#in the tea house (ic thread)

[starberry-cupcake]

Me reading this book is like trying to pin things to a cork board with red thread but the things I'm trying to pin down are fog and they vanish before I can grasp them.

Here's a visual representation of me finishing a chapter:

previously, in harrowbeenie the ninth:

this happened

currently, after chapter 5 (you're gonna have to be patient with this one):

we're moving back and forth between the second and third person

knowing now the content of the letters that yandere twin had talked about in the prologue, it makes some sense

but we aren't there yet

I need to point out something I don't think I specified enough last time

ice cube barbie changed eyes

people be changin' eyes here

she used to have eyes like harrow and now she has, and I quote: "ever since you had writhed in Lyctoral agony, her eyes had turned a yellow that made you dizzy to behold: a bronzed, hot, animal yellow, as amber as the inside of an egg"

this is from gideon's last ch.: "Gideon's eyes, as they always did, startled her: their deep, chromatic amber, the startling hot gold of freshly-brewed tea"

just gonna leave that there

but now, moving forward...or backwards to ch. 3 flashback of sorts

we got a recap of most of the events we knew, but in a gideon-less ver.

I'm gonna also point out that harrowbean mentions her mother holding her wrist the same way she said ice cube barbie did when they were in the coffin hangar

another addition to the clown emperor's story is that the Resurrection is described in harrow's memories as "ten thousand years ago had given them all release from death that none of them had deserved"

I don't know about any of this

we've got a disturbance in the force when harrow describes her parents finding out about the tomb thing

it says "her parents had...found out...about what she had done"

interesting edit of the story there

there's a gideon-sized hole in this story

there's also an interesting new count of nooses??

she says they tied five, two for mortus (???) but in gideon's book she said they tied their own nooses and then helped her tie hers, what's up with mortus having two??? is this nothing and I'm just obsessing about every detail???

I'm gonna start seeing palmolive's force ghost roaming around my house

at the end of ch. 3 it says "there had been another girl who grew up alongside Harrow—but she had died before Harrow was born"

this is a VERY INTERESTING wording

if someone dies before you are born, they can't grow up with you

UNLESS

I'm not gonna dwell on that yet

let's put a pin on that

ch. 4 has the re-apparition of yandere twin

*live studio audience cheers, maybe*

she gives her a letter addressed to her from her

the letter has a lot of instructions of things she doesn't remember at all and also are supposed to be opened at specific times/events

one of them says "in the event of the emperor's death"

another says it's in case she sees regina george twin, which makes a whole argument happen and knives are used to settle it

yandere twin will not hear someone imply her sister might be no longer with us

she probably isn't dead, this I know for certain, people wouldn't be confusing my names for them if that was all we got from her

the most important letter, though, is the one in case she sees camilla, who harrow claims not having interacted with ever

this is a very important thing to note, but most importantly, CAMILLA MENTION

very important to be noting who harrow remembers interacting with and who she doesn't

very important as well that she remembers yandere twin losing an arm in battle but does not remember gideon or camilla

I haven't mentioned it yet but, in the letter, past!harrow tells present!harrow that she needs to check yandere twin's tongue and lower mandibule

to which I think to myself "I bet she's gonna kiss her"

and that she did

which makes me want an edition of this book but with gideon commentary

like a dvd commentary but it's gideon commenting on all this stuff

and cracking jokes

because I bet she'd be cracking jokes about this

remember when she joked that yandere twin would marry mayonnaise uncle?

and then both harrow and mayonnaise uncle were like "ew the third's magic is weird"

imagine if she saw this display

another CRUCIAL thing is that harrow is doing like an oath to yandere twin as requested by past!harrow

and she says "by the ripped and remade soul of ortus nigenad"

and yandere twin goes "who? oh, yes—the cavalier"

I mean, mood at not remembering the names, but also SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR

she also tells present!harrow "I gave you something you cared about very deeply at the time"

side note, there is yet another moment in which chad is read for filth

get obliterated even in undeath, chad

last detail from this chapter is that harrowbean almost gets assassinated

maybe I should have started with that

at this point there's so much going on, death seems like a normal one

so yeah, she's gonna get killed with a pillow to the face and then she defends herself and discovers at the end of the chapter that she didn't hallucinate the whole thing and it was hidden from her on purpose that somebody tried to end her

so what's the point in being in this clown death star and surviving big brother canaan house if you can't even sleep peacefully???

moving on to chapter 5

remember the timeline I was making?

yeah, about that

chapter 5, in the third person continuity, establishes that what I saw previously was not necessarily a memory but an au memory

if we can call it something at this point

so my calculations were made as if the timeline was one

but this is not one timeline, it's a sort of parallel gideon-less one

of course my heart is making me believe the gideon-less one is the one that isn't real

and that past!harrow might know what's going on with that

maybe gideon's existence needs to be protected

maybe the emperor doesn't have to know about her

(I'm still holding on to the gideon hope, leave me alone)

but, in any case, present!harrow doesn't know

let's remember the prologue begun with harrow doing something she shouldn't and yandere twin saying something like "was there something in those letters I don't know about?"

I'm just gonna have to throw my timeline in the trash and start over with multiple timelines for now

ALSO, I didn't say anything about it yet, but it's mentioned that harrow is "in love" with ice cube barbie

take that as you will

which is another joke gideon has made in the past and would be stellar in a commentary of this

and, talking about things gideon would be awesome at commenting

in the new ortus-inclusive (?) narrative, ortus is talking about the epic of Matthias Nonius, who we know because harrow has compared gideon to him in the past

and also there's is a comment made about how ortus looks down on people who read "prurient magazines or pamphlets"

I really need gideon confessionals commentary over here

she also says that "the ninth house character, she was forced to admit, had always been low on wild and confident fucks"

yeah, well, how about that

and we end with THE FLIMSY

lots of important flimsies in this

she finds a note that reads "THE EGGS YOU GAVE ME ALL DIED AND YOU LIED TO ME"

ortus says he can't read it

but, in any case,

that made me stop in my tracks because I was reminded I forgot about the writing on the walls of canaan house?????

I filed it under canaan house weirdness but then, it was never talked about?????? again????

also the paper gideon found with her name

which I assumed was addressing the other gideon that not!dulcinea mentioned knowing

but who tf knows at this point

who knows what time and space are anymore

time to leave it for today...this is getting wild, you guys

#luly reacts to tlt #tlt spoilers #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw #me looking for that scene of Kim just to make that gif #I need to start making these shorter istg

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Thirteen

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve

A/N: Gah! This was a tough one to write! But hopefully it'll be to your satisfaction my dear readers! And yeah, this chapter is gonna cover The Tales of Ba Sing Se but only Iroh's is covered in this. Zuko's will be next don't worry!

For once, Orora was the first one up.

Or at least, the first of the two youngsters.

Iroh's bed mat was empty, she noticed, tiptoeing her way out of the room, not wanting to wake Zuko. He was rather particular about his beauty sleep being disturbed, of course when she had observed so, using the same words, she'd received a cushion to the face.

Alright, so maybe teasing Zuko was fun. Then again it was only revenge since he didn't hold back either.

He'd actually laughed out loud when she had admitted to not understanding the use of a dustpan when she had swept the shop. That was back they had just started to work. Granted his laugh had been more of a HA sound, that was more haughty then playful, she had quickly shut him up by reminding him that there was no need for it where she was from since everything was made of ice.

Besides, just because the both of them had called truce, didn't mean that they were about to stop their arguing. Honestly, most of the time, they were the most interesting part of her day.

Moving to the stove, she picked up the spark rocks, only to stop at the sight of a scroll sitting in the middle of the table. Curious, she picked it up and unfolded it.

Dear Zuko and Orora,

Since there was to be no work today, I decided to spend it by myself. I will be back after sundown, so do not worry about me. Be on guard and stay safe. I expect to return to a clean house, with no broken furniture, and, hopefully, both of you with all your limbs intact.

Love, Uncle.

Smiling to herself, Orora set the letter aside. Honestly, with how much Iroh had to deal with it was good that he had a day off. Enjoy himself perhaps? He did have to work hard to make sure she and Zuko didn't get in trouble, or didn't kill one another.

Humming softly under her breath, she began to prepare breakfast, frowning slightly at the few ingredients that were left in the meager pantry. Deciding to perhaps go shopping later, she continued making breakfast. While normally she would have made something just for herself, she made sure to make some for Zuko as well. The young waterbender had only just put the finishing touches and was pouring some tea when Zuko emerged, tousle-haired, yawning and rubbing his neck from where he had slept wrong.

"Morning!" She greeted, smiling at him. Alright, so she was in a good mood. No work, and shopping later. What more could a girl want?

Zuko made a small sound in reply, probably a greeting back, as he looked around the apartment. "Where's Uncle?" He asked, his voice a little hoarser then usual since he had just woken up. Orora held up the letter. "He said he was taking the day by himself. I'm sure he got tired of us bickering all the time."

Holding up the pot of tea, she gestured for him to sit. "Eat while its still warm. I'm gonna go shopping for some stuff after this, we're almost out of food." Zuko settled onto the futon on the opposite side of the small table they would be sharing.

"You made breakfast?" Usually it was Uncle who made it, since he was the first one up. Orora frowned. "What? You don't think I know how to cook?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Zuko was still looking at the meager yet appetizing bowl of food. "No, but I didn't think you would make breakfast for me. Only Uncle has ever done that."

Her face fell, that all too familiar squeeze in her heart making her nearly clench her chest, but she stopped just in time. Instead her hands tightened around her teacup.

"Spirits Zuko. Why do you have to go and make me sad so early in the day?" She muttered, to which he frowned from where he was already eating his breakfast.

"How is that sad?" It still astounded her how normal Zuko thought it was for people to not care about him. Small things like making him breakfast, or a cup of tea, helping him out with his work at the shop. During those first few days of their truce, when she had offered to help him, he had actually asked her what she wanted him to do in return.

Orora had been stunned to say the least. She assured him that she was doing it simply because she wanted to, a reply that had him frowning in confusion and asking why.

"Just eat your breakfast." She muttered, pointing at the food with her chopsticks and continuing with her own breakfast. "What're your plans for today then?" The girl spoke after a few moments of silence. "Will you actually be going out and enjoying a beautiful day, or are you going to find a dark corner to sulk and brood?"

The scowl he threw at her had her grinning into her cup as she finished up her tea. "I don't do that." He sulked, prompting her to bite her lower lip to keep herself from laughing out loud.

Finishing first, she quickly stood up, giving her utensils a quick wash using her waterbending. "You know its amazing how its the middle of Spring and we haven't had any rain yet." She observed. "I'm looking forward to it. Maybe I can try and waterbend some of the rain to use it as a weapon."

It had been so long since she'd practiced. Orora was actually making plans to go to the Outer Wall and practice at a Lake. One of the patrons at the tea shop had told her about Lake Laogai, maybe she would have a little fun there.

Behind her, Zuko barely heard what she said, his mind focusing on a rather insignificant detail she had just revealed.

Spring.

Mid Spring.

His face fell, his eyes widened, and his hand darted out to grab the letter where it rested on the table. "Wait?! What date is it today?" Zuko, looking around and letting out a frustrated sound when he saw no calendar in sight. Orora turned around, putting her now clean bowl in the small cupboard as she did.

The answer she received pulled an instant reaction from Zuko. His hand flew to his forehead, before sliding down his face as he muttered. "Spirits! How could I forget?!"

She frowned. "Forget what?" It was strange seeing Zuko act like that. Usually he was either annoyed or angry. Though lately even those emotions had been few and far in-between. Sighing deeply, the young Prince removed his hand from his face, gripping the letter with the other as he replied.

"Its............today's Lu Ten's birthday." He muttered. An aching sadness clenched his heart as memories of his beloved cousin rose tot he forefront of his mind.

Orora blinked. "Who's Lu Ten?" She asked, wandering what kind of person would have Zuko reacting in such a manner. Another sigh, before his gaze lifted to meet her's

"Lu Ten is......was my cousin. Uncle's son."

The way he spoke, the sadness in his very expression and eyes had a sickening feeling settle in her chest. And her suspicions were confirmed true when he spoke the next few words.

"He died a few years ago. While he and Uncle were trying to conquer Ba Sing Se."

A startled gasp fell from her lips, a hand rising to cover her mouth as her eyes darted to the letter he still held. "Oh my Spirits, I didn't....you never......he didn't tell........"

Zuko shook his head, putting the letter on the table. "He doesn't like to talk about it. Its still painful for him." The young girl gave a small nod. "I get it, its never easy to loose a loved one. And its never easy for a parent to loose a child."

Silence fell between them, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Orora's were filled with the smiling visage of her Master, and how, despite the tremendous loss he had faced, he was always smiling, ready with the right words of wisdom, not to mention how kind he was.

Zuko was lost in his own memories of his cousin. While he had never been close to Azula, Lu Ten, despite the age difference, had been more of a sibling to him then she had. He had always been ready to play with him, show him a new firebending move.

Orora finally glanced up at Zuko, her expression soft. Clearly the day was just as hard for Zuko as it probably was for Iroh. What should've been a day of celebration, would be a day of mourning for both of them.

Suddenly an idea began to form in her mind, one that could either work out really well, or would go wrong. She hoped it would be the former.

Standing up, the girl quickly made her way over to the small wardrobe where she kept her shopping bag. Slinging both it and her water satchel over her shoulder, she made sure she had enough money before moving to stand beside Zuko.

He hadn't even moved from his spot, opting to simply stare at the wall in front of him, his half-eaten food now cold on the table. Reaching out she rested a hand on his shoulder, an act that he barely acknowledged, other then the slight tenseness in his shoulders.

"Why don't you stay at home today, I'll be back in a couple of hours. I can shop alone."

Receiving no response, and really she hadn't been expecting one, the young waterbender rose to her feet, and with one final glance in his direction, she slipped out of the apartment.

                                          ————————–

Slumping onto one of the many benches littered in the shopping market, Orora wiped her brow as she dropped the food she had bought in the last half hour, next to her. Once she had caught her breath, the young girl did a mental headcount of everything she had bought so far. She had splurged a little to get a few ingredients they normally wouldn't buy, but for her plan to work, all of her purchase was crucial.

Digging into one of the bags, she brought out a moon peach, a fruit she had grown quite fond of since coming to Ba Sing Se. Munching on her snack, she took a few minutes to catch her breath before she was to make the trek back home.

It was amazing how people were going about their lives, as if nothing was happening beyond the borders of their Walls. Then again, maybe for them nothing was going on. The were safe in here. And were so used to it that they didn't think the Fire Nation could reach them.

She hoped it would remain that way.

Finishing the fruit, she quickly stood, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out how she would carry all her purchase home.

She was so lost in her contemplation that she barely felt a familiar figure walk up to stand next to her.

"You've been staring for so long people are actually starting to point at you." That all too familiar husky voice cut through her thoughts, prompting her to turn in his direction.

"Zuko! What're you doing here? I thought you were back home?" He remained silent, cutting quite the imposing figure with his swords at his side and the serious expression on his face. Then it occurred to her. "Have you been following me?" She asked, her tone sounding more then a little accusatory as she glared at him. Zuko glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Following you and keeping you safe from a distance are two different things Orora." He stated. Ice blue eyes blinked at him disbelief. She stared at him long enough for him to grow uncomfortable.

"What?" He demanded sounding defensive, prompting Orora to give him a bright smile. "Awww, Zuko, were you worried about me?" She all but cooed, her tone teasing, albeit carrying a pleasing undertone. A bright blush spread across the Prince's cheeks, prompting her smile to grow even wider.

If that was even possible.

"Uncle asked me to keep an eye on you in the city." He quickly stated, pinning it all on his absent Uncle.

She couldn't help it.

A warm bubble of affection for the scowling, annoyed, flustered looking Prince prompted her to throw her arms around his shoulders.

And while Zuko's entire being froze, his golden eyes widening in disbelief, Orora allowed herself those few seconds of embrace to enjoy the presence of another person. She'd barely gotten any expressions of affection as a child, and she was intent on not passing up any chance to showcase her affection for her new family. Once Iroh returned, he would be getting a hug from her as well. For now, not wanting Zuko to combust into flames from embarrassment, she simply let out a small laugh. "You're a big old softie Zuko, and you know it." She stated as she pulled back. He was staring at her as if she had grown a second head.

Smiling to herself, the young waterbender quickly turned around and hefting one of the heavier bags, pushed it into Zuko's hands. He fumbled with it briefly, still a little lost at what had just happened, but he adjusted quickly.

"Now, come on! We have a lot of work to do if we want everything to be ready for tonight." She stated before gathering the rest of the bags and starting the walk back home.

Zuko, having regained his normal thought process, started after her. "Wait! Ready for what?!" He called out, his embarrassment ebbing away to be replaced by a sense of elation and tranquility.

All because Orora had hugged him.

Between the both of them, their string flickered again, though neither of then noticed.

                                          ————————–

"Remind me again, how I got roped into doing this with you?"

"Because I threatened to ice you to the wall if you didn't help."

"Argh, I can't believe I'm being reduced to helping you."

"Its called doing something nice for someone Zuko. Now get back to your task. You still have to peel the carrots after this."

An annoyed huff was her only response, but Orora didn't pay any mind to it as she continued to cut the many fruits she had bought.

On their trip home, she had told Zuko of her plan. One that included making delicious food, all ready and waiting for Iroh whenever he would come back, to celebrate Lu Ten's birthday.

Zuko had tried to protest, but had shut up, when she had reasoned that since Iroh had spent the entire day by himself, he would love a little dinner to celebrate the life his son had lived.

As short as it may have been.

Glancing at Orora out of the corner of his eyes, something he noticed he did quite a lot, Zuko couldn't help but be envious of her. He would never have thought of coming up with an idea like that, let alone have the common sense to pull it off. Sure he was a good strategist and all, and could come up with a plan of escape or evasion when the situation called for it, but it would seem Orora had the upper hand when it came to dealing with people in a more compassionate way.

Almost as if they were two halves of a whole.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the dough she had ordered him to knead. So far all he had managed to do was get himself covered in flour, and his fingers sticky. He made a face, pulling his hand away and watching the dough stretch as he did. "How long do I have to knead it for?" He asked. "You can stop once its smooth." She replied, not bothering to take her eyes away from her cutting.

As he began to knead the dough once more, he couldn't help but ask. "So, how does the daughter of a noble know how to cook?" It was a little strange for him since back at the Fire Nation, daughters of noblemen didn't learn to do so. Instead they hired servants to cook for them.

"Well like I've told you, my father believed a woman's place was at home. And while I hated the endless sewing that was of no use, as well as the etiquette lessons, I did enjoy learning how to cook."

Indeed, the way she had taken charge of preparing everything and ordering him about, anyone would think she had done this before. Even her tea making skills had been alright before Uncle had begun teaching her. Now she brewed tea just as well as his Uncle. Though he would never tell the old man that for fear of breaking his heart. He still fancied himself the best tea maker in the world.

Thankfully, the dough had started to attain a more normal shape and texture. It wasn't sticking to his fingers much, and was becoming soft and pliable. "Is that enough kneading?" He asked over his shoulder, accidentally swiping at his forehead.

Putting her knife down she quickly walked over, eyes assessing the now perfect dough. "Looks good, now start on the carrots." Her eyes shifted from the dough to his face.

A small giggle fell from her lips, one that promptly turned into a full laugh that had her clapping her hand over her mouth and her shoulders to shake.

Zuko frowned. "What?" He asked, looking bemused. Not bothering to answer, and still smiling from ear to ear, the girl grasped his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the small mirror Iroh had installed just beside the front door.

He was truly a sight to behold.

And not in a good way.

Somehow, he had managed to get flour in his hair, and on his cheek. That was nothing to say of the sticky dough that hung from his hair where he had wiped his hand not even a few moments ago.

"Why don't you go wash yourself up before the next task?" Orora offered, patting him gently on the back in a reassuring manner, though she was still laughing softly. He just looked so utterly ridiculous like that.

Normally, Zuko would be embarrassed at such a state, but something about the way Orora's carefree laughter followed him to the wash basin, where he quickly scrubbed his face clean, he found he didn't mind looking like that.

Not when it made Orora laugh like he had never heard her laugh before.

Maybe Orora was right. Maybe he was getting soft.

Or maybe, he was allowing himself to accept her as a friend and letting himself not be defensive around her like he normally was with people.

It wasn't long before almost everything was cooking away on the stoves. "You know its convenient to have a firebender around while you're cooking." Orora mused as she came to sit down beside Zuko where he was struggling to make dumplings. "Why do you say that?" He asked, making a dejected face at the lumpy dumpling he had made.

She smiled, as she began to create her own dumpling with practiced ease, though she did go a little slower so that Zuko could pick up on her steps and follow suit. "Because I can always ask you to lower the intensity of the flame, or increase it without having to struggle with the wood and smoke."

He gave her a look, though he did wave his hand and the fire beneath the stove lessened in intensity. Orora grinned at him, while he allowed himself a smile in return as well.

The both of them continued to make dumplings in a companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Were you close to your cousin?" Orora asked, her curiosity getting the best of her as she glanced at Zuko. "Well, I was more close to him then Azula, so yeah, I guess I was." He responded after a brief moment of hesitation.

Suddenly he smiled. "He was actually the one who gave me my first set of Dao Swords. It was just before he left with Uncle to the war front. Told me he expected to train with me once he returned." Placing another dumpling on the plate, he shrugged. "That last part didn't happen, but I did get really good at it."

She nodded in agreement, smiling softly at him. "Well from what I've seen, you are good." He sounded so proud and eager about his accomplishment. "I'm sure he would be proud of the person you've become." Finishing the last of her dumpling and setting it in the steamer she waited for him to finish up before putting it on the pot of water she had bubbling away to start the steaming process.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up. Its just the dessert left so I'll finish up." Nodding, he walked off to the next room, eager to get out of his flour covered clothes. Humming to herself, Orora quickly fixed up the final touches on her dessert. A little treat with a little help from her bending when the time would come. For now though she simply prepped everything before moving to check on the rest of the dishes. It was nearing sunset now, and hopefully Iroh would be returning soon.

Zuko came out after ten minutes, looking much cleaner in his new green Earth Kingdom clothes. Iroh had insisted they buy nicer clothes for some formal engagement they might have. The two teenagers had been a little skeptical at first, and while Zuko had to be convinced to buy new clothes, he still didn't like the colors, Orora had been quick to pick out a rather pretty light green robe for herself.

"Just keep an eye on the dumplings, and set out the table." She instructed, walking past him. Zuko rolled his eyes at her slightly bossy nature, though he did move to obey her.

Once the table was set, he moved to check on the food. The small apartment smelled amazing, and he couldn't wait to actually start eating. Though when he checked on the broth for the noodles, he did decide to do a little taste test.

Picking up a spoon he scooped up some of the broth. It tasted good, just needed a little more spice.

Spotting the container that held the red flakes, he quickly unscrewed the lid and dropped in a couple spoons. Waiting a couple of minutes to allow the spices to dissolve properly, he tasted it again.

Still a little too bland for his liking. And Uncle's too, he was sure.

So he added another spoonful.

And this time, it was perfect.

Nodding in satisfaction, he allowed himself one more taste of the broth before being startled by Orora. "Zuko!" He quickly put the spoon down, pivoting on his heel, and raising his hands as if to defend himself. "I was only tasting!"

Orora frowned from where she stood. "You just had a couple of fruits, leave some room in your stomach for the actual food." She scolded, reaching up to push her blue dragon hair comb back in place behind her head to keep her hair away from her face.

It was then that Zuko noticed what she was wearing. A long light green robe, that was tied around her waist with a satin sash. The edges of the robe was a lighter green, the same shade as the sash. Her sleeves were snug along her arms. The entire dress was covered in swirling deigns in gold as well as the darkest shade of green.

As she straightened the neckline of her dress, he briefly wandered how she would look were she to wear the clothes of his nation.

He couldn't help but look at her now, he would certainly not be able to look away if she ever wore red. Shaking his head to push away the thoughts, he moved to put the finishing touches on his table set-up. And only turned around in time to see her lifting the same spoon he had been using to give the broth a taste.

His eyes widened. "No, Orora! Wait!"

                                          ————————–

Iroh had seen many strange things over the course of his life. But nothing could prepare him for the scene that greeted him when he opened to door to his home.

There was his pupil, fanning her hands with her tongue hanging out, while his nephew was laughing his head off. A strange but not at all unwelcome sight since he had not heard his nephew laugh like that in a long time.

"I wilth kilth thu Thuko!" Came Orora's voice, slightly distorted since she had her tongue hanging out. Her words only caused Zuko to laugh that much harder, clutching his stomach and nearly staggering where he stood. Still fanning her tongue, Iroh watched as his young pupil quickly picked up the entire bucket of their drinking water and empty it completely.

Granted it was not even half full, but still that was a lot of water.

Once done, Orora set the bucket aside and touched her still tingling lips. "Spirits Zuko! Why'd you go and make it so spicy?!" She demanded of his nephew who was grinning from ear to ear. "Because it's how Uncle and I like it."

The young girl only huffed. "Yeah well that spice level nearly had me breathing fire. You're gonna burn your own tongue off if you're not careful."

Picking up the now empty bucket, she chucked it in his direction, which he caught.

It was then that Zuko realized his Uncle was back. Orora, too, caught sight of him standing in the doorway just then. Despite the sadness that he had felt the entire day, coming home to this, to both of them, lightened his heart more then he had thought possible.

"Mind telling me what is going on?" He asked.

                                          ————————–

The small table was laden with all the food the two teenagers, coughOroracough, had prepared throughout the day. There were fresh dumplings, steaming roast duck, udon noodles, a fruit platter and a selection of vegetables to top the noodles with.

Iroh was frowning in amusement from his seat of honor at the head of the table, as he watched Zuko settle on his right and Orora on his left, on either sides of the table.

Clearing her throat, Orora lifted her gaze to meet her Teacher's. "Zuko, told me what today was." She finally revealed. Iroh glanced briefly in his nephew's direction. "I suppose you would've known eventually, given how close we have gotten over the past few months."

Orora smiled at his words before continuing. "And I know that its a very sad day, but I thought that perhaps we should also celebrate today together. In honor of your son's memory. I'm sure he would not want to see you sad." She couldn't help but reach out and place her hand atop Iroh's.

"I....I hope you do not find our efforts offending in anyway."

She truly looked and felt nervous as she waited for her Teacher to react. Zuko looked at his Uncle and saw the reaction before it came. Iroh gently gripped Orora's hand in both his own and, despite the tears in his eyes, he smiled.

"You have too kind and pure a heart for this world, my dear." He said, his voice laced with emotion. "You have truly been a bright light in our lives since you have come." And though he could never have voiced it like his Uncle had, Zuko did give a small nod of agreement when Orora's blue eyes flitted in his direction.

As if seeking confirmation and reassurance.

She smiled back, wiping away the tears that escaped her with the back of her hand. Reaching into the bag he had taken with him for the day, Iroh pulled out the portrait he had of his son. "Place it on the futon Zuko." He tasked his nephew, who quickly obeyed, setting the portrait so that it would take up the final place at the table.

"Before we begin, I would like to propose a toast." Iroh stated, raising his glass of tea. Orora and Zuko gripped theirs as well, after the former had poured a cup for Lu Ten's portrait.

"A toast to my beloved son, in honor of his birthday." Iroh stated, a sad yet proud smile on his lips as he gazed at his son's portrait.

"A toast to Zuko." He turned the cup to his nephew, who looked a little startled to being addressed like that. "For always remaining vigilant and keeping us all safe, for it is his nature to protect." Orora smiled brightly at the flustered Prince.

"A toast to Orora, for showing my nephew and I the compassion we sorely needed, trusting us when no one else would and making us smile again." A please blush crept across her tanned cheeks as she laughed shyly.

"And to myself." Iroh raised his free hand to press against his chest. "For being the best tea maker in all of Ba Sing Se." He stated in a jovial tone. Zuko shook his head, an affectionate look on his face as he regarded his Uncle. "And for getting us safely to Ba Sing Se." The Prince added. "And for always being ready with a word of wisdom to help the both of us out whenever we need it." Orora beamed.

Their cups held aloft, they toasted one last time before drinking the warm beverage. "Now let us eat."

It was truly a night to remember. With easy conversation and stories shared between the three of them. The highlight of the evening had to be the food, though when Orora brought out dessert it overshadowed everything else.

Using her waterbending abilities, she was able to use the cream and milk to create ice cream. Iroh decided to use jasmine tea as his flavor, while Zuko opted for cherries from the fruit platter. Orora herself added strawberries to her own. She even put on a little show by creating small ice sculptures of different animals and having them move around. Zuko added to the fun by creating small fire obstacles she had to maneuver her ice animals through without melting them.

That was a night none of them would be forgetting for a long long time.

                                          ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x oc #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #atla #the thread of fate

[upsidedownwithsteve]

We Tried The World CH1.

THE MASTERLIST SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS, 287 MILES FROM HOME.

Steve picked you up a few doors down from your house at six o’clock in the morning the next day. 

Hawkins was still asleep, the whole town nursing a sleepiness that only came from a party that everyone had joined in on the night before. The morning air smelled like old bonfire smoke, the leftover fizz from fireworks and the sky was lilac and peach, the air hazy. 

You didn’t say much when you walked towards his car, the BMW idling by the park on the corner of your street. You’d told him to park away from your house, to let your aunt sleep through what would’ve been an awkward goodbye. 

You left a note on your bed instead, one that you knew she’d understand. After all, she’d been there through everything. Hawkins wasn’t home and you were never supposed to have ended up there. 

Steve hopped out and put your rucksack in the trunk for you and when you dropped yourself into the passenger seat beside him, he smiled and handed you a couple of cassettes to pick from. The windows were down, his tank was full and the height of summer was creeping into the car. Everything smelled like cut grass and coffee and boy. 

When you chanced a glance at your driver, he looked the way you felt, like he was at peace with what was about to happen, like it was all finally okay. 

His cheek was still angry, pink and lilac turning to blue and red overnight and he licked his split lip a little self consciously upon feeling your eyes on him. 

You thought he might tell you to quit it, to stop staring but Steve was soft around the edges, maybe from sleep, maybe from the relief you both felt when you approached the edge of town. The sign that told you both you were leaving Hawkins edged closer as Steve drove, the mocking “come back soon!” staring at you both. 

It felt like a challenge, it felt like a dare. 

Steve spoke then, the engine thrumming underneath you both as he flicked honey brown eyes towards you. 

“You sure?”

You stared at the road ahead before finding the boy’s gaze, a quiet determination coming over you. You think he saw it, or maybe he felt it -  like the air around you both changed -  because he smiled, a little crooked because of his cut but it made you grin back. 

The sense of adventure overpowered the unknown, the thrill of something new and all of the what ifs made your heart beat a little faster and for the first time in the longest time, you felt like you weren’t sleepwalking through the day. 

Morning had hardly broken and the sky was still a watercolour wash of pastel, but you were wide awake. 

You nodded and Steve’s grin was blinding, summer and sun in a smile. 

You drove as the sun came up, until the skies turned from peach to blue, the air growing warmer and the view outside your window had less houses. Steve hit the highway and picked up some speed, windows still down and the wind rushing at your faces as you left behind the old water tower, the trailer park on the outskirts of town, Mr Lumson’s old farm. 

Hawkins led out into open fields, green and gold and yellow, flat land broken up by old barns, forgotten tractors, a paddock of horses and cows. The road took you through other towns, some smaller, some bigger, gas stations with only one working pump, a vendor on the side of the road selling fruit and homemade iced tea. 

It all felt a little surreal, like you were daydreaming in the best kind of way. Because the wind threaded through your fingers as you held your hand out of the open window, it nipped at your open palm and you could smell the fresh air, the pine trees. Because you were sitting in the front seat of Steve Harrington’s car and he was driving you far away from home. You weren't even sure where you were going, you didn’t think Steve really knew either, but everything you loved was packed into the duffle bag in the boy’s trunk - and there wasn’t much. 

Some clothes, a few mixtapes, a few half empty toiletries in a make up bag you’d taken from underneath your aunt’s bathroom sink. A tin of pencils, your sketchbook, a few rings - all gold, some important, some not. All the money that you had. It wasn’t like the boy was a stranger, he wasn’t, not really. No one could feel like a stranger in a town like Hawkins, it was too small, people were too close and someone’s grandma always knew someone else’s cousin. You’d grown up with Steve, not by his side, but in the same circle - he’d been in all your classes from kindergarten to high school, sharing friends and the same drug dealer.

You were friendly with Robin Buckley, your aunt and you lived a few doors down from Nancy Wheeler, you babysat for the Sinclair siblings before Lucas moved up to high school and you were both invited to the same parties. You knew he worked in Family Video, you knew he’d chosen not to go to college after graduation. You knew his parents were always gone, you knew he was softer than he seemed and you knew that the reason for his back eye was most likely his father.

You knew he kissed like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs, like he was trying to tell you all his secrets.

And maybe, despite not knowing his favourite colour, his favourite food, his favourite song, you had the feeling you were more similar than you ever would’ve guessed, that you both shared that awful pulsing ache in your chest that there wasn’t a home for either of you anywhere. 

So when Steve pulled into a parking lot just off of the highway, somewhere near the edge of Illinois, you didn’t hesitate to nod when he asked if you were hungry, to follow him into the old diner with its neon sign and pink walls. It was nearing eight o’clock and the world was a little more alive now, the roads busier, the diner smelling like coffee and maple bacon. 

You found it easy to slide into a booth across from the boy, easier to let your gaze meet his, small smiles playing on both of your mouths. You ordered a tea, Steve a coffee and a plate of pancakes each and when the waitress scratched down your choices, she clicked her tongue, smiled and called you both a ‘cute little pair.’ 

No one really spoke until there was caffeine in your systems, bones warmed by hot drinks and the drizzle of syrup that you licked from lips and forks. It was a nice kind of silence whilst you ate, the kind you were sure you could get used to, the kind that could carry you across states, across the country. 

It was even nicer when Steve wiped his mouth with his napkin, tapped your foot with his underneath the table and raised a brow in question.

“So, where d’you wanna go?”

“Don’t you have somewhere in mind?” you asked him. This was his plan after all, he’d been the one to ask you, to invite you along. 

Steve shook his head slow, shoulders shrugging as if the destination had never occurred to him.

You sipped the last of your tea, watching the boy over the rim of the cup and he could tell you were taking your time to think. There was an ache in your chest that felt like the answer, that felt a little like the idea of home.

“California,” you said, voice softer than you wanted it to be. “Carmel-by-the-Sea.”

The sounds of the diner filled the silence between you two as Steve considered your response. The jingle of the cash drawer, spoons stirring in sugar, the pop of the grill behind the open kitchen window. 

But then the boy nodded and took another sip of his coffee. There was a soft sincerity colouring his voice, his pretty features, when he asked you: “What’s there?”

You felt a little embarrassed, so you looked at your almost empty plate, sticky syrup on the cheap ceramic, a quarter of your last pancake that Steve had helped you eat. 

“The ocean,” you mumbled, nose scrunched as you chanced a glance back up at him. “Never seen it before.”

You didn’t want to tell him that you hadn’t actually left Hawkins since you moved there when you were three years old. You thought that maybe Steve knew that, that he could tell, that he could guess. Because you were living with your aunt, a woman who didn’t really care, but the only family member left in your life that cared enough. Holiday’s weren’t a thing.

“There’s a lot of ocean before Carmel-by-the-Sea,” Steve smiled, a little teasing, a little curious. “What’s there?” he asked again.

Your lips twisted, a downturn of your mouth that you tried to hide because he had figured you out way too quickly. This stranger who wasn't a stranger, this boy who wasn’t really a friend. He was your last kiss though, your companion for the next who knew how many weeks. 

But still, it was day one and you were still guarding your secrets, yourself. So you shrugged as if you didn’t know the answer, like there wasn’t one to give and Steve was smart enough not to press. You turned to him instead, sticky fork in your hand, wielded like a weapon that you needed to protect yourself with.

You thought of all the questions you wanted to ask him and they rattled in your head, in your chest, making you feel panicked. You didn’t want to upset him, you didn’t want to cross any lines that hadn’t been set yet.

Why are you leaving town? Does your parents know you’re gone? Do they care? Did your dad hit you? Why did you kiss me? Are we gonna talk about that?

“Why me?” you asked instead and you cringed a little when it came out like an argument, voice a little too hard and harsh. 

But Steve just smiled again, fingertip tracing around the rim of his now empty mug and you were almost sure that there was a faint flush of pink high on his cheeks. He shrugged a little shyly before he flicked honey brown eyes up to yours. There it was again, that look, that unbearably soft sincere look, like he wasn’t about to judge you. 

“You’re the only other person I know with nothin’ to lose.”

You were a little speechless.

Another half shrug, a lopsided smile that matched the morning sun that was rising in the window behind him.

“The same as me.”

Something in your chest stuttered. Maybe your heart stopped, just for a half a second, maybe less, because something skipped a beat at the realisation that the boy knew you more than you thought he did. It’s why you told him yes, why you nodded your head in that strangers kitchen the night before, lips a breath away from Steve’s, both of you lit up in red, green and gold. 

Because with a dad that wasn’t around when you were born, a twenty something stoner with three jobs and no time for a kid, you weren’t sure you knew what it was like to have something that you’d miss when it was gone. It only took three years for your mom to feel the same way, bored of her daughter and the life in a small town in Virginia. You weren’t even sure which town. 

Too young to remember it as a home, your mom had dropped you with her sister in Hawkins, an aunt that had no time for a kid, but took you in nonetheless. You were sure there had been a false promise of a quick return. Your mom telling your aunt that she just needed a minute, just some time to get her head straight, didn’t she understand? You were too much hard work. You were difficult.

She told the other woman a week, two tops. And then you were celebrating your fourth birthday, your fifth, your sixth and every one after that with your aunt who never wanted you but never had the heart to say. She bought you a cake from the bakery on Main every year, bought you a new book wrapped in red paper and some cash in a card.

And every year you smiled and thanked her, brushed a kiss across her cheek and took a slice of cake to your room, where you watched the sprinkles melt and colour the white icing, where you pushed the dollars into the tin underneath your mattress. 

It had never been enough to buy a car, or a plane ticket. It wasn’t enough to take you where you wanted to go, not even close. But it could help you buy gas and food, maybe a motel room here and there. ‘Cause now you had Steve and that was a statement that you were sure you’d never get used to saying. 

You smiled at the boy, a soft laugh leaving your lips in a humourless huff and you nodded, pushing the last square of pancake around your plate.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “nothing to lose.”

“Do your parents know that you’re doing… this?” you gestured between the two of you, glanced out of the windows to his maroon coloured car sitting in the dusty parking lot. You were already both two hours from home, maybe more. “Do they know you’re gone?”

Steve grinned and you could tell it was sharp, without any happiness. The boy sat opposite you with his still sleep mussed hair, big brown eyes and nothing more than a similar sized rucksack in his trunk, right beside yours.

He thought of his room, empty and blue, a couple of books taken from his shelves and a pillow from his bed - the flattest one, old and in a chequered case, smelling like a home that was only really a house. 

The kitchen was empty when he left, the living room too, the only framed photos were shots taken in a studio, white backgrounds, pressed shirts, his father’s cold hand on his shoulder. Steve stopped smiling in the third one. 

He’d locked the door, stared at the key as he stood on his porch and toyed with the idea of taking it off of the chain it shared with the key to his car. He could post it, leave it on the doormat in the hall for his parents to come home to. He didn’t know when they’d return. He didn’t know when he’d come back, if he would at all.

Steve didn’t know where he was going. 

He posted his resignation into the letterbox of Family Video on the way to your house, slowed down when he drove through Robin’s street, wondering if the upset would be worth getting to give her one last hug. He’d spent the night before on the phone to her, hours and hours of frustration and a little anger, upset and unshed tears before he finally got his best friend to understand.

She made him promise he’d come back. She begged him. So Steve nodded even though the girl couldn’t see. He swallowed the lump in his throat and told her yes, that he’d come back, that he promised.

Steve really hoped he didn’t break it. 

He thought about telling you that his parents wouldn’t care, that his parent’s probably wouldn’t even notice. The landline could go unanswered for weeks on end and his parent’s wouldn’t think to get an early flight home. He could drive to Europe and back, take some trains, some boats, swim across the English Channel and return home before they noticed he was gone. But all of that sounded a little sad, and Steve reckoned there was plenty of time for sadness later.

So for now, he shrugged, waved a hand dismissively and tugged his wallet from his jean pocket. He smiled when you chucked a few bills on the table first, not bothering to argue or play polite, ‘cause you were both more than aware money was going to be tight if you were going to make it across the country together. And besides, he told himself, this wasn’t a date. This was an escape and it didn’t matter if he knew that you kissed like you wanted to prove something, that you tasted like cherries and something else sweet. 

He wasn’t gonna talk about that.

You both crossed the border into Illinois without much fanfare, the windows rolled down and the highway stretching out long ahead of you. The fields on either side of you were undisturbed, the sun blazing down on wide, green pastures, acres of gold wheat and every now and then, you’d pass an old barn that sat forgotten. The sign that welcomed you to the new state seemed a little monumental, despite the fact that the green backing of it was sun bleached and faded, but it meant that you and Steve were no longer in Indiana, no longer home. 

It felt good, it felt dizzying and with every mile Steve drove you both across the state line, your smile grew and so did Steve’s. He was beaming when you glanced over at him, hair wild from the wind that funnelled through the open windows, the car going just a tiny bit faster that it was supposed to. But you merely turned up the music, fingers gentle on the dial, whatever mixtape Steve had made pumping through the speakers with static and crackles.

It made the boy beam, and he matched the summer outside, warmth and sunshine in his chest, a new heatwave trapped in his eyes, an adventure waiting on his lips. He was a sight to behold and it made your chest burst, so you blinked, turned back looking out the window instead.

But you couldn’t help the burst of laughter that ripped prettily from your throat when Steve started singing, not all that badly, you noted. He garnered your attention once more, like he wanted it, like he liked it. He didn’t care that you were watching, that you were staring, his hands drumming out a beat on the wheel, a little off rhythm, his hair in his eyes, chin tilted up to the sun as he crooned. 

“There's a room where the light won't find you!” The boy was almost yelling to be heard over the roar of the car, and you were laughing through strands of wind whipped hair. “Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down!”

You sang the next line with him, much quieter and shyer than Steve did. But the words held the same weight to them whether they were whispered or yelled, and goosebumps tracked up your bare arms as you let them leave your lips. 

“When they do I'll be right behind you.”

Maybe it meant nothing, maybe it was just a song, just a band that Steve liked, that he put on a mixtape. He was just a boy, an almost friend, someone you kissed just once. Just a boy who asked you to run away with him, a boy with honey brown eyes, messy hair, freckles that looked like the start of summer on his cheeks. 

Maybe it meant nothing. It was just a song, you told yourself again. But then Steve looked over at you and grinned again, that same slow, soft smile you were already becoming so used to. Maybe it could mean everything. 

You rolled through small towns and dust roads, listening to Tears For Fears and wondering if your aunt had woken up and found your note yet. The morning became afternoon and the heat rose with the sun, heating the asphalt, the air, you. 

It had been over an hour, almost two, when you turned to Steve, cheek pushed to the fabric of the seat. Your gaze settled over him, familiarising yourself with the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. He had some stubble now, a shadow to his cheeks that hadn’t been there the night he kissed you. Pouty lips, impossibly pink and soft - easy to kiss, you remembered. Eyes that kissed in the corners, always sleepy looking, thick lashes, honey and brown sugar in the sun. Hair that was always a little wild, curling at the nape of his neck, around his ears.

Steve Harrington was a very pretty boy, you summarised. 

You cleared your throat when he caught you staring, a pair of Ray-Ban’s perched over his eyes now and despite the dark glass, you could see the way his eyes stuck on yours for just a second, before the road stole back his attention.

“So uh, what’s the plan?” you asked, trying for light and casual. 

“Cali, remember? Carmel, the ocean, right?” Steve looked confused, and the pucker between his brows only deepened when you laughed, not unkindly.

“We’re a long way from there, hot shot,” you smiled, gesturing to the road ahead of you both. “What’re we doing in the meantime?”

Steve parted his lips, thinking. Then he laughed too, soft like you did, and waved a hand. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Why, uh, why don’t we stop at town soon? We can get some supplies, take a walk, find somewhere to stay and figure out where we wanna go?”

You nodded before rooting around in the glovebox, nosy and entirely unapologetic about it. You scoffed, eyeing the boy with an air of disbelief. 

“What?” Steve asked.

“Do you even have a map, Harrington?”

“No.”

----------

It’s how you and Steve found yourselves in Springfield, a bustling town that was the second choice to Chicago, or first, where Steve was concerned. The boy had wrinkled his nose when you’d suggested it offhandedly, and he’d made a comment about avoiding the cities that were too big, too loud, too much.

Steve wanted quiet, he wanted something slow, peaceful. He wanted rolling hills, he wanted valley’s, he wanted to see green and blue, he wanted sunsets, sunrises, he wanted to see the stars, home cooked meals in tiny diners, coffee on the hood of his car in front of a lake. 

He wanted everything his own home couldn’t offer him, he wanted to get away. He smiled when you just nodded and said ‘okay’, like giving the boy what he wanted was the easiest thing in the world. 

So Steve parked up on a street corner in the middle of town, the sidewalks busy enough that no one stared at the two of you, busy enough that no one realised that you didn’t belong. But the crowds and bustle meant that Steve stuck close to your side, a hand always hovering over the small of your back, scared to touch but unwilling to lose you in a new place. 

The streets were lined with diners and some  small businesses; hairdressers, barbers, bookshops and nail salons. There was a fancy restaurant or two, a dentist's surgery, a pharmacy that looked straight out of the 1950’s and a car garage that sat on the other corner, four gas pumps and a bored looking attendant. 

The sidewalks were lined with small trees, striped canopies over the window displays, neon signs over twenty four hour diners and motels showing their vacancies. 

It was enough for the first day, you thought. Enough to keep you busy, enough to get started. So you tapped Steve’s shoulder and pointed to a small store across the street, one that looked like you could find what you needed in it. 

It seemed like a knee jerk reaction when Steve’s fingers slid gently around your wrist as you crossed the road. You didn’t pull away, you didn’t say anything but he was blushing when you looked at him, the skin where he’d touched you burning in response. 

He gave you a sheepish smile when he let go, pink on his cheeks and one hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. He didn’t look at you when he explained, “sorry, I uh, I hang about with kids too much.”

There was no time to respond before Steve was shuffling into the shop, the bell above the door tinkling gently. You managed to find a roadmap of the states, each major highway inked in bright red and you traced route sixty six, a small smile on your face. 

Your finger ran over the folds and creases, found the Pacific Coast highway and stared at the blue on the page, the dips in the lines that showed off beaches and coves.  

Steve came to stand at your shoulder, head above your own as he watched you stare. He saw your smile, the almost hopeful look in your eyes. 

His voice was quiet and soft when he said, “it’ll take us what, two weeks? Maybe three depending on where you wanna stop off?”

“Me?” You scrunched your nose, embarrassed to have been given so much say in a trip that wasn’t ever really your idea. “What about you? Aren't there places you’d like to go to? To see?”

Steve looked a little taken aback, like he’d never really thought about it. He shrugged, gazed back down at the map in your hands and moved a little closer so he could stare at the states, the roads, the lakes marked out in patches of blue. 

“I didn’t really think of where I wanted to go,” he told you quietly, “just that I knew I wanted to leave.”

You were quiet as you processed the boy’s words, your eyes a little sad as you looked back over your shoulder at him, at his bruised eye and cut lip. So you nodded, like you understood, folded the map back up and placed it on the cash desk before you grabbed a small book from the display next to the till, one that was titled ‘1001 Things To See In America.’

Steve didn’t say anything but you saw him smile, that shy stretch of his lips, the same one he gave you after he kissed you. It showed off a dimple on his right cheek, it made his lashes kiss at the corners, nose a little wrinkled. 

He looked really pretty. 

He grabbed some bottles of soda as you wrestled with your purse, stretching over your shoulder again to place them on the corner, a big bag of chips quickly following with some dollar bills. Steve grabbed the bag of snacks, took the book you picked and tucked it under his arm, grinning at you as he headed for the door. 

“Ready?” 

The question took your breath away, because it was so much more than one word. It was possibilities, it was a leap of faith, it was a new state, a different adventure. It was mountains, valleys, lakes, oceans, wide roads, wider canyons, the chance to see something new.  

It was absolutely terrifying. But you nodded and followed Steve out the door. 

—————

“Did you know that Kansas has the biggest ball of twine?”

Steve was stretched out on the grass of Lincoln Park, the book you picked in his hands as he grinned at you over its pages. 

You snorted. “Sounds riveting. Here,” you threw him a pen from your bag, taking your sketchbook out with it. “Start circling stuff that you wanna see, but no fifty foot balls of twine, please.”

“It’s actually only ten feet,” Steve told you, flicking through the pages absentmindedly. 

“That’s disappointing.”

It was the boy’s turn to laugh and he took a sip of his soda before he tilted his chin at the paper you were holding, craning his neck to inspect. 

“D’you draw?”

You flushed: your immediate reaction to being asked that question because it wasn’t something you showed off. You shrugged, held the pages a little closer to your chest and leaned back against the oak tree behind you. 

“Not well,” you muttered, squinting your eyes against the sun. You watched as Steve watched you, how he took in your closed off body, the protective hand you held over the blank page. “S’just something to do, y’know?”

So he didn’t press, didn’t push, just merely nodded and went back to the book, tracing the letters of a title you couldn’t see. It was peaceful, easy, a bag of spicy chips laid open between you, your knees tucked up so you could put pen to paper and sketch out the mess of the boy’s hair in secret. 

If Steve knew you were drawing him, he didn’t say. But he had to know, ‘cause your gaze was on him as much as it was your book and every now and then, your eyes met and he smiled. 

“What about The Ozarks?” He said, pushing the book over to you, his finger tapped a photo of sprawling forests, cerulean blue springs hidden amongst them. There were people in kayaks, swimming, jumping from cliff tops. “Looks nice, right?”

You hummed in agreement, nodding. “It does, it looks super pretty.” You twisted your pen to your paper, drew in the small mole on his cheek. “That’s Missouri, yeah?”

He nodded, taking the pen you’d given in and circling something on the page, bookmarking it for later. 

“About six hours away, if you wanna take the scenic route,” he mumbled, the map in his other hand, the edges of it curling in the light breeze. 

“Always take the scenic route, Harrington,” you commented lightly, your lips twisting in concentration as you shaded in the slope of the boy’s jaw. “That sounds like a plan though, at least, a good start to one.”

“Noted,” he smirked and after a few beats of silence, he stretched his leg over the grass to yours, nudging at your foot with his trainer. He nodded at the paper that was still tucked against your knees, hidden against your chest. “Do I get to see?”

You baulked. 

“Since it's me and all,” he grinned. 

Weirdly, you knew that if you said no, Steve wouldn’t protest or argue. You weren’t sure how, but you were so, so sure of that. Maybe that’s why you chewed at your lip and turned the page, letting him take in the dark lines and soft shadows of his own face. 

You’d drawn him from the torso up, t-shirt crumpled against the grass, hair wild from the drive, from the wind, his eyes downcast at the book he was holding. 

Steve stared, silent before he coughed out an almost embarrassed sound laughing, eyes flicking between you and the page. 

“Wow,” he mumbled, leaning closer to look. You could feel your cheeks heat up, the flush spreading across your chest. “Bruises and all, huh?”

You grimaced, regretting shading in the cut and marks around his eyes and lip, pulling back the paper and wondering if you’d crossed a line. 

“Sorry! I’m- fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-” you were rambling and it was awful. God, you felt awful. 

“No! No, no,” Steve assured you, “don’t be, it’s amazing, shit… it’s really good.”

You were burning. “Thanks,” you mumbled, staring at anything but the boy. “You have a good face.”

Steve grinned. 

“To draw,” you told him, voice a little too sharp and high. “Fuck.”

But Steve was already laughing, although it didn’t feel like it was aimed at you and the sound wasn’t cruel. He didn’t really look at you when he gathered up his things, the map and the book, his empty soda bottle. 

“You have a good face too.”

You were pretty sure you were still flushed by the time late evening crawled around, dinner was in an old diner with sticky leather booths, a fuschia sign outside that blinked and flickered as the sun went down. It took a little while after that to find a motel with vacancies, the two of you driving around in the warm night air, the windows still rolled down. 

The town smelled like leftover cinnamon from bakeries that were closing, fumes from exhausts, garlic and rosemary from the restaurants that only got busier the more you drove around the block. 

Eventually you spotted a sign a few streets down, close to the park you’d spent your afternoon in. A pretty, baby pink building with a red sign above it, green curtains lining the windows and the word “VACANCIES” flashing at you both from the main door. 

So Steve parked the car and brushed you away when he took both your bags out the trunk, slinging them over one shoulder like it was no big deal. Night was stretching in and despite not being all that far from home, the excitement of a new town, a new state, was starting to wear you both down. 

Sleep tugged at your eyes as the stars came out and once again, Steve guided you into the quiet motel with a gentle hand that didn’t quite touch your back. 

He spoke quietly and politely to the woman at the desk, looking at you questioningly when she asked how many rooms. The boy sputtered and stopped, eyes in yours as he let you take the lead. 

There it was again, that heat in your cheeks that seemed to be becoming a frequent feeling around Steve Harrington. But he waited patiently, the woman less so, and you sounded far too quiet when you said, “one, please. A twin.”

Steve didn’t say anything as you took the keys from the desk, slid the money you’d both put together into the woman’s hand. It wasn’t until you were both standing in the too small elevator that you smiled at him a little sheepishly, arms crossed over your chest and said:

“I didn’t wanna be in a room alone.”

The boy nodded and smiled, like it was okay, like it was fine. And maybe it was. ‘Cause he put your bag down on the single bed for you when you entered the room, his on the other and told you that you could use the shower first, like this was the most normal Tuesday night. 

The summer heat, leftover sunscreen and the hours in the car were sticking to your skin and the thought of a cool shower and some fresh pyjamas seemed far too enticing, so you did just that. 

The spray was a welcome sensation, a little weak, a little pour than a dribble but it was better than you could’ve hoped for considering you had no plans to even be in a tiny motel in Illinois until yesterday at ten o’clock. 

The party seemed an age ago, in someone's kitchen on Hawthorne Street, groups of strangers, some friends, colours in the sky and spilled beer on the kitchen tiles. A boy, familiar face, a new kiss, asking you to leave town. 

You stared at the baby pink tiles, eyes a little wide as the reality of the situation set in. Guilt rolled in your stomach as you realised your aunt would have most definitely found your note by now. 

Maybe she’d feel as free as you did.  

The buzz of the television played through the thin walls as you got dried and dressed, skin still damp as you pulled on old shorts, a too big shirt that had a photo of Prince on the front, some splashes of dried paint on the hem. 

Steve was lounging on his bed when you padded out barefoot, suddenly a lot more shy than you thought you would be. But he smiled and gestured to a bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you, brushing gently past your shoulder with his own towel as he went to wash the day away. 

The low lights in the room were a little too warm, pink tinged and making everything look rosy. Steve had cracked a window, enough to let the summer air in, a cooler breeze now the sun had gone down, the sky streaked with leftover indigo clouds and you could hear the buzz of cicadas from the park behind you. 

It felt a little dreamlike, a little surreal. 

And then as you were tucked into bed, the sheets a little scratchy, Steve walked back out in shorts and a threadbare shirt, hair damp and falling in his eyes. 

He pulled a pillow from his bag, a sad, flat looking one that still had its pillowcase on it from home. He chucked it onto his bed before tumbling in after it and he turned to look at you, expression almost unsure. 

“You okay?”

You shuffled, cheek pressed to the motel pillow and between you both, the light flickered once, twice, sending peach coloured shadows across the room. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, scared to break the silence that surrounded you. “How come?”

Steve shrugged, body lazy against the mattress and he stretched, humming in content as he did. “I dunno,” he whispered back, voice scratchy and soft with sleep. “I guess I just wanted to ask. Make sure you still want to do this, y’know?”

You smiled, appreciating the gesture, and you blinked at him, sleep tugging at you more and more. “Yeah, ‘course. The Ozarks right?”

The boy grinned and nodded, eyes shy and gazing at you from under his lashes. He pushed at his sheets with his toes, too warm, shoving them down his legs. You tried not to stare, not at the muscles in his thighs, the small scar on his ankle that shone silver in the low light. 

It was quiet until Steve whispered ‘goodnight’, leaning out of his bed to flick the light off, bathing you both in black. Outside, the town kept going, soft music coming from somewhere unknown, the murmured conversation from some people at the vending machines in the parking lot below your room. 

You don’t know why you asked it. Maybe it was because it was dark and you were suddenly a little unsure, maybe you just wanted to know a little more about the boy in the bed next to you - like you could collect some more pockets of the boy’s life, like you could find out enough to call him a friend, maybe, eventually. 

“Hey Steve?” You waited until the boy made a little noise in the dark, signalling that he was still awake. “Tell me a secret?”

There was a beat of silence, one that made the room feel warmer, summer sneaking in from the outside. You heard the sheets shuffle, the rasp of skin on cotton. 

“My dad gave me this black eye.”

His words were heavy, the way only a secret could feel. But it sounded like there was some relief colouring Steve’s whisper, like he felt lighter the minute he said the words. 

“I’m sorry,” your response felt silly no matter how much you meant it. 

“Tell me one too.”

You swallowed, paused, thinking. The hot prick of tears wet the corner of one eye and you were thankful for the dark, for the night. You brushed it away until it smeared into the mess of your hair, right by your ear. 

“Uh, I realised last week that,” you coughed, cleared your throat, sounding more strained than you wanted to, “that I can’t really remember what my mom looks like. Not unless I looked at a photo.”

More silence, still warm, maybe hotter from the burn that lit up your skin. It felt a little like shame, maybe guilt, like your three year old mind was supposed to cling to the memory of the woman who left you, like you were supposed to remember the shape of her nose, the smell of her perfume, the colour that hid in the middle of her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said too, and he sounded like he meant it as much as you did. 

You both slept after that, each other’s secrets clutched to your chest and you dreamt of roadmaps and a blue, blue lake, where a brown eyed boy was waiting for you.

----

KO-FI ♡

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harringon fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic

[kaaedey]

genshin comfort masterlist

there were too many so I made a seperate post

SINGLE CHARACTER

Taking a blow for Aether during the Golden House fight

s/o comforting aether after he suffers a nightmare

Reader wakes up with a nightmare that leaves them crying/panicking. (venti)

Stormy Weather (venti)

Proud of Your Smile (bennett)

coming home after a bad day (bennett)

Diluc comforts a depressed reader (diluc)

Comfort HCs (diluc)

abusive parents (diluc)

sick (diluc)

making up after a fight (diluc)

seeing you get hit (diluc)

diluc is worried when you come home late from an expedition, you do all you can to comfort him

Bruised In Silence (diluc)

Just Enough (diluc)

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Diluc Caring For a Sick Reader

Diluc cuddles after reader has had a long, rough day

dont go. (diluc)

touch (diluc)  

bleeding (diluc)  

really bad week (diluc)

Harsh Words (diluc)

enough (diluc)

I Love You So (diluc)

when it's lonely (diluc)

when you sleep on the couch after an argument (diluc)

wipe your tears (kaeya)

he’s hurt (kaeya)

comfort (kaeya)

when you hold me (kaeya)

taking a hit for him (kaeya)

seeing you get hit (kaeya)

Comfort HCs (kaeya)

comfort hcs (kaeya)

Overworked (kaeya)

its all a mask (kaeya)

hypothermia (kaeya)

taking care of your fever (kaeya)

kaeya comforts you in a moment of weakness

Sick Darling (kaeya)

Protecting his s/o from another man (albedo)

Overtime (albedo)

Taking care of a weak overworker reader (albedo)

Albedo wakes up from a grisly nightmare

s/o who has health issues/poor health (albedo)

reactions (albedo)

in health and sickness (albedo)

NOTHING LEFT TO SAY (albedo)

sweet nothings (albedo)

seeing you get hit (albedo)

lab accident (albedo)

When you get sick easily (venti)

He Comes Home to Find You Crying (venti)

insecure reader (childe)

Nights like these (childe)

holy sick (childe)

Childe promised to love you always, but sometime changed when Lumine step foot into Liyue

you get injured (childe)

when you get sick easily (childe)

seeing you get hit (childe)

holding on by a thread (childe)

reader is feeling insecure (childe)

alarm (childe)

argument (childe)

someone has hurt reader in the past (childe)

Where did these bruises come from (childe)

accidentally hurting you during an argument (childe)

patching you up (childe)

Childe’s Anger

you get injured (xiao)

getting hurt (xiao)

Harsh Words (xiao)

His Reaction to Your Ex (xiao)

Fainting HCS (xiao)

seeing you get hit (xiao)

in your dreams (xiao)

again, if I called out your name? (xiao)

he finds his s/o bandaging their wounds and gets into a fight with them until he confesses he’s scared of losing them (xiao)

harsh words (xiao)

sudden fright (xiao)

watching you get injured (xiao)

ice cold. (xiao)

Xiao Comforting you and your doubtness

Symphony for the broken (xiao)

She is my woman. If you touch her even with the tip of your finger, this sword will cut your throat (xiao)

Insecurity (zhongli)

seeing you get hit (zhongli)

Guizhong (zhongli)

no vision (zhongli)  

Memories Like Dust (zhongli)

arguments (zhongli)

burnout (zhongli)

lover’s morning tea (gaming)

When you think he doesnt love you anymore (ayato)

2:28 am (ayato)

look at me (ayato)

Hold me Tight (ayato)

Coming Home Late (kazuha)

letting you cry into his chest (kazuha)

argument repercussions (kazuha)

Safe In His Arms (kazuha)

Taking care of sick reader (kazuha)

kazuha confesses his love to you, but you don't take it seriously (kazuha)

Comforting you after a nightmare (Thoma)

wait for me, okay? (Thoma)

you're insecure about yourself (Itto)

If someone is trying to ambush you he will hold you close, and whisper that you’ll be ok (cyno)

Desert Scum (cyno)

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦 (cyno)

taking care of sick reader (scaramouche)

calming reader down (scaramouche)

Please hold me (scaramouche)

Bandages (scaramouche)

Scaramouche Finding out That You’re Being Abused

his s/o being harmed because of their relationship (scaramouche)

The Meaning of Tears (scaramouche)

kissing his insecurities away (scaramouche)

Oh no. Please don't cry (scaramouche)

are you jealous yet? (scaramouche)

Idiocy (scaramouche)

not what it seams (scaramouche)  

forevermore (scaramouche)  

Tainted (scaramouche)

how stupid it must be to get unwell (scaramouche)

kiss it better! (scaramouche)

s/o who passes out (scaramouche)

saving scaramouche after the battle

You're finally home. (tighnari)

Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? (tighnari)

take it easy (tighnari)

Am I Annoying? (tighnari) 

Comforting You After a Bad Day (tighnari)

misunderstanding (tighnari)

you get injured while on duty as a forest ranger and tighnari isn’t so happy about it

Wrapped up (tighnari)

intense phobia of anything medical related (dottore)

Dottore treating your fatal wounds

Dottore with a very sick s/o

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 (Alhaitham)

just look at me, forget everything else (Alhaitham)

taking off your ring during a fight (Alhaitham)

silent treatment (Alhaitham)

when you sleep on the couch after an argument (Alhaitham)

affirming word. (Alhaitham)

rigor (Alhaitham)

alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.

how to woo the acting grand sage 101 (Alhaitham)

burned out (Alhaitham)

𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (Dottore)

fragile reader (Dottore)

Patching Your Wounds (kaveh)

It's raining again (Neuvilette)

injured (Neuvilette)

Melancholy (Neuvilette)

arguments and odd positions (Lyney)

A Slight of Hand Makes Colour (Lyney)

when he couldn’t perform (Lyney)

lunch break (wriothesley)

you're mad at him (wriothesley)

wrio’s spouse winds up in prison

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101 (wriothesley)

you're dating who!? (wriothesley)

feverish (wriothesley)

i'm unglued, thanks to you (wriothesley)

hugs and kisses (wriothesley)

just to sit outside your door. (wriothesley)

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

he boys witnessed the reader’s panic attack for the first time (Aether, Kaeya, Razor, and Chongyun)

comfort hcs (venti, kaeya, xiao) (aether, baal, ganyu, childe)

take me into your loving arms (diluc, xiao, zhongli, kaeya, childe)

Period comfort (Aether, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Venti, Razor, Bennet, Xiao, Zhongli, Kazuha, Ayato, Gorou, Itto, Heizou)

Helping you on your period (Diluc, Zhongli, Childe and Baizhu)

reader who's on their period (alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari and cyno)

just a little something for the pain (Albedo, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Cyno, Gorou, Kaveh, Kazuha, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli)

They comfort you when you’re down (Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Thoma, Xiao, Itto, Kazuha, Gorou, Tomo)

s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown (Scaramouche, Albedo, Childe)

how would you like your hug? (Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Kaeya, Kazuha, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Xiao and Zhongli)

words of comfort (diluc, wanderer, tartaglia, xiao)

comforting you (ayato, thoma, and scaramouche)

Comfort (Albedo and Bennett)

comfort (Childe, La Signora and Scaramouche)

How They Comfort You (Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Thoma)

how they comfort you ( ayaka, gorou, kazuha, thoma, yoimiya)

comforting you after a bad day (diluc, thoma, kazuha, childe and xiao)

Worried (Aether, Albedo, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli)

touchy (thoma, xiao, gorou)

when you tell them about your boundaries after being teased that they’re breaking up with you (kaeya, thoma)

It's going to be okay. I know things are tough for you right now, but I promise you that it will pass over (Albedo, Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Childe, Xiao, Venti, and Thoma)

What they’re like comforting you (Childe, Zhongli, Xiao)

Thank you for being my safe space (Diluc, Childe, Heizou, Xiao, and Kazuha)

Comforting s/o (diluc and kaeya)

Tired & overworked (aether, xiao, scaramouche)

don’t forget to eat! (kazuha, heizou, cyno, tighnari, wanderer)

When you forget to eat (tighnari, alhaitham, kaeya, gorou, heizou)

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 (Kazuha, Scara and Xiao)

When you’re tired (Thoma, Diluc, Xiao, Kazuha, Itto, Childe)

comfort headcanons (childe, diluc, kaeya, and zhongli)

how they react when you get stood up (diluc, kaeya, childe)

comfort when you’re down (venti, baizhu, childe, and zhongli)

how they comfort their s/o (dainsleif, kaeya, zhongli, and Diluc)

solace in one's embrace (diluc, kaeya, albedo, childe, zhongli, xiao)

s/o with anxiety (childe, kaeya, Dainsleif, and xiao)

Their favorite ways to comfort you (Neuvillette, Childe, Alhaitham)

touch starved (xiao, heizou, kazuha, wanderer, aether, venti)

comforting you when you cry (aether, albedo, amber, ayaka, baal, barbara, beidou, bennett, childe, chongyun, dainsleif, diluc, diona, eula, fischl, ganyu, gorou, hu tao, jean, kazuha, kaeya, keqing, klee, kokomi, lisa, lumine, miko, mona, ningguang, noelle, qiqi, razor, rosaria, sara, sayu, scaramouche, sucrose, thoma, venti, xiangling, xiao, xingqiu, xinyan, yanfei, yoimiya, zhongli)

His reaction to seeing you cry (Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli)

Crystal tears (Thoma, Xiao, Scaramouche, Itto)

When You Cry (Aether, Albedo, Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli, and Childe)

Genshin boys reaction to finding you crying due to a person (Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Scaramouche)

comforting the reader after they cry because of their family (zhongli, xiao)

Comforting You After Making You Cry (Diluc and Xiao)

are you leaving? are you leaving me? (Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli)

the genshin men find you crying in solitude (diluc, kazuha, thoma, scaramouche)

Sudden Tears (Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya)

when they see your tears (Venti, Albedo, Childe, Diluc)

when they see you cry for the first time (Diluc, Kaeya)

His reaction to seeing you cry for the first time (Albedo, Arataki Itto)

seeing you cry for the first time (xiao, zhongli, scara, cyno, alhaitham, kaeya)

Genshin Boys Babying You After You Cry All Day (Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao)

seeing you cry for the first time (Thoma, Kaveh, Kaeya, and Childe)

eyes don’t lie (xiao, childe, scaramouche)

𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 (zhongli, childe, kazuha, kaeya)

His reaction to someone badmouthing you (Aether, Albedo, AYATO, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli)

when they walk in on someone else being mean to you (Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli)

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

Frustration (Albedo, Kaeya, Zhongli)

Depressed S/O (Diluc and Zhongli)

bad day (diluc, kaeya)

you flinched away (kazuha, beidou, kaeya, diluc)

S/O flinching away from them (Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Xiao, and Scaramouche)

Flinching from their touch (Itto, Scaramouche, Childe, Zhongli, Kazuha, Diluc, Kaeya)

Watch your mouth (Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao)

Hands Off (Kaeya, Zhongli, Albedo)

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 (zhongli, ayato, cyno, itto, thoma)

Depressed S/O (Albedo, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Diluc and Zhongli)

The Sound of Thunder (albedo, childe, kazuha, scaramouche, venti, xiao, zhongli)

Finding out that your reputation wasn't the best (Zhongli, Diluc, Childe, and Kaeya)

meeting your awful parents (zhongli, childe, and kaeya)

there for you (Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli)

someone's creeping you out (Al-Haitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Childe, Wanderer)

They Save You From a Creep (diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, ayato, cyno, tighnari)

When they find out you have toxic/abusive parents (Scaramouche, Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Kaeya Alberich, Diluc Ragnvindr, Venti, and Lisa, Gorou, Thoma, Tartaglia, and Itto)

when you give them the silent treatment (scaramouche, kazuha, childe, xiao)

having your vision being taken away for a ceremony (gorou, kazuha, thoma)

until i heal (diluc, venti, zhongli, and thoma)

What would you do if I disappeared? (Aether, Albedo, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli)

short scenarios on how they take care of you when you’re down with a cold (kazuha, ayato, thoma, itto, baizhu)

their s/o gets really sick (childe, xiao, diluc)

When you're in pain (Kaeya Alberich, Childe, Xiao, Scaramoche, Venti)

s/o having an upset stomach because of anxiety (kaeya, diluc, venti)

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (scaramouche, xiao, tighnari, cyno) (diluc, thoma, kazuha, childe)

Sick SO (Childe, Diluc, Zhongli)

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

sick s/o (albedo, kaeya, xiao)

s/o that faints (albedo, diluc, and jean) (kaeya and childe) (zhongli, xiao, and baizhu)

Their S/O Collapsing from Pushing Themselves Too Hard (Kaeya, Childe, and Xiao)

S/o with a tendency to faint (Tartaglia, Xingqiu and Chongyun)

Genshin Boys Taking Care of You When You’re Sick (Xiao, Childe, Zhongli, Venti, Diluc, Kaeya)

genshin boys taking care of you when you're sick (childe, venti, xiao, zhongli)

when you’re sick (diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli)

taking care of you when you're sick (xiao, albedo, diluc, kaeya, childe)

taking care of a sick s/o (diluc and kaeya)

them taking care of you while you’re sick (xiao, childe, and kazuha)

ANEMO BOYS WITH A S/O THAT FAINTS A LOT

taking care of you when you're sick (diluc, ayato, wanderer, thoma, gorou, tighnari, cyno, childe, kaeya, venti, heizou, xiao, zhongli, kazuha, albedo, itto)

let me take care of you (Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Gorou, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli)

when you’re sick (tighnari, alhaitham, kaeya)

you're sick (albedo, childe, scaramouche, tighnari)

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸 ( kaveh, albedo, dainsleif)

You get sick (Ayaka, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli)

a spoonful of sugar.(childe. diluc. scaramouche)

migraine comfort (kaveh & baizhu)

how your boyfriend takes care of you when you feel under the weather (xiao, tighnari, childe, cyno)

when you're sick (Heizou, Kazuha, Xiao, Scara)

turns out you got a cold (alhaitham, diluc, kazuha, wanderer)

When you have a low self esteem (childe, kaeya)

of rippling skin (kaeya alberich, childe, zhongli, xiao, jean gunnhildr, lisa minci)

S/o’s birthday but locks themselves in their rooms because they don’t feel special (albedo, scaramouche, xiao)

reader who loathes showing weakness (childe and zhongli)

Even though you’re also doing your best helping people, they're only thanking Lumine/Aether (xiao, venti)

calling them out for spending too much time with lumine (Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli)

Forgetting about you (Kaeya, Childe, Thoma)  

insecure (zhongli, diluc, albedo)

s/o who is self conscious about their stretch mark (Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo and Venti)

S/O who Hides Their Scars (Zhongli and Childe)

doesn’t think they’re worthy of them (diluc, xiao, and childe)

thinking that they're losing interest (albedo, xiao, venti, diluc)

reader that feels like a second choice (zhongli, kaeya, Childe, and xiao)

S/O Who Insults Themselves (Diluc and Kaeya)

Them reacting to their s/o saying they want to die (Dainsleif, Diluc and Zhongli)

someone talking down on you (Diluc, Ayato and Tighnari)

you can do it! (albedo, kaeya, childe, zhongli and diluc)

Them reacting to their s/o saying they want to die (Zhongli, Diluc, Scaramouche) (Xiao, Childe, Venti)

Genshin men reacting to hating compliments (Scaramouche, Al haitham, Kazuha)

aren’t you tired of me? (scaramouche, xiao)

not good enough for you (ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, tighnari, and wanderer)

your sister is the favored child of the family (Heizou; Thoma; Alhaitham)

s/o who feels excluded (Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche, Heizou, Xiao)

tacenda (alhaitham, diluc, xiao)

ordinary (childe, venti)

jealousy, jealousy. (thoma, albedo)

festered wounds (zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley)

more than this (diluc, xiao, and kaveh)

archons forbid (zhongli, xiao, childe)

jealous reader gets upset (itto , thoma)

phonophobia (childe, diluc)

nightmares (pantalone, dottore, arlecchino)

their darling had a nightmare (Kaeya, Childe, Tohma)

Comfort after a nightmare (Tighnari, Cyno)

When Thunder Strikes (Albedo, Childe, Xiao, Kaeya, Chongyun, Xingqiu)

nightmares (zhongli and tartaglia)

s/o having a nightmare (Xiao, Zhongli, Razor and Venti)

nightmares (Childe, Albedo, Xiao)

nightmare (Childe, Albedo, Xiao, Diluc)

A Horrid Dream (Zhongli, Xiao, Childe)

comforting you after a nightmare headcanons (albedo, diluc, childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli)

Genshin boys comforting you after you have a nightmare that they died (Xiao, Scaramouche, Childe, Albedo)

When you wake up from a Nightmare (alhaitham, baizhu, pantalone)

sleep my love (Dainsleif, Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao)

injured s/o coming home after a commission (childe, xiao)

Reader gets abducted (Diluc, Xiao)

s/o getting hurt (diluc and kaeya)

tending to their injuries (thoma, itto, childe)

tending to their injuries (ayato, kazuha, xiao)

Injury (Albedo, Childe, Diluc) (Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli)

someone kidnapped both y/n, and one of the tall boys, and y/n starts getting worried, and scared (zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc)

their s/o gets kidnapped (Scaramouche, Diluc, Raiden, Cyno)

S/O is attacked for associating with them (gorou, itto, sara)

Saving you from drowning (Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Albedo and Chongyun)

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 (xiao, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche)

when he accidentally injures you (xiao, albedo, bennett)

seeing you severely injured and badly hurt after doing a commission (itto, diluc, xiao, aether, pantalone)

You Get Injured (Aether, Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Razor, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, and Childe)

Injured protecting them in battle (Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli

Tending to him while he is injured (Diluc, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao)

Harbingers With Hurt S/O

You’re Being Abused (Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe)

S/O who Shields Them From an Attack (Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, and Childe)

Reader got hurt while exploring Dragonspine (Kaeya, Albedo, and Venti)

maybe you'll understand when something happens to me and I don't ever come back (zhongli, childe, albedo and kaeya)

can you help? (Childe, Diluc)

Genshin Boys and How They Would React to Seeing You Get Hurt (Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe, Xiao)

getting severely injured (kaeya, albedo, venti)

they accidentally hurt you (bennett, razor, amber, diluc, xiao)

just a scratch (childe, diluc, xiao)

Tending to the Genshin Boys After They Get Hurt (Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe, Xiao)

you patch them up (albedo, childe, xiao, zhongli)

You got injured (Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe)

their s/o doesn't know how to swim (Kaeya, Diluc)

Them reacting to walking in on their s/o self-harming (Albedo, Xiao)

Reader Gets Hypothermia (Diluc, Xiao and Childe)

when you come back hurt from an expedition (Xiao, Kazuha, Zhongli)

You Get Hurt in Battle (Scaramouche and Childe)

reader pushing aether and kazuha (separate) from baal's attack during the archon quest

i’ve got my eye on you (xiao, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche, venti, gorou) (itto, diluc, zhongli, ayato, tartaglia, thoma, kaeya)

who hurt you (Xiao, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Kazuha, Tighnari)

cleaning injuries (Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo)

a commission gone wrong (Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli)

them when you get severely injured (zhongli, kaeya, childe, and diluc)

It’s my turn to protect you (Aether, Scaramouche, Childe)

tending to their injuries (cyno, alhaitham, tighnari)

blurred lines (kaeya, yelan, scaramouche, ayato, cyno, dottore, and alhaitham)

patching you up after a serious battle (xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, and alhaitham)

karma is my boyfriend (cyno, alhaitham, wanderer, childe, diluc, kaveh)

getting into an argument (zhongli, kaeya)

Dainsleif and Venti Getting Into an Argument With Reader

Xiao and Zhongli Lose Their Patience With the Reader

argument headcanon (diluc, kaeya and childe)

Careless Words (Albedo, Childe, Xiao)

fights with him (xiao, albedo, kazuha)

You faint during an argument/disagreement (Tartaglia, Diluc, Zhongli)

collapsing consciousness (heizou, ayato, xiao)

arguments (xiao, zhongli, albedo)

Disappearance (Diluc, Razor, Xiao)

you banish your s/o to the couch (alhaitham, cyno, itto, thoma)

argument hc's (diluc, kaeya and childe)

argument headcanons (diluc, zhongli, and albedo)

Arguments with their s/o (diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, xiao, albedo)

𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 (xiao, heizou) (kaeya, alhaitham) (scaramouche, yelan)

argument repercussions (kaeya, xiao, diluc, and albedo)

arguing with their s/o (diluc and xiao)

To Misunderstand, To Reconnect (Xiao, Childe, Kaeya)

accidentally snapping at you (kaeya and xiao)

Don’t you dare turn your back on me. (Albedo, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya, Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli)

stood up. (ayato & alhaitham)

he said something hurtful (childe & zhongli)

he makes you cry (xiao, albedo, tighnari, wanderer)

Was i really nothing to you? (Albedo; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kazuha)

you decided to sleep on the couch (alhaitham, diluc, kaeya, and zhongli)

They make you cry (xiao, kazuha, scaramouche)

From Me, For You (childe, alhaitham)

Let’s stop seeing each other (Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo)

I’m not going to apologize for caring about you! (Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli)

Making you cry during a fight (Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya)

don't say anything else just stay (diluc, xiao, kazuha, tighnari, freminet, dottore)

afraid of loud arguments (Diluc, Kaveh, Ayato)

for all that it’s worth (childe. xiao. alhaitham & cyno)

#genshin impact #kaeya #diluc #zhongli #childe #venti #albedo #xiao #razor #alhaitham #kaveh #cyno #itto #thoma #tighnari #kazuha #heizou #scaramouche

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 7: You Saw Me for How I Really Was

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”

Summary: It's everything you ever wanted but wouldn't wish for.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Explicit 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, breast play, grinding, oral sex (f and m receiving), rimming (f receiving), fingering, squirting, dirty talk, unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool, even if you're an android and can't get people pregnant).

Notes: IT'S TIME. Jack and Sugar finally deserve to get exactly what they want. And with one chapter left plus an epilogue, they've got just enough time to enjoy themselves. I kept pushing out the smut because they had so much to talk about, but we know they were gonna fall back into bed eventually. Enjoy!

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist   ||   Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

Returning to Jack’s ranch is comfortably quiet, the kiss still tingling on your lips as Jack and Jet keep pace with you and Daybreak. The sun is beginning to drift toward the horizon, and your stomach is growling even as you beg it to quiet down. Jack’s knowing smile heats your cheeks as you clop into the stables, beginning the ingrained process of stabling the horses. Each pass of the brushes and combs brings you closer to Jack’s hands, his embrace, his body close to yours again. The anticipation finally feels like excitement for the first time since you arrived, heart fluttering when he catches your eye or you glimpse a sliver of his profile. Strong arms massaging Jet’s shoulders, lifting the saddle and pulling the gate shut. The sway of his trim hips sauntering over to you. His worn fingers threading between yours as he leads you to the house hand in hand. 

“So I was thinking I’d make some dinner for us, if you’d like to stay,” Jack says cautiously, his touch delicate. You hadn’t even been considering going back to the bed and breakfast, but Jack’s deference to your comfort glows in your chest.

“Yeah, I’d like to stay,” you answer, and the crinkle of his eyes paired with him fighting back a smile urges you to walk closer. Shoulder to shoulder, you enter his home. Russell bounces at your heels as Jack leads you back to the kitchen where you bared your souls. “Can I help with the cooking?” 

Jack opens the fridge, taking out some ingredients. “I suppose if I say no I’ll catch you doing it anyway?” You give him a wink that makes you feel like a teenager, giddy at the faux sigh and head shake he returns. “Fine, I’m putting you in charge of vegetables and nothing else or Russ will give me hell for making the lady work.” Russell yips in agreement.

Jack fires up the grill outside the back door, leaving you to slice tomatoes and lettuce as Russell supervises. You toss him a bit of scrap, which he spits back out and looks forlorn over. Trading it for a piece of cheese gets you back in his good graces. The mouthwatering aroma of meat cooking pulls you to the open door, Russell joining his guardian in front of the grill.

Would you ever tire of ogling this man? He’s tied a blue apron over his button-up, a spatula in hand. The golden light accentuates his coffee eyes, the shine of his dark hair, the concentration in his brow as he flips burgers. When he shifts on his feet he pops one hip out, rounding his tiny bottom just a little more in his jeans. If hunger wasn’t so pressing you’d tear the apron off him and sink to your knees. Or wrap your arms around him while diving a hand into his pants. Maybe bend over to expose your aching…

You shake away the runaway train of your libido, awake and screaming after such a long hibernation. Everything is still so fragile, your steps mincing up to what that kiss lead to after the meal concludes.

The burgers are consumed messily and jubilantly at the kitchen table, juice dripping down your fingers and the delightful grease cut through with sharp pickle brine and cold iced tea. Russell gets his own smaller patty, clearly spoiled rotten by Jack with the way he prances for it. Jack’s eyes meet yours between the quips and banter that flows easily, his eyes still hungry in a way no meal will sate. When he slips his fingers into his mouth to lick up errant juices, you forcibly drag your gaze down. 

With dinner finished, Jack waves you off from dish duty. 

“Go take a look around, my hospitality will not allow you to also clean up.” 

Rolling your eyes you do as you’re told, touring his modest ranch with meandering steps. On closer inspection you find new delights amongst his possessions. A modern music player, a quick browse through revealing a lot of Hank Williams and George Strait. Repair manuals for what seem to be large harvesters, dog-eared and well read. A distinct lack of photos. 

Venturing further into the house, you find a neat guest bath and an open door leading to an office. A second door is shut, and your instinct tells you it’s the bedroom. While you could be bold and enter, you turn and head back to the kitchen. The water turns off, and as you round the corner back to the hallway you see it.

The third door.

It wouldn’t have stood out to you, tucked away past the bedrooms, except for the massive padlock keeping it shut. It shouldn’t bother you - Jack is allowed secrets, especially after all you know of him - but this piques your curiosity enough to step closer. From a distance you think it takes a key, but upon closer inspection you discover a subtle biometric scanner.

“Thought you might find that,” Jack says behind your shoulder, startling you about six feet out of your skin.

“I wasn’t…” you start to protest, but Jack just rubs your arm and reaches past. A press of his thumb and the lock opens, Jack making quick work of removing it and opening the door. 

“I don’t have any secrets with you, Sugar,” he says, taking your hand. His are softer now, warm from the dishwater. “If you want to know what’s in the basement, I’ll take you.”

“What is it?” you ask, clasping Jack’s hand tighter. It’s remarkable how perfectly it fits in yours. How long you’ve waited to hold it.

“Something that took a long time to put together.”

Jack leads you down into the basement, another door with another lock at the bottom. This one has a retinal scanner, hissing open when pushed. The light is cool blue, starkly different from the warm sunlight waiting for you upstairs. Your stomach twists with nerves, but you still follow. 

A few steps inside the basement reveals white tile walls and a smooth concrete floor. In the center of the room is a box, a large rectangle with a hinge on the side. You try not to compare it to a coffin. Against the wall are computer screens, silver canisters, what looks like a 3D printer encased in glass. The only noise is the constant quiet hiss of atmosphere controls and the shuffle of Jack’s feet. You tuck into your body as if your presence could jeopardize the room. He leans on one leg and chews his lower lip before speaking.

“When I left, I had a few things with me. Field repair kit, basically. But if I wanted to stay here on my own, I needed more. After I bought the place and got this room ready, I…well, you’d probably call it ‘hacking,’ but I used the mesh network to poke around in Delos’ shipping sector. Make a few crates go missing, delivered to a desert two states over. Some things didn’t make it, so I have to be careful, but all this…” He gestures to the room around you. “This is what I’m made of.”

You slowly pace the room, silently taking in the scene that’s more like the world you came from. Sterile, cool, emotionless technology. When you get close to the wall-mounted screens they hum to life, and one by one glowing cobalt text fills your vision. Progress meters, percentages ticking up and down. Lines of code that don’t make sense, but when the central screen displays a Vitruvian-esque man’s outline, it becomes clear.

“This is you,” whispers out from your slack lips, roaming over the subtly moving parts that make up the whole of Jack’s being. His heart monitor is thumping hard, vibrant red amongst the rest of his anatomy. 

“Yeah, this is all of it. All of me.” Jack stops, though you can feel the weight of the words he doesn’t say.

You can have it.

Turning back to face him, his eyes are pleading for you to understand, to not be terrified by the underground world that keeps him here with you. But instead of the manic need to run, peace finally winds through your chest like a lazy stream. You smile, and Jack’s relief brings him closer step by step.

“You did this all by yourself,” you say, both of Jack’s hands stroking up your arms as he steps into your orbit.

“It was worth it,” he murmurs, thumb worrying at your sleeve. It aches, knowing how alone you both were, knowing that he waited so long with all these feelings still burning in the heart you can so easily see on that screen.

“I’m sorry, I’ve spent the last two days interrogating you,” you laugh, smoothing your hand over his chest. Solid muscle warms your palm, his proximity tingling down your spine. “You said you had questions for me too, but I don’t think I’ve answered any of them. You deserve some answers too.”

Jack chuckles, pressing one hand to your lower back and surrounding you once again.

“Only what you’re willing to share with me, Sugar,” he says, and fuck, he means it. He’s given you every secret but he’d let you keep yours.

“Anything, Jack.”

He sucks in a breath, tongue swiftly wetting his lower lip.

“You never married him?”

“No.”

“Never found someone else?”

You’d never even considered finding someone during that year.

“No.”

“You were happy?”

Your breath hitches, Jack’s hands soothing up your back.

“I was happier, yeah. I told myself it would only get better, but…I was also lonely.”

Jack nods. “Me too.”

He struggles then, jaw working and false starting a couple times before he finally asks.

“Why did you show me the photograph?”

The maelstrom of emotions that hits you wells in your eyes. He’s holding you so close to how he did that day, albeit in a room that pales his skin and deepens his eye sockets. It’s your turn to struggle now, throat clenching.

“I thought you were going to tell me you loved me,” you half-sob, taking in a shaky breath as his eyebrows raise. “I thought it was part of the park, and it would have killed me to hear you say it when I felt…” 

Jack cups your cheek, letting you lean into the touch.

“I was gonna tell you it was real, Sugar. That I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but I was no longer a host and this place was no longer my home. I guess it’s good I didn’t, would’ve scared you right off.” You share a wet chuckle as your tears subside, letting Jack’s body soothe you. 

“But…” he interjects, eyes lifting back to his face. “If you had accepted that, somehow, crazy as it would have been, I would have also told you that I loved you.” 

Your mouth drops open, wonder spreading down your shoulders. 

“Because I loved you from my first breath as Jack. I’ve loved you every day since. Not because of Maeve, or Delos. I love you, and none of it is programming.”

For a long moment you just look at each other in awe before Jack’s face closes off sharply, tucking his chin down.

“I don’t expect anything, this has all been a lot…”

“I love you too.”

Jack’s eyes dart back to your face, his own stunned expression painting his gorgeous profile. 

“You don’t…”

But you wind your arms around his neck and let the peace melting through your body pass on to his. It’s as easy as breathing, as a kiss, as letting yourself stop running from the happiest you’ve ever been.

“I’ll say it. Every day. I love you, Jack.” 

Then you weave your fingers into his hair and ease his lips to yours. The kiss starts soft, Jack’s movements sluggish as he pulls you into his body. Then he takes in a sharp breath and devours you, teeth hard against your lips and tongue darting into your mouth to taste everything you’ll give him. His embrace is close to bruising, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t press every inch of your body into his. Your knees buckle briefly, which urges him to finally break the kiss and pant against your cheek.

“Sugar, I want to take you to bed and make love to you as many times as you’ll let me,” he growls in your ear, arousal nearly unbearable in your core.

“I hope you’ve got stamina enough for that, cowboy,” you shoot back, meaning it to be a sexy tease but more of it coming out as a breathless quip. He nips at your lower lip before untangling and leading you by the hand up and out of the basement. At the slam of the top door Russell bounds out of the living room, tail wagging and eyes bright. Jack curses quietly under his breath while kneeling to grab something out of a box under a sideboard. 

“Russell, man to man, do not come scratching for at least four hours,” he says sternly before presenting the pup with a handsomely large bone. He takes it and skips off to the living room. 

“Bribery, huh?” you tease as he lifts to his full height, but before you can say anything else his mouth is on yours and he’s backing you up against the closed bedroom door. 

“Darlin’, I would let the horses in the house to get you all to myself,” he says against your smile, fiddling with the knob to back you into his bedroom. The door shuts quickly behind to prevent an audience.

You barely get a chance to look at the room - two dressers, lamps, door to an ensuite bathroom - before Jack leads you backwards until your calves bump the bed. He’s dancing his lips over your neck, hands kneading at your hips.

“Tell me you want this, sweetheart,” he begs prettily, and your eyes roll up as he sucks a mark above your collarbone. Every part of you burns for him, clutching at his shirt, his shoulders, the soft strands of his hair. 

“Yes, Jack, please. I want you,” you husk, and he sighs into your skin. Thick fingers work under your top, sliding his hands up your sides and bringing the cloth with it. He tosses it on the floor somewhere behind him, wide palms supporting your back as he leans down to lick along the cup of your bra. The cool kiss of air on the wet trail pebbles your nipples.

“God, you taste good Sugar,” Jack moans while sucking another kiss into your shoulder. Your fingers find his buttons, sliding them out one by one to expose the smooth breadth of Jack’s chest. He blazes under your knuckles, muscles clenching as you ride the hills and valleys of his body to tug his shirttails out. 

“I recall you said I was the sweetest thing you ever tasted,” you tease, sliding your hand down to palm his cock through his straining jeans. He’s bigger than you remember, which was not insignificant. He’ll have to take his time, get you ready for him. Your cunt clenches at the thought.

“Damn right. I can’t wait to taste every part of you, sweetheart.” Jack tucks a knee between your thighs and wraps an arm around your waist. You’re suddenly off-balance as he leans you back, kneeling as he lays you out on the bed. His thick thigh remains between your legs, and you grind on it wantonly. “God, look at you, needy pussy on my thigh. Go ahead, baby, get yourself hot and ready.” He shucks off his shirt as you roll your hips up his thigh, denim catching on your clit and wedging your underwear between your slick folds. It’s tantalizing, Jack’s hands coming down to thumb open your pants button and slide down your zip. Gripping your hips, he guides you against him, lips parted and panting as his hair falls in his eyes.

“Beautiful, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” he praises before pulling back. You whine at the loss while lifting your hips to let him peel off your pants, underwear going with them to leave you in just your bra on the thick quilt below. Jack returns to lean over you, stealing another toe-curling kiss while he thumbs your nipples.

“Can I taste you, Sugar? Get you cumming around my tongue?” 

“Fuck, oh fuck, Jack, please.”

Hooking his arms under your knees, he slides you up the bed before dropping to his elbows, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound. Every anxiety has fled, leaving only a crackling need as he drags his nose up your inner thigh, a light lick up your slit barely parting your lips. Thighs trembling, you try rocking your hips against his tongue but he presses you back into the bed, following his own path as he meanders up and down your thighs. You hope he can see your pussy fluttering, how much arousal is gathering from his light touches. Finally he pulls your lips open with his thumbs and licks a wet stripe over your clit.

Your reaction is instant. Back bowing off the bed, thighs clenching over his shoulders, fingers twisting the quilt. Jack’s eyes rake up your body, a self-satisfied chuckle vibrating against your clit begging for more more more.

“You’ve waited so long for this, sweetheart. I’m going to make it worth it,” he promises before sliding his tongue back into your pussy. Undulating it against your needy clit tears a gasp from your throat, whines held behind your teeth. Jack’s hands splay over your thighs, digging in to keep you open and flush against his greedy mouth. Every lap of his tongue is wet, filthy, indulgent. You struggle for coherence, babbles of “so good” and “please, Jack” and “fuck fuck fuuuuuuck” all you can manage. Jack doesn’t seem to mind, mouth too busy to keep up a conversation. Instead he seals his lips around your clit and rhythmically sucks while teasing a finger at your entrance. The pressure, the pattern of his lips pulling you to the precipice of your orgasm, drives your fingers into his hair to pull him against your cunt. 

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, teeth grazing your clit before he flicks his tongue and buries one long finger inside you. The glint of hunger in his eyes explodes in your spine as you shatter on the rocks of your pleasure. Even as you buck against him he rides you to the end, draining every last drop of your orgasm onto his tongue. Spots dance in your vision, jellied bones leaving you helpless on your back as you try to catch your breath.

Just as you’re about to sit up and reach for him, another finger slides into your tight cunt and Jack blows a cool kiss of air against your sensitive clit. You shoot up with a strangled gasp, pulling Jack’s face back. His eyes are hazy pools, lips and mustache wet with you. A filthy smile dances on his lips, baring his long neck and scraping his teeth along your inner thigh.

“I’m not done here just yet,” he purrs, guiding your hand out of his hair and against his mouth. Pressing a kiss to your palm, he weaves your fingers between his and dips his face back to lap at your folds, curling into something devastating inside you.

“Fuck, Jack, I can’t…” you groan, but he shakes his head, bristly mustache scraping over your sex as he chuckles.

“Yes you can, Sugar, and you will,” he promises darkly, and before you can protest he’s rolling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips. Your cunt gapes at the loss, but he quickly slides his fingers back. His wandering lips graze along your ass before flitting his tongue against your other hole. You jerk, a sudden wave of shameful arousal both backing you up against him and jerking away. He bands his arm around your thighs and spits, the hot saliva sliding down to wet his knuckles. “I want to have you every way I can, sweetheart. Make you feel pleasure you’ve never felt before. I want to make you cum from things you never imagined.” With that he firmly licks over your asshole, long heavy strokes that match the pace of his fingers inside you. 

The oversensitivity passes until you’re aching, full of him and dripping over his hand. His appetite makes your face burn, but it feels too good to stop. Snaking a hand down, you swirl over your clit and stroke Jack’s strong fingers inside you.

“Oh fuck Sugar, is that you? You’re touching yourself? Don’t stop beautiful, I’m gonna have you wailing for me soon.” The intense stretch of his third finger sliding in stutters your hand, planting both on the bed so you can push back against his overwhelming devotions. He snarls, pounding his fingers into you and swatting at your jiggling ass.

“That’s it, baby, you get ready for my cock. I can’t wait to feel this perfect pussy around me. C’mon, that’s it, that’s my gorgeous girl.” Your eyes shut, body lost to Jack all around you as he curls and drags his fingertips against a spot inside that threatens to overtake you. With a yank your feet touch the floor, bent over the bed with Jack folded over you, pressing into that spot over and over again.

“Give it to me, Sugar, I want you all over me,” he whispers, and your mind barely grasps what he means before your orgasm grips you hard and unforgiving, gasping and wailing as wetness drips down your legs. Jack tucks you against his hot skin, cupping your mound and pressing his cock against your ass as he talks you through it, “Gorgeous girl covering me in your cum, you’re so fucking hot, so pretty cumming for me. Does that feel good? Breathe baby, you did so good, you came so good for me.”

“Jack, holy shit,” you finally manage to squeak out. He backs up from you, wiping fabric down your legs and briefly over your sensitive core before letting you sit on the bed.

What you turn to see almost knocks you out for a whole different reason. Jack stands with one hip cocked, his heather gray button-up damp with your release. It’s not the only thing soaked; his jeans, open and slung low on his hips, are dark with liquid, droplets clinging to the curls of his pubic hair. You can just barely peek the head of his cock breaching the vee of his zipper, face flushed a boyish pink as he cards his fingers through his mussed hair. 

“Oh my god, you’re…I did…” you stammer, heat blazing in your cheeks. Jack laughs, tossing his shirt to the side and running his fingers over his stomach. The shine of wetness comes away on his fingers, and he licks them delicately. You’re sure you’ll ignite any second, but he only hums in appreciation.

“Just like all of you, Sugar, oh so sweet,” he drawls. “Give me two minutes to brush my teeth and think about baseball and I’ll be back,” he adds, swaggering into the ensuite. You bury your hands in your face and take a few breaths, but they’re mostly to bring you back from your out of body experience. Realizing your bra is still on, you quickly unclasp and toss it with the other clothing, climbing up the bed and kneeling. From here you can see Jack’s back ripple as he leans down to rinse his mouth, the warmth in his eyes when he catches you in the mirror. Turning he leans in the doorframe, looking you up and down shamelessly.

“Never seen anything more gorgeous in my entire life,” he says, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and tugging his jeans down. Stepping out of them, he comes to the side of the bed and strokes up your thigh to your lower back, tugging you close to kiss you. His mouth is cool and minty, a balm to your overheated skin, as he cups your head and lets your tongues touch in playful sweeps. Skin against skin makes you melt into Jack’s body, breasts pressed against his chest while he strokes over the span of your shoulders, the curve of your back, squeezing your perfect ass. 

Breaking the kiss, you brush your noses together.

“I’d like to ride you, cowboy,” you ask, his cheeks flushing as you nip at his chin. He chases your mouth for another kiss, letting you pull his tongue between your teeth with a stifled groan.

“I’d like that, Sugar, love to watch you on my lap,” he husks into your ear, climbing into the bed beside you. He arranges himself, propped up in the pillows and lightly stroking his cock from base to tip. Kneeling next to him, you place a kiss on his shoulder, the center of his peck, the soft rounding of his belly. His fingers still at the base as you lean over and lick the head of his cock, the musky taste making you salivate. With no warning you wrap your lips around the head, his moan spiking arousal in your cunt. You slide down his shaft, swiping your tongue along the underside and flicking around the ridge. Jack’s thighs clench, choked-back curses sizzling off your back. It isn’t until you slide to the base, relaxing your jaw and tracing the tip of your tongue along his fingers that Jack urges you off him. He replaces his cock with his lips, ravenous as your teeth clack and he pulls you onto his lap.

“Almost blew it before getting inside you, baby, you’re too good at that,” he gasps, slowing down to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“Need me to slow down?” you ask, his head shaking in response. You stroke your fingers through his hair, pressing your cheek against his head as he wraps his arms around you. His cock slips through your folds as you rock against him, tilting your hips to catch him just at your entrance. You hold his head between your hands and pull him back enough to watch as you take just his head inside. His eyes roll back, threaten to close but he forces them open, mesmerized by the way your chest heaves, lips parted, eyes hooded as you work his cock inside you. When you throw your head back he fits his lips against your neck, leaving wet trails as he takes your nipple into his mouth. The zing of pleasure from his flicking tongue, the other nipple rolled between his fingers, urges you to sink down to the base. He releases your breast with a pop, foreheads coming together as you sit full of him. 

“Jack,” you finally say breathlessly. He hums, turning his head up to drag his lips along your jaw. “Probably a bad time to ask, but…you can’t get me pregnant, right?”

Jack snorts into the junction of your shoulder, nails scratching lightly down your back.

“Very insightful. No, I am proverbially shooting blanks.”

You let the amusement of the moment simmer down, his tongue tracing shapes below your ear, before speaking again.

“Then I want you to cum in me, Jack. I want to feel you inside me.”

Jack’s grip tightens, his thighs clenching underneath you. 

“Fuck, Sugar, I want that. Want to fill you with my seed, watch it drip out of you.” You lift up on your knees, his cock sliding through your tight pussy, before sinking back down firmly.

“Fill me up, Jack.”

Jack’s pained groan spurs you to ride him properly, your hands braced on the headboard behind him. He looks up at you like a deity, worshiping you with his work-worn hands. His thighs are slick with your arousal and sweat, making the glide even more sensual. You roll your hips to feel every ridge and vein of him inside, helpless whines slipping out when he circles your clit just right or scrapes his teeth along your nipples. 

“Darlin’, you tell me when you’re close and I’ll get you over the edge. I want to be the one making you cum, sweetheart, please let me make you cum,” he begs into your shoulder. You weren’t even sure if you had a third one in you, but every slip of his lips on your skin makes electricity crackle inside. 

“I’m close, Jack, I want you, I want you,” you babble. Jack tilts you forward, planting his feet and fucking up into you from below. He pulls you down against the force of his thrusts, the sticky slap pulling one long moan from your lips. It’s right there, just out of reach, when Jack flips you to your back, yanking your legs over his shoulders. Your eyes widen, fisting the blanket around your head, but then Jack presses your thighs to your stomach and mounts you, drilling down and…

“Oh fuck, Jack, fuck, right there, rightthererightthereright…” Your begging is lost to the scream you barely recognize as your own as Jack fucks an orgasm into your cunt, teeth gritted and lip snarled as he harshly pants above you. Your pussy clamps down and he follows with a bellow, watching where you’re connected. You swear you can feel his cum inside, marking you in a way no man has ever done before. A primal voice roars mine and his in one sound, and your eyes must be as wild as his are because when they meet he’s crushing his mouth to yours, roughly licking in and swallowing down your weak pants. By the end he’s whimpering into your mouth, softening inside but loathe to move from the tangle of limbs. His arms surround your head, stroking at your cheeks as he watches you closely. Yours are too weak to lift yet, but you let one drape over his back. Fingers trace delicate patterns on his sweat-slick skin. 

“Is it okay if I say it again?” Jack asks. You hum curiously, his body settling into yours. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, eyes darting away shyly as his thumb strokes the corner of your lips. You smile wider, a feedback loop of happiness.

“I love you too, Jack.”

And in that moment, that’s all either of you need.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

#jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack whiskey daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x female reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #kingsman the golden circle fanfiction #westworld fanfiction #prolix fics

[yespolkadotkitty]

would you write a sweet drabble with my fave cowboy Rhett? I'm having a DAY.

Of course!

Everything

Words: 786 ~ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female reader ~ Content: Fluff. Kisses, Rhett cooks, stargazing.

Thanking @hederasgarden for the beta and encouragement! ~ Shoutout to @a-reader-and-a-writer for using Cowboy Law in her fantastic fic of the same name, so I could reference it here!!

------

The night Rhett invites you to dinner, he warns you with a sheepish smile that he only really cooks two things. Steak, and steak and eggs.

You opt for the steak. When you arrive at the ranch house, it’s quiet. Everyone else is out - Amy at a sleepover, Cece and Royal have gone to a hotel for the first time in a thousand years, as it’s the anniversary of their first date, and Perry’s bunking in the barn a mile down the track.

“Perry sleeping away at your request?” you ask Rhett.

He turns from seasoning the steaks, smiling slightly. “Maybe.”

You sit at the table and watch him work. He has great hands. Wide palms, long fingers. A little scarred from ranch work and bull riding.

He moves to the fridge and takes out a bag of salad, shakes it into a bowl.

“Fancy,” you tease.

He huffs, but he’s smiling. “This is fancy, for me. Even put rosemary from the garden in the pan. You want a drink? We got wine, beer, and iced tea.”

You ask for iced tea and he pours it into a glass. Your fingers brush as he hands it to you, and you meet his gaze for a second. His eyes are so blue, it’s unreal.

He drops a small pat of butter into the seasoned, cast iron skillet, and it sizzles. You let yourself trace the line of his back and shoulders with your eyes as he cooks. The soft grey button-down looks good on him.

“You like it rare?”

“Of course. My daddy’d be ashamed if I asked for it well done.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs over his shoulder and the low register of his voice goes right to your core.

Before long the steaks are done and Rhett slides a plate in front of you, filled with sirloin steak and a pile of salad. It even has a dressing on it.

You lift your fork. “I bet you make this salad for all the girls you bring home.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “You’re the first, actually,” he says softly, and sips his beer.

Butterflies, the good kind, fill your stomach. 

You wouldn’t have expected to be Rhett Abbott’s first anything.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He watches you for a moment. “You don’t have to say anythin’. I just like being with you.”

And it’s true, you realise. He often seeks you out, even if you only sit under a tree together and shoot the breeze. At first you thought perhaps he was… bored? Seeking a friend? But then he caught your hand while you walked through a cornfield at dusk, and when you met his gaze he seemed all shrouded in gold by the twilight, and you knew if he asked you just about anything, you’d say yes.

So here you are.

You finish the excellent steak.

“Come out to the porch swing with me?” Rhett asks.

You follow him out on to the decking. The stars are winking into being, one by one, on the darkening blanket of the sky.

Rhett sits down and pats the space beside him, and you settle in. When he wraps his arm around you, and softly asks, “ This okay?” you about melt.

“It’s really okay.” You nestle in, rest your head on his shoulder.

His fingers play with the ends of your hair idly. “Thought about this some. Just sittin’ with you. Right here. Sky full of stars, too.”

“A secret romantic!” You gasp, teasingly.

In response Rhett uses his other hand to tilt your chin up. His gaze flits between your eyes and your mouth, and he must find what he’s looking for, because he kisses you then, a butterfly-wing soft brush of his lips over yours. It’s sweet and tender and perfect, and he tastes crisp, like the first bite of a summer apple, full of promise and pleasure.

You thread a hand into his thick, soft hair and he makes a little mmm sound of approval in his throat.

Eventually after a lot more kisses, he whispers, “Guess I better expand my cookin’ repertoire.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because..” he drops a kiss on your nose. “I want to keep invitin’ you over to dinner.”

You spend the entire evening out on the swing, kissing and talking and laughing, and when Rhett finally drives you home,  he sees you to your door like a true gentleman.

When he says goodnight, he holds you close like something precious, something he never wants to be without again.

When you wake up in the morning, there’s a bunch of wildflowers on your doorstep, along with his favourite brown stetson.

And you know that when a cowboy gives a woman his hat, it means….

Everything.

-------

People who may like this @a-reader-and-a-writer @lorecraft @babblydrabbly @skvatnavle @green-socks @wildbornsiren @nerdysuperchick

Please DM or ask to be tagged, or untagged!

#rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott x female reader #outer range #lewis pullman #askbox fic #fluff

[sam-glade]

Shopping Trip

Exactly a month ago @writernopal reminded me of its existence here. Well, it needed a full rewrite, because my style's changed so much, but here it is. 100% saccharine fluff, you have been warned. Literally, just fluff.

Context: In the middle of book 2 of Days of Dusk, Lissan gets 'adopted' into a noble house due to Anthea's machinations. Neither of them is happy about it, but they both agree it was a reasonable choice. Ianim takes this opportunity to get Lissan an outfit befitting a young nobleman. WC: 1660 CW: -

Days of Dusk taglist (please message me to +/-): @acertainmoshke @another-white-hole @iced-ginger-tea @poetinprose

Lissan admitted to himself – and later to Ianim, too – that he reacted badly to the suggestion. And so, the next time they were supposed to meet up with the rest of the guys in a pub, he arrived early. As predicted, Ianim was already there, nursing a light beer and watching the patrons from a corner table for six. He accepted Lissan's apologies, and yes, he was delighted to take Lissan to a tailor and offer advice.

And pay for it. This was the part Lissan had been most opposed to initially. It took Ianim assuring him that the costs were going to be covered by the First Prince's personal wealth, not the state treasury, for Lissan to get over it – after all, it was Anthea who wanted him in this role, and taking her up on the offer had a certain appeal.

"Oh, stop fretting," Ianim said in response to his second concern, amusement tinting his tone. "I promise, no silks, no metallic threads, nothing like that."

"Nothing that would make me stand out," Lissan corrected. The oddly specific list seemed prone to loopholes.

Ianim smiled at him, his eyes twinkling.

"You don't need expensive clothes to do that." Ianim looked him over one more time, a small smile playing on his lips.

Lissan smiled back and reminded himself that this outing was in part for Ianim's enjoyment.

And so, on an overcast Saturday morning, they made their way across Otterly River, and delved into the civilian quarters.

Compared to the brick and iron of the Army buildings on the Western bank, this part of the city was a whirlwind of colours, patterns, and styles. Every time Lissan made his way there, he wished he did it more often, since he'd inevitably discover another little square or alley to explore. The buildings were plastered in light colours, which just about managed to stand up to the accumulated grime from coal smoke well enough. Lissan and Ianim passed more than one facade in the process of being scrubbed clean, in anticipation of lighter, warmer days. And sure, it was much more disorderly than the military sectors, but Lissan found it organic. Charming.

Ianim hooked a hand around his elbow and pulled him in the opposite direction to where Lissan was looking.

"I swear, you've got the attention span of a squirrel at times," he muttered.

Lissan snorted, but followed his lead. They stood out, in their ashen uniforms and with Swords at their sides, but they were far from only Swords in the crowd – and they passed at least a couple people in mourning, wearing a similar shade of grey. Otherwise, the outfits were even more vibrant than the houses. Lissan gave into curiosity and paid attention to jackets men wore – often striped, sometimes embroidered on the cuffs and tails. They looked less durable or practical than the uniform but he could see himself in something like that, brown or green–

"Shall we find you a kontush first, then a less formal ensemble?" Ianim asked lightly.

Lissan stumbled and bit his tongue before a word of protest could escape him.

"I'm still getting over the fact that I'm expected to wear one," he said instead.

Master Claren's lessons in etiquette had been honestly interesting, but it occurred to him that he was treating them as purely theoretical up until now. And he got jitters.

It was fine though, because for most of the first meeting with the tailor, Ianim did the talking. He clearly knew the tailor – a stout woman who to Lissan looked like she was about three hundred years old, which probably meant she was at least twice that, knowing how long people seemed to live in the city. Ianim slipped some half-truths into the smalltalk, letting the tailor fill in false details by herself. A comment about ‘unexpected inheritance’ combined with Lissan’s age, led her to believe that his older relatives had passed away suddenly, and he’d inherited the title of a lord. It set his teeth on edge, but he didn’t interrupt.

She took his measurements as she talked to Ianim, arranging him to stand straighter, lift his arms, then drop them. It didn’t take long.

“As for the fabrics,” the tailor said, pointing him towards a table with samples laid out. “We’re looking for forest green over brass, is that correct, my lord?”

She looked at Ianim, not Lissan, and Ianim nodded in a reflex. Lissan couldn’t decide if he was glad or offended by being left out. He crossed his arms and watched Ianim lean over the table.

Ianim wore blue. He always did when he was out of uniform. It suited him, Lissan decided, looking over his slim figure. It made his eyes look so much brighter, and brought out the blush on his cheeks. However, the question was what colours he would wear, and it was something he’d never had to consider – back in Beetletun, the choices were limited by what was currently at hand. Marta cared so much more about her outfits, and so she got the first choice of colours. He didn’t mind; the same colours suited them both.

"Lissan?" Ianim urged him to come closer.

He just nodded along while Ianim suggested a shiny yellowish fabric with a faint rhombus pattern. Then Ianim pointed at a plain green material, and his breath caught. He knew this colour. It took him back to the Eternal Woods, where it had surrounded him at all sides, thrumming with life. And while the trip overall was less than successful, the memory of that place was something he cherished dearly.

"Yeah, that looks good," he confirmed sheepishly.

Ianim flashed him a smile.

"And for the ensemble, my lord?" This time the tailor addressed him for once.

"A similar green, if you have something like that, please?" Lissan said quickly. Ianim cast him a look, but Lissan didn't let him interrupt. "The stripy one looks nice," he decided, pointing at a fabric the tailor was bringing over.

The stripes were alternating glossy and matte, quite cleverly woven, though he couldn't imagine how it was made... Right, factories. Ianim had mentioned that the engineers employed by the ones in Redguard were racing to develop new machinery for the textile industry. He ran his fingers over the material; it was smooth to the touch though he felt the pattern faintly. Yes, he liked that.

Ianim chatted to the tailor a while longer, under the guise of choosing the colours for the underlayers, and finalising some finer details. Lissan let his voice wash over him. He seemed to be having fun. Every now and then, he'd glance at Lissan with that crooked smile of his, then go back to discussing fashion. 

Lissan still looked away in embarrassment as he paid the deposit. He was glad to be out of the shop. 

"You seem to have enjoyed yourself," he observed on the way. There certainly was more spring in Ianim's step now.

"Ah, yes." Ianim's smile faltered.

"I'm guessing Gullin didn't let you dress him up like that?" Lissan said quickly, before Ianim could ask about his feelings. It wasn't the smoothest segue, but it had to do.

To his surprise, Ianim snorted, then laughed unabashedly. Lissan relaxed.

"Oh, Elements, no. He made it very clear I'd have to drag him kicking and screaming to a tailor's. I think he's wearing that ratty old jacket whenever we meet up at the pub as payback for the mere suggestion."

Yeah, all right, Gullin would totally do that. He smiled and let Ianim lead him to a shoemaker.

#

It took them a month to find another morning when they could both get away from their duties. They rushed to the tailor's shop to escape the wet wind, and rubbed warmth into their hands urgently.

The outfits weren't finished, but the tailor wanted Lissan to try them on for fit. And they fit well, much better than the uniform. He smoothed out the waistcoat, running his fingers over the simple monochrome embroidery in the pattern of oak leaves and acorns. Less formal, Ianim said. This was still a masterwork he'd not thought he'd ever wear. Still, since the First Prince was paying…

Ianim arranged a linen cravat around his collar with practised movements, his eyes fixed intently on his own hands, a small frown creasing his forehead. Lissan studied his features as he waited.

To Lissan, Ianim was the perfect example of what a nobleman looked like – slim, with delicate hands and smooth cheeks. Gorgeous, yes, but unattainable. Next to him, Lissan appeared stocky, with hands roughened by working in fields and orchards for the second half of his childhood. Never before had he felt so self-conscious about the pockmarks and the little scar on his jaw, from when he fell off a tree as a teenager. There was nothing to be done about that though.

Ianim helped him shrug on the jacket and straightened his collar. A warm gleam caught Lissan's attention. Ianim got a little pin from his pocket, with an amber the size, shape, and colour of a hazelnut, framed in a simple brass setting. Lissan didn't manage to get a good look at it, before Ianim fastened it to the cravat.

"A gift," he said simply, and stepped back.

Lissan swallowed and turned to the full-length mirror. And froze.

He looked good. Very much like himself, just as Ianim had promised, but the colours matched his complexion, and the cut did wonders to highlight his physique. He didn't think that there was a way for clothes to show off the muscles he'd build up with manual work and training. He was glad to be proven wrong. And the pin from Ianim matched his eyes. His cheeks flushed at the realisation how much thought Ianim had put into it. He caught Ianim's eyes in the mirror and grinned.

"What do you think?" Ianim sounded smug. He had never sounded this smug before. Lissan's grin spread.

He smoothed down the jacket and spun around, his heels clicking on the wooden floor.

"I see the appeal. Especially if your sister is paying."

#writing #my writing #snippet #fantasy #writeblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #days of dusk #lissan #ianim #next task: figure out how to make those two interact without it looking like flirting at all times

[bhjuyeon]

i knoooow like i owe people starters/replies but crocus szn is here and i have some plot calls out for both juy and siwoo! i'll still be getting to non event threads but there will be priority on event threads response first! do reply with the following emoji if you're keen for interactions!

for juyeon 🍒 - your muse invites juy out for ice skating be it as a date or platonically. (funnier take if he's being used as a 'date' because your muse's crush or ex is there) 🍉 - your muse is participating the crocus baking contest and makes juy their lab rat (bonus if your muse completely cannot bakes) 🍎 - being the son of mugunghwa, he will be attending the gala. your muse either wants him to be their partner for the night / dancing partner before the auction begins 🍓 - alternatively, juyeon will be performing at the mugunghwa gala, but what happens if he and your muse so happened to sight a mistletoe 🍅 - thread where they could meet at the tea house, ordering the most amount of orders of gingerbread and eggnogs (alternatively, also buying this for the children of beonhwa and being their version of santa's lil helper) 🌶️ - your muse is supposed to get into the sleigh ride that is meant for couples but got stood up. instead, invites juy!

for siwoo 🥯 - siwoo is being dragged out by plenty of eligible woman at the mugunghwa gala to the mistletoe lane, your muse tries to help him get away from mothers and daughters of other houses. (perhaps even ending up at the mistletoe with siwoo themselves eventually) 🥐 - a friend acquainted with the house of gladiolus bought the couple private sleigh with no intentions of using if. handing the privilege to siwoo, he invites your muse out so it doesn't go to waste. 🥨 - being a regular at the sweetbrier tea house, he's being served a lot of servings of crocus holiday treats. not wanting it to go to waste and not being a sweet tooth himself, he invites your muse to sit with him to finish the treat. 🥖 - there's been a mix up and somehow siwoo finds himself involuntarily joining the baking contest. since he isn't a quitter per say, he ends up learning baking and practices with your muse who he enlist to taste his goods for feedback

and alternatively, always down to brainstorm for both my muses for anything that works out for the event!

#＃ 𝐱𝐲𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬!

[oatmilkandcookies]

UNLESS (sanemi x f!reader) Prologue

MDNI, 18+ angst, swearing

Pt 1. >

warnings: arrangedmarriage!au, angst/fluff, MANGA SPOILERS

summary:

You were from a village deep in the mountains, raised in a culture where women were wedding pawns in politics. When your village gets displaced by Muzan Kibutsuji himself, you were offered a place to stay in the Ubuyashiki Estate where you served your gratitude to the Demon Slayer Corps for rescuing you. You were perfectly fine living the rest of your life as a house maiden, until one day…

Prologue (His Request)

-

"Master..." you had no words. How long had you been sitting on this mat? How long had Master Ubuyashiki been staring at you patiently for an answer?

"I'm very much aware of the customs of your clan, my child. You may rest assured this a request with no obligations," he smiled down at you, patting your head gently as if to smooth out the creases of thoughts racing through your mind.

You quietly excuse yourself, catching a last glimpse of his reassuring smile before you chose to hide out in the laundry room for the rest of the night, blankly folding sheets as you mull over the kind master's sudden offer.

--

"Forgive me Master, but where the fuck is this coming from?" Sanemi Shinaguzawa hissed as he side-glared at you.

You kept your eyes trained on the bamboo mat the both of you were kneeling on, too busy remembering the Master's words from last night.

"I've given it much thought y/n, and if I may suggest, it would be a beneficial relationship for Sanemi and you to be wedded-"

"Master--"

"I'm sure you know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could lean on each other in these trying times, especially with Tengen's retirement"

Well if he put it like that, how could you say no to the man who indirectly saved your life? It wasn't as if you had the luxury to desire a certain future; not after your entire life and family burned to the ground when you were 10.

You were turning 20 this year and it was only gracious that the Master thought to ensure your life to come be a comfortable one, with a Hashira, no less. Surely his wisdom must have captured something in the threads that only he could see, to weave into a life best for you.

"If it is what the Master feels is best, it is my honour to fulfill his wishes," you blurted, drawing the attention of the other two men to you.

"I don't even know your fucking name!"

"Y/N"

"Oh well that's fucking great, Y/N! Now that that's settled, let's get married, huh?" he yelled in an exasperated tone.

"Are you questioning Oyakata-sama, Shinaguzawa-san?"

"Why you little--"

A soft chuckle from the Master cuts through the air, stilling your interaction. Sanemi flushed, realising how much closer he had subconsciously gotten to loom over you. Your eyes finally lifted to the black haired man in front of you, a soft blush forming on your cheeks as you realised the fondness in his eyes had the same glint you occasionally caught when he gazed upon his own wife.

Oh you were screwed.

___

A/N: hi its my first time writing in years and I’m a lil rusty, do bear w me as i try to find my writing style again ><

summer’s just getting started so help yourselves to the brew of the day: iced peach tea~

#sanemi angst #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi imagines #kinetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #demon slayer sanemi

[imagine-you]

find the words tag game

tagged by the lovely, amazing, talented @residentdormouse thank you so much my friend!

The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you're given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story if you want. But honestly, guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find: White, Cold, Snow, Frost, Ice, Gloves, Hat, Cocoa (or Tea), Blanket, Snuggle/cuddle

___

White: Found In 'Waiting For the Sun To Go Down' [Eric Northman/Reader]

You knew Eric was shadowing the pair of you, but when you caught a glimpse of a white dress out of the corner of your eye, you were surprised to notice Sookie was there as well.

___

Cold: Found In 'Meet Me Under the Stars' [Daryl Dixon/Reader]

Later, when you were huddled near the fire with your arm wrapped around Carl, you tried to keep from shivering. It was so cold and with winter approaching, you knew that it was going to be rough trying to keep the group fed and warm. You kept your gaze focused on the fire. You were barely aware of the conversation going on around you, but you caught certain snippets of it enough to get the gist of what was going on.

___

Snow: Found In 'I'm Coming For You and I'm Making War' [Johanna Mason/Reader] (yes I'm cheating and this is a fic I haven't posted yet)

It wasn't until the 69th Games were about to kick off that you met President Snow. "Congratulations," he told you. His presence loomed over you and you couldn't help but feel like you were caught in a predator's sight. "It's no small feat to win the Games."

___

Frost: I couldn't find this one in my fics. It might be somewhere, but I lost and didn't find it.

___

Ice: Found In 'writin' you a letter and I don't know where to start' [Steve Harrington/Reader]

Steve groaned and shook his head. "I needed to ice my feet that night because you kept stepping all over them. You couldn't get the timing right."

___

Gloves: Found In 'Love's Strange' [Billy Hargrove/Reader]

Once you got inside, you started pulling off your gloves. "I see you've finally showed up," you heard from in front of you. You glanced up to see Principal Himbry standing there, an unimpressed look on his face. "I had to walk," you offered helplessly.

___

Hat: Found In 'Baby, You're a Haunted House' [Billy Hargrove/Reader]

"Of course not," he backtracked. "I'm always glad to see my number one girl." He froze and then shook his head. "Shit. You know what I mean." Robin was laughing by now, shaking her head as she looked at Steve. "You're hopeless, Harrington." "Shut it, Buckley." Steve grumbled something under his breath and adjusted the hat on his head. You couldn't help but think that it was a shame that his uniform required him to wear the hat. Hiding all of that hair was probably not doing Steve any favors when he doubtlessly flirted with customers. "You need a ride to the pool, Y/N?"

___

Cocoa/Tea: I couldn't find this one either! Which is crazy to me...but coffee might have turned something up.

___

Blanket: Found In 'Time For a Hero to Step Into the Fire' [John/Reader]

You wanted nothing more than to talk to John. Before the world fell apart, he was the person you thought about most. Your feelings for him were just as strong as ever, but you felt like there was a distance between you now. You sighed before you finally managed to speak. "They sent us out today," you started, reaching out to pick at a loose thread on John's blanket. "I heard," John said. "You okay?"

___

Cuddle/Snuggle: I could only find 'cuddling' in one fic and it was 'Tickin' Like a Timebomb' [Klaus Hargreeves/Reader]

Luther considered you and Klaus where you were practically cuddling on the couch. "I guess it's not the most important thing we need to discuss now."

#tag game #tagged in #my writing

[dasom-bh]

starter call??? some plot bunnies for the first event! comment down below with the respective emoji and i’ll get a starter up for our muses! i’m going to try to keep these short (2 paragraphs at most!) so that we can get the most out of these event threads as possible. while i’ll be prioritizing event threads, i will still do my best to get to other replies i owe. however, if you wish to put them on hold for the duration of the event lmk!

🍰 dasom dragging you to the sweetbrier tea house in the early morning hours for a guaranteed shot at trying the new limited items

😘 you and dasom are caught under the mistletoe. do you give in to the holiday superstitions or take the chance of risking bad luck in the new year? (i’ll probably be messaging to figure out which route would be preferred!)

❄️ you witness dasom falling on the ice one too many times. in her embarrassment she tries to pretend that you aren’t there, but her plans are foiled when she winds up crashing right into you

🐴 all she really wanted was a private carriage ride, but the knights insisted that there was a minimum of two people per specialty sleigh. after seeing you in the standard queue, dasom drags you out and begs you to ride along with her

🍽️ as a judge in the crocus baking contest, dasom is responsible for trying each of the dishes presented to the panel. after eating yours, she insists that there is something wrong with it. has it been tampered with or is it simply a difference in tastes?

🥂 the gala had slowed down and you noticed each other. you both thought it would be fun to get some drinks in your system to lighten up your spirits with a slight buzz, but before you knew it, you were both too far gone. the dance floor is looking a little blurry now, but at least you aren’t alone! you and dasom form a drunken camaraderie for the night

#₊˚⊹ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡︎ : ooc

[linnorabeifong]

Happy Birthday To Me... I Guess

Summary: It’s Asami’s twenty-first birthday, but she doesn’t feel like celebrating. That is until an unlikely friend turns her day around with a strange gift that leads Asami to discover her own past and unearth old secrets.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49461007/chapters/124826812#main

Note: This series is a work in progress that started three months ago. I'm already nine chapters deep. Currently writing chapter ten. This work was the second thing I posted to Ao3 so it's very rough, but the plot is fun if you're looking for a light read and like Asami-centric fics. It's focused on her learning about her mother and finding out...inconvenient information along the way. There is some background KyaLin if you're into that. It's slow burn korrasami, and not cannon compliant. The air kiddos and the entire krew are present as background characters as is Opal.

Chapter 1

Today was the big day, September 21st but to Asami it felt like any other. Lonely, busy, cold. She woke up early to an empty house. Brushed her teeth, styled her hair, washed her face, dabbed on perfume and carefully applied her signature red lipstick. She padded downstairs to make herself her usual tea, catching sight of the kitchen telephone through the corner of her eye. Her hands itched with the desire to call up a particular someone. To hear that voice again, to catch up, to just have someone she could talk to honestly. It was futile. Asami turned away, she knew the person on the other end would not pick up. She had tried before. She breathed in sharply, her tea that was hot just a moment ago was now ice to the touch. A tear fell into the cup and then another. She pretended not to notice and returned upstairs to reapply her makeup.

The rest of her day was spent sitting through tedious meetings, listening to investors drone on for what felt like forever. Reviewing budgets, supervising the Sato factories and sketching up plans for new buildings. She fidgeted with the pen in her hands and flipped through her sketchbook, realizing none of her ideas looked quite right. The scale was off, the layout wasn’t practical, where could she find the funding ? It was times like these when she missed her parents. Maybe her mother would have something encouraging to say or perhaps her father, the genius, would have a miraculous idea. To tell the truth she didn’t actually know what they would do. She hadn’t spoken to her father in years and she never really got the chance to know her mother. She glanced over her sketches again, sighed, gave up and returned home early.

To her surprise she found a large package on her doorstep. She brought it inside, sat it on her desk, and inspected it. The pink box had a large blue bow on it, and a piece of paper reading “To ‘Sami” in neat flowing script was tucked away neatly underneath the bow. Despite its size the package was light, and oddly enough smelled strangely familiar. The perfume scent was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She knew she recognized it from somewhere but couldn’t recall exactly where. It was decidedly feminine, velvety, rich but not too heavy. Her curiosity got the better of her. She quickly reached out and unraveled the silk ribbons, eagerly lifting the lid off the box to uncover white tissue paper. She peeled back the delicate paper revealing a stunning floor length dress underneath. It was a snow white, silky affair. The fabric was fine and slightly sheer. She lifted it up in her arms and noticed the tiny jasmine flowers embroidered all over it in silver thread catching the light. The design snaked up the cuffs of the sleeves and the hem of the skirt. Forming an almost star like pattern. It was brilliant. The waist was cinched and emphasized by a silver ribbon. The skirt was voluminous. She sat the dress down and looked into the box to discover the accompanying slip. It was a soft pink and made of a more opaque silk, sleeveless and by the looks of it very form fitting. Cherry blossoms were concentrated along the bust in gold thread, and their petals descended down to the waist.

Asami could see the vision of the dress with the slip underneath in her mind. It was beautiful, the skirt just barely kissing the floor, the clever silhouette flattering her figure, “but why would anyone send me such an elaborate gift ?” she wondered. Then she realized it was her birthday. She forgot her own birthday. She looked at the tag of the dress, hoping it would give her a clue as to its origins. She was not prepared in the slightest for what she saw next. “Yasuko Tanaka” the tag read. Her heart skipped a beat at the familiar name. It couldn’t really be her mother’s, could it ? No, the last name was wrong. Unless…She didn’t know her mother’s maiden name. Could it really be ?

#korra #fanfiction #archive of our own #asami sato #kyalin #korrasami #ao3 #tlok #legend of korra #mystery #romace #mako #bolin

[blue-hamble]

Gentle sunbeams cut through the whispering mist surrounding the Squat Frog Coffee House. It was some time after lunch and Lute had just finished tidying away dried cups and dishes. He was just full enough to start getting sleepy, and it was easy to zone out. Good time to have a nap soon. The sound of creaking cartwheels broke the spiral out of his daydream. A small covered cart rattled along the dirt and flattened grass towards the coffee house. A long-limbed skydancer wearing a sedge hat was at the reins, coaxing her rambra to a halt. She disembarked in one fluid motion, dusting herself off in a delicate manner. Her voice was warm like a bell. "Lute! I have things for you!" "Miss Nita!" (forum thread: https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/3238950/1#post_54364006)

Gunita had vibrant feathered wings that fluttered with butterflies in a sort of glamor. She was seldom without her fox fur and headdress, allowing only her mouth and her warm ember eyes to identify her. A heavy paper bag was part of her collection of pouches and pockets under her cape. She tipped her hat at Lute as she walked into the coffee house. "Got your letter just before I was leaving Earthhome, so I got you souvenirs as promised. Wouldn't miss The Beast's comeback for anything. I apologize for the meltiness, it was already a bit soft when I got it for you. Got some wasteland pears for you too since I was already there." The skydancer set out her gifts from a paper bag, revealing a pennant, and hat, and a magically chilled pawpsicle. The pawpsicle was gray with blue gum drop eyes slightly askew in the likeness of Kaiju Wrestling star Caledus the Beast.

"Thank you, Miss Nita! Man, can't wait for the matches. Haven't watched good wrestling in a while and I've seen the Beast since I was a hatchie. Tell me about your journey here while I make you a cuppa! Put your feet up!" Lute eagerly ushered Gunita to a seat at the bar, grabbing his gifts in one motion. He made a mental note to keep the pawpsicle stick after eating his ice cream. He poured cups of fresh green tea for them both and sat beside the skydancer at the bar with a bowl of toasted crickets. "It was a good trip," she nodded, taking the cup into her slender hands. "Met many who were selling goods during Greenskeeper Gathering not long ago. Business with Laurelnest's trader was interesting--wanted gold in exchange for plants in the Labyrinth, of all things. The Gladekeeper surely homes all sorts. I'm afraid I can't recommend them as gold is not high on Cloud Brush's priorities." "Local business with neighbors has kept us good on produce as of late," Lute supplied through a mouthful of crickets. We recently got into contact with a roaming produce supplier, and she's been really good to have near with more mouths to feed."Clan Florabrisa grows coffee too, which was delightful. Didn't get too much time to talk, but their grower Vroman knows his stuff. I'll make sure to tell Bluebird of them though! Gold is still good to have." She nodded and took a sip of tea, savoring the flavor. "New clan members, huh? Have you opened your gates?" "I suppose so! I only recently joined Cloud Brush myself. Malta is a weaver and painter. Camarines and Carambola ran a little farm previously, so the fields and animals are theirs. And some laundry dragon named Jeith who really likes denim. He really, really likes denim. It's been lively with them around, and we're glad for it..."

Something wiggled a memory in Gunita's mind, like a loosened tooth, as the spiral eagerly chattered. It was years ago, but the snapshot appeared in a wave of calm as tea hit her tongue.

"It's beautiful, Zareen. Thank you..." Gunita traced her fingers on the simple sketch. Each stroke was calculated and controlled, but the young clan leader's approach was softening--something his father had taught him, no doubt.

"It's a memento for you on your travels. I know it's hard to stay for long. You will always be welcome here, my love. I hope one day I can make home...safe again. For everyone." And for you, the unspoken words rang in silence. The merchant nodded, heart twisting in her chest. "Thank you for understanding. I'll...I'll try my best too. Please don't feel you must wait for me to settle. Create your life here and create your joy, and I'll be happy no matter what." Zareen turned to look at her, electric eyes a glassy bright blue, and she knew he understood.

The sound of a screaming kettle broke the skydancer out of her memory. "Oh, water's done! I'll be a minute," Lute sheepishly grinned. He jumped across the counter back to the kitchen, allowing Gunita a pause to collect herself and wipe any stray tears. Things were healing here already, she thought. Her long, low exhale shook her aging bones free. Even if it did take years and years. She thumbed some treasure from her purse and rose to leave, but he waved her off. "Oh souvenirs are payment enough this time, Miss Nita! But please take your time here. Are you going to watch Kaiju Wrestling?! Oh, I bet you'd love The Empress, she's so cool. I think Mister Mac is coming by for a hot chocolate and some snacks, and I know you'd love to see him!" The spiral looked at her with comically large kicked-puppy eyes. Gunita had to laugh. The nap, and any plans of leaving, was left forgotten for at least several hours.

#flight rising clan lore #fr clan lore #dragon share #fr spiral #fr skydancer #skydancer dragon #spiral dragon #clan cloud brush #squat frog coffee house

[ghostlytalkin]

Spill the tea!! What happened with ben i’ve always been skeeved by him/cody

What has not happened with cody/Ben. What has not happened I ask you.

Was told that he was making a character uncomfortable, proceeded to make a text thread "flirting" with said character. When that didn't work made a thread showing up at their house

Complained that people were talking about Ben being in a relationship with another character that was established and the girlfriend told everyone. Proceeded to demand to know why she told people because it was none of their business ( literally was here for that and everyone was talking about who they were dating )

Got upset that DOB was on the banned list and demanded to know why, not happy with the answer

Makes people uncomfortable, when told does not change the behavior or apologizes, just says he's autistic

Made my friend cry

Was literally so rude to the admin of an rp we were in together and blamed them for the rp dying and not plotting with him. They did, I saw the screenshots of them plotting and him just hemming and hawing about the plot ideas then asking if they could hook up

Literally called me out of nowhere, no dms before. (This is just a me thing I find it weird when people I've never messaged before start calling me)

I watched an exchange where somebody said that their female muse wasn't really into men in the ic group chat and Ben asked if he was the exception (I wish I had a screenshot of this)

Makes people uncomfortable af. I know a few have tried to talk to him about it

Driest responder if you are not a fem muse

Every group I've been in it's just Ben, and if he has other characters they aren't used at all, or just barely to let you know they are there

@rpsense has a ton of anons too of people talking about ben/cody as of late but like, my anons be on and open for people to say stuff too. I'm sure I can drag up more stuff I know about him.

Overall he makes me hella uncomfortable, hasn't shown a lot of decency towards my friends or fellow rp partners. I refuse to plot with him, but I also fucking DESPISE Dylan O'brien after the st*rek shippers and this one stiles that was a marvel character’s kid. Not to mention stealing things from a burial site? Disrespectful. Not okay to mess with items of the dead.

#answered #ngl i know too much about problematic rpers and fcs #ive been around for so long #cody ben saga

[sam-glade]

Find the Words Tag

Tagged by @outpost51 here and @card-queen here. Thank you💜

I'll gently tag: @tabswrites @zestymimblo @worldsfromhoney @squarebracket-trick @chauceryfairytales - your words are: honey, fruit, tea, bread.

I don't have enough of The Prince's Shadow written to find half of the words, so back to Gifts of Fate it is for the time being:

From @outpost51: pitch, aid, brother, relief, ceiling

PITCH (Erya and Varré talking)

“I still need to know what exactly you were thinking, pitching Gullin against whatever that kid is.” “I had a hunch.” “A hunch!?” “Yes, a hunch, Erya, that’s how I operate. And it was a damn good hunch at that; that single bout gave us a whole load of information on the demon. Of course I’m assuming it isn’t the only one in existence. We need to know more to prepare.”

AID

They spent the day going through the manor, cleaning the servants’ quarters, and taking stock of their supplies — the officers had brought full packs of long-lasting provisions, as well as spare woollen blankets and small equipment; tinderboxes, first aid kits, and such. They still needed cooking utensils, warm clothes, and more blankets to survive the winter, which they decided to buy the next day in the nearest town that didn’t have an Army outpost.

BROTHER (Marta talking)

“What have you been doing with my brother over the last four months!? You take him away, you force him to live in this hole.” She raised her voice. Lissan stirred, but she didn’t let anyone get a word in edgewise. Gullin watched her warily. She didn’t pose a direct risk to the Swords, but Lissan— “And that… that thing was put in his head by you, by the Army. No, I don’t care that whoever did it went rogue, that they weren’t officially told to do it. It’s wrong! It’s your mess to tidy up, so get on with it!”

RELIEF

“I’d rather you weren’t involved,” he said quietly. Ianim gaped. “I promised your sister that I’d keep you as safe as I can.” Ianim squeezed his eyes shut, so that the betrayal he felt wouldn’t show in them. He controlled his breathing and prepared an argument — a logical argument that he’d also present to his prince, if he weren’t such a coward — that his abilities were only going to waste when— “But, I can’t stop you from coming with us,” Lissan said, before Ianim opened his mouth. “So just… remember that, please?” Ianim smiled as relief welled in him.

CEILING

He’d thought about it constantly for the six hours he’d been locked up — he’d estimated the passage of time by the sky’s colour changing; a little rectangle of it was visible through a barred window right below the arched ceiling. He’d gone over every word he’d said and heard that day — from the Usurper, and from the Generals. The Nameless’s incessant commentary had made him lose the thread of thoughts many times, but the demon had pointed out one thing: the Usurper didn’t use his Sword on Lissan even once, and Lissan had good reasons to believe it.

~*~

From @card-queen: shuffle, entrance and satisfying

SHUFFLE

“I always knew you can be reasonable,” the Usurper said with approval. “Do take a seat.” Lissan kept looking at the Sword. The Stork flexed its fingers, and more ice crept up the spikes, encasing the Weapon further, although not bending it. Yet. Lissan shuffled to the nearest settee that offered him a clear view of both the Sword and the Usurper. He perched on the edge of the seat, and grimaced when he sank into the plush cushion. “Make yourself comfortable, please. Would you like some refreshments?”

ENTRANCE

The cottage atop the hill was tiny, huddled under a blanket of thatch, peeking from behind an almost bare dogwood tree to the side of the entrance — Dad had planted it there forty-five ago, when he bought this little rocky plot of land. Partially hidden behind the house, stood the woodshed, the chicken coop, and Dad’s wood workshop. Marta was waiting for them in the doorway.

SATISFYING (CW: creepy intrusive thoughts)

Ianim demonstrated the movements with infinite patience, and corrected Lissan’s position and the way he held the dull practice sword, arranging Lissan’s limbs with gentle nudges and inevitably making his cheeks flush. You’d want his hands on other parts of you, wouldn’t you, the demon hissed, and Lissan winced away from Ianim. Ianim looked at him in a silent question, but didn’t press. From then on, he avoided physical contact without a word or even an odd look, and Lissan had to accept that it was for the best. It let him focus on the training. It wasn’t an enthralling activity, to repeat the same movement over and over, dozens upon dozens of times, but there was something satisfying about getting it to feel right.

#gifts of fate #find the word tag #tag game #writeblr #writeblr tag game