#I think my house might get buried in snow soon lmao

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

ANYWAYS unrelated thought, uhhh. Uh oh. Forgot. But on the note of Minecraft, it’s going great :] got a new doggo, and made the fence of my rabbit pen higher because foxes kept getting in

also WHAT is the density enchantment?? And when did the raid effect become a potion bottle???

[refinedbuffoonery]

This one screams MacRiley to me: “There’s a storm and omg I’m losing signal are you okay?? Hold on let me drive 489432 miles to get you the night before christmas” 

I got a little carried away with this one lmao.

Mac doesn’t expect his phone to light up with Riley’s name at 11 pm on Christmas Eve. What is she calling him for? She’s supposed to be spending Christmas at a cabin near Lake Tahoe with her mom. 

Frowning, he accepts the FaceTime call. As soon as her face fills the screen, he asks, “Are you okay?” 

A flash of emotion crosses her face, but it vanishes before Mac can figure out what it means. “Yeah, we’re fine. Although, I can’t say the same for the radiator.” She tilts her phone, bringing an ancient radiator into view. “It quit working, and I can’t figure out how to fix it.” 

Mac exhales a sigh of relief. She’s okay. Once the panic recedes, he smiles and offers, “I’ll walk you through it.” 

“Thanks.” Mac barely catches Riley’s sheepish smile before she flips the camera around. 

“Merry Christmas, Mac.” Riley’s mom’s voice echoes in the background. “Who are you celebrating with this year?” 

“Mom,” Riley groans, “I already told you. He and Bozer drove home to spend Christmas with Bozer’s parents.” 

“Oh hush, baby girl,” her mom chastises. “Let the man speak for himself. Is Bozer making his pastrami again this year?” 

Mac chuckles. “Well, it wouldn’t be Christmas without Bozer’s pastrami.” 

“That’s good to hear. Now hurry up and fix the radiator. It’s cold in here!” 

“Yes ma’am,” Mac says. Addressing Riley, he asks, “So, what are we working with?” 

Fixing the radiator is easy enough. Riley sits on the floor, holding the phone between her feet so she has both hands free. Mac leans back against the headboard, content to watch Riley’s manicured fingers work. “The dark green looks nice,” he says, absentmindedly. 

“What?” 

Crap, he didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Your nails,” he rushes to clarify. 

“Oh.” A moment later. “Thanks.” 

Oh god, why did he have to make it awkward? Talking to Riley is never awkward. Now he’s being weird. Why is this so weird? Mac shakes his head, disrupting the spiraling chain of thoughts. 

“How’s Tahoe?” he asks, determined to break the now-awkward silence. 

“Good!” The mood shifts instantly at Riley’s bright tone. “It’s so gorgeous here, Mac. If Matty doesn’t have us off on some real-life version of Die Hard, we should come back at New Year’s.” 

Mac snorts. “With all the tourists there for SnowGlobe? No thanks.” 

“Mac,” she scolds. “Don’t be mean to tourists.” 

“Says the woman who grew up in LA. You hate tourists even more than I do!” 

Her silence only confirms that he’s correct. 

“So,” Mac continues, “your mom said that it’s cold there. Is it snowing?” 

Finished fixing the radiator, Riley flips the camera so it points at her face again. She isn’t wearing any makeup, Mac notices right away. She looks pretty without it. “Yeah,” she says. “There’s going to be a big storm tonight. Donner Pass is supposed to get a couple feet of snow overnight.” 

That’s a lot, Mac thinks. He tells her as much. Riley and her mom are staying near there, in some off the grid area between Sugar Bowl and Donner Lake. She’d sent him the details before she had left, in case of an emergency. 

“Anyway,” Riley says. “I’ll let you get back to the party. Thanks for your help.” 

As much as Mac loves Bozer’s family, he wouldn’t mind talking to Riley all night. He doesn’t know how to tell her that without it being weird, so he just says, “Of course. Anytime, Riles.” 

She hangs up, and Mac realizes he’d trade Bozer’s toasty house for a too-cold cabin in the middle of nowhere in a heartbeat. 

*****

Mac definitely doesn’t expect it when Riley calls him again at 2 am. It’s just a normal call this time, not a FaceTime request. 

The line goes dead as soon as he picks up. 

He tries again. Nothing. 

Again. It goes straight to voicemail. Before he can hang up and try again, his phone rings. Riley’s calling. 

He picks up immediately. 

“Mac—” she starts. 

The line goes dead, again. Shit. 

Mac races to the living room. He turns the TV on to the local news, quickly lowering the volume so he doesn’t wake anyone up. A blonde news anchor stands in front of a map of Lake Tahoe, and Mac reads the headline scrolling across the screen. 

STORM KNOCKS OUT POWER THROUGHOUT TAHOE AREA, OVERNIGHT TEMPS EXPECTED TO DROP WELL BELOW FREEZING. 

Riley. She needs help. Why else would she call in the middle of the night? 

Mac scrambles to find his boots and a coat. Bozer shuffles into view, rubbing his eyes and looking less than thrilled at being awake at this hour. 

“Mac, what are you doing? It’s 2 am dude.” 

“Riley called. I’m going to go get her.” 

“In the middle of the night?” Bozer frowns. “Is she okay?” 

Mac pats his pockets, looking for his keys. “I don’t know. She called a bunch of times but the line kept going dead before she could say anything. They’re getting snow tonight and the power went out. I just need to make sure she’s alright.” 

Bozer clears his throat, and Mac looks up to see his best friend dangling his car keys in front of his face. He mutters his thanks. 

“Tahoe’s more than three hours away man,” Bozer says. “Are you sure she didn’t just butt dial you or something?” 

They both know Riley Davis never butt dials people. Ever. 

Mac sighs. “I’ll just drive myself crazy sitting here and not knowing, so I might as well go.” 

Bozer gives him a knowing look. “Okay. There’s chains in the garage, and you can borrow my dad’s ski jacket.” 

“I have chains in the truck, but I will take the jacket.” Mac starts filling water bottles and collecting snacks while Bozer fetches the coat. Keeping his hands busy doesn’t do much to staunch the worst-case scenarios running through his head. What if she—

No. He couldn’t think like that. 

Bozer returns with the heavy coat and accompanies Mac to his truck. “Be safe, okay?” 

Mac squeezes his best friend’s shoulder. “I’ll be safe.” He jumps in the truck and flies backward out the driveway. 

I’m coming, Riles. 

*****

It’s almost 6 am when Mac pulls up in front of the cabin. An unfamiliar car is parked in front, buried to its bumper in fresh snow. It must be Riley’s mom’s. 

Mac trudges through the snow, suddenly wishing he’d traded his Christmas pajama pants in for snow pants. He kicks away the snow piled in front of the cabin door that’s preventing it from opening all the way. “Riles!” he calls. Mac raps his knuckles against the old wood. “Riley!” He knocks again. 

He’s about to call her name a third time when he hears a faint, “Mac?” 

There’s a scrambling noise on the other side of the door, but then it swings open and Riley’s standing in the doorway, nose pink despite being bundled up like she’s planning on spending the night outside. Considering how cold it must be in the cabin, she might as well be. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks. 

“You called.” 

Bewilderment contorts Riley’s face. “I—” she trails off. “You drove all the way out here just because my call didn’t go through?” 

Now Mac feels awkward. And kind of stupid. “Uhh, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. 

There it is again, that emotion he can’t place. “Wow,” she says, and not in a sarcastic way. She shakes her head, stepping aside to let him in. “God, come in. You’re probably cold.” 

Mac follows her inside, muttering, “Like it’s any warmer in here.” 

Never letting Riley out of his peripheral vision, Mac scans the small cabin. It’s cute, with well-loved furniture and lake themed decorations. The blazing fire casts an orange glow over the room. Mac’s eyes land on Riley’s mom, curled on the couch underneath a mountain of blankets with a fluffy, white dog butt covering her lap. The dog’s head rests beside the free end of the blankets—presumably where Riley had been sleeping. 

“When did your mom get a Husky?” he asks in a low voice. 

Riley shoots him a “get a load of this” look. “She didn’t. That’s what I called you about. I brought in a new load of firewood around one, and I heard her barking. There’s a pond maybe twenty yards that way—” Riley points— “and she’d fallen in.” 

Riley rubs her hands together. Without thinking, Mac gently grabs her icy hands and holds them between his warm ones. Both their gazes suddenly snap to their joined hands, but neither comments. 

Riley continued her story. “We got her out okay, but I was afraid she’d end up with hypothermia. I called you because I didn’t know what to do.” 

Oh. “So what did you do?” 

“We managed to dry her with a hair dryer and let her drink warm water before the power went out, but since then we’ve just piled on the couch.” Riley shivers. “I think she’s okay now.” 

“Are you okay?” Riley’s tough, but she’s not immune from scary situations. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s false bravado, but Mac doesn’t call her on it. 

Instead, he jerks his chin toward the couch. “Is there room for one more?” 

Riley visibly relaxes. “I don’t know,” she drawls, “the dog’s quite a bed hog.” Mac laughs. 

There’s definitely not room for four on the couch, but they make it work. Riley moves a few cushions onto the floor to give them more space. Mac waits for her to squeeze between the dog and the back of the couch before taking the remaining space between the dog and the edge. He doesn’t fit. 

He hisses, “Can you move over any more? My butt’s hanging off the edge.” The dog lifts her head and licks his face in a mocking “no.” 

Riley scoots back, but there’s barely a difference. “Sorry. That’s all you get.” 

Mac sighs. “Well, then the dog’s getting squished.” He reaches across the mass of white fluff to wrap an arm around Riley’s back and pull himself further onto the couch, pinning the dog between their stomachs in the process. 

He doesn’t need to keep holding her—hell, he probably shouldn’t keep holding her—but Mac doesn’t let go. Instead, he keeps watch over his girls as they fall asleep, first the dog, then Riley. And when their soft breathing is the only sound in the eerie stillness of a snowy morning, Mac lets himself drift off as well.

[sukifans]

PET • RI • CHOR

[n] a pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

ZUKO X OC SERIES

SUMMARY: a captured waterbender and the fire prince may sound like an unlikely pair, but kena never much cared about others’ expectations and zuko, well… he was just along for the ride

A/N: we have read more cuts, bitches. also iroh is the ultimate wingman lmao. enjoy this pt it is very soft and fun ~

⏎ MASTERLIST // PART I « PART II » PART III

Zuko found himself walking down the seemingly endless corridors of the Fire Nation palace. He caught sight of his reflection in a window pane and stopped to look. He quickly reached up to touch his face when he realized he no longer had his scar. The skin that was usually rough and dry and cracked was now as smooth as the rest of his cheek. His hair was longer, pulled half-up in a top knot that held the Fire Lord’s hairpiece. He moved his fingers away from his face to touch the golden flame but stopped when he heard a voice.

“Hey, over here!” the voice called. He turned and saw the familiar girl from the tea house standing at the other end of the corridor. She giggled before running off, rounding a corner.

“Wait!” he shouted, chasing after her. He was only barely keeping up, just catching glimpses of her long braid or her clothes whipping around a corner before she disappeared again. He stopped when he saw her standing still in front of a doorway, smiling. “Who are you?”

Her face immediately fell and her eyes filled with tears. Guilt squeezed his chest, making it hard to breathe. “You mean, you don’t remember me, Zuko?”

“I- I’m sorry. You’re so familiar, I just can’t place you-“ he stammered.

“You forgot me!” she roared, face contorting with anger now. He took a step back, frightened by her distorted features. “You killed me, and now you forgot me! How could you?”

“I d-didn’t kill anyone,” he whispered. The girl opened her mouth wider than should’ve been possible and let out an inhuman wail, running into the dark room beyond the doorway. Against his better judgement, he followed.

Zuko’s heart raced when he looked around and found himself in the Agni Kai room he’d been burned in. Three figures stood in the middle of the room with their backs to him, one on their knees between the other two. Cautiously, he approached. He felt sick to his stomach when he saw his father and Azula were the two standing figures. On her knees was the waterbending girl from the infirmary he’d known as a child. Ozai was holding her by her hair as silent tears rolled down her cheeks, forcing her to hold her head up.

“Let her go,” Zuko demanded. Ozai and Azula both laughed.

“Or what, Zuzu? You can’t fight both of us and protect the snow savage,” Azula purred. She crouched down and grabbed Kena’s face roughly, her sharp nails digging into her skin. Kena whimpered helplessly and Zuko felt like he’d been hollowed out. The poor girl’s whole body was trembling with fear.

“Zuko, help me. Please,” she whispered desperately. He tried to move to reach her but his feet were rooted to the spot. Ozai yanked her hair and Kena swallowed a yelp.

“Look, little girl. He’s not going to save you. In fact, he gave you to me.” He forced her head back up to make her look Zuko in the eye.

“I didn’t! Kena, please-“

“Beg, savage, and maybe he’ll help you,” Ozai snarled, throwing her onto her face at Zuko’s feet. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t move. He felt like he might fall apart when he and Kena made eye contact just as she started sobbing openly and loudly.

“Zuko, please! Don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt me again!”

“I- I would never-“ he started but was cut off by Kena’s desperate cries as she dropped her head again. “I’m trying but I can’t move.”

She tilted her head up and suddenly she was older — the girl from the tea shop again. With a rush he realized he could move again and immediately dove down to scoop her up. As soon as he touched her, she screamed like she’d been burned and scrambled away from him, looking terrified. Ozai laughed again and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up off the ground so her feet barely skimmed the floor. She desperately clawed at his arm but Ozai was entirely unbothered. She was struggling to breathe, chest heaving while she choked and sputtered.

“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher,” his father said and Zuko’s blood turned to ice in his veins.

Azula approached Kena with her hand engulfed in blue flame. The waterbender thrashed and fought but couldn’t get free, not before Azula brought her hand to her face-

“Kena!” Zuko sat bolt upright in his bed, drenched in sweat and his heart racing. His blanket was tangled and twisted around his legs and his pillow was somehow across the room. When he realized what he’d seen had just been a nightmare, he started trying to calm himself down with deep, uneven breaths, holding his head in his shaking hands.

Kena. She was here. She spoke with him. Hell, he had a date with her in less than twenty four hours. Sana had told him that she and her mother had escaped from the palace before being executed, but he had never been sure whether or not she was lying to spare his feelings. To see her here, alive and seemingly happy... he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to speak to her again without blowing his cover. She didn’t seem to recognize him, what with the scar and all the time that has passed. He didn’t know if he preferred that over her knowing it was him or not.

Sighing, Zuko slipped out of bed and started to dress himself. He needed to get out for a bit and take a walk, maybe pick a fight, to clear his head. He slung his swords in their sheath over his shoulder and tied the ribbon of his mask around his head before creeping out of the apartment, careful not to wake Iroh. He wandered down the empty streets, sticking to the shadows cast by the shoddy buildings of the Lower Ring in the moonlight and slipped into small alleyways to avoid running into any late-night stragglers.

His breath caught in his throat when he turned into an alley see someone else at the other end. There stood a woman in a flowing white dress with a large black bag across her body. Most peculiarly, she also wore a mask — a black base painted with white detail to depict a smiling koi face. She cocked her head curiously as they studied each other silently. He briefly considered pulling out his swords, believing he’d found his fight, but changed his mind when he realized she didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons. If she had, surely she would’ve drawn it by now.

Slowly, she nodded to him in acknowledgement before turning and disappearing around the corner. He hurried to follow but she was nowhere to be seen when he poked his head out of the alley. Maybe she really was a spirit of some sort. Ba Sing Se was certainly weird enough for it.

Kena woke up late in the morning, sunshine streaming in through her small window and directly across her closed eyelids. She sighed and turned over, burying her face into the pillow to maybe sneak a few more minutes. That, is until whoever was at the door started banging on it again like they had been when they’d woken her. She continued to lay there, listening for Fera. They knocked again. Clearly Fera wouldn’t be answering this morning. She had probably already left for her job as a maid for a wealthy family in the Upper Ring. Groaning, she pushed herself to her feet and wrapped her robe around her body.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Spirits, just stop banging on the door before you break the damn thing!” She yanked the door open only to immediately be trampled by four raucous girls rushing into the apartment.

“Morning, sunshine!”

“Are you okay? You just left us yesterday!”

“Yeah, you looked like you’d run into a spirit or something!”

“Did he reject you for some reason? Do we need to go knock him around for a bit until he finds his sense?”

“Because we totally will.”

“Yeah, we can take that skinny kid, easy.”

Kena laughed at her friends. “Guys, it’s fine. Last night I just remembered that Fera had asked me to pick something up for dinner from the market and I’d totally forgotten so I had to hurry. Sorry I didn’t say anything, you know my one-track mind.” She went to the kitchen to put on some tea while the rest all settled down in the living room.

“But you did ask him out, right?” Jin pressed and Kena rolled her eyes, cheeks heating up.

“Yes. You guys shoved me back in there.”

The girls looked at her expectantly. “And? What did he say?” Mona gestured for her to continue, raising her eyebrows.

“He said yes,” she answered quietly and her friends immediately started hooting and hollering. “Shut up! The neighbors are gonna make a noise complaint again!”

“Aren’t you excited, Sola?” Kyali sighed dreamily, clasping her hands. “I don’t think you’ve been on a date in the entire time we’ve known you and now you’re going out with this hot, brooding, mysterious guy.”

“I bet he writes poetry,” said Oma. “Maybe he’ll write something about you!”

“You guys are insane,” Kena laughed, shaking her head. “All of you need to stop reading those garbage romance books.”

“Look, we all already know you’re Miss Independent and you don’t need a man or whatever. You can be excited about your date tonight,” Jin said pointedly. Kena rolled her eyes as she carried over the pot of tea and five cups.

“Fine, okay; I’m a little excited,” she said, pouring everyone a cup before sitting on the mat next to Mona. She was more than a little excited, but for different reasons than her friends thought. She was also incredibly nervous, unsure of whether or not to confront her childhood best friend.

Mona took a sip and smirked. “Is this jasmine?” Kena shook her head exasperatedly, hiding a smile, as her friends all laughed.

Zuko sat on the floor in front of his uncle, who by all appearances was attacking him with a small comb. He winced when the teeth pulled through another knot, grumbling.

“Nephew, when was the last time you combed your hair?” Iroh tsked as he gave another mighty pull.

“I’ve had bigger things to worry about recently, in case you forgot,” Zuko responded. Iroh sighed dramatically.

“Often, we only feel inside as good as we look outside,” he said. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“This seems like a little much.”

“It’s your first date with this girl! You need to make a good first impression.”

“I’ve already made a first impression. She knocked me over and cut her hand open.”

“And that was very kind of you to help her!”

“You kind of gave me no choice.”

“I could tell you liked her, I was just pushing you in the right direction,” Iroh said smugly and Zuko grimaced. “But you’re still working on your first impression. A first impression only ends when the relationship does.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Uncle.” Zuko made a strangled noise of protest as Iroh started slicking his hair down with some sort of slimy paste.

“I used to be very popular with the ladies in my prime. I can give you some tips, if you’d like.”

“I would not,” Zuko interjected quickly but his uncle steamrolled ahead anyways.

“First, you should compliment her as soon as you see her. Tell her she is more radiant than the first fire lily of spring.”

“Talking about fire lilies seems like a bad move,” Zuko said. His cheeks tinged pink, however, remembering the fire lily he gave her that night in the palace — the last time he’d ever seen her until the day before.

“Perhaps you’re right, Nephew,” Iroh mused, looking thoughtful. “Instead, tell her that her eyes are more captivating than a moon flower during a lunar eclipse. Or, perhaps that her presence is as warm and comforting as a fresh cup of tea on a winter night! Remember, this could be your future wife!”

“That’s enough, thank you.” Zuko stood quickly, having heard enough to be sufficiently embarrassed. “You’re going to make me late if you keep messing with my hair.”

“I suppose that will be as good as it’s going to get, then. Do a turn so I can see you properly.”

“Uncle, honestly-“

“Turn, Prince Zuko.” Exasperated, Zuko turned in a quick circle, shoulders tense as Iroh scrutinized him. “You look very handsome! But you would look much better if you smiled.” Iroh beamed as if to demonstrate and Zuko gave him a sour look. “I said ‘smile,’ not ‘scowl.’ Don’t do that in front of her.”

“I’m leaving now,” Zuko said flatly, walking towards the door.

“Be nice! Pay for dinner! Don’t frown! Stay out as late as you want, I won’t wait up,” Iroh called after him as he hurried out.

Kena felt her heart start racing when she caught sight of him outside the Pao Family Tea House, hair combed and flattened into a middle part that she had to swallow a laugh about — surely Iroh’s work.

“Hey, Lee,” she said as she approached. “You look so cute.” She laughed and she ruffled his hair. He gave her a pained look and caught her wrist in his hand.

“It took my uncle ten minutes to do my hair.”

“That’s sweet,” she said with a soft smile, surprising him as she laced their fingers together. He willed himself not to go red in the face. “Come on, the festival’s already begun!”

She dragged him through the streets, talking excitedly about the food she wanted him to try and a few performers that would be on the stage in the middle of the Lower Ring later. He didn’t say much, just enjoyed her presence and the fact that she was alive and here and somehow with him. Any chance he got he stared at her, analyzing every detail of her face and comparing it to what he could remember from childhood. She still had the same medium-brown skin, dark hair, and grey eyes of course, but it all felt new and exciting again; her hair was longer and flowed freely down her back and her eyes, though still kind and sparkling, held something deeper that had not been there before. He also noticed a long, thin white scar that trailed down the left side of her face from her forehead, through her eyebrow, and down to the corner of her jaw. The thought of someone hurting her made him angrier than he’d anticipated, but he tried not to focus on it. Instead he fixated on how she was almost always smiling or laughing, how casually and comfortably she touched him when she held his hand or grabbed his arm when he made her laugh or brushed her fingers against his forehead when she put a goofy hat she’d won in a game on top of his head. It had been a long time since he’d let himself just be around someone, and it felt incredible. She was still, despite everything, so unabashedly Kena that it made his heart squeeze in his chest. He didn’t know how he hadn’t recognized her as soon as he laid eyes on her, because it seemed overwhelmingly obvious now.

Kena, meanwhile, was trying her hardest to get him to slip up. Something had happened between that night and the day before, because she saw immediately from the way he looked at her that he knew. She figured it was only a matter of time before he misstepped somewhere.

“Lee is an interesting name,” she’d mentioned casually as they watched two contortionists on stage twist themselves into impossible positions.

“I really have to beg to differ on that one,” he’d said in response.

“It’s just a very common name in the Fire Nation, you know? Before I came to Ba Sing Se, there were at least a dozen people named Lee in even the smallest villages. But oddly enough, I’ve never met anyone named Lee here except for you.”

He’d simply shrugged and said, “my village was colonized by the Fire Nation decades ago. I guess the name bled into the local culture.” She’d hummed noncommittally at that and went back to square one with a new plan.

“So, you mentioned you and your uncle traveled around a lot,” she’d started. “Why?”

He hesitated just a beat too long. “We were... uh, part of this traveling circus.” She couldn’t believe he didn’t have a better lie ready.

“Really? What did you do? Actually, let me guess.” She tapped her chin for dramatic effect as she considered something Zuko would likely be awful at. Her face split into a wicked grin. “You juggled!”

He looked at her, slightly annoyed. “Yeah, you got me. I juggled.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to juggle. Can you show me something?” She handed him a couple small fruits from a cart they were standing near, looking up at him expectantly. He looked ashen as he slowly took them from her. Awkwardly, he threw them up in the air and they flew in wildly different directions, one landing directly on his head.

“I haven’t practiced for a while.” He cleared his throat, a deep red creeping across his cheeks as she laughed.

“Ah, I understand.”

When they stopped for food at a noodle cart, she’d mentioned they offered supposedly authentic Fire Nation fire flakes. He’d nodded in acknowledgement and then ordered the blandest thing on the menu. The prince was certainly going to give her a run for her money.

Zuko didn’t understand why she kept bringing up the Fire Nation throughout the night. Did she know? He didn’t think she did. She hadn’t at the tea shop, why would she now? Did he do something to tip her off? She’d been in Ba Sing Se for many years; she most likely had heard nothing about his banishment or his hunt for the Avatar and had yet to bring up anything about his scar. He hoped that she didn’t think he was here to hurt people — surely she wouldn’t have asked him on a date if she thought that, right?

Night had long since fallen, but the streets were still bursting with light and life from the festival. He had a small grin on his face while he watched Kena start an argument with a man running some rigged betting game. She accused him of cheating and he shouted at her to leave immediately or he’d call in the Dai Li. Grumbling, Kena grabbed his hand again and stalked away. He was still smiling as she pulled him along and she sent him a (mostly) playful glare.

“What are you grinning at? I just lost ten silver pieces!” she huffed.

“You,” he responded without thinking. Realizing what he said, he quickly shut his mouth. They both flush and looked away from each other.

She took in a deep breath to regain her composure before turning her head to look at him again. “Do you want to see something cool?” There was no way he would’ve been able to refuse that excited look in her eye, even if he’d wanted to.

Zuko followed as she lead him into an alley and started climbing up a fire escape. He watched as she nimbly maneuvered herself higher and higher. “Are you sure this is... legal?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s not,” she called down to him, peeking her head over the railing, “but it’s alright! We’re crafty. Now hurry up or we’ll miss it!”

“If you say so...” he trailed off as he gripped the side of the ladder and started making his way up. When he reached the top, he found her sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the flat roof and staring at the city skyline, holding her chin in her hands. He sat down next to her and took the opportunity of the quiet moment to examine her profile illuminated by the festival lights below. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. At first he tensed but then he slowly relaxed, slowly wrapping his arm around around her waist. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, taking in the view. Well, she was taking in the view; Zuko was trying to ignore the goosebumps running across his skin from her warm breath dancing across his neck.

“Lee,” she started quietly, “I know we just met yesterday, but I think I really like you.”

“I really like you, too,” he agreed, surprising himself a little. He rested his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes. She still smelled the same — something fresh and pleasant and clean that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Kena was tired of dancing around what they both knew. Throwing caution to the wind, she cleared her throat and spoke. “You know, I used to be a servant for the royal family in the Fire Nation.”

He cursed himself for the way his whole body flinched. “Yeah? How was that?”

“Terrible. I was taken from my home when I was young and kept there for years. It was just my mom and I.”

“No friends?”

“They don’t exactly let the help just make friends all willy-nilly. That’s a good foundation for a staff revolt.” She rolled her eyes. “I did have one friend I managed to make though.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, except he was the prince.”

She heard his breath hitch. “Oh. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. That’s why we had to leave, actually. Ozai found out and was not happy his firebender son was making nice with someone like me. Apparently he wanted to execute us to make some sort of point, but Ursa and the other servants helped us sneak out of the palace before we were taken to be killed.”

“I’ve heard a lot of good about Ursa,” he said softly, tenderness in his voice.

“She was a wonderful woman. There was a lot of her in the prince, too. I guess that’s why I liked them so much.” He said nothing, so she continued. “It broke my heart to leave. I never even got to say goodbye even though I pinky-promised to see him again the night before Ozai found out.” She thought for a moment. “I always wondered if he ever thought of me, because I thought of him all the time.”

“I- he did. Probably. I don’t know,” he huffed. “I mean that I think, if it were me, I would’ve thought about you every day.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet for a long time before Kena finally spoke, smiling faintly. “You and your uncle stick out like two sore thumbs here.”

His shoulder shook under her cheek when he chuckled. “I know. I think it started out as a joke, and then we actually couldn’t think of anything better.”

She sat up straight now and cupped his face in her hands. Gently, she brushed her thumb over the rough, gnarled skin on his cheek. She wasn’t sure why, but a few slow tears rolled down her cheeks. “We match,” she said softly, meeting his eyes when he used his fingertip to trace the scar that ran down her face.

“It looks much better on you,” he joked and she gave him a watery smile. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Suddenly, she lunged at him to squeeze him in a tight hug, knocking them both backwards into a pile. “It’ll take a lot more than your awful father to kill me,” she murmured into his chest from her position on top of him. Hesitant at first, he wrapped his arms around her. It just felt so right to be with her again. He couldn’t help tightening his grip and burying his face into her cascade of hair. In the background he could hear fireworks going off, but he didn’t care about anything that wasn’t her.

“I missed you, Kena,” he said, so quietly the wind almost carried the words away. His lungs ached because her name on his lips felt like a long, full breath of fresh air after years underwater.

“I missed you too, Zuko.” Her cool skin against his warmth felt like a wave of water over the flames inside of him. He finally, for the first time he could remember since losing his mother, felt safe. He clutched at her clothes to pull her in as close as possible, breathing her in deeply. She smelled like the first monsoon after a lifelong dry season; she smelled like petrichor.

A/N:

TAGS: @beifongsss @the-lva-way @lammello @llorom6nnic @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @royahllty @mamooska8 @bucky-blogs @youneedmemanidonotneedyou @eridanuswave @rosetheshapeshifter @fantasticchaoticwho @bwndito @dancerslovelife @justab-eautifulmess

[inkstainedfanfics]

Death Spirals and Triple Axels

Request: Can you do a Newt/Reader where he learns that reader is a high level figure skater? Like triple jumps and camel/biellmann spins and whatnot? (I'm a figure skater lmao)

Word Count: 1,319

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in

Newt presses a kiss against your forehead as he adjusts your scarf. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in and fix some hot drinks?”

You hoist the bag lying at your feet onto your shoulder. “I’m sure.”

Newt eyes the bag. “May I ask what’s in there?”

“Nothing.” You trill as you open your front door and step into the snow piled on your front step.

“Then why are we bringing it with us to … where are we going?” Newt steps out behind you, reaching for the bag.

“It’s a surprise.” You let him slide it off your shoulder and carry it for you.

He grunts in surprise at the weight. “Are we burying a dead body?”

“I will be if you look inside that bag before I tell you to.”

The untouched snow around your house begs to be jumped in and formed into a snowman, but that can wait. You’ve been waiting all winter for this moment, perfecting your routine, dancing through it in the kitchen as Newt asked question after question that you ignored. You had felt ready last week, even managed to sneak out on Monday to practice it, but freezing weather filled the rest of the days, forcing you and Newt to spend every day inside.

You’ve waited for so long, you’re not going to give up the surprise until it’s time.

“What if I said please?” He slides the bag onto his shoulder and takes your gloved hand.

“It’d be sweet but it’d still be a no.”

“Do I even get a hint?”

You consider one for a moment. “You might have tried this at Hogwarts.”

Newt’s face scrunches as he thinks. “Making a love potion?”

You bark out a laugh. “No, not even close.”

He smiles at you. “Good, because I already love you. You don’t need a potion for that.”

You roll your eyes in fake annoyance. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

“Are we taming some wild beast? A yeti, perhaps?”

“Yeah, we’re chasing a yeti here in Britain with just that small bag of bait.”

“You should have warned me. I would have brought my helmet.”

“Your thick skull should be enough.”

As Newt replies to your comment, you begin to fidget with the hem of your coat. The park’s sign looms just a block ahead. If it isn’t empty, you’re not sure you can perform your routine. The space is limited enough. You planned every single move, where every single foot will have to land to best avoid injuries. If there’s even one kid out there, you’ll have to wait, and you’ve spent so much time on it.

“Love?” Newt interrupts your train of thought, all humor in his eyes replaced with worry. “Is something wrong?”

He’s already scanning the area for any dangers.

You shake his arm lightly to regain his attention. “Nothing’s wrong, babe. I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.”

“What about?”

“You’ll see.” You take a deep breath, focusing on how the frigid air burns your throat to help calm your nerves. You’ve been doing this for years. You can do it now.

You drop Newt’s hand and rush past the snow-covered playground and around the warming hut, and there it is: the ice rink.

It’s empty, just as you’d hoped. Perfect.

Newt stomps through the snow and to your side. He freezes at the sight of the iced pond.

“Please tell me we’re going farther than this.”

You shake your head, releasing a long breath. “This is it.”

“So, we’re ice skating?”

“Exactly.” You nudge him with your elbow. “You aren’t scared, are you?”

Newt rubs the back of his neck. “I’m just rather tall, and the ice is rather hard.”

An involuntary giggle breaks through your lips. “You’re telling me that you’ve faced fire-breathing dragons before without any hesitation, but you’re scared of ice?”

“Fire-breathing dragons don’t break your bones.”

“No, they just melt them.”

Newt ignores that comment, slipping the bag off his shoulder and letting it drop into the snow. “I think I can guess what’s in here now.” He grimaces at it.

You bend down and unzip it, pulling out two pairs of skates. “I dug yours out of the back of the closet.” You shove them into his chest. “I didn’t realize you even owned a pair until I came across them.”

“I tried ice skating once. It didn’t go well.”

You sit in the snow, lace up your skates, and raise an eyebrow at Newt. “Did you break your arm or something?”

“My wrist, actually.”

“Ouch.”

“I vowed to never skate again that day.”

“What if you have a really good teacher?”

Newt grins. “I’d think my teacher would have to prove that kind of claim.”

“Will do.” You scoot over to the edge of the pond before taking off your green blade guards. You wink at him once and push yourself onto your feet. It takes a few practice loops around the rink to get used to the feeling again and establish your balance.

Newt calls out something about that being “just good.”

A wicked grin crosses your face as you pick up speed and send yourself into a simple bunny hop. Just something small to start.

You hum your favorite song as you circle the rink again, loosening up, relaxing.

You turn, skating backwards as you prepare for a double axel.

The world around you fades as you throw yourself into the move. It remains gone once you land—without even a wobble—and the music in your head takes over.

You don’t bother thinking about the camel spin you fall into next. The routine is muscle memory. All those months of dancing through it, thinking about it, even dreaming about it allow you to let go of any thoughts.

You don’t know stress or anger or grief. All you know, in this moment, as you lift your foot over your head during your transition to a Biellmann spin, is a joy as pure as the snow starting to drift from the sky.

You end the spin, skate forward, and fall into a spread eagle. You barely even notice Newt’s clap when you perform a Tano jump soon after picking up speed again.

The performance continues as the music swells, pulsing and slowing and drawing you forward into every jump, every spin, every dance move you complete. You lose track of time, only knowing your routine should be ending by the final wave of the music.

You pick up speed, take a deep breath, and leap into a triple axel, immediately jumping into a double toe loop and sliding into a lunge, arms stretched out at the imaginary audience in front of you, chest heaving in breaths, and stopping in front of Newt’s shocked face.

The vision takes a moment to fade. You still hear the crowd roaring as you stand and skate to the edge of the rink.

“Was that good enough for you?”

Newt’s wide eyes are enough of an answer, but he gives you one anyway. “You never mentioned you could do that.”

You gulp in air between every few words. “I can do a lot of things. Including teach you.”

Through the fear, you detect a slight glimmer of admiration in his eyes. “I’m a hopeless case when it comes to this. That’s what I was told last time I tried.”

“No one’s a hopeless case.” Though you wonder if you’ll regret saying that as he stumbles forward and nearly trips right onto the ice.

“I hope you aren’t lying to me.”

“Never.” You shrug your shoulders as Newt slides onto the ice. “Who knows, maybe if you learn well, we could try a death spin?”

His cheeks pale under his freckles. “I try to shy away from anything with the word death in it.”

You laugh and take his hand, pulling him farther onto the ice and into your arms.