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staticscreenwriting · 3 years ago

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Where the heart is // B. B.

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)

TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately.

Waking up from this nightmare How's your life, what's it like there? Is it all what you want it to be? Does it hurt when you think about me? And how broken my heart is

The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.

People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.

There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.

There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.

When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.

“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”

“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“

“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “

She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.

“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.

“ If that’s okay with you.”

“ sure. “

The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”

They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.

He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.

Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.

There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.

She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.

“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.

She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.

“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “

His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.

Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.

“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.

There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.

He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.

“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “

He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.

“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “

She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.

“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.”

“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”

Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?

She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.

“ Sure, I guess. I — yeah.”

She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.

He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.

She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.

There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.

“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “

He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.

Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.

“ I have — I have no idea. “ he has to confess.

“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.

“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”

“ Oh god! That was terrible. “

“ It was.”

She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.

“ What are you thinking about? “

He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?

“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “

It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.

“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.

Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.

“ Nothing. “

“ Hm? “

“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “

She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.

It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.

“ Our first picture with Alpine. “

“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.

He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.

“ Was worth it though! “

Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “

“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”

“ He’s our cat.” he points out.

“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”

It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.

“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “

“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “

There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.

“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.

“ Is that from the —”

“ The tattoo place, yeah. “

The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.

“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.

“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “

Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “

“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.

“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.

“ You were the best boyfriend. “

“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “

She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.

“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “

It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.

Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.

“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “

“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.

But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.

“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “

She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.

“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.

“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.

“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “

“ I didn’t give up. “

“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “

“ You agreed! “

“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”

Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.

“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “

“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken. “

He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.

Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.

“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “

She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.

“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “

“ I miss you Bucky. “

“ I miss you too. “

“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”

“ Even without the babies? “

“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”

“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.

Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.

“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “

“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.

He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.

“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “

“ I think you might be right. “

And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.

“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “

“ You’ll look gorgeous.”

And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.

There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.

They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.

And forever.

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akitokihojo · 3 years ago

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Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?” Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #Inukag fanfiction #stay #akitokihojo #hurt/comfort #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #Inukag fanfic #Inukag fic

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zirkkun · 4 years ago

Photo

❤️ULR Speed Date Event Results - Part 5/5!💙

And, very unsurprisingly, Ace is in first place for the amount of submissions he received, that being 82! Due to the fact that there was so many submissions, he has a lot more I debated between (and even though one of these was a joke response... it was still pretty story worthy):

❤️ Ary 💙 dragon anon ❤️ din 💙 Vee ❤️ Yours~ 💙 ya know, nyah :3c ❤️ Chaomingo 💙 Lilianna ❤️ Orly

And last but not least is the winner of Ace’s date will be revealed. You can read the date either under read more or on AO3!

🖤--✨--❤️

Undertale (c) Toby Fox Underlust by @/nsfwshamecave Underlust Reimagine by myself

Thank you for your support, but do remember to support and read Underlust (18+) if you can!

ulr masterpost || ulr main tag || ulr ask box || ulr comic beginning || kofi?

... the anon who submitted under the name Lilianna!

❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

Sans still didn't want to be a part of this. He didn't want to be doing this at all. But, unfortunately, his brother wouldn't take "hell no" for an answer. So now he was stuck on a date. With a human, no less. Oh joy. Despite the fact that living on the Surface was so saught after, he really wasn't finding it to be appealing.

At least, for the start of this, he was by himself. Maybe a long time ago, he would have been bothered by someone being late to an event like this, but for now, he was indulging in the silence.

She, Sans's date, decided that she wanted to meet at this park outside of the city, late at night, for a chance to watch the stars. Frankly, he didn't really care one way or another. But, he did eventually find himself standing at the ledge of a bridge, watching the stars twinkling in their reflection on a river. That and the dead silence, only bug noises chirping here and there; was shockingly more relaxing than Sans had anticipated it would be.

"There you are! Sorry I'm late!!"

And the relaxation was cut short. Oh well. Not that he didn't expect that.

Sans turned his attention towards the direction of the voice, spotting the human running up to him as fast as she could. Panting as she caught up to him on the bridge, she exclaimed, "I'm so, so sorry, things were backed up getting out of the city and --"

"i don't really care," Sans cut in. He turned his attention back to the river.

The human, a little taken aback, tried to brush over the harsh comment. She took a step towards the edge of bridge, holding on to the railing with a tight grip. The silence echoed in the park once more, but for the human, this was more awkward than anything else. She didn't really know what to say... is there a topic she knew offhand he'd be willing to discuss? Um... no, not really.

"hey."

Oh! He said something first! "Yeah?" the human responded.

"do you think a fall from this height into the river would kill me?"

A brief moment of silence. It held both shock and interest from each halves of the conversation.

"What -- I don't know?! I don't really want to know!! That sounds painful regardless and I really don't want to find out!!"

But Sans just laughed at her sudden panic. "relax. i was joking."

"Th... that's a bit of a dark joke, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "It happens." He didn't elaborate, leaving the silence to once again consume the conversation into nothing. The human shifted uncomfortably where she stood.

She debated back and forth on another topic to talk about. Anything to ease the tension -- especially since it got worse with his topic of choice.

"Um... so, on that form thing, you asked me about stuff I like to do... but what about stuff you like to do?" she prompted, hoping it wouldn't be another dark joke response.

"hm." Sans pondered the question for a while, not really knowing what to say. When's the last time he did something he liked doing? Probably when he was working with the other Royal Scientists. Which was over ten years ago. "i dunno," he answered instead. "haven't done anything just 'cause in a long time."

"Oh." The human frowned. "Well, maybe we could do something together sometime then, and you can find a new hobby? Only if you'd like, of course."

Sans raised a brow as he flicked his gaze to her. "like what?"

"Oh, um... well, I like to bake, draw, and read... but those are all pretty boring so maybe not those..." she responded sheepishly.

Sans didn't react negatively, but he wasn't exactly enthusiastic either. He's practically read every book from the Underground cover-to-cover with how much time he's had on his hands, and his drawing skills were... not to be admired. And Papyrus has always been on his case to eat more. So... "i dunno, baking?" he blurted.

The human blinked. "As in, you'd want to do some baking together?"

"yeah, sure, whatever."

"You really don't sound all that interested."

"i'm not interested in most things, what's your point?"

The human shuffled back into silence for a brief while as she herself started to stare at the river, her eyes trailing down the reflection until they met the sky, full of crystal-clear stars. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she added. "I know you're already... not super excited about this current date, so please don't feel like you have to force yourself further."

Ah. There it was. The same kind of consideration that made him pick this person over everyone else in the first place. Some people had acknowledged him not wanting to deal with this, but their responses were things like, "Then why be here?" which only irked him enough to toss them aside. Some disacknowledged it, which he prefered, but something about when she said... "You seem like you don't want to do this anyways, which is all good," really hit him in a way he didn't expect.

Sans, however, did not even consider responding out loud, and instead just pulled his scarf up tighter on his face. Sans? Being honest and clear with his emotions? Haha. How funny. Easier to just push them aside. A void of feeling is much easier to deal with.

Well, he did give a sort of grunt of acknowledgment to her comment. But... it was really far after she'd said anything. So she thought he was prompting something new.

"What's that?" she asked.

"nothing."

"Then...?" But the human just shook her head. Maybe talk about something else. "You know..." She'd started a sentence, but didn't actually have anything to say. In a frantic moment to try and finish what she'd started, she said, "Time is a precious thing, isn't it?"

There was a pause.

"what'd'ya mean?" Sans asked.

"We only get so much of it. It's so limited and can be taken from us in a second."

"... yeah, and?"

"I just... I like spending time with people," she finalized. "There's only so much time I have available, and I want to be able to spend as much of it as I can with people I care about and doing things I've wanted to do. Thinking about it all is a bit scary sometimes..."

Sans debated the crass comment of "so what you're saying is i should leave and do something i'd rather be doing," but he figured now was not the time for something like that. He waited a moment to see if the human had more to say about the topic, but when she didn't, he decided to jump in with his own response. "worrying about what you might lose out on is kinda pointless," he said bluntly. "sometimes shit ain't gonna work out, and you'll miss out on something you'd have rather wanted. sometimes people are taken away from you when you least expect it and you're left wondering if you did enough for them or with them. but it's not the end of the world. you've gotta just work with what you're dealt with."

The human didn't expect such a long, nor deep, reply from him, and was a little taken aback by it. While these may have been things said before, or maybe she'd even considered them, it was different to hear them coming from someone who two seconds ago wanted to jump off the bridge. Frankly... does that mean she should take his words with a grain of salt, or...?

"sorry," Sans blurted. "said more than i shoulda."

"Wh -- n-no, don't worry about that!! I just... didn't expect you to have a lot to say on the topic. Or, I guess, to really reply lengthy at all. But it's okay! I'm glad you let me hear your thoughts."

He pulled his scarf tighter as he grunted a response, staring still at the reflection in the river.

#undertale #undertale au #underlust au #underlust reimagine #underlust reimagine sans #underlust reimagine event #zircon arts #zircon writes

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finnlongman · 3 years ago

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hey! do you happen to have any advice for becoming comfortable with, or even proud of, being ace? I realise this is a weird thing to throw into an author/medievalist’s inbox, but as someone who was just broken up with because of asexuality I’m having a Not Great time with it and was hoping you might have some tips. but also absolutely no pressure to answer if you’d rather not

First of all, I'm sorry to hear about your breakup. That must have been really tough.

I don't know how much advice I'll be able to offer that's useful to you. For me, coming to terms with my asexuality was less about navigating specific relationships, and more about processing the sex-negativity and shame I'd internalised as a result of my evangelical upbringing. I couldn't tell whether I was actually ace, or whether I'd just done a really good job of repressing all of my feelings because I didn't feel like I was "allowed" to have them. It was a gradual process of unlearning and challenging my negative thoughts, and slowly becoming more comfortable with myself before I could tell what I was actually feeling.

You may not have that issue, but I do think shame is a problem for so many of us -- particularly when others have made you feel unlovely because of your sexuality. So let me just say: you are not unlovely. This breakup is not a sign of your worth, it is not a sign that all future interpersonal relationships will end badly, and you do not have to feel ashamed of who you are. There are so many ways that you can love people and so many ways that you can show that love, and whether it's romantic or platonic, it doesn't have to involve sex if you don't want it to.

Take pride in your asexuality because it teaches you to find those other kinds of love, to value the relationships that society dismisses as childish or incomplete, and to consider what you really want rather than slipping into familiar patterns we're all taught to see as the be-all and end-all of relationships. Take pride in it because it gives you a different lens through which to view the world. Take pride in it because it's you, and there is nothing wrong with you.

I'm mostly aro as well, so I haven't had to juggle the whole "navigating relationships with non-ace people" situation that is so challenging for many ace folks. (I'm assuming you're not aro / that you're still hoping for a romantic relationship, but if that's a mistaken assumption, I'm sorry!) However, I did see a post on my dash just yesterday that essentially said any relationship that can't survive a lack of sex isn't a healthy relationship. Even for those who are super sex favourable, there may be times in their lives where one partner or another is ill or injured or becomes disabled in a way that makes sex hard/unenjoyable/not an option. There may be periods of separation or long distance. Sex can't be the sole foundation of a long-term relationship, because then it'll crumble the second that's taken away.

And this is true of all relationships, not just those where one partner may be ace, since none of us can predict what the future will bring for us. It should be built on stronger foundations: emotional intimacy, shared values and/or interests, trust, mutual support...

You can still have all of these things. If your ex couldn't see that, that's on them: they wanted something from the relationship that wasn't compatible with what you were bringing to it. You weren't right for each other, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you, just that that relationship was wrong at this point in time.

But: it's okay to feel frustrated or sad about the challenges of being ace. Becoming comfortable with yourself is a process, and it's not one where progress is always a straight line. You'll have days, probably, where you wish you could just feel what "everyone else" is feeling because it would make life easier, and that's okay. You're not betraying anyone in feeling that. Sit with those feelings, and then let them go, dissipating along with your shame.

Finally, I find having ace friends does a lot to help me feel more "normal" and comfortable with what I feel/don't feel. Sometimes it's useful to be able to compare notes. There are forums and various places where you can find ace folks to hang out with; I don't have any recs because I found most of mine by accident (lot of ace medievalists, apparently) but I know there are people out there, and maybe with them you can find a community that helps you feel more comfortable.

I don't know if this is useful at all, but you're going to be okay, anon. 🖤🤍💜

#answered #anon good sir #asexuality

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fireemblems24 · 4 years ago

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Hey! It's the anon who sent the ask about the imperialism thing.

I guess it's kinda ironic because uh, the country that did the whole imperialism shtick to my country is the US. The saddest part is that it's barely acknowledged and I'm pretty sure it's not even studied in your history either. If you're curious, look up Benevolent Assimilation. Yup. That's what they called it.

Anyway I had a realization when you mentioend about why not Edelgard try to enact the changes on her Empire first? And I realised... Yeah, why not???

A possible thing she could've done that's less bloody than a war is to change her Empire first. And then befriend the future leaders of the Kingdom and Alliance while they were in school. That would've made things fairly peaceful between them and also if the changes in the Empire are working out well, she could've promoted the same methods to Dimitri and Claude for them to establish in their own countries. She doesn't need to conquer them. I mean, yeah this is a very easier said than done situation (especially since there's still TWSITD) but again, less bloody alternatives.

To be fair, Edelgard handling this entire affair in a flawed manner such as a war is also fine by me. Seeing imperialism in media is fine especially if it highlights the flaws of it because yes, it and its long term effects need to be acknowledged. But the game just feels like it's condoning her... And there's also the ton of people who agree with her who just make me uncomfortable really because it feels so close to real life. Not only that seeing as this is a Japanese game and the Japanese have a... history with imperialism (in which they also occupied my country... we don't really get a break) it's just uncomfortable.

Again, I like Edelgard and the morally grey potential of her decisions. My problem really is in the execution. I would definitely tolerate CF much more if the BE had more prominent roles as critics? I think that's the only way they'd really fit in CF tbh. Criticise Edelgard, question her actions, make her question her own actions, make her realise the damage she caused. Stuff like that would've made CF into such a good route. Like, if AM is Dimitri's character study, why couldn't we have had Edelgard's character study in CF?

I guess in the end, the main reason why I'm really talkative about the whole Edelgard issue is because I really want to love her? I see the potential in her character — I love her design, her general personality, her voice actress, the fact that she's actually different from the usual female character in these games. But I just end up liking her and not really loving her because sometimes the games feels like it's forcing me to love her so much that I just eh. I still don't like her Byleth attachment.

But yeah I think I'm going to stop bothering you all about this since I think I'm just repeating restated points again.

I briefly looked up “Benevolent Imperialism.” Sounds exactly like the kind of phrase an Imperialist would label their conquest as. I’ll have to learn more about it because surprise, surprise, our history lessons do leave that out.

As for your comments on Edelgard, I agree with everything you said. I cannot believe her actions are wholly benevolent and in the name of bettering society only because she never once attempts to work with other leaders. She’s either so far up her own ass she legitimately thinks killing every other major power in Fodlan except herself is really the best option for everyone or there’s more to her actions than her ideals - like killing all the dragons/forcing them into hiding forever or getting back what she thinks is rightly hers because the Empire ruled those territories hundreds of years ago.

My issue, like yours, is that this game acts like she’s some kind of saint. She’s sacrificing her own soul by bloodying her own hands for the benefit of all. Whenever she talks about all the damage the war causes, it’s not about the victims, it’s about how sorry we should feel for her because she’s dirtying herself so everyone can live in her future utopia.

It takes a grey, interesting perspective and makes it not only very uninteresting (and at times irritating as a player who doesn’t agree with her but it forced to act like she’s the biggest victim in all this), but problematic. To say nothing of how this glorifies war and skips over any and all negative side effects, it’s far more concerning in it’s presentation of Imperialism as a good thing, as a “liberation” of the countries who are getting violently taken over against their will.

Like you, I don’t mind Imperialism in fiction. I don’t even mind seriously entertaining the question - but what if the conqueror really does improve things? What I do mind is this really black/white presentation where Imperialism is framed as liberation, like the Imperialist actually knows better than the countries she’s taking over. What’s super uncomfortable when analyzing things deeper is how unapologetic CF is at spinning the same propaganda used to devastate other countries, many still reeling from the effects.

You could just write it off as fiction. It’s just a Fire Emblem video game no one should take too seriously. And I’m always torn about this argument because I don’t want to police fiction - at all - but I’m also aware of how fiction can change your worldview. You’d think people would be smart enough to separate fiction and reality but they often either don’t or use fiction to reinforce their own world views.

I’m not surprised at all people agree with Edelgard. She’s presented as a liberator, her route presents war like its only victim is the perpetrator because she’s just oh so sad everyone else is forcing her to kill them. But I’m very alarmed if anyone wholly agrees with her and thinks she’s right to invade the Kingdom and the Alliance. You can love a character and not agree with their actions. I love a character who’s quite similar to Edelgard on the surface, Reinhard von Lohengramm, but I do not agree with his actions at all, even if I root for his victory at every turn in his own story anyways, because sometimes it’s fun to watch a magnificent bastard crush everyone under their heels.

And yeah my main frustration with her is that I really want to like her. But her presentation is so bad that I’m struggling to enjoy her in her own route.

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Anteric - Chapter Three (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, BLOOD MENTION, FIGHTING, MENTION OF MURDER, GUN USE.

wc; 10k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“There are two things that you will learn today.” It turns out that Laurel can be loud when she wants to be. Her voice projects across the room with little to no effort, “The first is how to shoot a gun.” she presses one into your palm and keeps walking, “The second is how to win a fight.”

The gun isn’t as heavy as it looks. You turn it over in your hand, thumb running over the sleek metal. When you look up, you can see that Finnick is mesmerised by it. You can’t decide whether or not that’s a good thing. At least neither of you are afraid of it, but you don’t think that you should be idolizing it. Then again, you probably shouldn’t underestimate it, either.

You suppose that you and Finnick will fit in just fine here. As long as Finnick doesn’t get too caught up in his dream, and you don’t keep overthinking it. It’s just a gun.

“Initiation is divided into three stages! Like Caspian told you last night, we will measure and rank you depending on your performance in each stage. The stages are not all weighed equally in determining your final rank. So, it is possible to be at the bottom and wind up at the top. Don’t be fooled, it will not be an easy task to do.

“In Dauntless, we believe that preparation eliminates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear. So, each stage of initiation will prepare you in a different way. Your first stage will be physical, your next will be emotional, and the third and final stage, will be mental.” Laurel stops pacing for a moment, turning to look at you all.

Finnick leans over, “How far do you think you can push your streak?”

“Hitting the target dead-on first try is like expecting a cold gust of wind in hell when it’s summer.”

Finnick snorts.

“I’ll show you how it’s done. And then you will practice until lunch.” Laurel says, turning toward the side of the room with the targets. They’re just squares of plywood with red circles on it. She spreads her legs slightly, holds up the gun away from her face, concentrates, and doesn’t hesitate when she fires. She gets the middle of the circle in the blink of an eye.

If she could do this, you wonder if everyone else inside of the faction can, too. This initiation process has been around for years. It just evolves the more that time goes on because of technology. So, every adult that you have come across so far, should technically know how to shoot. You don’t know whether to be afraid or not.

Finnick rubs his ear with an open palm after the sound of Laurel’s gun. It’s loud, you can feel it in your chest. You’re sure that it’ll only get worse, now that you’re all left to give it a try by yourselves.

“Do you think that you’ll be able to hit the bullseye?” you ask, barely glancing at Finnick.

You copy the way that Laurel had stood. You spread your legs apart a little, hold the gun away from your face, and point it straight at the target. As far as you can see, it should be lined up perfectly. But that’s not taking everything into consideration. You’ve never fired a gun before, and you’ve never seen it happen until now, when Laurel had used hers.

This is new to you. The chances of you actually being able to do this is one in a thousand. Unless you’re some sort of prodigy, which you highly doubt. Just because you’ve qualified for three factions, doesn’t mean you need to go inflating your own ego. You’re just the same as everyone here. Maybe a little better, personality-wise.

“You go first.” Finnick says, catching the attention of Thyme. She lowers her gun to watch too.

“Why me?” you whine, closing one eye to see if you can line it up better. No matter what happens, this is going to miss. It’s just a matter of whether or not you come close.

It’s worth a try.

You breathe in your nose a little when you pull the trigger, already flinching even before the recoil hits. The bang is loud enough to pop your ears, you end up with a wince on your face, arms sore. When you look back at the wood, you expect to see the bullet far away from the middle. In fact, maybe somewhere not near the target at all.

But the hole is on the second red circle, to the right.

A shot of energy goes through you, making you bounce on your toes excitedly.

“At this rate, you’re not going to have anything to worry about.” Finnick says, “I might have to keep my eye on you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, “Let’s see you give it a go.”

He gives you a boyish smile, Thyme backs off slightly. Finnick seems to have the form down, he holds the gun up and away from his face. The smile eventually fades from his face as he begins to focus. By the time he pulls the trigger, he’s gritting his teeth.

You try not to flinch this time. When you look at his aim, it’s better than yours. More than halfway to the circle that surrounds the center. You light up, elbowing him with a smile, “Hey! You’re better than me.”

It goes on like this for the rest of the morning. Round after round, you shoot bullet after bullet. All of them slowly inch towards the middle, but it takes a lot longer than you’d expect it to. By Finnick’s second round, he hit the middle three times in a row before finally falling off the streak.

You relax for a moment, rolling your shoulders. You know how you stood the first time you did it, and you think back to how Laurel had stood. She was relaxed, right at home. She can afford to be, though. She’s done this for years, she was taught how to shoot guns a while ago. You’re just learning.

You need to take it slower.

You roll your wrists next, letting them ache when you get to a certain point. Finnick fires again, hitting the board. Two inches off the middle. Thyme fires and she’s still on the outer circle. Finnick fires again, he hits the middle. This will be you. You crack your neck.

“Okay.” you breathe, holding the gun up again. You spread your legs, relax your shoulders, and bend your arms a little. You place your finger over the trigger, and take in a small breath.

When you pull, the bullet hits the right side of the circle.

You adjust to fit what you need. Just a couple of centimeters to the left, you pull the trigger again. It’s too far over, you shift one more time. This is it, the last bullet before you have to call it a day today. You don’t know if you’ll ever get a second chance at this.

You pull the trigger hard, prepared for the recoil.

The bullet sits directly in the middle.

A breath of relief leaves you. You’re not a total failure after all.

Laurel makes you all stand in a line, handing over your guns while she counts them. There must have been times in the past where initiates tried to hoard guns, you can’t see why she’d need to do it otherwise. When the number comes out to eight, you’re allowed to head over to the dining hall.

Finnick is giddy, of course, that he’s caught on to shooting so well. You decide that you’d much rather listen than actively participate in the conversation. You think that it would be easier to swallow if it weren’t for the fact that Thyme is literally asking him for advice, as if he has any to give. It was his first time shooting, does she think you guys do these types of things for fun?

Gun use in Abnegation is frowned upon. Not only is it a weapon, which resorts to violence. It’s also used as self defense, therefore it’s self-indulgent. If Reed could see you now, he’d be all sorts of pissed. He’d say something along the lines of, “Mom and dad raised you better than this.”

If they were still here, you’re sure that would have been a good enough excuse to stay in Abnegation. You think that Mox wouldn’t have left either. But it’s hard to stick to a place with so much negative energy. The more the years come on, the more Reed seems to sink into this hole of hatred.

The dining hall is less crowded this afternoon, it’s easy pickings for where you want to sit. You pick the middle of a table, and then stare at the food that’s offered for you, debating whether or not you’re hungry. Finnick sits beside you, and seems to do the exact same thing.

“I was kidding yesterday.” he mutters, you think he’s referring to the chicken comment.

“This is all your fault.” you say, giving him a smile.

You grab a small portion of food at a table, not wanting to overdo it. Finnick does the same, and you’re glad to finally see that the gun conversation has ceased. He turns toward you to talk, leaving Thyme out to a certain extent. You can’t say that you feel bad for her. She’s been talking to him all morning, it’s only right that it’s your turn.

“What do you think’s next?” he asks, eating a forkful of carrots.

“Well, Laurel did say that we’d be learning how to win a fight.” you push the food around on your plate. None of it looks appetizing anymore, “I don’t think you really need to learn that, do you?”

In Abnegation, you never watched Finnick lose a fight. This boy has got more power than any of the Erudite and Dauntless kids that he fought. Sometimes, all it took was one punch and the other teenager would go down like a sack of flour. It’s pretty impressive when you’re not the one fighting him. You can’t imagine what it’s like being on the other end, though.

“Probably not, but it never hurts to learn it properly.” Finnick smiles, “And it’ll give you a chance to perfect your form.”

You give him a look. It was one time.

Last night, Caspian wasn’t kidding about where you’d be staying. However, he could’ve at least gave you a little more information about what it would be like so that you didn’t have to figure it out for yourself. He said that there’s ten beds inside of the room, which is correct, but technically they’re bunk beds.

Also, there’s absolutely no privacy anywhere. Not in the main room, where all the beds sit just mere feet from each other. And not in the bathroom, there’s absolutely no stalls. But don’t worry, there’s mirrors in there!

None of this would bother you, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re all sleeping in the same room together. Finnick chose the bottom bunk, you went ahead and picked the top. To his direct right is Thyme, who’s also sleeping on the bottom. And everyone else is scattered in their own corners, too.

Oh, which reminds you, you’ve finally got names to put to every face. The Erudite girl that died yesterday, her name is Elodia. She was apparently best friends with the other Erudite girl, Trink. The two Candor initiates that Trink has been inseparable from is Eytelle, the girl, and Allio, the boy. As for the other two Candor initiates, there’s Ossie, another girl, and Amos, another boy. So, there’s three boys and five girls.

Anyway, since you’re all staying in the same room, you were able to hear the exact moment when Thyme bursted out crying. And that’s not the part that really gets to you. You can kinda sympathize with them for being upset over the fact that they might have chosen the worst faction to go for, even if their aptitude test thought that they’d be prepared for it.

No, the part you hated the most last night was the fact that the crying went on for over ten minutes. And right when Thyme had begun to settle down, getting quieter, someone else started crying. It wasn’t Finnick, but you have a feeling it was one of the other girls. Maybe Trink, because she lost her friend. Or possibly Ossie, because she doesn’t exactly look the type to be in Dauntless in the first place.

Then again, all of them can be full of surprises, you don’t know. What you do know, is that if it happens again tonight, you might just smother everyone with a pillow and decide to be the sole surviving transfer initiate from your Choosing Ceremony. It’ll eliminate the worry of not being able to pass the stages, and you’ll actually get a good night of sleep.

You might spare Finnick.

When Laurel decides that you’re all done eating, she brings you to a new room. This one is large, with a wooden floor that’s cracked and has a large white circle painted in the middle. On the far left wall is a chalkboard, with all of your names written in alphabetical order. From top to bottom, it goes: Allio, yourself, Eytelle, Trink, Amos, Elodia, Finnick and then Thyme.

On another side of the room hangs black punching bags. Laurel has you line up behind them, she takes her time going to the middle so you all can see her, “Like I said this morning, you’ll be learning how to fight. The reason for this is to prepare you to act; to get you used to responding to threats and challenges. Which are instincts you’ll need, if you intend to live in Dauntless.

“We will go over techniques today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other.” The talking between initiates stops, taking in what she said. All you can think about is every time you watched Finnick give a Dauntless teenager a black eye. You wonder how many of them chose to stay in Dauntless, “I’m glad I finally got your attention. If I were you, I’d pay attention today. Those of you who aren’t quick learners will wish you were. Like this morning, I’ll show you how it’s done, and then you’ll practice until six.”

Every punch she shows you, has a name. She’ll demonstrate it in the air first, and then she’ll punch a bag. Following are kicks, which she seems to have more power for. Every time she lands a hit on the punching bag, it’ll spin and rock, you think you can even see dust streaming down from the ceiling.

When it’s your turn to give it a try, you keep it in rotation. You’ll go through all the punches first, and then the kicks. You start over a couple of times, wanting to get your form and position down first. It’ll be the most important part of tomorrow. There’s eight of you, no one will be excluded from the fighting. And if you’re unsure of where you told your hands or where to place your feet, you’re going to be screwed.

The hitting gets harder once you think you can afford to try new combinations. A kick with a punch, maybe the other way around if it feels too uncomfortable. The longer you have at the punching bag, the more you realize just how fun it is. At first, it was unnatural, you’ve only thrown a couple of punches before. But now it seems like second-nature.

“Very good, (Y/n).” Laurel says, passing behind you, “Lower your fists from your face a little, and it’ll be perfect.”

You follow what she says. She’s right, this was the only thing that you were missing. When you throw punches from now on, it’s much easier. By the time six rolls around, your skin is sore and you can’t help but to rub your shins. They’re definitely going to be bruised somewhat. At least it’s not impossible to deal with.

“Laurel says we can go anywhere.” Finnick says, bumping his arm into yours on purpose, “Anywhere.”

“Is it possible to eat dinner first?” you ask, massaging your hands, “You can drag me around after that.”

“Hungry?”

“Mostly hoping that dinner is better than what they served us for lunch.” you give him a smile.

He grins back.

Dinner is much better. Soup, beef, carrots, potatoes, onions. You take your time eating, watching as Finnick has serving after serving. He’s lucky that there’s no limit as to how much you can eat. But he should probably show some more self-restraint, considering whatever he wants to do after this, might cause him to get sick. You eat two bowls before you call it good, while Finnick is just finishing up his seventh.

“Full yet?” you muse.

“I was mostly trying to figure out what I want to do.” Finnick sets his bowl on top of yours, collecting your spoon so that it can sit with his, “And I figured it out.”

“What is it?” Thyme asks, she’s leaning in slightly on the other side of the table.

There’s a mischievous grin that crosses over his face, “Piercings.”

“Oh,” Thyme falls back.

You snort, sliding out of the table, “What’re you going to get pierced?”

“My nose, probably.” Finnick joins you, “And then we can all go shopping.”

This morning, Laurel had provided everyone with clothing. Mostly practical stuff, like jeans, shirts, underwear, jackets, shoes, whatever. It’s all in black, naturally. But the only fitting clothing on you right now is the underwear. As for the shirts, jeans and shoes, they’re a bit bigger than you’d like them to be. It could also be another reason why it’s throwing off your groove.

Of course, this isn’t just a you problem, it’s an everyone problem. Finnick is wearing a shirt that’s a little too tight-fitting than he likes. If he pulls on the fabric, it snaps right back into place. Thyme’s jeans needed a shoelace to keep them up high enough. As for all the other initiates, they ended up in their own problems. You think that Eytelle, the tall Candor girl, is wearing clown shoes.

“Sure.” you agree.

The three of you leave the dining hall to go out to the Pit, which is currently crammed with, what looks like, the entire Dauntless population. You let Finnick lead the way up the narrow paths, and straight to a tattoo-piercing parlor. Every month, Dauntless gives everyone a certain amount of points they can use a month that works like cash.

Finnick talks to a guy at the counter with multiple piercings in his ears, and ones that make his earlobe stretch out far enough that you can see through the earring. Finnick points out a spot on his nose, the guy will say something back, until they seem to come to an agreement. Finnick turns to look at you and Thyme.

“Coming in?” he wiggles his eyebrows, “I know Thyme won’t get a tattoo or piercing, but what about you?”

You give him a face, “I’ll think about it next time.”

“Chicken.” Finnick sings, backing into the parlor.

You purse your lips, watching as his face slowly gets more smug, “Fine, give me one good reason.”

“Because you still walk and talk like a Stiff.” Finnick says.

His eyebrows are raised, he knows that he’s won it. Stiff is a term, normally derogatory, used towards Abnegation faction members because of how stuck-up you are--or, were. There’s a lot of restrictions in Abnegation. Piercings, tattoos and brightly colored hair is self-indulgent. Talking loudly, laughing, or even playing games is distracting. Hell, even relationships are frowned upon, not supposed to be public because they’re nuisances.

Finnick is wrong on some parts. You don’t talk like you’re in Abnegation, otherwise your voice would be hushed whispers and you wouldn’t laugh like the rest of these people. You didn’t complain about the guns, or defending yourself. You didn’t cry last night because you were afraid. You even pushed through things that you’re normally afraid of to fit right in.

The other parts are much more difficult. You think of yourself as a chameleon. Before all of this, before you had switched factions, you also seemed to fit in just fine as an Abnegation member. You said so yourself. But now you’re in Dauntless, you’re fitting in too. You wonder what it would have been like in Erudite, how easy it would have been for you to blend in there too.

The obvious reason for this is the Divergence.

And Laurel told you not to stand out. It’s dangerous. You don’t want to know what she meant by that exactly. All you have to do now, is make sure that it doesn’t happen again. You’ll have to do better at making yourself hidden.

You give Finnick a smile, heading towards the parlor.

“Hey--wait!” Thyme grabs your arm, stopping you from going, “I thought me and you could go shopping while we wait for him.”

“You know you can get your ears pierced, right?” you ask her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her with you, “One baby step at a time.”

Inside of the parlor, you’re matched with a different guy. You settle on a nose stud, thanks to his suggestion. You’re mostly worried about what might happen to it starting tomorrow. With a ring, like Finnick’s getting, there’s more of a chance of it getting ripped out. The stud will still sparkle in light, and it won’t be as irritating. Thyme goes ahead and gets both of her ears pierced on the lobe.

Walking out, Finnick’s nose is still bleeding. Thyme looks happy with her silver flowers, and you resist the urge to itch the new wound on your face. Thyme brings you and Finnick to a store that she’d been eyeing for a while. Honestly, you can’t tell the difference between any of it. One black clothing store to another. It’s all just as bland as the grey Abnegation clothing.

You find high-waisted skinny jeans, throwing them over your arm. You pick out a shirt that looks like it’s your size, and disappear into a changing room to make sure it fits. All clothing back home is baggy, in Dauntless it’s supposed to stick to your skin. Before, size didn’t matter when it came to clothes, only that it didn’t get in the way of your volunteer work.

Surprisingly, you picked out the right size the first time around. The jeans feel comfy on your hips, the sleeves of the shirt are fairly loose and don’t cut off circulation in your arms. You pay for it with your points, and then go right back to hunting for tennis shoes.

Finnick finds his clothes soon after, joining you on a bench while you go through shoe boxes. Thyme goes in and out of the dressing room, not being able to find a pair of jeans that fit. It’s comical, watching her pace the aisles. Eventually she gives up and has to ask for help.

You stand from the bench, kicking the shoes around, bending and walking in them. They fit well, and there’s space at the top so that your toes aren’t crammed. You pay for the shoes too, Finnick buys everything that he’s wearing. The two of you dump your clothes in separate black bags, you suggested wearing them to bed so that you won’t have to genuinely live in these clothes.

As soon as Thyme is done, the three of you head back to the room.

“Who do you think we’ll be paired up with tomorrow?” Thyme asks, looking over to you two.

Finnick shrugs, and then gives you a glance.

“I have no clue, don’t look at me like that.”

“Except you’re really good at taking guesses.” Finnick says, “So guess.”

He’s wrong, you think. You’re not good at guessing, you’re good at narrowing down the possibilities and choosing the ones that seem most likely. And you keep doing it until you’re down to one solution. Which is definitely not an Abnegation response to problems, it’s an Erudite one. Finnick has unintentionally picked up on it.

You give out a sigh anyway, “Well, I think Laurel likes us enough, so she’ll start off easy and try to match us with people that are like us.” you look at him, “Good enough?”

“Good enough.” Finnick smiles.

When you got up this morning, the first order of business that Laurel had you doing was practicing shooting guns again. For several hours straight, you got to watch Finnick get better and better at hitting the middle. At first, you weren’t entirely bothered, but the irritation started to fester when Thyme kept praising him. You were too happy for it to be over, even after your aim improved considerably.

Now, you all stand together inside of the punching bag room from yesterday.Laurel stands in front of the chalkboard, smoothly writing on it. The only sound that fills the room is the sound of the chalk hitting the board as she writes your names down next to each other. She wasn’t lying when she said that the real initiation would start today.

Last night you said Laurel might like you enough to pair you with someone that would be easy to beat. You’re not as confident anymore. Caspian stands off to the side of the room, watching Laurel. You might have been happy to see a familiar face in Dauntless two days ago, but you haven’t forgotten the things that Caspian said to you when you were a kid. It’s impossible to, all he did was add to your growing hatred.

As far as you can tell at the moment, Caspian is almost the same guy he was before he switched to Dauntless. Before, he was mean, thought he was funny, and convinced himself that he was the shit. He has his moments where he can genuinely be likeable, but it’s always some sort of honeymoon faze. He can ruin it as fast as you can snap your fingers. And he’s good at hiding that mean side of his personality, but it can show out in little bits and pieces. Like sunshine peeking through clouds.

“Lucky for all of you, no one has to sit out.” Laurel says, she’s finishing up.

Finnick spins the nose ring with his thumb, you shove your hands into your pockets to keep from digging your nails into your palm, Thyme rocks back and forth on her feet.

“Which means hardly any days off.” Laurel places the chalk onto the metal stand, and then moves out of the way.

You suck in air through your teeth, eyes going over the list. It’s short, only four rows.

Allio and Ossie.

Thyme and Amos.

Eytelle and Finnick.

You and Trink.

“Oh great, you’re paired with an asshole.” Finnick says, referencing the nickname you two gave Erudite’s on the train here, yesterday. “You’ll get to kick her ass before I do.”

Caspian definitely organized this, Laurel might have had some say in it. You can see the strategy here. Allio and Ossie are similar in height, but different in personality, weight and muscle. Thyme and Amos are both pretty short and scrawny, Eytelle is taller than Finnick, but they’re the only ones close in height. The only reason why you think you’re paired with Trink is because of height.

You look at Caspian, he’s already staring at you. His face is straight for a moment, before his lip twitches into a smirk.

No, you change your mind. Height was a coincidence with her. There’s more behind this, more secretive, and you think it has layers. The first is obvious, this is a gift from Caspian. You told him about his family back home, offering up the information without a single question or prompt from him. You even made it sound like they were part of your family.

The second layer is more subtle. Caspian might not have been great with Abnegation ideals, much like Finnick, but you all have a soft spot for the place you called home for years. Caspian doesn’t like that Erudite is talking shit about Abnegation, but he can’t say anything about it. There’s no question that you don’t like what’s happening either. And since he can’t punch the smug Erudite look off of Trink’s face, you have to.

More or less, you’ll get to defend Abnegation’s honor by kicking Trink’s ass.

This time, Caspian’s wrath isn’t being focused on you. Trink isn’t even going to know what hit her. Well, she will. You’ll be the one hitting her.

You look over at Trink, not being able to hide the smile on your face, “At least you get to pick on someone your own size. Enjoy the challenge while you can.”

Finnick lets out a laugh.

Ossie and Allio meet each other in the center of the white circle. They raise their fists up, and shuffle in a circle like you were taught to. When Allio realizes that Ossie isn’t going to make the first move, he jerks forward to punch her. It was a ruse, Ossie moves out of the way and slams her elbow into the back of his neck.

Okay, maybe Ossie isn’t as weak as you thought she would be. You, Finnick and Thyme watch the way she moves, how easy she’s able to dodge his attacks. Allio is clumsy on his feet, Ossie can dance circles around him, and she practically does, with how quick she moves. However, the moment that Allio gets one good hit on her, she’s down.

She lays on her back, hand spread over her cheek as she grimaces. Her face is turning red, you can’t imagine the tooth pain she’s having at the moment. You all look at Laurel and Caspian to see that they’re unmoving from the board.

“Shouldn’t they call it?” Finnick leans over, whispering.

You tilt your head, “I think we just unlocked a new rule.”

You’re right, Caspian shifts on his feet and lets out an annoyed sigh through his nose, “The fight isn’t over until one of you can’t move!”

“Or you can give up and suffer the consequences.” Judging by the tone of Laurel’s voice, it isn’t much of an option.

This is worse than it was before. You thought that enough punches to Trink’s face would knock her down, and the fight would be over. But if you’re going to be beating each other to near death…

Allio turns back on Ossie, a smile growing on his face. She sees his expression and gets to her feet. Her face is already swelling, you can imagine that there’s going to be a pretty bad bruise on her face tomorrow. She raises her fists again, and goes right back to what she was doing before. Except, she’s clearly trying to piss Allio off. She’ll look like she’s going all in, and then she'll pull back in time for Allio to make a fool of himself.

Her antics get her in trouble, though, because all it takes is one bad move, and Allio grabs a hold of her throat, stopping her in her tracks. She grabs his wrist with one hand, raising her foot to kick him in the stomach with the other. Allio barely flinches, lifts her, and then slams her into the wood ground.

A crack fills the air.

Allio’s heavy breathing is the only thing that you can hear.

When Ossie doesn’t immediately get up, or even turn over, Laurel starts forward. Caspian’s arms are crossed, he watches as she kneels next to Ossie. Her fingers barely touch the floor, and she’s immediately recoiling. Laurel stares down at her hand, and you can see in the light, that it’s shiny.

“He cracked her head open.” you say.

Laurel seems to come to that conclusion too, because she wraps her arm around Ossie’s back, and then under her legs. Laurel rocks back and forth, raising from her shins, to her knees, to her feet. Caspian gives one nod to Laurel before she walks out. Then, she turns towards the chalkboard.

He circles Allio’s name in white.

“Thyme and Amos!” Caspian shouts.

“What about the blood?” Amos asks, moving forward. Thyme is still stuck to the other side of Finnick.

Caspian makes a sound, and it isn’t one of discontent. More that he’s realizing that the blood will end up being a problem. So, he pulls the towel off of the chalkboard stand, and throws it at Amos. Amos barely catches it, stares down at the black towel, and then drops it on the pool of blood. It isn’t much, Ossie had only been laying there for a few seconds. When he’s sure that it’s dried up enough, Amos kicks the towel across the room to get it out of the way.

“I can’t do this.” Thyme says, her voice is quiet.

“You have to.” Finnick gives her a push, “The two of you are practically the same, just use what you learned yesterday.”

It’s easy for Finnick to say that, he’s excited to get put up against Eytelle. You can tell by the way he shifts on his feet, plus the smile hasn’t left his face since he learned that he’d be going up against her. Finnick loves a challenge.

Thyme hangs her head slightly, but joins Amos in the circle. For a moment, they stare at each other, unsure if either of them want to commit to this. Then, Thyme raises her fists, tilts her head, and starts shuffling. Amos follows her, slowly drawing closer.

You bite the nail on your thumb, “So what’s your strategy going to be?”

“Probably going to knock her out as fast as possible. I think it’ll land me directly on top.” Finnick gives you a grin.

“We’re still aiming for a streak?”

“I think we blew it during the gun training.” Finnick laughs, you join in.

Thyme jerks forward, bringing her leg up to slam into Amos’ side.

“What’s your strategy?”

You tilt your head, “Probably going to draw it out as long as possible. It’s my only chance to kick the shit out of an Erudite so I figure that I’ll make the most out of it.”

“I’m sure Caspian and Laurel will be thrilled.”

Amos reaches to grab Thyme’s hair, but she slams her fist straight into his nose. He stumbles back, hands flying to contain the blood that’s beginning to gush out. Amos’ eyes widen, landing on Thyme. She raises her fists, you can see the ghost of a smile..

After this, he continuously backs away from Thyme. She doesn’t look like she’s bothered by this, she just keeps getting closer. And the moment he’s within arms reach, is the moment he messed up. She jumps at him, grabbing his shirt, which hangs off his body loosely. You bet that he didn’t bother to go out and get a new shirt or clothes last night. Hopefully this will teach him a lesson. That he’s easily grabbable when the clothes don’t fit.

She yanks Amos forward, spins him around and sweeps a foot out from beneath him. Amos hits the ground almost as hard as Ossie did, but he’s still conscious. Thyme raises her foot, kicking Amos in the ribs. He groans, one arm flying to protect the spot, while the other goes to catch her new kick.

She changes her mind last second, dropping to her knees and raising her fist so quickly that it’s a blur. Amos raises his arms to protect his face, so she settles for a dead-on hit to his chest. You let out a groan, feeling the ache in your own chest. Amos wheezes, Thyme punches him in the face. Over and over.

The sounds coming from Amos are less than pleasant.

“That’s going to be you.” Finnick says.

“Yeah?” you ask, but don’t say anything else.

You don’t even want to know if he means that you’re going to be Thyme, or if you’re going to be Amos. Although, you’re not really sure that it matters. Either you’ll lose yourself to the fight, or you’re going to get the shit kicked out of you.

Thyme falls back on her heels, rubbing her bloody knuckles. She lifts the end of her shirt, all eyes fall on Caspian to see what he has to say. He stares at Amos for a little, Thyme pushes herself to her feet.

“Get him out of the ring.” Caspian finally says, circling Thyme’s name.

Allio and Thyme work together, getting Amos upright. He doesn’t stay on his feet for long, as soon as he’s out of the circle, he’s sitting on the floor. He’s sniffing, which might be from him crying, or it might be him trying to get his nose to stop bleeding. You’re not sure if it really matters which one it is.

“Eytelle and Finnick.” Caspian motions.

There’s no blood to clean up this time. You give Finnick a firm pat on the back, “Kick some ass.”

Thyme stands next to you, her fingers massaging the skin over her knuckles. If she thinks it hurts now, it’s only going to feel worse tomorrow. Not to mention, if you’re going to be doing this multiple times for evaluation, all of your knuckles are going to be split and sore. You can’t imagine the amount of injuries you’ll experience during initiation

You’re going for none, but it’s not all that realistic.

Finnick cracks his knuckles, the smile on his face disappears, “You know, I’ve never fought a Candor before. They always whine like bitches.” he raises his fists, “So tell me, are you going to cry?”

Eytelle isn’t amused, she raises her fists, “I’m taller than you.”

“You think height matters?” Finnick’s face darkens, “It’s a matter of experience.”

And he has too much for a former Abnegation member.

Finnick bounces on his toes, watching the way Eytelle moves. She’s clearly eager, moving forward. But the moment he goes to match her, she seems to back down. She’s wary. You guess that she’s taking Finnick’s word for it all, which isn’t a bad idea. You think that you’d rather take the word of the other person just to be safe. Then again, it could make you be overly cautious in the end.

There’s only so much dancing that Finnick can take. He stops letting Eytelle take the initiative and starts moving at her like a shark. Because of the smooth way he moves, you can’t tell what he’s going to do next. He could punch her, or kick her, or jump at her. He doesn’t twitch. This is the side of Finnick that you’re always so amazed at.

All of his moves are calculated. He’ll move right, and appear on the left. He slams his fist into the shoulder she favors more. She winces, rolling the shoulder to get feeling back in it. When she holds up her hands, it’s awkward now. Finnick strikes again, this time going for her upper arm, which falls completely limp.

It’ll be hard to punch him if she can’t feel the arm at all.

Eytelle goes to punch with her left hand anyway. Finnick catches her wrist, twisting her arm at a painful angle. Finnick pulls her closer, and slams his fist right across her jaw. Her head jerks backward, a gurgle sound leaving her throat. Finnick does it again, much harder this time. It’s enough to make her knees buckle.

He lets go of her, letting her hit the floor. Eytelle doesn’t move.

Finnick wipes his hands off on his jeans, and then fixes his hair. You’d say that this fight lasted less than five minutes. Faster than Ossie and Allio, and faster than Thyme and Amos. When it’s your turn, you’re going to make sure it’s painful.

Caspian goes ahead and circles Finnick’s name.

A couple of seconds later, Eytelle groans, which means that no one will have to drag her out of the ring, but Allio and Trink go to help her anyway. Eytelle vaguely complains about being dizzy, so she sits on the floor too, hand placed over her jaw.

The door on the far side of the room opens to reveal Laurel. She comes in without Ossie, so you figure that she’s either with some sort of doctor. Normally, hospitals are far away, but it’s Dauntless. They have to have someone closeby, especially with the cave that they live in.

She stands in her spot by the chalkboard.

“(Y/n) and Trink.”

Finnick grabs your arm, turning you away from the circle to speak, “You probably remember, but keep an eye on the way she moves. She’s also Erudite, so she’s got a hundred strategies or whatever.”

He straightens up, “Alright, good luck, wreak havoc.”

You snort. On the way to the circle, you crack everything that you can think of. Fingers, neck, knuckles. You stretch your muscles next, shoulders, wrist, knees and ankles. You’ve only fought someone else once. Once.

“Scared?” Trink asks, she lets a lock of her blonde hair fall black into place.

You bend your knees back and forth, raising your fists, “Don’t need to be. I know a couple of things myself.”

You give her a smirk.

Trink raises her fists, “You’re bluffing.”

“We’ll see.”

In Abnegation, Finnick was always the one to get physical with people he didn’t like at the school. Most of the time, he wouldn’t immediately turn to fighting. But if the situation kept getting worse, and the person didn’t notice all the warning signs that were coming from him, he’d resort to it easily. Corner them in the hallway, and tell them that if they want to run their mouth, then they can reap what they sow. People were always stupid enough to see what he meant.

You said that the rules of fighting were simple, and the first one was to always make sure that there were no witnesses. Except, Finnick would always bring you. You would be his alibi if he needed it, and the excuse would automatically be a factionless man needing help, that’s why you were late getting home. You only used the excuse once.

So, you’ll have to say that you’ve seen Finnick fight many times. You’ve watched the way he throws punches, the way he holds himself with confidence. How he’ll never give away his moves before he does them. It’s like they’re all thought out beforehand. He doesn’t want to drag a fight on, there’s only so much time the excuse can cover. In watching him, you’ve learned a lot.

Eventually, an opportunity of your own sprouted, and it happened right after your father died, which was only a couple of months after your mother had passed. Mox had just switched to Amity, so that was buzzing around. And an Erudite girl caught whiff of the problems that were being kicked up in your house. You don’t know how she found out any of it, but whoever told her was a fucking asshole.

The girl started with talking shit about Abnegation, about how the faction raised your brother to be weak, and that’s why he couldn’t say. You weren’t bothered by this, you had already grown used to not speaking about Mox. You wouldn’t break your streak just because some girl thought it would be fun to start talking shit. Even Finnick didn’t think that it was worth worrying over. The two of you thought she would stop.

But then her focus shifted to your father.

In Abnegation, you are supposed to serve the people around you. In the eyes of the faction, your father died a death that was noble. It was not through war, but in a moment of kindness, of a helping hand. Your father had stopped to help one of the factionless, and in turn, they killed him.

They never found the killer.

The Erudite girl was right in thinking that it would get a quick reaction out of you, because it did. Finnick was the one who told the girl where to meet you. All you did was go out there and wait, with Finnick leaned up against some tree in the shade.

Before she arrived, you had no intention of actually fighting her. You were going to tell her to knock it the fuck off before she did something she would regret. Then she showed up with this smug ass look on her face, and all reason washed away from your body at once.

Unlike Finnick, you only needed to fight once.

You left the girl bloody and swollen, laying in the middle of the grass, barely able to keep her eyes open. For a moment, you stood over her body, staring down at her, wondering if anything really needed to be said. But your actions spoke for themself, that she had picked a fight she couldn’t win. You left her there, walked home with Finnick, and the next day at school, you didn’t see her.

In all honesty, you never had trouble with anyone after that, either.

There’s a big difference between now and then, though. Then, you were pissed and you had a great reason to be. Now, you’re fighting just because someone is telling you.

No, you have a good reason now, too. You don’t want to be factionless. Trink is one of the many obstacles standing in your way to becoming a member of Dauntless. You think that’s a good enough reason.

You bounce from side to side, feeling the burn in your calves. Finnick said that Trink would have a thousand strategies thought up because she’s Erudite. But you’re part Erudite too, you could have qualified if you wanted to. So, in order to win this, you need to think like she does, even more so than usual.

You told her you know a few things yourself, she’s going to assume that you learned from Finnick, or the two of you often work together when it comes to fights. Which is wrong. Finnick likes his fights to be clean cuts, the faster he knocks out his opponent, the faster he can do something else. It’s also a display of dominance, one hit and his victim falls. The person is never stupid enough to come back twice.

Finnick let Eytelle start the fight. So, you will be the one to start this.

You move forward, letting the smile go. You need to focus.

Trink shuffles, her left hand is raised higher than the right. She’s left handed, which means you shouldn’t focus on her right. It also looks like she was suffering the same problem that you were before Laurel corrected you. Her hands are too high.

You keep moving closer, trying to keep your eyes on her face as much as you can. All you have to do is throw a punch at her left hand. It’ll smack her in the face, and then you can really get the show started.

Trink’s right leg twitches.

You jump back in time for it to barely miss you. Change of plans. You grab a hold of her leg, push it up, and swing down low enough to catch her other foot. She loses her balance, hands slapping onto the wood. She doesn’t say down long enough for you to kick her, right back onto her feet.

Her hands are back into place.

You launch at her, punching her hands. Her head knocks back briefly, you squeeze your fists tighter. She goes to retaliate, you block, and then swing your fist straight into her jaw. You’ve got to go harder than this. This isn’t bringing her down. She stumbles back, hands already going back to where they were before.

Trink moves quickly, you’re not able to catch her hands in time. One second, she’s slow, the next there’s an explosion across your nose. Pain prickles across your entire face, making your face feel like it’s a hundred degrees. And then there’s a gushing feeling.

You want to call a time-out as you back up, fingers finding your nose. You plead that it’s not broken, because you won’t be able to handle a crooked nose. It’ll throw you off beat. You’re lucky, because you find that it’s tender, your piercing is still in-tact, and the liquid rushing from your nose is obviously blood. It’s not enough to make you worry, only slightly distracting. You think that the piercing wound is contributing to the problem.

You wipe under your nose, and fling the blood towards the floor, lifting your hands up again. She’ll have to try harder than this to upset you.

There’s a couple of spots that you’re sure would get back at her. Her ribs, her nose, her teeth, her jaw, her eyes. You know that anything to her ear or the side of her head will immediately be enough for her to pause. You just need a way to get there. An opening.

Trink moves towards you now, and you let her. You’re not afraid of her punching you again. You want her to try. You keep where you are, only shuffling in the circle. One step closer, and then another. She could swing if she really wanted to. She must be going for something else. You’re not sure what, but does it really matter?

She barely brings her hand down. You dodge the attack, and then your hand hits her cheek bone. And then her jaw. She pushes you off of her, you bring your knee into her side, sweep her feet, and let her fall. You bring your foot back, hitting her stomach, and then her ribs. She’s not on her back just yet, not open enough for you to be on top of her.

Fine.

You swing your foot up towards her face, she’s not able to catch it in time.

Her head flies back, shoulders hitting the wooden floor.

The Erudite girl you fought a while back was in much worse condition than this.

The fight isn’t over. Trink brings herself to her elbows, eyes on your face, squinting. Her vision must be blurry. Unfortunately for her, it’s about to get so much worse. She’s still kicking, which means that you need to be too.

You slam your foot into her side, and then sit on top of her hips. You bring your fist up, watching the blood from your nose land onto her chin. Payback. First is her nose, bleeding. Next is straight to her mouth. After is her cheek, settling for a black eye. She goes to punch up once, aiming for your throat. You grab her arm and twist.

“Give up.” you tell her, twisting harder, “Give up!”

Her face is twisted in pain, mouth open as she pants. When you force it harder, she lets out a scream.

Half her body is twisted one way, her cheek pressed against the wooden floor. The other arm is pinned behind her, she wouldn’t be able to get it, even if she tried. You’ve got the upper hand.

You curl your hand into a fist, eyes landing on her temple, “Well, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

Your fist hits the side of her head hard enough for your knuckles to feel like they’ve broken. The tension falls from Trink’s body, you let go of her arm. When you get to your feet, your immediate focus is your nose and the blood coming from it. You squeeze the bridge, tilting your head back slightly.

One look at Caspian, and he’s giving you a nod of approval. He circles your name.

You head toward Finnick and Thyme. In order from most to least damaged, you’re most, Thyme is in the middle, Finnick is least. There’s not a single scratch on him.

Before you can say anything, Finnick’s directing your chin up so that he can examine your face. You watch his eyebrows draw in, “Doesn’t look like it’s broken.”

“It hurts to move, obviously.” you say, “I think the piercing isn’t helping.”

“Probably not.” Finnick lets you free, “It could be worse, the stud could’ve ripped your nose open.”

You give him a smile.

“You were really good.” Thyme says, she’s still playing with her hands.

“Yeah, congrats!” Finnick grins, “Tapped into your raw power, huh?”

“That, and I’ve got a problem with Erudite’s.”

When you turn around to look, Trink is just barely turning over, a hiss leaving her lips. She presses her open hand to the side of her head and closes her eyes. Now her friends go to collect her. With Allio slinging one of Trink’s arms over his shoulder. Trink can hardly keep upright, leaning into him heavily.

Amos is finally on his feet, his nose no longer bleeding. Eytelle is still nursing her jaw, and you catch the glare that she’s giving Finnick. You crack up, elbow Finnick, and then jerk your head in their direction. Finnick looks too, and you can hear a snort come from him.

“Something tells me that they’re mad.”

“Yeah? What gave that away?”

“I don’t know, maybe the bruises forming on their faces?” Finnick suggests.

Caspian claps his hands, “The rest of the day is yours! See you bright and early for fighting tomorrow morning!”

You grab a hold of Finnick’s sleeve for a second, “I’m going to talk to Caspian. I’ll catch up.”

“We’ll wait for you outside of the door.” he wiggles his eyebrows, “No promises that I won’t eavesdrop.”

You roll your eyes, pushing him.

You watch as everyone slowly leaves the room, except for Laurel and Caspian, who still stand at the chalkboard. When the door shuts, concealing the last person, you finally speak, partially ignoring Laurel.

“You couldn’t have made it more obvious, you know.”

Caspian stares at you for a moment, “The proper response would be ‘thank you’.”

“I don’t need your help.” you snap, “And I don’t want it, either. I can take care of myself. I’m just letting you know that your hatred for Erudite’s is a clear sign that you’re still attached to Abnegation.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t need him to.

You turn and leave the training room, the door sweeping shut behind you. Like promised, Finnick and Thyme are waiting for you in the hallway. They’re talking about who they might be paired up with tomorrow. You can start your guessing now, but you’d rather worry about it tomorrow.

“How was it?” Finnick asks.

You give him a shrug, not really in the mood. You already knew that Caspian giving Trink to you was a gift, but you didn’t think that he’d demand a thanks. What an asshole. It’s been five years and he still hasn’t changed. You need to keep him at a distance.

Finnick doesn’t nag you, but judging by the look he gives you, he won’t be letting this go. You can expect him to ask about it later, which you actually prefer. At least then you’ll be cooled down enough. Plus, you’re not too entirely sure you want Thyme entering your business just yet. It’s been two and a half days.

You wonder how Reed and Alyssum are coping.

Actually, you don’t think you have to wonder.

Alyssum has noticed the difference, she’s three, which means she’s old enough to comprehend the fact that you’re not there. In fact, she might have even asked Reed where you’ve gone, no doubt earning some sort of stern glare from him, trying to silence her. The problem is, she’s still little, she doesn’t understand it to that extent.

You’re sure that no one has mentioned you, in courtesy of Reed. Abnegation is all for not inconveniencing others, and bringing up an event that’s usually frowned upon is like reminding the person of the stain on their family’s reputation. It’s two-timing now, too. First it was Mox, and now you.

Naida might be talking about it with Reed. As far as you can remember, before your parents died, he wasn’t a naturally curious person. This is why he’s a good fit for Abnegation, he’ll take the orders he’s given, and just do it without question. Volunteer work, a government job if he was elected, whatever Abnegation might want him to do. However, this doesn’t mean that he hasn’t turned to Naida to ask her questions. To see if she saw it coming at all.

She’s a mother of five, she’s raised two kids so far that have switched factions. She must have picked up on the mannerisms somehow. Calandra, her oldest, went to Erudite. Normally that would mean she was showing signs of high intelligence, especially in high school. She might not have been able to bring books home to continue her studies in the comfort of her own bedroom, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be in the honor classes in high school.

You think you vaguely remember that being the case for her. Honestly, you weren’t really paying attention to her because she’s not your direct family. Of course, you would sometimes see her during holidays or dinners with her entire family before and after your parents were still alive. You really only began paying attention after she left, she was the first person you knew from everyday life that transferred. The second person was Caspian, who obviously ended up in Dauntless.

At this point, you think that Naida might have seen something in your interactions, but chose not to say anything because you probably confused her. You aren’t all Abnegation, you aren’t all Dauntless, and you definitely aren’t all Erudite. You showed traits from all three, two of which, her own children had shown signs of too.

Now that you’re thinking about that, you think that might be a problem, considering that if being Divergent is supposed to be dangerous, you were giving her mixed signals for years. And you might not have known the terminology for what you are exactly, but that doesn’t mean that all the adults in your life don’t. Reed and Naida, and Amon probably do. Amon more than anybody because he’s involved in the Abnegation government.

You think that this is the extent of Reed’s curiosity, though. He might be wondering if he could have spotted the signs earlier, and if Naida tells him anything--if he even asked--then he’ll try to do better with Alyssum. Since Reed is one of the Abnegation members that fully believe in Abnegation’s faction supremacy.

As for missing you, there might be another spot in his heart that’s empty. You think that if Reed had known that both of your parents would die, he wouldn’t have stayed in Abnegation to be responsible for the teenagers and kids that would eventually leave him. The thing is, he’s not the only person that this happens to. Parents in Abnegation have this happen to them all the time, especially when they only have one kid. It’s not really preventable.

Your mother’s death was unfortunate, modern medicine couldn’t save her. Your father’s death was accidental, as he was just helping someone like he used to do all the time on his walk home from work.

Reed could be regretting all the times he was too harsh on you. You think that you inherited the overthinking from him. He always sits in silence, so any questions must make him hesitant, but his actions can’t show that. And since you’ve always been forced into silence, not allowed to ask questions, you’ve been left to make up scenarios of what possible outcomes could be.

In this case, Reed might be eligible for Erudite. He has been taught not to ask questions, which would make him more prone to curiosity. Then again, he fits in too well into Abnegation to be just Erudite alone…

Does divergence run in the family?

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

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ijustwant2write · 5 years ago

Text

Team Work-Eggsy Unwin x Reader

(GIF credit to @zhivchik)

Tags: @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @elliexo

Requested by @lula132: ‘Hey! Could I request an imagine where reader and Eggsy (Kingsman) break up and they're sad and stuff, so the rest of the agents try to get them back together,please?’

Characters: Eggsy Unwin x Reader, Harry Hart x Reader (platonic), Merlin x Reader (platonic), Roxy x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Sadness, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Agent Percival, the files please?” Merlin grabbed my attention, making me snap out of my daydream.

“Oh, uh...y-yes the files...they’re...” I scrambled through the folders, hands shaking as I felt the embarrassment creep up inside me.“They’re not here.“

Merlin sighed, leaning back in his chair. It was just the two of us. I had been doing extra surveillance work, helping Merlin gather evidence before they fully went whoever they were after. But life hadn’t been so easy at the minute, and although work should come first for everything, it was hard to focus on even the simplest of tasks.

“I’m so sorry Merlin. I’ll go and get them straight away.” I stood up.

“Wait,” Merlin gestured for me to sit back down,“sit down for a moment, compose yourself.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Yes you do. We all do.” he typed away at his computer again.

“I shouldn’t be so upset over it. It was both our decision.”

“Neither of you wanted to go through with it.”

I pursed my lips, twirling around the pen in my hand. He was right. Eggsy and I had broken up, thrown a spanner into the works. We pretended it was a well thought out decision, but it was in the moment, in that one argument we had that we were both screaming at each other, tears streaming down our faces. Neither of us had been the same since. Always so tense, constantly trying to avoid one another in the hallways, praying that we didn’t get signed onto the same mission. All of the team were effected, making me feel guilty. I didn’t want them to have to witness this, it was humiliating; we should be professional about this, but once you’ve found that person who you love more than you thought you ever could, it was extremely hard to let them go.

The next day, I had told myself that I would be organised, I would get my work done, and I wouldn’t let down anymore of my friends. I had my folders, with the files inside, I had decided to make an effort with my look that day, and I had a confident stride.

“(Y/N), I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in two weeks!” Roxy exclaimed as I stepped inside, already making her way towards me.

I just smiled in return, though it wasn’t like my usual self.

"I've been put on the case with you, so you're stuck with me today."

"Oh thank god." I breathed out.

"You seem very relieved."

We made our way to one of the many offices, needing to brief each other."Did it really sound like that?"

She nodded."I don't think it would have been that bad if you two were on a case together."

"Are you joking?" I scoffed as I shut the door behind us. We sat down next to each other at a table, laying down our folders."The last time we tried to have a conversation...Well it turned into an argument pretty quickly."

"All I'm saying is that you're both just as miserable as each other." she paused."He's not being allowed out in the field."

"What?! But he's one of the best."

"Too emotionally unstable, that's what Harry said."

"He wouldn't let that get the best of him."

"Apparently it has...which is why you're not going out either."

"What?!" I raised my voice.

"Harry thinks it'll be best, for both of your safety. You might make rash decisions."

I groaned, flopping back further into the chair."What's going on in my personal life should have nothing to do with my work."

"But it does. Kingsman is your life, it's everything. That why it worked out so well for you and Eggsy. You understood each others lives and they molded into one."

"See how you used the past tense there?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

I abruptly stood."Look, you get started with this and I'll get us some tea."

"(Y/N), we don't need-"

I didn't hear the end of her sentence, slamming the door shut to make a point. Various agents walked by, but I ignored them, not sure where to head. Roxy was only trying to help, but I didn't like other people getting involved. And now they wouldn't let me do my job? It was bullshit.

Countless nights I had laid awake thinking about him, wondering what would have happened if we never argued. Perhaps a more adult conversation wouldn't have landed us here. I missed him so much. He was on my mind constantly. I could only hope he felt the same, because that meant that some small part of him still loved me.

"Agent Percival? A word." I heard Harry call.

Shit.

Following him into one of the meeting rooms, I felt shaky as he closed the door, walking all the way to the end of the long table, I on the other side. He didn't sit, instead holding onto the chair in front of him.

"Percival, it has come to my attention that you have not had the best concentration over the last fortnight. I've had numerous complaints that you are behind on work, losing important information, and that your negative attitude is starting to have an effect on others."

Being so vulnerable, I bit the inside of my cheek to stop my lip trembling, breathing deeply through my nose to calm myself down. I wasn't going to cry, I wasn't going to cry, I wasn't going to cry.

"All I have to say is this."

Here it comes.

"Come in."

Not what I was expecting.

The door behind me opened, and I froze as Eggsy walked in. He too stopped walking until Harry instructed us to sit in the chairs either side of him. I couldn't believe he was here, after all this time of avoiding him.

"You will both sit here and discuss the problem at hand. You both know your true feelings, so stop suppressing them. As soon as you have fixed this, you can leave this room, whether you are back together or not.”

Eggsy moaned.“Harry-”

“Only when this is resolved.”

With that, Harry swiftly left the room, closing the door and starting the silence. Eggsy and I avoided looking at each other, the uneasiness building up. I glanced at him, lucky that his gaze was somewhere else; I could feel myself crumbling as I took in his face, having not seen it for weeks. I was a trained agent, I was supposed to be amazing under pressure, yet here I was. This was different, this was personal, he was my boyfriend, and I wanted him to be mine again.

"So..." I breathed out.

"So..." he copied.

I couldn’t hold it back anymore, blurting everything out, not caring that I looked like an idiot.

"Eggsy, I miss you. I've not been right since...since that night. I miss seeing you lying next to me in bed, hitting you with a pillow if you snore. And that wonderful feeling of seeing you after one of us comes back from a mission, the relief that washes over me when you're in one piece. But my work has been effected massively, and I can't concentrate anymore. It's actually scary how much we were a part of each others lives."

"I miss you too." Eggsy breathed out."I knew this would happen, and yet I didn't stop it. I don't know why we did this."

"We thought it would be easier, better. If we stayed together and someone...got hurt or died, it would lessen the pain. But I think it's had the opposite effect."

"What were we thinking? Better to have spent all that time together than to waste it. We're such idiots."

"So, what shall we do about it? Harry said we can't leave until it's sorted."

He reached his hand across to me, taking my own and squeezing it. That gorgeous smile spread across his face, a twinkle in his eye which I hadn't seen for ages. I hadn't looked at his face properly for weeks, and I wanted to slap myself for it.

"I think we both know the answer."

"Leave it in the past?"

He nodded."Like it never happened."

Instinctively, we raised out of our seats, leaning across the table to kiss. I stupidly thought it was going to be short and sweet (save the passion for later), giggling through the kiss as he deepened it. As I got excited for it to go further, we heard squabbling coming from outside the door. Smirking at each other, we rounded the table, putting our ears to the door.

"I told you, less then ten minutes!" Roxy snapped.

Merlin scoffed."I don't recall making any bets."

"They still haven't come out yet Roxy, you don't know what's going on in there." Harry stated.

"That sounds like you are implying something else that I don't want to think about."

Eggsy pulled me away from the door."I mean, Harry did say don't come out until it's resolved..."

I pulled at his tie."At work? Really Eggsy?"

"Well, it's the only place we haven't done it."

"Better tick it off the list then."

#eggsy unwin #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin imagines #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin one shot #harry hart #harry hart imagine #merlin #merlin imagine #roxy #roxy imagine #kingsman #kingsman imagine #kingsman imagines #kingsman x reader #kingsman one shot

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nintendylan64 · 3 years ago

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My problems with FNAF Lore

Hey guys. I felt like I wanted to explain my problems with the FNAF lore, and how the lore was ruined for me years ago.

My history with the franchise and the lore Now, I discovered the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise back in 2014 through DanTDM's Let's Play of Five Nights at Freddy's 2. It was the first time I had ever been introduced to the jumpscares and characters in-game. But I actually discovered the first game through a YTP someone made of it. With how little I knew from discovering that YTP, I assumed that Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy were anthropomorphic animals that ran the place, and that Freddy just liked to leave scary stuff in his office because he was a horror guy. That assumption was way off and DanTDM's Let's Play let me discover that the antagonists weren't anthropomorphic animals. I then discovered Markiplier's videos on the games in 2014, and fan-animations of the games like SMG4's Freddy's Spaghettiria series, and Piemations' 5 AM at Freddy's series. Besides the surprising jumpscares, what really got me hooked on the FNAF series was the 80s-90s aesthetics, and the lore behind it all. Around late 2014 and early 2015, I had discovered the hidden lore series by MrCreepyPasta, which was what got me interested in exploring the lore. I loved the FNAF lore when it was just, "Man kills 5 kids in pizzeria joint and the animatronics become haunted by the spirits of the kids". This made it feel much more realistic, as murder of kids in a place like this can happen in real life. The fact that the staff weren't behind any of it, and that the guards were originally just some average joes who got hired for a night guard position without knowing the dangers of it was also very realistic too. And the inclusion of another tragic event known as the "Bite of '87" was also interesting. But the biggest thing that made the lore have a charm to it, was how there was an implied history of Fazbear Entertainment, and FNAF 2 showed us the history of the place before the tragedies happened, as well as implying that the negative impression was stuck before the murders was also interesting. The lore was interesting back then because of how realistic and mysterious it was. And when the third game came out, it was a great conclusion to the franchise, in which the killer got his comeuppance, leaving the kid's souls to rest in peace. And the killer haunting the suit he died in as an attempt to escape his torment of being trapped in a suit, eventually leaving him to be burned alive in the location he was at was a very nice way to end things. But the way it had expanded on the story by taking place thirty years after the events of the first game, with the unsolved mysteries of Fazbear Entertainment trying to be recreated by people was a good way to expand upon the story. So basically, I prefer the FNAF lore when it was the story of how kids were murdered in a pizzeria joint, and how they eventually got revenge on their killer, while room was made to show us how the pizzeria joint handled this, and how the alleged hauntings were shown through the animatronics being possessed. Because of the lore being so interesting, I tried making up my own timelines to tie the story of the first three games together. And seeing as how the lore was concluded, it should've just ended there, right? Well... it didn't.

Where the problems crept in I think that the problems with the lore crept in with the fourth game. Now, this game could've had potential, as it could've taken place in the location where the withered animatronics were used in before FNAF 2, but it didn't do that. We got instead a child suffering through nightmares, with animatronics that have particularly stupid designs. Plus, what made it worse was that the Bite of 83 was introduced, making the topic of the Bite of'87 confusing since it was implied it happened in the second game, but now it was happening in the fourth game? But then it was revealed to be a separate event, why two separate events of the same thing? What constitutes the idea of establishing a similar event to the Bite of '87? It had nothing to impact the games itself at all. The bigger thing that was confusing is this, Fredbear's Family Diner was implied to have been closed for longer than 1983-1987, and the fact that you see the unwithered versions of the withered animatronics in Fredbear's makes it all the more confusing, since Fredbear's was established as a separate, and early location before it was later re-enfranchised as Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. So why retcon what was established in the previous games? Why not just show us in the fourth game what happened with the withered animatronics before they became withered, and then make a fifth game that took place in Fredbear's Family Diner? I don't know why Scott felt the need to retcon things, especially since most people thought that the franchise had already ended with the third game. Later on down the line, Sister Location came out in 2016. And I honestly hate Sister Location, lore-wise that is. The reason I say this is because Sister Location fucked up everything more than the 4th game. This time, there was more retconning, the horror tone and 80s-90s aesthetic was gone, the game felt like Sci-fi and less like the older games. Worse, Purple Guy was given an actual name, and turned from a cold-blooded killer that killed kids because of being a psychopath, into a mad scientist obsessed with placing souls into animatronics using soul juice in an attempt to create murderous animatronics, and he killed kids to do this, but most of them were his own or his friend's kids, Fazbear Entertainment was actually started by this maniac, and Mike Schmidt from FNAF 1 was no longer an average joe working a night shift job, but instead the son of the killer and later became an unrealistic purple zombie that somehow got hired for night shift positions. Jeremy and Fritz were no longer average joes either, and were now aliases for the purple zombie who's actual name was Michael Afton, making Mike Schmidt another alias for this zombie. And now, this was more about a family that was insane to begin with trying to put their own personal demons to rest, rather than the story of the murder of 5 children in a pizzeria joint, and the killer gets his comeuppance while the faceless pizzeria chain tried keep its reputation afloat, eventually failing which lead to the closure of it. All of this shattered how I interpreted the lore. The biggest things that Sister Location fucked up were the following. 1. Taking away the 80s/90s aesthetic. In the first and second game, the game has an 80s and 90s aesthetic with the looks of the locations and decor, as well as the camera sounds sounding like cassette tapes, and the first took place in the early 90s, while the second took place in the late 80s. FNAF 3 kept the 80s/90s aesthetic, and I'd argue FNAF 4 kept the old aesthetic too, such as how old everything looked in FNAF 3, and how the house looks particularly old in FNAF 4. FNAF SL's aesthetics look way too futuristic for a FNAF game, especially since it's said to take place before the first 4 games. 2. Making it more sci-fi. The original FNAF games, and the fourth one were meant to be horror games, and they established this greatly with audio and visual cues, as well as the storyline having a horror-esque feel to it during the first 3 games, and even the 4th game kept. The focus on sci-fi traits or elements in SL kind of kills the horror-esque feel that FNAF originally gave off, especially the whole soul juice and mad scientist part. 3. Making Fazbear Entertainment have an owner. Fazbear Entertainment should've just been left as a faceless corporation that had nothing to do with the murders, the type of company to try and cover up the damage done to their reputation by cutting costs or not batting an eye when a man kills children in their restaurant. 4. Making Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz into aliases. It doesn't make any sense as to why a company would hire a foul smelling zombie who kept changing his name. I think that Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz should've just been average joes that got night guard positions not knowing that their jobs were dangerous and not knowing the hauntings of the pizzeria they applied to work for. And 5. The Afton Family. The Afton Family completely ruined the idea of the children being killed at Freddy's by an unknown man, since now it's just about a family killing his own for a dumb mad science experiment and the son is trying to stop his own father, making it so you no longer play as an average joe that discovers the dark secrets and hauntings of a pizzeria joint, but instead you're just playing as a zombie that needs to kill his own father in order to stop his father from killing anyone else. Seriously, it feels less like a horror game, and now feels more like a badly written self-insert sci-fi story with some bit of horror mixed in. The FNAF series is way too complicated to figure out now due to loads of retconning and unnecessary changes made to the story. Worse, the Nightmare, Funtime, and other animatronics that have been added to the franchise just seems like an excuse for Scott to just add new characters simply to keep the franchise going. Now, let's look at a FNAF fan-game series with a better written story.

Five Nights at Candy's Five Nights at Candy's has a much easier to understand story than FNAF. In the first game, you play as a female night guard at a burger joint where an unfortunate incident occurred between an animatronic and a customer, and an incident involving two kids at the factory where the animatronics were made. The backstory of everything, such as the original location and the burger joint's opening are explained in FNAC 3, showing how two unfortunate incidents at the puppet/animatronic theatre led to the closure of the place. We also learn more about the main character from the first game, and the one who caused the murders as well as the victims. In the second game, everything is concluded with the daughter of the guard solving the mysteries of the old factory. The reason is because Emil Macko managed to actually tell the story in an effective way, without retconning anything and without relying entirely on twists and misdirection.

Conclusion So yeah, I can't stand FNAF lore post-FNAF 4, because of how it became way too confusing to understand, and with how the series started retconning tons of things and making unnecessary changes. And it's amazing how a FNAF fan-game was able to tell its story better than the actual FNAF fan-games. So for me, I'm sticking with the FNAF 1-3 lore, which is my interpretation of it. Before I end this blog though, what's annoying is that no matter if you mention the FNAF 1-3 lore on YouTube, people will instantly start bringing in the modern FNAF lore and correct you, even if you're following you're headcanon.

#fnaf #rant #random rant

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kerra-and-company · 4 years ago

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spiral

The first three months after Zhaitan’s defeat. (Or, the story of how the person widely considered “the best at emotions” was once absolutely horrible at managing her own.)

Warnings: depression, self-harm (in a very Kerra-specific way), feeling worthless, cognitive distortions (Kerra gets an idea into her head that is just...inaccurate)

Word count: 4466

I’ve been trying to work on this fic for a while, and it’s been really hard because Kerra’s my OC whose mental health issues are closest to my own. But it’s done now, and I’m sure it’s not perfect, but I’m proud of it, and it means a lot to me. So, here you go; hopefully this speaks to someone else, too.

(and @mystery-salad because forever ago you mentioned that you’d be interested in seeing this fic concept if I ever wrote it!)

It happened in the span of a single moment.

Trahearne had finally, finally joined the party. Rel had gotten his lute from who knows where and was taking song requests. Destiny’s Edge was talking and laughing, and she even saw Caithe smile. Everywhere Kerra looked, her friends and the rest of the Pact were drinking, chatting, relaxing, or dancing.

And, for once, no one was watching her.

So she tilted her head back, letting the sun and confetti (who brought confetti?) cover her face, giggling at the unfamiliar touch of colorful paper scraps. She spun around, arms outstretched and eyes closed and, miraculously, managing not to hit anyone.

It was pure, utter joy combined with I’m done, I did what I was made for, I’m done and I can just be me—

Kill the dragon.

Kerra stumbled. That couldn’t be right. Zhaitan was dead, and her Hunt was—

Kill the dragon, her mind insisted.

The world didn’t stop. It would have been easier if it had. Instead, the celebration continued, with laughter and Rel’s music as omnipresent noise.

It took everything in her not to scream.

****

The Pact wanted to lift her up on a pedestal for what she’d done. And she didn’t deserve it, so she had to leave.

She wrote notes to each of her friends and left them near their things, going mostly unnoticed as she slipped out of the party. Thank you for everything you’ve done, she said. I am going to where I can help the most, and that’s not here right now. I’ll come back.

I love you.

****

Her first stop was Caledon.

Cern was pleased to see her and told her stories of his new recruits taking down a particularly large troll in the swamps. Tatli and Cueyatl welcomed her into the Hazupl camp, and a few sylvari were there, too, talking to the hylek young. Llew gave her updates on Astorea—the defenses were holding, though Nightmare Court attacks had increased of late.

The only place she stayed overnight, though, was the Weeping Isle. Eona hugged her, congratulated her, and asked after Rel. She gave bare-bones information, took care of some wave riders, and fell asleep in the same guest room she’d taken earlier that year.

In her dreams, she walked a bloody battlefield, utterly alone. She saw so many dead faces, along with the living who mourned their losses. With each one she spotted, a memory flashed. Minei and Cio screaming and fighting to get back into the fortress on Claw Island. Ceera calling her “Commander of death.” Elli’s expression as she tore into the Risen marksman. Tybalt imploring her to trust him. Trahearne asking the Pale Tree for forgiveness as they closed the gate to Fort Trinity. The hate in Tiachren’s eyes slowly turning to fear as he died.

And above it all, the incessant drumbeat of this is your fault, your fault, your fault. You were Commander and this wasn’t what you were meant for and so every death is on your head and yours alone because you made a mistake. You pursued the wrong Hunt, and you will look at what you’ve done.

The land and the bodies went up in smoke, and she welcomed the flames even as she burned, too.

Come morning, Eona found Kerra’s bed neatly made and the Commander herself long gone.

****

In Kessex, the bandits put a price on her head.

In Sparkfly, the krait learned to flee from her on sight.

In Brisban, the Inquest cursed her as their labs exploded.

Sometimes, those she helped asked for her name. She began introducing herself as Lin. It felt…maybe not right, but right-adjacent, and it gave her a sense of distance.

Sometimes, they asked her to stay—an asuran krewe who appreciated her particular brand of dragon expertise, a rough-edged gladium who saw a kindred spirit, and a small human boy who watched her train the Claypool militia with wide eyes, to name a few.

She never stayed more than a few days. It tore her apart each time.

She slept less and less.

****

Felix worried more about her with every passing day.

Kerra could feel it, and she wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t have the words to calm him.

“You can leave, dearheart, if this is too much,” she said once, softly. “You can leave if…if I’m too much.”

Not too much, never, Felix insisted, bumping his head into her thigh and letting out a deep purr. But you’re hurt. I want to help.

“You can’t.” It came out too sharp, and they both winced. “It’s…I’m not scratched, or stabbed, or corrupted. I didn’t break a bone.” I wish I had. I wish this pain was visible. I wish I had scars for all of them.

Some nights, she considered giving herself those scars.

That doesn’t make you not hurt, Felix insisted.

Kerra had nothing to say except but I deserve it, and she knew Felix wouldn’t want to hear that. So, she just pulled him onto her lap and against her chest, burying her face in his fur, eyes dry.

****

Her thoughts wouldn’t stop chasing each other in circles. Her Wyld Hunt pulsed at the back of her mind constantly, like the beginning of a headache.

Kill the dragon.

WHICH dragon? she’d scream back. It never answered, no matter how many times she asked.

But she could function on two hours of sleep a night. She could fight. She could help.

That’s all that mattered.

****

She stopped at the Black Citadel for provisions. She’d intended to avoid Rytlock, but one of his subordinates spotted her at a vendor’s stall and (as politely as possible) dragged her to his office.

“Commander!” Rytlock said, happily standing up and pushing his paperwork to the side. “Thought you were back at Fort Trinity.”

“I was,” Kerra said, just a little too shortly. “I’m on my way to Hoelbrak.” Not entirely false; she was indeed heading in that general direction.

“On foot?” Confusion. “You didn’t waypoint or take an airship?”

“I wanted to take the scenic route.” A small smirk, and, again, not entirely a lie.

“Fine by me.” Rytlock grinned, his smile very full of teeth. “Don’t suppose you’d care to help me take out a Flame Legion post before you leave?”

“I’d be happy to,” Kerra said, smiling back and inclining her head before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Felix followed close behind.

“Commander!” Rytlock shouted after her. He muttered something about “I was saying we’d go together,” but Kerra was halfway down the stairs by then and barely heard him.

The outpost was empty within three hours. Kerra was gone in four.

****

She’d stopped shielding her mind somewhere along the line. She couldn’t remember exactly when.

Emotions swirled through her, positive and negative and in-between. Most of them left, but their imprints remained.

She kept fighting. She kept killing, when necessary, and the pain grew and grew and grew. Her burden. Hers. Deserved, she thought.

She racked up invisible scars by the thousands.

****

As much as she told herself the pain was necessary, it also was exhausting—which is how she got her first serious injury since leaving Orr, forcibly bringing her spiral to a halt.

She was at Victor’s Point with a man named Gareth and his three children. Said children had performed some sort of ritual to summon a bear. The ritual instead managed to summon several dozen bears, and soon the homestead was overrun.

While Felix helped Gareth take down a particularly large bear, Kerra heard a scream from the nearby shed and whipped around, running as fast as her legs would carry her across the snow.

A child she hadn’t met yet, a small one with short white-blond hair, was cowering under a workbench. They held a pen in their right hand like a dagger, jabbing it in the direction of yet another bear trying to stick its head under the table. It growled at them, showcasing its set of sharp teeth.

Not wanting to risk hitting the child, Kerra unsheathed her dagger and leaped on top of the bear. But she’d underestimated its ferocity and overestimated her remaining strength, and it threw her off, slamming her into the stones of the nearby fireplace.

Holding her head, she tried to get up, but its claws gauged deep marks across her chest, and she dropped her dagger at the sudden spasm of pain. She scrambled backwards, shielding the child with her own body as they screamed. Felix roared somewhere in the distance.

She struggled to stay conscious as the bear reared up on its hind legs, trying to figure out if she could muster up enough energy to kick it in the stomach. But she didn’t have to.

A blue shield appeared around her—guardian magic, she thought deliriously. Logan? The mace that whacked the bear in the head was decidedly not Logan’s, though, and Logan wasn’t that tall, and his skin wasn’t that dark. But whoever this was, the child was safe.

“Hey, stay awake!” a voice called out urgently as her eyes slid shut. She heard a distinct crack in it and felt the owner’s concern for her. Funny, she thought in an unappreciated moment of irony, for them to care so much about someone they’ve never met.

****

Kerra must have dreamed, then, but all she remembered was what woke her up—yet another whisper of kill the dragondeep in the back of her mind.

She sat up with a jolt, nearly whacking her head on the beams above her.

Her savior was talking in hushed tones to Gareth nearby, but whatever they were saying was immediately drowned out by Felix, who meowed loudly and started purring at the top of his lungs. He gently butted his head against her shoulder. Thank you for staying. Don’t leave.

“I’m—” she coughed, clearing her throat and trying to ignore what felt like the worst headache of her life. “I’m okay, ‘Lix, I’m okay, I’m still here.” She gently laid a hand on his flank, and he turned his head and licked it with his rough tongue, making her laugh weakly and then wince as the action sent a flare of pain through her body.

“You sure you’re okay?” her mysterious savior said, approaching her bedside. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I heal fast,” Kerra said, meeting their eyes. They were tall, but their face was young. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” the tall child said. “I’m Braham, he/him. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Lin. She/her is fine. It’s nice to meet you, too.” A memory slotted into place, and she gasped, frantically looking around for her weapons. “Are the children all right? How long was I unconscious?”

“Easy!” Gareth said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he approached. “Yes, all the children are safe, and you were only out for about an hour or so.” He coughed meaningfully, and a snow-blond head peeked out from around his legs. “Mikkel is a bit shy, but he wanted me to thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mikkel,” Kerra said, her eyes softening as they met the child’s. “You were very brave, you know.”

The boy squeaked and hid again behind his father’s legs. Gareth just laughed. “I daresay he was! But that thanks comes from me as well, young one. We were lucky to have you with us today.”

“The thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary, Gareth,” Kerra replied, dipping her head a few inches. When she lifted it back up—slowly, struggling against the pounding in her head—she found Braham looking at her curiously. But he shook his head, seemingly dislodging whatever thought he’d had, and nodded.

“I’m glad you’re okay and that I could help, but I gotta get going,” he said, standing up.

“Where are you headed?” Kerra asked, leaning back slightly against the pillows.

“Hoelbrak,” Braham answered, frowning. “I need someone to help me defend my hometown, Craigstead—it’s been invaded by some group calling themselves the Molten Alliance. I figured asking Knut Whitebear was worth a shot.”

Kerra frowned, too, both at Braham’s words and at the implication of his tension and fear. “Who else did you ask?” And why didn’t you try Hoelbrak first?

“Tribune Brimstone. He didn’t believe me.”

“What didn’t he believe?”

Braham’s face closed, but she could feel his flare of anger; it wasn’t directed at her, though, not really. “With all due respect, sylvari, it’s not really your business—”

“I know Rytlock,” Kerra interrupted, ignoring Gareth’s shock and the way Mikkel’s eyes lit up. And though the last thing she wanted was to go back to Rytlock or any of her friends and hurt them again… “I can help; I’ve convinced him to get off his…behind…before. Let me help. What didn’t he believe? That your town was under attack?”

She could tell Braham wasn’t quite convinced that she was being honest, but he sighed and shrugged. “That, and the fact that my full name is Braham Eirsson. My mother—” He said the word with a disgust Kerra didn’t understand. “—is Eir Stegalkin.”

Kerra blinked. “Your mother is who?”

Braham crossed his arms. “You heard me.”

“No, I did, and I believe you—sorry. I just…” She trailed off, took a breath, and continued. “I know your mother, too, then. And I’m aware that I can’t move much at the moment, but if Whitebear doesn’t agree to help you, come back and find me. Either I’ll convince someone to help you, or I’ll do it myself.”

Surprise mixed with persistent disbelief and gratitude. “Okay, then. You’re an odd one, Lin.”

She laughed, dry and short, absorbing the flicker of pain that came with it. “So I’ve heard.” As he headed to the door, she added, “You better come back and at least let me know how things go, okay?”

It was Braham’s turn to laugh, though his was more sincere. He did a goofy half-bow-half-salute and said lightly, “You’ll be on my way, so sure thing, boss.”

****

Kerra wanted to leave. Gareth and his wife and his children were absolutely lovely, and she didn’t deserve any of it. But she was trapped in bed, healing. Careless.

She slept most of the time, waking up only to eat and pet Felix and thank Mikkel for bringing her water. Part of her wished she could just stay asleep, and part of her was absolutely desperate to move, to get out, to go anywhere but here where she was a burden and could do nothing. Always, constantly, back and forth.

I need to move.

You can’t.

I need to help.

You can’t do that, either.

I need to be worth something.

But you’re not.

I need you to shut up.

But I won’t.

I…I need my friends. And I need Trahearne and Caithe.

But you left them. They’re probably all angry with you.

You don’t know that.

And even if they’re not, you don’t deserve them.

…

Am I wrong?

****

On her fourth day at Victor’s Point, Kerra received a visitor.

Raised voices outside woke her. She rolled over to face the door, bringing her knees closer to her chest under the blankets.

“—asked you to state your business, sylvari.” Gareth’s voice. He was on edge and slightly angry.

“And I told you, I’m looking for Kerra. Is she here or not?”

Kerra’s eyes flew open in shock and recognition.

“There is no one by that name staying here,” Gareth replied. “I strongly suggest you try the next homestead.” A feeling of preparedness, as if his hand was on the hilt of his weapon.

Before she could think it through, Kerra called out, “Nisha?”

A brief scuffle and a shout, and the door banged open. Nisha’s clothes looked wrinkled, though still passably clean, and xe stood as tall as ever. And xe was scared and upset and relieved and so many other things that Kerra didn’t have the brainspace to work through.

Felix, however, didn’t have that problem. He leapt forward, and a very startled Nisha caught him in xyr arms. Xe stumbled backward into Gareth, who burst out laughing, animosity gone.

“Well, all right then! Lin, I see you know this person. Is it fine if I leave you two…” He glanced at a very loudly purring Felix, eyes twinkling. “Or you three to catch up?”

Nisha’s gaze caught hers and locked in, like the sight on one of xyr rifles.

Say yes.

Say no.

Say yes.

Say no. Say NO.

“Yes,” Kerra choked out, quiet but audible.

“Wonderful! I’ll be outside if you need me.” The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Silence for a few beats. Three, two, one.

Kerra took a deep breath and straightened, sitting up fully. “Hey,” she said tentatively.

Nisha gently set Felix down, a fierce edge in xyr eyes. Felix curled up next to the bed, eyes darting between the two.

“Hey?” Nisha repeated incredulously. “Hey?!”

Kerra flinched, and Nisha snapped xyr mouth shut with an audible click. When xe spoke next, xyr tone was flat. “Where have you been, exactly?”

“Helping people,” was all Kerra could say.

Nisha exhaled, frustration seeping off xem in waves. “My apologies. I should have phrased that better. Why did you leave Fort Trinity?”

“To help people,” Kerra repeated, helplessly.

“Why couldn’t you help people there?! I-I—” Nisha’s face twisted, though Kerra could see xem struggling to hide it. “You left us! And you didn’t say where you were going, not even to Trahearne or Caithe or my brother.” Xyr hand clenched into a fist, gripping and bunching up the fabric of xyr pants.

She had let them down. They were mad—at least Nisha was, and if xe was, probably everyone else was, too. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she started, “I’m s—”

“Do you have ANY idea how SCARED we were?!” Nisha shouted.

Kerra’s world screeched to a halt.

Wait. What?

“We could have lost you, and we would have had no way of knowing! You could have died, or disappeared, and none of us would have been able to do anything to stop it! We were terrified for you! And not because you’re not capable,” xe added hastily, brushing away tears on xyr own cheeks, and she’d made Nisha cry, she’d done that to xem, she’d hurt xem— “You are perhaps the best fighter I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean you can’t die.”

Something cracked in Kerra’s heart.

“Why do you—what about all the people who died because of me?” she shouted back, her voice breaking. She threw herself out of bed and onto her feet, the blankets falling in a disorganized tangle behind her. “What about them?”

“What—we were fighting an Elder Dragon! People were going to die!” Both of Nisha’s fists were clenched now. “And I hate that, but it’s the truth! If you’re saying that you think we could have made it all the way to Zhaitan with no casualties—”

“No, no, I’m not, I—all their deaths are my fault!” Kerra’s tone made Felix’s ears flatten, and she ignored Nisha’s rush of utter shock. “I don’t understand why you’d want to find me!”

“Why in Tyria would they all be your fault?” Xyr brow furrowed, and xe took one step towards her. “I disagree with the basic principle, but even if the deaths were entirely on the Pact leadership, shouldn’t they also be Trahearne’s—”

“NO!”

“Why not?!”

“BECAUSE I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THE COMMANDER!”

The room went dead silent. Kerra abruptly realized she was breathing hard and sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I was given a Wyld Hunt to fight and kill a dragon, Nisha,” she said, staring down at her hands. “The Pale Mother and Caithe both told me that the dragon was Zhaitan, but it clearly wasn’t, because Zhaitan is dead, and my Wyld Hunt is very much still there. Which makes this the wrong path for me, and therefore every action I’ve taken that’s led to where we are, with so many dead, is my fault. I should have figured out I was targeting the wrong dragon, I should have done better, I should have…” She trailed off, overwhelmed.

Silence again. When Kerra looked up, she met Nisha’s eyes, staring directly into hers. Sadness. Anger. Frustration.

Xe cleared xyr throat twice before speaking. “You write your own future, Ker. You’re not beholden to that one.”

“But Mother told me—”

“Mothers can be WRONG!” The fabric of Nisha’s coat tore with a soft ripping sound. But just like with Braham, the anger wasn’t directed at Kerra.

“I was given this Hunt by the Dream!”

“Shoots and thorns!” Nisha yelled, xyr voice cracking. “Why are you so certain you chose wrong, that you made some sort of mistake? You can still complete your Hunt! You can go after all the dragons! And you know why you have that option?” Desperation. Determination. “Because of everything you’ve done, because you’re the Commander, whether or not your Mother and the Dream originally thought you should be! You took down Zhaitan! You proved that Elder Dragons can be defeated, and now you don’t have to fight them alone!”

Xe took a deep breath. “Yes, people died, and it’s horrible.” New tears pooled in xyr eyes. “I…I still miss Sieran. But their deaths are not all your fault, and you saved so many lives, too, and…and I brought these.”

Xe shrugged off xyr pack and fiddled around inside it, pulling out a stack of papers and dropping them on Kerra’s lap. She just blinked.

Nisha sighed, more out of frustration with xemself than with Kerra. “Can you just look at them, please?”

Kerra spread out the papers, making sure to catch a few stray sheets before they fell to the floor.

They were notes, every single one of them written in a different hand. In a quick scan, Kerra saw Caithe’s graceful but clear cursive, Elli’s “i's” dotted with little hearts, and Minei’s deliberately blocky print. She looked back up at Nisha.

“What…what are these?”

“It was Rel’s idea,” xe said, now looking anywhere but Kerra. She could feel xem trying to rein in xyr emotions, though it was a bit late for that. “You gave us all some, so he thought that, if I could find you, I should give you some from all of us.”

Words upon words upon words. Her eyes were drawn to them as if by a magnet.

From Demmi: Thanks for believing in me.

From Cio: You saw past the fire, and you’re one of the few.

From Trahearne: You are the reason I didn’t give up, little sister.

From Shashoo: Quaggan believes in you, Commander!

From Riel: You do good work, agent. Keep it up.

From Elli: Keep fighting, Kerry. You’re damn good at it.

From Minei: They’re not saying why we’re writing these, but you better come back so I can thank you in person.

From Caithe: You showed me new purpose, Valiant. Thank you.

From Rel: You’re my best friend, Ker, and I love you. Stay safe.

And there were more, from soldiers she’d talked to once or sparred with or comforted, and some from people she’d never met. They said thank you and you led us to victory and you saved me and you were a friend when I needed one and many, many variations.

Nisha coughed, and when xe spoke, xyr voice was thick. “I didn’t write one. I’m not a writer. But thank you, Kerra. You’re the third friend I’ve ever made, and I’m so glad I met you.”

“Can I hug you?” Kerra blurted, nearly cutting xem off. She didn’t expect xem to say yes, but she desperately hoped—and then the notes were being carefully placed on the desk, and Nisha was next to her on the bed with xyr arms around her, and Felix was purring loudly from his spot on the floor as he told her I love you, too.

Kerra hugged xem back tightly, hiding her face in xyr shoulder, and they stayed that way until both their shirts were soaked with tears.

****

An indeterminable amount of time later, Kerra pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I can’t do this on my own, you know,” she said, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards. I can’t go back alone. I won’t feel better if I’m alone. I need help, and I need my friends, and maybe that’s okay for me, too, just like it’s okay for everyone else. She met Nisha’s eyes. “Will you stay with me?”

“I just found you,” Nisha said, quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kerra smiled in earnest, then. “Good. Because you can’t do this alone, either.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nisha said, eyebrows raising. Surprise. Indignance. Acceptance.

“Neither of us are okay,” Kerra said, thinking of Nisha shouting about mothers (and Nisha shouting at all, when xe always stayed so composed). “And we have other people—other friends, our siblings—but…” She felt her glow flare, warming her face. “I’ll help you, when you need it, and you’ll help me when I need it. That’s the deal.”

“I wasn’t aware we were making a deal.” Amusement. Warmth.

Kerra dipped her head slightly, never breaking eye contact. “We are.” Her smile grew. “You know,” she said cheekily, “you really shouldn’t question your Commander—”

“You are aware that I’m not technically part of the Pact, right?” Nisha interrupted.

It was barely even a joke, but it shattered whatever tension remained. Kerra burst into slightly broken (but still genuine) laughter, the calm after the storm. She felt Nisha’s happiness and saw xyr grin, and it pushed back the flood farther.

It was just enough. For the first time in weeks, she pulled up her shields, shutting the world’s emotions out. It was a relief and a letting go, and she almost started crying again, but Nisha’s presence held her together.

She was far from okay—the drumbeat of it’s all your fault and the Hunt’s repetition of kill the dragon were still very much there in her head. But people cared about her. She had proof of that, though she still didn’t understand it. She was important to them, so she had to keep herself safe.

Maybe someday she’d be able to do that just for herself.

For now, she’d take the help, and she’d start to heal. And when Braham came back, she’d leave, with Nisha.

But it was all right to stay here, just for now. She was safe, and she was loved.

And she felt like she was home.

#gw2 #my fics #kerralind #nishannai #please do heed the warnings folks #guild wars 2

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hxneydreamers · 3 years ago

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Hello dear ! I have read your blogs. You are amazing !!!! (10000x 💞 for you ). I wanted to ask a question . Neville goddard said that time doesn't really exist in manifesting . So actually my sp who is celebrity is very very older than me . Like we have a age gap of 12 years. 😥 as said i am minor. I decided to manifest him when i am 18 . But sometimes i get impatient but then i feel a bit upset and it's not legal to date a minor. Plus he lives in korea . As i have indian parents they never will allow me to even fly to korea. And even if we get in a relationship . They will never like him. Tho my mother is into the group (he is in a group ) she won't ever. As being in india , india is pathetic country with bs Trash . They ( the group is seen as bunch of gays) and most hurting thing is lgbtq is not accepted in this fuking country . Ppl tread them as trash not human. They get so much discrimination ( most of them are transgender ) and hate . Like they have to live together because thier parents disown them and stuff. Makeup is gender less. But in this country men have to be men. like all the fking indian celebrity don't ever wear makeup (males) . (Not gonna lie they all don't even have clear skin like korean ) Skin care is not menly . Men shouldn't do it. The mentally in this country is fucked up.

Now back to the topic.

- how my parents will judge him ? (Most my papa because mom knows a lot about korean cultural but she won't stand with me including some mfs relatives who judgemental af . Relatives ohh my these bishs are hella judgement (most the old one) doesn't matter how they themselves look or personality )

- is he gay ? Why he so feminine ? He is uses makeup damn sure he is gay or somthing he is a girl for sure !!

Doesn't matter how successfully he is and his personality . Doesn't matter how much more he is successful more than you. (Relatives and parent) don't matter if loves your beautiful daughter. doesn't fuken matter if he is caring and financial stable.

- as i minor they won't let me go to even study in korea !

- tbh my plans are to skip 12 or 10 grade (i am in 8 th grade now) and study in korean university as it's one of my dream. Then work as cosmologist here . I want to to have family here.

But but but

My parents hahah never i even asked them they even made fun of my dreams and they said it's gonna take 20 years to reach there .

I am extremely discouraged .

Then on the other hand i also want to desire body before everything happens . Like going to korea and stuff.

I suck at affirming and visualizing . I habe never got results from scripting.

Plus i got my school too. Omg also learning korean too.

Omg i am so done !! 😭 please help me and guide me. And advice me ! i am extremely sorry for my bad english . I am not a native.

Everything is so hard

Hey! Thank you so so so much for reaching out to me! I really appreciate you coming to me for advice! Don’t worry, your English was fine!

*I'm going to begin this post by clarifying that whilst it is possible for you to manifest anything in your reality, I do not encourage you manifesting this person if you are underage and they are much older. You have said in your question that you will not manifest them until you are 18, which is good, however I will just make it clear that this post is to help you manifest the other circumstances in your reality, and not the person or the age gap.*

Let me start by telling you I obviously haven’t experienced this as intensely as you have as I live in a country where people are much more open-minded about sexuality and ideas of masculinity, but I have stories to share with you from my own life that are very similar to what you want to manifest! They might encourage you! (PS, these following stories all took place from when I was at the age of 19 and up.)

(This story is before I knew about manifesting). My parents are very strict and traditional and I always wanted to go overseas to study in a specific country for at least a few months. My parents forbid it and I never would have been allowed to go, but I wanted it so badly that it was all I thought about and dreamed about! I started watching a TV show set in that country every single day. I even learned the language for fun. I somehow manifested it, because the next year, I took a semester off university and I went to that country for 3 months to live. So no matter what your parents say, you can 100% manifest this.

I had a celebrity crush in that country and I wanted to meet him and be with him SO BADLY! I didn’t know about manifesting until afterwards unfortunately, but guess what? I manifested seeing him MULTIPLE TIMES on the street, because I constantly thought about seeing him there and bumping into him! I even messaged him once and he responded. I also had one of his best friends on snapchat because I met him when I was there lol. I never got the celebrity crush because I focused too much on negative things. If I knew about manifesting, I would have gotten what I wanted.

My (specific person) SP who I am currently dating is actually someone who my parents also didn’t approve of for a long time because of sexuality and he is not stereotypically masculine! They also kept telling me negative things. The good news is that now my parents accept him and are happy for us!

Thank you for giving me the background information on your circumstances, it helps me understand your situation much better, and it also shows me how you’re thinking about the situation as well, which is the most important thing.

The beliefs you have are these:

Parents and other people not approving of the kind of people you are interested in.

You don’t think you can go to Korea for a long time

I’m happy to tell you that YOU CAN CHANGE THIS SITUATION!

As I said in the beginning, the age gap is illegal and should not be manifested. So as a result, you should begin with your beliefs about your family's negative opinions and your ability to travel in the future.

You need to stop mentally reacting to what they say when it’s negative about men who are not stereotypically masculine etc, and also when they say negative things about you ever traveling. They are only saying these things because in your mind you believe this to be true. Reality is an illusion and you need to know that if you really push through and persist, even if it feels extremely difficult, you can change this!

You should start by affirming your self-concept, something like this (you can also affirm in your own language if you prefer so it's natural to you :) whatever is comfortable for you!)

I am capable of anything!

I am a master at manifesting!

I always get what I want easily and effortlessly!

Everything always works out how I want!

Then I want you to affirm for your circumstances:

My family is always extremely accepting and encouraging!

I’m so happy that I’m going to Korea!

If you find it hard to visualise you can just affirm. I know you may feel like you’re bad at it, but if you practice it will get easier. Set a timer for 5 minutes and say your affirmations over and over! Make sure you don’t have any distractions. Focus on them. Do this several times a day, every day.

Also, if you can get the app ‘ThinkUp’ record yourself saying your strongest affirmations, and listen to them at night when you sleep. Start with your self-concept affirmations only for maybe 2 weeks! Then you can add your other affirmations.

Your goal is to change the way you feel and think about yourself and what you are able to do, your surroundings and your family’s opinions. Start with these things. Really persist in them.

I hope this helps in some way! If you ever need to reach out to anyone, so many people on Tumblr in the manifesting community are here to listen! We all want each other to succeed and I know that if you put the work in to do this, you will too!!

I also recommend you start binge-watching one of these youtube channels:

Sammy Ingram

Manifesting With Kimberly

Manifesting Secrets

Dylan James

Create Your Future

YOU CAN DO THIS <3

#manifest #manifesting #manifestation #affirm #affirmations #neville goddard #law of assumption

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kaeyas-wifehusband · 4 years ago

Text

Bloom: A Taang oneshot.

Summary: Aang and Toph have always had a special connection. He knew there was something different about her from the moment they met years ago at the underground arena. As time passes, platonic feelings begin to morph into something more. (Quick note: There is a hint of the Kummi/Taang in here if you squint lol. Hope y’all enjoy!)

To say Toph’s parents weren’t fond of Aang would be an understatement.

And a huge one, at that.

To them, he would always be the bad boy (the first time they referred to him as that, Toph nearly choked on her breakfast from laughing) who manipulated their sweet, frail daughter into running away with him and his trouble-making friends. Never mind the fact that she proved she wasn’t the defenseless child they claimed her to be. Never mind that she willingly went along. Never mind that she didn’t do it just for Aang, but also because it was the only chance she had to be free.

Spirits knew how long it took her to convince them that, no, he wasn’t a negative influence (if anything, it was her); yes, she can take care of herself. They never entirely warmed up to him. However, they did allow him to visit. That was good enough for Toph. Besides, it was probably the best she’d get out of them. Sure, she had to bribe threaten reassure the family guards that they didn’t need to follow her and Aang around when hanging out. That was simple to accomplish, luckily.

And so, years passed.

They formed memories with one another. The rest of the Gaang were involved, of course, with some of them. Toph noticed something, though. Aang would still seek her out personally in those times. During group meals or bonfires, where she went to sit down, he’d follow. Whenever they all laughed, his head would tilt in her direction. His fingers would sometimes graze, linger, upon hers when they walked together. All of it became more intentional to her as time went on. It became more common.

He wasn’t good at being subtle. She knew this. It didn’t bother her. Because, maybe, she was beginning to feel the same way.

---------------------------------------

At first, when Aang spent time at the Bei Fong residence, he was tense. Her parents clearly did not like him and were probably only allowing his presence because a certain daughter of theirs bribed threatened reassured them until they gave in. Creating discomfort was something he loathed. For Toph, however, it was worth it. Plus, she was quick to deal with the overprotective watchmen that would trail them wherever they went, even if it was just in her backyard. That most definitely made things easier.

Numberless, unforgettable moments were made between them.

The ones that he held close to were the ones that were small. They were personal. He thought of how she’d clutch his arm, not the railing, when crossing the wooden bridge near her home. He thought of how her witty remarks started to feel more flirtatious. He thought of how she’d consistently ask for stories of his childhood among the Air Nomads; how, when he complied (and he always did), she’d find some excuse to lean against him. (“I’m tired.” “I can hear you better this way.” “Shut up about it.”)

And it was all fine.

Beyond fine, actually.

It wasn’t until he started craving those instances more and more that he realized he liked her. Finding reasons to visit became all too easy. (“There’s a new restaurant in town.” “I could brush up on my earthbending.” “There’s a spot that I just have to show you.”)

The answer was never less than an “Okay” and usually a “Sounds great. Let’s go.”

Definitely, the greatest giveaway that none of this was one-sided was what happened one summer night.

--------------------------------

They were in the Bei Fong garden, strolling among the rose bushes. They talked of nothing, everything, and all that was in between. Stars glistened amongst the cloudless velvet sky and the moon was full, luminous. While she couldn’t see any of it, he hoped that she could feel it’s intoxicating serenity. The calmness it radiated made the atmosphere feel otherworldly. Eventually, they found a marble bench to rest on. The smallness of it meant their bodies were practically pressed against one another. It wasn’t awkward.

As they engaged in small talk, Aang plucked a few flowers and started weaving them together. Toph didn’t initially pick up on this, but the constant moving of his arm against hers, as well as the sound of shuffling, spiked her curiosity. She gently pressed her fingers against his.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh! Making a flower crown,” he stopped twiddling and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I guess I should have asked if it was okay.”

She shrugged and removed her hand. “I was just curious. Doesn’t matter to me. They’ll grow back anyway.”

He grinned and went back to work. Minutes went by, silence reigned. Not the slightest hint of discomfort was sensed.

“Ta da!” He held the handmade accessory in the air with pride. “Finished! And in record time, too.”

Toph smirked and traced her fingertips against it. The woven intricacy of it felt high quality. He’s done this multiple times before and it showed.

“Nice job, Twinkle Toes. Maybe you should quit the Avatar stuff and start a business.” she teased.

“Believe me,” he said as he studied the freshly made creation. “If I could bring myself to do that, I would.” A sigh left him. “But I know what I’m needed for.”

She hummed in acknowledgement. “All this hero duty starting to get to you?”

“Starting to? It always has been,” He flicked a few stray strands of grass and stem off his lap. “I never wanted any of this. Being the grand savior of the universe sounds fun until you realize how much you lose because of it.”

“Well,” she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Find a way to cope.” It was a lousy attempt at comfort. To anyone else, it may have been offensive. Not to him though.

He chuckled softly. “I already did.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled while placing the flower crown on her head. “It’s you,” There was no regret for his words, which mildly surprised him. All of it was true. “I just...I don’t know. Spending time with you allows me to temporarily forget that I’m the Avatar. You make me feel like an equal,” He pulled an uneven, wilting petal. “You never saw me for less or more than I am.

Because of you, I’ve been allowed to grow, without necessarily growing up. Does that make sense?”

A snicker escaped her. “No. But then again, you rarely do.”

She lifted both her hands to his face, her fingers gently trailing his features.

This has happened before. In fact, it’s happened multiple times. These sort of moments wouldn’t last long and would usually end with her squishing his cheeks or booping his nose, a “You’re a dork” following. It wouldn’t be such a big deal except that she never did this with anyone else. He wasn’t dumb, though she’d would probably say otherwise. She didn’t need to do this to “see” him. Her feet and ears handled that well enough. Being careful, intentional yet tender, he placed his forehead against hers.

“What are you doing?” he said in a whisper so quiet that it’d only be audible to her. He smiled when she blushed.

“Nothing. Why? What’s it to ya, Twinkle Toes?”

“I mean, I don’t mind. Just curious because you’ve done this before soooo...” There was a playful, teasing tone in his voice.

Mildly annoyed, she freed a hand to lift one of his against the right side of her face. “There. Now we’re even.”

His breath hitched and she noticed his heartrate spike. She hardly tried to stop her mouth from forming a smirk. “Aw, does that bother you?”

He swallowed, calming a bit, but not entirely. “No. N-not really.” he mumbled. It was the truth. She didn’t need to focus on his heart’s pace to know that.

Aang exhaled and closed his eyes. Everything became still. Aside from the crickets chirping, and the occasional stray dog barking from far off, all was peaceful. This was how he often felt with her. It was always like this when they were together. In a way that he could not yet explain, he felt a comfort with Toph that he never felt with anyone else, not even with Katara. A note of courage suddenly filled within him and swelled. He had to ask now before it disappeared.

“Can I kiss you?”

If Sokka was there, he’d surely facepalm. Most people don’t like being asked to be kissed. They just want it to happen, at least according to him. Toph wasn’t like most people, though. On a level that was beyond what he could fully understand, they were connected. Perhaps all lovers felt that way. Although, even when their bond was solely platonic, he still thought that she was like no other. (“Not like her.”)

He prayed silently. He wished not that she wouldn’t say no, but that if she did, nothing would change between them. Another pang of quietness passed. He felt the confidence in him start to deflate.

Then, suddenly, a swipe across his lower lip and a “Yes” evaporated any worries or doubts. He didn’t hesitate pressing his mouth against hers.

Aang knew what first kisses were supposed to be like. Poets and singers described them as a powerful, electrifying force. (“Kissing him feels like fireworks.” Katara once said regarding Zuko). Yet none of that could accurately evoke what he experienced in that moment. In her affection, he noticed a sliver of familiarity that he could not quite comprehend. There was warmth, a sensation of relief. It felt grounding. It felt like home.

When they parted, it was sobering; like waking from a long slumber to crisp morning air.

“Oh, by the way,” Toph then gave his shoulder a swift punch.

“Ow! Hey!”

“That’s for being a total sap.”

#taang #toph #aang #atla #avatar:the last airbender #ship #my post #fanfic #hnnnng this is a bit self indulgent lol #a little sappy too #but i'm a sucker for first kiss fics #also #a little zutara on the side

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rpbetter · 3 years ago

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Is it okay to vent? I've been modding an rp group with friends and recently, I really haven't felt like things have been fair? Everything feels like it's swinging in favor towards a particular character of a person made recently mod and I hate it. It's also like there are several people very quiet in the group now and I've made like observations that might be concerning and brought it up, but no one seems to listen to me? I'm honestly just wishing I could care less right now bc while the original mod group was a group of friends, I'm struggling with feeling apart of it now and torn between going radio silence or forcing myself to expend effort more in hopes I'll actually feel like I have friends again.

Any time, Anon!

That is definitely an uncool situation right there, I'm sorry that's happening. If it makes you feel any better, I'm very sure that a lot of others understand too well what you're going through. I know I do! I wish I knew what the solid answer was to the entire, far too prevalent issue with RP groups failing for such reasons is, as well as this too frequently happening in any group of mods of anything, but I don't think there is just one answer that can be applied.

More specifically, though...to be painfully honest with you? The only thing here you can control is yourself. I know the suggestion should be a redundant and assumptive "have you tried talking to them more directly, you probably weren't direct enough" but lol you literally said you have brought this up and I don't feel like any number of times rehashing the way in which you've done so is going to make them listen. I'm not advising you to not try that, but I am advising you to not expect different results - only do that if it's going to help you move on. (Like, feeling a sense of well, I tried my best and they are not in a place to care, so, I'm done.)

I sincerely wish there was a way to just not feel things, not care about things, especially when you logically know it probably shouldn't dig at you as badly as it is! If anyone out there finds a secret to this, we're all dying to know, please share! But what you can do is slowly detach from the situation, and I think this might be best.

I know it was a friend group, I know how badly this hurts and how unfair it is...how it sort of changes the landscape of your RP time, too. I think, even if we do not consciously realize it, it's a goal most of us have to establish a good friend group we RP with, just like we establish friend groups in games. We feel so much more comfortable with this group of people we can enjoy all aspects of RP with, because let's face it, it can be a kind of odd thing to discuss with other people if they do not RP, even in a fandom. We also tend to develop our muses and our writing with our friends, naturally. So, achieving that only to lose it is tough, and it's tough no matter how many times it happens to you.

However, I really meant it when I said I don't think they're in a place to listen. Obviously, I'm not there in your RP group, I'm not seeing what is going on, I'm not hanging out with your friends (I mean? Probably? lol the RPC can be vast yet so tiny), but going off of what you've said and what I've experienced, that's really what I feel here. People have a simple tendency, in all group situations, to not be ready to see something as a problem until it's well past being easily addressed. Trying to force it into their field of vision is likely to make them angry and to see them more obstinately ignoring it.

Some reasons for that are not wanting to argue/fear of ruining things, genuinely being oblivious to the issue, enjoying the factors that are an issue for others, and favoritism. These are not things you can change. All you can do, as far as trying to address it again, is to figure out which of these/which combination is going on with the person in the group most likely to listen to you so that you can better talk to them. Whether you agree with them or not, understanding where someone is coming from is helpful to speaking with them. You can better phrase things so they're not triggering negative emotions.

For example, let's say you feel like it's a combination of this hypothetical one friend enjoying what is making others upset (let us say that this new member writes something with their muse they enjoy) and that it's become favoritism because of this and/or other factors (they're the one who brought them into the group, they were already a friend). Okay, so, now you have an idea of what you can say that won't prod at any feelings of accusation, jealousy, or even their own guilt.

Instead of: "Listen, I know x is your favorite person and you will always choose them over everyone else, but this is a real problem and I need you to hear me about it."

Try: "Hey, I'm needing to talk to you because I feel like this is such a serious issue. I've tried to discuss it with the entire group, but I've not been listened to and I know the group RP is as important to you as it is to me. I really enjoy x as well, they do y great and they're so z, but the way that the focus of the group has swung entirely to their character is a big problem for many in the group. If you've noticed, the activity of several others has dropped off. People feel they're not being listened to and that their characters and bits in the storyline aren't of equal importance anymore. What do you think we can do about this?"

Right out of the gate, you're expressing that you know they like this other person, but you don't dislike them or anything, you dislike what has happened in the situation. You've also given them the (correct) impression that this is endangering the RP, and that they are someone you feel is both interested and reasonable enough to want to fix the problem.

Again, do not expect that it's going to change anything, but if it'd make you feel better to try one more time, do it.

The problem so often with being a mod, even among a friend group who are also mods, is that moderators are very often set up only to act in the event of such extreme drama that the others won't want to deal with it. As a mod, you feel (again, correctly) that it's your job to...you know, moderate. That doesn't just mean disputes, it also means pre-dispute situations like this, among other things. However, the actual top moderator complaint is always that they're not listened to unless it's a problem that has kind of imploded the group. The kind of problem the rest of the group doesn't want to resolve for fear of seeming to play favorites or, frankly, fear of looking like a bitch. This is absolutely something that will put devastating cracks into the RP group, but since it isn't crumbling it rapidly yet...they'd probably rather that you just ignore it. Then, are rather likely to either drop the RP or want you to resolve it magically because you're the one who brought it up way back when it fixable.

So, we're back to "it's not a problem you can fix or control despite your position" yes.

And we can go back to what you can do to mitigate your own upset somewhat, also, yes. :D

There's this whole thing about ripping off the bandaid that just isn't applicable to all situations. (It isn't even applicable to all literal injury situations, damn.) This is one of them for a lot of people. Slowly distancing yourself so you can start putting energy into things that will return your investment of time, creativity, friendship might be better for you than just abruptly going radio silent, or even more drastically, leaving.

Don't engage with the group RP as often or in as timely a manner, be less of a presence there. It's difficult at first, but see, when you feel the drive to be there, you then use it for something else. If you have other RPs outside of this, reply to one of them instead. If you don't, start seeking out new partners/RPs instead. You have other RPs but they all owe you right now? Not a problem, do some character development. Whatever keeps you from spending as much time there.

As you do this, it's much easier to not be there. Just drop in to do what you have to. It becomes difficult, eventually, to be bothered to do so, I promise. A lot of other things you did not like that you were tolerating because these are your friends and this is something you enjoy, they'll become obnoxiously obvious. You know what else either will or won't? Them missing you being there.

If they do miss your presence and friendship, that's great! That's the best outcome. It might put into sharper perspective how bad the issue was, they might be more willing to address the problem now, make it a dedicated effort to not show that kind of attention to just one member's character/one member.

If they do not, then that does very much hurt. This is, unfortunately, how many friendships in the RPC decline. Not heated arguments, but rather, quiet inattention and replacement. If this happens, I'm so sorry, Anon. I can say all day long the total truth of the matter, that it wasn't the best group for friendship longevity and you can at least take the memories and lessons with you, but it won't stop it from stinging. However, because you have started to make other things your priority, it does lessen the upset.

Either way, this is a really frustrating situation! I think you've kind of answered what you need to do just in the phrasing here, "I'm struggling with feeling apart of it now and torn between going radio silence or forcing myself to expend effort more in hopes I'll actually feel like I have friends again." When we start feeling like have to force ourselves to expend more effort out of desperation to feel friendship like we once did, that's not a situation we should stay in. Sometimes, we just need to vent about it and see it pointed out to us to realize it, you know? Because it is hard to lose our friends and comfort zones, even when they've soured.

Maybe trial run slow distancing, just responding to the people who also feel like they're being left out, perhaps? Until the situation improves or you feel like you can move on easier. Nothing about this is going to be painless, but you can at least insulate yourself a bit while leaving the ball visibly in their court - I expressed this was a problem, it was ignored and is an ongoing problem, so, I'm not as invested anymore and it is up to you now to stay on that track or demonstrate some changes.

I hope that whatever happens, it's good for you! Even if it feels awful for a while, I hope it's eventually great. Maybe it's the thing you need to find an even better group, you never know until happens! I also hope that my delay in response didn't make things worse for you, please know I've felt really guilty about it despite not being able to get online :| I know just being seen at the moment you're feeling so frustrated and down helps so much!

#answered #anonymous #vent ask #group rps #moderators #preferential treatment #rp advice #rp help

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uncloseted · 4 years ago

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Hey, I’m a big fan of your blog! When I saw the post about stupid questions, I thought I’d ask for some help. This isn’t necessarily stupid, but I don’t know.

How can I seem more confident?

I am confident within myself, but people are always telling me how insecure I am. Everyone is saying that I should be more confident. I don’t feel insecure, so why do I seem that way? I can be kind of quiet, so maybe that’s why.

Thanks! This isn’t a stupid question at all! The thing I get asked the most is actually how to build self-confidence or to care less about what other people think. For you, it seems like the issue isn’t actually in having self confidence, but in projecting self confidence. Some of that is in body language- having good, open posture (no crossed arms or legs), making eye contact, standing firmly, and not fidgeting will help to convey confidence. Some of it is in language- instead of hedging what you’re going to say will, “I think” or “maybe” or minimizing your feelings with “just”, try making clear, concise, and strong statements that end declaratively rather than questioningly. And some of it is in actions- do you ask everyone around you what they think before you make a decision? Do you defer to other people when a decision has to be made? Do you do things that you’re interested in, wear things you want to wear, watch what you want to watch, etc., regardless of what your friends are doing? You might appear more confident if you start asserting yourself or focusing less on what other people think of you.

Here are some other tips and tricks I’ve amassed for building self-confidence and not caring what other people think. Some of it might be relevant for you and some of it might not, but hopefully someone who needs it will see it.

The first thing to remember about confidence is that people aren’t drawn to people because they’re beautiful, or smart, or kind, or fun, or interesting. People are drawn to people who are confident (or appear to be confident). If you’re confident and weird, you’re not weird, you’re a visionary. If you’re confident and ugly, you’re not ugly, you’re “unconventionally beautiful” or a trendsetter. If you’re confident and overly serious, you’re not boring, you’re a leader. A lot of people think it’s the other way around- that only beautiful, smart, charming people who are well-liked can be confident- but it’s not true. To use a Skins example, Tony’s not a good person. He’s manipulative and cruel. But people like him (at least in the beginning) and go along with what he says because he’s confident. The same goes for Katie. You can argue about whether she’s objectively the most attractive girl in the group, but she acts confident in herself and in her appearance, and it works. Lots of guys are attracted to her. So that’s the first thing- don’t focus on changing yourself (physically or emotionally) in the hopes that you’ll be more confident. Instead, focus on changing your mindset to that of a confident person. It will make a huge difference.

Of course, that’s all easier said than done, and the process of building self confidence can take a while. In the meantime, while you’re on the journey of actually becoming confident, one thing that can help is “faking it until you make it”. When you’re going about your day, ask yourself, “how would a confident person who’s never experienced insecurity or anxiety handle this situation”? Then do what a confident person would do. If you have a really confident friend, it can help to imagine what they would do in a given situation and then do that. Pretend everyone you meet already loves you and thinks you’re great. Pretend like you think you’re great. It will feel uncomfortable at first, but you’ll start getting used to it and the “confident” responses to things will start feeling normal. One thing that can make this a little bit easier is to talk to yourself in the second person. By saying things like “you’ve got this”, your brain will (sort of) feel like you’re receiving advice from somebody else, which is more motivating than getting advice from ourselves.

There are also some exercises you can use to build your self confidence on your own. Some of you have heard this one before, so bare with me, but the first thing I suggest is: every morning, look at yourself in the mirror and say some things you like about yourself. I know you probably feel like you can’t find any, but try. Focus on those things that you like and try to only focus on those things. Write them down, either physically (on a sticky note on your mirror, maybe) or in your phone. Each day, try to add a new thing to the list. When you’re out and about, remember those things that you like about yourself, focus on them, and try to draw attention to them. When other people compliment you, add those to your list as well. I think eventually by recognizing all of the things that you like about yourself, you’ll be able to feel like there are things about you that you can be confident in, and you won’t focus so much on the things that you feel are negative. These don’t have to just be things that are physical. You should include things you like about your personality as well.

A lot of people who are insecure use deprecating humor to cope and as a bid to get other people to like them. But I think that can be really emotionally damaging. Like Hannah Gadsby said in Nanette, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor, and I don’t want to do that anymore..do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility. It’s humiliation. I put myself down in order to speak, in order to seek permission to speak, and I simply will not do that anymore, not to myself or anybody who identifies with me.” Self-deprecation impacts our self-esteem, and it impacts the way people around us view us. The more times we say something, even as a joke, the more we start to believe it, and the more the people around us start to believe it. So instead, make fun of yourself by pretending you’re really, really cocky. If you trip and fall, instead of saying, “I’m such a disaster”, replace it with “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”. If you make a piece of art and you think it sucks, say, “Obviously I’m the next Di Vinci/Michelangelo/whatever.” If you say something dumb, instead of saying, “I’m so stupid,” say, “I’m clearly the next Einstein.” You still get to make a joke and diffuse any awkwardness the situation has, but you also get practice saying nice things about yourself. And eventually, you’ll get so used to saying nice things about yourself as a joke that it won’t feel so weird to say those things about yourself in a serious way, too.

For those people who feel insecure about things they did in their past, try and think of something embarrassing one of your friends has done. Can you think of anything? The vast majority of people remember their own embarrassing moments really vividly, but don’t remember things other people have done at all. Reminding yourself that you’re probably the only one who remembers or cares about the mistake you made can help you let go. The mistakes you’ve made in the past are learning experiences that you’ve grown from and changed from, and the fact that you’re embarrassed by them is a good thing. It means that you’re not that person anymore- that you’ve become someone better. I think that’s something to celebrate instead of something to cringe at. It can also help to talk to yourself as if you were a friend who’s remembering an embarrassing moment. Would you tell them how embarrassing that moment was and how much they suck? Probably not. You’d be nice to them and tell them things will be okay. Talk to yourself like you would a friend.

The fact that people aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing doesn’t just apply to cringey things you did in your past. People are unlikely to remember that one time you tried a new hairstyle or wore an unusual piece of clothing. They’re unlikely to remember that one time you asked someone out and they rejected you. So many of the social pressures we feel can be remedied by remembering that most people are way too worried about what they’re doing and how they appear to the world to care about what you’re doing.

One more piece of advice- stop comparing yourself to other people. The old adage, “comparison is the thief of joy” is totally, scientifically proven to be true. Comparing ourselves to other people (or to TV shows, movies, characters in books, etc) makes us much less happy because we’re comparing everything we know about ourselves, good and bad, with a curated version of this person. We don’t see them when they wake up in the morning with crusty eyes and frizzy hair, or when they have the flu, or when they’re overwhelmed and anxious and lashing out at the people around them. But the truth is that everyone, even the people you think have perfect lives that you see on social media, are just people. They have bad habits and negative traits and days where they’re not at their best, just like the rest of us. If you really want to start being confident, one of the best things you can do for yourself is to mute or unfollow the people who make you feel insecure online, and replace them with people who inspire you- artists or activists or cute videos of animals, whatever works. You’ll never be able to feel good about yourself if you’re constantly tracking all the ways in which you feel you don’t measure up. But you will if you’re constantly seeing all the ways in which you do.

Last thing. Basic life care stuff, like good posture, exercising, eating well, sleeping well, meditating, and just generally practicing self-care and taking care of yourself can improve your confidence as well. If you’re not starting on a strong foundation, it’s hard to build anything that will last. But if your foundation is solid, all of the things you do to build your self-confidence on top of that will be, too.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

The Hero’s Journalist- Part 1

Since he was little he wanted to be a hero like All Might, unfortunately, he was quirkless. Nonetheless, his way with words landed him at the top of journalist, the one who interviewed all the sidekicks and the less know heroes. He is the Hero' Journalist, Who will interview even the villain know as the hero killer Stain and even enter the base of the villain alliance and try to interview their leaders and seek their secrets. Nothing will stop him to bring the truth to the light!

AO3

(thank @fantasiame for the title and description!)

---------------------

It had only made sense to Izuku. He chased heroes around all throughout the city. It hadn't really been his intention, to begin with, but one day he decided to post his opinion about a recent fight. It got some interest-- not a lot but that was to be expected. Izuku liked it, however. Some people would offer their own perspective which was always good to take into account. It also made it easier for the heroes in some small capacity(he wasn't so vain as to think he was making a big impact) but some people seemed more forgiving getting an in-depth analysis of the battle rather than the news trying to make it more dramatic.

But what Izuku really liked was the acknowledgment of his skill. It had been hard growing up quirkless. He was bullied or ignored, no one specifically targeted him thankfully but it was never easy.

When he started analyzing heroes it was because he wanted to be one. As he started posting his analysis more often things started to change.

He was decently popular at that point-- in his last year of high school(he hadn't been able to get into UA or any hero school for that matter but he knew there were other opportunities later in life so he didn’t let it dishearten him too much). There were people that followed him, regularly reading his stories but he most certainly wasn't famous in any capacity.

The big change came after a fight with a villain one day. The pro hero had arrived at the scene and did a lot of flashy stuff but Izuku noticed one sidekick, in particular, had been the crux of the operation. While he was being swarmed by the press Izuku waited to approach the sidekick standing off to the side by herself.

TinCan was her name. From what Izuku saw her body was made out of aluminum. It made her very lightweight but susceptible to crushing-- but Izuku had watched her buff out the dent in the fight and wondered how small she could be crushed down? She hadn't seemed hurt so maybe her nerves were less sensitive. He supposed it was an impressive quirk if nothing flashy. It had allowed her to move quickly and almost act as a human shield when the pro let their guard down.

He watched TinCan for some time talking to the victims of the fight. There were only minimal injuries but there was some property damage and some of the kids were scared. She stayed and cheered up the kids while they or their parents were getting patched up. Izuku snapped a few photos promising himself to ask permission before he posted them.

When they were taken care of TinCan looked over at the pro, still swarmed by reporters, and sighed. Izuku took that as his cue.

“Excuse me,” He waved slightly awkwardly to get her attention, “I was wondering if you could do an interview for me?”

“Me?” TinCan looked shocked-- Izuku knew he wasn't a professional reporter but- “Are you sure you don't want-”

“No!” Izuku felt bad about cutting her off, “You were amazing in that battle! I’d love to hear about your training and your quirk! You could go pro at this point!”

TinCan was even more surprised by that. Izuku wasn't sure if she could blush but it looked like she would be. Still, she gave the interview gladly. Izuku soaked it all up. She didn’t chide him for his millions of questions like the teachers usually did, instead getting more excited and passionate with each one.

TinCan hadn’t gone to a big name hero school so it set her back on her path to becoming a pro. She eventually got a job as a sidekick and had been there a lot longer than most sidekicks of her skill. A point Izuku kept coming back to, that she should start her own agency.

“I don’t think anyone would be interested,” She said sheepishly, loud enough for Izuku’s phone to pick up, “I don’t have a very flashy quirk and as it is I can be useless in battle if I take enough damage,”

“First, you don’t need a flashy quirk to save people,” Izuku said firmly, with much more confidence than usual, “As for trouble in battle take on sidekicks or work with partners, maybe you could even find someone to counteract the negative side effects of your quirk,”

“I’m not sure….”

“At least ask around,” Izuku encouraged, smiling brightly, “You have the makings of a great hero, you should go for it even if you don’t think it will work out you’ll never know until you try,”

“Man you’re persistent,” TinCan laughed with no malicious or blame, “I’ll think about it,”

“Thank you,” Izuku bowed, stopping the recording. It had not been a great set up, the phone propped on a trash can of all things, but their options were limited.

He thanked her and they went to part ways. The interviews with the pro wrapping up by now.

“Hey, Midoriya!” TinCan called when he was halfway down the street, “When I go pro you get dibs on the first interview!”

Izuku was stunned. Then a wide grin split his face.

“I look forward to it!” he shouted back. Then he got an idea, “Can she do it?! Yes she Tin-CAN!”

A smile split TinCan’s face and she looked like she was laughing, but raised her fist regardless. A declaration to everyone on the street. Izuku quickly snapped a picture. He’d have to ask to use it when she went pro.

When he posted the interview it got some attention, not a lot but he supposed that was the reason no one interviewed sidekicks. Not that he regretted it one bit. TinCan was a great hero, sidekick, or Pro.

It was months later when he got a message; TinCan was starting her own agency.

And wanted Izuku to be the first interviewer.

---

Izuku loved TinCan’s agency-- although it wouldn't be fair to just call it her agency. She had taken his advice and partnered up with two other heroes.

The metal hero: Platesmithier was the perfect fit. She was able to control thin metals, it lost effectiveness the thicker the metal. She worked as a support hero mostly staying away from fieldwork at her prior sidekick job. However, with TinCan she was needed in the field to help fix the other when damaged. Izuku had questioned Platesmithier extensively on all the gear she had made for the agency. It was impressive metalwork of course giving them intricate and lightweight armor.

Cloom, a name Izuku had needed some clarification on(apparently it was meant to be a mix of Cloth and Room also sounding like Loom, not very clear but it was cute and fit the bubbly girl). She had been stuck as a sidekick for a long time. Her quirk was extremely useful, able to make cloth that she weaved into a doorway to a new room, the size of which was determined by the size of the cloth. This was why he loved the agency it was originally a one-room office but with fabric pinned to every wall, its size was increased tenfold. And could easily be folded up and moved. Taking down the fabric didn't ruin the room inside just blocked the entrance. Cloom had been used as a sidekick to make agencies bigger in the same way. Izuku disagreed that was the only use and TinCan agreed with him. Cloom was able to throw the cloth over villains and fold it up making for an easy capture. It was unbelievable such a powerful and versatile quirk had been stuck as a sidekick!

Izuku loved the interview. They set up cameras properly, talking for hours almost more like friends at times. Izuku talked about all their experiences separately and together. Cloom and Platesmithier worked at the same agency. A hero in some of the top ranks who had seen their useful quirks. Both wanted to go pro but neither had the courage until TinCan came along. Apparently, she had been pestering people to find a metal bending quirk and had tracked down Platesmither. It took a lot of badgering but she had convinced them to join her as a partner. Both thanked Izuku for giving her the motivation that brought them together. Izuku stuttered and blushed saying they had done it themselves, but they insisted he take their thanks.

They talked about their plans for the agency well into the night. It was set up in a large city quite far from his own so they offered him a place to stay the night. He really really loved Clooms quirk as she hung up a sheet of fabric leading to a guest room. Izuku couldn't get to sleep. He edited and posted the interview that night. It generated a bit of a buzz-- always excited to see new heroes.

That buzz would be turned into a roar by the end of the next day.

---

They had been walking Izuku to the train station. They had wanted to see him off and wish him luck for his upcoming final exams. It was all fine- even happy chatting more about each other. Izuku took his camera out so they could send a video to him mum. They wanted to thank her for letting Izuku come.

Then the villain attacked.

They were the closest. Someone in the building across the street. A strength quirk. The guy was three times Izuku’s height. He took out the foundation running through it. The building was tumbling down. People were screaming. There were still people inside.

They acted fast. Civilians on the street in danger of falling rubble. TinCan shielding them with her own body, rocks leaving dents behind as she moved them to a safer area. Platesmither bent thin sheets of metal, acting enough as a shield for people to run away. Cloom pulled out a big sheet of fabric covering civilians with it. They guided the rest under the sheet, whatever rubble hit it fell into a different plane of existence leaving the people underneath safe from harm.

Izuku didn’t even realize he was filming.

With the civilians on the street safe, TinCan and Platesmither ran to the falling building. Cloom made sure to stop by him, giving him a sheet of fabric that he wrapped over himself, rubble falling right into it leaving him safe.

The villain had come out onto the street spouting his big speech. Izuku kept focused on the heroes behind him digging through rubble to find civilians trapped underneath. This vexed the villain, he charged right at Izuku who was still out in the open. Later he would note it was a great shot-- but right now he was terrified.

That terror morphed into exhilaration as TinCan ran up behind the villain, kicking him back. The effort sent her led bending the wrong way but Platesmither straightened it out quickly, still trying to rescue people.

“Don’t you dare hurt the INNOCENT!” She yelled sending another punch, her arm crumpled. His quirk worked as armor too, made sense with how he could run through walls and the falling rubble didn’t harm him.

TinCan cursed switching to use her weapons Platesmither had made. She managed to cause some damage, moving too quickly for the villain to catch.

It didn’t last.

Izuku’s heart sank when the villain grabbed her leg, crushing it in his grip. He looked in terror as the villain balled her up, like a piece of tin foil. He wasn't the only one, civilian who peaked out from the sheet cried and shouted. Platesmither ran over as the villain was distracted by gloating.

Platesmither started straightening out her body, Izuku hoped more than anything. More than meeting All Might. More than becoming a hero. That TinCan would be alright.

Where were the other heroes? They had to be coming soon! They had to be!

Platesmither managed to smooth TinCan out but she wasn't moving. The villain noticed and kicked Platesmither away, sending her sprawling down the street. Cloom shouted out but she was the only one spare to help the trapped civilians.

Izuku’s heart leaped when TinCan twitched slightly. There was silence in the street as the villain looked across at her, unimpressed. TinCan tried to raise her head but fell to the cement with a metallic thunk.

Izuku had to do something! He had to! He wasn't a hero. At that moment he realized, maybe even accepted he would never be-- but he could be a hero here in his own way. Just like the people dissuading him from his dream always said. But this didn’t feel like giving up on his dreams, it felt like starting them. Like passing it on to hopeful heroes and giving them a boost to what he knew they could be.

“CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN !!!” Izuku’s confident shout, more confident than he had ever spoken, rang out across the street, over the only other sound being sobs and screams. Again, he had to do it again! “CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN !!!”

“Can she do it?” Izuku looked over to a little girl peeking out from the large sheet, “Yes she Tin-CAN!”

“Can she do it?” two other people this time.

“Yes she Tin-CAN!” Now five more people.

“Can she do it?” fifteen people shouting.

“Yes she Tin-CAN!” Now it was more like thirty.

“CAN SHE DO IT?!” fifty, fifty people.

“YES SHE TIN- CAN!!! ” Everyone, every single person on the street called out, “CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN,”

TinCan raised her head.

“CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN !”

TinCan pushed herself up.

“CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN !”

TinCan stood up shakily.

“CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN !”

TinCan raised her arm in triumph, looking at the villain with righteous fury.

“CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN CAN SHE DO IT?! YES SHE TIN- CAN !”

She lunged at the shocked villain, punching him. This time she didn’t crumble. This time Platesmitther had come to her side, keeping her arm strong. She didn’t need that though. She leaped up winding her legs around the villain's neck. He reached up to wretch her off crushing her legs in the process, right around his neck in a tangled mess. She bent backward along the villains back, jabbing at his sides. He moved down instinctively and she grabbed both wrists. Catching on Platesmither twisted her arms around the villains, effectively making her into a living pair of handcuffs.

Now it was Platesmithers turn, she kicked the villain down, using a sheet from Cloom to cover the villain. She quickly folded it back up trapping the villain-- along with TinCan.

They didn’t have time to worry about that. Izuku ran to the fallen building with Platesmither, helping Cloom with the rescue efforts. Thankfully other heroes showed up shortly after. There were casualties, and it stung, but most people made it out alive. And thanks to the others, the civilians on the street were completely uninjured.

The police came. Surrounding the cloth with heroes they carefully unwrapped it. The villain leaped out immediately, TinCan still wrapped around him but he had gotten an arm free. It didn’t last long as other heroes swiftly apprehended him. And soon he was in police custody.

TinCan was straightened out and met with an adoring crowd. She stood in shock for a full minute as people kept chanting her new catchphrase. Less with desperation and more in victory. Reporters swarmed her. She looked over their heads.

“Izuku!” She called, stopping the clamor to look at him, “You're doing our interview right?!”

Izuku grinned, taking out his phone. Only then did he realize it had been recording the whole time.

---

TinCan and the Crafty Bunch(It had been Izuku’s suggestion as both Cloom and Platesmitther had distinct skills in metalworking and weaving) became a national sensation. They were praised for how they handled the situation and the ingenuity of the takedown. They were projected to place in at least the top 50(Izuku bet it would be the top 30) at the next rankings.

This came with no small amount of fame for Izuku. He had the first interview with TinCan ever. Had her credit him to pushing her to make the agency and her now-famous Catchphrase. Had the first up-close interview with the heroes, long before anyone else. For a few days, it was only his interview that people could turn to, to learn more and it blew up. And he also had exclusive footage of the battle, topped off with their interview after.

To say the least, people took notice of Izuku, much more than ever before. News outlets tried to buy his footage off him. He would only accept selling screenshots knowing if they had access to all the footage he wouldn't have any incentive to get into the industry.

And yes Izuku wanted into the industry. It was kind of obvious now that he thought of it. He loved quirks and he loved heroes. He could ask questions for days. Sure he was a bit camera shy but he could get over that. No, Izuku wanted to be a reporter, a journalist, anything where he could learn more and help people because of it. It might not be the obvious help of a hero or medical professional, but many commented it made them feel safer how he unpacked quirks and strategies, opening their eyes to another side of heroics.

Izuku was offered a job at a small publishing agency. He had gotten an offer from some larger ones but they were more restrictive. This one was mainly a magazine publicist with only a few tight-knit workers with some freelancers. Recently they had wanted to make video interviews and articles to reach a wider market. It sounded perfect to Izuku he would basically have control, only needing their sign off. They liked his work and were content to let him do things his way. They were small but had good connections with heroes, known for being honest and not embellishing gossip, or at least staying away from the harmful stuff focusing more on a hero's favorite food or whatnot.

It all sounded too good to be true. Izuku worked part-time and when he finished high school it was a full-time job.

He loved it he really did. They actually scheduled interviews, letting him talk to pros instead of catching them after battles, not that he minded doing that. Apparently, TinCan and co had been vouching for him and many Pros and sidekicks were willing to answer a question or two.

Izuku liked talking to the sidekicks. His boss did too. It provided insight into the hero’s lives that usually wasn't harmful, Izuku tended not to share it if it was. The pros liked it less, however, as he somehow always managed to convince their sidekicks to start their own agency. They had started to combat this by offering to be interviewed instead. Izuku found it funny but easily agreed.

He loved his job, he really did and was so excited to see where it lead him.

He probably would have been less excited if he realized it led him directly into danger… all the time.

---------

This is just one of oh 9 au’s/fics I’ve come up with(and written) in the past three weeks. I’m doing fine. Whats obsession?

#my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #bnah #bnah fic #journalist au #quirkless #quirkless midoriya izuku #good bakugou #age up #age up izuku #same age class #confident midoriya izuku #quirkless discrimnation #midoriya izuku #midoriya #no ofa #ua highschool #chaos

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onceinabluehanguangjun · 4 years ago

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into you like a train (2/5)

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ao3

At the bottom of his bag, Lan Zhan found a small box of tea bags and his favorite mug carefully wrapped within a shirt.

I know my A-Zhan 😊, Lan Huan had texted him when he asked. Even though he was alone in the cabin and it was still early enough that birds were singing, Lan Zhan’s ears grew warm. He never truly forgot that he had the best brother in the world and yet Lan Huan was always willing to remind him.

He’d just put his tea bag into the mug of hot water when there was a rhythmic little knock at the door. Lan Zhan instantly thought about ducking behidn the counter and waiting until whoever was there left. This was the second time in less than 24-hours that he was having to deal with people at the door. Wasn’t this meant to be peaceful?

When the knocks continued, however, Lan Zhan decided to just get it over with. He kept his mug in his hand to give him something to do as he opened the door. On the other side was a familiar face.

Wei Ying stood there now properly bundled up for the weather. His long hair was pulled up into a purposefully messy bun at the top of his head and a scarf was tied around his neck. His nose and cheeks were tinted red from the cold and his smile was in full force. He seemed completely sober despite being wasted the night before.

“Good morning, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying said, holding out the container in his hands, “I wanted to apologize for last night and to thank you for not being a dick about it, so I brought you some peanut butter buns.”

Lan Zhan blinked a few times at the container and then back to Wei Ying’s face. He looked better when he wasn’t drunk and didn’t smell of alcohol. Lan Zhan might even go as far as to say he was aesthetically pleasing.

“You don’t have to take them,” Wei Ying said, “I just felt bad for ruining your night. My memory is garbage, so I have my address and my Jiejie’s address in my notes and I guess I showed the wrong one.”

He didn’t ruin Lan Zhan’s night, everyone on the bus did. But that felt a little dramatic to say out loud. And also unfair to everyone on the bus who were simply existing. Lan Zhan shifted his weight from one foot to the other before hesitantly holding his hand out.

Wei Ying smiled like the sun itself and did Lan Huan’s little hum of joy as he handed him the container.

“You can just leave the container here and I’ll get it back after you leave. Or you can throw it away or steal it out of spite,” Wei Ying laughed. Lan Zhan didn’t respond. Wei Ying didn’t seem bothered by it. “Oh, it has peanut butter in it, I don’t know if you’re allergic. Are you?” Lan Zhan slowly shook his head. “Good! I learned how to make them in Hong Kong once.”

Lan Zhan blinked a few more times as Wei Ying just smiled at him. Definitely aesthetically pleasing.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it and I won’t bother you anymore! Goodbye, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, laughing a little bit to himself.

He turned on his toes and started his trek down a pathway without waiting for a response. Lan Zhan felt a bit frozen in place for a moment before he slowly closed the door again. He brought his tea and his buns back into the kitchen area. Honestly, he felt genuinely thankful. He still hadn’t worked up the courage to go to the grocery store and he was beginning to feel hungry.

Lan Zhan opened the container and pulled out one of the buns, inspecting it as if expecting it to be something other than what he said. He pried it open and looked at it before peeling off a small piece and popping it into his mouth. It was good.

He didn’t eat pastries of any sort most of the time, usually preferring bland food because it was easier to consume. Sweets or spices didn’t interest him. But this was sweet and he was beginning to rethink every choice he’d ever made when it came to food.

He ate two of the buns and then settled onto the couch to drink his tea, scrolling through his phone to distract himself from the fact that he would need to call a cab to take him to the nearest grocery store. The idea made his stomach tie in a billion knots. He even looked up the distance to see if he could walk there and back. However, making an hour and a half walk with groceries didn’t sound like a fun idea. He would just have to go through with it.

Lan Zhan finished his tea and called for a cab, hoping he got one who was allergic to small talk. He grabbed his fully charged earbuds and waited for the cab, listening to a podcast and hoping he could get by without talking to anyone else. Then he could come back in a decent enough mood to break out the finals that required his careful attention.

He made it to the store without any qualms and he gave himself a 10 minute timeframe to get in and get out with enough to last him his entire stay so he didn’t have to do this again. He got things that could stretch for multiple meals: noodles, eggs, another box of granola bars, etc. He almost made it out on time too.

“ Wow, fate must really think we need to meet,” a very distinct voice said. Lan Zhan breathed in deep and turned around to see Wei Ying smiling at him. He was leaning forward on his cart that seemed to only have caffeinated drinks and junk food. “Oh, please don’t judge me based on this. My neighbors grow most of the food, but sometimes I need a fix, you know?”

No, Lan Zhan thought, he very much did not know.

“Mn,” he hummed. Wei Ying huffed a laugh and stood up straight. His face was no longer red from the cold or alcohol, instead he looked warm and even more comfortable than before.

“I can’t believe I’m running into you again! Three times in two days, that’s insane,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan didn’t know how to explain that the first two weren’t exactly random fated encounters.

“Mn.”

“Hey, so, like, since fate clearly wants us to hang out, would you maybe wanna go get a drink?” Wei Ying asked. That very familiar sick feeling started pooling in Lan Zhan’s stomach. Again, he was stuck wondering what the polite way to tell him he had no interest in speaking to human beings would be.

“I don’t drink.”

“Ah, then tea? Coffee? Anything?” Wei Ying filled in, seeming to be doing his very best at asking without pressing too hard, “I just don’t get to meet very many new people and you’re… Well, I’d like to get tea with you. If you want.”

“I have papers to grade,” Lan Zhan said softly. He knew on some level that no, I don’t want to, was a very real answer that was worthy of respect. That just never was able to reach his mouth. He needed to give good excuses.

“Oh, okay,” Wei Ying said, still smiling despite the rejection, “Well, I’ll leave you alone. Have a good vacation, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying grabbed his cart and pulled it away, spinning it around in a reckless way to push it in the opposite direction. Lan Zhan held his breath until the tension in his stomach relaxed a little and then he let it out. And then he felt the guilt. Was he being rude? Was he offended? Did Wei Ying hate him now? Of course, if he did hate him, it’s not like it would matter, he probably wouldn’t see him ever again. But still.

Lan Zhan managed to make it back to the cabin before he realized his brain wasn’t going to let it go.

“Hello?” Lan Huan’s voice asked as he picked up the phone.

“I met someone and I think he hates me,” Lan Zhan said, holding the phone to his ear as he started putting the groceries away. He felt shakier than he actually was which was always annoying. It had him feeling like he was just being ridiculous for no reason.

Lan Huan was quiet for a moment before he said, “Well, what happened?”

Years of practicing how to calm down Lan Zhan had taught his brother ‘no they don’t’ and ‘it doesn’t matter’ weren’t really effective answers.

“He’s the brother of the woman who owns the cabin. He showed up at the door drunk last night and I let him in until his friend could pick him up. Then he brought me pastries this morning as a thanks. Then I saw him at the grocery store and he asked me to get tea with him and I said no,” Lan Zhan said, feeling almost out of breath by the time he was done. He hated speaking so much, but he’d run out of other choices.

“That just sounds like a respectful rejection. You’re not obligated to give anyone your attention, even if they’re nice,” Lan Huan said. Lan Zhan closed his eyes and didn’t answer. “Unless you wanted to give him attention.”

“No.”

“Okay,” Lan Huan said, “But was he cute?”

Lan Zhan didn’t answer which only seemed to make Lan Huan laugh. It most certainly wasn’t a laughing matter. Still, Lan Huan probably read this entirely different than Lan Zhan was. His brother had tried to set him up on dates with a flurry of women and men who claimed to be interested in Lan Zhan all the way until they tried to speak to him and realized he was nothing to be interested in. He probably thought this was another situation like that.

“You’re allowed to go for tea with him if you want to,” Lan Huan insisted, “No one will shame you if you do.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Are you scared he’s going to get angry at you?”

“No.”

“Are you scared he’s going to make fun of you with his friends?” Lan Zhan didn’t answer. “A-Zhan, if it goes badly, you get to come home and never go anywhere near them. It won’t matter.”

“I’m sure he’s already done it.”

“What could you have possibly done in those three short encounters that would make him do that?” Lan Huan asked. Lan Zhan thought about it, but his brother was speaking before he had an answer. “If he did take the rejection negatively, do you think he’d tell his friends about it? If it hurt him at all, then he would keep it to himself out of shame, don’t you think?”

“But…”

“Why don’t you just wait and see? If he continues to pester you, then I support you completely ignoring him. But if you happen to run into him again and he’s kind, maybe fate is trying to tell you something,” Lan Huan said, beginning to take on that wistful tone of his, “That would be romantic, wouldn’t it?”

“He speaks too much,” Lan Zhan said.

“Maybe,” Lan Huan hummed. Lan Zhan frowned and didn’t respond, putting up the last of his things and then retreating to the couch. He pulled his knees to his chest just as his brother began speaking again. “Just see what happens, keep your options open. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend.”

“I’m going to grade papers now.”

“Okay,” Lan Huan laughed, “I’ll leave you to it. I love you, have a good day.”

“Love you too, Huan-ge.”

Lan Zhan sat in silence for a moment with his own thoughts. Wei Ying was nice, it seemed, and Lan Zhan really didn’t have that many friends. It never felt like an issue since most days he was perfectly fine with his own company and he got rid of any desire to socialize from being at work. On the rare days he did want company, he had his brother and his brother’s friends who would let him sit in with them until he wanted to leave. But he didn’t really have any friends on his own. He didn’t need them.

But, maybe, if he kept running into Wei Ying, it wouldn’t be the worst.

Instead of thinking about it, he grabbed his bag and pulled out a stack of papers. Grading them would definitely take his mind off of everything.

By the next day, Lan Zhan had made it through a good chunk of papers and was finally allowing himself to realize he was getting a little restless.

He stretched towards the ceiling and let his upper half flop down to reach towards the floor. He grabbed the back of his ankles and stretched himself out that way before deciding he could go on a walk and find the tea house he knew was towards the bottom of the mountain. There were pathways all around the cabin, he just had to use the phone on his GPS to figure out the right one.

Lan Zhan layered up a bit and then put on his boots, pulling a beanie over his head and a scarf around his neck. He grabbed his phone and his earbuds and headed outside. He put on something to listen to and started his trek.

There was something soothing about the quiet of it all. In Gusu, it wasn’t really loud, but it wasn’t exactly empty either. He lived in a neighborhood‒gated, but still full of people with thoughts‒ and worked in a place that was bustling with activity. It was nice to get away from it all.

Lan Zhan remembered to eventually take a few pictures of the scenery, hoping they were good enough to impress his brother. He knew Nie Huaisang had stayed around here and had a much better eye for picture taking so he probably saw a much better view through those. However, that also implied Huaisang took the time to go on a walk which sounded less plausible.

Eventually, he found the tea house and was immediately thankful that it wasn’t too busy, but it wasn’t too empty either. Still, he found himself waiting outside, pretending to be on his phone as he worked up the courage to go inside and order. It wasn't like he planned to get anything different than he did anywhere else, but...

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan jumped a little and looked towards where Wei Ying was walking up, his smiling friendly despite Lan Zhan having shut him down to get tea with him before. It was almost too convenient and he was bombarded with his brother’s wistful talk of fate.

“Looks like we’re getting tea together anyway,” Wei Ying laughed as he walked over to him, nudging his side with his elbow. Lan Zhan didn’t know how to react to that. Thankfully, he didn’t have to because Wei Ying grabbed his arm and started tugging him inside. “What do you want? I'll pay."

Lan Zhan opened his mouth to protest, but Wei Ying was already waving at the woman behind the counter.

"Hi! Same as always, Mianmian.”

“And for your friend?” she asked. Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan.

"Green tea," he said carefully, hoping it came out even. Neither of them seemed phased.

"Green tea for my new best friend."

"I'll tell Wen Qing that."

"Do it and we're no longer friends."

"Aw, you think I'm your friend? That's cute."

The whole interaction was seamless as the two joked and teased and seemed so familiar. He couldn’t imagine being that way with anyone that worked at the cafe on his University’s campus despite seeing them every single day. He was almost envious.

“So, Lan Zhan, didn’t expect to see you here,” Wei Ying said as they stepped to the side, “Do you like the place?”

“I do,” he offered.

“Good, it likes you! Your nose is red from the cold, it suits you,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan blinked and he just laughed all over again.

It took a few moments for Lan Zhan to realize how much of the pressure Wei Ying had taken off of him during that whole situation. He probably would've turned around and walked all the way back to the cabin if he hadn't showed up.

"Thank you," Lan Zhan said. If he took it as a thanks for paying for his tea instead, he wouldn't mind. Wei Ying's face flushed and he rolled his eyes, waving it off.

"Don't mention it," he said, “Oh, hey, have you made any progress on those papers? You said you teach music history, right? Any interesting reads?”

Lan Zhan looked at him with that familiar dread of small talk. Only Wei Ying seemed genuinely interested in the answer. Then again, Lan Zhan had never been really good at reading whether people were interested or not. Many people had made that very clear.

“One of the history of the bianqing ,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Ying’s eyebrows raised as if he recognized it. Maybe he did.

“Ooh, did they get a good grade?”

“No,” Lan Zhan admitted, “The vast majority was from after it was imported into Korea.”

Wei Ying laughed, “Ah, Lan Zhan! Such a harsh teacher. Was it at least correct?”

Lan Zhan paused for a moment before he said, “Yes.”

“At least they read something then, if not the directions,” Wei Ying said, looking at him very seriously, “Directions are very boring, Lan Zhan.” Then his seriousness bled into laughter. “So, green tea."

"Mn."

“Simple, efficient,” Wei Ying said, nodding his head as if he was putting actual thought into it. He leaned a bit closer. “Pu’er, for me. Caffeine.”

“Mn.”

“Are you staying here or are you going back? We can walk together, I know a shortcut,” Wei Ying suggested. Lan Zhan thought it was a pretty good excuse to get rid of any excess restless energy from sitting bent over papers all day. Wei Ying could be his social interaction of the day until they got to the cabin and then they could go their separate ways.

“Alright,” Lan Zhan agreed. Wei Ying’s eyes widened and his cheeks tinted a shade of pink, but he seemed to quickly return to his natural state.

It wasn’t simply a fluke when he was drunk‒Wei Ying talked a lot and he didn’t necessarily need much input. As long as Lan Zhan showed he was listening, Wei Ying would happily go on and on about whatever he was thinking about.

It started with the health benefits of green tea and then got into the concept of hiking and camping as they started the trek back to the cabin. Wei Ying apparently had read a book about different ways to fish and he’d bragged about how quickly he picked up spearing. Or, bragging wasn’t really the word. It took Lan Zhan a few minutes to realize it qualified as bragging.

“It happened so fast, but I had a fish at the end of my spear! My brother said it was my fault he got covered in water, but I don’t think it was. Do you think it was, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked. Lan Zhan didn’t have an answer and Wei Ying didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good at things that are hands on, you know? I hated school growing up because it was always just telling me what to learn about and that was no fun. I like learning about what I want to learn about.”

“Mn.”

“You look like you were probably a good little student. Perfect grades, huh?” Wei Ying said, a wild smile on his lips as he nudged Lan Zhan again. Lan Zhan took a sip of his tea. “I probably would’ve bullied you, then.”

Lan Zhan flickered his eyes over to him and raised an eyebrow. Wei Ying, who was already waiting for a reaction, laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. The more he laughed, the more it caused a completely different kind of tension in Lan Zhan’s stomach. Like he was nervous and excited all at once. He quite liked the sound.

“I’m teasing! I would never, you’re too cute for all that,” Wei Ying decided. Lan Zhan’s ears grew warm again. “Tell me something interesting, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan blinked as he tried to think of something. He didn’t usually have many interesting things to say. He’d been told he was quite a boring person to talk to, and yet Wei Ying hadn’t gotten the memo.

“The oldest surviving zither is a guqin,” he said, “From around 433 BC.”

“Oh, shit, that’s old,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan looked at him for a moment to make sure he was actually interested in listening to him before he said anything else.

“Also one of the oldest pieces of noted music that was discovered in the east was for the guqin,” he added.

“Sounds like a super important instrument. I’ve heard them, they’re gorgeous. Do you play?” Wei Ying asked. Lan Zhan nodded and he smiled. “You look like you play. Look at those fingers, it was either that or piano.”

If he kept feeling this warm, he’d need to get rid of his scarf.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you turn so red sometimes!” Wei Ying laughed. Lan Zhan’s eyes quickly found the ground. “Don’t worry, so do I. It just usually requires something a bit more physical.” He felt even hotter. “I’m teasing!”

“You tease too much.”

“Ah, you don’t like it?” Wei Ying asked, tilting his head to the side to try and catch Lan Zhan’s eyes. He didn’t dare let that happen, not when his heart was thudding in his chest. “I think you like it.”

“Mn,” he hummed, hoping it sounded casual enough. Wei Ying lapsed into laughter again.

“You’re funny,” Wei Ying said, “And I don’t think you know it.” Lan Zhan said nothing. “So, tell me more about you! I’m dying of thirst over here, please water me with information.”

Lan Zhan dared to look at him again with a raised eyebrows and was met with a smile that truly took out the sun itself. It was overwhelming.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, you already know I live here, where do you live? Do you have any siblings? Any super hidden secrets that you’ll only tell a man you won’t see again once you go home?” Wei Ying prodded. Lan Zhan took a moment to find his words and Wei Ying didn’t push.

“Gusu. A brother, older,” Lan Zhan said, taking a sip of his tea again, “He told me to come here because work is stressful.”

“Sounds like a smart guy, work is stressful,” Wei Ying agreed.

“You would like him,” Lan Zhan said, “Everyone likes him, he’s friendly.”

For the first time, Wei Ying was quiet for a moment. So quiet Lan Zhan looked over at him only to see he was already staring. Lan Zhan held onto his tea a bit tighter.

“You know I like you, right? You’re funny and smart, we’re practically best friends,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan felt his entire face flush this time. “I’m sure your brother is nice, but I think you’d be my favorite of the two. No offense.”

It wasn’t true, probably. He had never met Lan Huan, so he didn’t know what he was saying. And yet it was the first time anyone had ever said they enjoyed Lan Zhan more, that they were his friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish to like hearing it so much.

“ Oh, you’re smiling, look at that,” Wei Ying said and Lan Zhan quickly schooled his face. Wei Ying whined and reached out, pulling at Lan Zhan’s cheek. His instinct was to swat him away and yet his hand never moved. “Stop it, come back, I liked that. Ah, well, one day you’ll do it again and I’ll probably spontaneously combust because I won’t be able to take it. Fair warning.”

Eventually Wei Ying’s hand dropped and, despite having only been touched for a few seconds, Lan Zhan felt cold in his wake. He took another sip of his tea but it didn’t warm him up like it should’ve.

“So, you have a brother. Parents? Grandparents? Aunts and uncles? Nieces and nephews?” Wei Ying asked.

“Uncle,” Lan Zhan answered. Wei Ying nodded.

“I have my brother and my sister, a nephew, adoptive parents, the works,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan didn’t ask, but Wei Ying didn’t seem to need a question to give the answer Lan Zhan wanted. “My dad’s best friend adopted me after my parents died. Freak accident, brakes in the car stopped working.”

“I’m sorry,” Lan Zhan said, “My parents died separately, but I didn’t see them much even before. My uncle raised me.”

“I’m glad he was there to take care of you, that’s always good,” Wei Ying hummed, “I always feel like I got lucky that there was someone who knew my parents to take me in. Maybe they didn't raise me exactly how my parents would've, but they care.”

“Mn.”

By the time they reached the cabin, Lan Zhan realized that there was no shortcut. Wei Ying must've just said that because he wanted to walk with him. And he didn’t leave or find an excuse to stop talking to him. Lan Zhan found himself standing in front of the door to the cabin, both of their cups of tea completely empty and just dreading going their separate ways. He’d never found someone who made conversation so easy for him.

For a moment, he tried to be his brother. He would know how to handle this.

“Would…” Lan Zhan started, glancing to meet Wei Ying’s eyes for a moment before looking down again, “Would you like to come in?”

He didn’t know what he was going to do when they got inside. He didn’t have anything to say or anything interesting to do. He was simply having fun. Oh, wow, he was having fun.

“Sure,” Wei Ying agreed.

It took a few moments of floundering with nothing to say or do before Wei Ying took it upon himself to pick up one of the papers from the coffee table.

“ ‘The Music of the Spring and Autumn Period’, ” Wei Ying read, looking up at Lan Zhan, “Pretty boring title. Have you read this one yet? Is it entirely about Confucius?”

“I haven’t,” Lan Zhan admitted, “But most likely.”

Wei Ying flipped through the five pages, skimming it quickly. He huffed a laugh and looked up to Lan Zhan with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Lan Zhan, what have you been teaching them? There isn’t a single paragraph about The Five Classics in here! For shame,” Wei Ying teased. Lan Zhan’s heart seemed to thud a little bit harder at Wei Ying knowing that much. It was simple, and yet…

Wei Ying dropped that one and picked up another.

“ ‘The Art of Guqin Notation: From Jieshi Diao Youlan to Qinpu’, ” Wei Ying read dramatically, sitting down on the couch as he nodded, “Now that’s an effective title, tells you everything you need to know. Sort of. Maybe a little disjointed, but the effort is there. It’s a music class, not an essay class.”

Lan Zhan stood there for a while as Wei Ying flipped through the papers to see if anything interested him. Every time he would rattle off knowledge that some man who taught primary school on a mountain shouldn’t know, Lan Zhan felt a bit warmer. It continued on until he almost felt overheated.

“How do you know so much about this?” Lan Zhan asked. Wei Ying lifted his head.

“Huh? Oh, didn’t I tell you? I took a few classes at some fancy boarding school before I got kicked out. I retained knowledge out of spite, I think,” he laughed.

“Why did you get kicked out?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, Lan Zhan, but I am very annoying,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan hadn’t noticed, not really. “I pissed off the headmaster four too many times.”

“I see.”

“But it’s okay! I don’t regret any decision I made that led me here,” he said firmly, almost in a way that Lan Zhan didn’t quite believe him. He wasn’t going to say that, though.

Lan Zhan found himself actually engaging in conversation for longer than he could ever remember doing before. He didn’t give nearly as much input as Wei Ying, but it was enough. They spoke until the sun went down about music and work and school and things they’d done in life. It was strangely easy and comforting.

“Wen Ning, the guy who came and picked me up the other night, is, like… the best person I’ve ever met, seriously. Puts up with way too much of my bullshit,” Wei Ying said. He was on one side of the couch, Lan Zhan was on the other. It was normal. “I spiralled a bit in college and he saved my ass more than once.”

“That’s kind of him.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Wei Ying insisted, “Too good. He reminds me of you, actually. You're both quiet, but not in a rude or dismissive way. And, like, trust me, I’m annoying to know when people are being rude and dismissive.”

Lan Zhan watched him for a moment and then he spoke without thinking. He rarely spoke without thinking and here he was.

“Is that what happened the other night? A spiral?” Lan Zhan asked. Wei Ying’s smile disappeared entirely and then it came back, just much sadder than the ones he was used to. Lan Zhan was already kicking himself over it.

“I allow myself one day a year of self pity for everything bad in the world. It just so happened to be the perfect day to meet you,” Wei Ying decided.

"Like what?" Lan Zhan asked, brain apparently still turned off.

Wei Ying smiled. "Aiya, Lan Zhan, save it for at least the second date, alright?"

Lan Zhan’s whole body felt like it was lit on fire at that little sentence. Was that what this was? Was this meant to be a date? Why wasn’t he made aware of that? Anxiety pooled in his stomach and he looked down, anywhere but Wei Ying.

His thumb rubbed between his fingers.

“I’m messing with you,” Wei Ying said, laughing softly. Lan Zhan didn’t answer.

He couldn’t tell if he was already reaching his quota of human interaction for the day or if Wei Ying’s words had pushed him there quicker, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t know what to say and the idea of speaking more seemed draining in a way that he was willing to experiment.

Wei Ying checked the time after a few more moments and said that he had to get home. Lan Zhan immediately felt relieved. Then he was a bit guilty that he was relieved, but there was relief nonetheless. Wei Ying said his goodbye with no promise of seeing him again or any further talk of that second date and Lan Zhan didn’t need any more convincing that he was mad at him. He was nosey, unnecessarily so, and it made him want to leave. The tension in his stomach knotted over and over until it physically hurt, his brain on a never-ending cycle of reminding him of his stupidity.

Lan Zhan locked the door of the cabin and found himself more desperate than ever to just be in a cocoon of blankets in his bed. The bedroom here would have to suffice. He made his way into the bedroom, not even bothering with the light as he wrapped himself up to the best of the ability. He pulled it over his head and tucked it around himself, breathing in and out and hoping that the feeling would just go away. But it didn’t. Wei Ying hated him. Everyone hated him. He was mean and annoying and a bad person and the hatred was warranted. Lan Zhan had tried so, so hard to be friendly and he was still bad.

A few breaths later and no end in sight, Lan Zhan felt for his phone. He called his brother blindly, curling in on himself as it rang.

“Hi!” Lan Huan said. Lan Zhan didn’t answer, instead just taking a shaky breath and closing his eyes. It didn’t take long for his brother to catch on. “It’s okay, A-Zhan, Gege’s got you.”

Lan Zhan closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his brother’s voice, low and comforting. Distracting. If everyone hated him, his gege didn’t. He knew that most days at the very least.

After awhile, after he felt like he had his own head under control again, Lan Huan asked, “Did something happen or was it just one of those moments?”

And, when Lan Zhan ran over the evening in his mind, nothing really happened. It was one of those times when it felt like a bigger deal in the moment and then afterwards it got overwhelming. Now, after longer, it was just embarrassing that he’d cared at all. Wei Ying had made a joke and Lan Zhan had ruined the night.

“He hates me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t.”

Lan Zhan considered explaining. He had everything on the tip of his tongue, he was going to explain, but‒ ”He hates me.” Everyone does. I should lock myself in a cabin like this and never leave. I should venture out into the woods and never be around people again. I’m not fit to be around people.

“A-Zhan,” Lan Huan said softly, “You know I love you, don’t you?” Lan Zhan didn’t answer. “You’re my favorite person in the world. You aren’t a burden. Not to me and you’re my little brother, so you’re specifically designed to annoy me. If I don’t find you annoying, how could this man you’ve hardly met pull it off?”

It was a joke and Lan Zhan knew it, but he couldn’t find the energy to even fake a laugh. His brother didn’t expect him to.

“Do you need me to come get you?” Lan Huan asked gently. Lan Zhan took a deep breath.

“No, I’m an adult. I can do it,” he said insistently.

“Okay,” Lan Huan said carefully, “But know the offer is there.”

Lan Zhan kept him on the phone for a little bit longer before he realized he just needed to sleep. If he slept, he would be fine. He would forget about it and he wouldn’t have to see Wei Ying again.

“Goodnight, Didi, I love you.”

“Love you too, Gege.”

#wangxian #wangxian fic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan xichen #the untamed #mdzs #my fic

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