♂️ ripping any one ☝🏻of these verses 📝 that versus 🆚 you 🙋🏻‍♂️, It's curtains 😴, I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ inadvertently hurtin' 😫 you 🙎🏻‍♂️ How many ❓verses 📝 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ gotta murder 🔪 to Prove ✅that if you 🙎🏻‍♂️were half 1️⃣➗2️⃣ as nice 🙂, your songs 🎶 you 🙎🏻‍♂️can sacrifice 🔥👹 virgins too, uh 😠! School 🏫 flunkie ❎, pill 💊 junky 🧟‍♂️, But look 👀 at the accolades 🥇🏆🏅 the skills 👷🏼‍♂️ brung me 🙋🏼‍♂️🔝Full of myself 🤷🏼‍♂️, but still hungry 😋🍽 I bully myself 🙎🏼‍♂️🖕🏻🙍🏼‍♂️ cause I 🙋🏼‍♂️ make me 👱🏻‍♂️ do what I 🙋🏼‍♂️ put my mind 🧠 to And I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️a million leagues 💯 above you 📈, ill 🤒 when I 🙋🏼‍♂️ speak in tongues 🗣🎙 But it's still tongue 👅 in cheek 😉, fuck you🖕🏻 I'm drunk 🥴 so Satan 👹 take the fucking wheel 🚗 , I'm asleep 😴 in the front seat 💺 Bumping 🔊 Heavy D and the Boys 🔥 Still chunky 🤨 but funky 🎶 But in my 🙋🏼‍♂️ head 🧠 there's something 🤔 I can feel tugging and struggling 😖 Angels 👼😇 fight with devils 👹👺 and, here's what ‼️ they want from me 🙍🏼‍♂️ They’re 👹👼 asking me 👱🏻‍♂️ to eliminate ❌ some 📊 of the women 🙎🏼‍♀️ hate 😠🖕🏻But if you 👉🏻 take into consideration 🤔 the bitter 😡 hatred 🤬 I have 🙋🏼‍♂️Then you may 🤷🏼‍♂️ be a little 🤏🏻 patient 🙇🏻 and more sympathetic 😕 to the situation 🙍🏼‍♂️ And understand 💡 the discrimination🖕🏻👩🏼‍🦰 But fuck it 🤷🏼‍♂️🖕🏻, life's handing you lemons 🍋? make lemonade 🥤 then ‼️ But if I 🙋🏼‍♂️ can't 🙅🏼‍♂️ batter 🤜🏻 the women 👱🏻‍♀️, how the fuck 🤔 am I 🙋🏼‍♂️ supposed to bake 👨🏼‍🍳🔥 them 👩🏼 a cake 🎂 then? Don't 🙅🏼‍♂️ mistake 🔀 it 🙋🏼‍♂️ for Satan 👹. It's a fatal ☠️ mistake if you 👉🏻 think 🤔💭 I 🙋🏼‍♂️need to be overseas 🌊🚢 And take a vacation 🏝🏖 to trip 🦵🏻🏃🏼‍♀️a broad 👱🏻‍♀️, And make her 🙎🏼‍♀️ fall on her face 🙍🏼‍♀️ And don't 🙅🏼‍♂️ be a retard 🤪🥴, Be a king 🤴🏼? Think 🤔 not 🙅🏼‍♂️, why be a king 👑❓when you 🙋🏼‍♂️ can be a God 🙋🏼‍♂️?

Submitted May 11, 2020 at 10:26AM by blueberry_five via reddit https://ift.tt/3cjnLNs