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firelxdykatara · 5 years

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Day 2: Hidden Identities

So this is a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short! (lol kill me my jokes suck) ANYWAY, this is for Day 2 of @thirtydaysofzutara and was heavily inspired by @artcraawl‘s amazing Zutara Mulan AU pictures. Some of it is directly from the movie, some is embellished, anyway I hope it’s a fun read, as I certainly had fun writing it!

---

“I don’t know if I can do this, Tui.”

Katara gave one more half-hearted tug, but her father’s sword remained stubbornly embedded in the tree’s trunk. With a sigh, she flopped to the ground, thumping her fists against the hard-packed soil in frustration. Her companion, a silver dragon-lizard with impossibly black eyes, scurried up the tree and perched on the flat of the blade, tugging gently, but to no avail. “It’ll come out! You just have- to be- persistent!”

With a final tug, the lizard slipped from the blade and fell to the ground. Katara pushed herself up on her elbows with a groan. “I’ve been persistent! It’s not working! I haven’t even been able to get that stupid arrow out of the pole.”

“No one else has, either,” Tui pointed out, curling her tail over her shoulder and rubbing a spot of dirt from her scales.

“That’s not the point.” Katara sat up and pushed herself to her feet. “They belong here. They don’t have to prove anything.”

“Neither do you, as far as they know.”

“Sure, and what happens when they find-”

“Who are you talking to, Tak?”

Katara froze. Tui scampered into the bushes with an alarmed squeak, and the moment stretched uncomfortably, as the woman tried desperately to convince herself that voice belonged to someone—anyone—else. It didn’t work; she was pretty sure she could feel his amber gaze burning holes into her back.

He had the disconcerting ability to make her feel like he could see right through her façade—through the warrior she was trying to be, to the scared, homesick girl beneath.

Time sped up again, and Katara turned to look at Zuko, who was standing behind her with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

“Uh…” she began, before realizing her voice was pitched too high, coughing to cover it up. “No one! I’m just, talking to… myself…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand (mostly to hide the fact that she kept reaching for a lock of hair that just wasn’t there anymore). Her eyes slid to her sword, still sunk into the tree trunk, about the same time Zuko’s did. Disapproval radiated from his lithe form in waves, and Katara had to fight back the nervous laughter that kept threatening to bubble up.

“Oh, this is… I was just training…” she said, grabbing the hilt tightly in both hands. It still refused to move, and she braced herself with one foot on the trunk. Finally, with an almighty yank, the sword came free, and the momentum sent her careening off-balance.

Zuko ducked just in time—the blade passed a hair’s breadth over his head.

“Oops,” Katara muttered, giving a weak chuckle as she clumsily shoved her sword back into its sheath. “Cut it a little close there-” Spirits, Katara, stop talking.

The captain looked less than impressed as he straightened back up, looking at her with some emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t quite describe. Then he sighed, shaking his head. “Pack up.”

Something churned unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach. “What?”

“Go home. You’re through here, Tak. I’ve tried my best, but you just aren’t suited for war—not in my company. And if you’re the best that Chief Hakoda could send in his own stead-” He broke off, squaring his shoulders. “You’d be more of a danger to your own comrades than the Fire Nation soldiers. And I won’t have good men, even you, needlessly killed because they weren’t ready.”

Katara watched as he walked away, trying very hard to keep from noticing the way his muscles had tensed (probably from anger) beneath the thin padding of his training vest. “He’s right. I know he is. But…”

Tui poked her head out of the bushes. “But you want to prove him wrong.”

A wry grimace twisted at her mouth. “I was too willful and stubborn to make a good wife, remember? It must be good for something.”

“So what are you going to do?”

The sun had set, the last of its amber glow receding from the skyline just as the full moon began to peek through the clouds. “I don’t know…” Katara murmured, gazing up at the sky—she traced the moonbeams with her eyes, until she caught one that illuminated the arrow still stuck at the top of that tall, wooden beam.

She could have had it down weeks ago, if she’d wanted to risk waterbending—but it was supposed to be a physical exercise. For all that she was at a disadvantage compared to the rest of the company (not that anyone but Sokka realized it), the last thing she wanted to do was prove herself by cheating. But there had to be some way to get to that arrow. And maybe, if she got it down herself…

Hours later, the only thing preventing her from screaming in frustration was the fact that Zuko’s tent was only ten feet away. “Come on,” she grunted, taking another running jump at the pole—and, as before, she made it a few feet before falling to the ground in an ungainly heap.

She might have had a better chance at getting higher, if not to the top, if it weren’t for the weights at her wrists. Katara picked herself up for the thousandth time, dropping the weights and dusting herself off. (It was a good thing her family didn’t seem to have the ‘quitter’ gene, or she might have contemplated just leaving, like she’d been told.) She couldn’t help the nagging feeling that there was something about this exercise that was missing, that she just didn’t understand. She picked up the weights again, holding them in front of her, inspecting the etchings in the gold. It was an ancient form of Earth Kingdom script, and she could only make out a few letters.

Somehow, she doubted anyone had carved a cheat sheet onto these things a thousand years ago, anyway.

But as the weights swayed gently on their leather ties, something occurred to her—it was so simple she could almost kick herself for not thinking of it sooner. It was so obvious. It wasn’t just about having to struggle against the weight. It was about discipline and strength—using them to her advantage.

Squaring her shoulders, Katara faced the pole again—this time, when she jumped, she swung the weights, tangling the leather ties together, and she began to climb.

Halfway up, she almost wanted to let go, forget the whole thing. Her arms were screaming in protest, and she kept slipping even as she gained inches in height—sweat was streaming down her face in small rivers, and she could feel her tunic sticking to her back. The cotton binding around her breasts was beginning to itch something fierce. But she had already gotten too far to quit, and so she kept going—gaining inches and losing centimeters, until she could see the top of the pole. She could almost reach out and grab that arrow.

The sun began to peek over the horizon once more, and Katara gasped for breath, her muscles screaming in agony as she grabbed the top of the pole and finally pulled herself up. It was a deceptively wide beam of wood, in fact, and easy enough to perch on was she grabbed the arrow in one tender hand and pulled it free.

It was only when the cheering began that she realized she’d drawn a crowd.

A tired grin crossed her face, and she subtley bent some of her sweat, coating the arrow-head with a thin layer of ice. Just as Zuko’s tent flap opened, she threw the arrow down—it landed with impressive accuracy, thudding into the ground at his feet as he stepped out. He looked up at her, and while it was difficult to tell from how far away she was, Katara almost thought he looked proud.

---

“I’m sorry. About your uncle.” Katara winced inwardly—she kept forgetting to pitch her voice low enough, but Zuko didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at the fire; if he’d heard a word she said, he didn’t indicate it. Which was almost a relief—she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get into a conversation about lost loved ones and not accidentally blow her own cover.

Sokka had been helping as much as he dared, once he’d realized her plan, but there was only so much he could do to keep her from ruining everything with her ‘stupid girly habits’.

Apparently, talking about feelings qualified.

Either way, Zuko clearly wasn’t in the mood for company. Katara turned to go—if she hadn’t already become so tuned to the tenor of his voice, for reasons she couldn’t even begin to explain, she might have missed it entirely when he said, “Thank you, Tak.”

She stopped, glancing back at him—he was giving her at least an attempt at a smile, and it suddenly struck her how very young he looked. Especially for a captain.

He really couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than she was, and it was hard enough for her to manage to keep her own life straight—she couldn’t imagine what it was like trying to lead an entire company.

She opened her mouth to say something else—she wasn’t quite sure what, but since when had thinking ever stopped her from blurting out what was on her mind?—when she heard the screech of a bird of prey high in the sky above them. It sounded familiar, almost… almost like…

She was six years old, and the snow had turned grey from falling ash. Buildings burned, people were screaming and running away, bursts of fire from soldiers in the streets kept illuminating the overcast sky, and Katara couldn’t find her parents.

“Mama!” she shouted, tears streaking through the soot stains on her face, running towards her house. Everything was chaos, but she still knew home. Somewhere, high in the sky, a fire hawk screamed—the little girl could see it circling over her family’s hut, an omen she couldn’t quite comprehend.

When she opened the door, the smell of charred flesh nearly knocked her off her feet. It was-

“The Fire Nation!” Katara heard herself shouting, those last images from her memory still superimposed over her vision, the smell sticking to her all these years later. She wanted to gag, but there was no time. “They’re here! They-“

An arrow whistled through the air and into Zuko’s shoulder as he stood, knocking him flat.

“Zuko!” Katara rushed to his side as more arrows floated into view just over the snowy hilltop—he waved her off, pulling the arrow free with a grunt and clambering to his feet.

“Everyone, get out of their range! Grab the cannons!”

It was pure chaos, after that. Zuko’s company scattered—they grabbed armloads of cannons and their weapons and ran, forcing the Fire Nation soldiers to abandon their high ground advantage if they wanted to do any real damage. Out of range of the arrows was also out of range of their firebenders, and it took everything Katara had not to panic and freeze.

“Sokka!” The relief nearly knocked her over, but she held her ground, grabbing for her brother’s hand and yanking him out of the way of another arrow barrage. “Where’s Zuko? Is he-”

“He’s fine! We need to set up these canons, Tak. Now!”

Their answering barrage sent shockwaves rippling through the ground—when they were down to the last cannon, Zuko appeared behind them. “Hold- we don’t know who’s left. If…”

He trailed off. The smoke cleared, and revealed the bulk of the Fire Nation army still intact on the hillside.

Ozai was at the army’s head. Katara could feel his smug smirk from here.

“Sokka, take that last canon. Hit Ozai, if it’s the last thing you do!” Zuko commanded. “Men- prepare for a fight!”

Katara’s hand went to her sword hilt, but something was still bothering her. Taking out Ozai wouldn’t decimate the Fire Nations forces—they’d keep coming, they’d kill everyone. How many more villages would suffer the way Omashu had? The way her tribe had? The way-

She caught sight of the snow-covered mountain just behind them. They weren’t going to have time to retreat back through the mountain passes to safety, but maybe, if she could only just… She reached, but nothing. Practicing her bending in secret had only gotten her so far, and that snow was too far off. But…

“Give me that!” She pushed Sokka aside and grabbed the cannon. It would work. It had to.

---

Katara was beginning to lose feeling in her arms. She hadn’t realized Ozai’s blade had cut that deep, but now Koda’s saddle was soaked in her blood, and she had barely been able to muster the strength to grab Zuko and pull him to safety.

The avalanche had stilled, snow wiping the last traces of the Fire Nation army away, and Katara finally slid from her horse’s back, stumbling to her knees. Zuko had regained consciousness, and he rushed to her side. “Tak! Are you alright?”

She gripped his arm and pulled herself upright, nodding weakly. “I’m fine, is everyone else-”

“We made it, Tak,” Toph said, affectionately thumping her shoulder. “Thanks to you. That was brilliant.”

The others chimed in, and Katara smiled, for just a moment. And then she collapsed.

When she opened her eyes, she recognized the colors of the medical tent above her cot. For a moment, Katara was dazed, confused—how had she gotten here? Where were Zuko, Sokka and the others? How-

Her clothing had been removed. The breast binding wraps were visible, overlapping the bandages around her abdomen. The doctor was looking at her, perhaps to be sure she was truly awake, but when she opened her mouth to speak, he turned away and left the tent.

Katara sat up quickly, wincing at the tight feeling of the wound in her stomach, wanting to protest—but then Zuko stepped inside, and the words died in her throat.

It was then that she realized her hair was loose—the thick, dark brown waves that just brushed against her shoulders were much more visibly feminine now that she no longer wore them in her father’s hairstyle, and the breast wraps had only been effective at hiding her figure when covered by padding and armour. Now, she felt her cheeks burn as Zuko’s eyes followed her figure, and realized the truth of what the doctor had obviously told him.

“So it’s true,” came Long Feng’s voice as he entered the tent behind Zuko. Where the latter’s gaze was completely unreadable, Long Feng didn’t bother to disguise his disgust. He surged forward, grabbing Katara by the arm and dragging her out of the tent, throwing her into the snow with just her blanket for cover. She fell to her knees before the rest of the company, tears of humiliation freezing to her lashes before they even had a chance to fall.

“A woman,” Long Feng hissed. “A despicable traitor to our great kingdom!”

Toph and Aang stared in shock. Sokka started forward, but Katara shook her head. It was too late for her, but she would not let her brother take the fall, too. “My name is Katara. I only came here to save my father-”

“More lies!” Long Feng insisted, turning to glare at her as Zuko approached. “Devious snake!”

“I never meant for it to go this far!” Her eyes met Zuko’s, and she pleaded with him silently. Please understand. “You have to believe me! I only wanted-”

“Silence!” Long Feng shouted.

Sokka ran forward. “Wait! You can’t do this—she’s my sister!”

“Sokka, no!”

But the damage was done. “You knew about her deception?” Long Feng was practically quivering with rage. “Stand aside, boy, or you will share in this traitor’s fate!”

“Sokka, please-”

He refused to budge. Katara could still see Zuko, staring at the both of them now, sword in hand. He took a step forward, and several gasps ran through the company—Toph and Aang looked ready to rush to their defense, but Long Feng threw his arm out and stopped them. “You know the law!”

For just a moment, Katara met Zuko’s eyes, and thought she saw something flickering in their depths. Something other than anger or disgust. Something warm.

Then it was gone, and Zuko threw his sword to the ground. “A life for a life,” he said, staring down at her. “My debt to you is ended.” Finally, as if only now realizing he was there, Zuko looked at Sokka. “Take her home. Don’t bother coming back.”

He turned on his heel—Long Feng made a noise, as if he were about to protest, but Zuko turned on him with a glower that could’ve melted steel. The advisor finally cowed into silence, he turned to the rest of his men and motioned for them to move out.

---

“You trusted Tak. Why is Katara any different?”

“You stole my victory.” “No! I did!” “… The soldier from the mountain!”

“She’s a woman, and from the water tribes! She’s not worth protecting!”

“I have heard all about you, Katara of the Water Tribes. You followed your brother off to war—stole your father’s armour and ran away from home. You impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Earth Kingdom, and… you have saved us all.”

It was… surreal. That was the only way Katara could describe the feeling that overtook her, when she realized that not only was the Earth King bowing, but so was the entirety of Ba Sing Se. As far as the eye could see, citizens were stooping low, and it was all but impossible to believe they were honoring her.

Even Zuko was bowing—even her brother. She wanted to tell them all to stand up, that she really hadn’t done anything that extraordinary, but she didn’t want to risk losing the King’s good faith. The moment eventually passed, anyway, and Katara turned to find the Earth King smiling warmly at her.

“I would be honored if you would accept a seat on my council, Katara,” he said—Long Feng looked like he was about to faint.

“B- but sir, you can’t just- there are no positions open!”

“Alright. You can have his job.”

This time, he did faint. Katara had to smother a chuckle before taking a deep breath and shaking her head. “You honor me, your majesty, but… I think it’s time for me to go home.”

He nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less of her.

The Earth King gave her his medallion and Ozai’s sword, and when Katara finally turned to go, she very nearly ran right into Zuko. “Oh! Zuko, I-”

“Katara-” he began, at the same time. They both broke off; Katara bit her lip, waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat. “I, uh- you fight good. Well! Proficiently, you- you’re an excellent soldier.”

Their eyes met, but Katara was the first to look away, this time. “Oh. Thank you, Zuko. For everything.” And then she left, finding Koda and pulling herself into his saddle to begin the long journey home.

“You don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty,” the Earth King declared—sounding very much like he was calling Zuko an idiot.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” From a distance, Katara could hear Grandma Kanna’s voice, “Would you like to stay forever?!” Zuko laughed. “Dinner would be great.”

#zutara #katara #zuko #zutara mulan au #zutara month #my writing #day 2

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thisselflovecamebacktome · 5 years

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Kurt felt his feet scraping across the ground as he forced himself down the hallway. The last few weeks had left him feeling so small. Dave and Santana being outted, Dave’s suicide attempt, losing out on both class presidency and the main role in A West Side Story; every bit of life seemed to be weighing him down recently. And then there was Blaine.

Ever since Blaine had enrolled at McKinley, the two of them seemed to be parting ways more as each day went past. Of course Sebastian’s arrival hadn’t helped the situation, but deep down Kurt knew those same issues had been festering for a while. At times, Kurt found himself wondering if he was mismatched with Blaine; if Blaine would be happier with someone like Sebastian, someone more… spontaneous. Or at least someone who would answer his calls. Since that night, the sheer sound of Blaine’s voice was off-putting to Kurt. All that would come to mind was his hands spreading out and grabbing at Kurt, taking as much as he could like a kid with a candy bowl. The memory left a bad taste in Kurt’s mouth; almost as bad as remembering he had apologised for rejecting Blaine’s advances. At the time, Kurt had convinced himself that Blaine was right, that he had just been spoiling the fun, but the bad taste remained nonetheless.

The one positive that had come out of the last few weeks was that the New Directions had reunited. To the surprise of everybody, Rachel had suggested giving others a chance to sing at Nationals, as long as she got her solo of course. It did mean, however, that all choreography the group had begun to work on prior to the girls coming back now had to be changed. And with Rachel’s two left feet and Tina’s quieter nature, Kurt was called in by Quinn to help choreograph and teach the new routine.

On better days, Kurt didn’t mind helping out. Today was not one of those days. After the hypocritical mess Blaine pulled singing It’s Not Right But It’s Okay, Kurt was in no mood to see the glee club. Regardless, both Rachel and Quinn had insisted that with Nationals coming up, every chance they can get to practice had to be used.

As he entered the room, Kurt could all but feel the atmosphere change. Quiet whispers stopped as Finn stood up. Giving signal to the others, Kurt watched as they followed him, each one of them approaching him as Puck closed the door.

“Why are you all acting like you’re about to give an interve… oh my god, this is an intervention, isn’t it? Look I know Blaine gave a messed up image of us but it’s not going to affect the tea…”

“We just want to talk,” Finn interrupted, gesturing Kurt a seat.

Kurt bit his lip before shuffling his feet over to the seat. The awkward silence continued. Filled with uncertainty, Finn’s eyes shuffled between the boys’ and Rachel’s before she sighed and spoke up.

“What’s going on with you Kurt?”

The others scolded the brunette’s bluntness before being reminded that no one else was willing to ask. As they begun to quarrel, Quinn shut them down.

“What Rachel meant was is everything okay? You’ve had a tough year, not to mention everything you’re still dealing with from last year and we just wanted to check in. If our conversation after Karofsky taught me anything, it’s that none of us should assume that people are coping when they’re in strife.”

“I’m fine.”

The words sped out of Kurt’s mouth like a horse belting toward the finish line. Kurt could feel how untrue the statement was as he spoke the words, yet he still found himself faking a smile in hopes to convince the others. It didn’t work. As he looked over at Mercedes, her disappointment hit him, forcing him to look at the ground.

“Honey,” she started, “the truth is you haven’t been yourself for a long time now. And it’s clear that Blaine going behind your back for the West Side Story role has made things worse, especially after his performance today. We got to hear his side, now it’s only fair we hear yours.”

Kurt stuttered for a moment before falling silent. His head went back and forth arguing over what to say next. On one hand, this was his relationship. It wasn’t any concern, or business for that matter, of the others. Not to mention Blaine was already upset with him, why make things worse? But at the same time, they were his friends and they were there trying to help. Even Santana and Puck had shown up. Regardless, Kurt couldn’t find the words.

“It’s nothing, I’ll fix things up with Blaine later on,” He lied before sighing, “Thank you though Mercedes, for setting this up.”

“It wasn’t me,” Mercedes smiled, looking over at Finn.

Kurt blinked before staring at Finn.

“I’m your brother Kurt. I’m worried about you. Nothing you say is going to change that. I, I just couldn’t find the words to say that, so I called in these guys.”

Silence filled the room again. Kurt find his eyes shuffling back to the ground. Mike moved next to Kurt, placing his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and assuring him it’d be alright.

“You’re wrong about the show being the issue,” Kurt started, “Around the time the role was allocated, Sebastian came into the picture…”

“The jerk from Daltons who was trying to get onto Blaine?” Tina enquired.

“Yeah him,” Kurt muttered, “except it wasn’t just him trying to get Blaine. Blaine was responding and meeting up with him behind my back. The night before the opening day of the show, Sebastian invited us to some bar. Blaine spent the whole night getting drunk and dancing with him until it was time to leave. I got him to the car and he wouldn’t stop touching me. I yelled for him to stop, but he, he just wouldn’t. Eventually I shoved him off and he yelled at me before leaving, but things just haven’t been the same since.”

“That hobbit tried to rape you?” Santana shouted.

Kurt shook his head as he began to stutter. Being barely comprehensible, he started saying it was his fault and how he had apologised the next day. As the eyes of those around him widened, Quinn interrupted.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Quinn’s right,” Puck jumped in before looking at Quinn in guilt, “It’s not your fault he tried to take advantage of you after knowing you had drunken.”

“Actually, I was the designated driver, so I was sober.” Kurt explained.

“Dude it doesn’t matter,” Finn said, “He doesn’t get to treat you like that.”

Unable to find the words, Kurt fell silent. Deep down he knew Finn was right and that once upon a time, there would be no way Kurt would let himself be treated like this, but things were different now. The realisation of dying alone had plagued his mind. He didn’t expect Finn or Rachel or any of the other straight members to understand. Finding a partner for them was like finding a penny. The opportunity was always there. Hell, even Santana and Brittany didn’t have to worry because they found the love of their lives already. But he hadn’t. The two gay men Kurt knew were Blaine and Karofsky, a boy who physically assaulted him for years. The thought that he may never find love crushed Kurt, but at least Blaine was something.

Before anyone spoke, a phone began to blare. Reaching in his pocket, Kurt noticed the number straight off, leading him to sigh.

“That’s him now,” he started, “I should probably get going.”

The group went to speak out, but Finn just shook his head at them. As Kurt gathered his things and started to walk out of the room, he heard Brittany’s voice come from behind him.

“Don’t forget we love you Kurt.”

Closing the door behind him, Kurt walked away. Once out of the building, he looked down at his phone, sighing as he pressed the number of the missed call. Before he was able to say anything, a voice cut in.

“Where are you Kurt? I called your dad when you didn’t answer and he said Finn told him you were at a glee meeting which clearly isn’t where you are. Are you with Chandler? Is that why you refused to answer my calls? I knew Finn was threatened by my talent but to help you do this is next level petty and you dragging him into it is just as bad.”

The voice continued rambling, cutting Kurt off as he tried to answer. Moments of incoherent rambling passed, lowering Kurt’s patience until all at once, it disappeared.

“Blaine, stop,” Kurt started, “I’m not with Chandler. The fact that you think so little of me as to not only accuse me of that but bring the glee club into it with your performance today shows just what you think of me.”

Stutters from the other end of the phone fell silent as Kurt pushed the red button. Stopping in his tracks, Kurt felt a sigh leave his chest. Confusion and guilt begun to set in as Kurt realised that despite his frustration, the sigh had been in relief, not despair. As the phone in his hand begun to vibrate again, he found himself clenching harder as he walked away. After minutes of nonstop ringing, Kurt hung up one final time before clicking the messaging button.

‘I’m sorry okay. Just give me time.’

Disgust hit Kurt as he pressed send. He continued walking as he thought about how things had gotten so bad between him and Blaine that the person he could tell everything to had become the person he felt he had to lie most to. The phone continued to buzz as several messages came through. With his patience falling, Kurt placed his phone in his bag, making sure to do so in a way where it would not noticeably vibrate off anything else.

As he reached his house, Kurt went straight into his bedroom, closing the door and grabbing out his phone. Upon seeing the endless stream of messages, Kurt ran his fingers through his hair, grasping then slightly yanking at it. His fingers began typing at the phone before deleting and typing again for several minutes before stopping and deleting it once more. He typed one final message.

‘We need to talk to someone Blaine. Meet me in Emma’s office tomorrow.’

Before Blaine could respond, Kurt heard his door twist. Placing the phone back in his bag, Kurt stood up. The door opened, leading Kurt to relax.

“Don’t come in unexpectedly Finn. You startled me.”

Finn stared at Kurt in silence for a moment before speaking.

“I just wanted to check that we’re cool after what happened. Look, I know I should have spoken to you privately before bringing in the others like that. I just didn’t know what to say. I think you need to tell Burt and my mum though, you know, about what Blaine did.”

Kurt felt his throat tighten with each word that came out of Finn’s mouth. His eyes began scanning the room, looking for anything else to talk about. Maybe an unclean surface to attend to or homework to do. But nothing came to mind. With an awkward expression on his face, Kurt looked back at Finn.

“We can’t tell dad. You heard about what he did to Karofsky and that was just some bully. Blaine’s my partner. He’d put him in hospital.”

“Maybe he should.”

Finn’s words came off louder and more abrasive than he had meant them, causing Kurt to flinch. In response, Kurt let out a sigh whilst saying Finn’s name. Another silence came over the room before Finn spoke.

“Kurt, we’ve gotta tell someone who can help you.”

“I don’t need help Finn. I’m fine.” Kurt lied.

“So you’d still be calling it fine if I did that to Rachel then? Or what about if Sam did it to Mercedes? Because that definitely wasn’t the case when you were telling me that what happened to Quinn was Puck’s fault and his alone.”

“Blaine didn’t get me drunk Finn. Plus, after what happened with Puck and Quinn, I know you’d never do that to Rachel, nor would the other guys with their girlfriends.”

“We never thought Blaine would do that to you Kurt.”

Finn’s words hit hard. Kurt tried to find words, but none came to him. Silence began to consume the room only to be broken by the vibrating sound coming from Kurt’s bag. Nothing was said, but the sympathetic look in Finn’s eyes made Kurt just uncomfortable enough to look away. Finn considered reaching out for Kurt’s arm before another vibrating noise from Kurt’s bad stopped him. Instead, he clenched his fist and sighed.

“At least tell mum.”

“You say that as if she wouldn’t just tell my dad.” Kurt said.

“She wouldn’t,” Finn started, “She’s been here before Kurt. I mean not sexually from what I know, but when I was little she had a relationship that really messed her up, the same way Blaine is messing you up right now. She’ll be able to help… Just think about it, yeah?”

With that, Finn walked away. Kurt sat back down on his bed, grabbing out his phone. Blaine had sent several messages stating why they didn’t need Emma involved and how everything was going to be okay. Kurt stared at the final message, a simple ‘I love you’, for several moments before placing the phone face down on the bed. Pulling himself up from the bed, Kurt walked over to the door, checking down the hallways for Finn before closing it. As the door clicked shut, Kurt felt his body slide down to the ground as began to cry.

#this is just a draft for the first part of my anti klaine story because tumblr won't let me send it to people rip

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sanders-specs · 6 years

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Camp Swan Chapter 3

A/N: Yay we’ve survived another week! Hope everything is going okay for ya. If not then I’m confident it will! Stay strong :) For now let’s delve back into our summer camp adventures.

Warnings: Swearing, homophobic slurs, bullying, intentionally not eating, social anxiety (at least how I understand it. Again, if I get anything wrong feel free to let me know)

Parings: None. Just a flirty Roman

part 1| Previous

tag list: @princeyssash

“Well,” Roman says as the new kid blocked them all out, “he’s going to be a joy to room with, isn’t he?”

Logan sighs. “It seems that we have a troublemaker as a roommate, yes.”

“Now, now, I think he just doesn’t understand how great camp is just yet,” Patton says, speaking for the first time since Virgil ridiculed his favorite place on earth. “Give him some time and he’ll come around.”

“I don’t know,” Roman says doubtfully. “People like him never seem like the type to just ‘come around.’”

“Nevertheless,” Logan says, turning back to his thing to continue unpacking. “We shan’t let Virgil’s negative attitude damper our camp experience. Roman, I understand that this is your third year here, yes?”

“Yep!” Roman says proudly. “Though this is my first time meeting you.”

“Oh you’ll love Lo!” Patton exclaims. “He’s so smart, he knows just about everything.”

“If I knew everything then I would have at least a dozen Nobel Peace Prizes at this point in my life,” Logan says, “as well as a cure for all illnesses. As great as that would be, it is, in fact, false.”

“But you are smart,” Patton says.

“Yes, that is a correct statement.” Logan puts the last of his clothes into his closet and turns to Roman. “I suppose we should get the annoying, frivolous questions out of the way. Why do you enjoy coming to Camp Swan?”

Roman blinked at him, glancing at Patton for help but Patton was just sitting and staring at Roman curiously, like he was wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Well for instance,” Logan says, “I come because the particular forest that the camp is located is home to many species of plants that I would not have a chance to study through the rest of the year. I’ve been studying them every year since my first year and have been documenting their changes as our planet’s climate has changed. The camp provides the necessary resources for studying them as well, which is handy.”

“And I’m here because I love it!” Patton exclaims.

“Yes it seems that Patton enjoys the togetherness that Camp Swan brings,” Logan says with a slightly exasperated sigh. “I can’t say I understand, however I don’t judge him for it.”

“So what about you Roman? What does Camp Swan mean to you?” Patton asks.

“Ah,” Roman says, looking as if he understood better. “I come because it gives me a chance to work on all of my talents. Singing, acting, dancing…well okay I’m still working on the dancing part. Plus their equestrian training is fantastic!”

Logan had to admit that he was slightly impressed that Roman knew the word equestrian, though if anyone would be apt at horseback riding, it looked to be Roman. The other boy looked to be in fair shape, with big biceps that strained against his shirt showing that he worked out. Logan could also see through the tight t-shirt that Roman probably had what was known as a toned stomach as well. It distantly occurred to him to wonder just why Roman insisted on wearing clothing that was just a bit too tight. It did not seem comfortable.

“Look I know I’m handsome but you don’t have to stare,” Roman says.

Logan blinks. Had he been staring? He supposed that he must have, if Roman seemed to have thought so. “My apologies,” Logan says. “I was simply wondering why you would not wear better fitting clothes. We are at a camp after all, wouldn’t you want to be as comfortable as possible?”

Roman stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Frowning, Logan looks at Patton who seemed to be trying to hide a smile. “What? What did I say?”

Roman just kept laughing. He clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Man, Patton said you were smart, he didn’t tell me you were funny too.”

“I was not trying to be,” Logan says, shrugging off Roman’s hand. The other boy didn’t look offended, he just grinned at Logan.

“To me, this is comfortable,” Roman says, showing off his muscles that strained against his clothing. “It’s snug but not too snug, you know?”

Logan sighs and shakes his head. “I do not, but I suppose I will have to take your word for it.”

“Logan likes his facts,” Patton informs Roman. “He likes things to be straightforward.”

“Then I will respect that!” Roman declares, sounding for all the world like a royal. “or try to,” he adds in a calmer voice.

Patton sat on the floor, grabbing one of his nearby plushies and hugging it to his chest. He looks at Virgil, who still had his back to the rest of them, seeming to either not care about the conversation or not hearing it. “Do you think he meant what he said?” Patton wonders aloud. “That his parents hate him?”

“Oh please,” Roman says with a laugh. “Teenagers like him think that world is against them. honestly they’re a pain to deal with.”

Patton frowns. “Well something must make them feel that way.”

“Perhaps,” Logan says, knowing that it was futile to convince Patton of anything less. “However, we cannot force him to tell us anything he does not want to. Nor can we force him to enjoy camp. It will have to be up to him.”

Patton sighs a defeated sigh, but he nods. “You’re right as always Lo.” Patton turns his attention back to the ceiling. “Hey Roman, we haven’t finished the stars!”

“Right,” Roman jumps to his feet, gathering the stars they still had left to stick to the ceiling and walls.

Sighing, Logan turns towards the door. “I’ll get a chair.”

After a few hours, Thomas came back by the room to find Patton, Logan, and Roman all sitting on the ground in the middle of a game of Uno and Virgil lying on his bed, eyes closed and headphones on.

“Hey guys,” Thomas says. He points to Virgil, eyebrows creased. “Why didn’t you invite Virgil to play with you?”

“We did but Dr. Gloom and Doom seems to be too good for us,” Roman says, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Thomas just changes the subject. “O-Okay then. Anyway, the assembly is starting soon so we should all head over.”

The boys all nodded and stopped the game, even though Roman was complaining that he was just about to win (Thomas had seen that he had the most cards out of everyone, but even Roman’s roommates didn’t seem to want to correct him) and the three of them walked past Thomas and into the lounge. Thomas frowns, looking into the room where Virgil was still lying. It didn’t even look like he’d unpacked.

“Aren’t you guys going to get Virgil?” Thomas asks.

“He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with us and to leave him alone,” Logan says matter-of-factly. “We are simply answering his request.”

Thomas frowns disapprovingly at them and looks at Patton. The more kind-hearted boy shifted uncomfortably on his feet, avoiding Thomas’s gaze. It was clear that he felt guilty, but the fact that he wasn’t countering Logan’s statement meant that he agreed.

Thomas sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “Look guys, we’re not going to get anywhere this summer if you exclude your roommate. It’s just going to make things miserable for everyone.”

The boys all slump, but Patton sighs and walks back into the room to retrieve Virgil.

Virgil stood in the back of the crowd, playing with his fidget cube as he watched the head of the camp, Joan they told the campers to call them, talking about all the different activities at the camp and how they would all rotate throughout the summer. Virgil wasn’t really listening. He was too focused on not focusing on how close he was being forced to stand to complete strangers. Thomas stood behind him, his arms crossed like some kind of officer making sure that the prisoners didn’t try to run for it. Virgil had to admit that he thought about it, but where would he go?

He couldn’t see his other roommates anywhere, as they had run off as soon as they’d gotten there, but that was probably for the better. He’d snapped at them enough earlier. Every time Patton tried to get him to play a game with them or talk with them, he’d snap. Every time Roman was being obnoxiously loud—so loud that he penetrated the bliss Virgil’s music provided—he snapped. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to get through the summer with those two. At least Logan seemed to understand when someone wanted to be left alone.

“Alright, I think that about does it!” Joan says. “Now is time to get some grub! Head on to the mess hall.”

The crowd dispersed, and Virgil turned. Thomas was still standing there, looking down at him. “Care to go get something to eat?” he asks.

Virgil rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to lead me around like a lost puppy. I’ll just follow the crowd.”

Thomas gives Virgil a smile he knew all too well. It was a smile that said he was close to losing his patience with Virgil but he had to be nice so he was going to smile through the pain. “Alright, be sure to be back at the cabin by sundown.”

Virgil just nodded and started following the flow of the crowd. Usually finding the source of food was easy, because that’s where everyone always gathered. It was the same for any animal in the animal kingdom, humans no exception.

As he was walking, though, he heard someone behind him laugh just a bit too loud for it to be conspicuous. “Who plays with one of those things unless they’re a fucking child?” someone said.

Virgil glanced over and saw a boy about a foot taller than him with long brown hair that reached his shoulders and a mischievous smirk on his lips. He was looking right at Virgil, or rather at the fidget cube in his hand.

Scowling, Virgil turns away from him, shoving the cube into his pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was to deal with morons. He just wanted to get something to eat and disappear into his cabin as soon as possible.

A hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him. “Hey, faggot,” the boy says, “got any more of those sissy cubes? You know they say not to bring anything unless you want to share with the class.”

“Get out of my face,” Virgil growls.

The boy raises his eyebrows. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said get out of my fucking face,” Virgil says, yanking himself out of the boy’s grip. “and get a life. The only childish one here is you.”

No one around them seemed to notice or care about the exchange, not that Virgil was surprised. No one ever care about losers like himself. The boy reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “No one talks to me that way,” he growls.

“First time for everything then,” Virgil says, not backing down.

The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved Virgil back so hard that he fell on his ass in the damp mud. The boy stood over him, glaring. Before Virgil knew what was happening, the boy’s good connected with Virgil’s ribs.

“That’ll teach you to talk back to me, you emo fag,” the boy says spitting on Virgil’s arm. He walked off, leaving Virgil on the ground.

Rubbing his sore ribs, Virgil picked himself up, the whole situation coming back to him. He felt his limbs shaking, his breathing becoming sparse. He looked around, but he was alone. Everyone else had disappeared in the mess hall. He looked at the now crowded building and shook his head. He couldn’t go in there, not looking like this. It would just make that boy feel even better, and probably make Virgil the butt of a lot of jokes. No he couldn’t go in there. He’d just eat breakfast in the morning. He didn’t need food tonight.

So Virgil turned and forced himself to walk back to his cabin. He needed to be alone. He needed to change. He needed to be free of this fucking camp.

Chapter 4

#sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #Camp Swan fic #my fic #swearing #homophopic slurs #bullying #intentionally not eating #social anxiety #fanfiction

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