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Even If It Didn't Happen Once upon a time, there is Axel, and there is Roxas. They read Dickinson and Plath and wind their misery through books and back out again as quotations, as if literature can take the sting out and make it feel a little less like theirs. They swap horror stories and it's up to you what those stories are, what their pasts are, what part they're going to play in this story. To tell them would be to cheapen them, to call for cries of 'it's not that bad' from others, and this isn't that sort of story. For now, give them yours, give them every silent hatred you've found deep in those dark nights, eEven If It Didn't Happen by =Neffectual


Looking at Yourself: Pt. 20 Part Twenty Arms of Daring GraceLooking at Yourself: Pt. 20 by =Neffectual
Roxas adores Moscow. He wishes he could spend more time here, more time exploring the city; places to eat, tourist traps, the places where all the locals go at night, the proper way to traverse frozen cobbles, the little secret histories that no one speaks about and which you won't find in any of the books published in the roman alphabet. He loves the Cyrillic on the signs and doors, the shape of the letters, the clicking sound of locals exchanging information or bartering over goods, and wonders how long it takes to become fluent, how hard it would be to learn another language. The cold is somethin
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