#aanglish

“Yes. To be precise, I want twelve.”

Send ♥ if your muse is in love with mine and tell them why.

Korra was restless to say the least. Harmonic Convergence was nearing and something felt — off. She, of course, had been preparing her whole life for this one moment, but now that it was so near, doubts were clouding her thoughts. Selfish — selfish doubts.

           What if giving up Raava kills me? What if I trip and knock myself out and Harmonic Convergence ends before I wake up?                    What if Vaatu fuses with me when Raava is gone? What if the world does need the Avatar after all and the Red Lotus is wrong?

She tried to cover up these doubts from everyone. Zaheer certainly wouldn’t understand what she was feeling, and the others would probably question her loyalty and she really didn’t want that. She was committed to them and their cause, but…

It was getting harder for her to deny these feelings to herself, especially when the dreams began. She knew in her gut that the voice — the omnipresent voice — was Raava. She knew it. She also knew that the man’s voice — the gentle, kind murmur in the back of her mind — was Avatar Aang. She didn’t know why they were contacting her when the world would be so much better off with The Red Lotus’ view.

              Natural Order was the only way.

She escaped into her own small tent for the night, opening the curtain only to see a vision. There had only been voices before, but this was most certainly real.

There, she'd found Aang.

At first it had been awkward.  More than that, even.  She'd thought she was going to die.  But the gentle Avatar had it in his heart to forgive even her.  Even the Mad Princess.  Even the one who had nearly killed him.  He had helped her start to rebuild, her life, and her sanity.

And then she'd kissed him.  After that afternoon, she retreated to her room.  She needed to do some thinking.  Aang was . . . the opposite of everything she'd been taught to value.  But Aang was the first person to treat her like a person instead of a playing piece, an entity, an anything people saw her as, whatever it was it wasn't human.

How would she be able to tell if she actually had feelings for him, or if she was just drunk on the human contact?  How could she know the difference between friendship, attraction, and gratitude when she'd never felt any of those feelings before?

But sitting in her room was just making the noise in her head get louder.  She could still remember the taste of his lips on hers, the feel of their bodies pressed together as she scooted close for those kisses . . . .  She came to her feet, and headed out to go looking for him again.

Me: yes you are

Friend: Where did I go wrong

Me: naruto

Friend: I was young and reckless

Me: believe it.