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Punk!Hetalia X Singer!Reader: One Milliion Dollars
Punk!Hetalia X Singer!Reader
You never thought that your group “World Wide”, would actually make it
this far. Next week you had your first real live gig and you were going to
go on stage, be on television, and rock the house with your band. It was
made up of about 10 people all together but there were only five singers.
Those five were no other than Francis Bonnefoy (The Romantic), Arthur Kirkland
(The Gentleman), Alfred Freedom Jones (The Heartthrob), and Kiku Honda
(The Sensibile) and you (The World Diva).
You were very excited that you would actually be able to be on live TV.
This whole week you’ve looked for outfits, bought new accessories, rented
a coach bus, and practiced every afternoon till late at night. This was
gonna be huge and you were pretty popular within your neighborhood.
You had gotten colorful extensions in your hair and bought a whole bunch of
vibrant make-up for everyone to put on. Your make-up stylist was Taiwan who
was always so pretty and great
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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