#fic: the problem of pain

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Once A Rookie Chapter 21: Isaiah 41:10

Do not fear, because I am with you; don't be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will hold you with my strong righteous hand.

Beatrice gets a little bit distracted in the team meeting. Shannon has a few lessons for her, but not before she gets to spend some time with her person.

Beatrice.” Shannon called her attention back to the meeting. It wasn’t like Beatrice hadn’t been paying attention. She’d taken notes even, much to Mary’s amusement and Lilith’s annoyance. However, toward the end she's apparently entered that little world her mind sometimes took her to as she began running through what Shannon and Mary had been saying. 

Beatrice looked up, her ears burning like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to, even if she’d been attentive until she was required to respond. It was bad luck, or bad timing. Either way, it was her fault. Beatrice never understood why her mind sometimes did this even when things were so important and she was doing everything to stay engaged. “Yes. Sorry.”

Lilith scoffed. Apparently that hadn’t been the appropriate response. Or, just the fact that Beatrice was apparently too good to pay proper attention. It was a rookie mistake if she’d ever seen one. Assignments were dangerous. The briefs were important, and Shannon’s were the best out of anyone’s. 

Shannon didn’t quite know what to make of it. The kid had been taking notes the whole brief. She wanted to be annoyed that Beatrice’s focus had dropped off but it also didn’t make any sense. So rather than jumping down Beatrice’s throat, and likely destroying any relationship they had built to this point, Shannon decided to repeat herself and tackle that problem later. “You are still probationary. I do not want you engaging in any conflict. You will follow and learn. You are to be attached to my hip the entire time. Is that clear?” 

“Yes.” Beatrice’s face flushed. Shannon was handling it well but she knew she’d displeased her mentor by the slight flex of her jaw. 

“What are you to do if we encounter any conflict?” 

“Stay out of the way. Follow instructions.” 

“Good.” Shannon turned to erase the whiteboard she’d thrown the important details up on over a laminated map of the area for the assignment. “As long as there are no questions?” 

“I’m all set.” Lilith nodded, pushing her chair back from the table. Her first year or so she would keep Shannon well after she finished her briefs to go through every little detail, ask questions, try to figure out how Shannon was making her decisions. It helped her understand but mostly she just wanted to learn. Shannon was happy to teach her, but ultimately she’d decided to just let Lilith help in the initial planning to save herself some time on the back end but also to develop the aspiring Warrior Nun.  

“I’m good to go, Shan.” Mary hopped off her perch on the table. She always appreciated how Shannon kept these briefs, brief. Direct. Succinct. Clear. 

She was a master at it. No pun intended. 

It was something Mary wished for when she was subbing in on different teams. The simplicity of it. The confidence. She was seasoned enough not to really get nervous anymore. It was a little dour but Mary figured either the assignment would go well or it wouldn’t. Worrying about it either way was not something that helped regardless. But having a confidant, competent, team lead was always appreciated. 

Having Shannon was always appreciated. In more ways than one.  

“We will head out mid morning. Don’t worry about training this afternoon.” 

“But Sister Helena—” It wasn’t that Lilith was particularly concerned about missing training. No. She was more concerned about getting as much time with the Warrior Nun as much as she possibly could. It was the only thing she’d been aspiring for for her entire life. She wanted to learn as much as she could, but she also wanted to get as much face time as she could to help her chances of making the pressures of her family a reality. 

She didn’t know what she would do if she let that legacy down. 

“Lilith, you can attend if you would like but I would prefer if you used the time to prepare and rest. We have been pushing hard, and Helena and Aita will be here for a while. The plan is for us to train together once we return from this assignment.” Sometimes Shannon wondered if Lilith ever wouldn’t feel the need to challenge her. 

It was different than when Mary did it. Mary did it to push her in the right direction. It was a call out. A push back. But it was never for the explicit purpose of challenging her authority. It was to help. 

Sometimes Lilith just couldn’t help herself. Always pushing back just that little bit. Just enough to make Shannon’s life a little more difficult. Just enough to make it clear exactly where Lilith’s aspirations continued to lie. 

Lilith didn’t bother to respond before she went off to do whatever it was Lilith did. Shannon’s position was clear. Clear enough she knew better than to challenge it. 

Kissing ass at a training session she didn’t need was not going to be a worthwhile use of her time. 

She knew it. Shannon knew it. She knew that Shannon knew she knew it. And around their understanding went. 

It never helped that when Lilith chose to press like that, Mary found it endlessly amusing. It was like a kid pressing their parent’s boundaries just to see where the line was. Lilith was professional enough, and competent enough to do it when there was no real consequence to the challenge. Where nothing was at stake. It helped keep Shannon on her toes enough– kept her grounded enough. It also gave Mary an excuse to tease her, and more importantly it gave her an in when Shannon actually needed to be challenged. 

It wasn’t like Shannon didn’t do the same thing. 

Sometimes it was a fun thing to remind her of, that in the end, it was her own fault for the example she set– even if Shannon’s motivations were slightly less… self-serving when she challenged Mother Superion. She pushed back against Mother Superion more than anyone Mary had ever seen. To include Helena and Aitana who, in theory, had more legs to stand on as far as the hierarchy went, even if it wasn’t by much. Aside from the heads of the other chapters the three of the women were the highest ranking operational sister warriors in the entire order. 

Shannon watched Lilith leave the brief but not without sighing and looking to Mary. She didn’t know what she was hoping for out of that interaction but it wasn’t Mary’s very predictable shrug like ‘don’t look at me’ wasn’t it. Shannon sighed before she turned back to the rookie that actually needed some training, “Beatrice, tonight after dinner I’m going to walk you through how we set everything up. But, speaking of dinner, you should know we will probably be two people more crowded.” 

“Oh, okay.” Beatrice wished in that moment she’d figured out how to control the blood flow to her face, because she felt it draining enough she knew her cheeks would grow pale beneath her freckles. She wasn’t included in the group yet. It made sense. She hadn’t earned it yet. Of course they would need her seat at dinner to make room for the Warrior Nun and Sister Aitana. “What time would you like me to meet you after dinner—” 

“Meet me after dinner?” Shannon repeated trailing off the end as she tried to figure out why Beatrice looked so damn stricken. “ What? No.” Shannon shook her head looking at Mary as if she needed her help. “I’m just letting you know so you can adjust expectations and aren’t caught off guard. Dinner might be a little bit more lively than usual, that’s all.” 

“Oh.” Inside Beatrice’s chest the warmth of the care Shannon took with her was at war with the embarrassment of Shannon having picked up on… anything at all really. Again. There she was. Being accommodated. For what, Beatrice didn’t know exactly, but having her comfort looked out for like this wasn’t something she was sure wouldn’t ever not throw her. “I thought–” 

Shannon was at a loss. She could only tell the young sister so many times that she didn’t have to worry about it. 

Well, that wasn’t true. 

She could repeat it until Beatrice believed it. She could keep doing it just to make it clear. But she didn’t know what to do to get Beatrice to actually trust it. It hurt– to think about what in Beatrice’s past made her this ready to just be cast aside by people who so clearly cared for her. 

Yet none of that was coming to Shannon in words as she looked at the shock written in Beatrice’s wide eyes. 

God damn it. “Kid.” Mary was at a loss too, but she had it a little more in hand than Shannon at the moment. She didn’t take it so personally when Beatrice still didn’t completely trust her acceptance amongst them. Not like Shannon. “You are one of us now. Of course you’re included in the plans. Unless you are specifically told not to join, it is assumed that you will be with us. We want you here, Beatrice. You wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. So trust your team, okay?” 

KEEP READING

[theminecraftbee]

you know the excellent quadruple life fan comic has me thinking about double life again. and MAN. thinking about the soul bonds mechanically. like, before I get into my meta-analysis it’s worth noting that non-diagetically the soulbond mechanic being based on how many hearts someone has is basically the only way I can think to do it in minecraft that’s sensible, but diagetically…

so do you ever think about how the marker of what made people soulmates in double life was pain?

like, soulmates share injuries/pain! that’s the whole premise! like, to the point that day one people were making up elaborate ways to hurt themselves so they could test for their soulmates! you met your (very romantic-coded) partner and confirmed they were the person you were looking for by hitting each other, generally!

being a soulmate in the double life universe isn’t about being compatible, it’s about literally sharing pain, and it’s just… I think about how for some pairs, they share the burden between each other, and it brings them closer. for some pairs, though, the only way they know how to communicate is by hurting one another. and the thing is, this isn’t just a literal thing. like, mechanically, the thing soulmates do is share pain and communicate with pain, but metaphorically, can you say desert duo doesn’t have trouble communicating because half of how they know how to exist is either sharing in pain or causing it for each other? can you say that ranchers’ strength wasn’t a pair of people who understood each other’s pain and desperation to be better than they’ve been before? can you say that divorce quartet isn’t, well—

so pearl wins after scott hurts them one last time don’t you ever think about that,

[bittersqxtch]

[phoenixcatch7]

Loz fandom stop being angsty and give the daydreaming kids on big fun adventures with a cool glowing sword some actual whimsy and joy challenge

[tumble-tv]

Writing fanfic about a very mentally unstable character because fistfighting my doctors isn't right

[possamble]

I'm not allowed to be on social media for more than two seconds today but I just wanted to say that Laios will absolutely have his own reaction to all this as someone who would die for Falin but has also imprinted on Marcille as his Emotional Support Comphet White Girl Not-Girlfriend along the way

[djappleblush]

"This fic is not abandoned," "Next chapter coming right up!" "Apologies for the cliffhanger; the wait will be worth it,"

advertised the fanfic author whose work was written in the 1500s.

[th3archivisst]

Writing is like watching a mildly interesting Netflix program.

It’s fun, and when you start you spend hours on it, but if you make the mistake of taking a break before you’re done, say goodbye to finishing it that month.

[stasyalovem]

"But what could he say to him in the end? I'm sorry, mate, I still can't tell if I'm really in love with you, but every time you look at me so insightfully with your amazingly beautiful eyes, it seems that the universe stops spinning; or when we embrace, escaping yet another danger, I force myself to let go because I'm so afraid of losing you again."

a little story in which Charles tries to understand his feelings and finally realizes that he has been in love with Edwin all these years.

this show and two silly ghosts in love captivated me so much that I was forced to create an account on ao3:) I'll be very grateful if you read this and give me a little feedback <3

[kuroshitsuji-sama]

hiiii this is oddly specific but I was wondering if you had any sebaciel fic recommendations that follow the manga but reframe the canon, if that makes sense?

Ohhh dig my wounds and eat my dead body, if you will😭

I know exactly what you mean, it make sense because I can only dream about that kind of fic. I personally don't know anything similar to it, BUT!!!! I know fic that type - it follows first and second season of Kuroshitsuji and it's very good I promise. If you already don't know for this one - Those Gentle Slopes that Lead to Hell (whole fandom knows this fic🤣)

I would like to see more canon reframed sebaciel stories, especially manga part, Emerald arc and so much more but....seems like people in this fandom like to make Sebastiana nd Ciel OOC more than writing them in canon. Can't judge them because they are complicated characters, not for everyone, but still I am so sad😫

People, feel free to drop you favorite SebaCiel canon fic, if you have any😅

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Shannon's short spring break trip back home is perfect until it isn't... Her life goes up in flames- the only question is, will she run toward it or run away?

Breakfast at O’Connell’s was everything Shannon had always loved about it. Firefighters getting off shift rotated through as heaping plates of the best breakfast in New York slid in front of them. Shannon was lucky enough to have Lucky pressed up against her leg and her dad across the table from her, sipping on coffee and laughing as she regaled him with tales from training and school. 

She’d do anything to make him smile. Anything to prove to him that she was training and doing okay all those states away most of the year. He would do the same—stories from the firehouse, stories from calls– any and all of them really. Shannon liked hearing about even the boring ones. Even old stories about Jo and Benny that she’d heard only a thousand times. 

Oldman O’Connell kept their mugs full, though he always protested that Shannon was too young for coffee and should be having hot chocolate instead. He also brought out an extra plate of the good bacon and two house donuts alongside Shannon’s order of the house special—Irish Benedict. 

The rest of the day went more of the same. On their way back to the house, Shannon’s smile almost split her face when her dad’s truck rolled to a stop by their fishing spot in the Hudson. She hadn’t even noticed their poles or the tackle box in the back of the truck. Lucky was wagging his tail so hard it was pretty clear he was just as excited as Shannon was. 

It was the best spot. There was a good view of the city from here, it was quiet, never very crowded. The only problem was that they never really caught much. Not that they ever ate them, it was more of a catch-and-release program than anything else. They kept the ones when they went upstate, but the catching was never really what mattered to Shannon. 

She just liked spending time with her dad. Sometimes, they would talk. Sometimes, they wouldn’t. Sometimes, they would talk about the hard stuff. Sometimes, they just listened to the water and whatever it was around them. Sometimes, Aunt Jo would come and play fetch with Lucky and talk trash about them not being any good at fishing. 

Today, it was some of all of it. There was the talking about Shannon still wanting to join FD when she graduated college, and Lucky nosing his ball into her foot for her to toss, her dad watching her carefully, not wanting to pry but feeling like there was something Shannon wasn’t telling him.  There weren’t any bites, just enjoying the repetitiveness of tossing a long cast of the line over her shoulder, and slowly reeling it back in. It was always such a mindless rhythm. 

It was everything Shannon hoped her short stop in New York might be, especially when Jo met up with them as they were pulling back into the driveway. They were planning on doing a little workout. The whole day had gone great. The workout back at Paddy’s Field behind the playground was everything that had gotten her ready to play soccer at such a high level. After their run (a little slower this time to let Lucky keep up with them with his aging hips and her Dad’s trick knee), they moved to the agility ladder and some weighted movements using the sandbags they usually kept behind the bushes since no one was ever back here. Shannon brought her soccer ball, too. 

Having it at her feet while Jo and Lucky tried to play defense. Her dad was attempting to play goalie against the rusted fence that had served as their goal for many years. Soccer was never his favorite, but when Shannon told him that she was choosing it over basketball, he got on board so fast. As long as his little girl loved it, he would love it, too. 

The walk back to the house was just as nostalgic as the rest of the day had been. Debating what place to order takeout from. Lucky trotted happily next to her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as she held her soccer ball under her arm against her hip. The way he looked up at her was maybe one of Shannon’s favorite things in the world. Her dad loved her, Jo loved her, she had all the guys at the firehouse, but Lucky? Lucky looked at her like Shannon was his entire world. 

Jo always joked with her that she shouldn’t ever be with anyone who didn’t look at her with at least half as much love as Lucky did. Then she would quickly accuse Shannon of feeding Lucky scraps under the table because that was by far the easiest way to buy his affections. 

Her dad and Jo were joking on either side of her as they walked too. Talking idly, occasionally making comments about their old age and how it wasn’t fair that Shannon could outpace her dad now. Always making excuses even if he winked after them. His kid was an athlete , and of course, she was going to wipe the floor with him in anything athletic. He was far past being ‘man enough’ to take that away from her. He would give her all the credit she was due. His kid would own every bit of confidence she should. He would make sure of that. 

They turned off Van Cortland Park to head past Jo’s apartment. Shannon never understood why Jo didn’t just live with them. She was over at the Masters’ house most nights they weren’t on shift anyway, or Shannon was spending the night in her own room. Now being a little bit older, Shannon wondered if it was so Aunt Jo could have her own space when she wanted. Or if she ever decided to date anyone, though no one had ever really been around.

Shannon was snapped from her thoughts when the smell of smoke on the wind hit her in the face. The two career firefighters on either side of her immediately stopped their bickering to swing their heads to look for the source. 

Shannon Shannon saw the plumeof smoke first. A little bit down the street, she saw it. The tall columnof dark smoke rose above the trees next to a very familiar corner. “Is that…” 

“Sean.” Jo’s face flashed pale as she looked at her best friend. 

Shannon was right. It was her apartment building, and by the lack of sirens in the distance… well, it just wasn’t good. 

Jo took off at a sprint. 

Sean looked at Shannon before following Jo. 

Shannon dropped her soccer ball—

the soccer ball she’d had since she had been in middle school, it was torn to hell, but it was hers — 

—it bounced on the pavement as she chased after her dad and Jo.

Keep Reading

[theminecraftbee]

After forty-five minutes of no word, the three of them finally decide that someone should go check on Tango. Normally, Xisuma would have reluctantly advocated for just starting without him—it’s Tango, he’d probably gotten caught up in Decked Out work, he’d apologize and laugh it off later and wouldn’t change—but he’d seemed so genuinely excited this time. He’d rambled back at them the moment Etho had invited him to join in on the wither-mining. He’d promised he’d try to show up. He’d checked the time more than once.

It’s been a while since most of the hermits had seen Tango outside of his fortress. Or spoken to him for more than about twenty minutes if their name wasn’t “Zedaph”. Or—it’s been a while. That man is working himself to death, Xisuma swears.

(It’s… not Tango’s fault, Xisuma tells himself. He’d meant to have more done by now. The whole Empires fiasco had put a damper on that. Tango’s always been the sort to fixate a little on his latest project. Besides, all of the Hermits get caught up. It’s normal to occasionally go a week or two without talking to anyone else. It’s just that it’s starting to hurt a little, to reach out and get...)

(Xisuma will make up a better excuse. It’s why he volunteered to go check on him. Save Tango and Etho a little heartache.)

(Tango had been really excited—but so had Etho.)

It’s a short enough elytra flight to the Deep Frost Citadel. Xisuma takes a deep breath. He’ll probably have to locate Tango and convince him to come up from the outside. That place is a death trap already to half the server, and Tango’s normally in the maintenance tunnels instead of the main body of the cave, which are a death trap in a unique “largely unfit for habitation by anything breathing” way that Tango seems to be the only one who knows how to navigate. He’ll make sure he’s okay, and then…

Xisuma‘a thoughts come to a pause as he approaches. There’s someone else at the Citadel, standing near the base of the hill, just past where the borders of Tango’s snowy base fade into the grassland.

A few minutes of approach later, and it becomes clear it’s Tango. He’s standing oddly, his feet braced and arms unsteadily placed forward like he’s worried he might fall. When Xisuma lights another rocket, he looks up in Xisuma’s direction, but before really catching sight of Xisuma, he turns around and winces, rubbing his eyes repeatedly.

“Hello,” Xisuma says as he lands. Tango turns to—not quite look at him? Tango is looking in the direction of Xisuma, certainly, but isn’t quite looking at Xisuma’s face. Maybe there’s too much glare in Xisuma’s visor today?

“Oh, hey X! How’s it hangin’?” Tango says.

“Oh, you know, I was just here to check on you. You’re a bit late to our demonstration.”

“What?” Tango says. “It’s—of course it has.”

“Did you get caught up?” Xisuma asks. He tries very hard not to sound disappointed.

“I—yeah,” Tango says. “Sorry, I swear I set an alarm, but if you’re here I must be later than I thought.”

“Probably nearly an hour by now.”

“I’ve been—a whole hour? Feels like longer,” mumbles Tango.

“The others agreed to wait if you’re coming, and you’re already outside,” Xisuma says. “We can get over there in a few minutes. It’s not too late. Put on your elytra and—“

“No!” yelps Tango, stepping back, stumbling, and then, eyes wide, looking around like he’s trying to find something. “I mean, uh. Not used to open-air flying right now. I was planning on taking the nether but I ran out of fireproof potions and don’t have the blaze rods to make more, so here I am. I promise I didn’t mean to be late, I just…”

Xisuma has no idea where to start. But. “Tango, you built the nether hub? You know you don’t need fireproof potions to get to the Ancient City we’re using.”

“Haha, yeah,” Tango says, and doesn’t elaborate.

“So I guess you were going to the shopping district, to get more blaze rods and their portal?” Xisuma says.

“Yeah, uh, then I realized I, uh, don’t. Remember how to get there,” Tango says. “And, well, you know how it is. Even when you have permission to leave it’s still kind of daunting!”

His voice goes high and a little squeaky. His eyes, Xisuma realizes, have had a sort of wild fear to them since Xisuma first suggested stepping further than where he’s standing. If Tango had pupils, Xisuma imagines they’d probably be darting. The rest of his facial expression does the work well enough.

Xisuma really doesn’t know where to start.

“And you’ve been stuck here for… nearly an hour?” Xisuma says.

“Yeah. Man, I got permission to leave and everything,” Tango says again, which, okay, very concerning phrasing, Xisuma’s just going to put that away for the time being though, because there are a lot of other things to unpack here. “And like, I wanted to see the Withers and a Warden fight! Who would win, right?”

He still hasn’t moved. As Xisuma’s talked, he’s gotten closer to looking Xisuma in the eyes, but it’s more like he’s very confidently looking at Xisuma’s chin. He keeps squinting and blinking when his eyes aren’t wide with a wild, lost sort of panic.

He’s also still rambling.

“Probably for the best I don’t leave, though. I mean, I held you all up, I’d hate to hold it up further because I got caught up. I can just go back; best to keep doing my duty after all. Sorry about that!”

Tango turns back towards his base, as though making that excuse was the excuse he needed to go back towards safer ground. Maybe another time, Xisuma would have let that be, but the thing is, Tango and Etho had both been so excited, and Xisuma can hear the disappointment in Tango’s voice. He doesn’t want to be making this excuse either. Xisuma has no idea what, but something’s wrong.

(Well, Xisuma has some idea, but while he may be a derp, he’s pretty sure it’s rude to ask someone whether they’ve gone blind, developed agoraphobia, gotten possessed, or multiple of those things at the same time. If someone doesn’t bring it up it’s not Xisuma’s business, right? Right.)

(He’ll just…)

“…no, we want to do this with you,” Xisuma says. “Do you need help getting to the cave we’re doing it in?”

Xisuma can see Tango warring between the pride that stops him from asking for help and whatever it is that had paralyzed him the moment he’d tried to step past his base’s borders. He can see Tango war between how easy it would be to claim he didn’t have time and how much he’d wanted to see the wither mining.

“It’s all going to be underground?” he says.

Weird question. File that away. “Yep! Inside an ancient city!”

“And I got permission to leave,” mutters Tango. “So it’s going to be fine once I actually get there.”

“I can even grab some fireproof potions from Cub’s shop when we’re done,” wheedles Xisuma.

“…fine. Lead the way. Uh, and, if you could hold my hand. It’s… very hard to know where I am outside of my base when it’s so bright,” Tango says, voice a little small, and okay, so a mix of all three. Xisuma really should pry, but he’s got what he came here for, and it’s not really his business, is it? He’s sure Tango’ll work it out in the end. He’s a smart guy.

“Gladly, my friend. Let’s go die to withers sixty times.”

Tango laughs shakily. “Yes, let’s!”

Xisuma laces his fingers around Tango’s hand and, suddenly aware of just how many things there are to trip on, starts walking towards the Ancient City.

Gosh, but this is going to take an hour, isn’t it? He sighs and pulls out his messenger to tell the other two. A thought strikes him.

“You know, next time you have this problem, you should text ahead. You can use text-to-speech, you know.”

Tango barks a laugh, louder this time. “Yeah, sure, that’s going to be on my mind. Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Well, good enough for Xisuma!

They make their way to the Ancient City together.

[mamawasatesttube]

uh oh i can feel myself getting bogged down in the perfectionism sauce again... i need to write smth stupid and self indulgent ough

[sotwk]

I am writing this story for myself!!! It is important to me and makes me happy!

Who cares if no one else will want to read it? Who cares if it won't get much engagement?! Who cares?!!

I care and I'm just trying very hard not to.

[happy74827]

You ever just revisit your old fics (which unfortunately are public to the world) and you want to delete it so bad because it’s just painful to glance at, but at the same time, you know someone out there is emotionally attached to that fic and you just don’t have the heart to rip that away from them.

The true pain of a writer.

[adhdprincess]

Ao3's new disclaimer is wild 😮