of the polytrix babies, the one who never stops wanting kisses when they’re little is hani. she’s not as demanding as her baby sister will eventually be, so she just purses her lips and turns her cheek towards whatever parent is holding her as a signal that she really wants kisses. and of course her parents adore giving them to her.
so they keep kissing her little cheek over and over and over again, expecting her to eventually stop wanting them.
but she doesnt. she never gives any indication that she wants them to stop kissing her cheek. in fact, if they try, hani starts pouting and crossing her arms and welling up tears in her eyes, and it startles them because holy shit that’s all three of them’s brat moves in one. they can all practically hear her using their usual lines, too (mira’s “you hate me? you hate me so much and you wish i was dead?”, zoey’s “wowwww, i can’t believe my own wives hate me, this is so fucking tragic”, and of course, rumi’s simple “oh. so you hate me.”)
and, well, they can’t let their daughter think they hate her.
so they keep giving her infinite cheek kisses until she falls asleep.
I discovered this a few months ago, when I was searching ways of saying "I love u" to my girlfriend and I literally sob when I see the why of the sign of Mark T-T
As soon as she met him and understood who he truly is.
He's the reason she survived all these years. Apollo is more than a godly parent to her—he is a friend, the only one she managed to keep her whole life.
━━━━━━━━━━
Mira doesn't like having to pray. She hates the obligation to set aside a portion of her food for her mother and pray to her, as if Aphrodite deserves anything good that Mira can give her.
But she does.
She prays every day to set an example for the other children in her Cabin.
━━━━━━━━━━
No one knows who Rumi prays to.
The most accurate assumption would be that she prays to Ares, as she's a head counselor and a demigod with the blessing of her godly parent. But every day Rumi sets aside two portions of her food. A custom that everyone considers somewhat ironic, given the many rumors about Rumi's hatred for the gods.
Rumi prays to two gods every day ever since she was taught that she should pray. Ever since Jinu taught her to set aside the best part of the food and offer it to their father, Ares.
But Rumi doesn't pray to Ares anymore.
Every day she sets aside a portion of her food for Hades. She thanks him for keeping the Underworld functioning and begs him that all friends she has lost are safe in the Elysian Fields.
As a child, she used to ask Hades to give her mothers and Jinu back to her. But she grew up and understood that it was no longer within the god's power, and she began to thank him every day. To this day, the only thing she begs for is that Miyeoung and Celine did not end up in the Fields of Asphodel. She prays that her mothers, who died honorably trying to save her, had a better fate—they deserve to join the heroes in the Elysian Fields.
And Rumi prays to Hestia. She kneels to thank the goddess for giving her a home even after the loss of her mothers, and to beg her to keep Camp Half-Blood safe. She asks her for guidance to protect her home. And she promises her every day that she will die fighting for the safety of the people she loves.
If Jianzhu ever managed to overcome his deep rooted internalised homophobia (extremely unlikely) he would lowkey be one of those people who say that pride parades and Micro labels are what is causing homophobia.
The (belated) Anniversary of “museum of failure or gallery of trying?” 𖥔 05/02
First of all — 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 — 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 — 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 — 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:
⭑ Subscriptions: 17 — that is seventeen whole people who receive update e-mails anytime I update this work!
⭑ Hits: 3,235
⭑ Kudos: 106
⭑ Comment threads: 61
⭑ Bookmarks: 24
⭑ 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 — 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 — 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. That’s 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?
All the lights were turned low, it would have been awkward to turn them off and take space in the darkness, wouldn’t it? Kyoshi didn’t mind the distant dim light, not more than the presence that made her feel like her worst nights years ago were child’s 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 wind’s 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 – she wasn’t even sure it was audible when she hummed, “Was it hard for you, Rangi? To leave like that?”
Excitement coursed through her veins for all the wrong reasons. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way… to feel any way.
“Leaving you was the hardest part.”
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.
“Did you mean it when you said you never loved me?”
Such an insecure question. She knew – knew, that…
“No.”
She didn’t mean it.
Idiotic. Kyoshi’s 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 Kyoshi’s curiosity. Perhaps she didn’t 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.
“Did you ever… replace me?”
It all came down to that, didn’t it? Ego. Importance. Pride. It didn’t matter, so why’d 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.
“No.”
I didn’t either. I couldn’t. Would you shame me for that? That I desperately clutched onto the daydreams that one day you’d be back?
Oh, how sweet. Rangi was telling the truth now, right? Deep down, Kyoshi hoped that was the case. Wasn’t this what she wanted from the moment she fell for her? To be the only one in her life? It wasn’t 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 – 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.
I missed you.
Was what she said, and it wasn’t the honesty of the notion that made Kyoshi shiver – 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 wasn’t fair to be approached like this, not now, after all, she had feelings too, didn’t she? Dignity, or something else she could mock herself with.
The warm hands – always warm without an exception – came for her cheeks. A thumb rubbed her skin, igniting a light in its wake. Kyoshi’s own hand rose to cup Rangi’s, 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. Rangi’s hand took Kyoshi’s, 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 Kyoshi’s hammering heart. There was no warning, perhaps no thought even when Rangi’s hand came to Kyoshi’s 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. Kyoshi’s breath caught – this couldn’t be real –, her body stilled for just a moment, before it inevitably gave in.
Before she could think better – as if she could now – 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 – 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 – a feverish push and pull, Rangi’s left sinking to her waist, right cupping her cheek – broke, just barely.
Don’t, Kyoshi warned, her breath uneven and voice desperate.
Rangi didn’t go far. Not far enough to escape. Not again.
I know. she murmured, and Kyoshi exhaled softly – something alike a laugh, or a protest, perhaps shame. Maybe all of them at once.
You – I… shouldn’t…
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 Rangi’s, her hips unwarrantedly arching upwards, seeking contact, warmth, more.
You should, the response bounced back without hesitation, honest as a knife’s 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 Kyoshi’s stomach, fingers stretching wide, moving slow. But you don’t.
No, she shook her head, breathless and flustered. I don’t.
There was no telling what her hands would do next – they acted as if they had a mind of their own, sliding beneath the hem of Rangi’s 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 Rangi’s nails biting into her skin. She’s still sensitive, it seemed. The acknowledgement felt sinfully right, flooding Kyoshi’s 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 Rangi’s left thigh could fit snugly in between. Her hand rose to cover her cheek – the skin burned under her fingertips.
A kiss was planted into her palm, before Rangi would pull Kyoshi’s 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 Kyoshi’s jaw, kissing a steady, confident trail up all the way to her ear, where her teeth grazed the skin lightly. Kyoshi’s hold tightened, her fingers clenching against Rangi’s 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 – 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.
The words had a mind-boggling effect on her. Kyoshi’s free hand sank to Rangi’s 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 wouldn’t have broken like a poorly patched up dam – she wouldn’t 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. I’d wake up and reach for you and –
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 – their mingled breaths, the distant howl of the wind and fabric against fabric as Rangi pulled a little back. I know. I’m sorry, she whispered, her left idle on Kyoshi’s cheek for a prolonged glance, before she would offer a chaste kiss. I’m so sorry.
Even the kiss was filled with it.
You’re trembling.
Was she? Kyoshi didn’t notice.
I’m 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.
Only if it was that easy…
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.
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 – she never really was adequate at denying Rangi anything she asked for.
It doesn’t work that way, she replied in a hush, voice quaking. You can’t just –
Can’t just what?
Rangi interrupted against her skin, the line of her nose brushing Kyoshi’s jawline as she planted another kiss. Trailing down, Rangi’s 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.
Can’t 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 Kyoshi’s core and made her hips buck involuntarily. All the control imposed on her was now infuriating – and it wasn’t clear to Kyoshi either whether she wanted to strangle her, or… surrender.
That’s – ah, she was interrupted mid thought by an ample bite, ambitious of you.
Laughter sounded against her skin and the vibrations from it made Kyoshi’s fingers clench against Rangi’s shirt by the hip. I had so much time to think what I’d 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 Kyoshi’s devotion.
A last shred of pride, a final attempt at resistance that would prove she wasn’t completely pathetic, wasn’t completely hers to command even after all this time… that was what she needed to show, right now.
Do it then, she nodded.
The sound Rangi made was somewhere between a laugh and a moan, and then her mouth was on Kyoshi’s again, kissing her with ferocity that left no room for doubt, no room for the past, no room for anything but the present – the slide of tongue against tongue, the press of bodies trying to close distance the years placed between them.
The familiarity of Rangi’s 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.
You’ve lost weight, the words murmured against Kyoshi’s collarbone, and she could swear Rangi sounded somber, almost worried for a moment. You’re not eating enough.
She had no right to remember things like this. How could she tell? She didn’t know her good enough anymore, yet she couldn’t be more spot on.
The topic wasn’t pushed further, thankfully. Kyoshi’s thoughts jumbled and stirred as Rangi’s 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.
It was almost too much, the dance of the fingertips on her side, the kisses right where her heart resided. You’re so beautiful, the voice bubbled from below, and Kyoshi’s knees jolted slightly, squeezing around her. I’m so sorry, she inhaled sharply, biting into her flesh. Kyoshi’s mind flashed red as her fingers clenched around Rangi’s dark locks.
I don’t want your apologies now, she shuddered. No matter how great it felt, grounded in the moment felt simply better.
Rangi shifted back with her entire body now, making space so she could continue her way down Kyoshi’s stomach. She quivered. Tell me what you want then, and it’s yours. Anything. Everything.
Kyoshi’s thoughts revolved around the past. She wanted to go back and fix it all – she wanted Rangi to stay, to choose her intentionally, to love her so much it wouldn’t 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.
Rangi’s 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 Kyoshi’s 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 Kyoshi’s stomach clenched with raw desire. Pathetic. The hand wiggled free from her weak hold and resumed its journey. Kyoshi’s whole body had gone taut like a pulled back bowstring in mere seconds even after the tiniest brush.
It’s been so long – so long, and the sensation was overwhelming and it made her so ecstatic. Snuggling into the crook Rangi’s 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 – the sigh escaped her, and then the pace picked up.
Pressure inside her body built like a tide, relentlessly rising. The world narrowed down to nothing but sensation – fingers, a hot press of a mouth against her collarbone, their hips moving together in sync. Obscene. Filthy. Disgustingly enamored – the words formed then dissolved in her mind.
I’ve 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 Kyoshi’s sanity. She’d never known Rangi as a beggar – and even if she asked, her voice never cracked, never jostled into breathlessness, she never trembled trying to hold back like this before.
It made her want to give Rangi everything, just so she could hear her like that again. Close, she was so close – the tension coiled tighter and tighter in her body, fingers clawing at Rangi’s back, her breath coming in short, muffled gasps that barely counted as air.
She called out her name, and reassurance awaited. I’m 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 –
Kyoshi’s eyes flew open.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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!
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