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dewykth · 4 years

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SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he��s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [20]

vii. long into an abyss

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Reaper things, drug withdrawal (kind of?? the 100 style), violence, near death things, language, mentions of blood, choking.

Summary: Everything hinges on Lincoln’s recovery and survival, which seems less likely as time passes.

a/n: in case you didn’t see my post yesterday, I finished writing s3 and it is a looong one! but I’m really happy with it and so excited to eventually share it with you guys! until then, here is part TWENTY! and yes, the taglist for this series is open!! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You’re halfway between the Delinquent Camp and Camp Jaha when Bellamy glances over at you, looking around Lincoln’s head. “You need to go get Clarke. We’re gonna need her if we’re going to figure out how to save Lincoln. Octavia and I will get him to the dropship.”

“Okay.” You shrug out from underneath Lincoln and Octavia takes your place, ready to carry him home. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

You turn from the siblings and break into a run, heading straight for Camp Jaha. It isn’t long before you hear the sounds of the camp in the distance, and you slow to a walk, moving to walk parallel with the perimeter so you can sneak in the back way. You walk until you find the small break in the trees and then you duck through it and jog up the short path to the fence. You look around for a stick and toss it at the fence, relieved to find that it isn’t electrified, before ducking inside and creeping from behind the buildings.

When you step into the camp, everyone is gathered in the center of it, looking towards the doors of Alpha Station. There your mother stands, with Jaha at her side, both of them looking tense. Your brows furrow as you watch the former chancellor, sure that the last time you heard his name it was because they were telling you that he was dead. “I have faith. And right now, given the alternative, that's good enough for me.”

“Not for us.” You turn when you hear her voice, eyes quickly scanning the crowd to find your twin. You catch her when she steps forward, closer to Jaha and your mother, Finn right beside her. Her voice rises angrily, “If we leave here, what happens to our people in Mount Weather?”

Leave here? Jaha’s gaze locks on Clarke. “As your mother said, that is a very difficult decision to make. But the time has come for each and every one of us to ask, ‘Is this how the story of our people ends? Did we come all this way just to die tomorrow?’ Because if we're not gone by the time that sun rises, that is exactly what will happen.”

You shake your head in confusion, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. The crowd murmurs, in fear or anticipation you’re not sure, and you start to sneak towards your sister as your mom wraps up the meeting. “No decision has been made. In the meantime, please report to your station supervisor and gather emergency supplies.”

Everyone starts to turn away, and you use the chaos and movement to make the final steps towards Clarke, reaching out and grabbing her arm. She spins quickly, shock and relief crossing her features. “Where have you been?”

“You need to come with me right now.”

“Why? What's happened?”

You shake your head, “I'll explain on the way. Grab your med kit and meet me at Raven's gate.”

She nods once and you turn away, ducking from the crowd and dropping your head to avoid eye contact with anyone who may be watching. You stop by the supply room on your way to Raven’s gate, and slip inside unnoticed. You jog past the shelves of clothes and head straight for the rations, grabbing a few extra and stuffing them in your pack. You make a u-turn and head towards the locked up weapons, reaching out to grab the lock and inspect it. You smirk when you see it, easily breakable, and turn back to the shelves of supplies to find something to put pressure on the mechanism with. As you’re searching, you hear the door slide open behind you, and you duck down, peering between the shelves to see who it is.

Your stomach flips when your eyes land on Shumway, who is heading over to the locked up weapons, keys jingling in his hand. You take a step back and duck down further, dropping from his view, but as your foot moves, you lightly bump the shelf beside you, rattling a can above your head. Shumway spins around, eyes landing right above you, and you hold your breath, praying he doesn’t spot you. His brows pull together and he pulls out his pistol as he starts to walk towards you, searching. You pull out your knife, your gun tucked away inside your backpack and push yourself backwards, into the shadows, until your back touches the wall. Shumway draws closer and closer, and you know it’s only a matter of seconds before he walks around the last shelf and comes face to face with you, clutching a knife and backed into a corner. Just as his boot crosses the line of the shelf, the door to the room slides open, and another guard steps inside.

Shumway spins towards him, gun raised, and the guard lifts his arms in surrender. When Shumway recognizes him, he lowers his gun. “What are you doing man? Help me get these guns ready for evac.”

“I thought I heard something. Someone.” Shumway tosses one last look in your direction before heading over to the guard and unlocking the cabinet, emptying all the weapons and ammo and loading them into bags. They each grab a few bags and Shumway starts to step towards the door when he stops and drops them. “I’m gonna find one more guy to help us carry these. Stay right here.”

The guard nods and drops his bags too, turning to lean against the wall and wait for the man’s return. Your eyes start scanning the room frantically, looking for a way out, before they land on a small window at the back of the room, blown out from the crash landing and open to the outside world. You creep towards it, your gaze jumping from the guard to the window as you maneuver your way closer to freedom. When you reach the back wall, you pull off your pack and toss it through, dropping to the floor as it hits the ground on the other side. The guard spins at the sound and looks around for a second, before turning back and leaning against the wall again.

You stand and jump up quickly, and hoist yourself through the window before dropping to the ground on the other side. You hear yelling from somewhere behind you as you reach down and snag up your bag before breaking into a run and heading towards Raven’s Gate. You come around the corner and find your sister already there and waiting for you. “Where have you-”

You cut her off and grab her hand, tugging her behind you until you reach the fence, quickly ducking through. Clarke is barely through it when you hear the fence start to hum with electricity again, and you turn to her in surprise. She grabs you and starts to lead you into the treeline, out of sight. “They’re probably checking over everything because of the threat.”

“Threat? What threat?”

She drops your hand when you reach the treeline and steps back to let you take the lead as she explains. “The Commander sent Jaha back to camp with a message: leave or be killed.”

“I thought Jaha was dead?”

“So did we.”

You turn to look at her, face serious. “Clarke, we can’t leave. The 47-”

“I know. I already told them that. For now, mom is on our side and doesn’t want to go, but I’m sure it won’t be long until she takes Jaha’s side.” Her eyes scan the area around you, lighting up with recognition. “Are we going back to the dropship?”

“Yes.” You step over a fallen log, and turn to make sure she makes it over too. “We found Lincoln. But he’s...not himself.”

“What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath and watch her from the corner of your eye. “He’s a Reaper.”

“A Reaper?” You nod. “How?”

“We don’t know.”

The trees open up to a clearing, revealing the fallen perimeter of your former home. Clarke doesn’t ask anything else, and allows you to lead her to the dropship. You ascend the ladder first, Clarke hot on your heels, and as soon as Lincoln spots you he lunges towards you, screaming with rage. You and Clarke jump in surprise, and Bellamy steps towards you both, offering some comfort. “It's okay, it's okay. He's been restrained.”

You both watch as he strains and pulls against his restraints, reminding you of when Bellamy tortured him. Octavia is on the ground near your feet, hunched over and exhausted. She lifts her head to meet Clarke’s eyes. “Can you help him?”

“I don't know.” She steps towards him, slow and tentative, eyes never leaving the struggling man. “I knew Mount Weather controlled the Reapers. I had no idea they were creating them.”

Bellamy shifts closer to you, voice low. “If they can do that to Lincoln, what're they doing to our friends?”

Your stomach drops, thinking of the 47 being beaten, tortured, and drained for blood. You work to swallow a wave of nausea, as Clarke mutters, “I need more light.”

You, Bellamy, and Octavia all grab your flashlights and shine them towards Lincoln, hoping that it’s enough. Your flashlight passes over his leg, his wound still bleeding, and Clarke turns to face you. “What happened to his leg?”

You watch Ocatvia’s face fall, then harden, as she avoids everyone’s eyes. “I shot him.”

“Clarke, he's lost a lot of blood.” Bellamy’s voice pulls her gaze away from his younger sister, and back to Lincoln. Her gaze rakes over him quickly, but you see her squint as she tries to get a closer look at something. “Can you shine the light on his neck?”

Clarke steps closer as Octavia lifts the light to Lincoln’s neck, and he turns away from the bright beam. “Needle marks.”

You step closer to her, confused. “You think he's being drugged?”

“Maybe.”

As soon as the word leaves her mouth, Lincoln pulls one of the chains keeping his arm restrained free. It hits Clarke as he grabs her and pulls her closer, trying to rip out her throat with his teeth. You jump into action and run towards them, only to be flung to the side and into the wall. Octavia suffers a similar fate before Bellamy runs forward, hitting Lincoln’s arm until he drops your twin on the ground. Lincoln rears his head back and collides it with Bellamy’s, sending him backwards while he shrugs himself free of the other arm restraint. You all scramble backwards as Lincoln lunges towards you, managing to stay just out of reach. Bellamy rolls and grabs the shock baton, jumping to his feet and running towards the possessed Reaper. Lincoln pulls one of his legs free just as Bellamy reaches him, deflecting the shock baton and tossing Bellamy to the ground. You watch as Lincoln delivers blow after blow to Bellamy’s face, blood blooming and spreading beneath his fists.

You jump up and run to them, screaming out in rage as you reach Lincoln and kick him in the side. He turns towards you and smacks you across the face so hard your neck cracks, and you hit the floor. You taste blood rolling over your tongue as Clarke runs over in your defense, only to catch a fist to the stomach that sends her flying. You roll closer and kick out at Lincoln, trying to keep him away from Bellamy, who you hear calling out your name in protest. Lincoln grabs your legs and pulls you closer, hitting you in the face a few times before his hands close around your throat and cut off your airway.

You hear Bellamy yelling in fear and anger as he lunges towards Lincoln, but he is knocked to the side easily by the Grounder. You feel your fingers reach into your pocket and pull out your knife, fingers closing tight around the handle as black spots dance in your vision. You plunge the knife into his side, but he doesn’t even flinch. Your lungs scream for oxygen as darkness starts to edge out your vision. And just before you think it’s over, Lincoln’s head snaps up and to the side as Octavia hits him twice with a large metal bar.

You take in a large gasp of air, nearly dizzy from the sudden influx of oxygen, as Bellamy staggers to his feet and stumbles over to you. He drops to his knees at your side, taking your face in his hands as he whispers, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you think about your closeness to death (again), and he leans down and kisses you, thankful that you cheated death once more. He pulls away and looks at you for a long second, affection and worry written all over his face. You smile at him, trying to reassure him, as you hear Clarke drop down beside you. Bellamy leans back as she reaches forward, her fingers gently tugging your collar down to look at your neck. She presses the skin around the already darkening bruises, and you wince. Her hands lift and skim over the cuts on your face, checking their depth before she meets your eyes. “You’re gonna be okay. Just some bruises and shallow cuts.”

They help you up and you turn to Octavia and reach for her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy for you.” She sniffles and nods into your hair, and you pull away and give her a serious look. “We’re gonna get him back. I promise.”

She nods again, and you both turn to look at Clarke and Bellamy. “We should get him tied up before he wakes up again.”

Everyone agrees and you all tear apart the dropship looking for things to restrain him with. Minutes later he is held back once again, this time with a series of ropes, cables, ties, and a net, all securely held into place at multiple anchor points. You all gather around him and Clarke begins to look him over again. “We have to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out, and patch up the knife wound. Hold his leg down.”

You and Bellamy move to his leg and pin it down. At the same time, Octavia tries to help Lincoln drink water, but he screams and spits it out, wasting what little water she had left. She closes the lid on the canteen and stands with a determined look. “That’s okay, I’ll get some more.”

She leaves the dropship and you all watch her go before Clarke turns her sights back on Lincoln’s gunshot wound. She digs around in her kit until she finds a surgical clamp, which she uses to dig the bullet out of his leg. Lincoln screams out in rage and pain and attempts to fight you off, but you and Bellamy bear down on him, keeping him in place. He only fights for a second longer before passing out from the pain, making the removal process easier for all of you. Once she has the bullet removed she cleans and stitches the wound before turning her sights on the next one.

She looks at the knife in his side before pulling it out and passing it to you. You wipe the blade off on your pants before tucking it back into your pocket. Clarke uses Lincoln’s unconscious state in her favor and cleans and stitches him quickly before he wakes up again. You whisper to her, “Mom would be proud.”

As she finishes she looks over at you, voice quiet. “Mom would know how to save him.”

She turns towards her kit and starts to drop her supplies inside, and you and Bellamy lean back from Lincoln and watch her. To the right of you, the hatch swings open and Octavia steps into view, followed by another person. The Grounder from the village, Nyko. You scramble to your feet in shock and Bellamy makes a mad dash for his gun, while reaching out to pull you behind him as he lifts the rifle to his shoulder.

Octavia steps in front of Nyko, face etched in panic. “Bellamy, don't! He's Lincoln's friend and their healer.”

Below you, Lincoln starts to grunt and shake, and Clarke leans over him, voice high with panic. “He's seizing again!”

The room is held frozen by a moment of tense silence, until Bellamy lowers his gun slightly and nods towards Lincoln, giving the healer permission to help him. Nyko pulls out a satchel and unrolls it, revealing a collection of vials, all full of different colored liquids. He scans them before picking up one with clear liquid inside and uncorking it.

“What is that?”

He ignores Clarke’s question and leans over Lincoln, whispering, “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

You glance over at Bellamy, who is still tensed up, and then at Clarke, whose gaze is bouncing between the vial, Nyko, and Lincoln. As he tips the vial and a drop starts to fall out, realization hits her and she sticks out her hand, catching the droplet. “Wait!”

Nyko pulls out a knife and Bellamy lifts his rifle again and aims it at the man. “Back off! Right now!”

You see Clarke’s mind spinning as she repeats the Grounder phrase. “Yu gonplei ste odon. It's what they say before death.” She turns to look at Octavia. “He's not trying to heal him, he's trying to kill him.”

Octavia turns and glares at Nyko. “Is it true?”

“Yes. Death is the only way.”

“Hold on. There could be a way to bring him back.”

He looks at her, and drops the knife. “None that I've ever seen.”

No one has a chance to answer before the dropship is thrust into chaos again. Finn’s head pops into the room, and you hear him say something about needing to leave before Nyko jumps up, full of rage. “You!”

He runs at Finn and grabs him, yelling at him in his native tongue. He slams Finn into the wall as Bellamy turns his gun on the Grounder once more. “Get off him!”

Nyko ignores him, hands shaking with anger as he pins Finn to the wall. “You slaughtered my people. Elders. Children. Innocents.”

His hands close around Finn’s neck, squeezing tightly, and you see the color drain from Finn’s face. “Nyko, you're killing him!”

“Blood must have blood!”

Clarke is frozen, eyes locked on Finn as the life drains from his body, and the Blake siblings scream back and forth about whether to shoot Nyko. You watch everything in a frozen panic before remembering the baton. You run to the other side of the room and grab it, lighting it up on your way over and pressing it to Nyko’s back. He screams out in pain and instantly drops Finn, and you see Clarke run towards him to check on him. You turn off the baton and your gaze locks with Bellamy’s. Octavia’s voice breaks the silence of the room when she yells, “Lincoln! He's not breathing!”

Clarke runs from Finn to Lincoln, checking for a pulse. “His heart's stopped. Move!”

She starts performing CPR, and Octavia watches on in horror. You and Bellamy stand over Nyko, his gun still lifted and your baton still in hand as you watch Clarke bring Lincoln back from the dead. He takes in a deep breath of air, gasping, and Nyko shifts beside you. You turn, ready to stop him again, but he stares at Clarke in fascination. “He was dead. How did you do that?”

Clarke turns towards him. “You've tried bringing Reapers back before?”

He nods and she asks, “And they died like this?”

You see her brain working again, and you meet her gaze. “What is it?”

“I know how to stop the attack.” She stands and turns to you. “I need you to come with me. We’ll need a united front to convince mom.”

You nod, agreeing, as she turns to the others. “Keep an eye on Lincoln and Nyko. We’ll be back soon.”

“What about Finn?”

She turns to look at Nyko, and then over at Bellamy. “I’ll take him with us, just in case.”

She steps away and heads down the ladder, and you move to the other side of the room and grab your pack. Bellamy steps up behind you and you pull the extra rations out, passing them to him. “You should eat. All of you. And you should get some rest. I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

He takes the rations and sets them aside, before turning back to you and giving you a serious look. “Be careful.”

“I will.” He pulls your collar aside and takes a peek at your bruises, before his eyes meet yours again. “I mean it.”

You stand on your tippy toes and give him a quick kiss. “We’ll be right back, I promise.”

You smile and then turn away, lowering yourself down the ladder and onto the floor. Clarke and Finn turn and step away from each other, and you can tell from the tension in the air that they were having a serious conversation. You look between the two, and start to head towards the door. “Come on, we have to hurry.”

They follow you out into the cool night air, the moon beaming down and cutting through the trees. Finn jogs ahead and leads your trio, leaving you and Clarke to walk side by side. You glance at her, searching her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Things are just...off between us right now.”

You reach out and grab her hand, squeezing in comfort, letting her know that you understand. She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts, before turning on you and twisting her mouth into a smirk.

“So you and Bellamy?” You blush and turn away. “I had my suspicions, but I thought he wasn’t your type.”

You bump her shoulder with yours, “Shut up.”

You both laugh, but she squeezes your hand. “I’m happy for you. You guys are good for each other.”

You give her a soft smile, thinking of what Octavia said to you a few days ago. “That seems to be the general consensus.”

She’s about to ask something when Finn turns back to you both and whispers, “Shh.”

He stops and listens for a minute, and you and Clarke follow suit, but you don’t hear anything other than the owls in the trees and the scurrying of animals through the bushes. A look of fear passes over Finn’s face before he grabs you and Clarke and mutters, “Run!”

You all break into a sprint, tearing through the trees, following Finn as he guides you through the darkness and towards safety. You don’t stop running until you reach the gate, and the guards open it and let you all inside. Your mom and Jaha are standing nearby talking, and Clarke calls out to them. “Mom!”

She runs towards you, looking angry until her eyes land on your face, adorned with fresh cuts, and her expression softens a little. “Where have you been? We're leaving.”

“I know how to stop the attack.”

Jaha spins towards Clarke, “What're you talking about?”

“We haven't been able to negotiate with the Grounders because we haven't had anything to offer them. The biggest threat they face is from the Reapers.”

You piggyback off your twin’s statement, “The Reapers are being drugged by the Mountain Men. Created by them. We think we may be able to eliminate that threat for them once and for all.”

Your mom is silent, considering both of your words before she asks, “How?”

“Abby.” Jaha’s voice is stern, a glare plastered on his face, directed between the three of you. “You can't seriously-”

He cuts himself off when the camp falls silent, his gaze locking on something out beyond the walls, you turn to follow his gaze, watching as four torches of fire glow in the distance. And then the four turn into eight, and then 16, 32, multiplying until there is a wall of fire right outside your walls. Your mom turns and looks at all of you. “Inside. Now.”

You follow her into the council room, grabbing Byrne and Sergeant Miller on the way, and you all stand around the table, staring at each other, considering the options. You’re the first to break the silence, “They're not attacking yet, which means we still have time.”

Your mother turns towards you, shaking her head. “We have two hours until dawn.”

“Let me talk to the Commander.” Clarke steps up from beside you, locking eyes with your mom. “She was Anya's Second. Maybe she'll listen.”

Jaha throws up his hands in frustration. “We don't even know if the Commander is here.”

“Yes, we do. Nyko told us.” All eyes turn to Finn as he comes in defense of Clarke. “You have to at least let her try.”

“Abby, we're wasting time. Give me the authority now.”

You turn a disgusted look towards the former chancellor, instantly put off by his tone. Your mom seems to feel the same way, because she cuts in, “Hold on. You said that Lincoln is going through withdrawal.” She hesitates, considering every angle. “We don't even know what he's withdrawing from. The detox alone could kill him.”

“That's where you come in.”

She looks at you, expression neutral. “And if I can't save him?”

“That's not an option.”

Her gaze locks with yours, reading your expression, running through the possibilities. She does the same with Clarke, noting your conviction, your desire to fix this now and save everyone. Jaha seems to get tired of this and grows incredulous. “We are risking everything on a bluff? Abby, we have an out. We have a way to save the lives of our people.”

You spin towards him, voice hard. “Not all of them.”

He jumps to his feet and slams his hand on the table. “We will come back to save the kids inside Mount Weather!”

“We all know that's not going to happen!” You feel Finn and Clarke step towards you, agreeing, joining in your defense. Jaha steps towards your mother and stops right beside her. “Abby. This has gone on long enough. If you do not give the order to begin the exodus, you are killing us all.”

“I'm sorry.” She pauses, leaving a moment for you to all wonder who the apology is for, until she turns to Jaha. “I can't give that order.”

He closes the space between them, dropping his head to speak directly into her ear. “Abby. Give the order.”

“No.”

His eyes grow wide and his energy grows more erratic as he glares at your mom. “I...am the elected Chancellor of the Ark. And I am not going to let you risk the lives of more people; do you understand? I'm going to ask you once again: give the order to begin the exodus.”

“No. Are you through yet?”

You watch as he starts to shake slightly with anger, and you reach your hand into your pocket, closing it around your knife, genuinely convinced he’s about to attack your mother and everyone else in this room. But then he seems to remember the audience, because his gaze shifts over to the rest of you. You can see him visibly trying to calm himself down as he steps away and walks over to Byrne.

“Sergeant Miller. Major Byrne. I am relieving Doctor Griffin of her command. Place these four into custody, but make sure they are ready to leave with the rest of us within the hour.”

Byrne and Miller stand completely still, unmoving. And Jaha’s voice rises in anger. “Right now, Major! Or the blood of everyone in this camp will be on your hands, too.”

Still, she doesn’t move. And despite your annoyance at her continuous spying, you commend her loyalty, because she doesn’t move until your mom opens her mouth. “Major Byrne, Sergeant Miller. Put Chancellor Jaha in the stockade.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

They reach for him, but he shakes out of their grasp and spins around in anger, looking at the woman who dares to defy him. “Everything we did to survive…” He trails off, looking over at you, Clarke, and Finn. “You're just throwing it all away. Why?”

“Because I have faith, too.” Her gaze shifts over to you and Clarke, standing side by side, her shining star and her little la lune. “In my daughters.”

You feel a rush of affection for her, unfamiliar, a foreign idea clouded by the strain in your relationship. Clarke is the first to step forward and address her. “Thank you.”

“I'll send the guard detail with you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “They'll see it as a threat. I have to do this on my own.”

You step towards your mother, “I’ll take you to Lincoln.”

She nods, and you squeeze Clarke’s hand as you pass. “See you soon.”

Your mom and twin share a hug before she turns towards you again, now ready to follow your lead.

The run back to the dropship is taken in complete silence, too much stress, fear, and anxiety on your minds to hold a conversation with each other. You make it back to the camp as the sun is rising into the sky, signaling the end of the timeline given to your people by the commander. You can do nothing but hope that Clarke is granted an audience and buys you enough time.

You step up into the dropship first, and Octavia sighs with relief as soon as she sees you. “Oh, thank god. Where's Clarke?”

“Trying to stop a war.”

Your mom immediately steps around you and heads for Lincoln, slipping into doctor mode as soon as she sees the state he’s in. “Pupils are unresponsive.” You catch Bellamy and Octavia sharing a concerned look before your mom hands rubber tubing to the younger Blake. “Tie off his arm. Tight as you can.”

She does as she’s told while your mom digs through her bag and tries to offer her some comfort. “Thanks to the supplies your brother found, he might have a chance.”

“What's that?”

“This will bring down his fever.” As soon as she starts to enter the needle into his arm, Lincoln gains consciousness and pushes her away. Your mom turns to you and Bellamy. “Hold him down!”

You both run over and restrain him, just as convulsions start to rock his body. They only last for a second before he grows still again. Your mom checks his pulse, and her voice is full of alarm when she says, “His heart's stopped.”

She directs Nyko on how to assist her during CPR, as she pushes down on his chest and attempts to restart his heart. There is nothing the rest of you can do other than watch on in terror as your last hope for a peace treaty with the Grounders dies with Lincoln.

You don’t know how long has passed before your mother stops, leaning back and looking down at Lincoln in pure defeat. Octavia glares at her, “You're stopping. What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Mom…” You trail off, unsure what to say, keep going, you can save him, they’ll kill us all for this, but she just gives you a sad look. “He's gone.”

Octavia pushes her aside, taking over. “No, it's not possible. You're wrong!”

You and Bellamy kneel beside her as she sobs and pushes on his chest, desperate to get him breathing again. You hear the hatch open as Octavia stops, a broken sob pushing past her lips. You make eye contact with Clarke as she steps inside, and you see her gaze drop down to Lincoln’s still body before meeting your eyes again. You can see the silent question there and you shake your head. A second person steps into the dropship, a girl with long dark hair and war paint smeared over her eyes. She exudes power and authority, and you’re almost positive that you’re looking at the Commander.

Her eyes are on the unmoving Lincoln, and you can see her rage grow as others step into the dropship to join you. You turn towards Bellamy, touching his hand, and his eyes shift towards you. You glance at his rifle and he reaches for it, and you turn to look around you for a weapon, stomach dropping when you find none. One of the Grounders looks at your group, and then at the commander. On her signal, she snarls, “Kill them all!”

Everyone in the room jumps into action. The Grounders all pull out their swords, Bellamy lifts his rifle, and your mother grabs the baton from the floor near your feet. You grab your knife from your pocket and wrap your other arm around Octavia, as she remains unmoving, still mourning the loss of Lincoln. Clarke looks at the commander, voice shaking in fear. “Please. You don't have to do this.”

“You lied, and you're out of time.”

Before anything else can happen, your mother drops to the ground beside Licnoln and activates the shock baton, pressing it to his chest. His body jumps and lifts from the power, before dropping back to the ground, still unmoving. Your eyes never leave his body as you mutter, “Hit him again.”

She complies, and this time the electricity jump starts his heart. Lincoln pulls in a deep gasp of air, and Octavia tugs herself out of your arms and into his line of sight. “Lincoln.”

He looks at her for a second, and then whispers, “Octavia.”

She sighs in relief and you turn to Bellamy, both of you looking at each other in shock as the tension from the last few minutes starts to melt away. You can hear the Grounders sheathing their swords, taking you out of danger for the time being. Bellamy smiles and you let out a quiet laugh of relief, before reaching for Octavia and squeezing her hand, celebrating the return of Lincoln and your hope for peace.

For now.

next chapter

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction

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uensis · 4 years

Text

𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ; that there is SIWON RYU , notorious for being ( materialistic ) and ( temperamental ) , but there are times when he can be ( individualistic ) and ( optimistic ) . i’ve heard that he could pass as a KIM TAEHYUNG doppelganger , but i don’t see it . the ( twenty four ) year - old agender ( witch ) has been in town for ( a few months ) and they are a ( cashier at one man’s treasure ) affiliated with ( the blackwood coven ) . they tend to spark images of views from a water tower , tattooed runes and basking in the sun .

𝐎𝐎𝐂 : hello ! i’m deni and i don’t know what an aesthetic is . i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone . i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea , so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same . my discord is gay fairy#6371 . anyway , here is one of my characters , a chaos child i adore very very much ! looking forward to writing with you ♡

——— wont let go at any price.

T . R . O . U . B . L . E . some folks are bound to project it out into the universe , aren’t they ? and of course it’d come straight from a brown-eyed cutie , two months into an apprenticeship with the high witch of daegu’s coven . started small a bit of magic here and there to ace gym class , write that essay and enchant his music to something irresistible to the ear with half the effort . of course siwon’s sudden transformation into a spectacular violinist and a sudden A student caught attention --- questions asked , answers insufficient . his parents and maester weren’t happy , the coven making subtle threats about an eviction if siown didn’t stop . he tried to make all these little problems disappear before BANG ! there’s cops at the door and reporters in the yard . the theater’s blown to bits and siwon’s left standing in the embers . he didn’t mean to . honestly , he didn’t . just thought a little tying up loose ends before he poofed over to nowhereville would be a good idea before that tenuous hold on magic just slipped------

so , that didn’t work out . that’s okay , siwon’s a boy of many talents . he peaced out and tried his luck in sokcho , moscow and tokyo --- wandered all the way around with a helping hand outstretched that just really , really wouldn’t cooperate . little scares here , some monsters there . siwon’s got a number out and half a dozen warrants to his name before he charms his way into the states and steals a junker of an RV for himself . sets out across the road , trying hard --- so hard --- to stay out of trouble this time because he so doesn’t want to go to europe yet . he sends his loving ( but TIRED ) parents postcards from cities and quirky museums he visits , and life on the road and jumping from coven to coven was pretty rough before his RV broke down on the outskirts of watermount . figuring this was the universe’s way of granting him a new home , siwon threw himself at a coven and struggles --- badly --- to adapt to the town’s laws . there’s so much to do , so much to see , and siwon’s terrible in the backseat .

——— we gotta make it last.

➤ full name. ryu si-won ➤ date of birth. january 29th ➤ hometown. toronto , canada ➤ gender. agender ➤ sexual attraction. pansexual ➤ romantic attraction. panromantic ➤ species. witch ➤ bonds. i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s probably rotting in jail somewhere ; i would do anything to prove myself superior to my hated rival . ➤ flaws. a scandal prevents me from going home again , that kind of trouble seems to follow me around ; if there’s a plan , i’ll forget it . if i don’t forget it , i’ll ignore it . ➤ wants. stability , power

home. huntington trailer park . upon arrival , siwon sold his RV for scraps and moved into an aluminum home outside wickery forest . it’s small , cramped with an array of thrifted furniture and old rugs . the closet’s overflowing with eclectic clothes and there’s always candles and incense burning . the roof leaks when it rains , and the porch is nothing more than a piece of plywood . old books and notepads sit in stacks on the floor with pots of half-grown herbs and weeds for his brews . his bed’s covered with pillows and fairy lights stay tacked to the walls . instead of doors inside , he’s hung beaded curtains and there’s crystals tucked under seats and tables to encourage good energy .

when he’s not at home , siwon’s likely to be found at the swimming hole wearing a bandana and board shorts . skips rocks , cannonballs , swings from that ratty old rope . collects moss and molds that grow around the docks . he enjoys sacred ground and lafayette cemetery for obvious reasons . spot him scarfing mint chocolate chip cones at the scoop no matter the time of year , grabbing fried rice and egg roll take-out at the china doll . he loves the blue and red slushies at the corner street bodega and the vegan pizza at big slice . for extra cash on the side , he’ll sell you some magic infused herbs behind wilson’s or the college campus , where he’s taking a few classes . at one man’s treasures , siwon offers tarot readings and talismans for a fair price ( though whether they’re accurate depends on how friendly he’s feeling ) and often spends the boring hours talking to the furniture and clothes there . curious --- terribly curious --- he’s preparing for a trip to the pit just to see what the fuss is about . makes tik-toks .

➤ connections.

what luck : siwon’s managed to land himself in a town that doesn’t allow magic outside of sacred grounds . how in the hell’s he supposed to get any better ? luckily , one man’s treasure and the trailer park don’t get many visitors , so he’s able to sneak in an extra practice or two--- until one day he’s caught . but no magic on town grounds doesn’t mean he can’t sell his charms and talismans and brews , so he has a nice set of customers who don’t mind paying under the table . of course that sets him up for competitors among the other witches in the community but hey , dude’s gotta pay the bills . siwon even takes commissions from supernaturals or humans who need a little something extra --- not to mention the infused herbs he sells to college students and . . . others that have psychedelic affects . for all his talents here , though , he shines the brightest with divination , and he’s demanded to give tarot and star chart readings to more than a few people , paid or pro-bono . a messy , messy trail he’s left behind has brought him into contact with a few hunters . we’ll see how that goes .

curiosity gets the best of him , so he makes plans to slip into the forest and the pit for a peek at things he probably shouldn’t see . he runs into a few difficulties there , either from others who’re just as curious or people who are hiding something . a ritual gone wrong brings a demon or dark energy into his life , and dude he’s not sure if the one offering a cash load for witch’s blood is going to do something shady or not . then there’s the typical set-ups , the close circle of friends he studies or hangs out at the bodega with , ones who’re able to drag him out to pandemonium when he’s in a dancing mood ( and the middle of the street isn’t cutting it for whatever reason ) . there’s a few hook-ups , past and present because he gets to hung up on people so fast and someone who arrived to town around the same time he did -- a few months ago -- and was his neighbor at the hotel . there’s cops and lawpeople he’s pissed off with antics around the swimming hole and other public property ( brewed spray paint is awfully hard to get off of metal and bricks , apparently ) . he’s got a magical mentor and is even trying his hand at mentoring a mentee’ , which should be . . . interesting .

➤ wanted connections taken.

christopher cho’s monster friend .

#hell.intro #. 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➤ SIWON RYU .#intros that are ready to be posted are que'ed throughout the day #likely to catch me on discord for plotting ! <3

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motherdayrush · 5 years

Text

Mother Day

Mothers Day Messages in English

God couldn’t be all over and along these lines he made moms.

Glad Mother’s Day!!

“M” is for the million things she gave me,

“O” signifies just that she’s developing old,

“T” is for the tears she shed to spare me,

“H” is for her heart of most perfect gold,

“E” is for her eyes, with affection light sparkling,

“R” signifies right, and right she’ll generally be.

Once upon a memory

Somebody cleaned away a tear

Held me close and adored me,

Much thanks to you, Mother dear.

The Miracle of Life sustained by a lady who gave us cherishes and sacrifice…MOTHER

Glad Mothers Day!!

Mothers Day Messages in English

For the best mother

who dependably had a grin for me

I realize we might be far separated at the present time

So here’s an extraordinary enormous embrace and kiss

Upbeat Mother’s Day

When you believe you are distant from everyone else in the group,

When you think No.1 can get you,

At the point when your adoration is dismissed by others,

and when you abhor your Life,

Happy Mother Day

Simply close your eyes, and see, her face who adores you

more than any 1 else,

who care for you in depression,

and bites the dust when you cry.

She is no 1, yet your sweet cherishing mother.

Love your mother first and dependably.

I accept this open door to thank you for your unlimited commitment to my life.

Much obliged to you Mom! Furthermore, wish you a Very Happy Mother’s Day!

You’ve seen me snicker

You’ve seen me cry

What’s more, dependably you were there with me

Mothers Day Messages in English

I might not have dependably said it

Be that as it may, thanks and I adore you

Glad Mother’s Day.

A child will unquestionably exceed his mom’s lap. Be that as it may, he will never exceed his place in her heart.

My reality would be so empty and hopeless without you. You’re the greatest help and most intense team promoter of my life. Adore you mother. Cheerful Mother’s Day.

A debt of gratitude is in order for enduring all my inclination variances, a debt of gratitude is in order for cleaning all the chaos I make. Cherish you! Upbeat Mother’s Day!

You are a holy messenger sent from up above. Loads of much love for my first historically speaking sweetheart. Cherish you a great deal mother. Glad Mother’s Day!!

Home will be homMothers Day Messages in Englishe as a result of you. Miss you a ton, mother. Return soon. Glad Mother’s Day!

May your first Mother’s Day be as extraordinary as you for you as the majority of mine have been a result of YOU! Glad First Mother’s Day To My Daughter!

My mom is an exceptional piece Of such’s appreciated in my heart, She is my pearl, my spirit, my mate; She is the one to make life incredible. She is a heavenly attendant without the wings!

I need to reveal to you that I am glad for you on the grounds that other than being a decent girl, you are likewise a great mother. I adore you definitely and I wish all of you the joy on the planet on this present Mother’s Day and dependably.

Mothers Day Messages in English

Mum,

You might be dealt with like the house keeper,

You might be dealt with like the nursery worker,

You might be dealt with like the childcare,

You might be dealt with like the chauffer,

You might be dealt with like numerous things.

Yet, one thing is without a doubt,

You will dependably be adored.

For a dads work might be from sun up till twilight,

Be that as it may, a moms work is never down.

And all that I have, am, and want to be, I owe to you,

So this is for every one of the occasions I neglected to state THANK YOU!!

Mothers Day Messages in English

A debt of gratitude is in order for sharing your recuperating heart to repair my broken bones, fix my broken heart and lift my broken soul. You’re much the same as a supernatural unicorn, mother.

Of the considerable number of mothers in all the world, nothing conveys me more bliss than to realize you’re mine.

From my shrewd great looks to my sharp comical inclination, when asked where I get everything, I’m respected to state it’s from my mother.

I may not know everything, except one thing, ‘s without a doubt, you’re a really great mother a person would ever request.

When you believe you are distant from everyone else in the group,

When you think No.1 can get you,

At the point when your affection is dismissed by others,

and when you loathe your Life,

Simply close your eyes, and see, her face who adores you

more than any 1 else,

who care for you in dejection,

and kicks the bucket when you cry.

She is no 1, however your sweet cherishing mother.

Love your mother first and dependably.

thank you, mother, for everything that you have done,

what’s more,

continuing accomplishing for me.

Much obliged to you God for having you as a feature of my life,

you have shown me numerous beneficial things,

today what I have turned into this is a result of you.

Wishing you Happy Mother’s Day

Mothers Day Messages in English

“Dear little girl, this present Mother’s Day, I earnestly trust that we share a wonderful day, recollecting tales from my first days as a Mom, and discussion about your short involvement as a Mother. Cheerful Mother’s Day”.

Individuals travel every which way however you’re generally there through my highs and lows. You’re really amazing mother one could have. Cheerful Mother’s Day.

Bringing up children takes a great deal of solidarity and enthusiasm. You’re my saint. Have an awesome time on this Sunday. Upbeat Mother’s Day.

You are a blessing from God… a companion that I can rely on and a magnificent model of a mother! I trust that you have an incredible Mother’s Day!

My reality would be so empty and hopeless without you. You’re the greatest help and most intense team promoter of my life. Cherish your mother. Glad Mother’s Day.

We may not generally be in great terms

We may contend, we may have some squabble

Be that as it may, toward the day’s end, your affection will eradicate all the hurt and torment

You’re really amazing and unique.

I adore you so much and Happy Mother’s Day

I can’t start to bless your heart

For all that you have accomplished for me.

Glad Mother’s Day!

Mothers Day Messages in English

Mother, you have constantly energized and bolstered me for my entire life. Much appreciated and Happy Mother’s Day!

Glad Mother’s Day to the best mother I could request.

I am glad to the point that God gave me such an extraordinary mother like you.

Glad Mother’s Day!

Mother, I realize that you are not immaculate, however, nor am I.

A debt of gratitude is in order for continually attempting.

I adore you!

Glad Mother’s Day!

You have dependably shown me, ensured me, energized me,

what’s more, acknowledged me for my identity!

I will dependably be thankful.

You are something other than a mother to me,

You are my closest companion!

Cheerful Mother’s Day!

Just a mother could do what you do and that is exposing up with me all year!

Have an extraordinary Mother’s Day!

Numerous embraces

Just love never outrage

Educating me

Helping me

Each grin when I was tragic

Raising me to be solid

It spells Mother. A debt of gratitude is in order for being u.

To the best educator.

Best counsel.

Best cook.

You are simply marvelous!

Cheerful Mother’s Day Mom!

Mother is a piece of God.

Mother is a piece of Love.

Mother is a piece of our Strength.

Mother is a piece of our Winning.

Mother is a piece of who directs us to the right way to continue.

and . and so on.

Mothers Day Messages in English

I Love my Mother without question.

Dont let ur Mother make tracks in an opposite direction from u.

Cheerful Mothers Day.

For the best mother

who dependably had a grin for me

I realize we might be far separated at this moment

So here’s an incredible enormous embrace and kiss

Glad Mother’s Day

Once upon a memory

Somebody cleaned away a tear

Held me close and cherished me,

Much thanks to you, Mother dear.

Mother, dear mother, the years have been since a long time ago I last listened to your cradlesong melody: Sing, at that point, and unto my spirit, it will appear Womanhood’s years have been just a fantasy.

Much thanks to your mother for everything that you have done

also,

continuing accomplishing for me.

Much thanks to you God for having you as a component of my life,

you have shown me numerous beneficial things,

today what I have turned into this is a result of you.

Wishing you Happy Mother’s Day

My mom is an uncommon part

Of such’s loved in my heart,

She is my pearl, my spirit, my mate;

She is the one to make life incredible.

She is a holy messenger without the wings!

Mother was my most prominent instructor,

an instructor of sympathy, love, and courage.

On the off chance that affection is sweet as a blossom,

at that point, my mom is that sweet bloom of affection.

“Mother Is Great Blessing Of God Respect Her”

I accept this open door to thank you for your tremendous commitment to my life.

Much obliged to you Mom! Also, wish you a Very Happy Mother’s Day!

It’s my time tô knôw yôu thât hôw fôrtunâte ând speciâl I âm tô be honored with â môther âs câring, lôving âs yôu. Wish yôu â hâppy Môther’s Dây Môm.

Much obliged to you mother for everything that you have done

what’s more,

Mothers Day Messages in English

continuing accomplishing for me.

Much obliged to you God for having you as a feature of my life,

you have shown me numerous beneficial things,

today what I have turned into this is a direct result of you.

Wishing you Happy Mother’s Day

I wake up and call her in the first part of the day,

She is dependably there for the replying,

Continuously raced to help me when I fell,

Furthermore, kiss that spot to make it well,

She is a mind-blowing fortune,

Who let me know never to lie,

Best voice God has given,

It is just the sound of paradise,

Satisfy my desires these and others,

Goodness! she can be just my mother. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

M – For the MILLION things she gave me,

O – For she’s developing OLD,

T – For the TEARS she shed to spare me,

H – For her HEART of most perfect gold,

E – For her EYES, with affection light sparkling,

R – For she is in every case RIGHT and dependably be.

Such a large number of brilliant minutes we have spent together,

such a large number of brilliant years in a wide range of climate,

considering u mother conveys recollections to mind,

superb minutes I ‘ll treasure,

these u gave me earnestly that is the reason, my mother,

I cherish u so sincerely. Cheerful Mothers Day My dear Mom

Mother, I cherish you,

For all that you do.

I’ll kiss you and embrace you,

Since you adore me, as well.

You feed me and need me,

To instruct you to play,

So grin since I adore you,

On this current Mother’s Day.

Mother U are brilliant,

Mothers Day Messages in English

A Mother is somebody,

who’s unique and dear,

somebody who’s cherished,

significantly increasingly consistently,

She’s never excessively rushed,

to grin and to mind,

she generally requires some serious energy,

to offer and to share

A Sad mother was sitting with her child.

Child: you are the second most delightful lady

I have ever known!

Mother: Who’s first?

Child: Its additionally U however

at the point when u grin..

I wake up and call her in the first part of the day,

She is dependably there for the replying,

Continuously raced to help me when I fell,

What’s a more, kiss that spots to make it well,

She is an amazing fortune,

Visit our website : Mother Day Rush

Who let me know never to lie,

Best voice God has given,

It is essentially the sound of paradise,

Satisfy my desires these and others,

Goodness! she can be just my mom.

Arms of everlasting love

Contact of sweet ro.s.

#motherday #happymothersday #2019 #may

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rarestereocats · 5 years

Text

We all step into the new captain's quarters to go over what our next plan of action. We need to gather as many useful crew members as we can in this town or we'll be stuck in port for awhile. We decide doing some recon is a must in this place, so well part ways to tackle this task. TT and Antic visit the library to collect records on any nearby penal colonies, Owkbanok and Inami collect information on the whereabouts of several plantations, Amelia and Tonari get word of a prisoner ship coming in the next day as well as a slave ship arriving in a month's time, and me and Nathan case the prison by magical means as I jot down anything that may be of use to our plan. With that, we all reconvene to swap information and go over everything. The penal colonies are off on some islands and given that we can't get out of the port without a crew to row our ship, that's off the table for the time being.

The prisoners on the ship will likely be taken to the prison in town, so our best options are a prison break or hitting up the largest plantation in the area to liberate the slaves and hope we can recruit them. Hitting the prison first will have all eyes on us, so we decide to go do some recon on the plantation and hit that first. It's a few hours out of town, so we hitch a carriage ride, the driver a young human man by the name of Finn who's fate was sealed the minute TT whispered to me that we should kill him afterwards. After all, he might hear things he shouldn't and we don't want him turning around and selling our asses out and as the ride goes on, we all start to make him more than uncomfortable. With each word out of our mouths, Finn grows more and more scared as we hint to an early death for him and ask him needlessly personal questions that trigger his alarm bells even further.

This boy's sweating up a storm and trying to convince us that he's never exposed anyone's secrets and doing anything he can to butter us up so he doesn't die tonight and for awhile, we all consider leaving him be once this is all said and done. But upon reaching our destination, I can't take the risk of our plan being passed along to the town guards, so I ask dear Finn for a hug. He's hesitant, but after a moment, leans in for an uncomfortable hug and promptly gets my dagger to his spine and his body deposited in the nearby rose bush. We take a gander at the land before us, taking note of the guards and fields themselves, but also where the slaves are kept in the evening. With that, our current plan is to have Owkbanok go in and pose as a slave as this is a human owned property and it appears any half-orcs here are kept as such, so his presence as anything other than that might be alarming. So we hold onto his gear for him so it isn't stolen away and with that, the rest of us go to speak with the owner of the property.

It's all to gain entry into his home so we can take him out later to free the slaves, but for now, we all exchange pleasantries and pretend to make a deal to buy a couple tons of grain. The deal's set and we ask for a place to stay and this clueless man offers us rooms so long as we pay half of what we agreed upon for the grain. This works wonderfully for our plan as a gnoll servant leads us to the rooms, TT asks her to leave her master's bedroom door unlocked and we'll all keep her safe. There's only three rooms, so TT and Nathan take one of their own, leaving me and Amelia to share a bedroom. And as the Slut Squad usually does, we pound it out (I swear it's just to pass the time) and it's in this moment that I realize there's something different about her. Did she do something with her hair? Is it her perfume? No, you see, everybody; Amelia here isn't as human as she claims to be.

She's a changeling; the offspring of hags and beings that hear a spiritual "call" to discover their origins after a certain age. Now Amelia knows her parents...or what she's assumed are her true parents. The King and Queen of Carlo Rose, two perfectly normal humans. She has no idea about this changeling stuff and is offended when I bring it up and tell her about how a hag is her mother. She's in denial and doesn't believe me, which is fair considering my wild conspiracy theories I lay on this party when I'm high, but still; I've hunted enough magical beings to know their true natures when I see them. It's clear it's something she's not willing to entertain though, so I drop the subject. Though c'mon, what's better than boning and then immediately trying to make somebody question their own humanity afterwards?? With the silence becoming uncomfortable and Cayde losing his shit at the door because Owkbanok's in trouble, I get up to take him outside as I'm thinking he just wants to go run around.

It's very clear once I step out that he doesn't want to play as there's the stench of blood in the air and Cayde is still losing his mind. Because while the rest of us were getting cozy, poor Owkbanok was getting manhandled by guards and having no choice but to grin and bear it for the sake of the plan. He gets a little too lippy with them and after he punches one of them in the face, they demand he go gather up the other slaves so they can bear witness to his punishment. This gives him the perfect opportunity to pick some of their brains about the revolt one of the guards mentioned and he learns the slaves have been planning it for a month. They easily outnumber the guards and have been stashing some weapons for when it all goes down, to which Owkbanok ensures them that it'll happen soon enough. Once he gathers the crowd, the guards make an example out of him, whipping him within an inch of his life before going back to their posts and some orcs kindly drag him back to their cabin so he can rest.

Knowing Owk's in trouble, I secure his sword and some healing potions to Cayde's harness and turn the leopard loose. He manages to sneak through the property, finding the orc cabin and pushing his way through the rotted wood in the back to avoid the guard posted at the front door, and Owk's relieved and grateful to see the care package. The other orcs help him stash his weapon as it's more than clear that the revolution begins tonight and back at the manor, the rest of us have reconvened in one of the bedrooms to figure out the next step. TT's going to sneak into the bedroom to take out the guard that's been posted in the master's chambers and then take him out afterwards, and possibly even his wife. But her plan falls to pieces as the guard doesn't immediately die from her attack and she trips, stumbling back through the bedroom door and into the hallway, alerting the rest of us that it's go time. I take out the master easily enough, Cayde mauling his wife afterwards, but the guard manages to slip past us like he's a walking stick of butter until Nathan puts a crossbow bolt in his back.

With Amelia's new guard zombie, Shaun (of the Dead), kicking down the glass door to the outdoor world while we all scream about a riot, the slaves on the property know it's go time. Owkbanok immediately sets his sights on the guard he nearly whipped him to death, hitting him with some scorching rays while TT works on toppling the guard towers. Nathan sets one on fire and me and Cayde just work on culling the herd of guards that are quickly getting overwhelmed with the entire situation. It's not a good day for any of them considering we're not even giving them an inch to breathe nor surrender and anybody that tries to flee is taken down easily enough. In all the chaos, some of the slaves take this as a chance to escape themselves, so when the dust finally settles, there's only a whopping 28 of them left and the 3 house servants who were busy packing up loot for us during the battle.

Owkbanok gives them a speech, letting them know who we really are and that we're seeking recruits. They don't have to come along, but anyone who does gets 300 gold for signing on and 25 of them agree to join, 28 once we ask the house servants to join us. We can't take a bunch of liberated slaves into town, so TT has her parrot fly back to the ship with a note to tell our crew to meet us at the shoreline with the rowboats so the slaves can get directly to the ship. TT and Owkbanok handle escorting the slaves to the shoreline while me and Amelia gather up the valuable horses and loot and go directly back to town. Understandably, the ruckus has caught somebody's attention finally and as a squadron of guards tries to stop us on the road; we both pretend to panic and fear for our lives. These guards nearly catch our bluff, but we escape by the skin of our teeth and once back in the town, we quickly load up the horses and get settled for the night.

The other group is gone for h o u r s as the shoreline was much farther than they anticipated. They travel through the night and morning, all of them dead tired when the shores are finally in sight and they all clamber aboard the rowboats. While we're all worried for our crewmates, me and Amelia take our stress out on each other, bickering like a couple who's spent 40 years too many together. We take verbal jab after jab until things turn physical as she goes to kick me, but I flawlessly trip her ass...only for her to trip me to the ground with her after. It seems the wires that separate "arguing" and "foreplay" have gone terribly amiss for the two of us cuz while our friends are out there struggling to get back; we decide to have yet another tryst in order to forget about our problems. Eventually, the others finally arrive back by nightfall and we can all take a breather and help our new crew get settled in before we tackle the prison break.

#adventures of the volunteer fire department #oc: huey romero #game: pathfinder pirates

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wristic · 7 years

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Death Pact

Pairing: Jerome Valeska X Reader Word Count: 2300 Warning: None

Anonymous Requested: :DDDDD could u write something for Jerome when he's in Arkham and the reader's there too and she's got everyone wrapped around her little finger and he's impressed :) also if their relationship dynamic could be v flirty that'd be super cool :)))) if u wanna change anything feel free! xxx

~~~

What was the trick? The tactic? Why the hell did smiling and being coy work so well for you but ended with him being punched in the face? Jerome squinted harder from his spot in the med line. Sweetly, you complimented the young woman handing out medication, you joked with the guard beside her. You always had a hefty load yourself, half the plastic cup filled and colorful like candies. The cup wavered as you talked and talked and they laughed and laughed.

Come time to down the meds, you took the cup of water, winking as you walked away. Jerome’s jaw dropped, watching you walk away without them hounding you for cheeking your meds, which you did, pretending to scratch your face as you slipped them out, pocketing them to share with your more hungry inmates.

He tried it too, chatting and smiling with the staff. However they had the opposite reaction, growing more and more annoyed with him, pushing him to take his meds and prying his mouth open to check every cranny, making him take another drink and really swallow them this time lest he get a needle in an unpleasant place. Walking away to angrily toss the empty cups in the trash, he power walked up behind you, startling you with a “Hiya!”

“Oh, hello.” You bashfully smiled, twisting and shy. Quickly you tried to side step away from him, but Jerome hooked an arm over your shoulders and yanked you back to his chest.

“You seem like a good friend! The kind of friend who knows how to help a fella out!”

Still keeping up the innocent act, he giggled to himself over your forced stumbling, “I-I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to do my time-” You were spun into the caged cafeteria, the guards giving him a hard glare for entrapping you like he did. They all seriously bought into your demeanor? They do remember you being charged for convincing entire groups of friends into occult death packs right?

“Come on now, no one who earned the title The False Harbinger just sits and thinks pleasant thoughts all day. You must know someone who could be our ticket out of this thing right?”

Your shock was adorable, getting more and more nervous, glancing to people left and right, the guards stiffening to your defense they weren’t supposed to care about. “I-I-I’m not sure what-”

Jerome shushed you, tapping your nose after he did. “I get it, I do, never know when someone's watchin’.” He winked, “Just think on it, Gorgeous. I know how you like to have toys-oh! I mean friends!” he laughed, walking away in all confidence.

It wasn’t until night that he saw you again, oddly enough in a place he shouldn’t: his own room.

Just outside his door he could hear you whispering with a guard, Jerome sitting straight up in anticipation. When the keys jingled and shuffled into the lock of the thick iron door, he stood up and waited with a smile. The door screamed open and there you were. Sweet and shy as always, the guard breaking every rule in any asylum anywhere glaring at him, Jerome chuckled. “Well well well, what a surprise.”

The guard whispered to you, “You sure about this?”

You nodded, whispering back with a gentle smile, “And remember, no listening, this needs to be genuine.”

“But-”

“Don’t you worry about me.” You patted his shoulder, “I can always scream.”

The man’s lips went tight, his brow knitting in worry. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I know.” You gave him one last smile and nod, stepping in and watching him shut and lock the door. The man was hesitant to leave, his footsteps slow to fade. Turning your face to Jerome, the quiet innocence didn’t let up, not even as you admitted, “For someone who wants to escape you sure are noisy about it.”

Jerome clapped, jumping up excited, “I knew it, I knew it!” A half smile slipped on you, looking about his room covered wall to wall in art, contraptions and set ups, daydreams of setting Gotham into a blaze of chaos. “I got a sense for these things ya know, nobody knows crazy like crazy!”

“I don’t like to call myself crazy.” You admitted. “More curious than anything. What can I convince people to do? How far can I push them before they realize they’re at the edge?” You softly giggled, “Dr. Strange says I have promise in his field. That if I make a full recovery he might enlist me here.” You pulled a picture of a clown, looking menacing with his smile reaching his ears and wild deranged eyes, but in a surprisingly nice suit. “Something tells me helping people isn’t his main goal.”

Jerome snuck up behind you, slipping the picture from your hand and tossing it to the side. “Does he know you’re playing his staff like sparkly-eyed dolls?” Arms snaked around your waist, spinning you back to the center of the room. “Does he know you can escape anytime you want?”

“I wouldn’t say anytime. There’s a certain piece that’s been missing...” You looked up at him, looking so chaste and mild mannered. “By myself it would be awfully suspicious to ask to escape. However, it’s just plain cruel to keep apart two crazy kids in love.”

He raised a brow to that. “You want to pretend we’re falling in love?” He snickered, “How would that work to convince anybody to sneak us out?”

You tapped on his arms still hugging you, “Clearly it wouldn’t be hard to fake, and you’d be surprised how people bleed for a good love story. All I’m asking for is some patience and a decent performance.”

His arms suddenly left you to strike a casanova pose, “Performance is what I’m all about, baby!” Jerome held out his hand which you took with a giggle, him kissing it and pulling you back to his chest where he held you again, swaying in a subtle dance. “Just say the word and I am at your mercy!”

Your laugh died down in a sigh before you pointed out, “You might want to tone it down a bit.”

“Now you’re not being any fun.”

~~~

Jerome’s foot tapped fast under the table, glaring past the windows, caged and frosted, blocking the outside with a sheet of dusty light. He heard your voice in the background, talking with the guards. It had been a good three months of you devising every step, asking a few strange things here and there, but now you asked him to get mad at you.

It wasn’t hard. The only way he could see this going down was with him getting locked up tighter and the staff carrying you off on a golden sympathy chair to freedom. You came around, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Jerome?” He looked away. You were playing him, you played everyone and he let himself become another piece. You ran a hand through his hair and sat down with a nervous smile, “Jerome, what’s wrong?”

The only rule was not to physically hurt you. You made it imperative, no physical retaliation no matter how amped up he got or else it would ‘ruin everything’. He was tempted on that alone to rip your hands from him and shove you to the ground. Instead he jerked away from your touch, mumbling, “Go away.”

You scooted closer, trying to see his face. One thing he had to hand to you, you were a damn good actor. Worrying your lip, concern dripped from your words. “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

He mumbled, twisting a stray string on his shirt and you asked for him to clarify. “I said, Leave me alone!” He shouted, jumping up. As he walked away, you frantically stood up and followed after him. You grabbed his wrist, agitating him into suddenly grabbing you by both arms, raising you to your tiptoes. He halted, feeling a conflicting knot in his head. The guards held their breath, waited for him to give them a reason. To lock him up in a small chest and never let him out.

A piece, a very very small piece of Jerome wanted to think you were still on his side, that all this wasn’t for nothing. Pretending to be dating for the past three months had been fun. It was impossible to tell how much of it was fake or real, but you were easy to get along with. You laughed at his jokes, you took part in his stunts, you didn’t at all mind letting him have the limelight. You did it all with a smile.

However Jerome refused to believe he’d fall for your charm. You didn’t care for him, it was a plan, he was only a piece in a plan.

Gently, he put you back down. Fighting with his raging self to not remain passive, old memories throwing themselves at him of just where passive got him.

Pulling his shaking hands to himself he huffed through his nose. “Just-just leave me alone.”

You’d better hold up your end. If you didn’t he supposed it wouldn’t be a problem. You’d just be on his list, and you might be able to escape Arkham but there would be no escaping his wrath.

~~~

This time as night came, the Dr. Barros who handed out meds and her guard were there with you, both completely silent as you stepped in and shut the door behind yourself. Jerome stood, something in his bones telling him this was wrong. Instinct twisted in his gut, whispering he should run. You walked toward him steadily, assured. Without any hesitation, your hands came up to his face, pulled him down to your lips.

It was the first kiss you gave him and the first allowed. Always assuring baiting held people’s interest tighter. He was entirely put off, stiff in not expecting this and it only spoke louder about something being amiss here. The shock didn’t stop it from feeling nice though, needy but as gentle as you always played.

Hesitantly Jerome raised his hands to your shoulders. You pulled on his shirt, signaling him to give in and keep playing into the forgiveness act. It was hard to tell how far it was supposed to go. There were people outside after all and they hadn’t left. However every slip of your lips, every soft touch of your hands and fingers, you kept deepening it, pulling him closer to some edge until you broke to breathe, short soft panting heating the air between you.

Something sharp pressed into his neck. He couldn’t see it, but very clearly recognized it as a thin needle itching just barely under his skin. It was hidden in your sleeve, but you wouldn’t empty it. You stared up into him, wide doe eyes asking for his permission. The tension was clearly making you dizzy as your other hand clutched his shoulder. You wanted his consent, begged for it.

He felt a bit cold, a bit hesitant, this was crazy. Good thing crazy was his constant state of mind. With a chuckle Jerome pulled you into his chest in a big hug, right back into that invading kiss he didn’t realize before he wanted so badly.

The needle burned as it sliced the rest of the way into him. Jerome grunted by the pain, a fresh wave of cold rushing up the veins in his neck. Yet as soon as it when it, you pulled back, holding the empty needle before him. A dizzy wave hit him as you stepped out his grip, a beautiful giggle echoing in his room, watching him stumble to his knees.

“Wha-what did you-... is this going to kill me?”

“Sorry,” You whispered, dropping the needle and falling on your knees beside him, pretending to hold him dearly, “I just had to see if you’d actually do it!” The more his energy was sapped from him it seemed to go to you, looming over him with the biggest smile he’d ever seen.

As he tapped his fingers to your ecstatic grin, Jerome fell in love all over again. With a snicker he got one last word out, “Crazy.”

~~~

The blinding white light was out of place. So was the smell of oolong tea and the sound of people chattering, dulled behind a screen. Blinking, a massive headache started beating against his skull. Jerome groaned and started rubbing his burning eyes.

“You’re up!” A very familiar, very sweet voice came. Suddenly his feet were tossed up for you to jump out from under, carelessly letting them drop on the couch and shaking his migraine. You came back with some water and some aspirin. “She said you’d be a bit groggy until you drank some water.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The more psychotic version of you wouldn’t leave his head, craving to see it again. For now he forced himself to sit up, taking the cup. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, I knew-”

“Don’t you worry, Dr. Barros knocked me out afterwards too, I just wanted to see how much you trusted me.”

“Which I don’t anymore.” He mumbled between gulps of water he was hungering more with every sip.

“Oh! That reminds me! I saved it for you!”

“Saved what?”

You ran over to the stand of videos, pulling an untitled one out and pushing it into the VCR. What played was a news report, talking about young love found in the oddest of places, how it ended in a double suicide, a true tragedy. You listened, placing a hand over your heart in an exaggerated amorous sigh.

It was then he really looked around, a small apartment decorated with old age femininity. Floral green couch with knitted colorful blankets, vases of flowers and decorated mugs and plates. Was this supposed to be Barros’ apartment?

“We’re out?” He asked in disbelief.

“We’re out!” You excitedly jumped up, a little of that well hidden energy seeping out.

Just as he was about to celebrate he snapped, “And you did it by making me think I was really gonna die!?”

You were actually shocked by his reaction, shrugging with an innocent defense, “I thought you’d think it was funny!”

You were lying, but damn if it wasn’t a cute reason and damn if it didn’t have an effect on him. “You little scamp! Get over here!”

You hopped onto the couch next to him, where Jerome yanked you up the rest of the way, crashing you into a bear hug. He stole a kiss and you tensed in surprise. He held you against him like a snake. Letting you know no guards were going to make him hesitate anymore. Maybe Arkham had been your game, but out here, it was his turn to call the shots.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome velaska x reader #joker imagine #joker x reader #gotham imagine #my stuff #Death Pact #this one came out the grave and started getting likes and I was like noooooo please it needs to be edited it could be so much better!

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kitterahsdollhouse · 7 years

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Three Rings Of Fear-Pt 9

(Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 ___ Pt 10)

(This is the final part, but I DO plan on a short epilogue!)

BANG!

A gunshot rang out clearly over the shouting below. Songbird gasped loudly. Suddenly pain lanced through Nicholas’ wing. It took them a few seconds to connect the two. They spotted the chanter who had shot them, smoking pistol still pointed at them. The chanter then moved to reload while Nicholas struggled to stay in flight, pulling against their injured wing and Arindale’s weight. Reloaded, the chanter pointed the gun forward once more. With one wing already injured, Nicholas knew they had no chance of dodging the next shot.

BANG!

Nicholas fell from the sky.

Songbird began to dive for them while the chanter reloaded and took aim at Nicholas once more. Arindale dropped her whip. She knew neither of the birds would be going anywhere now. Now was her chance to deal with the chanter trying to literally kill her profits. “You bastards need to leave me and my circus alone.” She demanded, picking up a sword from the ground. The chanter said nothing but the same mantra all of them had been saying the whole time.

While Arindale and the chanter fought, Songbird took the opportunity to land beside the wounded Nicholas. She gently pulled their hand, urging them to get up. “W-w-we can go!” she chirped, desperately trying to help them up, but between her small size and little strength, she did little to move the larger Ziz. “Get u-up pl-leas-se!” she pleaded, but Nicholas just shook thier head.

“I can barely fly with a wing like this,” they explained, motioning to their injured wing where blood was staining the white specks on the feathers. “We’ll be too slow, and if we go on the ground, they’ll track us and we’ll be caught. Little one, you have to go and leave me here.

“NO!” She protested, tears welling up, “I can-n-n heal y-you!” Her voice rang out softly amidst the dying chaos, but Nicholas stopped her. “No! You’ll need your magic little one. It’s not strong enough to heal me and protect you. Now HURRY, before they see you. Run. Run and don’t come back. Don’t even look back.” Songbird’s tears began to overflow. “I won’t! I won’t leave you!”

“You have to!” Nicholas nearly shouted, an edge of urgency in their voice. Seeing Songbird flinch, they winced and lowered their voice. “You have to, little one,” Nicholas reiterated as calmly as they could. “I just want to rescue at least one of you from this terrible place. Go. Make it home for both of us.”

BANG!

Songbird turned her head in time to see Arindale fall, shot down by the chanter. She struggled to get back up, then fell still. The two Ziz didn’t have much more time; with Arindale out of the way, the chanter’s attention turned back to them.

Still holding Nicholas’ hand, Songbird watched the chanter load their pistol. Her heart and mind raced, but she was too scared to move. Nicholas acted first, moving their good wing in front of her to shield her as best they could. “Be brave, little one. Be brave and GO!” Nicolas shouted as they let go of her hand and used some magic to push her away. Finally, Songbird seemed to understand. She backed away slowly first, then turned to run.

BANG!

The lone little Ziz, fought the urge to look back and see what happened to Nicholas, to turn back and urge them to come with her again. She heard a Raptor’s cry and hope found its way in; they were still alive and fighting! It was the last thing she heard of her friend as she took off into the sky and left the demolished circus behind her.

She didn’t go far, still unwilling to really leave Nicholas behind, though she could no longer hear anything aside from normal, calm forest sounds. Holding out hope that Nicholas would survive and escape too, that they could meet in the forest once everything settled, she perched on a thick tree branch with a nice crook that could hold. Alone, cold, tired, and hungry, she slept wedged in the fork on the branch, hoping that she could find Nicholas once the sun rose.

The sky was a pale blue when Songbird woke. The sun just peeking over the horizon. She glided from her perch in the tree to the ground and headed back to the circus on foot, unsure of what she’d find there. It took her much longer on foot than it had when she flew, but she found her way back regardless. Now the sun was at full strength, the day promised to be sunny and warm. She had looked for Nicholas on her hike, but while she saw signs of passage through the woods, she saw no sign of Nicholas. Not even a feather.

When she arrived, the entire circus was in ashes. Bodies lay strewn around like abandoned dolls; circus staff, oddities, animals, even chanters could be seen, some bodies burned beyond recognition. The place felt eerie, particularly when juxtaposed with her memories of the bedlam from the night before. Songbird walked aimlessly out in the open, through the destruction; scanning the bodies and looking for any sign of Nicholas, hope fluttering delicately in her chest. At least until she saw feathers.

Red feathers with white specks laying not too far from their owner. She rushed over to their body, falling to her knees when she reached them. Her shaky hand went to touch them, but recoiled at the cold feeling of their skin. Rips and holes in the singed fabric of their tunic allowed her to see how their body was covered in bullet wounds and stab wounds. The blood on their talons told her Nicholas hadn’t gone down without a fight. “I sh-sh-should have st-stayed.” She whispered, gently touching their cheek. This time her hand didn’t recoil from the cold feeling, instead she caressed their cheek. Maybe if she had stayed they could have fought and escaped together, despite what Nicholas thought. Guilt washed over her, along with the sadness and seeing them like this. Those feelings pushed out tears and she cried. She didn’t know how long she knelt there crying and remembering how much they had helped her and how happy she had been to see another Ziz. Despite the warm sun, Songbird felt cold. Nicholas’ words rang in her head, “Make it home for both of us.”

Something fell off to her left, startling her. Was it some burned wood collapsing? Maybe a survivor? Songbird didn’t want to find out. She wanted to do what Nicholas said. She wanted to make them proud and she wouldn’t do that by sitting there and crying, as much as she wanted to continue doing just that. She dried her tears and stood, feeling smaller and weaker than ever before.

“I’m h-h-h-hungry,” She whispered to herself, wondering if there was any edible food left. If she could gather enough to last a while, she could start on her way home.

“Songbird? That you?” A voice called from a stack of crates nearby.

Songbird nearly screamed, startled by the voice, but she couldn’t see who called her. At least not until they seemed to appear out of thin air by the crates where she heard the voice. “Alv-v-vin!” Songbird called, extremely happy to see the other “oddity”; a chameleon boy who could blend in with his surroundings.

“Songbird!” He cheered quietly in reply. They embraced, then Alvin pulled away, “Quiet, I don’t know if there’s any more of those weirdos around. I was about to see if I could gather some food, then leave.”

Songbird smiled at him shyly, “C-can we g-g-g-go t-tog-gether? I wan-n-n-nt to go ho-om-me.”

Alvin put a hand on her head and smiled, “Help me gather food and supplies and I’ll be glad to take you…”

She helped gather whatever he asked for, then they headed back into the woods, leaving behind the ashes of the circus. At the edge of the woods, Songbird gave one final look at where Nicholas lay, then turned around and left.

#ic drabble #Songbird #blood mention #death mention #:3c #Enjoy!#man #this is the longest thing I've ever written! the whole drabble not this part #I'm gonna try to get the epilogue out today as well!#hopefully I can do it #Three Rings of Fear

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networkingdefinition · 4 years

Text

Vietnam Quotes

Official Website: Vietnam Quotes

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• A country that has been through as much as Vietnam has to have some crazy music somewhere. – Henry Rollins • A first novel of astonishing force, craft and beauty, The Headmaster’s Wager conjures up a dizzyingly evocative wartime Saigon in the story of Percival Chen, a Chinese schoolmaster in Vietnam. This extraordinary book made me weep. Read it. – Janice Y. K. Lee • A great read; an exciting, frightening account of organized crime today. But like all important works of nonfiction, it goes further… This book is must reading for anyone with an interest in the enduring effects of the Vietnam War, the subject of crime in our streets, and the issue of personal responsibility in a harsh, chaotic world. – Le Ly Hayslip • A lot of people have warned President Clinton that Bosnia will turn into another Vietnam, which would be embarrassing for him because he’ll have to go back to college. – Bill Maher • A time comes when silence is betrayal. That time has come for us in relation to Vietnam. A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift, is approaching spiritual death.I knew that America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube. So I was increasingly compelled to see the war as an enemy of the poor. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • Above all, Vietnam was a war that asked everything of a few and nothing of most in America. – Myra MacPherson • After every major conflict – World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, the fall of the Soviet Union – what happened was that we ultimately hollowed out the force, largely by doing deep across-the-board cuts. – Leon Panetta • After four or five different wars, I grew weary of that work, partly because in an open war, open to coverage, as Vietnam was, it’s not that difficult, really. – Morley Safer • After the ’30s, we said, “no more Munichs.” And it got us in a lot of problems. Then we said, “No more Vietnams.” Now if we say, “No more Iraqs,” the next one won’t be an Iraq. It will be something different. You can’t learn lessons. – Brent Scowcroft • All the wrong people remember Vietnam. I think all the people who remember it should forget it, and all the people who forgot it should remember it. – Michael Herr • America has entered one of its periods of historical madness, but this is the worst I can remember: worse than McCarthyism, worse than the Bay of Pigs and in the long term potentially more disastrous than the Vietnam War. – John le Carre • America has made no reparation to the Vietnamese, nothing. We are the richest people in the world and they are among the poorest. We savaged them, though they had never hurt us, and we cannot find it in our hearts, our honor, to give them help-because the government of Vietnam is Communist. And perhaps because they won.- Martha Gellhorn • Any of these Vietnam vets that have been there and know the deal, they don’t feel that any Hollywood endeavor about the Vietnam era has ever gotten it right yet. – Sam Elliott • As I come to understand Vietnam and what it implies about the human condition, I also realize that few humans will permit themselves such an understanding. – Alan Moore

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Vietnam', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_vietnam').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_vietnam img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Back in the old Corp, we weren’t training those privates to infiltrate into the peacetime Marine Corp. We were training those privates to go to Vietnam. – R. Lee Ermey • Because the GIs were sent massively to South Vietnam, maybe it’s a good idea to have a broadcast for them. – Hanoi Hannah • Before the Civil War, Canada was at the top of the underground railroad. If you made it into Canada, you were safe unless someone came and hauled you back. That was also true during the Vietnam War for draft resisters. – Margaret Atwood • Before we put an American in harm’s way, tell us why. No one wants to see the region descend into further chaos. There’s a lot of concern about getting embroiled in another Vietnam and … about sending American troops once again to fight someone else’s war. – Xavier Becerra • Being in Vietnam changed him [Johnny Cash] fundamentally. He was devastated when we went into Iraq. – Rosanne Cash • Bill Klinton was the ultimate rock star as president. I don’t think as a result of his presidency we will ever have a rock star as president again. In the same way that we will never get involved in another Vietnam. – Joe Eszterhas • But although Australia was also involved in the Vietnam conflict, I can remember my dad telling us that if we were in Australia, we wouldn’t be drafted until we were 20. – Mel Gibson • But despite their heroic acts, the Vietnam Veterans of America continued to struggle to establish a combat badge in honor of these brave pilots and medics. – Tim Holden • By 1973, John Kerry had already accused American soldiers of committing war crimes in Vietnam, thrown someone else’s medals to the ground in an anti-war demonstration, and married his first heiress. – Ann Coulter • By the year 2025, 500 million people will die of smoking. Now, that’s a Vietnam War every day for 27 years. That’s the Titanic sinking every 27 minutes for 27 years. – C. Everett Koop • Charles Reich discredits reason because it has been used to justify the war in Vietnam, which is like deciding that because your mother has cooked you a few bad meals you must never eat again. – Molly Haskell • ‘Dare to Discipline’ was published in 1970 in the midst of the Vietnam War and a culture of rebellion. The book was written in that context, but the principles of child rearing have not changed. – James Dobson • Everybody respects the Vietnam Veterans of America. – R. Lee Ermey • Fathers are always so proud the first time they see their sons in uniform,” she said. “I know Big John Karpinski was,” I said. He is my neighbor to the north, of course. Big John’s son Little John did badly in high school, and the police caught him selling dope. So he joined the Army while the Vietnam War was going on. And the first time he came home in uniform, I never saw Big John so happy, because it looked to him as though Little John was all straightened out and would amount to something. But then Little John came home in a body bag. – Kurt Vonnegut • For my generation – the “Children of Nixon,” as I call us in the book – the Lebanese civil war was an iconic event. Downtown Beirut became a metaphor for so many things: man’s inhumanity to man, what Charles Bukowski called “the impossibility of being human.” It shaped our perceptions of war and human nature, just as Vietnam did for our parents. We used it to understand how the world works. – Annia Ciezadlo • Forty years ago this country went down a rabbit hole in Vietnam and millions died. I fear we’re going down a rabbit hole once again – and if people can stop and think and reflect on some of the ideas and issues in this movie, perhaps I’ve done some damn good here! – Errol Morris • From 1962 to 1965 the US was dedicated to try to prevent the independence of South Vietnam, the reason was of course that Kennedy and Johnson knew that if any political solution was permitted in the south, the National Liberation Front would effectively come to power, so strong was its political support in comparison with the political support of the so-called South Vietnamese government. – Noam Chomsky • Had there been a reporter along with Lieutenant Calley when he massacred those people in Vietnam, I think that probably wouldn’t have happened. – Bob Schieffer • Have you ever had any anger about President Bush – who spent his time during the Vietnam War in the National Guard – running, in effect, a campaign that does its best to diminish your service in Vietnam? You have to be at least irritated by that, or have you been? – Dan Rather • Helvetica is the font of the Vietnam War. – Paula Scher • Hollywood never knew there was a Vietnam War until they made the movie. – Jerry Stiller • How do you ask a man to be the last man to die in Vietnam? How do you ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake? – John F. Kerry • I always felt more emotionally attached to Cambodia than I did to Vietnam. – Ed Bradley • I am afraid if the present trend in Vietnam continues that direct confrontation, first of all between Washington and Peking, is inevitable. – U Thant • I am convinced that it is one of the most unjust wars that has ever been fought in the history of the world. Our involvement in the war in Vietnam has torn up the Geneva Accord. It has strengthened the military-industrial complex; it has strengthened the forces of reaction in our nation. It has put us against the self-determination of a vast majority of the Vietnamese people, and put us in the position of protecting a corrupt regime that is stacked against the poor. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • I believe the liberal international order is under assault from Russia, and from other authoritarian regimes, and it is being questioned from within the West by nationalists, by nativists, and by people who doubt our – doubt the values of the West. We’ve gone through periods like this before; in the ’70s, after Vietnam and Watergate, and certainly in the ’30s, when people thought liberal democracy was dead, and the future belonged either to the fascists or the communists. – Daniel Fried • I could have ended the war in a month. I could have made North Vietnam look like a mud puddle. – Barry Goldwater • I couldn’t be happier that President Bush has stood up for having served in the National Guard, because I can finally put an end to all those who questioned my motives for enlisting in the Army Reserve at the height of the Vietnam War. – Larry David • I deliberately did not read anything about the Vietnam War because I felt the politics of the war eclipsed what happened to the veterans. The politics were irrelevant to what this memorial was. – Maya Lin • I didn’t like anti-Vietnam War art. I didn’t like feminist art. I thought it was heavy-handed and stupid – as art. – Robert Barry • I do not believe that the men who served in uniform in Vietnam have been given the credit they deserve. It was a difficult war against an unorthodox enemy. – William Westmoreland • I flew in combat in Vietnam. I got shot at, I shot back, I got shot down. Compared to this flight, I felt a lot safer in combat. – Dick Rutan • I get very sad when I think about Vietnam where there seems to be no choice but violence. This violence goes on for centuries perpetuating itself. – Yoko Ono • I had been in that part of the world as a soldier in Korea, so I had been interested in Vietnam. – Michael Caine • I knew that America would never invest the necessary funds of energies in rehabilitation of its poor as long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • I like automatic weapons. I fought for my right to use them in Vietnam. – Oliver Stone • I oppose the war in Vietnam because I love America. I speak out against it not in anger but with anxiety and sorrow in my heart, and above all with a passionate desire to see our beloved country stand as a moral example of the world. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • I predict you will sink step by step into a bottomless quagmire, however much you spend in men and money.” (On Vietnam War) – Charles de Gaulle • I said to the president’s wife, Vietnam is the main reason we are having trouble with the youth of America. It is a war without explanation or reason. – Eartha Kitt • I saw a man walk into my camera viewfinder from the left. He took a pistol out of his holster and raised it. I had no idea he would shoot. It was common to hold a pistol to the head of prisoners during questioning. So I prepared to make that picture – the threat, the interrogation. But it didn’t happen. The man just pulled a pistol out of his holster, raised it to the VC’s head and shot him in the temple. I made a picture at the same time. (On his 1968 photograph of the summary street corner execution of prisoner Nguyen Van Lem by South Vietnam’s police chief, Lt. Col. Nguyen Ngoc Loan.) – Eddie Adams • I saw courage both in the Vietnam War and in the struggle to stop it. I learned that patriotism includes protest, not just military service. – John F. Kerry • I served two tours of duty in Vietnam. I won the Bronze Star. I won the Purple Heart. – Ron Kovic • I think most of us secretly know – and those of us at the radical middle are inclined to say – that without such concepts as duty and honor and service, no civilization can endure. … I suspect most Americans would respond positively to a [draft] if it gives us some choice in how to exercise that duty and service. … Exactly the kind of choice my generation did not have during the Vietnam War. – Mark Satin • I think we can end the divisions within the United States. What I think is quite clear is that we can work together in the last analysis. And that what has been going on with the United States over the period of that last three years, the divisions, the violence, the disenchantment with our society, the divisions – whether it’s between blacks and whites, between the poor and the more affluent, or between age groups, or in the war in Vietnam – that we can work together. We are a great country, an unselfish country and a compassionate country. And I intend to make that my basis for running. – Robert Kennedy • I think we fought Vietnam for the benefits of civilization, and certainly we fought it to oppose authority. To show our authority, to show we weren’t weak. Isn’t that what Nixon kept saying? “We have to show the world that we’re not weak.” So of course what we ended up showing the world was that we were, yep, weak. ‘Cause we couldn’t beat these kids in black pajamas. – Stephen King • I thought the Vietnam war was an utter, unmitigated disaster, so it was very hard for me to say anything good about it. – George McGovern • I try to express with the camera what the story is, to get to the heart of the story with picture. In battle I look at things first in terms of people, second in terms of strategies or casualties… To tell a story, you don’t photograph one hundred dead civilians to prove there were one hundred dead civilians. You photograph one dead civilian with an expression on his face that says, This is what it’s like if you’re a dead civilian in Vietnam. – Horst Faas • I used to love going into local hardware stores, to look at little things they made locally. Nowadays it’s harder, though you can still do it in Vietnam. – Francis Ford Coppola • I want to make sure that the Coast Guard people in Vietnam know that I am hearing about them often and that I am pleased with what I hear. – Wallace M. Greene • I was arrested 1965. I had come back from the merchant marines, got into conversations about the war. I had never heard of Vietnam until I was in the merchant marines in constitution square in Athens, and I picked up the New York Herald or the International Herald Tribune and there was my first introduction of the word Vietnam. – Bill Ayers • I was caught up in the hysteria during the Vietnam era, which was brought about through Marxist propaganda underlying the so-called peace movement. – Jon Voight • I was getting money for showing one man killing another. Two lives were destroyed and I was getting paid for it. (On his 1968 photograph of the summary street corner execution of prisoner Nguyen Van Lem by South Vietnam’s police chief, Lt. Col. Nguyen Ngoc Loan.) – Eddie Adams • I was proud of the youths who opposed the war in Vietnam because they were my babies.- Benjamin Spock • I was so opposed to the war in Vietnam that I initially refused President Nixon’s urgings for me to go there. – Sammy Davis, Jr. • I was the guy who was constantly speaking out against the Vietnam War. I have no regrets about that.- George McGovern • I was too young for Korea and too old for Vietnam. – Stephen Ambrose • I was very much a child of the 1960s. I protested the Vietnam War and grew up in a fairly politicized home. My father was like a cross between William Kunstler and Zorba the Greek. I grew up among left-wing lawyers. – Marianne Williamson • I wasn’t for Vietnam. When I told that to the hippie newspaper, all my people got nervous. – Loretta Lynn • I went to Vietnam; it was my first assignment as a reporter for the UPI, and I never could get away from the war. – Neil Sheehan • I would like to say something, not just to Vietnam veterans in New England, but to men who were in Vietnam, who I hurt, or whose pain I caused to deepen because of the things that I said or did. I was trying to help end the killing and the war, but there were times when I was thoughtless and careless about it and I’m…very sorry that I hurt them. And I want to apologize to them and their families. – Jane Fonda • I would not trade you a billion dollars for the kids I led to combat in Vietnam or in fact any of the Marines that I served with for a quarter of a century. – Oliver North • If America’s soul becomes totally poisoned, part of the autopsy must read Vietnam. It can never be saved so long as it destroys the hopes of men the world over. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • If John McCain were really a war hero he would’ve won Vietnam. – Zach Braff • If people become ecstatic the whole society will have to change, because this society is based on misery. If people are blissful you cannot lead them to war — to Vietnam, or to Egypt, or to Israel. No. Someone who is blissful will just laugh and say: This is nonsense! – Rajneesh • If Recep Tayyip Erdogan cannot placate ISIS, how are we ever gonna be able to? And placate is clearly what John Kerry, who once served in Vietnam, and Barack Hussein O and Hillary Clinton think is the only thing we have to do is placate them. Because we’re at fault, see. – Rush Limbaugh • If there really had been a Mercutio, and if there really were a Paradise, Mercutio might be hanging out with teenage Vietnam draftee casualties now, talking about what it felt like to die for other people’s vanity and foolishness. – Kurt Vonnegut • If we quit Vietnam, tomorrow we’ll be fighting in Hawaii, and next week we’ll have to fight in San Francisco. – Lyndon B. Johnson • If we were not in Vietnam, all that part of the world would be enjoying the obscurity it so richly deserves. – John Kenneth Galbraith • If you get a President (Hillary) Clinton, you might well find, just as after Vietnam, that there is a retraction from Iraq and of American influence in the world. And in a couple of years the Europeans will be complaining about that too. – John Bolton • If you look at China – and frankly, Vietnam now is doing a big number, and you look at Japan and India and Mexico – Mexico’s killing us at the border and they’re killing us with trade. – Donald Trump • If you run an Internet search on Vietnam and the war, most of the information you get begins at about 1962. I think this is telling. It is missing the whole period that led up to the reasons the war happened in the first place. – Brendan Fraser • I’ll always have the memories of guys I lost in Vietnam. And I’ve lost friends since the war, but I’ll always have the memories. The riches are great, but riches aren’t everything, because when you go you can only take your memories and your word and your honor to the grave with you. – Michael E. Thornton • I’ll tell you what I really think about politicians. The other night I watched some politicians on television talking about Vietnam. I wanted very much to burst through the screen with a flame thrower and burn their eyes out and their balls off and then inquire from them how they would assess the action from a political point of view. – Harold Pinter • I’m not going to say I was opposed to the Vietnam War. I’m going to say I’m opposed to war. But I’m also opposed to protests that deny other people their rights. – John Wooden • I’m not so sure that people consider homelessness to be as important as, say, the Vietnam War. One should never even try to equate them because, of course, they’re tragedies on both sides of the coin. – Graham Nash • I’m old enough to remember John Kennedy sending a few advisers into Vietnam. I’m very worried we’ll get in and we’ll get mired down in something we don’t have any idea what to do [with]. – Jim McDermott • In 1961, the United States began chemical warfare in Vietnam, South Vietnam, chemical warfare to destroy crops and livestock. That went on for seven years. The level of poison – they used the most extreme carcinogen known: dioxin. And this went on for years. – Noam Chomsky • In F-111, I question the collusion between the Vietnam War, income taxes, consumerism, and advertising. – James Rosen • In revealing the workings of government that led to the Vietnam War, the newspapers nobly did precisely that which the Founders hoped and trusted they would do. – Hugo Black • In the 1960s, there was a point, 1968, ’69, when there was a very strong antiwar movement against the war in Vietnam. But it’s worth remembering that the war in Vietnam started – an outright war started in 1962. – Noam Chomsky • In the ’60s we fought for peace, when the Vietnam war was on. We were against the cops and against the politicians, and there was a lot of waving banners and all that. And I think in a way, just as they were enjoying that machoism of war, we were enjoying the machismo of being anti-war, you know? – Yoko Ono • Iraq was a war of choice, like Vietnam. – Chuck Hagel • It doesn t require any particular bravery to stand on the floor of the Senate and urge our boys in Vietnam to fight harder and if this war mushrooms into a major conflict and a hundred thousand young Americans are killed it won t be U.S. Senators who die. It will be American soldiers who are too young to qualify for the Senate. – George McGovern • It is a fact that the Left routinely resists, then as now: Americans fought and died in Vietnam for freedom, just as they are doing in Iraq and Afghanistan today. Whatever mistakes generals and policymakers have made along the way cannot detract from that essential truth – which should be a part of any reliable history. – Arthur L. Herman • It is unconscionable that 10,000 boys have died in Vietnam. If 10,000 American women had mind enough they could end the war, if they were committed to the task, even if it meant going to jail. – Jeannette Rankin • It might interest you that just as the U.S. was ramping up its involvement in Vietnam, LBJ launched an illegal invasion of the Dominican Republic (April 28, 1965). (Santo Domingo was Iraq before Iraq was Iraq.) – Junot Diaz • It seems now more certain than ever that the bloody experience of Vietnam is to end in a stalemate. – Walter Cronkite • It was a tough press conference for President Bush. He spent the first ten minutes trying to pronounce Fallujah. … Bush insisted that Iraq is not Vietnam. Of course not, he avoided Vietnam. – David Letterman • It was not my desire to go off and serve in Vietnam. – Mitt Romney • It would be good for the workers in Vietnam even as it helps make sure that they’re not undercutting competition here in the United States. – Barack Obama • It would take 2,000 Vietnam Memorials to list the [Twentieth] century’s war dead. – Kim Stanley • It’s a weird scene. You win a few baseball games and all of a sudden you’re surrounded by reporters and TV men with cameras asking you about Vietnam and race relations. – Vida Blue • It’s silly talking about how many years we will have to spend in the jungles of Vietnam when we could pave the whole country and put parking stripes on it and still be home by Christmas. – Ronald Reagan • It’s very common to say that Star Wars in the late ’70s, that was kind of perfect for Cold War culture and the aftermath of Vietnam in the ’60s to have an upbeat, hopeful, cartoonish tale of a hero’s journey. I think those explanations are easy to offer and almost always wrong. – Cass Sunstein

• John Kerry gave the enemy for free what I and many of my comrades in North Vietnam in the prison camps took torture to avoid saying. – Paul Galanti • Let us put an end to self-inflicted wounds. Let us remember that our national unity is a most priceless asset. Let us deny our adversaries the satisfaction of using Vietnam to pit Americans against Americans. – Gerald R. Ford • Let us understand: North Vietnam cannot defeat or humiliate the United States. Only Americans can do that. – Richard M. Nixon • Many of the architects of the Vietnam War became near pariahs as they spent the remainder of their lives in the futile quest to explain away their decisions at the time. – Graydon Carter • Militarily, we succeeded in Vietnam. We won every engagement we were involved in out there. – William Westmoreland • Moms and daughters can negotiate over anything, and they can go on longer than it took to settle the Vietnam War. – Steve Schirripa • Money, as a sort of drug, has become a great danger to our development. There will be no progress in our country unless we win the fight against corruption. This is a question of survival for the Communist Party of Vietnam and for socialism. – Nguyen Minh Triet • Most of us who were opposed to the war, especially in the early ’60’s – the war we were opposed to was the war on South Vietnam which destroyed South Vietnam’s rural society. The South was devastated. But now anyone who opposed this atrocity is regarded as having defended North Vietnam. And that’s part of the effort to present the war as if it were a war between South Vietnam and North Vietnam with the United States helping the South. Of course it’s fabrication. But it’s “official truth” now. – Noam Chomsky • My dad [Johnny Cash] went to the [Richard] Nixon White House and refused to sing “Welfare Cadillac” (instead performing the anti-war songs “The Ballad of Ira Hayes” and “Man in Black”). He protested the Vietnam War, but he went to perform for the troops with bombs dropping all around him. He had that kind of genius: a true artist’s capacity for holding two opposing thoughts at once while being large enough to encompass all realities. – Rosanne Cash • My father had gone to Vietnam. – Elizabeth Edwards • My film is not a movie; it’s not about Vietnam. It is Vietnam. – Francis Ford Coppola • My shoulders sagged. Really, is it too much to ask that I be able to come home from a long day of work and relax? Oh, no. I have to come home and read a bunch of letters written to the love of my life by his fiancée, who, if I am correct, had him killed a hundred and fifty years ago. Then, as if that is not bad enough, he wants me to explain the Vietnam War. – Meg Cabot • My solution to the problem would be to tell [the North Vietnamese Communists] frankly that they’ve got to draw in their horns and stop their aggression or we’re going to bomb them into the Stone Age. And we would shove them back into the Stone Age with Air power or Naval power – not with ground forces. – Curtis LeMay • News footage came on the TV during dinner of bloody bodies coming back from battle in Vietnam, or the race riots in the South, people getting hosed in Selma, Alabama, or the Biafra war, where I got my name. In my household, it was explained and discussed with the children, as a way of educating us from when we first started grade school why racism and war were wrong, what this all really means. – Jello Biafra • Ninety-five percent of women’s experiences are about being a victim. Or about being an underdog, or having to survive… women didn’t go to Vietnam and blow things up. They are not Rambo. – Jodie Foster • No event in American history is more misunderstood than the Vietnam War. It was misreported then, and it is misremembered now. – Richard M. Nixon • Now we have a problem in making our power credible, and Vietnam is the place. – John F. Kennedy • Nuclear power will be the Vietnam issue of the 1980s. – Jerry Brown • Numbers have dehumanized us. Over breakfast coffee we read of 40,000 American dead in Vietnam. Instead of vomiting, we reach for the toast. Our morning rush through crowded streets is not to cry murder but to hit that trough before somebody else gobbles our share. – Dalton Trumbo • Obviously all of us have thought about Vietnam, particularly in my generation in Australia that were part of conscription and fought there. Our friends came back, forever changed. So there were a lot of questions. – Phillip Noyce • On my discharge, I had the challenge of putting my life back together but Vietnam stuck in the inner recesses of my mind. – Doug Rice • On the Vietnam War: I’ve lived under situations where every decent man declared war first and I’ve lived under situations where you don’t declare war. We’ve been flexible enough to kill people without declaring war. – Lewis Blaine Hershey • One of the good things about the way the Gulf War ended in 1991 is, you’d see the Vietnam veterans marching with the Gulf War veterans. – George H. W. Bush • One of the greatest casualties of the war in Vietnam is the Great Society… shot down on the battlefield of Vietnam. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • One of the lessons learned during the Vietnam War was that the depiction of wounded soldiers, of coffins stacked higher than their living guards, had a negative effect on the viewing public. The military in Iraq specifically banned the photographing of wounded soldiers and coffins, thus sanitizing this terrible and bloody conflict. – Walter Dean Myers • One of the sharp parallels is that neither Vietnam nor Iraq was the slightest threat to America’s national security. – George McGovern • One-hundred facts about Vietnam and we studied the fact sheet and got in to these arguments and it was fantastic, and I remember one moment when we heard two students saying don’t talk to those guys, meaning my brother and me. They’ve just memorized that stupid fact sheet. And we thought, gosh do we sound that good? It didn’t seem possible. But that was my introduction to politics. – Bill Ayers • Our numbers have increased in Vietnam because the aggression of others has increased in Vietnam. There is not, and there will not be, a mindless escalation. – Lyndon B. Johnson • Our objective in South Vietnam has never been the annihilation of the enemy. It has been to bring about a recognition in Hanoi that its objective – taking over the South by force – could not be achieved. – Lyndon B. Johnson • Our purpose in Vietnam is to prevent the success of aggression. It is not conquest, it is not empire, it is not foreign bases, it is not domination. It is, simply put, just to prevent the forceful conquest of South Vietnam by North Vietnam. – Lyndon B. Johnson • Our young men in Vietnam have not only acquitted themselves in an outstanding manner during combat operations, but they also have been outstanding ambassadors of goodwill in the vital civic action and pacification work among the tortured populace of South Vietnam. – Lewis William Walt • Philadelphia reflected the national turmoil over race and the Vietnam War, often exploding on my watch. – Andrea Mitchell • President Bush is not fazed by other candidates’ war records. He said, I may have not fought in Vietnam, but I created one. – Craig Kilborn • President Bush’s campaign is now attacking John Kerry for throwing away some of his medals to protest the Vietnam War. Bush did not have any medals to throw away, but in his defense he did have all his services records thrown out. – Jay Leno • President Johnson did not want the Vietnam War to broaden. He wanted the North Vietnamese to leave their brothers in the South alone. – William Westmoreland • Regret what? That secret operation was an excellent idea. It had the effect of drawing the Russians into the Afghan trap and you want me to regret it? The day that the Soviets officially crossed the border, I wrote to President Carter. We now have the opportunity of giving to the USSR its Vietnam war. Indeed, for almost 10 years, Moscow had to carry on a war unsupportable by the government, a conflict that brought about the demoralization and finally the breakup of the Soviet empire. – Zbigniew Brzezinski • Rising sea levels will result in tens to hundreds of millions more people flooded each year with a warming of 3 or 4°C. There will be serious risks and increasing pressures for coastal protection in South East Asia (Bangladesh and Vietnam), small islands in the Caribbean and the Pacific, and large coastal cities, such as Tokyo, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Mumbai, Calcutta, Karachi, Buenos Aires, St. Petersburg, New York, Miami and London. – Nicholas Stern • Robert Capa: He was a good friend and a great and very brave photographer. It is bad luck for everybody that the percentages caught up with him. It is especially bad for Capa. (On Capa’s death in Vietnam, May, 27, 1954) – Ernest Hemingway • Since There are so many questions about what the president was doing over 30 years ago, what is it that he did after his honorable discharge from the National Guard? Did he make speeches alongside Jane Fonda denouncing America’s racist war in Vietnam? – Jeff Gannon • So much of my work involved the Vietnam War that it would have been obscene to show it in a gallery. But now, it’s different; it’s important to remember and to enable the young to discover what to some of us is still so present. – Martha Rosler • So one important lesson of Vietnam is, the first casualty of an unwise and unjust war are the American troops called on to fight it. Their service should be honored. – Paul Begala • Some 30 years later I found myself back here again [in Vietnam] on what was to be a short visit that lasted months, and since then I’ve been living my life with one foot in Ho Chi Minh City and the other in Fair Oaks, California. – Doug Rice • Some of the critics viewed Vietnam as a morality play in which the wicked must be punished before the final curtain and where any attempt to salvage self-respect from the outcome compounded the wrong. I viewed it as a genuine tragedy. No one had a monopoly on anguish. – Henry A. Kissinger • Some people just wanted to blow it all to hell, animal, vegetable and mineral. They wanted a Vietnam they could fit into their car ashtrays. – Michael Herr • Somehow this madness must cease. We must stop now. I speak as a child of God and brother to the suffering poor of Vietnam. I speak for those whose land is being laid waste, whose homes are being destroyed, whose culture is being subverted. I speak for the poor in America who are paying the double price of smashed hopes at home and death and corruption in Vietnam. I speak as a citizen of the world, for the world as it stands aghast at the path we have taken. I speak as an American to the leaders of my own nation. The great initiative in this war is ours. The initiative to stop it must be ours. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • Suicidal violence is not the exclusive property of the Muslim world. Suicide bombings were a tactic of nationalist struggles in 19th-century Europe and Russia, the far east during the second world war and the Vietnam war, and in modern Sri Lanka. – James Buchan • Sure Vietnam is a dirty war. I’ve never heard of a clean one. – Bob Hope • Television brought the brutality of war into the comfort of the living room. Vietnam was lost in the living rooms of America – not on the battlefields of Vietnam. – Marshall McLuhan • Thank you for the sacrifices you and your families are making. Our Vietnam Veterans have taught us that no matter what are positions may be on policy, as Americans and patriots, we must support all of our soldiers with our thoughts and our prayers. – Zach Wamp • The American claim that the bombing of North Vietnam was directed against military targets does not withstand direct investigation. – Noam Chomsky • The American Dream has run out of gas. The car has stopped. It no longer supplies the world with its images, its dreams, its fantasies. No more. It’s over. It supplies the world with its nightmares now: the Kennedy assassination, Watergate, Vietnam. – J. G. Ballard • The American people today are involved in a warfare more deadly than the war in Vietnam, but few of them seem aware of it and even fewer of them are doing anything about it. This is a war that is being waged against the American environment, against our lands, air, and water, which are the basis of that environment. – Norman Cousins • The biggest lesson I learned from Vietnam is not to trust [our own] government statements. – J. William Fulbright • The bombs in Vietnam explode at home; they destroy the hopes and possibilities for a decent America. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • The boys that were running away from America because they didn’t want to get involved with the Vietnam War had come to me. They would tell me how they felt. – Eartha Kitt • The brave men who died in Vietnam, more than 100% of which were black, were the ultimate sacrifice. – Marion Barry • The Contessa was surely way ahead of her time, too, in believing that men were not only usless and idiotic, but downright dangerous. That idea wouldn’t catch on big in her native country until the last three years of the Vietnam War. – Kurt Vonnegut • The future is now! Soon every American home will integrate their television, phone and computer. You’ll be able to visit the Louvre on one channel, or watch female wrestling on another. You can do your shopping at home, or play Mortal Kombat with a friend from Vietnam. There’s no end to the possibilities! – Jim Carrey • The hardest thing for me in Vietnam wasn’t seeing the wounded and dead. It was watching the big transport jets come in, bringing loads of fresh new boys for the war. – Johnny Cash • The industrial way of life leads to the industrial way of death. From Shiloh to Dachau, from Antietam to Stalingrad, from Hiroshima to Vietnam and Afghanistan, the great specialty of industry and technology has been the mass production of human corpses. – Edward Abbey • The International Control Commission isn’t doing anything, it’s never done anything. What good does it do to be on it or not? Before opening the embassy in Hanoi, I gave it a lot of thought, but it wasn’t really a painful decision. American policy in Vietnam is what it is, in Saigon the situation is anything but normal, and I’m happy to have done what I did. – Indira Gandhi • The lessons I learned in Vietnam and in the NFL reinforced one another: teamwork, sacrifice, responsibility, accountability, and leadership. – Rocky Bleier • The only important lesson from the Vietnam War is this: Democrats lose wars. – Ann Coulter • The Quiet American is anti the people who took them into the Vietnam War. – Michael Caine • The race for the White House should be about leadership, and leadership requires that one help heal the wounds of Vietnam, not reopen them. – John F. Kerry • The same people that are with me for not going to Vietnam because I saved them and their children.The same people will give me hell if I turn to them and say, ‘let’s free my people now’.They’re with me on one part of my beliefs about the war, that’s all. Not for my freedom. – Muhammad Ali • The TPP is another corporate-backed agreement that is the latest in a series of trade policies which have cost us millions of decent-paying jobs, pushed down wages for American workers and led to the decline of our middle class. We want American companies to create decent-paying jobs in America, not just low-wage countries like Vietnam, Malaysia or China. The TPP must be defeated. – Bernie Sanders • The truth is that I oppose the Iraq war, just as I opposed the Vietnam War, because these two conflicts have weakened the U.S. and diminished our standing in the world and our national security. – George McGovern • The U.S. directed the war against South Vietnam. There was a political settlement in 1954. But in the late ’50’s the United States organized an internal repression in South Vietnam, not using its troops, but using the local apparatus it was constructing. This was a very significant and very effective campaign of violence and terrorism against the Vietminh – which was the communist-led nationalist force that fought the French. And the Vietminh at that time was adhering to the Geneva Accords, hoping that the political settlement would work out in South Vietnam. – Noam Chomsky • The United States can certainly defeat North Vietnam, but the United States cannot defeat a guerrilla war which is being raged from a sanctuary through a pattern of penetration, intervention, evasion, which is very difficult for a technologically advanced country like the United States to combat. – Zbigniew Brzezinski • The United States must keep a low profile in Vietnam so we can negotiate its neutralization like we did in Laos . – Roger Hilsman • The Vietnam memorial is a masterpiece. The names of the dead are listed there, chronologically. Just the names. – William Westmoreland • The Vietnam War required us to emphasize the national interest rather than abstract principles. What President Nixon and I tried to do was unnatural. And that is why we didn’t make it. – Henry A. Kissinger • The Vietnamese people deeply love independence, freedom and peace. But in the face of United States aggression they have risen up, united as one man. – Ho Chi Minh • The violence of the Left is symbolic, the injuries are not intended. The violence of the Right is real – directed at people, designed to cause injuries. Vietnam, nuclear weapons, police out of control are intentional forms of violence. The violence from the Right is aimed directly at people and the violence from the Left is aimed at institutions and symbols. – George Carlin • The war against Vietnam is only the ghastliest manifestation of what I’d call imperial provincialism, which afflicts America’s whole culture-aware only of its own history, insensible to everything which isn’t part of the local atmosphere.- Stephen Vizinczey • The war in Vietnam I thought a dreadful mistake.- Stephen Ambrose • The war in vietnam threatened to tear our society apart, and the political and philosophical disagreements that separated each side continue, to some extent. It’s been said that these memorials reflect a hunger for healing. – Ronald Reagan • The war on drugs was never meant to be won. Instead, it will be prolonged as long as possible in order to allow various intelligence operations to wring the last few hundreds of millions of dollars in illicit profits from the global drug scam; then defeat will have to be declared. “Defeat” will mean, as it did in the case of the Vietnam War, that the media will correctly portray the true dimensions of the situation and the real players, and that public revulsion at the culpability, stupidity and venality of the Establishment’s role will force a policy review. – Terence McKenna • The worst nightmare I ever had about Vietnam was that I had to go back. I woke up in a sweat, in total terror. – Oliver Stone • There are some similarities, of course (between Iraq and Vietnam). Death is terrible. – George W. Bush • There are two types of courage involved with what I did. When it comes to picking up a rifle, millions of people are capable of doing that, as we see in Iraq or Vietnam. But when it comes to risking their careers, or risking being invited to lunch by the establishment, it turns out that’s remarkably rare. – Daniel Ellsberg • There’s just no question that the United States was trying desperately to prevent the independence of South Vietnam and to prevent a political settlement inside South Vietnam. And in fact it went to war precisely to prevent that. It finally bombed the North in 1965 with the purpose of trying to get the North to use its influence to call off the insurgency in the South. – Noam Chomsky • These men were wrongfully rejected, the veterans. The fighting man should never have been blamed for Vietnam. – Neil Sheehan • They told me if I voted for Goldwater, he would get us into a war in Vietnam. Well, I voted for Goldwater and that’s what happened. – William F. Buckley, Jr. • This Memorial Day should remind us of the greatness that past generations of Americans achieved from Valley Forge to Vietnam, and it should inspire us with the determination to keep America great and free by keeping America safe and strong in our own time, a time of unique destiny and opportunity for our Nation. – Richard M. Nixon • This nation should be less worried about putting the Vietnam syndrome behind us than restarting the World War II victory syndrome that resulted in the Vietnam syndrome in the first place. – Karl Marlantes • This war in Vietnam is, I believe, a war for civilization. Certainly it is not a war of our seeking. It is a war thrust upon us and we cannot yield to tyranny. – Francis Spellman • Tim O’Brien’s book about Vietnam, The Things They Carried, has won every award, is studied in college and is considered to be definitive. But it’s fiction. – Dave Eggers • To me, Columbine is just as awful as Vietnam and it’s just as awful as anything else. – Marilyn Manson • Today, America can regain the sense of pride that existed before Vietnam… These events, tragic as they are, portend neither the end of the world nor of America’s leadership in the world. – Gerald R. Ford • Vietnam is a jungle. You had jungle warfare. Kuwait, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, you have sand. [There is no need to worry about a protracted war because] from a historical basis, Middle East conflicts do not last a long time. – Dan Quayle • Vietnam presumably taught us that the United States could not serve as the world’s policeman; it should also have taught us the dangers of trying to be the world’s midwife to democracy when the birth is scheduled to take place under conditions of guerrilla war. – Jeane Kirkpatrick • Vietnam was a country where America was trying to make people stop being communists by dropping things on them from airplanes. – Kurt Vonnegut • Vietnam was as much a laboratory experiment as a war. – John Pilger • Vietnam was really an idealistic thing to stop the spread of communism, which, incidentally, it did. It was a pretty costly way to do it, but it achieved its goal. – Tom Wolfe • Vietnam was what we had instead of happy childhoods. – Michael Herr • Vietnam, me love you long time. All day, all night, me love you long time. (…) Dropping acid on the Mekong Delta, smoking grass through a rifle barrel, flying on a helicopter with opera blasting out of loudspeakers, tracer-fire and paddy-field scenery, the smell of napalm in the morning. Long time. – Alex Garland • Vietnam, we take over by doing pedicure! That’s how we take over. We take over one foot at a time, damn it – that’s the plan of attack right there. We take over from the toe up, that’s the plan. We spread over USA like fungus from the toe. – Dat Phan • Watergate enabled the Democrats to cut off all aid to South Vietnam and ensure American defeat in a war their party entered and had effectively lost, before Nixon salvaged a non-Communist South Vietnam while effecting a complete American withdrawal. – Conrad Black • We are not a warlike people. Nor is our history filled with tales of aggressive adventures and imperialism, which might come as a shock to some of the placard painters in our modern demonstrations. The lesson of Vietnam, I think, should be that never again will young Americans be asked to fight and possibly die for a cause unless that cause is so meaningful that we, as a nation, pledge our full resources to achieve victory as quickly as possible. – Ronald Reagan • We do not need more division. We certainly do not need something as complex and emotional as Vietnam reduced to simple campaign rhetoric. – John F. Kerry • We ended the war in Vietnam, and brought the troops home. – Jill Stein • We have forgotten that Vietnam, and Iraq resent being invaded and know the ground better than we do. – Wendell Berry • We managed to put together a compilation that had some creativity to it. In the meantime I was listening to the free radio stations and I noticed that during their war coverage they were playing these songs born out of the Vietnam War that were all critical of the soldiers. – Joni Mitchell • We must move past indecision to action. We must find new ways to speak for peace in Vietnam and for justice throughout the developing world, a world that borders on our doors. If we do not act, we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight. – Martin Luther King, Jr. • We seem bent upon saving the Vietnamese from Ho Chi Minh, even if we have to kill them and demolish their country to do it….I do not intend to remain silent in the face of what I regard as a policy of madness which, sooner or later, will envelop my son and American youth by the millions for years to come. – George McGovern • We went to America a few times and [Brian] Epstein always tried to waffle on at us about saying nothing about Vietnam. So there came a time when George [Harrison] and I said ‘Listen, when they ask next time, we’re going to say we don’t like that war and we think they should get right out.’ That’s what we did. – John Lennon • We were sent to Vietnam to kill Communism. But we found instead that we were killing women and children. – John F. Kerry • We were very excited and we brought speakers in then it so happened that there was a marine recruiter in the center of campus and one of our brothers, one SDS person put up a sign with a quote from the Nuremberg trial and an arrow point at the marine recruiter, saying, “This man is a war criminal.” My younger brother and I, he was freshman and I was a sophomore, got caught up in the debates that were swirling around the center of campus and the young Trotskyists had put out a fact sheet on Vietnam that was phenomenal. – Bill Ayers • We will continue to ignore political and economic forecasts, which are an expensive distraction for many investors and businessmen. Thirty years ago, no one could have foreseen the huge expansion of the Vietnam War, wage and price controls, two oil shocks, the resignation of a president, the dissolution of the Soviet Union, a one-day drop in the Dow of 508 points, or treasury bill yields fluctuating between 2.8% and 17.4%. – Warren Buffett • Well, look at what people are doing for returned veterans now. The wounded warriors. They’re working hard to make the wounded veterans feel that they are loved and welcomed home, unlike Vietnam. It was not a very kind, gentle world then. I think we are kinder and gentler. – Barbara Bush • What happened in the following years? Well, I think that among the educated classes it stayed the same. You talk about humanitarian intervention, it’s like Vietnam was a humanitarian intervention. Among the public, it’s quite different. – Noam Chomsky • What really happened in Vietnam was- all these things are away games for the American military. We’re not on our home turf, which means to succeed there has to be a partner. And the definition of partnership is someone willing to risk their lives in their home area to prevail because they think it’s necessary to build a decent life and a better life for their people. – William J. Clinton • What we do with this peace-whether we preserve it and defend it, or whether we lose it and let it slip away-will be the measure of our worthiness of the spirit and sacrifice of the hundreds of thousands who gave their lives in two World Wars, Korea, and in Vietnam. – Richard M. Nixon • When I grew up, in Taiwan, the Korean War was seen as a good war, where America protected Asia. It was sort of an extension of World War II. And it was, of course, the peak of the Cold War. People in Taiwan were generally proAmerican. The Korean War made Japan. And then the Vietnam War made Taiwan. There is some truth to that. – Ang Lee • When I was building the Vietnam Memorial, I never once asked the veterans what it was like in the war, because from my point of view, you don’t pry into other people’s business. – Maya Lin • When the soldiers came home from Vietnam, there were no parades, no celebrations. So they built the Vietnam Memorial for themselves. – William Westmoreland • When the United States fought in Vietnam, it was organized modern technology versus organized human beings, and the human beings won. – Howard Zinn • When the women’s liberation movement began, when people began protesting against the Vietnam War, civil rights movement, at the beginning of those movements, the majority of the country was not with them, did not believe in the basic principles of any of those philosophies. – Michael Moore • When was the last time the United States won a war? You know, it lost in Vietnam. It’s lost in Afghanistan. It’s lost in Iraq. And it will not be able to contain the situation. It is hemorrhaging. It is now – you know, of course you can continue with drone attacks, and you can continue these targeted killings, but on the ground, a situation is being created which no army – not America, not anybody – can control. And it’s just, you know, a combination of such foolishness, such a lack of understanding of culture in the world. – Arundhati Roy • Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights? – Muhammad Ali • Why was the United States so afraid of an independent South Vietnam? Well, I think the reason again is pretty clear from the internal government documents. Precisely what they were afraid of was that the “takeover” of South Vietnam by nationalist forces would not be brutal. They feared it would be conciliatory and that there would be successful social and economic development – and that the whole region might work. – Noam Chomsky • With 450,000 U. S. troops now in Vietnam, it is time that Congress decided whether or not to declare a state of war exists with North Vietnam. Previous congressional resolutions of support provide only limited authority. Although Congress may decide that the previously approved resolution on Vietnam given President Johnson is sufficient, the issue of a declaration of war should at least be put before the Congress for decision. – Dwight D. Eisenhower • With respect to where we are now, we have a voluntary army. And if we ever go back to conscription I hope that at time it will be the kind of conscription that was put in at the end of the Vietnam War. And that is, everybody is equally liable to be called to serve the nation in time of conflict. – Colin Powell • With the Black Company series Glen Cook single-handedly changed the face of fantasy—something a lot of people didn’t notice and maybe still don’t. He brought the story down to a human level, dispensing with the cliché archetypes of princes, kings, and evil sorcerers. Reading his stuff was like reading Vietnam War fiction on peyote. – Steven Erikson • Within the soul of each Vietnam veteran there is probably something that says “Bad war, good soldier.” Only now are Americans beginning to separate the war from the warrior. – Max Cleland • You don’t attack the grunts of Vietnam; you blame the theory behind the war. Nobody who fought in that war was at fault. It was the war itself that was at fault. – James Hillman • You have a row of dominoes set up; you knock over the first one, and what will happen to the last one is that it will go over very quickly. – Dwight D. Eisenhower • You have my assurance that we will respond with full force should the settlement be violated by North Vietnam. – Richard M. Nixon

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equitiesstocks · 4 years

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Vietnam Quotes

Official Website: Vietnam Quotes

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