#some people are in fact being sincerely condescending and they are not the target audience here

[lovenpeace-pkmn]

...Listen, guys. If you want a teenager to listen to you, emphasizing their youth or your experience is the fastest way to fail. As soon as you bring up how young and inexperienced they are compared to your adult wisdom, you have placed yourself into the category of "someone who won't take their concerns seriously, and therefore isn't worth listening to."

I think that some of you are genuinely well-intentioned and do not intend to come across as condescending, which is why I am bothering saying this at all, but you need to understand that you are coming across as condescending when you do this.

[fieryfafarfanfics]

Fated Comfort

 Silence hummed its melancholic melody. The stars above remained glinting, sparkling, baring as witnesses for the two teenagers that sat in still discomfort. One had her focus given to the bandaged wrist. One had his gaze torn away from such a pitiful, pitiful sight.  None had said a word for the past 17 minutes. The sounds of ticks and tocks echoed in their minds. Her hands, delicate as they looked, skilfully applied the bandage with such precision. Sometimes he flinched at the accidental pressure, but nothing more as the boy continued to tear his gaze from such a tender touch. Her lips would often mouth an apology, and she continued on until she was sure that the wound was sealed and closed.  He wondered if this was some sick fate. Some sick twisted joke from whatever deity that resided above. One minute, he was the proud child hand-picked by the chairman. He had it all. He was no longer the disgusting orphan that had to fight tooth and nail for his next meal, for his only shelter. He had everything in his grasp. And he was willing to do anything to hold on what was given even tighter.  The next minute, everything slipped far too fast, far too much from his fingers.

 It’s stupid, he thought. Just absolutely stupid that fate decided to toy with his life like it was a sack of nothing. He wasn’t a pious boy, per say, but he had enough sense to think that there truly was an otherworldly being that sometimes butt in and decide to ruin whoever’s life for their own sick enjoyment.  It seems that it’s his life’s turn to be fate’s sick, cruel play.  Once again he flinched at the sting of his bruise. Violet eyes, dead and dull from the moment he was disowned again, finally shot a few glares at the girl in front of him.  “Sorry…” Words finally shattered the heavy silence that loomed over them.  Deciding that whatever response she might get would only piss her off, she continued her actions. With the last finishing touches, Gloria carefully wrapped the end of the bandages. ���There,” was all she said. Crimson eyes never brought up, never fixated on the pair of violets that wrung sorrow in her stomach. One hand tucked a short strand of dark hair behind her ears. Head and body turned to the side, now focused on putting away her first-aid kit—  “Why are you so nice to me?”  Hands ceased above the medical parcel.  Words once again lay heavy in her throat. She took a deep breath. Then released in slow, deep manners. One by one she placed the bottles and bandages inside the kit. The lid then closed with a single click, and even then, Gloria watched as she shoved the boxed item to the side.  “You’re not answering me.”  Arceus, why was he like this? Why was she like this? Willingly helping him without a moment’s hesitance. From the moment she saw that cold-hearted chairman disowning him like a piece of used clothing, Gloria couldn’t get the image of her rival out of her mind.  How baffled he looked. How heartbroken he felt. For once, Gloria finally saw life in the boy’s eyes, but the life that gleamed resembled nothing more than the sight of a heart plummeting down, down into the deepest pits of his stomach. A part of her knew he deserved it. But the young trainer quickly rid away such condescending thoughts when she realized, no matter how angry she was at Bede for breaking Hop’s hope, no child should ever feel the despair of losing their loved one’s love and shelter.  She felt bad. Even now.  One hand moved to the short strands of dark hair. Finally she looked at him, stared straight into the eyes that flickered maliciously.  The smile he gave was jeering. There was no joy, no sincerity. Not once ever since they met.  Her heart felt heavy.  “Can’t I be nice?” She simply reflected back with a question. The wind breezed calmly around them. Sometimes it caressed their prickled skin. Sometimes it whispered hushed lullabies into their burning ears. The girl stood her ground, back straightened and gaze targeted on the eyes that were cold and cruel.  Teeth gritted inside pursed lips. “I didn’t ask for this.” He lifted his left arm; regret bubbled inside when he felt the sting of the bruise. “I don’t need your pity.” He should’ve walked away when he had the chance. “If you think you could take advantage of me when you saw all that, you’re dead wrong—”  “You’re wrong!”  Shock shattered the cold gaze. His left arm draped down to his lap. Eyes widened, pupils shrunk just an inch when he saw the fiery glare.  “I’m not—!” Her voice snapped, then cut short as sharp breaths were forced inside her lungs. A loud exhale zipped past pink lips. “I’m not…pitying you.”  Well, the answer didn’t actually make him feel better.  “Then what?” Grim took hold of his tone as chuckles slurred past his tongue. “You’re making fun of me?” Anger boiled, hotter and hotter until breathing rasped through flaring nostrils. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” Bede wondered why his heart ached from the thought. “You look all normal, but turns out you’re just doing this because it satisfies your sick, twisted—”  “Bede!”  His name resonated within the trees and bushes. In all the moments that led them to each other, Bede realized this was the first time she had ever said his name.  It was filled with rage, void of such care and tenderness.  He hated it.  Red glasses slid slightly down her face. Pushing the lens up with a bit more force than usual, she shot another glare at him.  Ah, right. She was supposed to be angry at him.  “Let me finish.” Cold, calculative tone dripped from the tip of her tongue. “I don’t pity you like you’re some sad sack.” Palms slapped the green grass by her sides. “I mean, I do feel bad when…that happened.” Woe trickled inside of her to see him flinch at the memory. “But at the same time, I’m doing this because—” Because what, exactly? “Because…” Gloria didn’t know. She didn’t even want to know.  Ever since they met, Bede was nothing but cynical and sarcastic. Never in her life had Gloria met such a spiteful person at such a young age. She knew people can sometimes be cruel. She knew not everyone is perfect. But the moment her eyes glinted at a pair of violent violets, Gloria was washed with the realization in which she never thought would have experienced.  He was a bitter boy. And after their first battle together, Gloria relished on the wiping off the grim smirk that was plastered on his face before his tragic defeat.  She was supposed to hate him—be indifferent at best—but then came the day she met Chairman Rose.  She saw how…lively Bede was when he was talking to the chairman. His eyes finally sparked of life. His smile seemed genuine, yet a part of her could see that it looked…forced. He looked so sweet, so innocent, like a baby Deerling seeking the attention of its parent. Gloria couldn’t believe her eyes, actually. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had meet him beforehand, acting all high and mighty with an attitude that made her want to tear her skin off, the girl would have thought that Bede was the nicest, most proper trainer she had ever met.  The next few minutes startled her, however. Because instead of acknowledgement, the next words that came out of the chairman’s mouth was, “Oh, and you were…”  If the chairman was truly Bede’s sponsor, he would at least remember his name, no?  Time passed by quickly in their journey until came the fateful day of Bede’s undoing. She was furious at him at that time. She wanted to find him, to give the fluff-haired boy a piece of her mind of hurting her dear childhood friend. If words couldn’t reach him, then Gloria knew a good old Pokémon battle would set things straight until the trainer made sure that the cocky kid learned his lesson so that he could go and find Hop to apologize—  But alas, that never happened.  For Bede learned a far, far, crueller lesson that even she herself couldn’t imagine.  Her stomach churned at such a bitter memory. As an audience, Gloria felt nothing but pity and woe for the orphaned trainer. Her head felt heavy. Crimson eyes darted to the ground below. “Because…you’re my rival.”  The stars were witnesses of such humans who blundered so foolishly.  She said nothing more. One hand pressed the lens of her glasses again. The other gripped the bits of grass and dew next to her. Was that truly her answer, she belittled herself. Yes, he was one of her rivals that he so coldly declared after their first few battles. But not once have Gloria stated it out loud, let alone in front of him.  Suddenly, the silence was broken by a chuckle.  Then another.  And another.  It wasn’t until she heard a heaty laugh that she finally turned her attention back at him. “Wh—?” A pair of crimsons widened to see cruel bliss flashing before her. The laughter she heard seemed forced, yet real. Painful, yet laced with disgusting glee. “St—” Shock left her breathless. Mouth agape at the taunting shit. He kept laughing and laughing. Each cackle a pitch higher. Each sound a heart heavier.  “You’re my rival.”  Hilarious. Utterly hilarious.  Foolish. Idiotic. Completely ridiculous. What kind of bullshit excuse was that? When did she ever see him as a rival? Why would she even see him as a rival?  Ah, it all makes sense.  All this time, since they met, not once had Bede noticed that she acknowledged him as competition. Her stoic expression. Her calm voice. All of them indicated no malice nor intimidation that proved him worthy of such a title. Even with fire blazing in such crimson eyes in every battle, Bede found out that each sight she had given him afterwards were akin to…indifference.  He hated it.  He hated how happy he was to know that she felt…more about him.  He laughed and he laughed, good hand slapping his eyes until the grim cackle died down.  “Bede…”  This was the second time he heard her calling his name; it was softer.  He hated it.  Violet eyes stung at the memories of a few days back. He wanted to wallow in despair. He wanted to go to the chairman personally and beg him at his feet. His Hattrem be damned, at this point, Bede would rather have the Serene Pokémon beat him to a pulp it if meant being accepted by the chairman again.  But no. Even fate couldn’t give him a damn chance to be swallowed by grief.  After walking aimlessly in the wild area, he just had to bump into a raging Bewear. He just had to run away like the useless coward he was. He just had to trip and land on his left wrist in the most painful way possible. He just had to bump into Gloria so that she could save his sorry ass.  Now, here he was, sitting in front of her, cackling and losing it like a madman loss of all hopes and dreams.  “Bede…”  White teeth gritted heavily at the feel of warmth trickling down his cheeks.  Ego puppeteering his emotions, Bede quickly leaned forward at quick a surprising speed. Luckily, his aim was precise, for the boy now had his vision covered not by his right hand, but by the soft shape of her shoulder.  She felt warm.  The laughter died down, mellowed and mellowed until it slurred as silent, shocked sobs.  He hated this so much.  Gloria only sat in her place, stunned and stupefied. The glasses she wore had once again slid down the shape of her nose. But shock held her perfectly still. Both arms were stretched to the sides. Both knees dug lightly into the soft soil. Her back still slightly arched, and the trainer sucked in a deep when she heard – felt – him shiver on her shoulder.  Delicate whimpers peeped so close to her right ear. It took her only a second to realize where it came from. “I…” Both arms remained frozen in place. Should she hug him? Should she just place them down? Fingers clenched and straightened as confusion and bafflement enveloped her entire body.  She was at lost on whether to be grateful that she wasn’t wearing her favourite red jacket, for the next thing Gloria knew, she felt something wet soaking her black shirt.  Her howling heart ached. “Bede—”  “H-Huh…” His voice, weak and shaking, snapped any comfort that she wanted to give. “If you’re really my so-called rival…” He didn’t realize that he had scooted closer. None of them had. “I shouldn’t—” A sharp breath was forced into aching lungs. “—show you…s-uch a distasteful side…” Emotions controlled his body completely. As his face nuzzled her shoulder like a lost child, Bede mindlessly moved his arms around her waist.  His arms shivered just as badly as his body. White, puffy hair hid away every emotion from her to see, for her witness, to judge. Carefully, shakily Bede moved an inch upwards. Quivering lips pressed against her soaked shoulder. Violet eyes blurred from the reality that dropped right onto him.  She was warm. Soft. Gentle.  Everything he ever wished for from the chairman.  His breathing hitched at the arrow that pierced through his heart. The ache in his bandaged wrist screamed at him to ease on his muscles, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t. The trainer only tightened his hold on her. Both legs had trembled and spread apart, enabling this soft, warm body to be enclosed by him. Neither care nor shame inhabited his mind, for his heart had took over, for his heart only craved the very desire of being needed.  He flinched when he felt something gently patting his shoulder.  “I’m here…”  Ah, to be broken down completely by just hearing that simple, petty sentence.  Sobs turned into hiccups. Jaw ached at the terrible pressure once he felt her hand – so gentle and soft – caressing through the strands of curly white hair.  For once, just for tonight, as the stars bore witness at this heart-breaking sight, Bede let his emotions pour.  Just for tonight—Gloria…—he let fate win this cruel, twisted game. END