#my greatest hope is that anything ive ever said on here somehow helped someone who was or is still in the place i used to be

[queenquid]

bit of a personal monologue below (tw suicide mentions, self harm)

if you had told me six years ago that I'd be entering my last year at the JC and then transferring to a "real" college with actual plans for my life in the next 5-10 years I would've thought you were optimistic at best, cruelly naive at worst. the person i was at 25 was so checked out and miserable and angry and afraid all the time. but everything i've accomplished, even if its little compared to where i "should" be at age 31, is all due in thanks to that person. if i'd given up back then, i'd be dead by now. i thought about suicide every single day, and everything was so dark and it felt like i was being suffocated by my own stagnancy and lack of purpose. but she didn't give up, i didn't give up. even when i would silently sob or hurt myself or try to die again and again some small part of myself could never fully let go of the hope of finding or creating something better. and i'm not saying im perfectly mentally healthy, because that's not a real thing that people are, but the way i handle stress and anxiety has fundamentally changed. all it took was 6 years of serious therapy with medication on and off and my willingness to face dark and hurtful parts of myself. to be brutally and vulnerably honest with myself and with someone else.

and also. the dark truth is that my moms death completely freed me. everything i do now, i do out of her horrendous shadow. the complexity of our relationship will never be fully understood, nor do I want to devote any more of my precious time to it. but her dying was the best gift she ever gave me.

so a big thank you to my mom for dying, and an even bigger thank you to me from six years ago who looked at our life and said if we don't change we'll die and i don't want to die. i want to live. and so now im going to live my life however i can and i'm looking forward to it.

[raspberryfanfics]

twelve nejiten first kisses

mostly lots of hot stuff but there’s a bit of angst and fluff here and there

i.  As Tenten shoves dango down her throat, she realizes that he’s staring at her with an expression she hasn’t seen until now. “Uh—Neji? You hanging in there—” Before she can finish her question he’s kissing her, mouth over her own. She’s in so much shock that her eyes are still open but with the slight tug of his teeth on her lip, they quickly flutter closed.

ii. He pins her to the tree, Byakugan pulsing furiously as his breaths come panting. Her tenketsu are sealed, she’s lost, yet there is still a fire in her eyes, rushed with adrenaline. Neji realizes that is breathing is started to get more and more ragged as she struggles in his grip, biting her lower lip. Tenten looks hot. She looks hot in a non-platonic way and he is trying very hard to push those thoughts down. Letting every ounce of self-control slip through his fingers, he slams his lips into hers, devouring the soft moan that escapes from her lips. It a furious battle from there, a new type of spar, and he has no intention of losing. 

iii. He looks more peaceful than she has ever seen him. Tenten’s breath catches in her throat as he stares at the birds, laying flat on the grass. A small hint of a smile teases on his lips, but she can tell that he’s beaming on the inside. Neji’s beautiful, more beautiful than she can ever hope to be and he feels so out of reach. Yet he’s open at the moment, exposed, happily vulnerable, and despite the distance he seems to be at, she feels like maybe if she leaps, she will make it. It feels like the greatest risk of her life when he closes his eyes in content and she leans in, softly touching her lips to his. He doesn’t do anything, is so still she wonders if he has gone unconscious. Tenten can’t breathe, wonders if this will affect them, if it will ruin the most precious relationship of her life. When she pulls back, his eyes are still closed. After a moment, he lets them flutter open, this time his smile is wider, her heart pounds quicker. Neji curls his hand around the back of her neck and brings her in for another one and she is so filled with relief that she laughs and tumbles around the grass with him.

iv. He wishes he could ignore it, wishes he could ignore the man dancing with her and slowly sliding his hand down her waist, inching close and closer to where no one should be touching her. Does she even know? Does she enjoy it? Neji adverts his gaze and down the rest of his shot. It’s all just hormones, he refuses it to be something else. But at the first yelp from her voice, he snaps his attention back to her and his hand is between her legs.  He pushes back his chair and is storming near her, ready to murder someone, yet it appears that she has beat him to the chase. Instead, he has to pull her away from castrating him, despite wishing that she would do so, and she struggles against his hold. “He tried to—” “And he won’t ever try again,” Neji mutters into her and she nearly slaps him across the face too. Suddenly, she groans and jerks herself away from him.  “Man, it was all for nothing,” she sighs. “What was?” “I was trying to make you jealous!”  And that’s all he needs before he takes her wrist and kisses her like there’s no tomorrow.

v. “I hate you!” she cries. She pounds her fist into his chest over and over and she’s probably hurting him. Tenten is strong, her punches are strong, and there is no way he doesn’t feel it.  Yet he takes it. He lets her take all the pain and put it on him, lets her blame him. And it hurts that he loves her so much to let her hate him if it give her peace. However, it doesn’t give her peace. It gives her no peace at all to know that he will endure it for her.  Tenten sobs into him this time and he wraps his strong arms around her protectively. He’s warm, safe, and she wonders why she can’t love him like he loves her.  She quickly grabs his jaw and kisses him, feels him tense as their lips meet, but he responds weaker than she thought he would. When she pulls back, his eyes are sad. Has his feelings changed already. “I don’t want you to kiss me because you pity me,” he whispers, and she has seen exactly how she has broke him.

vi. “I’m going to kiss you,” he says, and her eyes widen in shock.  Before she can say anything, he presses his lips over hers. One hand is holding her chin and the other supports her waist.  For a moment, she’s still and he wonders if he had made a mistake with all those signs. Yet he feels her smirk against his lips and she confidently puts a hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest. When he pulls away, Tenten is grinning mischievously.  “About fucking time, Hyuga,”

vii. He’s mad. Oh, Neji is really fucking mad.  Tenten can only back up as he strides towards her with his super fucking long legs and she feels her heart beating faster and faster with every step closer. It’s until she’s backed against a wall when he stops, something burning his his pale eyes that screams anger, power, and lust.  God, the lust excites her so much that she feels wetness pool between her legs, though it is far from the first time she has felt so aroused by him. Neji pushes his palms into her shoulder, his breaths coming quick and heavy. After so many weeks of this tension, she wonders if he’s gonna burst, if he will finally give in. She swears that if he doesn’t take her against the wall and pulls back she will personally— It happens. It happens so quickly that she can barely respond, can’t respond because he’s everywhere so quickly. All she can do is open her mouth and allow him access, allow him to do whatever he pleases with her until he decides to finish. 

viii. “I love you,”  Neji turns his head to look at her and she’s in such a normal position, sharpening her weapons casually. He almost wonders if she actually said it but he doesn’t doubt it. “You can’t love me,” he says simply. Tenten raises an eyebrow. “Can’t as in it’s impossible to love you or that I’m not allowed to?” “Both,” he says, still gaping at her confession. She only shrugs and puts her weapons down, a confident smile on her lips. Neji doesn’t understand how she can say something so casually, if she even knows what love is. Yet she isn’t stupid so it confuses him that she, a girl who is the bird he longs to be, would fall in love with someone lower than the worms in the soil. “Whatever,” She slides her hand over his jaw and he freezes because somehow, her touch sends electricity buzzing through his veins. Her eyes flutter to his lips and he can’t breathe until she gives him a quick kiss, then pulls back, satisfied. When she leaves the training field, he touches his hand over his mouth, feeling so strangely light.

ix. “Fuck, I think they’re onto us,” Tenten hisses. “Kiss me,” “What—mmph!”

x. “Fuck, I think they’re onto us,” Neji hisses. “Kiss me,” “What—mmph!”

xi. It’s funny, because after seducing him the whole night, causing him to choke every second, she wasn’t even prepared for him to actually seduce her back. Now she’s practically cowering as he stares at her intensely, desire clouded in his gaze. It’s hard to believe that their roles have switched so quickly. “Wh—What do you want?” she (barely) manages to choke out. “That’s a good question,” he leans into her ear, taking a nip below it. It draws a gasp from her lips and her eyes instinctively flutter shut, a delicious feeling forming inside of her. When he trails tiny kisses below her jaw, Tenten can’t help but tilt her head up and moan with soft pleasure. “I want a lot of things. I want you under me, your wrists pinned under my hand, above your head.” She gasps as he sucks at her throat. It’s bound to leave a mark. “I want you begging me to touch you, where you want, teased to the brink,” Heat shoots to the spot between her thighs.  “And I want you screaming my name as I fuck you senseless—” “Hurry up and get on with it, Hyuga,” she cries, barely able to breathe with how hot he’s making her. “Gladly,” And he finally devours her, enveloping her lips in his. 

xii. “Neji,” she says softly. He sees tears around her eyes and wants to wipe them away. Yet he can’t move, he can only lie in her arms as she supports his neck with her hand. “You better not die on me,” A weak smile forms. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Tenten,” She kisses him right there and then, even though both of them are covered in blood, whose blood they do not know, even though they have just receded from a vicious battle. And honestly, he doesn’t care, doesn’t think to care. It’s just her and him, no one else. It’s all he can ask for. 

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

My laptop is currently updating, so while I have that working in the background, I wanted to share a series of six short, mostly-opera-inspired autobiographical narratives/prose poems I wrote last April and May:

I would kill to have some wine right now.

There is a bottle of red wine sitting on the kitchen counter. My father bought it when he went to the store the other day─ don’t ask me what day it was, I don’t remember, the days already blend together as is─ and I have considered pouring even just a little bit into a glass and downing it.

And then proceeding to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it.

I’ve been contemplating doing that a lot lately.

True, I would kill to have some wine, but if I did go ahead and pour even just a little bit into a glass, and down it, and possibly then proceed to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it, I would most likely be killed before I had the chance to kill.

Kill or be killed. We are all trying our very best to do neither these days, but it happens anyway.

I am sixteen years old. As I start writing this, I am nine days away from turning seventeen. For me, alcohol consumption is thus not only not approved by the Parents, but also illegal. But then again, so is voting blue in the 2020 US Presidential election. That is also something neither approved by the Parents nor legal for me. But I digress.

Thirty-one, twenty-nine, thirty-one again, sixteen now, that makes sixty, ninety-one, one hundred and seven days since I watched one of my classmates get drunk at a New Year’s Eve party. She downed a whole bottle of peach wine (I didn’t even know that was a thing) and looked at me with her red eyes and silver-sequined halter top and curly dark brown hair in a high ponytail. You’re more beautiful than Jesus she told me and you’ll go to the moon on a rocketship. I laughed.

I laugh when something’s so unexpected I can’t do anything else. I laughed when I first heard Notre Dame Cathedral had caught fire because it seemed so ludicrous that I couldn’t do anything else. Notre Dame on fire? You can’t be serious, it can’t be serious.

It was serious.

I’m not sure if she was.

A little part of me wishes she were.

When I was in sixth grade, I told the same girl I thought her hair was luscious. Sixth-grade me didn’t know the word had a sexual connotation; the girl did and was offended.

Maybe a little part of me did know, somehow.

***

As I write this next part, I am working on a paper about state-sponsored censorship. I have picked this topic because it is a fascinating topic, it fits the requirements for the paper─ write about a major global problem─, and because I feel censored myself.

Expressing anything that conflicts with the Parents’ thoughts and opinions is strictly forbidden. If you are different, you are ostracized. I am different, so I am ostracized.

I am too proud, too strong to succumb. But it still hurts.

As I write this, I am listening to Act IV of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, an opera about liberation, appropriate for both me and my paper. At this moment, Hedwige is calling on God, ‘the hope of the hopeless’, to save her husband and break the yoke of oppression that binds Switzerland.

It’s very nice, and the sentiment is good and true, and it works for her and Mathilde and Jemmy and the Swiss women, but it does not work for me. I lost my faith a long time ago. Ironically, it is French grand opéra, the genre to which Guillaume Tell belongs, that is partially responsible for my loss of faith.

It was impossible for me to watch Verdi’s Don Carlos for the first time in eighth grade and Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots in tenth and not be horrified by the things people do in the name of religion, to kill people senselessly just because they believe slightly differently than them─ even their own daughters (as is the finale of Les Huguenots).

How can a good God allow such things?

Do I realize these works are fictional? Yes. But do I know they are based on history, on real events? Yes.

“These things are meant to happen; they are all in God’s plan.” Well, can God just not find another way to make what’s meant to happen happen? I cannot believe in a God that allows these things to happen. To say that an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good God who can allow such things exists is a lie.

***

Now that Guillaume Tell is over, I am listening to another grand opéra, Les vepres siciliennes, albeit in its Italian version, I vespri siciliani. Another opera about occupation and liberation, but a liberation that comes at a horrible cost: the entire French ruling class is massacred by the Sicilians at the end of the opera.

If I didn’t care, I would stage my own personal ‘massacre’: I would turn my back, walk out the front door with the possessions I most needed to survive on my own, and never come back.

But I do care. They may not care, but I do.

One of my greatest curses is that I care about what I care about too much. My heart is too deep to not care.

There are some battles that are not worth being fought.

If a massacre is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing. Or, at least try to find another way.

Right now, I am at the beginning of Act III, at Monforte’s aria “In braccio alle dovizie”. In the original French, it’s called “Au sein de la puissance”. At the breast of power.

Monforte is the hated French governor of Sicily, the revolutionaries’ primary target. When he sings this, he has just learned that one of the main revolutionaries, Arrigo, is his long-lost illegitimate son.

By rape.

‘The breast of power’ indeed.

Just like with a massacre, if rape is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing either.

Just a thought.

I’m a woman. What do I know, in the eyes of many out there?

One of my friends said that Verdi gave Monforte his just deserts, but also overly beautiful music. “He couldn’t help it, though, not when his Dad Music Instincts were activated.”

I feel guilty listening to the aria, even though it is truly a beautiful piece and the recording I’m listening to─ a 1989 recording from the Teatro alla Scala, with Giorgio Zancanaro as Monforte─ is absolutely gorgeous.

Can we separate the music from the character, the art from the artist? I do not know. Everyone has something utterly heinous to someone else. Once we stop separating the art from the artist, where do we begin again? And yet, I do not want to support people who do horrible things to others.

Perhaps it is all relative.

Perhaps everything is.

Perhaps nothing is absolute at all.

That frightens me.

***

Today is Rome’s 2,773rd birthday. As a six-year Latin student and future classics and history double-major, this is cause for celebration.

If things were normal and I were at school, my Latin teacher would bring birthday cake for all the Latin students, and we’d eat it and sing “Felix dies natalis, Roma”. Happy Birthday, Rome.

But things are not normal, and I’m at home multitasking between this and a presentation script for that paper, and still listening to I vespri siciliani.

Now I’m at the end of Act IV. Everyone is celebrating the impending marriage of Arrigo to Duchess Elena, one of the Sicilian revolutionary leaders. Sicilian and French, united at last. Everything is set to work out.

But there’s still Giovanni da Procida, the other major revolutionary leader, who is hellbent on revenge. He sees this wedding as the perfect opportunity to strike down the French once and for all.

And thus, the massacre.

Everything can be set to work out, but there is always something that comes up. A massacre, a pandemic, a set of internal troubles that bring a proud empire to its ruin.

Now I’m in Act V, at Elena’s bolero ‘Merce, dilette amiche’. She has no idea about Procida’s plans; she’s just excited to marry Arrigo and bring peace to her beloved Sicily at last. I think I’m going to change operas again after this is over; the act is rather uneven (though I still very much like it) and I would prefer not to listen to everything falling apart today.

I debate listening to Berlioz’s Les Troyens, the closest thing to an opera about the founding of Rome and a masterpiece itself. But there is still too much about collateral damage for my tastes today: one kingdom falls and another loses its benevolent queen, all in the name of a supposedly greater destiny. And that’s just based on the first third of the Aeneid. I wrote an essay about that first third once for English class, using that thesis; my English teacher said it was one of the best essays he’d ever read. But I digress.

After a quick refresher on the synopsis, I decide to change styles and go with a story from the heyday of the Roman Empire: Handel’s Agrippina. Lots of plotting, but everyone gets what they want in the end and it ends happily for all. No collateral damage here. I am weary of that.

Sometimes I feel like collateral damage.

It’s tough to remember that you’re the master of your own story, not just a side character or a scapegoat in so many others’.

Everyone in this opera knows they’re the masters. That’s the problem. But it ultimately works out.

I want nothing more than for it to work out for me. It hasn’t yet.

But I have a feeling it will.

***

I got maybe halfway through the first act of Agrippina yesterday. I love Baroque opera, but I guess only in small doses.

No matter.

Today I’m listening to the beginning of Act II of Verdi’s Don Carlo. This is the fourth time in a row I’ve listened to it.

I read John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down recently. The main character frequently finds herself stuck in ‘thought spirals’, where she keeps thinking more and more about the same thing. I have those too, although I tend to picture my mind more as a bullet train: it always moves hundreds of miles an hour, faster than I can control, from one thought to the next. I constantly find myself retracing the figurative map of my mind to figure out what I was thinking about, what I need to remember but simply cannot. And it’s like my mind keeps returning to the same stations a lot; these are my equivalent to the spirals.

This opera, this moment, is one of my frequent stations.

Make that five times in a row now. This will be the last, I promise myself.

In this scene, a group of monks chant, praying for the rest of the dead Emperor Charles V, whom, I note with a smile, was himself a character in one of Verdi’s earliest operas, Ernani. In that opera, he sings an aria where he confronts his destiny as the next Holy Roman Emperor. My legacy will live throughout the ages, he sings.

Including in two different Verdi operas.

But there I go again on another bullet-train route.

The monks are singing now, their stark minor-major shifts making me feel as if I am there, in the cloister of San Yuste or in any of the great cathedrals of Spain, looking up into the vaults of the ceiling, of heaven itself, seemingly. The only lights come from candles in my mental picture, and I gaze up, my head uncovered, my mind only partially spellbound, more by the visual beauty and the history than by any religious feeling.

I am a heathen.

I have only been inside a Catholic church once, when I was fourteen; it was an impromptu side trip during a school-sponsored tour of colleges in St. Louis. One of the chaperones said the Cathedral Basilica had can’t-miss art, and thus managed to get a large section of the attendees to come with her.

She was right. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. And that was all I thought.

Okay, that’s a lie. I did wonder what it would be like to be able to have faith again, to be able to kneel in one of the pews, and pray, and believe, as my ancestors have done before me; after all, if religion were something you inherited in your blood, then I would be half-Catholic.

But I cannot kneel and pray and believe.

In this scene, one of the monks claims that Charles V fell because he was too proud, because he believed that he was greater than God. If a god exists, I do not claim to be greater than them. I am not perfect, not by a long shot.

He did not die because he did not believe in God. He died because everyone dies, even those who are supposedly the greatest of us.

God alone is great, the monk proclaims. I do not, cannot believe that. We are all great to begin with, but some of us are led to believe we are not.

We are the masters. I must remember that.

And I realize that I have let it play a sixth time.

Sometimes I am not the master of my own mind.

***

The sixth time was the last.

Now I am at the end of the act, listening to the showdown between Filippo II, King of Spain, and Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa. Filippo is the guardian of the way things are; Verdi called Rodrigo an anachronism, and indeed, he was the only principal character who never existed.

Rodrigo, he said, was at least two centuries ahead of his time.

I don’t know what exactly Verdi’s feelings were about this, but personally, I do not think this is a bad thing. Progressivism is often progressivism in any age.

At any rate, Rodrigo, who has recently returned from Spanish-held Flanders, has taken his chance─ a rare private meeting with the King, who is confused as to why Rodrigo has never approached him for favors like all the other courtiers─ to confront him about the horrific conditions of Flanders and its people. Give them liberty, he pleads.

No. I have given them the same peace I have given Spain.

A horrible peace!, Rodrigo fires back. The peace of the tomb!

We should not have to suffer until death.

Let history not say of you, “He was a Nero.” A murderer of innocents, a torturer of the defenseless, an occupier, a denier of liberty─ perhaps the greatest torture of all.

I once watched a video in which a director said, “To live in an occupied country is to live only half a life.” I would say that to live in an occupied country, or even any place where you cannot be free, cannot live fully as yourself, is not even that. It is to barely live at all. It is to merely have a beating heart and breath.

To live in spite of this, to simply be as you wish, is the ultimate act of defiance.

[bluesakurablossom]

Guardian Angel

This was a rewrite of number 87 since I wanted to make it better, hope you all enjoy it <3

You knew that if you did this there would be no going back, you knew how much trouble you would be in if anyone caught you, but you still went ahead and did the unthinkable. This was your mission and you had to be there……for him. You were in a secret laboratory in some kind of underground research facility. You were meant to save someone who needed your help and with that you didn’t hesitate to take action. When you had taken out the people who were guarding this person, you had used your special song to lure them to sleep as they fell to the floor as you sang quietly. You had entered the room and found outside an observatory window was a huge metal tank were the number 87 was written on the doors. You thought it was a bit strange since it seemed very large for just one person to be in by themselves. Refocusing you were meant to save this individual from a certain death, you were just only hoped to have been able to reach him in time.

You stepped forward and noticed the two locks with keys to open the tank and you turned both keys to the chamber making a siren go off. You rose your hand to shut both of the sliding metal doors to block anyone from coming in and luckily only the people in the room that could have heard it as they laid still asleep as the huge metal doors began to unlatch. They slid open slowly as you made your way from the observation room down the stairs to stop right in front of doors. You saw water come sipping out from the room, separating into puddles. You weren’t entirely sure if it was bodily fluid or something else as it nearly got at your shoes. Your heart was racing, you weren’t sure on who you were going to see based on what you had seen prior, but your curiosity seemed to be getting the better of you. Inside was nothing but pure darkness, you couldn’t even see a few feet in front of you. The thought of being trapped in that darkness for that long was torture, and the fact that he had been in there for so long made it much worse.

“Leonardo, come on out, don’t be scared”, you called out gently “It’s okay love, you can come on out now”

You didn’t hear anything for a moment till you heard scratchy breathing getting louder and louder. You stepped a bit closer to see what it was and to your amazement and horror, you saw a thin pale green three fingered hand grip the huge metal door till it was met by another. You gasped softly seeing a giant body greet your sight but it wasn’t a person, no, it was a giant turtle! Yes a giant turtle, one that had walked on two feet like an actual human, but as he stepped forward putting all his weight on the door, you gasped in horror seeing how emaciated he was as he made a wobbly step letting go of the door. He had barely any weight on him, you weren’t sure how he was still alive from how thin he was. Even at a distance you could see every bone in his body, he looked so malnourished, like he hasn’t eaten in weeks or even months at that. His skin was so pale green, like all the color had been drained from him. “Oh my…”

You weren’t able to finish your words….

He had stepped out making a splash with his foot from the fluid that came out from the room and you saw him step into the light with white bandages tied tightly around his head and some kind of metal helmet underneath where you couldn’t see his face. You weren’t entirely sure what it was for or why he had that on his head, but it looked like it made it barely breathable.

Only a pair of blue shorts covered his extremities and there was some kind of huge tube that was forced between his legs as it dragged from behind him with each step that he made. Very slowly he made short steps as he continued to breathe scratchy walking towards your direction, even with being blind by the bandages he was walking straight towards you. You stepped closer holding out your arms carefully to him. “Good, easy steps”, you said, softly “One foot at a time..”

As he got closer you knew he was weak and you couldn’t believe the condition that he was in, it was beyond horrific and grimacing. Even though you didn’t who he was, not even a person like himself should be suffering like this. But as he made one more step towards you, he began to wobble unsteadily very quickly and with the lack of energy and nutrition caused him to fall face first on the ground forcing the tube out of his body releasing some weird grey mushy substance. You gasped worriedly as you ran to him and you quickly knelt down to him, your hands gently touching his icy cold shoulders.  You turned him over gently being careful not to hurt him anymore than he might be, his body was freezing against yours as you carefully used your hand for supporting his head as his cracked shell rested on your bent legs and you looked down at him with deep concern. The fall had cracked part of the metal helmet where you could see his mouth and skin that was dry and badly cracked from dehydration. “Oh my gosh, you poor thing, what did they do to you?”

You felt a few tears drop from your eyes, you felt so bad for him. Never in your life would you see such cruelty. Why must humans here on Earth be so spiteful, cruel, and evil towards such people, it didn’t make much sense on why it had happened to him. Your hand carefully unraveled the bandages around his head till they slid down to his side and you finally saw his face. It was filled with pure innocence and deep scars. Pale blue eyes opened slowly and his head turned slowly towards you as you felt more tears bubble in your eyes. His eyes quickly showed fear but you were quick yet gentle to touch his chest over his pounding heart. “Leonardo…I am here to help you”

“W-who are you?”

His voice was scratchy from lack of use. “An angel, an angel who was sent to free you”

“An A-Angel?”

You nodded once and he slowly began to smile and he was able to somehow reach his hand up to where it touched your face. Even though it was calloused and cold, it was soft and had meaning to it. Relief was now finding him and it overcame him like a tsunami as he collapsed against you with his eyes slowly shutting. “You are going to be okay…you will pull through…”

The words echoed in his ears as his world once again went dark

Soon his mind came back to life as he woke up in a strange place where underneath him, he felt the softness for the first time in the years of his imprisonment. A heart monitor slowly beeped beside him as it showed his vitals were stable. Warmth of a comforter covered him, relieving him from the bitter cold as well as warm pillows that supported his head. As he looked down to his right arm, he could see more needles were piercing through his body. His mind quickly panicked as he shot up in bed trying to pull at the tubes.

“It’s okay…it’s okay…it’s okay”

You were by his side carefully placing your hands on his to stop his actions. “It’s just IV, it’s helping you with hydrating your body…I promise you it’s not taking anything out of you”

His eyes looked to you and back to the tubes and he could see the fluid entering his body. Coming to realize you were being truthful he settled down and released his hand from tubes and look up to you. “You have been out for quite awhile but I was able to take care of everything that they had done, you are a miracle to have survived for that long..it’s going to be awhile before you walk again but we are on the right path’”

He wasn’t sure how he was still alive, after the years of abuse, torture, and pain he should have been dead long ago, but somehow something kept him alive, but it seemed like death was a gift, he wished it had come to him sooner. “Why did you help me?”

“What?”

“Why did you help me? This doesn’t make sense”

The last thing he had ever thought would happen was to be released from his confinement and be actually meet someone who didn’t want anymore suffering or pain to come to him. It must be some strange dream that he didn’t seem to be waking up from and he was back in that dark room, suffering every day like he had been for so long.

“Cause I am not like what other people are, I had a vision and I sensed something was wrong and I saw you, something didn’t seem right to me….I had to know what was going on….something told me to do what I had to do…when I saw you coming out of that room, I only had wished that I had been there sooner if I had only that privilege then to be able to come down and free you”

“What are you talking about?”

His confused face showed it all, what did you mean to come down? You sighed softly and pushed back your jacket he had seen you wearing when he saw you and saw beautiful white angel wings spread out from behind your back. They were as white as white can be and the feathers looked as soft as clouds as they gently flapped behind you. “You see….when I said I am an angel, I literally meant that…I am a guardian angel and I was sent to liberate you and to heal you. Each one of us is given someone who is at their greatest pain and suffer and we are sent to relieve, to nurture, and to heal those who we are not meant to be in the state that they are in, I’m your guardian angel, Leonardo”

He was taken back at the words as you knelt to him and gently took his hands into yours. “Warmth, love, joy, you had everything good taken away from you and those monsters were the ones that took it. Leonardo, not a moment went by since I saw you that I had wish I had known you existed before so you wouldn’t have had to gone through everything you were put through….I will make sure that they won’t take you again and I am here to stay, if you wish me to be”

“But I don’t want you to get hurt, not for defending me, that’s not right…”

His hands released from hers as he turned his head away, she was risking her own self to be putting herself in danger to protect him. To him it wasn’t right for her to be doing this, not for someone like him.

She smiled and climbed up closer to him and took his hand again which made him turn back to her. “Whether if it is right or wrong…I am your angel, if you want me to stay, I shall stay but if not, I will go”

His mind was silent as he let everything settle on what was happening, someone like him has an angel that would keep him safe from harm has been sent to him. As much as he adores and forever thankful that she risked herself to save him, he didn’t want her being hurt by the monsters who had done what they had did to him, to her. But looking at her she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he was lost at the beauty that she had. Her eyes were as bright as crystals, her hair soft as silk, her wings beautiful as her. Her gentle smile never faltered as she waited for him to speak.

“As much as I don’t want you to be hurt, I want you to stay….I owe you so much for everything that you did for me..”

“No need to pay me back…being able to be your guardian is the greatest gift that I can ever receive, I shall then stay and from now on we will always be together” Your smile widened as his slowly lifted, tears bubbling in his eyes. He had finally found what he had been waiting for all this time and it was here and now.

The tears landed gently on your hand as pulled him into a gentle hug. He was tense at first till he relaxed and buried his head into the crook of your neck, keeping you locked in the embrace. Your wings gently hiding him from harm into another soft embrace. It was his first time feeling pure love, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last as he held you. it would be a long road ahead of them both for a chance of peace, healing and love, but this was first step taken towards recovery.

[kz-i-co]

“I’ll Let You Know”: Part IV

» Summary: Jealously is the best medicine.

» Pairing: Kim Namjoon (RM)/ Reader

» Genre: smut

» Words: 3.4k

» Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ╫ Part 5

» m.list ╫ bts masterlist

-

You collapse against the wall once you left the classroom. "So the rumors are true. You have been sleeping with your Professor and I know which one." You saw those dumb boys once again and you looked at them with panic.

"Wait until the whole school finds out."

"Who do you think it is now?" You folded your arms acting confident.

"Professor Kim." He said being correct.

"Why gee, how did you know?" You said being over sarcastic. "Get a clue jerk off and but out of my business." You snapped.

"Wait it's not Professor Kim?" He asked questioning himself.

"Professor Kim is taken, what kind of girl do you think I am, besides I don't play for that team." You winked causing him to be flustered. You rather have any other fake lie made up about you then being with Professor Kim. That could put his job in jeopardy and you rather have them believing anything else.

On your way out you quickly tried to get far away as possible. You looked back to see if they were falling you. Once you saw the coast was clear you looked back ahead, suddenly bumping into a tall figure, knocking you down.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." You looked up seeing the tall figure tower over you. You saw a handsome guy with light brown hair look at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You said brushing it off as he grabbed your hand helping you up.

"I didn't see you." He smiled shyly.

"It's okay, I didn't watch where I was going." You blushed softly. He was handsome but he wasn't Namjoon. "Are you a student here?"

He laughed. "No, I'm just dropping off paperwork for my father."

"You're father?" You asked being noisy.

"Dean Kim." He nodded with a smile.

"Oh so your father is the big boss." You smirked.

"Yeah.....I'm Jin." He finally said his name.

"I'm (Y/N)." You batted your eyelashes. "It's really nice to-" You got cut off from someone grabbing your arm suddenly.

"(Y/N) I need to talk to you about that stunt you pulled." You heard Namjoon's voice.

"What?" You looked at him confused but suddenly hit you that he was jealous.

"Excuse us, the Dean wants to see you." He said and led you away.

He pulled you into the first door he saw, which happened to be a janitors closet. He had you pinned against the door with rage.

"Hello Professor Kim, is there a problem." You teased.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked annoyed.

"What? I was just having a causal conversation." You twirled your hair around your fingers.

"You were flirting."

"I was not." You laughed. He looked at you with a blank expression. You loved this look on him. It made him sexy.

"You were." You could feel his breath brush your neck as he got closer.

"You really want to fuck me inside this janitors closet?" You asked being a tease as you played with his belt.

He gave out a frustrated groan and moved away. "We can't here."

"It's always we can't." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry I don't want to risk my job." He mentioned again.

"I know, I know. But you were the one to pull me in here remember." You said folding your arms.

"I know." He said leaning against the wall.

"How about I make it up to you." You smirked while getting on your knees in front of him.

"Again?"

"I can't help it, I love it." You twirled your finger around his private area. "This will be the proof I wasn't flirting." You rubbed the area gently.

"I don't know." He said unsure. "The janitor can come in at any moment."

"The doors locked right?" You asked while undoing his belt.

"Yeah but he has a key."

"It will just be a quickie." You said again and rubbed your hand up and down quickly. "You say you don't want this but I know you all too well." You pulled him out seeing him full erect.

"Maybe I should flirt with other guys more often." You smirked finally putting him in your mouth.

"So you admit you were flirting." He said tilting his head back from the pleasure.

"Maybe I knew you were watching me." You licked down the side, getting him more moist.

"I've already told you I wanted this, why would you do that?" He asked feeling weak quickly as you bobbed your head at a rapid pace. "This is about Professor Choi isn't it?"

You pulled him out suddenly as precum dripped down the side. "You may not believe it but take it from a girls point of you, she's totally into you."

Your hand jerked him off for a few before you had your mouth back where it was. "Are you sure?"

"Hmmhmmm." You confirmed not stopping.

He tilted his head back once again moaning softly causing you to be wet yourself. He grabbed onto the back of your head causing you to go faster and you couldn't hide your smile. He was always a softy when it comes to your sexual life but you knew he had dominance in him some where and you couldn't wait to find it.

"Fuck, you need to hurry." He moaned. He was already 5 minutes late to his next class.

He started gyrating his hips towards your mouth to add more momentum to try to push him over the edge. You felt your gag reflex come into play as he hit the back of your throat. You felt you were running out of breath and needed a break until you felt that warm substance fill your mouth and he stopped immensely. He moaned softly being defeated and you smiled while swallowing.

"It's my turn next time." You got off your knees and wiped your mouth.

"I can arrange that." He smiled while putting himself together. "I have to go but I'll see you later." He kissed you quickly before leaving the small room.

You gave it a little time before sneaking out. You looked at the end of the hallway and you saw that Professor Choi has stopped Namjoon and she even had her arm locked around his as they walked further away.

She was into him and you never felt more angry in your life. You knew it was safe to know that Namjoon wanted you but you were worried she would somehow twist her way into the center. "Fucking bitch."

"Let me get this straight. It seems like Professor Kim is dating Professor Choi but you both walk out of the same closet?" You turned around to the annoying boys.

"What do you want from me? A blowjob?" Your annoyance was already full throttle.

"That offer is tempting but maybe a little something else."

"I'm not having sex with you." You said loud and clear.

"How about a date?" He asked.

You laughed in his face. "In your dreams."

"Not a real real date, there's this girl I like and was wondering if you could make her jealous." He gave hopeful eyes.

"But then I would have to constantly hang out with you and I rather jump off a cliff." You rolled your eyes.

"Maybe you can be my ex and you're still so in love with me." He said with a smirk. "Unless I can spread how happy I am for you and Professor Kim. You guys are so cute."

"You're a pathetic virgin who probably has the smallest dick at this school." You snapped.

"Oh you. I'll see you tonight yeah?" He said not being dazed by your insult.

Tonight? You had something with Namjoon tonight.

"Tonight or you can forget about-"

"Alright, I'll be there." You cut him off and walked away.

"Thanks (Y/N)."

....

"You're coming, that's a surprise." Sam said as you walked down the road with them. You hated frat parties and now you were forced to go to one.

"I'm bored." You just shrugged.

You received a text back from Namjoon explaining why you would be late. He understood and you just couldn't wait until you can snuggle up into his arms tonight.

"Psst." You heard a sudden noise taking you away from your friends. You looked over and saw the little twerp. "We should probably walk in together."

"Why? If we are playing ex's." You asked.

"Because you are still madly in love with me remember." He said. "Now pretend you're following me."

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told. "What's up my party people." He said as he walked in. He was such a joke.

You tried to hide your smile as a few people snickered off to the side. "What do you want (Y/N) I told you we are seeing other people."

"Please no." You acted and grabbed his hand.

He laughed as he noticed the girl he liked look his way. "Come on, it's over."

"But how will I ever find a guy with a big dick like yours." You said and he looked at you startled. "Please one last time." You moved your hand down his front, you weren't sure if anything was really in there to be honest.

"I'm sorry. I can't." He let you down and walked over to the drinks. You watched as the girl he liked followed him. Is your mission over can you leave?

"I have a big dick." A random guy tried to talk to you.

"I'm sure you do." You gave a look of disgust and walked away.

You walked over to the drinks as well and wanted to take a few with you.

"Hey." That girl touched your shoulders. "Sunjae is willing to hangout if it is the three of us." You saw him nodding his head behind.

You tried to hide your sick laughter. "Are you inviting me to a threesome?" She nodded.

"How dare you? He is my man and I rather have him all alone." You said and he looked startled.

"Forget it." He quickly interrupted. "She just needs time to process everything." He took the girls hand and walked away.

"Asshole." You said downing a drink.

.....

You walked all the way to Namjoons house to find him not there. He texted you as you reached the door step and said something came up and he need to visit Professor Choi. He also confirmed to not be worried because he wasn't into her but you did anyway.

-

"Thank you so much." She smiled as he handed back her speech. "I don't even know why Mrs. Sung asked me to do this, I'm horrible at speeches."

"You're fine. Your speech is very well written." Namjoon said.

"Thank you." She smiled. "More wine?"

"Yeah." She poured him a cup.

"Your speech will be the greatest tomorrow night. The board will be proud."

"I'm still in the same boat as you, I don't know why they picked me." He sipped his wine to the very last drop.

"Because you're amazing at everything. You're smart, caring, charming, handsome, kind, handsome." She finished her glass as well. "Did I say that twice." She giggled to herself as she placed her hand on his knee and working its way up.

He looked at her hand and once he looked up she crashed her lips with his. The thing was he didn't stop it. He regretted the wine since it has gotten to his head. He was picturing you as she continued to kiss him deeply. She had her hands all the way to his most sensitive area and began to rub the area, just like you. She stopped kissing him and started to kiss down his neck and she continued to pleasure him outside his jeans.

"(Y/N)." He moaned your name and Choi immediately pulled away.

"Whose (Y/N)?" She asked.

"Fuck." He said getting up quickly and grabbing his things.

"Wait Namjoon, Who is she?" She asked confused.

"I'm sorry Kat. I should have never come." He said with regret.

"I've known you for years and I've never seen a girl with you." She started to get angry.

"Just leave it alone please." He said with sadness in your eyes and finally left her speechless.

-

It was Saturday night and you couldn't get into contact with Namjoon all day. He was too busy practicing his speech and you decided to leave him be. Until tonight. You got dressed in your most formal attire since it was an important event and walked inside. It was an event for the board members of the school and faculty or any family they wanted to bring.

You saw Namjoon with a glass of champagne as he talked to the Dean of the school. "What are you doing here?" You saw the familiar Jin.

"I'm an important part of this event." You said.

"Aren't you a student?" He asked amused.

"Yes but I helped decorate this place so I just wanted to see how well everyone likes it." You lied.

"Very nice." He smiled.

"You're here for your daddy." You said in a baby voice.

"Yes Of course. He's talking to one of the schools most finest teachers." Namjoon was more popular then you thought. You saw Professor Choi come into the circle. "Professor Choi she is pretty impressive as well. I'm glad the school can be a source of well acquainted relationships."

"What?" You said anger filling up.

"They came here together, didn't you know." You knew but you hated how it was rumored they were dating.

Namjoon's eyes caught yours and he came with an excuse to use the bathroom. As soon as he passed you, he touched you gently to signal you to follow him. "Excuse me Mr. Jin, I have to use the ladies room." He smiled at your choice of name and you continued on your way.

"You and your DATE are really the talk of the party." You said growling through your teeth.

"What are you doing here? Students can't come to this event." He said stressed out.

"I just wanted to see your speech." You said giving innocent eyes.

"Thank you." He smiled.

"And no worries, I wasn't flirting with him, he was talking about his dad." You said.

"I know, I trust you." He said letting you smile. "I need to tell you something." He started and panic started to overcome you.

"What is it?"

"You were right." He was almost afraid to say it.

"Right about what?" Your impatience rising.

"Choi likes me."

"Did something happen between you two?" You asked stepping closer as he leaned against the bathroom sink. "Namjoon." You raised your voice from his silence. "Did you fuck her?"

"No." He quickly responded seeing how angry you were. "We just made out a little."

Your eyes began to water and you couldn't help but pace back and fourth. "Look (Y/N) its not as bad as you think." He grabbed your shoulders causing you to be still. "Please don't cry."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"What? Listen-"

"You two deserve each other." You tried to get away.

"(Y/N) listen to me. We were both drunk and I stopped it in time." He said.

"You still cheated."

"I thought it was you." He said.

"Yeah right." You pushed him away.

You attempted to leave again but he pinned you against the wall. "I love you (Y/N) not her."

You were taken back by his words. You never said those words before and it still melted your heart anyway.

"You love me?"

"Yeah." He smiled.

"Well how am I going to trust you when you drink?" You asked wiping the tears.

"I don't drink often, you don't have to worry. And if it makes you feel any better, I called her by your name."

"My name?" You began to panic.

"She doesn't know your name, so relax." He smiled.

You began to feel butterflies. Even under the influence you were all he can think about.

"All you did was kiss?" You asked again and he nodded. "You owe me."

"I know, I'll make it up to you but I have to go make my speech soon." He pursed his lips.

"Okay." You smiled and he kissed you hard on the lips before leavening the room.

Should you punish him? Maybe....

.....

"Thank you so much for this opportunity." He began.

"Hey." You whispered getting closer to Jin. You felt awkward standing by yourself, especially for not belonging.

Jin smiled at you as you both started to listen to his speech. Jin leaned down to whisper in your ear that your dress tag was hanging out. You fluttered being embarressed letting him tug the annoying material back in.

You heard Namjoon stuttered, followed by a cough to clear his voice and you looked up seeing his eyes on you. You gave a thumbs up as he continued his speech.

Once it was over the board still shook his hand as he did an excellent job besides his slight slip up. After he was free, he grabbed your hand dragging you back stage where he knew no one would interrupt. "I apologized and you get back at me like that?"

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "Jin? He was fixing my dress."

"That was an excuse to touch you." He said.

"That was why you chocked up." You said from the realization.

"Who does this guy thinks he is?" He said angry.

"Calm down." You giggled. "God your so hot when your jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed off." He said.

"You're jealous, admit it." You said. "Am I gonna get punished?" You smirked.

"(Y/N)." He gave you that familiar look.

"He whispered in my ear and touched me here all the way down here." You traced your curves and lifted up your dress revealing you had no underwear on. "There is still an hour left of this event. That's too bad, I'm so wet." You rubbed your fingers down your clit.

"Why do you do this to me?" He whined.

You shrugged with an evil smirk. He had you pinned to the wall in seconds as he kissed you roughly. His hands snaked their way under your dress brushing your soaked center. You wrapped one leg around his waist giving him more access.

"I can't deal with foreplay right now." You whined.

He smiled and turned your around leaning you over the exit stair case railing. You heard him unzip his trousers and seconds later jammed himself into you without warning. You moaned biting your hand to not cause any noise.

He slapped your ass as he thrusted into you at a rapid pace. Like you predicted. His jealously was a good look on him and you enjoyed every second. The railing was rubbing coldly against your chest as you held on tightly. His hands were digging into your hips causing you to meet him in the middle making the momentum faster.

"Tell Jin if he touches you again, I will make sure he will never step foot in this school."

His angry words were causing you to almost reach your end. "Tell Professor Choi if she touches you again, I will claw her eyes out." You moaned a little loudly having instant regret.

He slapped your ass one last time before you felt him jerk inside you with a unsteady rhythm. He slowed down immensely as he felt his climax. The sensation had you weak in the knees as you felt your rush of pleasure as well. He pulled out quickly and zipped himself back together. You stayed still until you let the white liquid pour out.

Once you stood up once again you were uncomfortable from the stickyness. "I might go home early." You giggled.

"How about you go out to my car and I'll meet you out there in 15 minutes." He said kissing your hand.

"Okay and I love you to."

You blushed and walked out from the stage as you bumped into someone not even paying attention to who it was. "Excuse me." You said still making your way out.

Professor Choi looked at you in pure shock as you walked away. Then she looked at Namjoon as he spoke to the Dean like nothing unusual happened. She remembered you and every detail, connecting the dots. How you two were constantly together but under a clock of invisibility as nothing was wrong. But it was wrong. Everything about his was wrong.

[dumbledearme]

chapter thirty-seven—a kind act

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act IV — To Stop The Tide

Part XII — Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, but none of them will ever love you the way I do, it's me and you.

That night was the first time Andy saw camp burial shrouds used on bodies, and it was not something she wanted to see again. Among the dead, Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin, and Castor, a son of Dionysus. His twin brother, Pollux, tried to say a few words, but he choked.

They spent the night treating the wounded, which was almost everybody. The satyrs and dryads worked to repair the damage to the woods.

The next morning there was a meeting of the Council of Cloven Elders. The three senior satyrs were there, along with Chiron, who would be confined to his wheelchair until his leg was mended. Juniper, Anthony and Andy stood by Grover's side.

They described the weird sound Grover had made during the battle. "It was panic," Juniper said. "Grover summoned the power of the wild god."

"Panic?" Andy asked.

Chiron explained, "During the first war of the gods and the Titans, Lord Pan let forth a horrible cry that scared away the enemy armies. It was his greatest power – a massive wave of fear that helped the gods win the day. The word panic is named after Pan, you see. And Grover used that power, calling it forth from within himself."

"Preposterous!" Silenus bellowed. "Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover's music was so awful it scared the enemy away."

"Pan let his spirit pass into all of us," Grover said very calmly. "We must act. Each of us must work to renew the wild, to protect what's left of it. We must spread the word. Pan is dead. There is no one but us."

"After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us believe?" Silenus cried. "Never! We must continue the search. Exile the traitor. A vote. Who would believe this ridiculous young satyr?"

"I would," said a familiar voice. Everyone turned. Dionysus walked into the clearing and the grief was plain in his face. "I bare bad news. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to hear Grover's story."

"But my lord!" Silenus protested. "It's just nonsense!"

Dionysus's eyes flared with purple fire. "My son is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to humor me."

Silenus swallowed and Grover repeated his tale.

"That sounds like just the sort of thing Pan would do," Dionysus decided at last. "Grover is right. The search is tiresome. You must start thinking for yourselves."

"We must exile the traitor!" Silenus insisted.

"I say no," Dionysus countered.

"This is an outrage!" Silenus stood. "The council will not stand for this."

"Then it shall be dissolved," Dionysus said. "I couldn't care less."

The satyrs murmured uncomfortably.

"It's okay," Grover told them. "We don't need a council to tell us what to do. We can figure it out ourselves."

He told them again the words of Pan and, finally, the satyrs started to listen.

That afternoon, Andy found Tyson at the beach talking to Briares. Tyson was giving Briares directions to the forges. "You will teach us ways we have forgotten, how to make better weapons and armor."

"I want to see Cyclopes," Briares said. "I don't want to be lonely anymore."

"You will never be lonely again," Andy assured him.

He smiled and shook her hand about a hundred times. He and hugged Tyson, then he waded out into the ocean.

"You helped him a lot," Andy told Tyson.

"I only talked to him."

"No. You believed in him. That's what kept Pan alive all these years. That's what gave Briares strength. Without him, we would've died."

"Hey," a voice said from behind her. Andy turned to find Nico. Tyson walked away sensibly. "Came to say goodbye," the boy told her.

"What? But... you can't just leave! It's too dangerous out there. You need to train."

"I train with the dead," he said flatly. "This camp isn't for me. There's a reason they didn't put a cabin to Hades here. He's not welcome, any more than he is on Olympus. I don't belong. I have to go."

Andy wanted to argue, but she knew it would do no good. "Are you leaving right now?"

Nico nodded. "I've got tons of questions. I need to find out who my mother was. Who paid for Bianca and me to go to school. Who was the lawyer guy who got us out of the Lotus Hotel. I know nothing about my past."

"Well, I hope you find out. And I hope," she took his hand, his skin as cold as ice, "we don't have to be enemies."

The boy smiled faintly. "I'm sorry I was a brat. You were right about everything."

"Keep in touch, Nico."

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and trudge off into the woods.

Then another voice right behind her said, "There goes a very troubled young man." Dionysus was standing there. "Walk with me, Jackson." Without a choice, Andy followed him back to camp. "We have had many betrayals," he said. "Things are not looking good for Olympus. Yet you and Chase saved the camp. I'm not sure I should thank you for that."

"It was a group effort."

The god shrugged. "Regardless, I suppose it was mildly competent, what you two did. I thought you should know – it wasn't a total loss." They reached the amphitheater, and Dionysus pointed toward the campfire. Clarisse was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Chris Rodriguez. He was telling her a joke.

"You cured him," Andy whispered.

"Madness is my specialty. It was quite simple."

"Wow. You did something nice."

Dionysus raised an eyebrow. "I am nice! I just don't like you in particular, Jackson."

"Uh-"

"Perhaps I felt grieved by my son's death. He was a good boy. Perhaps I thought Rodriguez over there deserved a second chance. At any rate, it seems to have improved La Rue's mood."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The wine god sighed. "Hades if I know. Just remember, a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never a great fighter or athlete or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now, I say. Maybe it'll be the same with you."

"People don't laugh at me!"

"Well, you certainly aren't very smart or strong or a great poet, Jackson. But you've got guts. So maybe you'll still have a chance. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed." And he left her there, watching as Clarisse and Chris sang a stupid campfire song together, holding hands in the darkness.

Andy smiled. There was someone else she needed to talk to.

She found him inside the Athena cabin, leaning over a table, studying Daedalus's laptop. "I hear you're going back to San Francisco," she said. When he raised his head, her heart raced.

"There's a private school out there that I'll be going to," he said. "I'll probably hate it, but..." he shrugged.

"Will you call me?"

It was a simple question, but the effect it had on him was great indeed. It was as if a huge burden had left him, and he was finally able to smile again. He was finally back to his normal self.

"Sure," he said. "Andy... I'm sorry I was such a jerk."

Andy frowned. "What was the rest of the prophecy?" she asked. He fixed his eyes on the table and didn't answer. Andy stepped forward. "You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze," she remembered. "The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise."

Anthony shook his head, like he wanted her to stop.

"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," she pressed on. "And the son of Athena's final stand-"

"Andy-"

She was so close now he couldn't avoid looking at her. "Destroy with a hero's final breath..."

"And lose a love to worse than death," he finished in a painful whisper. "I didn't know who the prophecy was talking about. I... I didn't know if-" his voice faltered. "Andy, I thought it meant you. And I was a jerk because I was trying to push you away. I was trying to prepare myself. And when you disappeared in Ogygia, I thought... Then you weren't dead, and I had to prepare myself all over again."

Andy pressed her forehead on his. "I'm sorry," she said. "About everything. About Luke."

"Somehow I'm glad it was him," he said softly. "After you were back... Did you mean what you said?"

Andy smiled. "Yes."

"Good," and he kissed her.

Everything was perfect until Hera decided to appear. She cleared her throat and they turned to look at her. "You found the answers," she told Anthony. "I knew you would. Your quest was a success."

"A success?" Anthony repeated. "A lot of people died. How is that-"

"Our family is safe," Hera insisted. "Those others are better gone, my dear. I am proud of you."

"You paid Geryon to let us pass through the ranch," Andy guessed. "But you didn't care about Nico."

"Oh, please," Hera waved her hand dismissively. "The son of Hades said it himself. No one wants him around. He does not belong."

"Hephaestus was right," Andy said. "You only care about your perfect family, not real people. Whoever doesn't fit, needs to be put out."

Hera's eyes turned dangerously bright. "Watch yourself, child of land and sea. I guided you more than you know in the maze. I helped Anthony kill Geryon. I was at your side when you faced Antaeus. I sent you to Calypso's island. I opened the way to the Titan's mountain. Anthony sees how I've helped. So now, I would welcome a sacrifice for my efforts."

Anthony stood still as a statue. "You're the one who doesn't belong, Hera. So next time, thanks... but, no thanks."

Hera's form began to glow. "You will regret this insult, son of Athena," and she disappeared.

When her birthday arrived Sally threw Andy a small party at their apartment. Paul Blofis came over (Chiron had manipulated the Mist to convince everyone, including Paul, that Andy had nothing to do with the band room explosion), and so did Anthony and Tyson.

Andy was getting ready to blow out the candles when the doorbell rang. Sally frowned. "Did you invite anyone else?" Andy shook her head. Sally opened the door and gasped.

Poseidon stood there. Sally blushed right to the roots of her hair. "Sally," he said. "As beautiful as ever. May I come in?" She mumbled something and he walked inside.

Paul stepped forward. "Hi. I'm Paul Blofis."

Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. "Blowfish, you say?"

"Ah, no. Blofis, actually."

"Oh, I see," Poseidon said. "A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon."

"Like the god of the sea?"

"Very much like that, yes."

"We're so glad you could drop by," Sally said, nervously. "Paul, this is Andy's father."

"Ah," Paul nodded. "Of course."

Poseidon smiled at Andy. "There you are, my girl. And Anthony. And Tyson! Hello, son!"

"Daddy!" Tyson bounded across the room and hugged the sea god.

Paul's jaw dropped. "Tyson is—"

"Not mine," Sally promised. "It's a long story."

"I couldn't very well miss Andy's seventeenth birthday," Poseidon said. "I've missed all the others." He looked around the room. "Sally, Paul, Anthony, Tyson... would you mind if I borrowed Andy just for a moment?" He put his arm around her and steered her into the kitchen.

Once they were alone, his smile faded. "Are you all right, child?"

"Yeah. I guess," she considered. "Is Luke really gone?"

"I don't know, Andy. It is most disturbing." Poseidon looked troubled. "There is something different about Luke. I don't know how he was prepared to host the Titan's soul, but he will not be easily killed. And yet, I fear he must be killed if we are to send Kronos back to the pit. I will have to think on this. Unfortunately, I have other problems of my own."

"The old sea gods?"

"Indeed. The battle came first to me, Andy. In fact, I cannot stay long. Even now the ocean is at war with itself. It is all I can do to keep hurricanes and typhoons from destroying your surface world, the fighting is so intense."

"Let me help."

Poseidon smiled. "Not yet, child. I sense you will be needed here. Which reminds me..." He brought out a sand dollar and pressed it into her hand. "Your birthday present. Spend it wisely."

"A sand dollar?"

"Oh, yes. In my day, you could buy quite a lot with a sand dollar. I think you will find it still buys a lot, if used in the right situation."

"What situation?"

"When the time comes," Poseidon said, "I think you'll know."

Andy closed her hand around the sand dollar. "Dad," she said. "I saw what Antaeus did in your name."

Poseidon nodded. "Lesser beings do many horrible things in the name of the gods. That does not mean we approve it. The way our sons and daughters act in our names... well, it usually says more about them than it does about us. Antaeus was mistaken. I think you might be, perhaps, my favorite child."

Andy smiled. "You shouldn't say that."

Then her mother called from the living room, "Andy, the candles are melting!"

"You'd better go," Poseidon said. "One last thing. That incident at Mount St Helens... The eruptions are continuing. Typhon is stirring. It is very likely that soon, in a few months, perhaps a year at best, he will escape his bonds."

"I'm so sorry. I never meant-"

Poseidon raised his hand. "It is not your fault, Andy. It would've happened sooner or later, with Kronos awakening the ancient monsters. But be aware, if Typhon stirs... it will be unlike anything you have faced before. The first time he appeared, all the forces of Olympus were barely enough to battle him. My fatherly advice is... keep the sea free."

They ate blue cake and ice cream until late in the night. After the party guests left and Sally went to bed, Andy grabbed another piece of cake and sat out onto the fire escape.

Nico appeared out of thin air. Andy almost fell backwards. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've done some exploring," he said. "Thought you'd like to know. Daedalus got his punishment."

"You saw him?"

He nodded. "Minos wanted to boil him in cheese fondue for eternity, but my father had other ideas. Daedalus will be building overpasses and exit ramps in Asphodel for all time. It'll help ease the traffic congestion. Truthfully, I think the old guy is pretty happy with that. He's still building. Still creating. And he gets to see his son and Perdix on the weekends."

"Good."

Nico tapped a silver ring shaped like a skull. Andy was sure he never wore it before. "I've found some things. I want to make you an offer, Andy Jackson." He said that in this weird, formal way, like he was about to propose to her or something.

"What?"

"The way to beat Luke," he said. "If I'm right, it's the only way you'll stand a chance."

Andy took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

"Is that blue birthday cake?" Nico asked suddenly. He sounded so hungry, so wistful.

"Sit down, Death Boy," she said handing him the plate. "We've got lots to talk about."

End of Act IV

[alwaysmychoices]

“Take It All”

Pairing: Liam x MC (Collins Alexander)

Synopsis: Now that Liam has called off the engagement and Collins has made peace with Drake after the assignation attempt, Collins runs into Liam and makes a final plea to save what they have.

Words: 2859

Part 3 of the Aftermath series ( I, II, III, IV, V, VI)

Sunlight slipped through the cracks in the blinds, bathing the grim hospital room in warm shades of sunrise. It was the light at the end of a very long tunnel and marked the end of my night from hell. It was simultaneously a comfort and a horror. It was one thing to be embroiled in the emotions of an assassination attempt, but it was another to keep living afterward. As I watched the sunrise, I saw the uncertainty in the aftermath. We all survived the attack, but were we the same people? How could we be?

I averted my gaze from the window, straightening my lazy position in the armchair, and as my eyes washed over the hospital bed, a hint of a smile formed on my lips. Enveloped in the violet and red rays of the sunrise, Drake and Olivia were a sight that brought warmth to a dreary day. Somehow, in the hours of poker (where they both kicked my ass ruthlessly) and ensuing laughter, Olivia abandoned her red ballgown in favor of scrubs she openly despised, but despite her complains, Olivia couldn’t leave him. Curled up in a chair, Olivia slept beside Drake’s hospital bed, their hands wandering to one another in their sleep, and I was struck by the happy innocence.

Until last night, I thought Liam and I had that, too. Even against trials and tribulations, we were happy. So happy that it verged on naivety. We’d never felt anything like what we had, and we thought it could carry us through anything. We were on the cusp of a lifelong commitment and a happily ever, but now, I just wore an engagement ring full of heartbreak and broken promises.

The sun reflected off of the diamond, casting light on my face to remind me. As if I could ever forget.

I stood quietly, carefully untangling myself from the thin blanket I’d been given in an unsuccessful attempt to get me to sleep. The trauma was exhausting and had lulled everyone else into a deep, deserving sleep, but I was plagued with emptiness. I hurt too much to feel, too much to sleep…

“Where are you going?” a voice surprised me, and I jumped as I turned back to see Olivia’s head gently raise, sleep in her eyes as she watched me from across the room.

“Getting coffee,” I murmured, noting with a sting of jealousy that her hand didn’t leave Drake’s.

“You’re leaving me alone?” there was a flash of panic in Olivia’s expression, and I smiled softly.

“I think you’ve got it, Olivia,” I cast my eyes meaningfully to their entangled hands, and she looked back to me, so many questions in her bright green eyes. I smiled again, silently urging her to stop worrying and enjoy what she had. If I could have gone back, I would have done the same thing with Liam.

Now at the end, I realized how much time I wasted with Liam because of uncertainty and pride. I spent so much energy agonizing about whether or not he would have me or if I was genuinely crazy to abandon everything in New York. If I’d known our days of innocence were numbered, I would have done so many things differently. I would have neglected courtly decency just to touch him and see that brilliant smile.

“Want a cup?” I asked gently, and Olivia scoffed.

“Hospital coffee? No thank you,” she rejected my offer, and I found myself laughing as I left them alone in the hospital room.

I followed the smell of coffee, wandering the hospital corridors in search of caffeine. The silence was my only comfort, and I was relieved by its uncompromising consistency. It didn’t judge my tear stained cheeks or un-ladylike attire. It didn’t ask me to be okay when I wasn’t, and it didn’t expect an explanation.

I turned another corner and found that my silence was interrupted.

Chatter lurked just out of earshot, giving me enough to hear but not understand. I felt a small panic settle in, the unknown now marred by trauma. My trust was replaced with fear, and I dug my hands into my jean pockets, peaking around every corner with a pounding heart.

“It’s all clear, your majesty,” the voice was louder now and more familiar, but this brought me no solace.

“Thank you, Bastien.”

Everything stopped. I was frozen in place, the words ringing in my ears in a competition with my beating heart. It like time entered slow motion, seconds moving at a crawl as the inevitable approached. I knew that voice… I knew that man. I loved him, and he left me.

A voice in the back of my head begged me to run, and something was tempting about that idea. I could avoid him for now. Maybe forever. He told me to run away from Cordonia, and perhaps I should.

Yet something larger kept me planted where I was. It kept me in Cordonia, and it kept me in this hospital. I tried to identify it and failed to capture it. Its instincts commanded me to stay, and I listened.

And that was how I found myself face-to-face with King Liam of Cordonia, the love of my life and the greatest heartbreak I’d ever felt.

His strong, stoic features filled with shock, and I was knocked back by how I hardly recognized him. His suit was wrinkled and half-hazardly worn, and in his bloodshot eyes, I saw a man terrorized by an internal struggle few would ever have to face. He was breaking before my very eyes, and I wanted to reach out and hold him. I wanted my love to fix the unfixable.

“Lady Collins,” Liam’s words were breathless.

“Liam,” I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes away from his as I nodded towards Bastien, “Hello, Bastien.”

He nodded hello, and  I noted that Bastien was uncomfortable. Liam told him.

I don’t know why the revelation hurt. I’d told Drake, after all, and surely, Bastien deserved to know as his head of security. Still, there was something so final about it that it stung in all the right places, bringing me back to the edge I thought I’d left behind the night before.

“Where is your security detail?” Liam’s words were loaded with too many emotions to unravel, simultaneously accusatory and apologetic.

“Bastien’s here. I think I’m fine,” I quipped, startled by the venom in my own voice.

Bastien looked between the two of us before nodding thoughtfully to Liam, “The corridor is secure, your majesty. I’ll give you two a moment.”

Neither Liam or I said anything as Bastien respectfully stepped away, positioning himself just out of sight for privacy, and even after he left, we remained silent. There was so much to say that words didn’t come.

I just wanted him to walk up to me and take it back. To take back every tear and every bit of rejection. I wanted my engagement ring to be a promise and not just a piece of jewelry. I wanted my Liam back.

“I came to see Drake… I didn’t realize you stayed,” his voice was full of resigned sadness. He’d told me to run to Drake and live happily ever after with him, but now that he thought I did it, he was sad. Some part of me thought he deserved this, but the other was devastated he thought I could give up on us and run to another so easily.

“Savannah was a mess. I thought it would be right to stay with my friend,” I placed emphasis on the word to get the message finally through his thick head, “He’s asleep with Olivia right now.”

There was surprise in his eyes, and a flush of anger rushed through me.

“I guess she messed up your little backup plan for me,” I murmured as I cast my eyes down, “I talked to him last night, you know?” tears prickled at my eyes, “Drake let me go when you proposed to me. He was never mine, and I was never his.”

I was alarmed by my remaining need for Liam. I wanted to drop to my knees and beg. I wanted him back more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. I wanted to hold him, and I wanted him to hold me. I was overcome by a swell of bittersweet hope that brought me to tears.

“So now that I don’t have a backup plan, maybe we could…” I looked up at him, shedding every ounce of pride to suggest, “pretend this didn’t happen.”

“Collins…” Liam’s voice told me everything I needed to know, and the crushing weight of rejection knocked the air out of my lungs.

I forced air back into my chest, the gasp wavy and desperate, and I swallowed back my sob as I begged, “Liam, I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too-“

“Collins, don’t you see that you shouldn’t have to be scared?” Liam interrupted me, silently pleading with me to understand. He wanted me to know that he wasn’t doing this to hurt me, but how could that be true? How could I survive this, let alone understand? How could something that devastated me so much be for my own good?  

“But I am!” I retorted, “I am terrified, and so are you! And being apart at a time like this is bullshit, and you know it. Let me help you. Let me be there. You can’t tell me that you don’t love me because I know you do, and you know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything before. So, what are we doing?”

I stepped forward to Liam and felt the stabbing pain of watching him move away in response.

“I’m protecting you, Collins, because I love you. You deserve more than a life with me. You deserve to be back in New York, a place you love and where you can be safe. You deserve to find someone who doesn’t put your life in danger,” Liam was a model king, selfless and selfish at the same time. His grand gesture was to set his love free and give her a better life, but it just shielded him from his own pain and hurt her more than he could imagine.

“I don’t give a fuck about what I deserve because I need you,” I stepped closer, not caring if he moved away again, “I can’t run away to New York and pretend I didn’t meet you. There’s no view of Central Park that can replace having you, Liam. Six months ago, I was a girl who could have survived this, but I’ve changed. And now I can’t lose you.”

“This is for your own good,” Liam’s words had lost their resolve and exposed the fear I knew was lurking beneath.

“Don’t you dare say that,” I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks, “Something that’s for my own good doesn’t hurt like this.”

Liam’s eyes were full of concern and affection and pain, and I just wanted to stop. He had the power to make it end. He just had to come back to me. He had to let me in, and we would be freed from this nightmare. We could survive the aftermath together.

“Collins… I’m sorry,” his apology was so weak that my body shook with desperation and hurt.

“You just have to come to me, Liam,” my voice wavered through the tears, “I’ll fix you, and you’ll fix me. Maybe we’re not safe, but we’re happy. I love you, Liam. Let me in, please,” my face twisted into that of desperation, and I was almost ashamed to let him see me like this, “We’re both miserable, and being together is the only thing that can fix it.”

Liam’s hands wrapped around mine, and hope flooded my body, reviving the parts of my soul previously numbed by his absence. I was alive again, and a laugh escaped my lips as Liam wiped away my tears. He was so close to me that I could smell the familiar warmth of his cologne, and I wanted to melt into his love.

“I can’t, Collins.”

And just like that, I was broken once more. Shattered shards of my souls fell to the ground, bouncing off the sterile epoxy as even the floor rejected it. I pulled away from him, disgusted by the hope I found in his touch. I closed my eyes to escape the horrifying sight of the man I loved giving me up. I wanted to say that he was saying goodbye to me, but he already had. I just didn’t listen because I loved him too much.

I was repulsed with my desperation and hope. I’d bore my vulnerability and faced a deeper rejection than I could have imagined. I cursed the part of me that kept me standing, that forced me to fight only to lose in the end. If I’d run away, I could have found solace in cowardice. I hated that I felt it. That my heart had grown larger just to be destroyed. I was pathetic and still so in love with him.

I raked my fingers through my hair as I struggled to catch my breath, and as my engagement ring hooked on a lock of hair, the weight of it was unbearable. I examined my ring finger with desolation, and I wiggled it off my finger, watching the light catch its beauty. It was such a beautiful ring. Such a beautiful life we almost had together…

“If you mean that, then take it,” I held out the ring for Liam, staring into his ocean blue eyes and getting lost in them. This ring was so much more than a ring, so much more than even an engagement. It was the culmination of us. It was the passion we shared and the love we built. It was the triumph over every trial. It was the fight we’d won. It was us, and part of me was sure that he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t bear to let go just as I couldn’t give up, “Take it all, Liam.”

Liam was pained, and I felt guilty for doing this to him. He was one I wanted to protect and adore, yet I was putting him in a situation I knew would kill him in hopes it would bring it back to me. Who was I? What had heartbreak turned me into?

“I love you, Collins Alexander,” Liam wrapped his hand around mine, squeezing it tightly before taking the ring from between my fingers. He placed it carefully in the pocket by his heart, his red eyes filling with tears, and I lost my breath.

He took it…

It’s really over.

“Goodbye, Collins.”

Liam’s eyes washed over me one final time as if memorizing every detail, but I didn’t need to memorize him. This moment was engrained in my soul, an unremovable blemish. It demanded a presence. It would haunt me every second that we were apart, and as the pain enveloped me, I found myself wishing I’d never met him.

The waitress in New York was happy. She was independent and free, and I missed her.

“All I’ve ever tried to do is love you, Liam,” I confessed, swallowing heavy, “I came across the world and did everything I could to have you, you know. I spent last night wishing I could be with you because I didn’t want you to be in pain… I wanted to make it better,” my fingertips ran over my lips, trying to remember his kiss, “I just didn’t think this is how it would end.”

“Neither did I,” Liam whispered, watching me with a grieving stare.

“A kiss goodbye?” I bit my lower lip, fighting off the tears. If he was going to remember me like this, I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to hold on while I could.

Liam leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, and I closed my eyes as I breathed him in. A stray tear betrayed me and fell from my eyes, and I laughed bitterly. I couldn’t even keep it together when it mattered. Liam pulled away, placing his hand on my cheek with a meaningful glance, and then it was over.

Ever strong, Liam put one foot in front of the other and forced himself to make the first step. And then another. And before I knew it, he was gone.

He was truly gone.

With my back against the wall, I slid to the floor, burying my face in my hands and convulsing into a sob that consumed me. Every breath was a pained struggle. Every tear a dagger down my cheek. Every thought unwanted. There was no future ahead of me- just bleak darkness.

I felt again. Oh, did I feel again. I felt everything so acutely that I didn’t know how to cope. Everything radiated with rejection and desolation. The dull ache was replaced with horrific burning.

A girl came to Cordonia and fell in love.

And it destroyed her.

Author’s note: this didn’t really go where I expected. I thought there would be more of a fight or that it would be somewhere else, but above all, the emotion was what mattered. I was crying when I wrote it, so I hope I captured Collins’ pain.

@liam-chris-knights, I hope you liked it! 

[my-super-duper-secret-account]

Varona Roo: The Crow Part 1

So this is based around an OC ive been developing for a loooong time, (not specifically for bnha or something like that) and this was born from a need to get something down in writing. The Crow chapters will mostly be an introduction to her character and her dynamics within the universe. I hope you like it, and if you dont, sorry man.

Ringing in her head

Then dark

More ringing

Now some faint light

The ringing is fading

Then Mina

Blurry Mina

Then sound

“Roo! Can you hear me?? Are you okay?? Say something!”

Then bright, clear……loud…. Mina.

Roo was sat straight up in her bed, sweat dripping down her temples and back. Her chest was heavy and her lungs ached. Had she been hyperventilating? By the time she got around to responding, Uraraka had arrived from 2 rooms over.

“Is everything okay? I heard screaming.” Uraraka looked at Mina, and then in Roo’s direction with a worried expression.

“I think she had another nightmare. I woke up to the sound of screaming coming from next door so I ran in to see if she was ok, and she was just sitting up in bed with her eyes closed, just screaming and crying…. I think she has finally relaxed a little now…” Mina turned to the girl in her arms. “Can you hear me now Roo?”

There was a pause, one just long enough to make it worrying, then Roo finally spoke.

“I’m okay. I’m fine now.” She said, as she nonchalantly wiped her tears and snot on her sheets. “Just a stupid nightmare. I’m really sorry I woke you guys up again, all over a dumb dream.” The two other girls visibly relaxed upon hearing her speak. However, there was obviously still worry in their hearts.

“You know these nightmares aren’t turning out to be as ‘rare’ as you made them out to be when you told us about them.” Mina said, “Not as ‘minor’ either”. Her expression had changed subtly from ‘worried’ to ‘suspicious’.

Uraraka, the peacemaker and sweet girl that she was, chimed in too, hoping to soften the mood. “You know Roo, I know we don’t know a lot about you or your life before you U.A, but we are your friends. If you ever want to talk about these kinds of things, we’re here for you.” She gave such a genuine smile, Roo’s heart nearly melted. “Totally! That’s what friends are for right?! You can always count on us!” Mina cheered.

In that moment, Roo thought to herself, that she really wished someone would have told her sooner, about the joys of friendship and camaraderie.

“I appreciate it girls, honestly, I really do, but I’m alright. It was just a dream. I just needed a minute to shake it off. I’m good as new I promise. The best help you can be to me now is to stop any of the other girls who might’ve come to check on me too. Just tell them I’m all better and off to sleep again.”

Mina and Uraraka still didn’t believe her completely quite yet, but were confident enough that leaving really was the best thing they could do for her right now. They said their goodnights and promised to stop any late-night snoopers from coming around, and soon the 4th floor was dead quiet once again.

Roo had a love-hate relationship with silence. 90% of the time, she couldn’t stand it. She needed something going on in the background at least. Some sort of white noise to keep her comfortable. But right now, she enjoyed her silence.

She pulled her dorm curtains aside and let the light of the full moon spill into her home. She sat comfortably in its cold embrace. Roo wasn’t a fan of natural light. She avoided going outside whenever she could (due also in part to her laziness and disinterest of the world outside her room). Daylight was hot in the air and warm on her skin but as she feels it move through her it feels uncomfortable, out of place. Artificial light was (in Roo’s opinion) the greatest achievement of mankind. Artificial lighting had no negative or positive effects on her so it’s an obvious choice over the unsettling daylight. Perhaps it was due to her childhood, the way she grew up. However, she had a feeling it would’ve turned out like this anyways. But moonlight. She had a special place in her heart for moonlight. It was cold and pure and she felt cleansed under its light. It was beautiful and regal, awe-inspiring and impossibly powerful. The light never hurt her eyes, and she could walk among the shadows peacefully, the night was her favorite time of day. She often thought that if it were nighttime for almost all of the day, she might be more of an outdoors person than she currently is.

She sat, in that, oh-so-rarely peaceful silence, and listened to her heartbeat, listened as it slowed over time, bringing her back to a normal resting rhythm. Then she continued to listen. To count the beats, to listen for anything off beat… there was none… she became a little uneasy, she was finding less and less things to distract herself with. All she wanted was the peaceful silence, under the moon, and not to think about the dream she had just awoken from.

Her wish was granted to her in the form of a knock on her door. She threw on some boxer shorts (she thinks they make good pajama bottoms) and a ridiculously oversized t-shirt on (she only likes oversized t-shirts, she says they are far more comfortable that way) and slowly made her way to the door to see who had come.

Be careful what you wish for

“Katsuki”

“I told you to stop using my first name. We aren’t friends.”

“And we never will be with that attitude”

Bakugou snarled at the lazy sarcasm rolling off her tongue.

Roo lounged lazily against the door frame.

“So Katsuki, if we aren’t friends, why the fuck are you at my door at…” Roo looked to her phone to check the time, “3:09 in the fuckin morning?”. Bakugou rolled his eyes and sneered down at the girl, who sneered right back.

“I heard some pathetic fuck screaming like a baby earlier. I thought id come see who it was.”

The energy between them suddenly went from sarcastic and cheeky, to calm and subdued. Roo looked up at Bakugou, his eyes were softer and less… well, Bakugou. It was clear they had entered the neutral zone. Roo took a deep breath and sighed, then moved aside so Bakugou could come in. They locked eyes for a split second, before Bakugou silently entered the room.

The door clicked shut behind them and Bakugou took a seat in her desk chair while Roo went and sat on the edge of her bed. Silent moments passed as they each sat in quiet contemplation. Bakugou finally broke the somehow comfortable silence between them.

“Another nightmare.”

Roo sat quietly, gazing out the window at the moon. Obviously, she wasn’t trying to answer him.

“Don’t even try. I know it was. Hell, everybody in the dorm knew it! You’re not exactly fooling us by screaming at the top of your lungs every other week.”

Bakugou waited. He found himself waiting longer than he should be. Roo hadn’t said a word, and was simply looking out the window, quietly picking at her fingers. She was acting differently this time. Usually by now she would’ve said some witty line or begun her rant about how “so fucking tired of this bullshit” she was. But she was still sitting silently. All that could be heard in the room was their hushed breathing, and the clicking of her long fingernails.

Bakugou decided that he had been plenty generous in his allocation of time and took a deep breath, then sighed as he stood up and walked to the window. He looked around, trying to find what could possibly be so interesting out there. He continued to look as he began to speak.

“It’s the same one every time, right? Your dream?”

This time he was able to get a quiet “yeah” out of her.

“Are you finally gonna tell me about it?”

Bakugou had now spotted the moon.

[skyteglad]

do all the flower asks too you little heathen

Alisons: Sexuality? pansexual!! i used to go with demirom pansexual but pan alone is good enough

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender? he/him, it/its is okay too! bigender but also i’m?? leaning towards just trans masc at this point?

Amaryllis: Birthday? dec 11!

Anemone: Favorite flower? oh fuck uhhhh chrysanthemum but only bc i love that word?? i like how flowers look a lot tho

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show? oh shit fuck uh. there’s a lot but soul eater, desperate housewives, and heroes are three i can think of rn

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger? i have no clue what this question means!!

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes? h

Aubrieta: Favorite drink? soda… root beer, sunkist, and (currently) dr. pepper?

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love? YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Baneberries: Favorite song? THERE’S… A LOT OF THEM, OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD THOUGH, FIRST TO COME TO THOUGHT? between the bars by chris garneau

Basket of Gold: Describe your family. they’re actually pretty good? like, really good. not perfect, though. i still haven’t come out to them, but they’re very good in comparison to many other parents

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it? imma go w my irl besties bryson and alyssa they’re fantastic, love them

Begonia: Favorite color? this is hard? i love colors??? fuck? i’ll just go with color combo instead here, which is a tie between red/black/white, and brown/teal/white

Bellflower: Favorite animal? I HAVE A LOT. CATS, DEER, AXOLOTLS??

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person? night

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be? cat cat cat cat cat

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? teacher, lawyer, forensic psychologist

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children? love them! they deserve kindness in the world and it makes me sad as hell knowing not all of them have that. no child is inherently evil, they’re still forming and changing and growing, and there’s still a chance to help them be a good person

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why? oh man, lots of things. i’ll go with… *spins the wheel* … abandonment! and yeah lol it’s bc losing people is scary and terrible

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood. not a fact abt my childhood but apparently i was born with an anxiety disorder lol

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  question too deep, pass

Buttercup: Relationship Status? **MARRIED** i’m not married but i’m happily taken by two of the best people to ever exist ever???

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go? SEE MY BOY NORSKI

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved? when i’m around my bfs and they’re being cozy and gay and sweet

Canna: Do you have any tattoos? nope!

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  nope!

California Poppy: Height?  fuck you! i’m 4'11

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts? sure do babey!

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  pajama pants, socks that are too tight, a tank top, and my bfs heart player hoodie

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight? yes i still do lol

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  cotton :D

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed? cotton!

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font? fuck uhhhhhh yes

Columbine: Are you tired? lol ya

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to? LOVE BOYS LOVE BOYS LOVE BOYS

Coneflower: Dream job? forensic psychologist :c

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert? introvert!

Crocus: Have you ever been in love? this was already asked but YES

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about? ALL THE WAY ALL THE WAY

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it? UHHH YYYESSS???? imma go w booger bear, a green bear… shade of boogers

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign? sagittarius!

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering? i… guess? maybe??? not really imo but idk!

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment? i have no braincells rn so pass

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  cry (they do like them tho thank fuck)

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to? COTTON AND NORSKI

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at? d…raw…?

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at? everything lol

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month? CON! HALLOWEEN SPOOKY STUFF! POTENTIAL MOUSE BABIES which is also a bad thing that happened but shh

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today? it’s been ok

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life? well… not exactly? i’m thrilled to be where i am w my bfs, i’m thrilled that i’ve grown and gotten through some bad trauma, but i want to be doing more, i want to feel accomplished, so.. i’m not :c

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two? FUCKING MOVE.

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life? oh fuck numbers. 1-2) cotton and norski 3) lee!!! 4) my family 3) my friends 4) there’s more but i have no braincells so :p

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  nothing

Hellebore: How do you show affection? many

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of? :D.. i don’t rememeber

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day. shrug

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  drrrawww??? procrastinate lol

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them? i’ll go w alyssa! almost 16 years, it was in kindergarten! my aunt had lied abt mama bringing me lunch so i was left kind of just… without any and alyssa stayed behind while i ate when everyone went to recess :’) we also just shared a class but still

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything? cotton and norski

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have? bitch? how am i supposed to know?

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? hhhhhh

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself? suck

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself? i give a shit about others

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  i give a shit about certain others :\

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child? draw

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid? alyssa

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for? SO MANY THINGS HHH JUST. BEING A THOUGHTLESS BITCH.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about? retaliating against my abusers and saying harmful things to them while they were basically cornering me bc i had a breakdown and that was ‘rude’ somehow.

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name? bc im trash! and it means 'thunderous skies’ (i found out that skylar is a popular/overused trans guy name and now i’m sad at myself but also fuck u i love the name skylar it stays as my middle)

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it. texas lol i havent moved out of the city ive lived in my whole life

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up? its never been personalized… it’s… just a bed, a tv (not anymore but thats ok) and thats it. currently its two beds but, again, thats it

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  depression!

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom. shes great!! she sucks sometimes and doesn’t understand my boundaries at all (maybe she does and just purposefully ignores them), and she babies me to fucking hell, but she’s very very nice and tries her best and i appreciate her

Onions: Tell about your dad. we don’t mention him he’s a piece of shit :\ my step dad’s great tho lol

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents. ging and popo are treasures to this earth

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable? i don’t want to talk about that.

Peony: What was your first job? haven’t had it yet

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any? COTTON: MET HIM IN A HOMESTUCK KIN SERVER. NORSKI: COTTON’S OLD FRIEND, INTRODUCED US. the first thing i ever said to him was great…

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain? i don’t.

Pink: Where is home? where the heart is uwu

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change? terrible people from hurting millions of others.

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them. norski tbh? he’s so talented and brave and has done so much in life. he’s not perfect but he’s grown so much and tried so hard to do good and i’m so proud of him and admire him a lot

Primrose: Describe your ideal life. no mental illness, with financial stability, and also the world wouldn’t have fucking oppression and harm in it tbh.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child? THAT BUTTERFLIES WERE VENOMOUS AND IF IT TOUCHED U U’D DIE.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life? norski and cotton… and also lee

Rose: What’s your favorite sound? my bfs’ voices

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory? most memories of good times we’ve had

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory? :) pass

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  TO CUDDLE MY FUCKING HUSBANDS. also to go pee i’m gonna go pee intermission break here pee break done

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things? :D hard!

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without? norski or cotton hh

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night? uhhhh a good amount???

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning? staying in bed hurts my body

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job? that i wish i had one

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing? i have a rly hot hoodie now…

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  EDGY BUT COLORFUL

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you? stuffed animals… esp pokemon ones (or video games)

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now? life :D!!!!

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called? I DON’T READ HHHHHHH

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year? living with cotton like… permanently (also spending time w norski irl!!!!!!!!! pls!)

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is? :)

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself. I DON’T HAVE A BRAIN RN

[injectionmoldchina]

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A Ticket to Ride the TranSiberian

Image by Viewminder Cut off from the sea by the suspicious port authorities in Shanghai it seemed that the only way I was going to get out of China was overland. This was my ticket.

In Shanghai I had inquired of every traveler I met about the path ahead of me. I had heard tales of this magnificent and exotic railway adventure before… they called it the greatest railway journey on earth. The longest stretch of steel rail ever layed.

An Australian traveller named Mark told me that he had heard that there was a guy in Beijing who could get me a ticket.

I asked Mark how I could find this guy in Beijing. He said just go there and ask for ‘The Crocodile.’ Just go to a city of some ten million souls and ask for ‘The Crocodile’? It sounded almost insane to me.

Ditching Mark after he made moves on my Chinese girlfriend and ditching my Chinese girlfriend after she got all worked up when a soldier who was following me took a picture of us together on the riverfront… I understood her fear in that time of Tienenmen Square and I knew it was time once again to get moving. It was time to move north to Beijing… the city they once called Peking.

Tsu Tsu Mei was a nice girl. She had told me to call her Eleanor… because that was what she called her ‘American name.’ I couldn’t do it because she just didn’t look like an Eleanor to me… I always called her Tsu Tsu Mei. And I think that she really liked that I did… it would have been easier to call her Eleanor I’m sure… but each time I called her ‘Tsu Tsu Mei’ she gave me this look… it started with a big warm vulnerable smile that made it seem to me that she was melting inside with warm thoughts and shaking knees.

That look always made me want to scoop her up in my arms and give her the same feelings right back. Whenever I said her name and got that look… it just kind of summed everything up right there in that moment. I really liked that. Sometimes I wished that it had gone farther but the way it ended is why I have the memories I do… and I hope she does too… we never hurt each other… never not once… it was the hard and cold government of an opressive authoritarian regime that broke both of our hearts there in Shanghai. It wasn’t either of us… it wasn’t our fault.

I was with Mark the Australian when I met Tsu Tsu Mei… we were tooling around Shanghai and we had just gotten on the bus after a tour of the Shanghai Waterpipe Factory Number Seven where I had just purchased a fine example of a brass opium waterpipe. We had seen the place while riding the bus and jumped off… the factory was really happy to have foreigners tour the place. I couldn’t believe that there were at least six other water bong factories in Shanghai. Somehow we had found the seventh.

As foreigners we were pretty much used to talking in english right in front of people knowing full well that they couldn’t follow our conversation… especially the slang riddled prose we frequently used. When Tsu Tsu Mei got on the bus and stood next to me I turned to Mark and said "man she is the most beautiful Chinese woman I have ever seen."

Before Mark could agree… Tsu Tsu Mei let me know that she appreciated the compliment… she smiled and said "thank you" in perfect english.

Shocked that my subterfuge was exposed at first I was a little embarassed… until Mark took that half of a second to start in on her. No way I thought… I was the one who paid the compliment… I was going to be putting the moves on Tsu Tsu Mei. I’m not sure Australian guys understand the concept of a good ‘wing man’ but Mark sure had some learnin’ to do. He needed to watch the movie ‘Top Gun’ and take some notes.

Tsu Tsu Mei and I arranged to meet later that night in downtown Shanghai and proceeded to become great friends. She even took me to meet her parents… Norman Tsu… the first deaf technical drafting instructor in all of China and his ‘deaf wife Janie.’

Tsu Tsu Mei’s father Norman was sent to the United States to study technical drafting in the fifties. He went to Gaudellet University and he confided in me that he really liked it… that he didn’t want to come back to China… he stopped writing home and corresponding with the government… he wanted to drift away… but they corralled his mother who was a widow by this time… and they made her write Norman a letter that made it really clear that it was in her best interests that Norman return to China. That’s how China got its first deaf technical drafting instructor. Or how they got him back.

Norman always referred to his wife as ‘My deaf wife.’ Both of them were deaf and we passed notes to each other over a marvellous dinner… while Tsu tsu Mei just kept smiling at me and at her parents… unbelievable food Normans deaf wife cooked. It was a feast… and not the Chinese food I was used to… this was exotic and unknown to me. The Tsu’s really went out and they’ve been in my thoughts many times since then.

The Tsu family was really good to me and things were moving right along with Tsu Tsu Mei too until that soldier decided that he’d turn our little hand holding session on the Shanghai riverfrint into a Kodak moment. I had seen that guy following me before… he was the tallest Chinaman I’d ever seen… a full head above the rest of the general population. I found great amusement in shagging him… going into a store and going out the back door. It was really like a game. Still… he always found me… he was on me for days there in Shanghai. And after he took that picture I realized that my company with Tsu Tsu Mei wasn’t looked upon favorably by the authorities. She was terrified of the repurcussions. I knew that was it… I wasn’t going to get her or her family inot any trouble. I was going to get out of Shanghai.

I purchased a train ticket on a sleeper train for the seventeen hour ride from Shanghai to Beijing. How was it that I could go to a city the size of Beijing almost a thousand miles to the north and find this man called ‘The Crocodile’ simply by asking? It seemed completely insane… but such was the world I found myself in this year… for me, 1990 was the year of living insanely.

After seventeen hours of watching China slide by through the window accompanied by the soundtrack of nonstop kung fu videos on the train’s television sets, I stepped off the carriage in Beijing, China’s capital city. Which was a godsend because I could not have taken one more of those videos. The Chinese truly love them… they must be a part of their national identity… the way that the Japanese love Godzilla. Godzilla was a mechanism that helped the Japanese to cope with their loss of World War Two and the painful shock of getting Nuked twice. Even though Godzilla always stomps their cities to pieces they always triumph. It’s like a morality tale with them.

When I was living in Osaka someone who worked in the studio that made the Godzilla movies decided to borrow the costume and wear it to a party where he caused it to be damaged to the tune of a hundred and seventy five thousand dollars. I wish I was at that party. Hanging out with the Nigerians. That would have been epic.

The first european looking guy I saw in Beijing… I stopped him as was my custom in the orient and inquired of the conditions and opportunities there in this new city. Blonde hair in China or Japan had always meant ‘help desk’ to me. We vagabonds and adventurers always stuck together and usually became instant friends as long as there wasn’t a woman involved.

Then I asked him if he had ever heard of ‘The Crocodile.’

He said that he would take me to see him right now. Right then. Right there. Unbelievable. I’m not kidding. No shit. I couldn’t believe it either.

I had found ‘The Crocodile.’

The man walked me to a hotel a few blocks away from the railroad station. It was an old building that looked straight out of the 1920’s, like just about every other building in Beijing. You could see that it was really beautiful at one time… maybe even opulent or exclusive… but it, like anything else that was once beautiful or opulent, it seemed to fall into despair and decay under the custodianship of the communists. That was the way pretty much all of Beijing looked. With brown air and trees and bushes that were different from all those I had even known. I always notice the trees and bushes in a new city. Here on the other side of the world the plant life and the vegetation was odd to me… just unusual enough to stick out in my mind.

The man knocked on the door and we were answered by a nice looking blonde woman on her early twenties. She looked kind of pissed off but invited us in still. My guide just turned around and left with little more than a gesture to the woman. I followed her into the room.

It had become a bit of a self entertainment for me to wonder why the man I was seeking should be called "The Crocodile." It intrigued me from the moment I had heard it and in my mind I came up with all sorts of reasons for the nickname. None of them pleasant.

The room was an illustration in contrasts… inside "The Crocodile" had rented two rooms… he knocked down the wall that had seperated them and completely remolded it. This guy was livin’ cush. He sat on the edge of his bed playing with the tv remote control as if it had befuddled him… I could tell from body language that his girlfriend and he had just been fighting.

"The Crocodile" stood up and turned around to face me… the guy must have been six and a half feet tall… and immediately I could see why they called him "The Crocodile."

He wore these braces on his teeth… the largest mass of metal I’ve ever seen in a persons mouth. Communist braces aren’t very pretty… but these… "The Crocodiles" mouth looked like it had been installed by a blacksmith… an angry, drunken blacksmith. Like hammered bars of hot metal hand forged around each of his teeth.

I had to make myself stop staring as he got right down to business. Croc asked me when I wanted to leave… he said he had one ticket and he wanted a hundred and ten bucks American for it. There’d be no negotiating I could tell that right away. I had a feeling that if I tried that he’d have just relieved me of all my dough right there. Probably my gear too.

We were in a bit of a funny situation for a couple of reasons… I thought the ticket looked fake… it looked worse than some of the permits and passes I’d forged in school. I didn’t have a visa to enter Russia… and I didn’t carry that kind of currency in US dollars. I wasn’t too sure that the Russians would actually be too excited about me coming to their country either. When I expressed this to "The Crocodile" he laughed a powerful and boisterous laugh and told me not to worry about it… he’d just gimme the ticket on good faith… so I could try and get a visa and cash a travellers check or something to come up with the Dollars he wanted. Besides he said "I know where your seat is and when you’ll be leaving and if you fuck me I’ll kill you" after which he laughed another deep laugh and gave me a half hug. "I want my money by next week he said." and walked me to the door where he said goodbye and his girlfriend gave me another dirty look.

That was it. Absolutely fucking unbelievable. I’m in Beijing less than two hours and I found my guy and I got my ticket. Now I just needed a visa from the Soviet Consulate. He’d also tell me there if the ticket was real I figured.

But right now I needed a place to stay. That would have to be my first order of business. The Croc’s hotel seemed a little too luxurious for my budget… I needed something ‘dumpier.’ Something where my kind’d fit in you know?

I walked out of the hotel and on to the street… pausing for a moment to take a breath of the sulfery yellow tinged air and feel the pulse of the street there…a moment to let the vibe of it all sink in. I could have gone left or I could have gone right but it really didn’t matter because I had no idea where I was going anyway. It’s like a rule with me… like walking on the upwind side of the street because that’s where all the paper money blows. Go left.

My friend Joel… the guy who’d saved my ass from the knife weilding Yakuza that pressed certain death into my throat in that bar in Osaka… he told me that he went insane and that he would hear these voices in his head that always said the same thing… "look to the left Joel." If he wasn’t crazy already he said that those voices would do it… he never understood the meaning of it. Stupid voices in your head… they never tell you anything good… like "stay away from that one… she’s trouble." They’re always all cryptic. You gotta try to figure them out and break the code. Joel said the lithium they gave him pretty much shut the voices down. I never had heard voices though. It would probably be fun for a day or two… just to see what they would say. I think if I had voices they would sound like Vincent Price on LSD.

So I went left after I walked out of the Crocodile’s hotel. I usually always go left when I got no idea but this time I was especially glad I did.

I get about a block and right there smack dab… badda bing… I run into this guy I lived with in Osaka Japan… Mike Levine… a Jewish guy from Jersey. He had let me borrow a pair of his shoes because I could find any in my size in Japan. Mike’s got this big smile on his face as he sees me… we hug and slap each others backs and talk about the fight that got me thrown out of the university in Japan that we both went to.

Mike gave me directions to a suitably dumpy hotel and we parted ways.

Walking down the street I saw a couple of American girls… who turned out to be two really granola looking lesbian backpackers from Nebraska.

I stopped them there and asked them where they were staying… they said they had no idea… I invited them to share a hotel room with me if we could find one… plus the thought of girl on girl action sounded like really good fun to me. I felt like I was really going to like Beijing. It seemed like an easy city. Things were looking good.

Was this my lucky day or what?

Shit, I been here for like two hours… I already met the guy I came to meet, had a ticket for the Trans Siberian, hooked up with two lesbians and there we found a three dollar a night hotel. Six yuan a night for each of us. What more greatness could god bestow on me? Another lesbian? A blind supermodel? That would just be asking too much I thought. Lady Luck, I’ve always said, she was indeed a friend of mine.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth they say… so I unpacked my gear in the hotel room… every bit of it… and spread it all around. I always unpack fully so if I get robbed they can’t just take one bag and split… they gotta work for it… then I unscrew all the lightbulbs in the room so they gotta have a flashlight to do it well… and then I make some loud noise making booby trap… like a pyramid of empty beer cans behind the door… then they gotta have nerves of steel to finish the job. Never got robbed once. Never. I have come home more than a few times affected by some intoxicant or another and fallen vicim to my own booby traps though. It always scared the beejesus out of me.

The Nebraska lesbians unpacked too.

Time to get out of here… It was time to go have a look at Beijing.

I left the hotel in a hurry and jumped on the first bus I saw… it didn’t matter where the bus was going…I didn’t care… I was sure that I hadn’t been there anyway. That’s the great thing about exploring like that. A new city… just go anywhere. It’s all new.

Sitting on the bus I was of course the only westerner riding it. The Chinese weren’t as polite as the Japanese and they would just stare at you forever… sometimes with mouth agape even… and I found myself very much the center of attention… the center of attention was something I really didn’t want to be. I kinda wanted to blend in really. That was going to be tough.

I started having what could only be described as auditory hallucinations on that bus… that happened alot to me in China… but right there it was bad… the cacaphony of Chinese voices started to filter itself out in my hyperactive mind and become english… I could understand things sometimes… I was certain that people were commenting on how intoxicated I was… they all knew it… they were all talking about me… looking at me… ‘Is that American guy drunk out of his gourd or what?’ I had to get off that bus. The sweat was pouring from my pores. It was getting to be more than uncomfortable… it was unbearable.

The next stop was my stop no matter where it might be… soon as it stopped I jumped off that bus so fast… I didn’t even have a clue as to where I was… and I didn’t care. Away from that hash house hotel and off of that bus…I just wanted my own little piece of contraband free real estate where I could sit and watch China go by and make amusing comments in my head to entertain myself.

This was my stop.

Before me was layed an enormous plaza… I had never seen such a large paved public space. It was gigantic enough it looked like you could lay down and land a 747 in it if you went from one corner to the next. It was so big and vast that the smog of Beijing obscured the other side of it from me. I didn’t know what this place was, but it made me feel realy small… insignificant actually… which was precisely how I wanted to feel.

I stood at Tienenmen Square.

This was the old Beijing… the one that used to be before the extremely systematic exploitation of cheap labor turned the place into a giant pachinko parlor… this was the dirty, dusty and gritty beijing where products were pulled around on wagons by teams of horses who shit big piles in the streets that you’d go straight over the handlebars of your bicycle if you didn’t look where you were going. I’d seen it.

This was the Beijing where the streets seemed impossibly large considering no one really owned a car… the Beijing where the old people all wore those navy blue or black or gray kung fu outfits and walked around stooping with their hands clasped behind their backs as if some ultimate power had ordered them to for all time.

This was the square in Beijing where less than a year had passed since thousands of students took a chance to try and change their world… this was the Beijing where tanks had rolled over them without mercy and their bodies were torn apart by the callousness of lead flying around at ballisticly high speeds and cruel random trajectories. This was the Beijing where their blood ran like rivers down the curbs and into the sewers where like the extinguishing of their tender lives for naught all was soon forgotten by a world more infatuated with its demand for cheap consumer electronics in attractive clamshell packaging.

The one year anniversary of the slaughter was approaching and here as if by accident I find myself in the place where history was made and so conveniently forgotten.

Here and there I could still see bullet scars, burns and other marks that told the tale of a failed movement killed in a single night of murderous debauchery.

It was eerie in Beijing. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Was it just the intoxicant’s influence? I couldn’t place it until I found a nice grassy place to sit down and let everything stabilize. Let my altered mind stop spinning.

The young people were all gone.

The government had sent what looked like the entire youth of the capitol city to ‘summer camp,’ where they’d sing patriotic songs and watch lots of motivational films and learn the error of their ways. It was re-education for the entire young population… there was almost no one walking around that city bettween the age of fourteen and twenty one. It was spooky… strange mojo in a strange land. Like some kind of Twilight Zone episode.

Everybody’s seen the picture of ‘Tank Man,’ that guy whose name the world doesn’t know… the one who was walking home from the grocery store with a couple of plastic bags in his hands… the guy who became a lonely human roadblock for a column of tanks… I know I could never forget that guy… he had balls the size of watermelons that one. I woudda love to have bought that guy a drink or eight.

I was walking down that street and a momentary sense of deja vu made me stop… It felt like I’d been there before… it didn’t take too long for the reality to hit me… I was standing in that spot. In the Tank Man’s spot. The premonition came from looking at that photograph.

There was a pay phone there… on the side of the street… you can see it in the Tank Man picture… I thought my parents might like to know where in the world I was so I tried to call them from it without luck. Maybe they’d think it was cool that I was calling them from there I thought.

I wanted to feel the scene out… I wanted to let it all sink in a little bit so I sat down and I had a look around. It all began to unfold in my mind… the direction the tanks came from… the sounds they’d make… their squeaking tracks rolling on the asphalt echoing in the canyon of concrete buildings… I could see the crosswalk he was walking across when it happened.

I stood up, still painting the scene on the canvas of my mind with the brushes of my imagination and I walked towards the crosswalk… just as he did that remarkable day.

Man… sometimes even I have a hard time putting things into words… sometimes feelings, emotions and perceptions are just too powerful and swift to get a grasp on.

Surveying the scene where this historic collision happened from the street… it was so much different than the picture we all know… that was shot from high above… it’s got a whole different tone than the lonliness and isolation that the street level offered. Just like in the square where I had felt so small… even the street there was massive in width… one of those subcompact cars flying through the smog could have crushed me like a bug. The thought of standing my ground in front of a column of many ton armored tanks with their diesel engines shaking and belching thick black smoke and rumbling in anger… I’ll tell you this… with the greatest respect that I can muster… that guy… at that moment… he took on the entire world. He was a bad ass motherfucker who said ‘hey… I don’t like what’s going down here.’ and he backed it up with his hundred and fifty pound body alone in the streets. He never even put those grocery bags down. But for a moment, that man stopped the world. He stood his ground. He stood our ground. He stood for everyman that day.

I didn’t.

I didn’t even chance stopping where he did. I didn’t want to stop a bus.

When I got across the street I walked back towards Tienenmen Square wondering what happened to the guy.

These thoughts were crisply punctuated when I found the remains of a completely flattened bicycle. It had been run over by something pretty heavy because it was as flat as a bicycle could conceivably become. It even had a curve to it… a lot of parts were gone but the frame, the handlebars, even the rims were crushed flat. I picked it up, still thinking about Tank Man and I realized what it meant.

Something inside me wanted to take it home… to show my people… people born and raised with a freedom fought for by others… I wanted to show them what we pretty much let happen here… the great crime that we ignored. It was a strong symbol to me at least of an oppresive government that lost it’s temper on it’s own people.

I’d never get that flattened bicycle home, but I carried stashed inside the tubes of my backpack messages that people had asked me to carry out of the country to a place where mistakenly so they thought good and decent people might give two shits about the treachery bestowed upon them in their quest for what we have but could really care less about. A freedom so strong… a freedom so deep that it was a part of me wether I was conscious about it or not… a freedom that formed the person I was and carried me on a long and mostly accidental journey to a place where youth was cut short for having the audacity and lack of patience to demand a more tolerant society where people would count for just a little more than cheap labor.

I promised myself I’d remember what happened to them. I promised myself that on June 4th, 1990 that I’d say a prayer there in Tienenmen Square. I’d recognize their martyrdom to the cause of freedom and I’d pay my respects on the anniversary of the barbarism of their all powerful and vicious central authority.

When that morning came with its sultry brownish orange sunrise, three hundred and sixty five days after the blood letting, when the flag of a nation was raised over it’s most proud square… I was the only person that wasn’t Chinese standing there as a witness to at least offer the the quiet contempt of my heart and the objection of my soul as a counterbalance to the disgrace of the murder of these children.

There were no television cameras or satellite trucks… no journalists fixing their hair or taking notes on those long pads that they carry. Nothing.

I carried no sign or banner… I spoke no message of objection. I sought to instigate nothing.

I stood there in Tienenmen Square as a witness.

A witness to what the rest of the free world was so selfishly quick to forget.

Two days later I’d board a train that I’d get off of in another world… where a wall that represented hate and anger and mistrust would be falling, hacked to pieces bit by bit by a people celebrating a new freedom and unity.