The (belated) Anniversary of âmuseum of failure or gallery of trying?â đ„ 05/02
First of all â I am incredibly sorry for my delay on this! Technically I had an idea of what I wanted to post, but then I got hit by a curse in which I became very sick & very anxiety-ridden at the same time, so I had no means of getting anything done until now.
I'm feeling slightly better, and I wouldn't want to withdraw you any longer from my long (and oftentimes pointless) rants.
I think in orderly fashion, I would love to start off by expressing my utmost and forever gratitude for all the support and feedback I've been receiving over this work â over the course of the entire year across some other works as well, privately or publicly. The beating heart of any community is the people who make it up â whereas I could be scribbling on my own, as I do often, you are who make this work what it is. Fill it with life, fuel it with enthusiasm, anticipation, ideas, making sure any author at their right mind would stay motivated to produce more and more to such a lovely community. I'm eternally indebted for the kindness I receive, and hope I can keep writing for you all.
Secondly, I'm here to bore you with some statistics from the past year!
I compiled this from the public data on Ao3 â some less public because there are statistics only the author who the work belongs to see (and don't worry, your secret/hidden bookmarks are not revealed by name, only numbers).
Throughout the year I've spent on working on museum of failure or gallery of trying?, here are the statistics it reached:
â Subscriptions: 17 â that is seventeen whole people who receive update e-mails anytime I update this work!
â Hits: 3,235
â Kudos: 106
â Comment threads: 61
â Bookmarks: 24
â Words: 229,466
I'm incredibly fascinated by the threads honestly, that means 61 individual comments were left across only eleven posted chapters! That's really impressive, and I'm so blessed to have people who enjoy the work so vocally, too.
Considering the size of the fandom and the fluctuating reception for Modern AU renditions, I think these numbers are impressive! I love love looove fangirling with all of you in the comments, consider it a guilty pleasure that I feel ecstasy from learning that the angst hit just right, that the fluff was the best amount of sweet, that the moments of reality are something not only me, but all of you can take to your personal lives and perhaps make something useful out of it.
I've been able to learn so much about myself and the ways I need to show up better, communicate more, and take responsibility for my actions more through the research process of this fic. By any means, this universe may be devoid of everything that makes the Avatar the Last Airbender universe so fascinating, but I like to think there are other factors that make up for at least a portion of that magic.
Anyways! Shall we move on to what you really came here for? The surprise, reward, teaser?
Lately I've been blessed with inspiration again, and managed to write roughly ~10k words for the next chapter already. Now, what you're about to read, I have to emphasise, is:
A rough draft that might change in the future â the details are not meant to be taken for granted, they are likely how the future chapter will be depicted but are subjects to change as I will edit through it later. Technically I did edit this portion already to make it what it is, but I would love to emphasise that this is not necessarily the final product, but I hope it will be enjoyable regardless.
If you need a refresher on how we ended up at this scene, I recommend revisiting the end of chapter 9 / chapter 11, so that the setting is clear. I can not and will not provide any context beyond that, as it would immensely ruin my fun â and perhaps, just perhaps, I would like to watch all of you chew the wall for the next months of the writing/editing process, trying to figure out just how exactly we ended here.
Please enjoy this teaser of Chapter 12's rough draft.
Warm. Thatâs how she felt.
The blanket pulled high on her body, legs curled towards her torso. Was there a point in seeming small now? Did it change anything what Rangi had said?Â
All the lights were turned low, it would have been awkward to turn them off and take space in the darkness, wouldnât it? Kyoshi didnât mind the distant dim light, not more than the presence that made her feel like her worst nights years ago were childâs play in contrast to how willingly awake she stayed now, despite the mental drain of everything that happened.
So when the silence stretched, and there was nothing to be heard outside of the windâs howling anymore⊠With every second spent winding down from the emotional height that left her exhausted, she felt dull. Out of her body.
Who knows how much time passed like that, motionless, thoughts swirling in her head. With her eyes fluttering slowly, opening and closing, her gaze set on her fingertips, her thoughts spilled out.
Unexpectedly.
Truly, her voice betrayed her next â she wasnât even sure it was audible when she hummed, âWas it hard for you, Rangi? To leave like that?â
Excitement coursed through her veins for all the wrong reasons. She wasnât supposed to feel this way⊠to feel any way.
âLeaving you was the hardest part.â
And then, she felt as if her cheeks were set ablaze. It definitely helped that she was facing away from her, with so much distance between them. That same old feeling fluttered in her chest that she buried a long time ago.
âDid you mean it when you said you never loved me?â
Such an insecure question. She knew â knew, thatâŠÂ
âNo.âÂ
She didnât mean it.Â
Idiotic. Kyoshiâs heart sank to her stomach. In the past, she would have gone all the way just to hear this from her. It would have changed everything to hear it and not have to learn it on her own through rigorous extremities, a gamble that could have cost her everything.
Rangi did not ask any questions, in contrast to Kyoshiâs curiosity. Perhaps she didnât think it was right to. Like she could. Moments or minutes passed, perhaps a dozen where her sluggish mind raced, fighting the exhaustion. Kyoshi could still feel the eyes on her, but⊠it felt comforting now, even if it was embarrassing to admit.
âDid you ever⊠replace me?â
It all came down to that, didnât it? Ego. Importance. Pride. It didnât matter, so whyâd she ask? If she said yes, that would be fine. They broke up almost three years ago on the dot, there was no need for loyalty.
âNo.â
I didnât either. I couldnât. Would you shame me for that? That I desperately clutched onto the daydreams that one day youâd be back?Â
Oh, how sweet. Rangi was telling the truth now, right? Deep down, Kyoshi hoped that was the case. Wasnât this what she wanted from the moment she fell for her? To be the only one in her life? It wasnât so stupid to long so selfishly, was it, years after their expiration date?
The mattress sank in unexpectedly to her back, which made her turn around with a sluggish jolt, half-asleep, boosting herself slightly up with her elbow. For half a moment, her hair was stuck under her arm.
How Rangi looked at her then felt like a memory in the making â the room barely lit behind her back, her hair wavier than normally due to how it dried. Her gaze pinned to Kyoshi made heat rise under her skin. What? was the simple inquiry that escaped Kyoshi, quiet and breathless.Â
I missed you.
Was what she said, and it wasnât the honesty of the notion that made Kyoshi shiver â Rangi very well could be this upfront, and she was often too. But to hear this again? Kyoshi felt one or two more moments like this would be her demise. But it wasnât fair to be approached like this, not now, after all, she had feelings too, didnât she? Dignity, or something else she could mock herself with.
The warm hands â always warm without an exception â came for her cheeks. A thumb rubbed her skin, igniting a light in its wake. Kyoshiâs own hand rose to cup Rangiâs, at first with the intent to swat her away, but once she was there, her fingertips laying over hers, it seemed impossible. As if her entire body shut down all too suddenly, their hands welded together.
In the confinement of her ribcage, her heart lurched forward. Rangiâs hand took Kyoshiâs, pulling it up to her lips, planting a chaste kiss in her palm, eyes half-open, burning. It was not fair, no. She moved to sit up, back against the headboard, and somewhere in the exchange of their eyes, she wished to resist no longer.
Fabric brushed against fabric as Rangi adjusted herself to sit closer, the sound dying out compared to Kyoshiâs hammering heart. There was no warning, perhaps no thought even when Rangiâs hand came to Kyoshiâs jaw, gliding to the front, just under her chin to raise her head. That was all it took.
That look still made her weak in the knees.
The distance between them closed. The lack of urgency translated into obvious certainty, two hands pulling her in. Kyoshiâs breath caught â this couldnât be real â, her body stilled for just a moment, before it inevitably gave in.
Before she could think better â as if she could now â her fingers curled into the fabric of the hoodie she lent, jumped higher to the bare warmth of her neck, pulling, pulling on her with desperate insistence, her body betraying the desperate fight she really did try to put against these feelings.
Terribly. She was hurt terribly in the past, and every single time she forgave so quickly. Bent and broken herself over and over again, because being by her side felt right. It was what she genuinely wanted â only it never mattered just how bad she wanted it, right?
What happened back then was only a fraction of how stupid she was acting now, asking for repeats of the same poison that weakened her into uselessness.
The kiss â a feverish push and pull, Rangiâs left sinking to her waist, right cupping her cheek â broke, just barely.
Donât, Kyoshi warned, her breath uneven and voice desperate.Â
Rangi didnât go far. Not far enough to escape. Not again.
I know. she murmured, and Kyoshi exhaled softly â something alike a laugh, or a protest, perhaps shame. Maybe all of them at once.Â
You â I⊠shouldnâtâŠÂ
They leaned back in. Who initiated was beyond her, not that it mattered. The hand on her side slid under her shirt, fingertips tickling and skimming her skin, and Kyoshi pulled on her again, until the familiar weight settled on her body again, the two of them acting as one sinking into the soft and mushy, long forgotten pleasure of each other.
I should hate you, the admission slipped from her lips and crashed against Rangiâs, her hips unwarrantedly arching upwards, seeking contact, warmth, more.Â
You should, the response bounced back without hesitation, honest as a knifeâs edge. Rangi grabbed the hem of the dark green hoodie and pulled it up and over her head, discarding it to the ground. After, her hands came to sit splayed across Kyoshiâs stomach, fingers stretching wide, moving slow. But you donât.Â
No, she shook her head, breathless and flustered. I donât.
There was no telling what her hands would do next â they acted as if they had a mind of their own, sliding beneath the hem of Rangiâs shirt, finding the dip of her spine, the ridge she once was so familiar with. No matter how hard her heart wished to bury the truth, her body remembered so vividly.
The reception to her touch was a shudder as Rangi straddled her thighs. It was a tremor so slight Kyoshi feared she just imagined it, was it not for Rangiâs nails biting into her skin. Sheâs still sensitive, it seemed. The acknowledgement felt sinfully right, flooding Kyoshiâs brain with everything wrong.
Stop thinking so much, Rangi murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. In the dimness of the room, her pupils were wide, almost covering the entirety of her irises, and the lips Kyoshi bit on in the heat of the moment appeared a little swollen.
I need to think, Kyoshi put up a hollow attempt as a protest, undercut by the shift of her thighs, parting so Rangiâs left thigh could fit snugly in between. Her hand rose to cover her cheek â the skin burned under her fingertips.
A kiss was planted into her palm, before Rangi would pull Kyoshiâs hand away, off to the side so their fingers could intertwine, and she could lean closer once again. Words had no effect on Kyoshi, it seemed, and Rangi always knew a quicker way to a result.
Her lips lowered to Kyoshiâs jaw, kissing a steady, confident trail up all the way to her ear, where her teeth grazed the skin lightly. Kyoshiâs hold tightened, her fingers clenching against Rangiâs as a pathetic huff of oxygen pressed out of her lungs. Think about this instead, the voice whispered, just loud enough to echo in the emptiness of her brain, I missed this so much, Kyoshi.
One kiss, two, and Kyoshi tilted her head to the side â in this moment, allowing a piece of her neck to be bitten out would have been swifter mercy than what she was putting herself through again in the name of desire. Every night, I thought about this. Every. Single. Night.Â
The words had a mind-boggling effect on her. Kyoshiâs free hand sank to Rangiâs thigh, then shifted up to her hipbone, and dipped low again. She tugged on her, her fingertips grabbed her with undeniable need, and she wanted her closer. Was she any more composed, her heart wouldnât have broken like a poorly patched up dam â she wouldnât have squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling rapidly, words breaking out of her throat unexpected and yet so honest, I dreamed of you. Stupid dreams. Vivid dreams. Iâd wake up and reach for you and â
Rangi stilled, her kisses coming to a sudden halt. For a long moment the only thing Kyoshi heard was the hammering of her heart in her ears â their mingled breaths, the distant howl of the wind and fabric against fabric as Rangi pulled a little back. I know. Iâm sorry, she whispered, her left idle on Kyoshiâs cheek for a prolonged glance, before she would offer a chaste kiss. Iâm so sorry.
Even the kiss was filled with it.Â
Youâre trembling.
Was she? Kyoshi didnât notice.
Iâm scared.
There was no telling where it would lead, her outrageous honesty. Rangi stared at her for a moment, but it was hard to follow where her eyes sat, and the expression that she wore was also lost to the darkness. Kyoshi, she called, reminiscent and familiar, Let me make it up to you.Â
Only if it was that easyâŠÂ
To be real, nothing about this was easy. The knowledge of that acted as a counterweight to the desperate wanting that made her limbs weak and breath shallow.Â
But Rangi was looking at her as if Kyoshi was the answer to every question, as if she was the destination at the end of a very long road, and it shamed Kyoshi to remember that â she never really was adequate at denying Rangi anything she asked for.Â
It doesnât work that way, she replied in a hush, voice quaking. You canât just â
Canât just what?Â
Rangi interrupted against her skin, the line of her nose brushing Kyoshiâs jawline as she planted another kiss. Trailing down, Rangiâs lips traced over to the column of her throat, and any words of protest, rejection, denial, even the intent to fight back died in her throat and only something like an embarrassing whimper surfaced.
Canât I spend the next several hours reminding you of what you mean to me?
The implication of several hours sent a bolt of heat through Kyoshiâs core and made her hips buck involuntarily. All the control imposed on her was now infuriating â and it wasnât clear to Kyoshi either whether she wanted to strangle her, or⊠surrender.
Thatâs â ah, she was interrupted mid thought by an ample bite, ambitious of you.
Laughter sounded against her skin and the vibrations from it made Kyoshiâs fingers clench against Rangiâs shirt by the hip. I had so much time to think what Iâd do. Piece by piece. Inch by inch. To you.
It made Kyoshi wonder why she never came back, if that was on her mind all these years. The discrepancy mattered little to her mind intoxicated by lust. Rangi acted like as if she knew this was how it was going to end, and the three years behind them was just a test of Kyoshiâs devotion.
A last shred of pride, a final attempt at resistance that would prove she wasnât completely pathetic, wasnât completely hers to command even after all this time⊠that was what she needed to show, right now.
Do it then, she nodded.Â
The sound Rangi made was somewhere between a laugh and a moan, and then her mouth was on Kyoshiâs again, kissing her with ferocity that left no room for doubt, no room for the past, no room for anything but the present â the slide of tongue against tongue, the press of bodies trying to close distance the years placed between them.Â
The familiarity of Rangiâs hands all across her body was as terrifying as it was thrilling. It was under her shirt, tracing the curve of her ribs, the dip of her waist, the soft swell of her chest. Her touch carried intention and brought memories to the surface. At times like this, their hearts beat as one.
Youâve lost weight, the words murmured against Kyoshiâs collarbone, and she could swear Rangi sounded somber, almost worried for a moment. Youâre not eating enough.Â
She had no right to remember things like this. How could she tell? She didnât know her good enough anymore, yet she couldnât be more spot on.
The topic wasnât pushed further, thankfully. Kyoshiâs thoughts jumbled and stirred as Rangiâs lips trailed a path down now. Down her sternum, giving Kyoshi a quick glance up for her silent blessings, the confirmation that would lead for her shirt to be gone next, cardigan pooled behind her back.Â
It was almost too much, the dance of the fingertips on her side, the kisses right where her heart resided. Youâre so beautiful, the voice bubbled from below, and Kyoshiâs knees jolted slightly, squeezing around her. Iâm so sorry, she inhaled sharply, biting into her flesh. Kyoshiâs mind flashed red as her fingers clenched around Rangiâs dark locks.
I donât want your apologies now, she shuddered. No matter how great it felt, grounded in the moment felt simply better.Â
Rangi shifted back with her entire body now, making space so she could continue her way down Kyoshiâs stomach. She quivered. Tell me what you want then, and itâs yours. Anything. Everything.
Kyoshiâs thoughts revolved around the past. She wanted to go back and fix it all â she wanted Rangi to stay, to choose her intentionally, to love her so much it wouldnât cross her mind again to leave. She wanted to stop loving her so much that it erased all rationality from her mind.
Touch me, she breathed, and whatever mush her brain produced earned a grin. To ask for something so simple was less likely to shatter her again.Â
Rangiâs hand sat on her stomach as she closed in again, kissing her with enough fever to be considered possessive. The very pads of her fingertips brushed the waistband of her pants, teasing as she hummed, Here?
Before she could reply, or react as much as a nod, the hand slid right past the separation, and Kyoshiâs own jolted to grab Rangi by the wrist. Rangi, she wheezed carefully, her opened eyes hazy by lust. It was like looking into a mirror now.
All tongue and demand is how their session continued, and Kyoshiâs stomach clenched with raw desire. Pathetic. The hand wiggled free from her weak hold and resumed its journey. Kyoshiâs whole body had gone taut like a pulled back bowstring in mere seconds even after the tiniest brush.
Itâs been so long â so long, and the sensation was overwhelming and it made her so ecstatic. Snuggling into the crook Rangiâs neck, she held onto her tightly, fingers sunk into her skin as her hips rolled up, up, up, meeting her in motion just how their rhythm came to be years ago. Fuck â the sigh escaped her, and then the pace picked up.Â
Pressure inside her body built like a tide, relentlessly rising. The world narrowed down to nothing but sensation â fingers, a hot press of a mouth against her collarbone, their hips moving together in sync. Obscene. Filthy. Disgustingly enamored â the words formed then dissolved in her mind.Â
Iâve got you, the murmur vibrated against her skin, I got you, so let go. Let go, Kyoshi, please. For me.
That please did something devastating to whatever was left of Kyoshiâs sanity. Sheâd never known Rangi as a beggar â and even if she asked, her voice never cracked, never jostled into breathlessness, she never trembled trying to hold back like this before.Â
It made her want to give Rangi everything, just so she could hear her like that again. Close, she was so close â the tension coiled tighter and tighter in her body, fingers clawing at Rangiâs back, her breath coming in short, muffled gasps that barely counted as air.
She called out her name, and reassurance awaited. Iâm here, she repeated, three times over, or maybe more, until the the crash, the wave, the obliteration of her being washed over her and she â
Kyoshiâs eyes flew open.
ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»ă»
Well? How'd you enjoy that? Totally not profusely sweating after writing something like this for the two of them, so openly. Can you try to guess how this even came to in the first place? Let me know! Once again, thank you so much for the patience, both with me and my characteristic delays ... I appreciate all the blessings I'm given, and I hope you all stay safe & healthy until the next time we can talk!
I need someone to talk about this. But anyone else love those parts in the avatar novels specifically the ones written by Yee where things feel so out of pocket. Idk how to describe it, but for example in the dawn of Yangchen when Kavik is stuck somewhere and can't do a whole lot cause he might get 'shot at' by one of those fire benders and he for some reason feels calm and relaxed because he trusts the avatar so much and then directly after that you get Yangchen's pov where she's thinking 'he's going to die'. Sorry but this man has such good comedic timing if you ask me.
Same thing now, reading the legacy of Yangchen somewhere at the beginning and Kavik's like I'm expierincing a downgrade compared to last time cause last time I got all of this and all of that. And then 'this time she rolled him up in a carpet'.
Also just all those scenes especially the Jianzhu ones (fuck that man) where he's talking formally while insulting/mocking them in his head. I know this post is so stupid but I just love it so much, and I've never really seen this translated so well to books, like shows and films do this all the time but with books I don't see it often.
I'm curious about Hei-Ran and her relationship with her mother in your fic. And what she was like too. Because from what I saw she was bad. Like almost verbally, physically, and maybe mentally abusive, or is? When she was past curfew for an hour, that was insane, Hei-Ran also thinks that if she got home looking like Rangi did she would make her wounds tenfold worse! Calling her a disgrace and basically cutting her out entirely. She also said her mother idea of making her was through fear and obedience. I need to know more and also why you chose to write her that way, if you don't mind.
Hey :-)
I am happy to elaborate on this topic, although there is not much to say in particular as it provides no genuine significance to the story, it was just a gentle nudge to the older generations.
I'm personally Eastern European, and I know that our Mothers go hand in hand with Asian parents and Arabic parents in terms of strictness. The example I particularly used for her to tell is one I am fairly closely familiar with, as my Grandma was and still is a very strict woman who ran the household on a really tight schedule, to the point of my Mother's side of the family feeling insanely suffocated by her. It did come with capital punishment, one slip-up ending up ten times worse, just in general a bad time if you disobeyed.
I wanted to replicate this sensation that even though it's only been a generation or two, a lot of these things dissipated, but I feel like everyone's parents likely had it rough. So the example was meant to resemble this. Realistically speaking, on the basis of logic, which I know is not the ruler of all matter all the tims; I envision the unnamed Mother as someone who is very competent, very careful, trying to maintain an image for herself and her family that is worthy of talking about. A daughter's missteps can make or break such reputation; holding the reins with an iron fist will make it go straight, but it's not engrained into people forever so long they are taught contrary examples of the heart's way.
Arguably, she's bad for us to witness. But can a Mother who wants well be considered only bad? It's just as colorful as anything else, a matter of perspective if you like. She's a tough Mother who wants her daughter to live a fulfilling life and pass down the family name they have been building for many generations. It is only normal she treats her a specific way. It's cruel and a stretch for sure but with how I wanted it to go, she had to set an example: that example later on got a bit less prominent and focused in Hei-Ran's point of view, as her priorities mixed with Junsik's, who, in my little coconut head, is way softer. Which is why Rangi has a whole arc of going through the confusion of expectations, as both sides resembled something different. It's never so simple, is it?
So to answer: I wrote her to be this way because in my mind, logically, this makes the most sense, and I have known fearsome women like this in my life putting daughters through this thing. Plus it is in a way a stereotype how tough Asian parents are; it was meant to resemble that as well. I hope this answer is good enough! Thank you for asking me!! I'm happy to answer anything.
Imagine being the avatar that single handedly saved the world several times and brought back the whole air bender population from the brink of extinction and some cunt still has the nerve to say "the previous avatar let us down" Korra should have ended the world sooner
employers will sit you down to tell you what feedback theyâve received about you, what you need to improve on, and to think about how youâll do it.
but if i think about it, nobody has ever sat me down to ask if i even think this career is something i can do. so, i ask every struggling junior that difficult question.
is this something you know you can do if you put your heart in it? or is this something that will kill?
thereâs a difference between growing pains and cutting away pieces of yourself to fit into a job that does not inherently suit you. one is a metamorphosis - a painful shedding of your form, safely in a cocoon, and emerging anew. the other is akin to walking barefoot down a rocky road into a forest, each step wearing away flesh to expose bone, your blood seeping into the ground to nourish grotesque imitations of living trees.
and kids these days⊠they know it. deep in their hearts, by god, they know. the adults keep telling them to stay, to ride it out just like i did, that âit gets better with experience.â
it doesnât. if a job isnât suited for you, it will get better for a while. it is like radiation. it poisons you till you feel good, and everyone thinks youâve finally got it, youâve made it-
and then you die. not in the physical form, no. your shell holds, even as you crumble within, dissolving into fluid like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
but thereâs no metamorphosis for you. the blueprints that would have birthed a butterfly are gone. you might be able to find them again, if the rat race would let you curl into yourself and breathe.