#why don’t you have a cup of calming jasmine tea and maybe then you’ll calm down

[thatssroughbuddy]

he is trying his best

[latenight-ramen]

Why don’t you have a cup of jasmine tea and maybe you’ll calm down

[athina-blaine]

MoMM Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #2)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #1)

Martin lurched upright, sucking painful gasps through his aching teeth,  his sleep shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. No light permeated the  windows— he may as well have been in a tomb, for all that he could see.  

Jon was out there somewhere. Alone. As was his mother.

I’m coming back to you. I’ll find a way out of here. I’m doing everything I can–

Liar.

Martin curled up onto his side, wrapping trembling arms around himself. Even though there was no one else to hear him, no one to stifle himself for, he drove his teeth into his lip until his mouth filled with the dull taste of copper.

A knock startled Martin from his troubled doze. A lone ray of light had managed to break through the storm, cutting through the lingering shadows of his room. The winds shrieked. The snow roiled and bellowed and pounded the windows. The white wall stood firm.

Nothing had changed. Martin curled in on himself, fighting the urge to tug at the wisps of his hair as his heart thundered against his ribs.

We share tea every morning and dinner every night. He’s back. We’re talking. I’m not lonely. I am not lonely.

So why had nothing changed? What was he doing wrong?

“Martin?”

Martin jumped. Jon’s face was peeking out from behind the door, and when their eyes met, he held up two cups of tea.

Martin had overslept.

“Shit,” he breathed, moving to scramble out of bed. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Remain where you are, please.”

Head buzzing with exhaustion and grief, Martin settled back down. No point pitching a fit now when he’d probably just tip over. Jon would probably just push him back down again.

“You seem unwell,” Jon said as he sat at Martin’s feet, handing him his cup. Martin’s reflection stared up at him from the hot, dark liquid, blurred and unfathomable. 

“I look that bad, then?”

“You look as if you slept poorly, yes. Maybe a change of pillows is in order?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just ... one of those nights, I guess.” He sipped at his tea, desperate to leech any glimmer of warmth and comfort offered to him. And yet, the jasmine tasted acrid in his mouth.

Why are you lounging about like this, sucking on tea? a voice whispered. You should be figuring out a way out of here. There must be a way, and you need to find it.

“So,” Martin said. “Still no change in this storm, then, huh?”

“… That would appear to be the case, yes.”

“Yeah. I just, it seemed like …” Martin swirled the tea until the liquid nearly sloshed over the rim. “I mean, now that we’re talking again and everything, I assumed things would … get better?”

Cup half raised to his lips, Jon paused, his eyes unreadable. “You … assumed if we resumed communication, the storm would clear?”

Well, when Jon said it like that, the whole thing sounded silly. Martin’s cheeks heated. “I mean, this is all because of that one, isn’t it?” His hands tightened on the cup. “The Lonely? That’s what’s causing this, right?”

“I don’t remember insinuating as much.”

“What else could it be, though?”

Jon’s thumb traced the handle of his cup, silent, and Martin took that as his answer.

“So, we’re talking again, yeah? So shouldn’t it just … go?”

“I couldn’t tell you how the entities choose to manifest themselves,” Jon said, a new, hard edge threading his words. “To act like I could would be deceitful. I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think your plan will come to fruition.”

Martin’s chest panged at his tone. Plan? It hadn’t been a plan; that made it sound like Martin was … using Jon in some way. Martin had merely thought it was a bygone conclusion. And why wouldn’t it be? Want to get rid of an entity of loneliness keeping you trapped somewhere? Spend more time chatting up your beautiful host! Why wouldn’t that sort of logic work?

But of course it hadn’t been that simple. He was a fool for thinking it could be.

He just wanted Jon to give him an answer. To tell him to have hope, to tell him it was okay to have hope, despite everything terrible about their situation. He just wanted him to understand, and Martin was running out of time.

“Today’s the day,” Martin said, desperation thick on his tongue. “When I’d send my letter back to my Mum. I meant to tell you that before, but I … I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to jinx it or something.”

Jon pressed his lips together, and his eyes were so sad and pitying that Martin wanted to be sick. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have done something before now. Made a plan or …” Martin’s eyes returned to the safe murkiness of his tea. “But instead I’ve just been sitting around here and …” -drinking tea, reading useless books, making moon eyes at- “Do you think anyone would have told her by now? That I’m gone?”

“I-”

“No, God, why would you know a thing like that? Sorry, I just …” Martin sucked in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. “I can’t decide which is worse; if someone’s told her already, or if she’'ll just be stuck wondering what happened to me.”

Christ, stop. This whining was only making Jon shift uncomfortably in his seat. But the image of his mother, alone in a too-small cottage she hated, that was too drafty and smelled like damp, waiting for his letter to arrive in the post- waiting, and waiting, and waiting-

“I should have been doing more. What was I even thinking? I thought things would just work out and I’ve just been sitting here-”

“You can hardly be expected to know-”

“I could have tried in the first place,” Martin said, aware his voice was creeping in volume and helpless to stop it.

And then, it hit him. 

“What if I tried just ... leaving?"

“… I beg your pardon?”

A burst of impassioned energy welled up in his chest, chasing away the chilling emptiness. “What if I tried just leaving? Muscling my way through the storm?”

Confused laughter escaped Jon’s lips, trailing away under the hard weight of Martin’s stare. A crease diveted Jon’s eyebrows. “Martin, t-that ... That would be absurd-”

But Martin wasn’t listening, adrenaline sweeping through his limbs until he thought he could run. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? That was a plan. “I could do it. The storm doesn’t have to be gone and so long as I’m dressed for it- If I leave now, I could make it to the post office before-”

“Are you hearing to yourself right now?” The ferocity of Jon’s tone snapped Martin out of his racing thoughts. “The only thing you’ll accomplish is getting lost. You don’t know the way, and you’ll freeze before you get anywhere useful. Martin, please, I understand your situation is-”

“You don’t.”

The sharp words lingered heavy. Jon pulled away, eyes wide, but Martin didn’t retract, or let himself feel guilty about his sudden volume. Jon needed to know; he needed to understand this was important. Important enough to try anything.

Taking a deep breath, a touch of steel hardened Jon’s jaw once more. “Then what of Phillipa, hm? Have you even considered her well being in this grand plan of yours? You’d force her through this blizzard carrying you on her back?”

Martin’s stomach sank, guilt twisting in such fierce knots that his anger was strangled in its own crib. No. No, he hadn’t considered Phillipa in this slapdash plan of his. She’d never make it through the storm, no matter how careful Martin was.

But without her, Martin didn’t stand a chance.

This is what happens, the voice said, louder now, when you get complacent.

Something brushed his arm. Martin flinched, but Jon’s expression remained steady and calm; it almost made Martin angrier, the sore, wounded cavity in his chest desperate to snap and argue until they were gasping for breath. So long as they argued, Martin still had a chance to be right- there was a way out of here they just weren’t seeing, and they could figure it out together if they just kept-

“It’s not your fault,” Jon said, and the shame that swept over Martin nearly choked him. He drained the last of his cup, trying to collect himself. The tea had gone cold.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said. Jon stretched out his hand for Martin’s cup, their fingers brushing, and Martin had to beat back a shiver. “I … I think I'm going to lie down for a little while. If that’s okay. Probably won’t be up for cleaning out the study later.”

“Martin, please, I’d hardly expect you to clean. Take your time.”

There was no judgment in his tone, no sneer to his lips, even with how brusque his words were. Of course Jon would understand. He’d understand how Martin was feeling better than anyone. Trapped. Helpless. 

And Martin had gone and yelled at him for it.

Curling up under the sheets, Martin let the shrieking wind carry him back to a troubled sleep.

[damianwaynerocks]

Zuko & The Waynes

tag list: @bi-fr0000g​

batfam x avatar crossover

PT 1

Description: Prince Zuko has just seen a light; the Avatar has returned. He was just about to go capture him, when he falls through a portal, and lands in Gotham City. He’s angry. He was just about to regain his honor, to regain his father’s love. After he is adopted by Bruce Wayne and becomes Zuko Wayne, the second youngest child, Zuko starts to have second thoughts about regaining his honor. Living as Zuko Wayne makes him think that maybe, just maybe, he’s deserving of love just the way he is. 

This started out as an incorrect quote, but then I loved the idea of Zuko having his Book 3 realization through becoming a member of the bat family, so I did. Also, there will 110% be a part 2.

this takes place in episode 1. like the beginning. he hasn’t even seen aang yet.

-

Fire Navy Ship, Near the South Pole, Earth 24

The story of Zuko Wayne begins with a bright light over an icy sea.

A bright light rocketed into the sky, parting the clouds. A boy with his left eye horribly scarred in a military uniform on a Fire Navy ship, his black ponytail fluttering in the wind, gripped the railing of the ship as he watched the light.

"Finally!" Prince Zuko yelled, whirling around to face a smaller man in a similar uniform who was playing some sort of board game at a small table, "Uncle, do you realize what this means!?"

Iroh, Zuko's uncle, looked up at his nephew with a calm expression, a game piece in his outstretched hand. "I won't get to finish my game?"

Zuko rolled his eyes and he turned back around, staring at the space where the light had been. "It means my search is about to come to an end." At his uncle's disinterested sigh, Zuko turned around again, gesturing behind him. "That light came from an incredibly powerful source! It has to be him!"

"Or it's just the celestial lights. We've been down this road before, Zuko," Iroh said, placing the game piece back on the board before looking back up at the prince. "Please, sit. Why don't you enjoy a cup of calming Jasmine tea?"

"I don't need any calming tea!" Zuko snarled, "I need to catch the Avatar-" he broke off to shield his face with his arms from the sudden wind.

A small purple tornado was in between Zuko and Iroh, pulsating with a strange light. It started to flatten into a portal, moving towards Zuko.

"Zuko, Move!" Iroh cried, lunging to grab his nephew out of the portal's way, but his cries never made it to Zuko's ears as the prince fell into the swirling vortex.

-

Crime Alley, Gotham City, Earth 2

"Oomph," Zuko grunted as he landed on a hard concrete surface. He sat up slowly, resting his hand on his forehead, dizzy. He blinked several times, trying to take in his bizarre surroundings.

A carriage-looking device was rolling through the street, no animals pulling it.

There were poles on either side of the street with lights shining out of them, lights that weren't coming from lanterns.

However, the most bizarre thing he could see was the man dressed similarly to a wolfbat in front of him.

Zuko scrambled to his feet, igniting a fire in front of his fist threateningly. "Stay back!" he snarled.

The man said nothing, looking at him closely. Zuko's skin was crawling; there was something unsettling about this man- or at least, he thought it was a man.

After thirty seconds of only the sound of Zuko's heavy breathing, the man spoke. "What's your name?" he said in a deep, gravely voice.

Zuko tightened his fists. "I am Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation," he said, "Now tell me; where am I!?"

"Gotham City," the hulking man replied.

Zuko swallowed. His father had made sure that Zuko knew the name of every city in the world.

He'd never heard of Gotham City.

"You've never heard of it." The man's words were more of a statement than a question. "Well, I've never heard of the Fire Nation. It doesn't exist."

"What are you talking about!?" Zuko was struggling to keep his voice even at this point. "The Fire Nation is the most dominating force in the world!"

"Not in this world, it isn't," the man growled.

"What do you mean 'this world!?'"

"You fell through a portal, you claim to be a prince although there is no record of a prince named Zuko ever existing, and there is no such thing as the Fire Nation," the man listed, "It's clear you aren't from this world."

Zuko's eyes flew open as his breathing became heavier. A different world? That wasn't possible. The fire in front of his hand fizzled out as he gripped the sides of his head.

The man was silent, before; "Come with me."

Zuko, too mind-boggled to argue, followed the man robotically to one of the carriages. The man opened the door for him, and Zuko stepped in. He didn't register anything else until he heard another man speak.

"Batman," an elderly man on a holographic screen was saying, "How was your night?"

"Alfred," Batman grumbled, "Prepare a room. I'm bringing someone."

"Would this 'someone' happen to be another child?"

"Yes," Batman replied. The man sighed.

"Of course I will prepare him a room, but Batman, you really need to get a hobby other than collecting children," the elderly man said before the screen disappeared.

"H-How did you do that!?" Zuko asked, dumbstruck, "How did you speak to that man!? He isn't in this carriage!"

"Car," Batman corrected him, "And it's video chat. I'm assuming technology was not as advanced in the Fire Nation?"

"We had war balloons," Zuko defended with a sniff. He looked out the window at the surroundings zooming behind them. "How are we moving so fast?"

"Five cylinder engine."

"That makes no sense."

"It will, once you've been here a while."

"What are you talking about!?" Zuko said with a start, "I need to go home!"

"That portal," Batman said, turning to look at him, "has been a problem for the past three years. It only opens annually. We'll try to get you back, but you'll probably have to wait until next summer."

"Next summer," Zuko repeated. His eyes narrowed. "That's unacceptable! I just found the Avatar, I need to capture him so I can regain my honor!"

Batman said nothing. Another screen appeared, the words 'call from Nightwing' displayed. At Batman's word of approval, a man with black hair and a domino mask appeared on the screen.

"Batman!" Nightwing yelled with a wide smile, "I hear I'm getting a little brother! Who is he?"

"Someone who came from Ziphran's Portal," Batman replied. Nightwing whistled lowly.

"Ooh, a dimension hopper! Like Jon! They can bond- no Damian this does not mean he won't be your friend anym- Damian put down your utility belt you are not hurting your new brother."

"I'd like to see him try," Zuko snorted.

From off-screen, Zuko heard someone screech, "Was that a fucking challenge?!" before Nightwing turned around, scolding whoever it was for using that kind of language. The video feed cut out as they pulled up to a waterfall.

Batman drove the car through it, entering a cave. Zuko's eyes widened. There were machines everywhere. More high-tech than Zuko could have ever imagined.

Batman stopped on a circular platform, and the doors opened. Zuko stepped out, looking around at the room. His gaze landed on three people.

One was Nightwing, the other a boy in a red and green outfit who looked to be about thirteen, and another boy around Zuko's age in a red outfit. All were wearing masks.

"This is Zuko," Batman introduced, putting a hand on Zuko's shoulder, who quickly ripped it off. "He's a prince from a place called the Fire Nation."

The boy in red laughed. "Prince? Aww, poor Robin isn't the only prince anymor-" he was cut off as the youngest punched him in the stomach.

"So, are we adopting him?" Nightwing asked excitedly, looking Zuko up and down. Zuko stepped back nervously, not used to someone being so happy at the thought of spending time with him.

Batman didn't answer, instead looking down at Zuko. "How did you get your scar?" he asked.

Zuko almost didn't respond, but the glare Batman was giving him was too much. "I spoke out of turn and told my father that we shouldn't purposely kill our troops," he spluttered, "And so he challenged me to an Agni Kai, and when I refused to fight him, he lit my face on fire."

"Ope, he's got trauma!" the boy in red yelled from where he was seated at a chair, "And black hair! He meets all the qualifications for adoption!"

"No!" Zuko snapped, glaring at the boy, "I can't stay here! I have to capture the Avatar so I can regain my honor!"

The boy laughed again. "Okay, Edgelord, chill. You'll be able to go back in a year."

"He will be staying here," Batman said before Zuko could verbally assault the boy, "Because he's from another world, we can't put him on the streets."

"So, we should introduce ourselves!" Nightwing suggested. He took off his mask. "I'm Dick Grayson," he pointed at the boy in red, "That's Tim Drake," he pointed at Robin, "And that's Damian Wayne. There's also Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Father did not adopt Brown or Gordon."

"Maybe not legally, but emotionally? Waynes." Dick turned back to Zuko, "We usually aren't all here together, but my apartment in Bludhaven got bombed and Tim got sick of his neighbors, so we're here until we find a new place. Jason's coming in a couple days to see Alfred, and he's supposed to start coming to breakfast once a week."

At that moment, two girls walked down the stairs. One had blonde hair, the other black hair. The blonde one smiled. "Ooh! Bruce, you got a new one!" she did a flip off of the stairs, landing in front of Zuko. "My name's Stephanie! I'm excited to get to know you!"

Zuko glared at her. "You won't have the chance to get to know me. I'm leaving so I can capture the Avatar. I need to regain my honor!"

Stephanie scrunched her nose as she took in Zuko's hair. "The only thing you need is a hair cut."

"On it," the other girl- Cassandra -said, before taking out a throwing star from her pocket and hurling it at Zuko, slicing his ponytail clean off. Zuko's jaw dropped as he watched it fall to the ground.

"No!" he yelled, "My top knot was the only thing distinguishing me as a member of the royal family!"

"Oof," Stephanie winced, "Sorry, dude, but it's ugly."

"On that note," the elderly man from the call- Alfred -said from the top of the stairs, "I think it's time Master Zuko get some rest. He's had a long day."

As Alfred spoke, Zuko realized that he was, indeed, dead on his feet. Maybe it was lack of sleep, maybe it was the fact that he didn't have anywhere else to go, or maybe it was Dick's bright smile, but Zuko felt that he would be safe at this place. He nodded, trudging his way up the stairs.

Alfred led him to a room on the third floor, and turned on the light. Zuko scrunched his eyebrows in surprise.

"How did you do that!? You just flipped that switch and that lantern lit!"

"It's a lightbulb, Master Zuko," Alfred explained, "I take it your world didn't have electricity? Here, almost everything is automatic, made to make activities easier. I'm sure you'll grow to enjoy them. Take a shower while I get you some of Master Timothy's clothes to wear to sleep."

"Shower?" Zuko asked.

"Yes, it's like a bath but the water falls on you." Alfred led him to a smaller room in his bedroom. "Here, I'll show you."

As Zuko stepped into the shower, his mind was reeling. A shower was warm rain solely used for washing. Cars were carriages with no animals to pull them that traveled ten times as fast. He was in another world, away from everything he'd ever known.

Away from Uncle Iroh.

Zuko sighed, stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry off with. He opened the door of the bathroom, and saw clothes on the bed. Putting them on, he noticed how strange they were.

They weren't robes. It was a plain red shirt and the comfiest pair of pants he'd ever been in. It was the comfiest outfit he'd ever been in, really.

But it wasn't Fire Nation apparel. Alfred must have taken his military uniform to wash it. His ponytail gone, Zuko had nothing to remind him of home.

As he laid his head on the pillow, one last thought fluttered through his brain: I'm completely alone.

-

The next two days consisted of Zuko staying either in his room or wandering around the manor, trying to learn the layout. Alfred would bring him meals three times a day, but other than that, he left him alone. He was starting to relax. If these people were going to hurt him, they would have by now.

On his fourth day, Zuko was in the library, when he overheard Damian complain that he had nobody to practice broadsword with.

"I'm good with those," Zuko said. Dick and Damian looked up from the corner where'd they been.

"Finally, someone who is willing," Damian replied, "Come, Zuko, let's go."

_

Damian and Zuko were circling each other, each holding blunted broadswords. Dick was watching from the sidelines, smiling.

Zuko struck first, spinning around and using the momentum to drive his sword into Damian's side, who did a backflip to dodge.

Damian rushed forward, slashing downward at Zuko's head. The latter quickly brought up both swords, blocking Damian's attack.

They were evenly matched, the 'princes' were. The fight went on for an hour, neither landing a hit on the other.

A 21 year old man with black hair came in 30 minutes in, cheered Zuko on, yelled that his name was Jason, and at the 45 minute mark began texting on his phone.

Finally, the two called a truce, both drenched in sweat. Zuko turned to Jason and Dick.

Dick was smiling widely at him, and Zuko was shocked at the effect it had on him. The smile made him feel like he was the only person in the room.

Zuko nodded at Dick, before turning to Jason. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing to the phone.

"This, my dear boy, is a phone," Jason waved it in the air. "You can talk to anybody in the world with it, no matter how far away they are, and they get it instantly and respond instantly. And you can search through the internet, which is like a giant library with every single thing you could ever want to know about in a split second."

"Seriously?" said Zuko, "That's insane."

"Tim's already working on one for you," Dick said, "He's putting all of our phone numbers in it and stuff." he gasped, slapping Jason on the shoulder. "We gotta put him in the group chat."

Four hours later, Zuko had his phone, and was in the group chat called 'The Waynez'

dick: YO ZUKO'S HERE duke: whaddup dude i'm duke i'm in san fran rn

Zuko frowned. He went to safari, and googled "san fran."

zuko: what are you doing there? duke: mission with kon tim: how is my bff duke: if he doesn't take those stupid sunglasses off i will literally steal his kneecaps jason: lmao me

Zuko sucked his teeth as he read the conversation, hopping on to his bed. "Steal kneecaps?" he muttered, "Just what kind of family did I get myself into?"

zuko: what kind of family did i get myself into ? dick: the best! jason: just wait till b lets you join us in our nightly activities zuko: like that nightwing and batman thing? zuko: also does b stand for bruce or batman? jason: it stands for Bitch jason: & yes that thing. i'm red hood, tim's red robin, duke is signal, and damian's robin damian: if you call father a bitch one more time jason: iF yOu CaLl FaThEr A bItCh OnE mOrE tImE jason: what are you gonna do ur like four feet tall damian: say goodbye to your kneecaps motherfucker dick: DAMIAN NO tim: AHAHDJ DAMIAN duke: GUYS HE'S GONNA THINK YOU'RE SERIOUS jason: you literally started it??

Zuko let out a huff of laughter. Siblings who only fought in a joking manner?

He could get used to this.

-

Zuko was nine.

He laughed, looking up at a younger Uncle Iroh with shining, happy eyes, unscarred. "I love you, Uncle!" he chirped.

Iroh smiled warmly. "I love you too, Zuko."

"ZUKE!"

Zuko woke from his dream with a start to see a figure standing over him.

Dick grinned. "Hey, do you wanna go on a- put that fire out, it's me -do you wanna go on a drive?"

"But it's-" Zuko looked at the clock beside his bed "It's 2:00 AM! And I was sleeping!"

"Did you have any dreams?"

"No," Zuko lied, looking at Dick's shoes, "I don't have dreams,"

"Fine," Dick said, putting up his hands in surrender, "Don't tell me. But come on, get dressed!"

"But it's so early!"

"It's only 2:00 am, I'm usually out right now!" Dick huffed, before walking to Zuko's closet and grabbing jeans and a blue t-shirt- Alfred must have gone and got him clothes -and threw them at him. Zuko groaned as the clothes hit his face.

"Alright, alright!" Zuko gave in, getting out of bed with a stretch of his arms. "Give me five minutes."

"I'll make you some coffee, so you'll be awake!" Dick said as he left the roof, shutting the door behind him.

"Coffee?" Zuko said aloud as he put on the clothes, slipping blue Nike tennis shoes on. "What's that?" His phone chimed- the group chat -and Zuko grabbed it off of his nightstand to look at it.

dick: hey Tim I'm giving Zuko some of your coffee

tim: ??? why

dick: So he'll stay awake. we're going on a drive.

jason: take the bat mobile i dare you

dick: no we're taking my mustang

jason: coward

dick: ANYWAY

dick: i don't think he's ever had coffee before

tim: like ever? fine but only this once maybe then he'll go to Starbucks with me

tim: SINCE NOBODY ELSE IN THIS FAMILY WILL

damain: will you all be quiet, I'm busy.

jason: yeah he's at emiko's

duke: OH SHIT

damian: i haven't spoken to emiko in months, you imbecile.

jason: that's not what Roy said, brat

"Who's Emiko?" Zuko asked Dick as he opened the door to his room where he was waiting for him.

"She's this girl Damian tried to get to join his team," Dick explained, leading him to the kitchen as he put a pack of coffee into the keurig, "Jason gives him crap about her because they're so much alike."

Zuko nodded. "So, what exactly is coffee?"

"It's this drink that has caffeine in it, which is a drug that gives you energy, in simple terms," Dick explained, "Tim loves it. I don't think he's addicted, but he loves the taste." Dick poured the coffee into a different cup, took a gallon of almond milk out of the fridge, and poured some into it. "Starbucks is a huge coffee chain. They're all over the world. They have tons of different recipes, but almond milk lattes are how I like mine." He handed the cup to Zuko.

Zuko took a sip, and he hummed. "This is really good," he said, "Kind of bitter, but good."

"Right?" Dick led Zuko to another room and opened the door to a garage filled with cars. He pressed a button on his keys, and the car blinked, the doors opening. "Hop in, Zuke!"

"Don't call me that," Zuko grunted, getting in the car as he took another sip of the coffee. Dick, not fazed, told him to buckle up and took off.

"Did you have music in the Fire Nation?" Dick asked as they drove down the road, not yet in Gotham.

"Yeah," Zuko replied, looking out the window. "We had sungi horns and folk songs."

"So... no My Way by Queen Key, I'm guessing?"

"What?"

Dick smiled widely and turned on the radio. "Play My Way," he said to the car, and a song started playing.

Zuko's face scrunched up as it started. "This is music?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Meanwhile I'm turnt as fuck!" Dick sang off-key, "I left my pizza in the oven that bitch burnt as fuck!"

Zuko raised his eyebrows with a flat look on his face, but to his annoyance, he found himself not minding the song. And eventually, with Dick's calming presence and encouragement, Zuko began to sing with him."Bitch, my way! My way! My way!" the brothers sang, Zuko's voice quiet while Dick's was loud. As the song ended, Dick handed Zuko his phone.

"Here, pick one!" he said, before turning his eyes back to the road.

"I won't know any of them, though," Zuko reminded him, "What if I pick a bad one?"

"Then we'll sing it anyways!" Dick replied, "Because you picked it out!"

Zuko looked down, scrolling through the playlist. Go Hard, Watch Me, Love Story... he didn't know any of these songs, but tapped the song Starstrukk.

Dick gasped as the song started. He turned up the volume until the car was vibrating from the bass. Headbanging, Dick started screeching.

“Nice legs, daisy dukes, makes a man go WOO HOO!"

"Dick, wasn't that a whistle?"

"I can't whistle so I have to say woo-hoo."

Zuko found himself liking this song too, and once again, sang along with Dick at the second chorus.

"I think I should know!! How!! To make love to something innocent without leaving my fingerprints out!! Now!! L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce!"

"Here," Dick said, grabbing the phone and pulling up the lyrics, "Sing along!"

With the lyrics in front of him, Zuko sang the rest of the song with Dick, gradually getting louder until the both of them were screaming at the top of their lungs. At the end of the song, the two laughed.

"That was so good!" Dick praised. Zuko started to answer, before both of their phones chimed.

tim: zuko did you like the coffee

zuko: yes

tim: ok good we r going to Starbucks tomorrow

duke: ?? don't you have work??

tim: i'll tell them I'm spending time with the newest wayne so i'll be late tam will understand

duke: bro bruce hasn't had a press conference about him yet

tim: tam knows I'm red robin i think she can keep this secret

zuko: what time?

tim: 9 so u can sleep in

damian: you're being oddly nice, drake, you're never that nice to me

tim: i literally took a bullet for you like three months ago.

zuko: it's okay, you don't have to wait that long for me

tim: ?? what r u talking about ur my brother, ofc i do

Zuko blinked, not expecting that. They'd only known him for two days, and they considered him family? "Isn't it really soon to accept me?" Zuko said aloud to Dick, "I mean, I haven't helped or contributed or anything."

"So?" Dick gave Zuko a weird look. "You don't have to earn our acceptance. You had it from the moment Bruce decided to adopt you."

Zuko didn't answer. He must be lying, or just trying to make him feel better. You can't just accept someone into a family without cause.

"Now," Dick turned down the volume, "Look outside!" Zuko did as he was told, and his eyes flew open.

It was beautiful. Multicolored lights blurring as they sped past them, architecture that Zuko had never seen. "It's gorgeous," he whispered.

"I figured you'd like it," Dick chuckled. They drove around the city for a while longer, Zuko in awe. Finally, they pulled back into the garage at the Manor.

"So, you have fun?" Dick asked as they got out of the car. Zuko nodded.

"Yeah. I did."

_

"WAKE UP!"

Zuko lurched awake, glaring at Tim above him. "Do you guys always wake each other up like this?"

"Only when there's things to do!" Tim answered, "Now come on! We'll take my car. I'm so excited man."

Zuko, exhausted, yawned as he followed Tim down the stairs to the garage he'd been in seven hours earlier. Getting into a Ferrari, they took off.

"So, Zuko, what was life like in the Fire Nation?"

"Very different."

"How so?"

Zuko pursed his lips together, not answering. Tim shrugged.

"Alright. Keep your secrets." Tim pulled into a parking lot and shut the car off. "We're at the second most glorious place in the universe!"

"What's the first?"

"My therapist's office," Tim replied casually, "My friend Kon's making me go. I'm the only one in the family who goes, even though we all need it."

"What's therapy?" Zuko inquired as they got out of the car.

"It's, like, treatment for your mental health. Your issues. Dealing with your past. I needed it for sure," he pointed at his head, "Lots wrong up here." He laughed. "You probably need it too, Edgelord."

Zuko grunted in response as they stepped inside the building. Tim inhaled the air with a smile. "Doesn't that smell amazing?"

It did smell good. It smelled like coffee. He'd only smelled it once before, but Zuko had decided that it was one of his favorite scents.

"So, Dick gave you his almond lattes with no sweetener, right?" Tim looked at Zuko with a raised eyebrow. At his nod, Tim added, "Was it too bitter or was it good?"

Zuko looked around the coffee shop, surprised at the number of people in line. "Too bitter," he answered.

"Okay," You could tell that the gears in Tim's mind were turning, and he asked, "Are you hot right now?"

"I'm always hot, I'm a firebender-" he was cut off by  Tim slapping his hand over his mouth.

"Maybe in your world, people are open about powers," Tim said sternly, "But in our world, if anyone finds out who you are, bad things will happen. That's why Batman and everyone else wear masks."

Zuko nodded, and Tim took away his hand. The firebender cleared his throat. "Well, yeah, I'm always hot. Doesn't usually bother me though."

"So do you think you'd like a cold drink or a hot one?"

"Cold coffee?" Zuko echoed, crossing his arms over his chests, "I'll try it."

"Alrighty," Tim said with a grin, gesturing for Zuko to follow him to the line. Zuko flinched as he saw people staring at him, at his scar. Hearing mutters about it, he looked down, trying to hide it.

Noticing this, Tim scowled. He raised his head high. "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, ward of Bruce Wayne," he said loudly, "And if any one of you continue whispering about him, or make him uncomfortable in any way, I will personally sue you for harassment!"

Apparently the name 'Wayne' carried some weight, as everybody looked away. Tim turned back to Zuko. "So, let's try a caramel macchiato."

Zuko took a drink after the barista handed it to him, and he nodded. "I love it, really good."

"Starbucks is always good," said Tim, "Now come on, let's get you back to the manor."

Another week passed, and Zuko started to grow comfortable. He wasn't happy there, sure, but the Waynes were welcoming, and he was actually starting to consider them friends.

In therapy, Tim had been talking about his trauma, and because it helped, he'd roped the family into doing the same.

Zuko was shocked. He couldn't believe how much they've went through. Damian's childhood. Jason's death and resurrection. Bruce and Dick watching their parents die, and their sexual assaults. Tim, who'd watching everyone he cared about die. Cass, who was treated as nothing more than a weapon for most of her life.

Finally, it was his turn. "Do I have to do this?"

"Zuko, if I have to, you have to," Damian snorted. Zuko sighed, biting his lip nervously.

"So, my mom was banished before me. Then when I was 13, I was sitting in during a military meeting, and I spoke up, telling my father that he shouldn't purposely kill our troops," he laughed bitterly, "So instead of grounding me like Bruce does, he challenged me to an Agni Kai, and when I wouldn't fight him, he lit my face on fire and banished me, saying I could only return if I captured the Avatar, who hadn't been seen in a hundred years."

Jason whistled lowly. "No offense but your dad fuckin sucks."

"He only did it to teach me respect!" Zuko snarled, clenching his fists.

"Jason," Tim scolded, "The rule is that after we share our story, nobody comments on it."

"Okay, but Zuko's acting like Damian did when he first came here," Jason argued, "Thinking that the people who are supposed to protect them are allowed to hurt them." He turned to Damian. "Is that something your grandfather would do?"

"Yes," Damian said without a beat, "Absolutely."

Zuko gritted his teeth. "You're wrong. All of you!" He rose to his feet and stormed up the stairs to his room.

My father loves me, that's why he gave me the chance of capturing the Avatar! Zuko thought as he slammed the door to his room. If he didn't care for me, he wouldn't have gave me a chance to earn back his love!

Then why do these people love you without conditions? a small voice in his head spoke.

Zuko clenched his fists, and started punching the wall. He continued punching until his knuckles were bloody. He continued punching until he fell asleep.

And yet, he woke up in his bed. He blearily opened his eyes, confused as he looked at the spot where he'd fallen asleep. The holes in the wall were there, but the blood was gone, and his knuckles were bandaged. Looking to his nightstand, Zuko saw a note.

I'm sorry for carrying you without asking, but I didn't want you to hurt your back from sleeping on the tile. Come down to the cave in the morning to change your bandages. - Bruce

Bruce had listed him off the floor solely so Zuko's back wouldn't hurt. He'd cleaned up the blood in the middle of the night so Zuko wouldn't have to see it. He'd even bandaged his hands.

This family didn't make any sense.

_

A week later, Tim and Zuko were at Starbucks. Zuko was sipping his caramel macchiato, repeatedly checking his phone while Tim worked on his laptop.

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Nervous?"

Today was the day that Bruce Wayne was announcing that he had adopted another kid. There would be pictures of him, Zuko would have to post on the Instagram that Tim had made for him, and he couldn't imagine all of the comments about his scar. "No, not at all."

"It'll be okay," Tim said, shutting his laptop so he could better face Zuko. "It can't be worse than whenever Damian was revealed. 'Bruce Wayne has love child?' "Young Wayne looks to have serious mental health issues'" he rolled his eyes, "Damian was so mad."

"When will I be interviewed?" Zuko asked, tapping his fingers against the table.

"We don't know yet," Tim replied, "We're hoping to get anybody but Vicky Vale. She's a vulture." he paused. "But don't worry. We'll all be there with you."

"I'm not worried," Zuko insisted, "I just... need to know so I can clear my schedule."

Tim raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh? Brooding take up a lot of time?"

"Shut it, Tim-Wit." Zuko's phone chimed, and he jumped with a start before looking at it. Sure enough, the article titled 'Bruce Wayne Adopts Another' was up.

"It's out!" Tim said, "Great! Time to post on Instagram!"

"What?" Zuko panicked, "Already? But- but my scar!"

"It'll get shown eventually," Tim pointed out, "Plus, Dick and I already have our pictures picked out. Dick has the one of you smiling when he got you two matching shirts."

Zuko smiled softly, tugging on the hem of the before mentioned shirt, a dark blue Ralph Lauren.

"And they're up!" Tim said with a grin, shoving his phone in Zuko's face, "Take a look!"

"That's a good picture," he voiced. Tim nodded, muttering an agreement, before showing him Dick's post.

Zuko replied to Jason’s comment with an eye roll, before he froze, the caption sinking in. He blinked in shock. Dick would... die for him? He shook his head. "I still don't get why you guys care for me so much. Like I said, I haven't done anything to earn it."

Tim gave him a sad look. "Zuko, don't you get it? We don't love you because you did something to earn it or whatever. We love you simply because you exist."

[loversamongus]

Coffee, Chills, and Closeness | modern!Zuko x reader

a/n: I was really happy with the way Friends, Fevers, and Family Movies came out so I decided to write a sequel to it in which you now have to take care of a sick, grumpy, little Zuko. I just really love good ol’ fluff.

warnings: characters sick with the flu; some language

words: 2.2k

After a few more days of bed rest and bowls of Katara’s special flu season homemade soup, you were starting to feel much better. The color reappeared in your face, the bounce returned to your step, and clarity chased out the dizziness in your head. Your best friends noticed your change in health and mood almost immediately.

“Must be my soup,” Katara said as you bounced past her in the kitchen to reach your cereal. You couldn’t help but question a knowing look in her eye. You raised an eyebrow in response.

“Or maybe just some good nights of sleep,” she continued. “You’ve had a smile plastered on your sleepy face for a couple nights now.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you’ve been watching me sleep and eat my breakfast now, if you don’t mind.”

But what Katara said couldn’t be completely ignored, no. You don’t often remember your dreams, but recently you’ve been able to remember one recurring image that has appeared in your subconscious for the last few nights in a row. A certain shaggy haired, golden eyed someone kissing your forehead, just the remembrance of the sensation is enough to give you the chills again. Of course, there were cowboy dolls and astronaut action figures dancing in the background so the mushiness of the dream didn’t last too long.

It’s funny how the nostalgia of your childhood could wiggle its way into any dream, conversation, or movie night decision. You didn’t have a particularly cushy childhood but it was stable enough compared to your friends. While little you sat on the floor of your living room rewatching The Lion King for the umpteenth time, Sokka and Katara were mourning the loss of their mother, Aang was shouldering enormous responsibility that isolated him from his grammar school friends, Toph was being sheltered and completely restricted from most activities by her parents, and Zuko. Well Zuko hasn’t shared much about his childhood with you but the parts he did definitely weren’t filled with faith, trust, and pixie dust.

Your thoughtful reminiscing was quickly interrupted by Sokka barging through the front door, carrying three cups of Jasmine Dragon tea. While handing one cup to his sister and one cup to you, a devilish smirk grew on his face.

“You got your boyfriend sick.”

“My what?”

“You heard me. Iroh told me he came in for his shift all wheezing and hacking and snivelly and had to send him home. Sounds a lot like someone I know.”

“I- Sokka, Zuko isn’t my boyfriend. “

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not the funniest, sexiest, strongest, most talented man on the planet.”

You heard Katara nearly choke on her orange juice and you reached to pat her on the back before grabbing your wallet and house keys.

“Okay well, I don’t have time to unpack all of that with you. I have to get to the diner.”

At this point, Sokka had already made his bowl of cereal and with a very full mouth, he seemed to be talking to his spoon more so than you. “That’s because you know it’s Zuko.”

“What?”

“I said tell Suki I love her!”

With a roll of your eyes, you headed out the door. For a few moments, you grumbled to yourself over the annoyance of Sokka’s teasing. But very quickly into your walk to the diner, a wave of guilt rushed over you. Zuko is sick with the flu. You knew you shouldn’t have snuggled up to him or cried on his shoulder while watching Toy Story 2!

“Okay but it’s not all my fault. He’s the one that kissed me on my feverish forehead. That was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself.

Once at the diner, you headed to the workroom to get your apron but before starting the breakfast shift, you took out your phone to send a quick text.

hey heard you were sick :( how ya doing?

Not a minute goes by before you get a response.

Uncle exaggerates. I’m completely fine.

Letting out a sigh, you wonder how you could have met anyone as stubborn as you. The small smile forming on your lips is quickly erased by the sound of your manager calling for you to get on the floor. Your sick friend would have to wait.

The morning shift started out the same as it always had, and you were grateful for the routine after being out sick for the past week. A couple of the regulars welcomed you back with warm smiles and kind tips, while you still made sure to avoid small talk with some of the other diner patrons. Seriously, what was up with that cabbage obsessed man? The morning hours seemed to fly by with ease. Just as you were refilling a coffee pot, however, your calm routine was shattered when you noticed a very pale, black-haired man slouched over one of your tables.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled at him before passing his table to refill one of your other table’s coffee mugs.

“Getting some breakfast,” he whispered back, propping his droopy head up on his hand.

“Well it’s almost lunch now, you idiot.”

“Getting some brunch then.” A dopey smile appeared on his face but you could see in his eyes that he must not have slept well last night.

“Zuko,” you said, almost scolding. “You shouldn’t be here. You have the flu.”

“I do not. I’m just tired. Can I have some coffee, please?”

“If you’re just tired, why do you sound all congested?” you asked as you poured some coffee for him.

“Allergies,” he replied simply but unconvincingly.

“Oh my god, Zuko,” you began to raise your voice but immediately regretted it when you saw your friend raise his hands to his head. A migraine no doubt, the memory of those still fresh in your head from your own bout with the flu. Lowering your voice, you spoke to him again.

“Why did you come here when you’re sick?”

“It’s Tuesday. I always come in for breakfast on Tuesdays to see you.”

Goddamnit. After being out for a week, you completely lost track of what day it was. Also goddamnit again. Zuko really dragged himself out just to keep up this little ritual even though he looks AWFUL. Okay, not completely awful because somehow even when he’s sick, the way he looks at you could give you chills and suddenly you’re remembering that forehead kiss again and--

“Excuse me, miss? Can I get some more orange juice?”

“Yes, of course. One moment please,” you snap out of your thoughts and reply to your waiting tables.

Before going over to satisfy your customer’s request, however, you turn back to Zuko with a gentle smile. “I’ll bring you some toast and some fruit. I’m sure that’s all you’ll be able to keep down anyways.”

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to fill Zuko’s order and once it was complete, you headed back over to his direction. You had to stop right in your tracks for a moment though and take in the picture before you. In the booth sat a sleepy little Zuko still perched up on his hand but his eyes have fluttered shut. Noiselessly, you place down his plate of toast and fruit in front of him and gently nudge his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Eat as much as you can. I’ve got one more table to take care of before my shift ends. Then you can drive me home. If you can stay awake, that is.”

“Mmmmmm thanks,” he muttered into his hand. 

You left him to pick at his food while you finished up with your last table. When you returned to Zuko about twenty minutes later, you jokingly congratulated him on eating half of his toast and a couple pieces of cantaloupe-- probably more than you had eaten when you had the flu yourself. As you started taking away his plate, you caught Zuko reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet. Knowing what little you actually served him, you stopped him before he could take out more bills than was necessary.

“No, stop. We talked about this. I don’t take tips from friends.”

“It’s only fair and it’s the right thing to do.”

“No. You took care of me when I was sick, that covers it fine.”

“How ‘bout another tip? You should wear your hair up more often. It looks nice like that.”

“Here’s one for you. You’re delirious. Give me your keys, I’m driving.”

With that, your shift was over and you were gathering your things to go home. Zuko did manage to put up a little bit of a fight over letting you drive but once you shot him your “I’m serious, mister” look, he finally gave in. It was a short drive back home but you couldn’t help but glance over at your passenger every now and again. It was rare to see Zuko in such a state as he is always the put-together one in the friend group. That wave of guilt rushes over you again since you were the one that got him sick in the first place.

“No, it was the forehead kiss. His own fault,” you mumble to yourself.

“What?”

“NOTHING. Uh, Katara still has some leftover soup. Why don’t you come up and have some? OH! And we can finish Toy Story 2 since someone didn’t let me finish it last time.”

“I’ll come for the soup but not for the movie.”

“ZUKO. I was cured by the nostalgic joy of my childhood, it can cure you, too!!”

“I don’t have any ‘nostalgic joy from my childhood’ in case you forgot. My mother left, my father scarred my face, and my sister hates me.”

Thankful you had come to a red light, you looked over to Zuko with concern. But he did not look back. His head was leaning on the window and with his arms folded, he avoided your gaze and continued to stare out the window.

“Well, all the more reason to finish the movie,” you tried to say lightheartedly, but the rest of the drive was silent.

Once you’ve reached the apartment, you ordered Zuko to make himself comfy on the couch while you threw some soup in the microwave. You spy a note on the kitchen counter from Katara explaining that she’s out to lunch with Aang and Sokka went to the gym with Suki. You smiled, happy that you could avoid good-natured sibling teasing for the time being. When the soup was ready, you turned to find Zuko sitting on the couch under a pile of blankets and holding the remote for the DVD player.

“I thought you didn’t want to finish the movie,” you questioned, handing him the bowl of soup.

“But you do.”

Your grinned ecstatically, quickly moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“You shouldn’t get too close. You’ll get sick again.”

“I’m immune now, it’s fine,” you said as you reached to share one of his blankets.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works. At all,” he replied, but his protests ended there as the movie started back up.

As you were getting yourself comfortable on the couch, your arm grazed Zuko’s and your body shook, chilled from the cold skin. Zuko noticed immediately and looked over at you questioningly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, you’re just cold. Eat your soup, it’ll warm you up.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Um, I had to take those pills when you watched me so the least you can do is eat some soup.”

With a small smirk, Zuko obliged and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before laying back against the couch. You cuddled up closer to him, figuring if the soup doesn’t warm him up, you definitely could. Once you rested your head on his shoulder, his head gently tilted to rest on yours, a much familiar scene from the time you were sick. Although the roles have been reversed this time around, the warmth of happiness bursting through your chest from this closeness is unchanged. You felt his left arm wrap around you before settling at your waist, and you reach up with your right hand to hold onto his. Sure, Toy Story 2 isn’t a romantic movie by any means, but it makes you happy. Just like Zuko does.

The movie ends with Wheezy singing his rendition of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” and you looked up at Zuko as if to say, “See? I told you Wheezy comes back. I love this part,” but he’s already asleep. It seems like you’ll never be able to get him to watch the whole movie, but you sighed contently anyways. Then, in a fit of sudden boldness, you sat up to inch closer to Zuko and kiss his cheek softly. 

He stirred and looked at you through drowsy, half-closed eyes.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “I can’t kiss you back properly while I’m sick.”

You smiled and leaned in closer.

“I’ll settle for a forehead kiss for now.”

“Deal.” After giving to you what you asked for, he gazed admiringly at you for a few moments before falling back to sleep. You could have sworn he had a dopey grin on his face, too, and you wondered if this is what Katara saw on you the past few nights. You settle back against Zuko’s chest and let his breathing lull you to sleep. The two of you fell into such a deep sleep, while in each other’s arms, that not even the sound of Katara and Sokka double hi-fiving after spotting you both on the couch woke you up.

[gaangadventures]

Soulmates

I hope you guys like this one! It’s a bit longer than I originally expected, but feel free to request or tell me if I forgot any pieces in this c:

As a child, your father always said soulmates were for the weak as he didn’t have one on his wrist, your mother never said if she had one or not as hers were always covered.

You always loved the stories about them, as you had one on your wrist like most people did. Your brother had one as well, just on his right wrist while you had yours on your left, but you doubted that your sister had one since she was always bragging that she wasn’t weak like you or Zuko but strong like Father.

You wondered when you would meet them, or if you ever would. The name was odd, you thought, it didn’t sound like a Fire Nation name. But neither did your brother’s, so maybe they were travelers? 

So much of your time had been spent daydreaming about your soulmate, even though the name was faded and gray unlike your brother’s was. Your mother tried to tell you once that your soulmate had died before you could meet them, and you refused to believe it.

So much had changed, you thought, in the years that followed. Your mother had gone missing as your father became the new Fire Lord, and you and your brother had been banished.

Your brother might have wanted to return with the Avatar for his honor, but you wanted nothing to do with your father.

Not after he’d hurt Zuko like that. The memory of it had the candles surrounding you aflame and nearly scorching the metal ceiling. He didn’t deserve it, even if he believed otherwise. 

The Agni Kai that had ruined both your brother’s life and your own, had left you practically foaming at the mouth with anger even while you meditated.

The sun was only just rising as you sat in your room, your armor laying on your bed, as you began to feel the familiar warmth dance across your hands. It was close but it was as if it didn’t want to hurt you.

If not for the bandages wrapped around your right shoulder and down to your wrist, you could have forgotten that you had been scarred by a flame just so similar. You hadn’t been able to summon lightning like before, not since before your banishment.

Not that you would, the thought of it leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

A few hours more of meditating, you weren’t too sure, but there was a flash of light according to your brother and uncle, and a sudden feeling at your wrist, leaving you gasping in surprise or pain, you weren’t sure.

When you looked down at your wrist, it was as if the name had been written in ink once more, no longer faded. It was strange to see it like that, and you couldn’t help but stare at it for a few minutes, as if in awe at it.

Since you hadn’t met your soulmate, you had started to believe what your mother told you years ago, that they had died before the two of you could meet. As you were thinking, you hurried to get your cloak and you were out of your room and out with your brother and your uncle.

“That light came from an incredibly powerful force, it has to be him!” Your brother exclaimed, ever as determined to catch said Avatar and bring him back to Father.

“Or it’s just the celestial lights.” Your uncle added, as you opened our mouth to start talking but he continued while playing his game of Pai Sho. “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you to get too excited over nothing.” Your gaze switched from Zuko and your Uncle Iroh, knowing that he was getting ready to burst. “Please sit. Why don’t you enjoy a cup of calming jasmine tea?”

“I don’t need any calming tea! I need to capture the avatar! Helmsman, head a course for the light!” He shouted, and you briefly wondered if these three years at sea had done anything to help calm his temper. 

You shook your head with a small frown, turning your attention to your uncle, and holding out your arm. You held out a bit of hope for whoever your soulmate was, and now you knew they were alive. “Uncle, look. It’s like new.” You spoke, and at the thought of it, your frown had been switched with a soft smile. You were sure that if you tried to show Zuko, he would just tell you to stop daydreaming again, and to help him with finding the Avatar and you could go home too.

But Uncle Iroh only gave a knowing look before he started to talk, as if he knew something that you didn’t. “How peculiar. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate soon.” You couldn’t help it when your smile had turned into a grin with what he said. And if what you thought was true, you could only hope that whoever it was wouldn’t hate you on sight. 

“I’m going to bed now.” Letting out a yawn, the old man stretched, his attention going to your brother as you shivered and immediately went into your room. “Yep. A man needs his rest. Prince Zuko, you need some sleep. Even if you’re right, and the Avatar is alive, you won’t find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed.”

“Because their honor didn’t hinge on the Avatar’s capture, mine does. This coward’s hundred years of hiding are over.” Zuko had answered his uncle, staring out at the sea with determination.

That night, you could hardly sleep because you were so excited and mildly nervous. He’d said you might meet them soon, and you were a mix between worrying about whether or not they would hate you and excited because this had been all you wanted for years, not that you would admit that to anyone but yourself.

Waking like a regular firebender, you rose with the sun and began training as well as your brother.

“Again,” your uncle repeated, you were sure that it was going to turn into a mantra with how many times he would have to say it.

With another start, you and Zuko began to have another round of training. If you were serious about things and you weren’t like usual, while your brother was overly serious of course.

“No. Power and firebending come from the breath, not the muscles. The breath becomes energy in the body. The energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire!” As if to make an example, he did a form of his own and within seconds, he had fire out of his fist. “Get it right this time.”

“Enough. I’ve been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set. I’m more than ready.” Zuko attempted to get him to do so, and you couldn’t help but snicker as your uncle refused to.

“No, you’re impatient. You have yet to master your basics, and Y/N, you have hardly been serious about any of this training for months now.” Your snickering ceased and you shrugged your shoulders, as you had your moments of not training even if they’ve been longer than you originally thought.

“Why should I train? It’s not my life goal to capture the Avatar to regain my honor that I never lost in the first place.” You were somewhat joking to begin with, but then you just ended up being meaner than you meant to.

“You went against Father, and disrespected him! You were banished just as well as I was!”

“I went against him because I needed to.” You retorted, and you almost wished that you weren’t so much shorter than your older brother. You really wanted to slap him for lacking so much common sense.

“That is quite enough, you two.” With that light scolding from your uncle, you went into your room and didn’t come back out that night. 

Of course, the mention of the banishment still hurt, especially since you were the only one that even tried to stop it at nine years old. And you had the scars to prove it as well, but your brother was still hurt badly from it. But at least when you intervened, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

A new day began, and your brother was still bound and determined to catch the Avatar, but this one started with the entire ship temporarily stopping at some tiny village in the South Pole.

“Where are you hiding him?” He asked, before grabbing a poor old lady from the group and grabbing her by her coat. “He’d be about this age, master of all elements.”

“Zuko, let her go!” You were vehement about this and he probably already knew that you wouldn’t stop, and your brother only shoved her to a girl that looked like she could be the old lady’s granddaughter.

As you headed to the edge of the ship, only bits of your armor were on, mostly to keep you warm as your scar had a tendency to hurt sometimes. You wanted to be able to see this, and intervene if need be.

Your brother raised his hand in a half-circle towards the group, just to scare them before he continued. “I know you’re hiding him!” He cried out, before some sort of Southern Water Tribe warrior attempted to attack him only for Zuko to dodge and the other to practically fly over him and landed back in the snow.

At the least, you wanted nothing to do with any of your brother’s fights but you severely hoped that the warrior that he was fighting wouldn’t get too hurt. In a matter of moments, your attention was brought back to them when you heard a clang and saw the boomerang hit the back of his head and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.

You received a glare from Zuko in return as his anger turned to the water tribe boy, and his hands flared with flames before he was suddenly bowled over by some boy wearing orange and yellow. How strange.

The group started cheering when the boy had slid over towards them with the otter-penguin he’d been riding, and you watched as said boy moved his staff and there was suddenly a lot of snow flying over the soldiers and your brother, only for Zuko to melt it off.

“You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?” Zuko had asked, a disbelieving tone obvious in his voice. “I’ve spent years preparing for this encounter, training, meditating. You’re just a child.”

“Well, you’re just a teenager.” The boy had sassed back, and you tilted your head, already knowing that your brother was sure to lose his temper and lose.

While he threw punches of fire towards him, the boy blocked it each time with his staff, letting it out before anything could catch, but the flames were scaring the group and they screamed when it got too close.

“If I go with you, will you promise to leave everyone alone?” He said, and you thought that was either very stupid or very brave. You happened to be leaning towards the latter.

You brother got out of his battle stance and merely nodded in agreement, the soldiers already going behind the boy and leading him onto the boat.

“No, Aang, don’t do this,” the girl that your brother had pushed the old lady into pleaded, stepping forward but not close enough to worry anyone going onto the boat.

“Don’t worry, Katara, it’ll be okay.” He answered back, and you froze. You hadn’t even noticed the soldiers being rougher than they should’ve been, all you did was walk away from the edge.

“Take care of Appa for me until I get back.” He said, and you barely registered anything that was happening anymore, putting your hand over your left wrist. There were bracers covering them, but you still felt exposed.

“Head a course for the Fire Nation. We’re going home.” Your brother called out, giving you a glance as well.

While the boat sailed away from the water tribe village, you were still reeling but enough to understand what was going on.

“This staff will make an excellent gift for my father. I suppose you wouldn’t know of fathers, being raised by monks.” Zuko mocked, holding the staff in front of him.

“Seriously? How much more rude can you get?” You snapped, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. He really wanted to mock this kid about fathers, when his own literally burned his face and your arm? He had quite the nerve, didn’t he?                   

“Take the Avatar to the prison hold,” your brother continued, pointedly ignoring what you said. “and take this to my quarters.” He held the staff out to your uncle, letting Iroh take it before walking away before your uncle only turned to another soldier.

“Hey, you mind taking this to his quarters for me?” 

Within minutes of that conversation, the avatar himself was out of the soldiers’ grip and breaking doors down and you had barely gotten in front of your own room when he was trapped between soldiers. 

“Stand down.” You spoke, and with that, they were already sheathing their swords and moving to the side of the hallway.

“Of course-” one of them started, and you knew they were going to say your name, and you just shook your head, just as the boy turned to look at you.

“You haven’t seen my staff around, have you?” To which you nodded, grabbing the rope at his hands and burning the knot so his hands were free within seconds.

“C’mon, follow me.” You said, a grin already forming on your face as you raced past a few empty rooms, you were glad that you had already tried exploring through the boat that you now had memorized.

You knew it would have to be in your brother’s room, walking in first through the open door. It was odd. He never has his door open. He was expecting this, but maybe not from you, or at least you hoped not. You turned with the realization of the open door being a trap to yell at the avatar, but he was already in the room with you by the time you could say anything.

“I expected this.” He said shortly, giving you a glare that made you gaze at the floor instead, glancing back up when your brother had been defeated and your new friend?, you weren’t sure what to call him, but he was pulling you up with him.

In a matter of moments, you were flying? At the sight and the feeling of it, you were in awe and could only let out a laugh before a hand on his ankle was pulling you both back down onto the ship. 

Some sort of a growl had been heard through the crew, and it was where everyone had their attention as well.

“What is that?” Your brother had asked, and you wanted to ask the same thing, but he looked so soft! How was it flying? 

“Appa!” The avatar had yelled out, and you tilted your head, wondering if this was the same Appa he had meant previously. As they got closer, you could see the same girl--Katara, and a boy that looked like the warrior that had attacked your brother.

In his distraction, your brother had thrown fire at him once again, only for him to block it with his staff each time.

When the fire managed to singe his hands, you threw your own at your brother, already knowing that he would block it. Turning to look at Aang, you saw him tumble off the edge, his staff on the other side of the boat.

“Aang!” You yelled, and if this was the last time you saw your soulmate, you swore that it wouldn’t end like this. 

“Aang, no! Aang! Aang!” Katara had shouted, and before you knew it, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding once you could see him out of the water. He was bending the water into a spiral, and was this the Avatar state? His eyes and his arrows were glowing as he bent the water, pushing soldiers off the boat, including your brother but you assumed he would be fine.

When he was done, he had slowly dropped onto the floor, you were running towards him while the two water tribe kids flew with Appa, landing on the boat. “Are you okay?” You asked, already bent down onto your knees, checking him over for any injuries.

“Aang, are you okay?”

“Hey Katara, hey Sokka. Thanks for coming.” He said, and as if they were just now realizing that you were here, they turned to you.

“Well, I couldn’t let you have all the glory.”

“I dropped my staff.”

“Got it!”

“Get away from him!” 

“Katara, it’s okay, she saved me!”

“She’s Fire Nation!” The warrior boy exclaimed when he came back with Aang’s staff, and you only gave him a flat look as if to ask if he was just now realizing that.

“That’s fair. Nice to meet you?” You attempted to introduce yourself, before drawing up fire at the soldiers beginning to stand once more when Aang had climbed onto Appa.

As Katara stood up to fight with you, she bended water like Aang had, except accidentally freezing the warrior’s boy feet to the boat. While said boy was busy picking at the ice with the weapon, you were keeping other soldiers away with your advanced flames. You turned to see if Katara needed any help, you blinked to see the three soldiers already frozen.

“Hurry up Sokka!” She called out, already beginning to climb onto Appa.

“I’m just a guy with a boomerang. I didn’t ask for all this flying and magic.” You heard him say, finishing with the ice at his feet before hurrying up onto the bison.

You halfway expected for them to leave you there, but you were being pulled up onto it as well. You looked over the edge of the saddle to see a fireball being thrown towards you, and out of instinct, you cowered, closing your eyes for a moment, just to open them to see Aang having blasted it away with his airbending. 

You were quiet as the group flew away, your arm reaching out as if to touch the clouds, the ones you seemed to be sitting so close to. What did a cloud feel like anyway?

“How did you do that with the water? It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

“I don’t know. I just sort of did it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were the avatar?”

“Because I never wanted to be.”

“But Aang, the world has been waiting for the avatar to return and end this war.”

“But how am I going to do that?”

“According to legend, you need to first master water, then earth, then fire, right?”

“That’s what the monks told me.”

“Well, if we go to the North Pole, you can master waterbending.”

“We can learn it together!”

“And Sokka, I’m sure you’d get to knock some firebender heads on the way.”

“I’d like that.”

“I guess if we’re stuck with each other, my name is Y/N, and that guy that kept going after you is my brother, Zuko.” You spoke up, albeit hesitantly after hearing what they said, deciding to take your bracers off, you were sure that they would see the name, but with what they had done for their friend, you only hoped they would at least not kill you. Even if you probably deserved it.

“I’m Aang!” Ever the optimist, the airbender happily introduced himself, and was literally the only reason you were here.

“I’m Katara, and this is my brother, Sokka.” She said, although it was obvious that neither of them trusted you, she was at least trying to be polite. And that was okay. You couldn’t say you really expected even that much.

So you couldn’t help it when a smile had slipped onto your face, even when the two siblings looked at you like you were crazy.

[picassho-18]

Art of Fire (V)

 Zuko x Fem!Reader; Part 5; 1.6k words 

Series summary: The recently crowned Fire Lord Zuko meets a new friend of his Uncle’s, a special fire bender that quickly grabs his interest over a cup of tea and the discussion of the arts.

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this update took! Most likely the last part :) thanks for reading my dudes <3

CATCH UP HERE: Part 1   Part 2   Part 3    Part 4

As you stood in front of the closed tea shop, hand in hand, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as Zuko looked sheepishly down at you.

“How did neither of us realize that my Uncle wouldn’t be here because he was running the Capital instead of me today?”

You began to laugh louder, shocked that you hadn’t even thought about his Uncle not working at the tea shop, even though Zuko told you this very morning that Iroh was stepping in as temporary Fire Lord for the day.

“Well, I guess we aren’t getting tea today!” You managed to say in between laughs, wiping away a few tears as he began to chuckle softly.

Suddenly, he looked up again, as tugged at your joined hands, pulling you to the side of the shop.

“If memory serves me right, my Uncle usually forgets to close up the side windows…” he said, as he looked down the alley and saw the open window of the tea shop, “And my memory is immaculate” He said with a cocky wink.

“I promised you tea, and that is what you’ll be getting. You’ll just find out that I am just as good as my Uncle when it comes to making tea.”

Offering his hands, you leaped up into the windowsill, as his fingers gripped your hips, helping you up. Your breath caught a little at the contact, the warmth of his palms something still so shocking yet calming at the same time.

After you were straddling the windowsill safely, you offered Zuko your hand. He jumped up, hand clasped tightly to yours as he made it to the window. However, neither of you had thought it through, and now you were both tightly tightly cramped into the windowsill, faces very close to each other.

You giggled lightly, making eye contact with Zuko’s shining golden eyes, before you meanuvered your way through Zuko’s long legs and managed to land onto the familiar tea shop floor, Zuko right behind you.

Looking at the shop, it was very weird to see it not open and full of people, but Zuko quickie led you to the back, to the kitchen and storage room.

Still in your damp clothes from swimming in the lake, Zuko started to look into some of the many boxes in the back, and began muttering, “We usually keep some spare clothes in the back, and I can’t seem to find them… Oh. Found some!” 

You chuckled lightly, watching as he pulled out a pair of pants and some shirts. He lifted two shirts up, “Okay you got two opinions, a very oversized tan shirt that I’m pretty sure is my Uncle’s or the tea shop uniform.”

“Oh my, what a decision I have to make” you said with a smirk, “I may have to pick the huge shirt, even if it will be like a dress on me, simply because I have to see you in the uniform. Iroh has told me too many stories of you at the Jasmine Dragon for me to pass up this opportunity!”

“Oh you cruel wicked thing” Zuko teased, before handing you the shirt.

The pair of you stood there for a couple of seconds, just shyly looking at each other. Suddenly Zuko moved into action, “Oh, sorry yeah I’ll uh turn around so you can change first.”

You grinned at his awkward behavior, still stunned by how the shy man in front of you actually ruled the Fire Nation. “Thank you Zuko.”

You quickly peeled off your damp clothes, the cold air sending a shiver through your body as you peeked at Zuko’s back, as he stared firmly at the wall.

You shrugged on the large shirt, reaching your mid thigh, and very loose on you. Looking down, you realized you didn’t need the pants, it quite literally was a dress on you.

Zuko still had his back turned, so with a small surge of courage, you walked behind him quietly, and suddenly pressed a kiss to his check. He tensed at the contact, before a large smile graced his face as he turned around.

“What was that for?” he asked.

You pulled away, rocking on your heels, the shirt flowing around your legs. “Did I need a reason besides simply wanting to?”

The fiercest blush crept over his cheeks, before grabbing his own new set of clothes, “No. You don’t.”

It was your turn for your cheeks to heat up, and you looked away at the floor, a soft smile on your face. You turned around, and gave Zuko the privacy to change himself.

You heard the rustling of his clothes coming off and dropping on the floor, and you just hoped that he couldn’t hear how loud your heart was pounding. You were so focused on not freaking out at the situation you were in, or the fact that you were literally currently being courted by the Fire Lord, that you didn’t even notice Zuko creep up on you. At least until he wrapped his arms around your torso, and kissed your cheek. The warmth poured off him, even more noticeable now that you were both in dry clothes.

His lips hovered over your ear, “Just returning the favor. Because I wanted to.”

Your breath completely froze in your chest, as you slowly turned in Zuko’s arms, spinning to face him. 

Tenderly, you rested your hand on his face, just below his scarred eye, as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him in a snug embrace. 

Quietly, as if your next words might shatter the moment, you asked, “What are we doing?”

Zuko’s eyebrows scrunched up as he replied, “We are going to make tea…?”

“No, I mean, like what are we doing? What’s going on between us?” As you began to talk, Zuko’s hands fell from your waist, withdrawing from you slowly. You continued, starting to ramble slightly, “It’s just… you’re the Fire Lord! And I’m some commoner and I just, and we only met a week ago, and we don’t really know each other, and somehow in the few conversations since first seeing you in this tea shop, I’ve started to really feel something for you, but I have no clue what I’m doing. I don’t know what we’re doing...”

Slowly, as if he didn’t want to scare you away, he rested both of his hands on the sides of your face. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, the warmth soaking into your face, settling your nerves slightly.

“Y/N.” He spoke quietly, his eyes peering deep into your own. He sucked in a breath, before letting it out and spoke. “I know we barely know each other, yet I have never met another person that has had an effect on me like you. Somehow in just a few days, you burrowed your way into my soul. And I know the Fire Lord thing complicates things, but we can figure that out later. For now, I just want to learn everything I can about you. I want to be around you, and I want to listen to you laugh, I want to be the cause of your laugh… And I want to kiss you whenever I possibly can.”

Your breath hitched at his words, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from Zuko’s searing gaze. Your brain turned to mush as you tried to process his words, but you could only truly think about him, right now, in front of you, staring at you as if you were his entire world.

His golden eyes glanced down to your lips, before looking at your eyes again, “May I kiss you?”

Words couldn’t form from your mouth, so all you could do was nod.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he stepped closer to you, your body flush against his as he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours. One of his hands slid to your neck, cradling it closer to him, as the other slid around your lower back, holding you tightly. Your arms settled around his neck as you arched into him, fingers finding his hair.

His mouth wandered away from your lips, and started to pepper kisses against your jaw and then your neck. Your head fell back, as a soft moan escaped from mouth at the tender feeling of his lips against the bare sensitive skin of your neck.

At the sound, Zuko’s arms tightened even more around you, and a rumble sound in his chest.

You pulled back suddenly, a laugh bubbling up in your chest, as you smirked at Zuko, “Was that a growl?!”

His eyes widened, and stared at you sheepishly, “Maybe…”

You laughed, pulling away from his embrace, but gripping his hand firmly, “Don’t worry. I found it very hot, but let’s not forget the real purpose of this trip.”

You glanced down at his tea shop uniform, appreciating the look of the new clothes on him, “You promised me tea, and I plan to drink some of your finest”

Zuko chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your waist, then steering you towards the kitchen.

“Why of course. You deserve nothing less. Plus, my Uncle would be very disappointed in me if I didn’t make you the very best of tea.”

You laughed, smiling widely at Zuko, your heart warmed, filled to the brim with happiness. And excitement for a good cup of tea.

***

This was most likely the last part! Thank you for reading :)

Art of Fire Tag List: *now closed*

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[karebear09]

Warm Cups and Smiles (ZukoxReader fic)

Pairing: Zuko/Reader.

Prompt: modern tea shop alternate universe! After opening a successful tea shop, Zuko meets a new customer for the first time.

Word count: 1362 words.

Author notes: Hey guys! Karen here, this is my first drabble/fic I post so I tried to have some fun with it! It is also my first time writing with they/them pronouns and so feel free to send me any advice or requests if you like this! It is short but I can definitely make more parts for this. Hope you like!

The sweet scent of lavender and vanilla lingered in the air, the warmth of the place spreading through its guests the way a contagious song does. Bright smiles on blushed faces made the tea shop look like it belonged on a magazine, the bamboo seats and decor giving it a friendlier look. How had the Jasmine Dragon become the most popular place in a matter of months? No one really knew, but it surely had something to do with the whole feel around the place.

Strangely enough, the place felt like a home. It was a place where the lost could feel found, a couple bucks worth a warm cup and words of wisdom from an old man. It was the resting place for the weary, an upper level holding bookshelves full of stories and ever-so-loved sofas that were not so firm after many years. The smell of leather mixed oddly well with that of Jasmine, a soft lullaby swaying the people within in an unknown rhythm. It was the hideout of so many broken souls and wandering children in search of inspiration, that was what made the Jasmine Dragon such a wonderful place.

A cheerful cry from the welcoming bell made the boy behind the counter look up, pen between his fingers stop the light tapping against the desk. The place had been slow for the past days, people returning to their daily routine as vacations ended. The usual college students that would hurriedly order a drink and slip upstairs to finish tasks were gone, only coming later through the day for a warm drink after a long day. People who meant business no longer visited with their kids, they simply dashed through the doors with a relieved expression and a small breakfast before going to work. The old man no longer prepared the small room from the moment they arrived at the shop at 6am, children’s books hidden in a cupboard until the sun began to fall. Still, they persisted, serving those casual visitors with a warm smile and exact change.

Zuko couldn’t help but feel intrigued as he watched intently how a stranger seemed to come alive as they passed the doors. The aroma inside the shop was suddenly different, sweeter yet refreshing at the same time, why did it feel so familiar and so new all at once? A small smile started to form as he noticed the way their eyes lit up at the interior of the place, a bright spark seemingly lighting up in that stare. Maybe this could be the first time he admitted to be proud of the shop. Swallowing hard, the raven haired boy fixed his hair and wiped his hands on the jeans he was wearing, his mind going through the so repeated words that anyone else would automatically say by now.

“Hey, welcome to Zuko, I am the Jasmine Dragon.” The words came out with a cordial smile and a waving hand, it only took a soft giggle to realize what he had actually said. Embarrassment painted across his face, he only let out a defeated sigh after the warm and callous touch of his uncle settled on his shoulder. Of course, he’d messed up and now the old man would take charge, deep down he wished he could rewind time. He hid a frustrated sigh and plopped down on the seat behind him, watching as his uncle took control of the situation effortlessly. How could he do that? When would it become easier?

Golden eyes subtly darted to their newest visitor, scanning every detail he could appreciate. Had the sun always fallen so beautifully on someone? The way it lighted their figure up reminded him of those paintings of old gods and spirits, a bright smile and kind face tying the picture together. The worn out bag they carried on their side mentally reminded him of the students that often came by, crisp papers poking out from the opening on the top. How many times had those papers teased with falling out? What could they be studying? Would they skip the music and table games they had downstairs to isolate themselves up between the bookshelves? Or would they stay down to watch the art of preparing tea and desserts as so many preferred to do? His questions came to a halt as they met gazes, and in that moment he could swear that anything that happened before or after didn’t matter.

A soft blush spread through his cheeks as a light tap from Iroh brought him back to reality, a warning smile on the old man’s face that could only mean ‘get back to business’. His uncle was a kind man with a golden heart, but even a business owner had to have a harsh hand now and then. After receiving the order, Zuko mentally made a note of it, shaking his head subtly as he slipped past the man to start working on it. Usually his uncle would make the drinks, a special touch he called it, but now he seemed too entertained with their new guest. Hushed laughs and whispers were all he could hear as his back faced the counter, hands moving fast to prepare the sweet drink. Not everyone ordered an Earl Grey latte, yet the simplicity of the drink was what caught his attention the most. So many times had he messed up on the add-ons and fancy shit so many customers desires, but this was a good change of pace, something he could have fun with, he had to thank them for that.

“Oh you’re studying literature? That’s wonderful! Upstairs you’ll find some of the best books we could find around time, just treat them with care, they’re as old as these bones.” The hearty chuckle from his uncle as he patted his belly made Zuko smile brightly to himself, finally taking note of what he said. So the upper floor it’d probably be, how curious. He could’ve sworn they’d stay down to get to know the place better, but everyone’s different after all. Pressing his lips, he calmed his trembling hand as he leaned over the warm cup, the foam on top being manipulated with care, a proud hum leaving his lips as he admired his work of art. Was it close to what he had mentally pictured? Not really, but the small lotus flower winked at him as if they held a secret between them. “-Oh he’s a good boy, love him as if he was my son. Just don’t let him fool you, he might write his number on the back of the receipt if no one is looking. Ask him directly, otherwise he’ll make it seem like it was an accident.”

Was...was his uncle flirting for him? As Zuko turned his body with the big cup in hand, a brow raised at the sight of his uncle sat facing him with their new customer watching entertained. Well, that was new certainly. Rolling his eyes, Zuko shook the comment off and approached the counter, offering the warm cup with a polite smile. “Seems like you guys are having fun. Don’t worry about how much it’ll be, it’s on the house.” His voice came out an octave lower, cringing mentally at how hard he was trying. Was it noticeable? Probably, but it was worth a try. The surprised face on their guest brought out a chuckle from Iroh, who just waved his hand dismissively before disappearing into the back, a soft tune lingering from his lips.

“Are you going upstairs? The sofas are really comfortable if you want to read while you drink your tea. I’ll show you, I’ll help you with your bag if you want.” After a moment of comfortable silence, the soft nod marked the start of what could be his newest adventure, walking out from behind the counter to help a newfound friend. Soft giggles and nervous jokes were all he remembered from the moment before heading back down, a permanent smile on his lips as he continued for the rest of the day.

Oh how sweet could life be when you had a cup of tea.

[illfoandillfie]

A sequel to A12+A32 with Brian where maybe they didn’t actually break up and she stays with him even though he’s married and maybe he actually leaves his wife for her?

A12 + A32 Blurb

1000 Follower Celebration

~~~

After the fight Brian had left quickly, slamming the door behind him, tyres screeching as he took off, leaving you standing in the same spot you’d confronted him. You don’t know how long you stood there, trying to process everything. The rest of the day was spent in a daze. It was like so much had happened that you couldn’t take it all in, couldn’t feel anything. You wanted to cry or scream or throw things but didn’t have the energy. Everything was just numb as you went about your day. Until you were lying in bed that night and it all hit in a big rush. Your sleep was fitful and disjointed. An hour here, half an hour there, snatched between dreams of Brian and bouts of crying.  

When you did push yourself out of bed you went straight for your phone, calling up your friend Jasmine. You’d spent countless nights with her, discussing your relationships, lamenting lost loves or celebrating newfound singledom. She knew all about Brian already, so if anyone was going to share your heartbreak at the revelation of his family, it would be her. She arrived within ten minutes, pulling you into a hug the moment she saw your puffy eyes. You told her everything – the ring, the wife, the kids. She got every detail of the fight you’d had, listening carefully, never interrupting. And then you told her the worst part of it. Worse than the insincere apology, or the way he’d spat his parting line before disappearing out the door. Worse than all of that was the fact that you still loved him, missed him, wanted him back.  

“Maybe you’re being too harsh on him,” Jasmine suggested, “yes, what he did was shitty and he should have been more upfront about his situation but from the sound of things he isn’t happy at home. But he was happy with you. And you were happy with him.”

You were stunned, “So you think I should forgive him? He’s cheating on his wife, abandoning his kids. And he’s made me an accomplice to it all. And I should forgive him?”

“Not necessarily. I just think you should talk to him properly about it. The fight happened because you were both caught up in the emotion of it all. You were taken by surprise and you lashed out. I think you both probably said some things you didn’t mean. ANd he certainly didn’t get a chance to explain himself.”

“I guess,”

“Look just, I don’t know, meet him for coffee or something. Do it in public if you want. But you’re going to find it very hard to get closure or move on if you don’t know the full story. Give him a chance to explain, tell him why you feel so sick about it. Either he’ll have more to say or he won’t but however the conversation goes, you’ll know what you need to do.”

“I’ll think about it,”

You did think about it. Nearly constantly. You picked up the phone, got half way through dialling his number and then hung up more times than you could count. Part of you wanted to hear him out, see him again. But there was also the fear that he wouldn’t have anything else to say, that nothing would change how horrid you felt about the whole mess, that you were just setting yourself up for more heartbreak. The decision was made for you though a few days later when Brian called.  

“Hi,” his voice sounded odd. A little strained, like he was making an effort to stay calm, “I know you don’t want to see me and I’m sorry for calling but I’ve left a few things at your place. Wanted to know if I could pick them up sometime,”

“Oh, umm,”

“I’m happy to come past when you aren’t home, if you just leave them outside the back door or something.”

“I can do that. Or...” your heart was hammering in your chest but you knew what you wanted, hearing his voice wasn’t enough, “maybe you could stay for a coffee?”

“Coffee? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I feel bad about how things ended and I don’t think I was very fare to you,”

“I deserved it. I shouldn’t have...”

“You shouldn’t have, no, but I’d still like to talk about it. If you’re okay with that?”

“Are you free this afternoon? I can come by around three,”

“Three works for me,”

“Okay, I’ll see you then,”

If you’d been nervous to call it was nothing to how nervous you felt waiting for him to arrive. The clock moved so slowly you were sure it was broken. Everything felt too still and quiet, the calm before a storm, the tapping of your nails against whatever surface was in easy reach the only break. His knock on the door startled you, making you freeze on the spot until he knocked a second time and you gathered yourself together enough to answer.

“Hi,” he said softly, a small, nervous smile playing on his lips when he saw you.

“Hi, come in,” you stood back from the door to let him past, “umm, d’you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea’s fine, thank you,”

With a nod you led him to the kitchen. He knew the way, knew where you kept the tea bags and cups, but he followed you as if he didn’t. Neither of you spoke again until the tea was set in front of you at the kitchen table. Your fingers began tapping against the table top again and you wished your hands were still busy with the tea.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Brian eventually asked.

“Why, Bri? Why’d you lie to me?”

“I should have told you sooner, I know. The thing was that when we started seeing each other I didn’t think it would last that long,”

“So you really thought I was gonna be a one-night stand?”

“Yeah I did. Maybe a few nights at most. I thought anything more than that would be too complicated with everything else. But then I just kept wanting to see you and...”

“And what?”

He frowned a little as he contemplated what to say, “I am not a brave man, Y/N. I’m a coward. I’ve been afraid of ending things for good with my wife. We should have called it quits years ago, before the kids, but she’s stubborn and I’m weak and I guess I wanted to believe things could be fixed. That maybe kids would help fix them. And then you came along and took me completely by surprise. After we’d been seeing each other for a couple of weeks I knew I should tell you about it all. But I was afraid that as soon as you knew you’d leave and I was too much of a coward to go through with it. So I decided to never tell you. I went home and talked to my wife and we came to a decision to break up but it was hard. There were the kids to think of, one not even born yet. There were assets to split, a house to sell, arrangements to make. Plus, the extra pressure from the press potentially getting a hold of the story. It was a lot and I was in the process of working everything out when you found my ring.”

“I don’t think it’s weak to want to fix things,” you said softly, holding your cup tight, “But you understand why I was so upset right?”

“I know, it was horrible what I did and I regret all of it, not being straight with you. I deserved a lot worse than what you gave me. You should’ve hit me or something.”

“Did you mean what you said about seeing a future with me?”

“I did. I know my life is a mess at the moment but being apart from you has been so hard. I guess I thought things would work out. The divorce would go through and then we could have moved in together and... but that’s not realistic is it?”

“I don’t know Brian. The day I found out I was completely crushed. I never wanted to see you again. I thought if I did it’d just end in more screaming and crying. But I’ve missed you so much. All I’ve thought about since you left was trying to find a solution for it all. I called Jas over to try and talk some sense into me and she told me to give you a chance to explain.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Depends. What’s happening between you and your wife?”

“We had a meeting with our lawyers yesterday, going over the paperwork and stuff. We’ve had to make custody arrangements for when I can see the kids and the house hasn’t sold yet but it’s mostly finalised.”

“If, and it’s a big if, but if we did work things out, how would the custody arrangements work?”

“You wouldn’t have to be their step mum or anything. They’ll mostly be staying with their mum, at least until they’re a little older. But I’ll go round and visit them every week. I wouldn’t ask you to be involved with them at all.”

You nodded, “that makes sense. And there’s no other big earth shattering secrets you’re keeping? No secret family in another country?”

,”No, that’s it,” Brian looked at you, his eyes glued to your face like he ran the risk of losing you again just by blinking.  

You sighed and reached your hand out to lay over his, “I really really missed you.”

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 10

39: “Please, just let me help you.

It’s a moment of relative calm for our babies. Please send me a prompt from this list or this list to fuel the angst and smut

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Part 9] [AO3]

The following day dawned with a clear sky and a cold breeze, and Belle turned her face up to the sun as she walked to the diner where she worked. She felt something approaching relief following her conversation with Gold. There had been so much pain festering away inside her since their break-up, and it was good to let some of that go, to let him understand just how much he had hurt her. After he had left, she had slept well for the first time in weeks, and she felt as though they were at least starting to turn a corner in their relationship. If she could get through the next two months without wanting to kick him in the balls, she would consider it a win.

It was satisfying to be able to give her notice at the diner, and she was fairly certain Ed was just as relieved as she that he wouldn’t have to fire her. She agreed to work the rest of her shifts for the week, and was due to leave on Friday. Jasmine tentatively suggested going out after their final shift together, but Belle shook her head.

“By the time seven p.m. rolls around, I’ll just want to take a shower and fall asleep,” she said, as she wiped down a table. “We could maybe have lunch, though. Are you free on Saturday?”

Jasmine scrunched her nose, shaking her head.

“Can we make it Sunday?” she asked. “Ariel’s supposed to be taking me apartment-hunting. We’ve seen four so far, and all of them had something wrong with them. Why is it so hard to find decent accommodation in this city?”

“Yeah, definitely don’t take anything in my old building,” said Belle, with feeling. “You’re looking for something near the university, right?”

“If we can,” said Jasmine glumly. “No luck so far, but I guess it’s early days. Hopefully we’ll get a place before either one of us graduates.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

She began clearing the next table, and Jasmine helped, stacking dirty glasses on a tray. She eyed Belle curiously, dark eyes gleaming.

“So,” she said delicately. “Your ex is in town. How’s that going?”

Belle shrugged, brushing a coil of hair out of her face.

“Well, he’s stepping up,” she said. “He wants full involvement with the baby. He’s giving me everything I could ask for. Even things I wasn’t going to ask for.”

“So that’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” sighed Belle, leaning on the table for a moment. “Yeah, it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m kind of waiting for the punchline.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” She picked up her tray, pushing away from the table and heading for the kitchen. “It’s hard to trust him, you know? I think he’s serious, I really do, but there’s still a part of me that thinks this whole thing is too good to be true.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“Although he’s coming over later to talk about healthcare options and child support,” added Belle. “So there’s that.”

“Service for table six,” snapped Ed, shoving a plate containing a large burger and fries at her. “You two talk about your personal lives on your own time.”

Jasmine smiled sweetly at him, grabbing another two plates of chicken from the side, and stuck out her tongue as soon as his back was turned. Belle made her way back into the diner, shoving the kitchen door open with one hip as she passed through.

“How are things with you and Ariel, anyway?” she asked, over her shoulder.

“Oh, really good! I mean apart from the not being able to move in together thing.” Jasmine set down her plates and took a breath, eyes scanning the diner before she strode off towards an empty table with yet another pile of dishes. “Her father’s driving her crazy over her study choices, but she’s holding her ground.”

“Yeah.” Belle chewed her lip as she thought about her own father. “Families, huh?”

She pulled a pad from her pocket to take the order of an old man seated by the window, and returned to the kitchen to hand it over and take out another order. It seemed that there was a brief lull, the customers all eating, and so she wiped down the bar before Ed could come out and accuse her of slacking. She knuckled her back as she stood there, a dull pain already starting to develop. Jasmine began stacking glasses, rolling her shoulders tiredly.

“How did you two leave things?” she asked, and Belle pulled a face.

“I - I kind of got a few things off my chest,” she admitted. “Told him exactly how much he’d hurt me. It actually felt - not good, but at least sort of a relief. I think I needed to do it. I think it helped.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing,” said Belle flatly. “He just stared at me with his usual bloody expressionless face like I was reading a bloody shopping list. I mean yeah, he did try to say something at one point before I cut him off, but I was kind of on a roll, and once I was done - nothing. I have no idea whether he was even listening, but if he was, he didn’t react. The guy should play poker for a living.”

She scrubbed at a sticky patch where someone had spilled hot chocolate, frowning.

“Maybe he has difficulty with emotional stuff,” suggested Jasmine.

“What, like every other guy I’ve ever met?” said Belle, in a wry tone. “Spare me.”

Jasmine smirked.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“Yeah, well,” sighed Belle, leaning on the counter. “As I told him last night, I’m pretty much stuck with him for at least the next eighteen years. Probably longer. Eighteen years of parent-teacher nights and Christmas handovers and agreeing on discipline and boundaries.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” said Jasmine. “Eighteen years gives you a good long period to try and get over him.”

Belle shot her a look.

“I am over him!” she insisted.

“Mhmm.”

“I am!”

Jasmine set the last of the glasses on the shelf, and straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Yeah, you know who really shouldn’t play poker professionally?” she said.

She pointed a finger at Belle before sashaying off to the kitchen, and Belle stared after her in outrage.

“I am!” she called.

x

She caught the bus back after work, but it was still seven-thirty when she returned to the apartment, and her body ached from a day of lifting and carrying. The last thing she felt like was another battle of wits with the father of her child, but she took a quick shower to try to lift some of her tiredness. Gold turned up at eight sharp with a large folder under one arm, while she still had her hair wrapped in a towel, and she took a deep breath, determined to be civil. His eyes were looking darker than usual, his face a little drawn.

“Hey,” she said.

“Belle,” he said calmly, and she put her head to the side.

“You okay? You don’t look so good.”

Gold inhaled through his nose, and there was a sudden flash of what looked like bone-deep weariness etched across his face. It was gone almost immediately as he let out the breath he had taken, and he was his usual impassive self.

“I was awake most of the night,” he said.

“Something on your mind?” she asked. His lips twitched.

“I don’t recommend the Arendelle Hotel, for future reference.”

“Well, not like I could ever afford to stay there, but duly noted.” She stepped back to let him in. “Tea?”

“Please.”

He stepped past her, and she closed the door and followed him through to the kitchen. The bright lights were shining on his hair, highlighting the threads of silver that were running through it. She wondered how long he had been cutting it, whether it had been something he had done the moment she left town, the mark of a new chapter in his life. She wondered how his life had changed since she had left, if at all.

He placed the folder he was carrying on the kitchen table, and shrugged out of his heavy coat, pulling off leather gloves and unwinding the scarf from around his neck. The motion released a rush of scent: spicy cologne and his own musk, and she found herself inhaling deeply before she realised what she was doing. The silk shirt beneath his jacket was dark blue, and her breath hitched as she remembered the last time she had seen him wear it. The time he had driven her to his cabin and spent hours making her come. The first time she had told him she loved him. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and his brow creased a little.

“I could make the tea, if you like,” he said, and she started.

“No no, I was just - I was miles away. Let me do it.”

She could feel her cheeks heat as she crossed to the sink, and she kept her back to him as she filled the kettle and got out cups. By the time the tea was brewing, she was able to face him, and Gold had seated himself at the kitchen table with his jacket off, gold sleeve garters pushed up above his elbows as he tapped his fingers on the folder in front of him. Belle carried the tea things to the table, sliding into a chair opposite him.

“Right,” she said. “What did you bring?”

He opened up the folder, taking out a sheaf of documents and pushing it across the table.

“Forms for the medical insurance,” he said. “If you could fill those out today, I’ll arrange everything.”

“Okay.”

He fished out another document.

“I also need your bank account details, for the child support payments.”

“Weren’t we going to have an agreement drawn up?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said patiently. “But I told you I’d start paying you straight away, remember? The agreement will come, as soon as we’ve hammered out all the terms, but in the meantime I don’t want you to have to go on working all hours.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Would you prefer to be paid weekly or monthly?”

“Uh - monthly, I guess.” Belle looked down at the form, eyes running over it and taking nothing in. “Although - I kind of gave my notice at work, so if we could make it weekly for the first month? Things are gonna be pretty tight otherwise.”

“Understood.”

He reached into the folder again.

“The only other thing I have for tonight is this,” he said, and handed over some glossy booklets from upmarket decorators. “I thought you might want to choose some colours for your new home.”

“Right.” Belle couldn’t help smiling as she started leafing through them. “I don’t mind doing the painting, if you get the colours.”

“I could pay someone, it’s not a problem.”

“No,” she said decidedly, looking up and meeting his eyes. “No, I think I want to do it.”

Gold smiled briefly.

“As you wish.”

She returned the smile, and glanced down at the booklet in front of her, running her eyes over the swatches of colour. Perhaps a lavender tone for the nursery.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asked.

Belle looked up again, and he picked up the teapot and began pouring for both of them.

“Well, I have class in the morning,” she said. “I have a medical appointment at two.”

“And after that?”

She shrugged.

“No more class. I guess I’ll come back here and get some study done. Why?”

Gold put down the teapot, glancing at her.

“Well, I was going to suggest that I take you shopping.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said hastily. “I could get Emma to drive me. I mean, if you’re busy—”

“I’m not,” he interrupted. “We’re already meeting to go to see the doctor, so why don’t we kill two birds with one stone and take a look at nursery furniture afterwards?”

Belle chewed at her lip, and he spread his hands.

“If you’ve picked out colours, we could even get the paint,” he added.

“I’ll need brushes and everything.”

“We can get those too.”

Belle sent him a wry look.

“And you’re ready for this minimalist paradise to be turned into a riot of colour, are you?”

“My house is pink,” he said bluntly.

She giggled at that, surprising herself, and his eyes twinkled for a moment, but then he sat up, threading his fingers together as he met her eyes.

“It’s only a shopping trip, Belle,” he said quietly. “You’ve been dealing with more than enough on your own already. Please, just let me help you.”

Belle took a breath, and nodded.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Good.”

He pushed a cup of tea towards her, and Belle added a little milk and stirred. Gold sat back, watching her over the rim of his cup.

“I saw your father while I was in Storybrooke, by the way,” he said. “I thought I should tell him face to face that I intended to support you and the baby.”

Belle put down her cup, her good mood stealing away again.

“Yeah, I gathered you’d spoken to him,” she said, her tone flat. “Before I called you about the test results, right?”

“What?” He looked puzzled. “No, after. It was actually the call from you that made me think perhaps I ought to speak to him. I - I had no idea he’d cut you off.”

Oh. Well.

“Did you give him this address?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “He told me he’d hear it from you, not me.”

“Right.” She wanted to shrink in her chair a little. “Well, I’ve not heard from him in five months, so I guess he’s not too concerned about my living arrangements.”

“It seems not,” said Gold, in a cold voice. “I did let him know exactly what I thought of that, but I have a feeling it may have had the opposite effect to the one I intended.”

Belle shrugged uncomfortably.

“I doubt it would make much difference either way,” she said. “He told me from the start I should get rid of the baby.”

“Did he now?” Gold’s voice was ominously flat. “Well. Luckily for me, you didn’t agree.”

“Of course not.”

She hung her head a little, still hurt by her father’s rejection, and there was a moment of silence.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he said quietly, and Belle raised her head.

“No, it’s - it’s not your fault,” she said, and his mouth quirked.

“Well, that makes a change.”

She returned the tiny smile, although her lip wobbled a little.

“Try to keep it up,” she said decidedly, and his smile grew.

“I’ll do my best.”

More silence, but it was a little more comfortable. Belle sipped at her tea before setting down her cup and getting a pen to fill out the forms he had given her. Gold sat in silence as she did it, refilling their cups as soon as they were emptied.

“What happens at this appointment tomorrow?” he asked, and she glanced up.

“Oh, nothing major. I get weighed and measured and my blood pressure taken, that kind of thing. It’s probably not very interesting.”

“I still want to go with you,” he said. “I’d like to go to all of them.“

He hesitated, fingers stroking the cup, and his eyes met hers as he seemed to choose his words carefully.

"What are your feelings on me attending the birth?” he asked.

Belle sat back, surprised by his uncertainty.

“Oh,” she said. “I - I guess I just assumed you would. Is that right? Do you not want to?”

“No no, I want to,” he said. “I just wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

She reached for her cup again, cradling it in her hands.

“Well, like I said, it’s your baby too,” she said. That brief smile again.

“Thank you.”

“Plus it means I get to scream and swear at you for hours,” she added. “Probably better than a therapy session.”

Gold’s smile grew.

“Did you say there was an ultrasound?” he asked.

“Oh. Yeah, let me get it.”

She pushed to her feet, going through to the bedroom to take out the envelope she had placed in her nightstand. When she returned to the kitchen, Gold was sitting upright with his elbows on the table and his fingertips tapping together, nervous energy coming off him in waves. She reached into the envelope, pulling out one of the pictures there and handing it over.

“They said I wouldn’t need another one unless anything out of the ordinary happened,” she said. “It’s healthy, no worries there, they said. Everything where it should be.”

Gold had gone very still. He was staring at the photograph she had given him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“It was - kind of weird, seeing the baby for the first time,” she added. “It made it real, you know?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, it’s real.”

His fingers were shaking a little, clutching the edges of the photograph, and she put her head to the side, curiosity building in her. What was he thinking? Was he as overwhelmed as she had been on first seeing the picture of their child? She couldn’t blame him, if so, but she hadn’t expected it.

“You can keep that one,” she said, reaching for her tea again. “They gave me two.”

He glanced up at her, and there was an expression in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Softness, and something that was almost vulnerable. His lower lip trembled a little, but he smiled.

“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

[c-atm]

Bittersweet meetings pt6

*November 7th..Night of Connie's birthday.*

Steven slightly turned the knob of the burgandy door at the back of the house; stepping into the kitchen of the Maheswaran household as he did many times. In his hand a small cobalt blue box with a gold ribbon, a gift for his closest friend on her birthday.

The kitchen itself was empty for the moment, but in the living room he saw some people not much. Most were already engaging in conversation near a wall or on the couch playing the gaming system. Though Steven could hear the music blaring from underneath them; the basement. He looked  to the southern wall, saw the table where the gifts were being held and decided against adding his. He look towards the stairs and smirked as a plan formed in his mind.

He took to the stairs greeting people as he did and climbed up to the second floor. He walked to the second door on the left and entered unnoticed. A third of the room glowed in a natural light from outside; including Connie's bed and desk. He's been in this room many times before, but this time he felt different. There was a swell in his chest.  

“it's been a few weeks since I've been in here. Still as orderly as ever.. and still smell of jasmine.” Steven let off a chuckle before taking notice of a slightly old picture of the two on her desk. the picture was taken during one of their group excursions, a karaoke bar. Steven and Connie was performing, mic in one hand and the other connecting them.  He couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked in that pic, despite it being mid ‘belt out’ of ‘Partners in Crime’

‘But she always do...ok enough fawning over her. I'm here for a reason.’ He scolding thought before turning to the bed he gently laid the present on the blue pillow on the bed with a card next to it. Happy with his work, the teen  left the room discreetly. as he was walking away from the room he felt two strong, feminine arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders and a very womanly form pressed behind him. He froze, feeling the person breath in his ear.

“Oh my. you've grown haven't you, Lil Stevie?”

His eyes widen at the sultry, accusatory voice before turning around and looking down at a 20 year old beauty, who was smirking at him. They had lighter mocha skin than Connie, slightly smaller nose as well. They shared the same hair color and length, though there was a streak of pink in it. They also shared the same black pools for eyes as Connie.  He hugged the ;person and gave them a twirl.

“Stevonnie! Oh my gosh, when did you get in? How’s college? ”

The surprised person laughed a bit at his antics before tapping his shoulders. “ A week ago and it’s good, it's good. Hey, can you put me down big guy, you'll mess up the outfit.”

“Oops, Sorry.” He placed them down and stepped back at his older friend and alumni. “You’re looking great. You must be beating people away with a stick on campus.”

“Well yeah, that because I don't have my little protector...Though you’re not so little anymore.”

He watched them straighten out their skirt of their burgundy hoodie dress before shooting him a look. Stevonnie walked around Steven looking him over as they did, causing Steven to feel self-conscious as they poked and gripped his arms approvingly.

“What?” Steven watched them as Stevonnie stopped and whistled, hand on their cheek.

“Where all this man come from, you didn’t have all this when I saw you last”

“That was nearly a year ago, I did, and you still saw me as you ‘kid-brother’.”

“Then maybe i’m blind. Sheesh, you all growing up and becoming attractive young adults.”

“Your only what, two to three years older than us.”

“Where's the twelve-year-old who gave me and Connie chocolate every time he visited?”

“Oh god, you still remember those days?”Steven scoffed with an embarrassing smirk at Stevonnie's jest.

“How I'm supposed to forget my first confession; you were such a dapper little tween with your tuxedo and pompadour."

“Stop. Please stop mentioning my old crush.” Steven flushed red as stevonnie giggle at his protest as they ruffled his head fondly.

“You've really had grown since I've been gone, kind of sad really.  If I knew my cute admirer would have such an upgrade, I would've accepted your proposal."

"Well too late, you sibling-zoned me. So you get to admire me from afar." Stevonnie rolled their eyes at his playful boast.

"Sure,sure probably for the best; last thing I want is to wake up to a rabid Connie...Speaking of, what are you doing up here?"

Steven looked at them sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. "Just came from the bathroom."

Stevonnie arched an eyebrow and gave an accusatory smile as they folded their arms under their breast. "There's one downstairs where the party at and I just came out of the one up here, try again sweetie."

"Uhhh..Psssh..got lost."

"Really in your ‘home away from home’ Steven...Now tell me, Why did I see you come out of my little sister's room?"

Their authoritative voice froze the boy into submission. it sounded just like their mother and sister, same effectiveness too.

"I was just dropping of my gift, didn't want it to get lost in the chaos that is the gift table. That’s all.”

Stevonnie gave him a quick side eye glance before adopting a mischievous grin. “Sooo….What you got herrr?”

Steven shook his head and pulled his index and thumb across his lips. “Lips are sealed, Vonnie.”

“Oooo, it must be something good if you can’t share it with me. Which makes me \want to know even more.”

“I bet, but I ain’t saying anything...It’s a personal gift from me to her. That’s all”

Stevonnie lifted their arms in surrender at the serious tone of Steven.” No problem, far be it for me to pry in your two relationship...can I ask one thing though.”

Steven nodded towards his friend, who looked at him with a bit of sympathy.

"Is everything ok with you and her?"

Steven gave a faux smirk before shrugging his shoulders. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You’re dropping off your gift.”

Stevonnie watched as a Steven nostrils flared ever so slightly and his persona was a bit more somber.

“Nothing is wrong. Me and Connie are alright.”

Stevonnie squinted their eyes in a small glare, hands on their hips. “Uh-huh...So are you going to stay then?”

“For a bit.”

“Glad to hear it and since that is settled, how about we go downstairs to the party, huh?“

“Wait a minute, Vonnie” Steven started to protest as stevonnie latched their arm around his.

“Nope, you’re my date for the moment and as such I want a dance. Maybe it’ll help you with that disposition of yours, yeah?”

Steven knew he couldn’t argue with as they dragged him down the stairs and smiled a slightly mischievous smile at him. Steven bit back a groan as Stevonnie sighed with mock melancholy.

“You know how to make a person feel wanted, Steven. Here I am dressed in one of my best, hanging on your arms, begging for your company and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“Stevonnie, come on..Just not in the mood for a party..that’s all.”

Stevonnie groaned as she led him to the kitchen away from everyone and pointed to a chair near it’s island. Steven sat, looking a mixture of bored and annoyed as Stevonnie sat across from him. Stevonnie glared deeply into his eyes before speaking.

“Does this have to do with the guy hanging around Connie lately?”

Steven tensed for a quick moment, tightening his fist  before answering. “I...don’t know what you mean?

“The guy who introduced himself as Connie ‘boyfriend’.”

Steven eyes widened at that before standing up, lip in a tight frown.“Really, is that so?”

Stevonnie guided him back to his seat, holding his fist in a calming way. “Geez, relax lil’ Stevie, It’s ok.”

Steven breathed deeply but his demeanor didn’t change. “I’m fine..She can date whoever she wants. No skin off my back.”

Stevonnie giggled at his claim before answering. “Uh huh..Is that why you look like you’re ready to cause WW3 though 5.”

Steven blushed embarrassingly and bit the inside of his cheek. Stevonnie shook their head at the surprising stubbornness of the otherwise easy going lad. “It’s ok to be jealous, Steven.”

Steven scoffed with a mirthless laugh. “I’m not jealous...just feel some sort a way. mean..I wasn’t even aware that she did or would want decide to date anyone. Then she got with some no name while I was out sick and it was one of our close friends  that set up the meeting and i’m the last one to find out.

Stevonnie nodded in agreement but before she could open her mouth, the door leading to the back yard open revealing  Priyanka and Doug Maheswaran holding two string handled bags and a decorative cake respectively. The two on the island rushed to assist the couple, Steven helping Doug with the cake placement on the island, and Stevonnie taking the surprising heavy bags from their mother upstairs. Priyanka shaked and flexed her fingers and hands in relief before taking Stevonnies’ seat as Doug went and got his wife something hot to drink before giving the boy a small, motherly smile.

“Thank you for the assistance Steven.”

Steven waved the gratitude off .“Anytime Dr.Priya, you seem a bit tired though.”

”Priyanka nodded in agreement “Been up since early this morning getting all this together.”

Steven watched as she took the cup of dijong tea from her husband, giving him a tender kiss and a bright smile..It reminded him of Connie’s.

“how are you doing this evening Steven?”

Steven shook his head and blushed in embarrassment after being caught daydreaming. “I’m sorry, what did you say.”

Priyanka and Doug shared a quick glance before Priyanka spoke. “ How are you this evening, everything ok, Sweetie?”

Steven nodded his head and smiled at appreciatively at Priyanka. “Sorry yeah I’m ok..Just in my thoughts a bit.”

Doug smirked as he sat next to Priyanka and casually massaging her left hand.

“Well, we’re glad you found time to celebrate with us,Steven. For a minute, we thought you wasn’t going to show.”

Steven gave a slightly strained chuckle. “Yeah, I really can’t stay long though..Just long enough to drop off my present.”

“Oh and where exactly is the present,young man?”

Just a Steven was about to answer, a voice beat him to it.

“He sneaked into Connie’s room and left it on her pillow..he was very delicate as well.”

While Steven turned to see Stevonnie walk in, smirking at the now red faced teen; the Maheswaren shared a secret smirk between each other. Priyanka cleared her throat gaining the attention of the two..

“Steven that’s quite charming, though it begs the question...What did you get her?”

“Nothing, just a PMP she had her eye on for awhile and some other things.”

“Other things, hmm?”

“What other things, Son?”

Steven groaned at Doug and Stevonnie teasing; causing Priyanka to snicker before assisting the teen.

"Ok you two, leave the poor boy alone."

With a chuckle and scoff the daddy-child duo eased off Steven, who gave an appreciative nod towards the house matriarch.  

"Gifts aside, I hope your sporadic appearances will become more frequent like it before. It's been a little off without your visits."

"You know, my parents said the same thing about Connie..."

Doug nodded with a smirk. “It has been a while since you stopped by..thought you abandon us, son.”

Steven gave a mocked scoff. “Nothing of the sort, Mensiour Doug..Just been busy, school, clubs and stuff.”

"He doesn't like Connie's new guy very much."

Steven eyes widen at the older person exasperatedly as Stevonnie took a seat at the other end of the island. "Really Stevonnie."

"Am I wrong?"

"Can't dislike someone I have never met…Can I ask, what is your opinion of him,Good guy?"

Stevonnie sighed. " He's a nice kid, but the 'relationship' seems kind of jokey."

Priyanka looked at her eldest with a slight disdain "Rude".

Stevonnie shrugged "But true. What you think Dad?"

Doug hummed with his eyes close before  giving an answer. "Seems like a good guy, but I am in agreement about their relationship seeming kind of  rehearsed."

Priyanka shook her head at her child and husband before turning to Steven, who was looking expectantly. "He's a nice guy, Steven."

Steven sighed. "That's good and Connie is happy."

"She seems to be,There's no big change in her demeanor. "

"Seems to be?"  

The Maheswarans heard the irritation in his question.

"There seems to be a strictly platonic tone when she talked about jim. " Stevonnie chimed in causing Priyanka to begrudgingly nod in agreement.

"His name's Jeff, 'vonnie."

"For real?" Stevonnie flushed in embarrassment as both her parents and Steven nodded. "Don't that be all."

Steven shook his head at Stevonnie a small smile on his face when he felt Priyanka squeezed the teen shoulder gently before speaking. "Steven, she never told you about him?".

Steven shook his head again as Priyanka took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Don't let it get to you, Steven."

Steven shrugged "I'm not...Just felt like she ghosted me. Wouldn't she want her Biscuit  to meet her boyfriend?"

Priyanka couldn't help feeling bad for the boy she saw as a son, but also feel a little giddy at the apparent jealousy.  "Which is why you don't have to worry... Now, while I hate to come off as criticizing, if she has not introduced you to him, it may be a casual thing and not anything important. Which is believable, when you compare their interactions to yours, which are MUCH more intimate in nature."

Steven allowed a small smile on his face.It wasn't  the first time he heard someone state, one way or another, that Connie and him seemed like a romantic couple. It got to the point that they would jokingly flirt with each other; calling each other silly pet name like 'Hubby and Wifey' and over-exaggerate seeing each other.

Though there were times when the flirting was very sincere and full of affection. Times when they referred to each other as ‘Biscuit’ and ‘Berry’. Times when they unwittingly found each other hand during their outings. Their joy rides on 'lion', where despite having a passenger sidecar,she always opted to sit behind him; her reasons being she feels more secure holding him and it’s comfy. Times when they watched a movie together and would end up cozying up together, one head on the others chest while the other held them close enjoying the warmth. didn’t matter if they were with their group or not.

“Looking kind of relieved there ,Stevie.”

Stevonnie teasing voice caused the teen looked up at the family who each member held a knowing grin.

"I have nothing to be relieved about...That being said I'm going to wish the birthday girl a happy birthday before I head home. He gave them an appreciative smile before he got up and walked out of the kitchen and toward the basement stairs. The music was loud even before he opened the familiar green door and for a quick moment blared as he opened and closed it.  As he walked down the stairs the high paced rock music changed into a fusion of slow r&b and pop.

He opened the door darkened by the stairwell and entered the basement that resembled a small party hall; more than enough room for the 20+ people that currently resided in it. The basement was dimly lit with multicolored strobe lights, but not so much that it tempted unwanted attention. He could see everything clearly; from the mini kitchen on the far east complete with fridge,sink and refreshments. The DJ booth at the back with a good friend of theirs, Sour Cream, manning the one and twos.

He spotted some people from school as well as some from around the neighborhood. It was a sea of dancing and conversing `seventeen thru nineteen year olds...With a few twenty-one year olds they knew playing chaperone. All in all looked like it was a good time. He walked his way through the crowd saying his greeting to all who happened to spot him, giving the smallest of talks when he needed as he tried to find his berry, only to stop as his lungs got caught up in his throat as he saw her.

Forest green crop top sweater zipped down with a light green collarless shirt underneath, a pair of black Jean's that gently hugged her hips yet were baggy legged and a pair of small heeled copper boots. Her dark brown hair was in neat ponytail that stopped right at the center of her back. She had on the smallest amount of her signature lip gloss giving a slight but noticeable gleam to her lips and no other makeup

"Not that it's needed." Steven couldn't help his stare and the feelings within as he drank in the newly minted 17 year-old form. Her ever confident stance and gentle smiled as she conversed with the rest of their friends. The way her clothes showed off her figure respectfully and the gloss. Not the first time he saw her wear it and yet it made her more adorable. Yet he couldn't take a step towards her.

He was nervous. He was nervous to speak to Connie, something he hasn't been since the first time he met her. ‘The hell are you doing, Universe? It's Just Connie. Your bud, friend, confidant. Your Berry..The hell are you afraid of.' Steven breathed deeply trying to silence pounding heart. With clenched fists and determination he took a step towards her and their friends..

Only to see another slightly taller guy with a matching color scheme stand beside her. Very lightly tan skin, slim build, slightly messy brown hair, brown eyes. He had a small smile as he took her hand and introduced himself to the group .Steven watched as Connie was lead deeper into the crowd, seemingly not minding the hand on the small of her back.

Despite having a quite a few people between them, Steven felt he was right there with her. Her scent of jasmine and chai found his nose easily. Her unique giggle vibrated in his ear despite the music of ‘Tee lopes Yourniverse’ playing at a thundering level. His eves couldn’t leave his berry as she danced. The lightness of her steps, the small rotative movements of her arms, the sway of her hips and waist. It was all intoxicating, melodic and hypnotizing respectively.

He watched her date grabbed her hand and danced in away that was complementary to her own and despite being a visible distance away from each other, sans their hands, Steven couldn't  help the heat in his chest and the small growl in his throat. As he was about to step towards them, he felt someone whispered gently and coolly in his ear from behind.

"Aren't you gonna wish her happy birthday?"

Steven turned in surprise as he came face to face with shining deep blue eyes looking up at him; familiar ocean blue hair was in a stylized bang-bob combo, and a slightly freckled face that held a sly yet sad smile.He found himself blushing under the gaze of one Lapis Oceana lazuli.

[breathofthedice]

When the Dust Settles

Suyin Beifong doesn’t really have nightmares. It’s not that she’s never had them, or that one doesn’t crop up every now and again, but it just isn’t something she’s ever had to deal with on a regular basis. The fact that her days are packed full and usually leave her feeling drained, albeit in a good way, probably helps with that, and so it’s a complete and total shock to her when she wakes up with her heart in her throat, Lin’s name on her lips in the echoes of a terrified scream.

Suyin stares unseeingly into the dark, her pulse thundering in her ears, and it takes a moment for the vestiges of sleep to slip away and the threads of reality to disentangle from her dreams. Bare feet immediately hit the floor, shockwaves running up her legs as she searches for her sister, but even when she senses Lin asleep in her room it doesn’t calm the frantic racing of her heart. She needs to really see her, needs to know that Lin is there, alive and well.

That when Suyin wrapped her armor around P’Li’s head, it wasn’t too late to save Lin.

She’s not really thinking when she opens Lin’s door, solely focusing on her sister’s wellbeing, and it’s only Suyin’s highly honed reflexes that enable her to duck under the metal cable that whips towards her face. Lin is sitting up in bed, hand outstretched, but when she sees Suyin she huffs a breath through her nose and lets it drop. “Su,” she grumbles, rubbing her face, “what the hell are you doing barging into my room?? You’re lucky I didn’t take your head off.”

Suyin doesn’t respond, almost lightheaded with relief as she stares at Lin, and Lin’s brow creases for a moment before softening in comprehension. She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and stands, half-reaching for the armor draped over the back of the nearby desk chair before seeming to think better of it. “Let’s get some tea,” Lin murmurs, moving closer to Suyin and lightly settling a hand on her back, “come on.”

Nobody would ever know it by looking at her, but Lin makes one of the best cups of jasmine tea that Suyin has ever had, and so she doesn’t protest and allows her sister to lead her to the kitchen. They don’t talk as Lin switches the stove on and heats the kettle, and it’s only when they’re sitting across from each other that Lin says, “You’ve never been in a fight like that before, have you?”

“Not until the Red Lotus showed up, no.” Suyin takes a long sip of her tea, trying to let the heat that spreads through her bones soothe her. “I’ve been in my fair share of scrapes and bar fights, but…nothing like that.”

“You get used to it.” Lin wraps her hands around her own tea. “The memories fade after a while. Soon they’ll just be old ghosts.”

Suyin resists the urge to ask how many ghosts Lin has. She doesn’t want to have that conversation right now. “Did you ever dream about…..what-ifs?”

Lin sighs. “I used to. Now….it’s mostly ‘should have’. Should have been faster, should have been better…..should have gone left instead of right. It’s like a broken record in my head.”

Suyin’s fingers tremble as her throat tightens. “I….I almost wasn’t fast enough today. If I had been one second later with P’Li—”

“Don’t.” Lin’s hand wraps around Suyin’s forearm, and she shakes her head. “Don’t do that. You’ll drive yourself insane. You were fast enough, and you saved me. I’m right here.”

Suyin covers Lin’s hand with her own, and she closes her eyes, focusing on Lin’s heartbeat vibrating through the floor beneath her feet. “I know,” she murmurs finally, her breath leaving her in a heavy rush, “I know. But…..it’s difficult.”

“Is that….all that’s bothering you?” Link asks after a moment. She sounds hesitant, like she’s afraid of Suyin’s answer. “About P’Li?”

Suyin opens her eyes, brow furrowing in confusion. “Yes,” she says, “why else would I be upset?”

“I thought….” Lin withdraws her hand, leaning back in her chair. “P’Li……you didn’t just….stop her. She…….”

“I see.” Suyin exhales. “You think I’m upset because I killed her.”

“I didn’t—I just thought maybe—you’re not used to—”

“I’m not, Lin. I don’t regret what happened.” It’s a violent, terrible death, and Suyin wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but she’s not sorry. “She was a threat to the world, and to Korra, and to my family. Killing her was the only way to stop her. I am sorry that it came to that, but I would do it again if I had to.”

“Oh.” Lin looks down at her tea, avoiding Suyin’s eyes, and Suyin feels herself tense.

“Does that bother you?” she asks, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. Lin looks up again, quickly shaking her head.

“No, no, of course not. I just…..you’ve never killed anyone before, so I expected…” Lin trails off, and Suyin doesn’t feel the need to follow up on that particular thread, so she just takes another sip of tea and says nothing. She could jab at Lin if she wanted to, about Lin expecting anything of Suyin when Lin avoided her for thirty years, but she doesn’t want to.

She’s tired of fighting.

“I love you too,” Suyin says abruptly, putting her teacup down and reaching out to take Lin’s hand. “I should have told you when you said it, but….I didn’t. I was afraid of losing you, and if I said it…..it would have hurt too much.”

“Oh.” Lin clears her throat, and it��s easy to see that she’s uncomfortable but she doesn’t withdraw her hand. “That’s, um, that’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sure you’ll have to go back to Republic City with Korra, but after the dust has settled, I’d love it if you stayed here for a few weeks. Opal and the boys would be thrilled to have you around.” Suyin smiles. “And I know Wing and Wei would leap at the chance to spar with you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lin says after a moment, which is as good as Suyin knows she’ll get right now. “It depends on Korra. If she stays in Republic City, I’ll need to be there to protect her.”

“She’s lucky to have you watching over her. They all are.” Lin never wanted kids, which is why she and Tenzin broke up, but Suyin wonders if Lin has realized that she’s unwittingly adopted four teenagers. “You’re a damn fine chief of police, Lin. Mom would be so proud of you.”

Lin drains the rest of her tea and stands up. “Not that this isn’t fun, but I’m going back to bed,” she grumbles. Suyin allows herself a quiet chuckle but doesn’t protest. Lin has never been one for what she deems ‘touchy-feely bullshit’. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.” Suyin reaches out to take Lin’s hand and squeeze it before letting go. “I love you, Lin.”

Lin smiles, a softer expression than Suyin has seen on her in decades. “I love you too, Su. And every time you’re covering my ass, I know you’re going to save it. That’s what family is for, right?”

In spite of everything, of the fear that still hasn’t fully left and Korra’s injuries and the massive undertaking Suyin knows is coming to rebuild the Earth Kingdom, she finds herself smiling back. “Yes,” she agrees. “Yes, it is.”

[ortegatrash]

A Thousand Paper Stars

ARAN SUEN - SUEN WANFAA 孙芸花 [Cautious | anonymous | underworld contacts | tactician | mob boss] Nonbinary, she/her. Puppetmaster scar, fate motivation. Alcohol vice.

Pre-Sidestep/Ortega/Steel. Mentions of minor character death.

A thousand paper stars Wishes in the night A little girl sits on the doorstep and wipes away her tears.

Kept within a jar A collection of lost hopes And dreams for a future that never came to pass.

I wish for prosperity, I wish for love And the freedom to make my own way in life.

But now I collect only scars And I don't know how long I can go Before I break.

---

Sarah Wu is the first person who ever really finds you, the prettiest silk black hair and dark eyes that curled up at the edges ever so sweetly when she laughed. She smiles at your attempts to use chopsticks, demonstrates for you patiently and teases you about forgetting your heritage.

"I don't know my heritage," you tell her, because it's true. You were distilled from a giant bottle, as manufactured as the 'Made in China' label would suggest. "I...never knew my parents."

You are only a pretender despite what your shared skin and supposed common homeland say. Sometimes you feel a bit like a changeling and you only wear the glamour of human skin stretched over an unearthly skeleton. Sent to infiltrate the world of humanity.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I guess we'll just have to fix that, won't we? Were you adopted? I have friends who were adopted as babies and they've ended up in similar situations, I can show you stuff if you like!" She looks entirely too giddy about being able to teach you a culture that isn't truly yours to have.

The curl of warmth that arises in your gut at her face is something entirely new.

She hands you a small strip of patterned paper. "Write a wish," she tells you. "And then we can make it into a little paper star."

Bewildered, you just stare blankly. "Whatever for?"

She blinks owlishly before tilting her head and shrugging. "Well, why not?"

Why not.

Why not indeed. You'd never really considered doing things for the sake of doing things - everything had to have a role, a purpose before. If something could no longer serve a purpose, it was thrown out.

What are you supposed to say to her when she says something like that?

When she looks at you like...like you have value. Even though you can do nothing for her, even though you've been nothing but a burden.

You stare down at the scrap of paper for a long, long time, the paper staring irritatingly back up at you.

It never occurred to you that you could want. Could be allowed to wish for things.

You're not sure what you want.

"Besides, you can unwrap them later and see your old messages again. They're supposed to bring good luck, you know!"

Luck? Luck was a term for the superstitions people ascribed to random chance and probability, trying to see patterns in the chaos. There was nothing lucky about this task.

But she's smiling at you.

"Aran? Have you got any ideas yet?" she smiles at you.

"I'm sorry," you apologise, you hadn't meant to let her down on such a simple task. "I'm not sure I know what to wish for. Can't you just tell me what to write?"

She pauses and for a moment you freeze in fear, is she going to punish you for failing her? But Sarah simply smiles kindly at you. "No, Aran, that's not the point," her voice is gentle and it stings all the more for how you feel you've disappointed her. "It has to come from the heart. From you. It defeats the purpose if you just get someone to tell you what to do."

"I'm sorry." Your voice is barely higher than a whisper.

"No, no, you don't need to be. It's fine, you can fill it in at any time later if you want." And Sarah, lovely understanding Sarah reaches over to lift your head up. "Tell you what. I'll write my own one for you and let you hold onto to that one until the day you figure out what to write. Then I can grant you all the luck from my wish!"

She looks so pleased with herself that you haven't got the heart to say no. You peer down at her calligraphy, the Chinese characters as neat and pretty as she is. "What does it say?" You've been learning from her but it's still difficult for you.

The conspiratorial finger to her lips makes you unwittingly return her smile. "You'll just have to learn to find out, won't you?"

"You're such a tease."

"You like it, though."

"...Maybe."

---

The colours are faded now, the corners worn.

Sarah's star has been a constant through all the things you've been through and now…

Now it's been drenched, old ink starting to blot through. Soon it will nothing but a sad mushy pile of paper.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to lose the last thing you have of Sarah, her sweet kisses and tender voice disappearing like leaves on the wind.

Maybe why that's you carefully unwrap the soggy remains of the paper star. You want to catch her final message to you, years in the sending.

Her handwriting hits you like a dagger to the heart - you'd forgotten she drew hearts over her 'i's when she was feeling whimsical, before her cheeky English letters neatly transition into pretty little chinese characters. Forgotten the way the lines curled and danced, playful to the end.

Dear star,

I wish for Aran to bloom into herself, like a shrinking violet into an elegant rose! I wish for her to have friends. I wish for us to have many more happy moments together and I wish for her to be happy when I'm gone.

...She knew.

You stare at the dissolving remains.

Something so precious.

Gone so easily, so carelessly, so quickly. Just like her.

Something inside you breaks and you let out a quiet sob, dropping to your knees. It's not like you to be this emotional but you'd always known that eventually the dam would break. You hadn't expected the last blow to come like this.

It hurts so much to know you've disappointed her. None of her wishes have come true. It figures that you would even keep disappointing her after her death.

---

Chen's cold face hits you like a slap whenever you look at him. He could have been her brother and you can't help but resent the way you gaze at him and feel the sting of her loss. It pains you to look into those dark eyes that are filled with nothing but suspicion where you keep helplessly searching for the warm adoration that never comes.

It really doesn't help.

If you keep seeing her distorted memory in Chen's face, it's in Ricardo you truly see her soul reflected in. In the way he teases and loves so freely and looks at you with such warm smiles.

It's not the same. She deserves better than this and Ricardo deserves better than to be your rebound, to be used as your second choice because you're in too much grief after her loss. He wants more, you know that...but you just can't. Not when the memory of her touch still haunts your dreams, even as you begin to forget her face. When those sweet smiles turn into tight frowns and dark eyes start to look at you with such wariness that you want to just break down and scream. Scream at Chen for existing, scream at Ricardo for smiling at you with the wrong face and scream at the world for taking the woman you loved away.

And then your world falls apart once more, And this time you have no photos left to remember anything with.

---

You will never forgive the world for taking away even the last remnants of her existence, the photos you used to touch so delicately and try to recommit her face into mind with. The glass teapot she gave you as a housewarming gift and the bundles of herbal tea she gave you along with it all. So many afternoons on the front porch drinking rosebud tea and munching on prawn crackers together as she giggled over your terrible pronunciation and offered to give you a practical demonstration in where to put your tongue.

It's her you should thank for your fluent Cantonese that gets you connections to the triads, helps plant the seeds of your little criminal organisation into sprouting into something bigger than you could have ever imagined. Perhaps it was fate that you met her - that everything in your life was all just the set up for this. You are no longer as hopeful and foolish enough to think you can really escape your destiny anymore, that you could ever have been a real hero.

As inevitable as gravity.

It's almost laughable how everyone thinks you're just the demure little wife of some bigger fish as you pour them cups of jasmine tea and smile sweetly at them. If they're going to stereotype you as some spineless submissive housewife you might as well play up to their expectations. No one really pays attention to you as you seat yourself with your legs underneath you out of the way, a pleasant little host to the end.

And truly, what an end it is as they die suffocation on the clear powder you slipped into their tea. As you quietly ring the little bell you have to signal your gang to dispose of the trash and ask how their day has been.

It's all just business. But that doesn't mean you have to be rude.

---

These days you're too tired to be angry. Even Chen's attempts to get to you don't work anymore - you are above that now. Calm. Collected. Untouchable.

It makes Ortega sad to see. "You never smile anymore," he says, softly.

"There's been little to smile about lately." But you give him a small, sad smile anyway because even he hasn't escaped unscathed by the long years. The distance between you has given you perspective - you can finally see him as he is without the weight of comparison standing on his shoulders. See the way he looks at you like you're the ghost now, and isn't that such a strange turnaround?

Sarah is gone, but you are still here. You are still here drinking tea with Ortega, and if you pour something a little harder than just plain tea into your cup, that's hardly any reason for him to judge you. Especially considering the way he's been drinking as well.

Looking at the way those lips smile down at you does strange things to your stomach, even as you feel guilty for betraying her memory.  You didn't...you didn't think you would ever love again, not after her. And...and you really thought you were getting better at this, that you weren't just comparing Chen and Ortega to a woman they could never be.

So why.

Why do you still want Ortega to kiss you with those cheeky lips?

Why do you want Chen to look at you with those dark eyes with soft affection and not wary suspicion?

It would never work out. It would never work out and you know it all too well. Having emotions and desires is so very hard to deal with when they get in the way like this, if they could have trained that completely out of you life would have been much easier. But no. You just had to start caring. It's all so messy and frustrating and you absolutely resent yourself for it.

Do you even like men, or is this all just the fading remnants of the only things that remind you of her? Are these just expectations they pushed on you for being what they assumed was female?  Do they...do they even respect the fact that you're not quite fully a woman, despite how you tend to look? You couldn't stand it if they would just put you into some mental picture of the demure 1950s housewife you use as an act. Because that's just it. Another act, another role to take on when convenient and useful for your purposes.

You tend to be discreet with your androgynous looks, but Ortega at least knows your relationship with gender tends to be a bit...loose. You're not really sure what Chen thinks - perhaps that you like to dress up as a tomboy at times.

You just shake your head and pour tea for them both. And if Chen quietly gives you a little nod of acknowledgement in thanks, and if Ortega smiles at you like he's simply happy to be in your presence…

Well. You'll take your little joys where you can get them.

[azulamakesmeblank]

Gift: part 2 (Kataang) *EDITED

Part 1 if you haven’t read it yet

_____________________________________

Katara is 20 and Aang is 18 - all adults here, consenting relationships and all that good stuff! I posted this a few years ago and reading it now at the ripe old age of 22?? Yeah… defo needed to update Aang’s age from 17 to 18! That’s all from me!_____________________________________

Warnings: steamy-ish. No detail. Just a lot of like I don't even know, not dirty talk, but close to it??????? oh, god knows what I’ve written

Ya know... I am forever setting out to write one thing but end up writing another thing

like

lads. I got way way way too carried away here

Uhm... I guess this is it. I’m basically forcing myself to post this now because if I try to change anything again, it'll never ever be posted

Anyways, enjoy!

____________________________________________

The gang had been up and awake for some time now with wrapping paper covering the floor of the Jasmin Dragon and joyous laughter filling the air. However, it didn’t take long for them to notice the absence of a certain water bender.

Aang had noticed about five minutes after he sat down with his cup of tea. Though he decided not drawing attention to the situation would be better in the long run. After all, he may be the cause of her late coming: last night he had snuck into her room and set the present by her bedside, with careful moves as not to wake her, ensuring the intimate gift wouldn’t be placed among the pile with everyone else's to consequently, and regrettably, be opened in front of her brother. That would have been one awkward Christmas morning. And it would have most definitely marked the end of Aang’s life.

The young man gulped, knee bouncing anxiously as he thought up possible reasons as to why she hadn’t come out of her room yet. Maybe she still hasn't opened it... but if she has, did she not like it? Did she hate it? Was she disgusted that he had bought her such a thing? Was she disgusted by him?! was she going to-

His racing thoughts were enough to drive him up and out of his chair with a rough screech and turn in a panic to make his way to her room right away. This, he definitely wanted to do, but the eerie silence stopped him. Something was wrong...

It took him long enough to realise the cease of conversation meant everyone was looking at him: weirdly, he figured out, as he turned slowly to see all eyes on him. With the jerk of his thumb back over his shoulder, explained: “I’m just gonna go check on Katara.” Making all but one turn back to their gifts. It was pretty normal for either Katara or Aang to act like this about each other. 

But Sokka, who had been in the middle of stuffing his mouth with some kind of jerky, raised a conspicuous brow at him. “She’s probably sleeping, Aang, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“I know that,” He frowned back, a little offended at the way Sokka was making it seem that checking on her was a bad thing. “But still, she shouldn’t be alone on Christmas morning.”

“Suit yourself.” Sokka shrugged and Suki threw her boyfriend an angry glare that Aang, in a way, appreciated. Just as he turned to make his way to her room with a stomach full of nerves, Sokka had whipped around to face him yet again. “Oh! Aang?” he called, and Aang turned to him. “Tell her I said thanks for the gift.”

“Sure.” He smiled, glad that Sokka reminded him he actually wasn’t that inconsiderate and continued to her room.

Deep breaths, Aang, he tried to calm himself, I’m sure she isn't going to break up with you.

Instead of the sun and its usual, irritating glow greeting her first when she woke from the depths of her sleep, it had been gold coloured wrapping paper and a note with handwriting she recognised even through the cloud of sleep.

Katara,

I know this will sound a little weird, but trust me: open your gift here, not out there. You’ll know why once you’ve opened it.

All my love, Aang.

The dip she felt in her stomach was both exquisite and downright petrifying. It was enough to make her shoot upright in her bed, all and every trace of sleep marring her consciousness gone in an instant. Her eyes frantically scanned the paper over again, her head much clearer, but now her chest was heaving erratically since she had suddenly lost the ability to breathe at a normal pace. Or at any kind of pace at all.

The girl found herself revisiting one part and reading it over and over again.

-not out there. You’ll know why-

Like a broken record.

“Oh, spirits,” She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her heart racing. Right away, she knew: she knew exactly that this was not a normal gift. Although, however strong the thrill when she simply imagined what could be inside, she couldn’t bring herself to open it. All she could bring herself to do was read the note again and again as if searching for something she missed. After all, if she was wrong and it wasn’t what she imagined thanks to wishful-thinking, she didn't want to be disappointed. She was moving about the bed, reading and re-reading until there was no doubt in her mind. The words he had chosen meant she was absolutely right and she almost couldn’t believe it. It had gotten to the point that she wasn’t even sitting anymore; she was lying on her back, sprawled out on the bed with the package resting on her stomach, watching the ceiling as it would rise and then fall again with each jumpy breath she took. The woman was in such a frantic state.

But there was one constant in all of this: Katara couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off her face even if she tried.

“Okay...” She sat up at once, clutching the thing to her as if this was a dream and she didn’t want it to end. “Everything’s okay.” She had to bite her lip to keep from squealing with sheer excitement when she looked down at the gift in her hands once again. 

Finally, she exhaled the tension from her body, willing her posture to relax as her eyes landed on her reflection in the vanity holding the present tightly. “Alright...” she breathed to herself, looking down at the awfully light thing in her hands. The weight of it only made her feel the butterflies in her stomach grow stronger and she took another deep breath, her mind conveniently drifting to Aang. The thoughts flashing through her mind, the thoughts of him - the one she wanted to be with for the rest of her life - gave her the courage to start tearing the paper away and all at once she felt her apprehension morph into tingling anticipation  that made her tear the paper away with haste, at last, and she couldn't remember how to breathe when her eyes caught the entrancing colour of midnight blue and the shining fabric of silk. Suddenly, her heart was in her throat. With slightly shaking hands, she held the fabric gently between her fingers and lifted it from the remains of the paper, letting the material unfold itself, falling like a waterfall from her hands, opening itself up to her and without feeling herself do so, on instinct, she gasped.

Aang had picked this out for her.

Aang had specifically picked this and bought it with her in mind and every time that fact passed her mind she felt like the most wanted, most desired thing in the world.

Aang...

The decision was made: Katara was going to wear it for him tonight - this very short silk robe that had wide set sleeves and lace lining every hem, this seductive thing that she couldn’t wait to put on for him - and she would show him exactly how much she loved him.

Her thoughts were racing and her cheeks were burning and her smile was still proving impossible to budge from her face and she felt the urge to squeal with excitement again, her toes curling and her muscles tensing, the giddiest most elated feelings coursing through her veins and bubbling up in her chest when she thought of him and how he had bought this for her.

“Okay...” She breathed out shakily, her voice laced with a laugh and she folded the robe neatly in her hands. “Okay, okay. Okay... what am I doing?” and she realised her train of thought had been completely jumbled up with thoughts of Aang and her and his bed and-

She wanted to kiss him. Now. This exact instant.

But first, she had to-

A knock on the door stopped her in her tracks, her eyes locking on the door as she kneeled in the middle of the bed. ”Who is it?” She called sternly.

“It’s me.” 

A strangled squeak came from her throat for long enough, and she clasped a hand over her mouth.

“Is everything okay?” He sounded worried - obviously, that sound hadn’t sounded at all okay from where he was standing. She grimaced. He didn’t have a clue that she couldn’t control her own body at the moment.

She removed her hand, the deepest of blushes travelling up her body and settling firmly on her cheeks and the tips of her ears and blurted out- “Yeah, I’m fine!” -in a voice much too high voice. She cringed at herself but her whole body froze up when he spoke next.

“Oh, that's good... can I come in?” Her eyes widened. She was only in her bindings.

As inconvenient as it was, her voice still got stuck in her throat as she stared back at the door knowing the love of her life was behind it - a fact that only proved to coil the lump even tighter in her throat as she held the robe to her chest. But she was wasting time worrying about the fact she was half naked instead of-

“Katara...?”

“Yes! Yes,” She finally pushed out with a sigh of relief. “Come in!”

And she found a wave of nerves and anxiety and everything else that would cause someone to lose control of themselves crash over her body, and she couldn’t breathe again, her whole body as stiff as a board as she watched the door slowly opening. The colours red and orange and blue filled her view along with the most handsome face she had ever laid eyes on.

He was taking in the sight before him: sheets a mess on her bed, gold wrapping paper covering the expanse of it in ragged strips, and his love sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, her hands clutching what he knew to be his gift to her close to her chest. It was also easy to notice she was blushing. 

“Hey.” She blurted out with such a strangled tone that Aang couldn’t keep from smiling. 

“Hey.” He replied and timidly drew himself closer, sapphire eyes burning into his skin as he finally took a seat on the side edge of her bed. Katara was holding her breath again as the scent of him threatened to drive her hysterical. “Sokka says thanks for the gift.”

“Hm.” She hummed distantly, her smile for once gone but her fingers gently caressing the smooth fabric in her hands. He was watching her do so - she could feel his eyes on her - but she was staring blankly ahead.

There was silence. Not a welcome one at that, but Katara couldn’t bring herself to say anything - a consequence of which was Aang turning into a bundle of nerves and fear, thinking the absolute worst.

He cleared his throat, and her head snapped up to him, eyes, at last, peering into his hypnotising ones that plunged her into a trance so deep that she was thinking only of him, seeing only him. This happened so often she couldn’t count the number of times even if she tried. It took a moment for him to gather the confidence to speak, the slight furrow between his brows beckoning her smile back onto her face. He looks cute when he’s nervous. 

“...Do you like it?” Her breath hitched as she remembered exactly what had her so distracted and him so apprehensive. And then she became very aware of how close he really was: his knee was on the bed and almost touching hers, his arm, his bare arm with taut muscles and an arrow tracing down to one of his powerful hands - a hand she wanted to feel gripping her waist or even better her backside - was stretched out to his side and pressing into her mattress like she wanted to be pressed into it, fingertips painfully close to her other leg. He was halfway in front of her. Clearly, she was getting flustered. Enough for him to notice.

At the same time, it was impossible for him to ignore how she stared at his hand with this... expression on her face. This expression of... he didn’t even know. Something that looked like longing... or desperation. And then she bit her lip, completely unbeknownst to herself and her fingers coiled in the silk, like she was using it to relieve some kind of... some kind of... stress? She was completely in a world of her own and Aang found himself wanting to know what that world was right now because the look on her face was getting to him in a way only she could. The idea of her liking what he had bought her was a lingering thought in the back of his head that only served to make this situation all the more... tense. “Katara,”

The tenor of his voice shocked her out of her reverie and brought her back to the present where she could still feel that dire need for him, a need that doubled and doubled again when she saw how he was looking back at her when her face turned towards him, and doubled again when she felt his palm so light, electricity shooting through her body in sporadic waves from where his fingertips lay on her skin, resting on her knee. And she wanted him to move it further, to slide his hand up and up until-

“Is there something wrong?” He asked, as genuine as his words of worry would always be, but it was his tone that gave him away. He wasn’t oblivious: Aang, the sweet, innocent monk, knew a lot more than he would ever let on - a fact Katara knew all too well from the times they spent alone, exploring each other as far as would allow before they gave themselves to one another entirely -something she craved more as the days and nights went by and her hunger for him deepened more and more, until it seemed it couldn’t be satiated wholly by his hands and mouth alone anymore. He had pushed her right over the edge with his suggestive gift to her and she couldn’t wait to show him tonight.

Her thoughts had yet again taken a turn, her cheeks burning as she let out an exasperated laugh and shook her head. “Nothing at all,” 

“So, you like it?”

“I love it.” She let out breathlessly, sitting a little higher when his thumb caressed her skin. It seemed her sense of touch had been heightened profoundly - along with every other sense, she soon found out when his voice sent the most delectable shiver down her spine.

“I’m glad,” He smiled. A genuine smile, because he was really glad she liked it, but he was able to come to that conclusion quite easily on his own. He was smiling more at her flustered state. Aang was definitely glad he bought the robe in the end because if he hadn’t, this wouldn't be happening. “I was worried it would seem a little forward, you know? I didn’t know if you’d be offended or if-”

“Aang, I...” He looked at her, innocent, and she found herself lost in the depths of his silver gaze once again, and his thumb caressed again and she drew a long breath in through her mouth. The smug smile that tried to fight its way onto his perfect lips let her know in an instant that he knew what he was doing.

“What do you want, Katara?” Aang whispered. He knew exactly what he was doing. They had found themselves in a situation just like this one only last night but there was never anything like this beforehand, never any... teasing. Never any clever words or waiting around. And certainly never any dirty talk. 

Even just the way he said her name...

“...You know what I want.” And she glanced down at his hand. Only once, but for long enough that he noticed and followed her gaze. It was more than she was willing to give. They were so in tune with what the other wanted that usually it just happened; like a courtesy. But Aang was dragging this out and she couldn't for the life of her understand where this came from and she was a little embarrassed to play along - especially in case she said something wrong and ruined the mood completely. Noticing how coy her gesture had been only spurred him on. Understanding immediately what it was his girlfriend wanted from him, he became only more eager to fulfil her desire. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when he smiled that crooked smile down at his hand atop her knee for only a moment and she wondered what was going through his mind. When he looked back into her sapphire eyes the silver she dreamt of had darkened and it was like Aang was a different person. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me, Katara, or I can’t help you,” This boldness... this brashness. It sent heat right between her legs. He even slid his hand the tiniest bit higher, his expression completely unwavering.

“Aang...” She laughed nervously, hyperaware of his thumb gliding across her skin now raised with gooseflesh, the knot low in her stomach only coiling tighter as she gazed back at his features, confident and seductive at the very same time.

She watched him as he reached for her and for a brief moment she thought he was going to pull her to him and kiss him, but he didn’t. He took the robe from her and leaned over to set it on her bedside table, his other hand still resting on her thigh, burning delightfully against her skin, but now her hands were free and empty and she had nothing to hold on to. He knew. “Katara,” He settled again, her hands in her lap as she swallowed when his hand slid further. “You need to tell me.”

Aang was never like this. Ever. And his new found confidence was turning her on more than she thinks she could admit, though it was also rendering her speechless: she was terrified of saying the wrong thing. So, she kept her lips sealed, hoping that maybe he would give her what she wanted anyway, but she was wrong. Aang had gotten a lot more into this than she thought and she frowned as she watched him. Aang knew she wouldn't waver, so with a sigh, he took his hand from her and the cold was so unwelcome, the sight of him now standing from the bed with his back to her pushed a moan of annoyance from her throat, but he still didn’t turn around. 

How was it that she really enjoyed this side of him? 

It was the reason she crawled forward on the bed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him when she sat back on her knees, her eyes full of desperation when he looked at her again. But Aang knew she wasn’t going to let him go: she hadn’t seen or heard him block the door with earth bending, entirely caught up in Aang and nothing else. “Don’t go.” She shook her head, pulling his hand, his wrist, his forearm, pulling him onto the bed so that he was kneeling before her. Determined to keep him where he was, she rested her hands on his shoulders, still shaking her head, and all at once she felt the need to be a little daring. “Don’t leave me when I want you,” Katara whispered and he fought the urge to push her back onto the mattress at once.

Aang sighed, watching as he slid his hands up her thighs, over the curve of her hips clad by bindings and landing on the middle of her back when he kneeled a little closer, his knees in between hers. Nails lightly digging into the flesh of his shoulders, her breathing became a little more shallow; even though nothing had happened yet. When he got close to her like this, she couldn’t control herself: he had such a strong effect on her just by saying her name or touching her skin. He leaned in close, their faces inches apart. “I won't leave if you tell me what you want,” He whispered and she bit her lip, completely lost in a cloud of him.

Maybe it was his confidence that drew out her own, or maybe it was the ever-tightening knot low in her stomach or the heat between her legs. Which? It didn’t matter. She closed the space between them and kissed him without pretence, the nerves she once felt melting with the heat as he kissed her back with fervour. Though his hands were on her back, and that wasn’t what she wanted. He knew it wasn't, but he was making her work for this. So she opened her mouth, her tongue brushing against his much earlier in the kiss than usual (however, neither of them was complaining) and like she said; maybe it was his own boldness influencing hers, but she wasn't going to beat around the bush anymore. She was done waiting. Even in the midst of it all, she found his right bicep with eyes still closed and tongue still tasting him, humming against his mouth as she traced her fingers slowly down his arm until she was able to take hold of his hand and lift it from her back. She kissed him deeply, sighing heavily against his mouth that still demanded her attention and she brought his palm low on her bindings. Once more, she kissed him breathless and he hummed against her mouth before she pulled away to look at him, his eyes gazing at her in question, knowing she had finally found the courage to answer him. Still, she held his face close and he lifted her thumb to trace her bottom lip delicately, smiling when she sighed that desperate sigh that reverberated through him everytime he pulled it from her lips, her eyes falling shut, and he wanted to kiss her again, to give her what she wanted, but he knew she would say it if he waited. And for some reason, he wanted to hear her say it.

When her eyes landed again on his, all that resided was passion and love and desire and lust and she knew he would do whatever she asked.

“Touch me.” She commanded, blue eyes entrancing him when she lifted her hand and wrapped her hands around his neck with her bottom lip between her teeth as she moved to lean her forehead lovingly against his. “I want you to touch me.” And he nodded.

Without pause, she pressed her lips against his and he lifted her onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms tight around his shoulders as he moved to lay her back on the bed, a moan coming from her lips when his lips moved against hers without hesitation and with a passion that doubled the pulsing heat between her legs. Without trepidation, he took his hand and traced down her side with a slow, feather-light touch that made her writhe beneath him. But nothing compared to the way the breath got stuck in her throat as his fingers skated across her stomach and dipped beneath her bindings to where she wanted him most. She gasped a helpless sound, and Aang couldn't help but smile against her lips.

All of this; thanks to a silk robe.

[kissesdeathsaved-blog]

.     ˚     ◝     jenna     coleman   .     cis     female   .     she   /   her   .     sarah     cuthbert     has     been     living     in     chicago     for     six     months     working     as     a     medical     secretary   .     the     thirty     year     old     is     known     as     the     seraph     because     they     can     be     bucolic     &     blithe     as     well     as     diffident     &     circumspect   .     once     you     catch     them     you’ll     discover     that     their     favourite     song     is     thank     you     for     the     music     by     abba   .     maybe     that     explains     why     freshly   -   cut     flowers     arranged     daily   ,     brightest     beams     and     the     scent     of     gardenia     and     jasmin     perfume     describes     them     so     well   .

trigger     warnings     include:     mentions     of     alcoholism   .

UNE   .          /          BIOGRAPHY   .

act     one   .     british     born     and     bred          /          softest     london     accent   ,     slightest     irish     tilt   .     mother     watches     the     roses     in     your     cheeks     grow   ,     so     similar     to     her     own          ;          father     is     distant   ,     smells     like     cheap     perfume     and     cigarettes     that     you’ve     never     seen     him     smoke   .     he     disappears     when     you     turn     six   ,     when     your     mother     smiles     through     glassy     tears     and     reads     you     a     bedtime     story     with     only     minimal     hiccuping     betwixt     dialogue   .          (          it     is     not     the     gin   ,     it     is     the     mere     force     of     a     ten   -   year     heartbreak   .     nothing     sucks     the     air     out     of     your     lungs     more     than     watching     the     love     of     your     life     leave   .          )          it’s     private     schools     on     a     struggling     budget   ,     stitching     your     skirt     together     year     in     and     year     out     because     there     is     only     so     much     you     can     do     on     a     secondary     teacher’s     salary     and     a     prayer   ,     making     the     best     out     of     the     hard     times   ,     blankets     upon     blankets     upon     blankets     and     endless     cups     of     tea     because     warmth     is     fleeting   .     it’s     tough   ,     you     do     not     try     to     lie     and     neither     does     your     mother   .     she     apologises   ,     ashamed     of     the     way     you     wear     scarves     to     cover     your     frayed     collars     but     you     smile   ,     and     you     kiss     her     cheek   ,     and     you     start     cooking     dinner     because     it     is     not     her     fault     and     you     know     that   .     you     do     not     blame     your     father   ,     either          --- --- --- -          instead   ,     you     shoulder     the     hardship   .     at     fourteen   ,     you’ve     got     a     selection     of     after   -   school     jobs     that     don’t     pay     well     but     at     least     they     pay   ,     at     least     you     can     contribute   .     at     sixteen   ,     you     drop     out     and     for     a     while   ,     you     feel     catatonic   .     it’s     as     if     you     shuttle     yourself     backwards     and     forwards   ,     work     to     home     to     work     to     home     to     bed   ,     rinse     and     repeat     and     die   .     it’s     tough   ,     but     you     smile     through     gritted     teeth     and     swallow     sunshine     the     way     your     mother’s     taken     to     swallowing     gin     and     swallowing     vodka     and     swallowing          --- --- --- -          you     are     eighteen   ,     and     you     have     had     enough   .     you     love     her   ,     love     her     dearly     but     alcoholics     anonymous     feels     like     a     sham     and     the     pamphlet     says     that     a     local     organisation     can     help   .     it’s     with     a     heavy     heart     and     heavy     suitcases     that     you     leave     her     at     the     doorstep   ,     and     you     cannot     help     but     feel     like     your     father   .     like     him     before   ,     you     do     not     look     back   .

act     two   .     you     are     twenty   -   one   ,     and     this     is     terrifying   .     high     school     dropout     stands     in     front     of     a     university   ,     trembling     and     clammy     but     confident   ,     smile     etched     on     those     lovely     lips     as     you     adjust     your     collar     and     prepare     for     the     worst     because     nothing   ,     nothing     can     hurt     you   .     you     have     seen     the     worst     of     the     world   ,     have     carried     the     burdens     of     an     alcoholic     mother     and     a     father     like     houdini     on     your     frail     shoulders     since     before     you     knew     what     any     of     it     meant   .     you     go     in   ,     and     you     expect     the     worst     because     how     can     this     university   ,     with     all     its     prestige     and     awe   ,     ever     accept     a     high     school     dropout     with     more     trouble     tacked     onto     your     name     than     you     are     worth          ?          you     go     in   ,     but     they     do     not     grill     you     the     way     you     thought     they     would   .     they     do     not     sneer     when     you     mention   ,     tone     shaking     just     a     little     bit   ,     that     you     have     not     finished     high     school  ,     that     you     know     nothing     more     than     what     the     tenth     grade     has     taught     you   .     you     do     not     know     anything     past     that   ,     but     you     know     that     you     are     kind   ,     that     your     hands     are     calloused     and     sore   ,     that     you     have     worked     since     you     were     fourteen     and     that     you     are     tired     of     working     and     you     want     to     live   ,     want     to     find     a     reason     to     live   .     you     leave     with     your     acceptance  ,     pristine     in     a     trembling     fist   ,     and     it     is     there     and     then   ,     your     scuffed     brogues     plastered     to     cool     marble   ,     that     you     decide     to     do     everything     you     can     to     make     sure     you     get     to     the     top   ,     to     survive     but     fuck     surviving   ,     you     want     to     thrive     and     you     want     to     RISE   .     oh   ,     sweet     girl   ,     you     do     much     more     than     that   .     you     graduate     trinity     college     at     the     top     of     your     year   ,     and     with     your     medical     degree     in     hand   ,     you     decide     to     conquer     the     world   .

act     three   .     how     did     you     end     up     here   ,     lovely     girl          ?          how     did     you     find     yourself   ,     sprawled     on     the     floor     and     drunk     on     vintage     wine   ,     homesick     but     aching     with     excitement     for     this     new     chapter     of     your     life   .     you     leave     dublin     at     twenty   -   five   ,     and     you     work     in     london     for     a     while          --- --- --- -          a     medical     secretary     at     a     hospital     in     camden   ,     a     waitress     in     westminster   ,     you     do     whatever     you     need     to     get     by     but     london     doesn’t     feel     big     enough   ,     doesn’t     feel     enough     when     you     heart     aches     for     something     foreign   ,     something     new     and     it’s     under     the     influence     of     a     bottle     of     rosé     that     you     book     your     flight     to     new     york   .     one     way   .     it     is     terrifying   ,     so     large     and     so     full     and     so     very     american   ,     too     american     for     your     gentle     sensibilities     and     really   ,     that’s     something     that’ll     never     leave   .     you     are     english   ,     so     very     english          /          it’s     cups     of     tea     over     takeaway     coffee   ,     smiling     rather     than     scowling     on     the     subway   ,     giving     your     seat     up   ,     gentleness     and     politesse     that     stems     deep     and     wide     in     the     very     pit     of     your     belly   .     new     york     is     too     much     for     you   ,     too     loud          --- --- --- -          so     you     pack     up     and     you     move     again   ,     you     straighten     your     ponytail     and     you     take     a     deep     breath     and     you     smile   .     you     smile     on     the     plane     to     chicago   ,     you     smile     at     the     landlord   ,     you     smile     on     your     first     day     of     work     as     a     medical     secretary   .     you     smile   ,     and     you     bear     it   .     hasn’t     that     always     been     the     way          ??

DEUX   .          /          AESTHETICS   .

waking     up     to     the     sun     streaming   ,     buttery     and     gentle   ,     across     your     sheets   .     mornings     spent     barefoot     in     the     garden   ,     tea     in     hand     and     smile     already     ghosting     upon     coruscant     brims   .     sundresses   ,     lace     and     chiffon     and     cotton   ,     neat     and     ironed     and     just     as     sunny     as     the     reflection     in     your     eyes   .     lemonade     and     home   -   cooked     lunches   ,     neat     flower     arrangements     and     the     smell     of     honeysuckle     lingering     ever   -   present   .     dimples     in     your     cheeks   ,     the     feel     of     sunbeams     dancing     over     bared     skin   .     laughter     reminiscent     of     a     teenager’s   ,     bright     and     bubbly     and     girlish   ,     mellifluous   .     no     hard     words   ,     just     soft     encouragement     and     those     smiles   ,     the     kind     that     melts     ice     and     warms     even     the     coldest     of     hues   .     your     mother’s     wedding     band     on     a     slight     chain          --- --- --- -          no     note     of     your     father     except     the     sadness     when     you     see     a     six   -   year   -   old     whose     hand     is     clutched     by     that     of     an     adoring     father     figure   .     keep     calm   ,     carry     on   ,     smile   .

[lilahchase]

Playing the Part

It had been two days since Leighton had informed her of his imminent visit. Two long days that she spent pacing her room, as conflicting emotions kept her awake at night. On the one hand she was terrified. Who knew what would happen if she somehow slipped up and revealed the true nature of her stay at Leighton’s home? Actually, she corrected herself mentally, he had made that quite clear. She would be responsible for the man’s death, if she made such a mistake.

Then there was the other side of her. The side that somehow, despite the horrific situation she found herself in, was excited to see him. Excited to be released from her room, to be treated as his guest more fully. She had no idea where these feelings sprang from. Perhaps the part of her that remembered how much she had liked him before he had drugged and kidnapped her, forced her to watch as he murdered an innocent woman. Her heartbeat quickened, though from fear or desire, she wasn’t sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilah sat at the harp, gently plucking the strings. She certainly wasn't good at it yet, but she had improved a bit. With a quiet sigh, she glanced toward the door. As much as she feared him, part of her missed Leighton and hoped he'd be down to see her again soon. She had decided that there had to be kindness in him somewhere...there had to be in order to feel the kind of love he clearly felt for his poor wife. Confident in her decision, Lilah nodded to herself, and returned to practice while she waited for Leighton's next visit.

The door to Lilah’s modest basement room creaked open and Leighton appeared holding a small tray. It had a cup of steaming hot peppermint tea sat atop it, and half a cupcake. Why only half? Who knows! He approached a nearby table, placing the tray down. “I’ve brought you something,” he said in a neutral tone. He seemed almost disheartened by something, or maybe it was the idea of what came next that bothered him.

Lilah turned to Leighton, pushing the harp away as a shy smile spread across her lips. "Oh, hello," she said, turning to look at the half cupcake, brows furrowed in confusion briefly. Turning back to him, the shy smile returned. "Are you alright?" 

He smiled a bit, “I’m fine.” Leighton gave her a reassuring nod, then gestured to the tea. “It’s not poisoned, as you might suspect. And you’d be right to do so, since the last beverage I offered you was laced with enough neurotoxin to bring down a gorilla.” Sipping once, he offered the tea to Lilah. The cupcake would be left up to her. “How are you?”

Lilah took the cup, wrapping both hands around it before taking a small sip. She eyed the cupcake briefly, but made no move to take it for now. Offering him a genuine smile, Lilah shrugged a bit. "I'm alright. I've been practicing," she said as she gestured toward the harp, "But I'm still not very good. How are you? You seem...different."

“Hm?” Leighton seemed distracted a moment, his attention running from one topic to the next in his mind. “Yes, I’m fine.” His words held more of an edge the second time around. He moved back toward the door, as if already leaving, but instead ushered in a rack of beautiful, stylish dresses. “My wife’s,” Leighton commented. There were mostly silks of varying colors (red, blue, green, violet, a few with one of each). 

With a quiet gasp, Lilah set the teacup to the side and stood slowly. The smile she'd worn since his arrival faded, replaced by a look of pure confusion. "They're lovely.. but I don't understand."

“There’s a man coming today, remember?” He gestured to the dresses, “You can’t meet him in what you’re wearing, so you’ll have to wear something of Jasmine’s.” Leighton crossed his arms, “Pick out whatever you’d like.”

"Oh, right." She frowned, uncomfortable with the idea of wearing his wife's clothing. Lilah reached out to gently touch the gowns, they were all so nice, much nicer than any she'd worn before. Finally settling on a pale blue gown, she gently removed it from the rack, casting an uncertain glance at Leighton. 

He smirked. “I have seen a naked woman before, you know,” teased Leighton. Despite that, he turned around, “Before my work took on a second life, I would often paint nudists. Landscapes, too.” He looked down, “My wife was a better painter than I’ll ever be. ‘She was born with a brush in her little hand,’ her mother used to joke.”

Lilah blushed furiously, but began to change as he turned his back. "Is that why you chose to...um..do what it is that you do?" As she finished changing, she smoothed her hair, suddenly feeling very self conscious with the rest of her appearance in such a lovely gown. "Okay, I'm dressed..." she said quietly, cheeks turning a bright pink. 

Leighton turned back around, nodding. “It is,” he said in a tone of admittance, “I am continuing my Jasmine’s legacy, in both her honor and memory.” He eyed her up and down, “Pale blue suits you. Brings out your eyes.” Leighton glanced about the room a moment before looking towards the wooden door. 

Lilah couldn't help but smile at the compliment, the faint blush deepening. She followed his gaze toward the door, suddenly becoming very nervous. "So, um, what now?"

“Now you pretend everything’s fine,” Leighton said, sharply. “He’ll be here any moment, and you’ll need to play a part.” He stepped to Lilah, cupping gently both her cheeks, “You’re my cousin’s sister who’s temporarily staying with me. Your name's Eleanor, and his Travis. Say only what you need to.” His words darkened, “If you try to signal him, if you do anything that I don’t like, I’ll slit his throat and add him to my wall.” He remained cupping Lilah’s cheeks, “Nod if you understand.”

Lilah blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, nodding silently. His tone had brought the fear back to the forefront, as well as something new. Part of her was hurt for some reason she couldn't understand. She stayed where she was, his hand on her face as she waited. Leighton nodded. “Good,” he said, moving towards the door. As he did, a knock arrived at the one above them. “And just like that, he’s here.” He climbed the stairs, unlocking the door at the top and leaving it unlocked until Lilah followed suit. After, he clicked it back into place.

“Hello, Ezekiel,” Leighton said, opening up to reveal a man of average height. He had dark brown hair, and a set of nervous brown eyes to match.“Hello,” Zek replied, entering with caution. He seemed paranoid of everything. “They followed me, I think.” Leighton shook his head, “No one followed you, Zek. Come, I want you to meet my kin.” He ushered the man to Lilah, “Zek, this is Eleanor; Eleanor, this is Ezekiel, an associate of mine.”

Lilah followed Leighton silently, and waited patiently as he greeted his guest,  frowning a bit at the man's paranoia. Glancing toward Leighton, she turned to Ezekiel with what she hoped was a convincing smile."Hello," she said quietly, "It's so nice to meet you."

Ezekiel’s hesitation was wholly apparent before taking Lilah’s hand. “Pleasure’s mine,” he said, awkwardly releasing it. His hands were clammy.Leighton gestured all of them into the next room, where he brought Zek a glass of bourbon to calm his nerves. “So, you’re free to stay here as long as you want,” the Agent said. “No one knows about it but the people here in this room.”Zek nodded, looking to Leighton, “How do you know Leighton here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Lilah smiled, clasping her hands together in front of her. "My brother, Travis is his cousin. He has been kind enough to let me stay with him for a time." She glanced to Leighton, afraid to say any more. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had never lied like this before, certainly not with so much at stake.

“Travis’ sister, you say?” Ezekiel questioned. He narrowed his eyes, “That’s funny. I could’ve swore she was taller.” 

 Leighton interjected, “You saw them from afar, Zek. Relax and try not to let your paranoia get you in trouble with the lady.” He laughed, completely natural, as if he’d been lying all his life and it was but a second nature to him now. 

“True enough,” Zek commented, throwing back his glass of bourbon. “Have another?”

Leighton nodded, filling it again. He offered Lilah much the same, if she wished it. 

“So,” Ezekiel said, “I shouldn’t be here long. I don’t like staying in one place too long. I’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

Leighton’s jaw tensed visibly. Zek couldn’t see it, but Lilah could. “A week? Very well.” He looked to the Gilnean. A week of lying, of playing a part.

Lilah shook her head slightly, bourbon would only make this more difficult. Hazel eyes widened a bit at Ezekiel's words and she looked to Leighton in time to see he jaw tense. Her heart pounded even harder, though it wasn't only the idea of a week of lying that caused it.She turned to Ezekiel with what she hoped would pass for a welcoming smile.

Ezekiel stood after a moment, swirling the contents of his glass as he approached Leighton. He stopped about halfway, nervously turning, stopping, and turning again. Eventually, he leaned in, whispering something. 

Leighton didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, nor the man’s words.“They’re not after you,” Leighton said in a hushed tone.

“They are!” Zek exclaimed, although quietly. “I can feel them watching, waiting. It’s unnerving.”

“Get a grip,” Leighton said, taking Zek by the collar. He let go a moment later, smoothing it out for him. “No one’s followed you here, I assure you.”They both turned to the Gilnean, Leighton smiling down at her. “How about some music, Lilah? Why don’t you fetch your harp?”

Lilah watched the exchange with wide eyes. The entire situation making her increasingly nervous. Her panic doubled when Leighton requested the harp, but she was too afraid to refuse. "Oh, of course." She offered the men a shaky smile before heading to retrieve the harp.

Leighton and Ezekiel were sitting patiently, the latter still drowning out his paranoia in a glass of bourbon. “Ah,” Leighton said, “Here she is with her harp.” He nudged Zek, “She’s been practicing, but only a little, so if you want to start us off, so be it.”

Ezekiel smiled a little, gesturing for the harp. “Oh, well, OK. I— I can do that.” He breathed into his hands, preparing.

Lilah happily handed the harp over, thankful to be out of the spotlight. "As Leighton said, I'm not very good yet, so it will be a treat to see someone play who knows what they're doing." Unsure what to do with herself now, Lilah took a seat near Leighton and folded her shaking hands on her lap.

Ezekiel began plucking away at the harp’s strings, creating a melody both pleasant and rhythmic. It was soft, sweet. “I learned when I was younger,” Zek said, continuing, “For my work, you see. I was an entertainer.“ And a spy who often played the Devil’s advocate. 

Leighton leaned in after a moment, whispering, “You’re doing great.”

Lilah smiled politely at Ezekiel, casting a sideways glance at Leighton as he whispered to her. Her cheeks flushed just slightly, and she mentally thanked the Light that he hadn't seemed to notice how much her hands were shaking, or how her pulse sped up the moment he leaned closer to her. She offered Leighton an appreciative smile in thanks, afraid to draw too much attention to their little conversation.

Ezekiel continued plucking, casting a glance towards Leighton and Lilah. He looked away, eventually, missing a couple of notes. “I think I’m done,” Zek said, rising from his chair. “If you two will excuse me, I think I’ll sleep until supper.”

“Sure,” Leighton said, eyes moving to Ezekiel. “You know where the spare room is.” 

He nodded, disappearing down a hallway. Leighton’s gaze fell to the harp left behind. “If he truly is here a week, you will need to manage as best you can.”

Lilah smiled politely until Ezekiel was out of the room. The moment he was out of sight, she turned to Leighton with wide, panicked eyes. "Of course but....if he notices my...accommodations, surely he will have questions. Should I avoid him altogether?"

“I’ll leave your accommodations unlocked,” he said. “Don’t avoid him, but ensure he doesn’t wander into a certain room underneath us.” There was a brief pause before he continued, a smile accompanying it, “Pale blue really does suit you.” He looked towards the door, “I keep thinking she’ll walk through that door. You remind me of her.“

Lilah nodded as he gave her instructions, calming a bit. She felt the familiar warmth spread through her cheeks at his compliment, glancing down at her folded hands. "Thank you," she said quietly before looking up at him. "You must miss her a lot."

“I do,” Leighton said. He sighed, looking down. “You understand, I’m sure.” There had been a genuine sadness in his voice, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived. His eyes rose to Lilah’s after a moment, “What’s something you like to eat? I’ll prepare it for you.“

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@leighton-ryder-wra