#Circular Avatar Flutter

[ionicfirebaseapp]

Circle Avatar Flutter

GFAvatar is a Flutter Avatar which is an image basically used to display the user's picture in the profile section. GFAvatar has different shapes wherein the popular is a circle avatar flutter. For more information, visit https://docs.getwidget.dev/gf-avatar/

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

love

Written for Day 7 of @aangweek! Read here on AO3.

~*~

7. love - don’t got nowhere to go / so we’ll go with the flow / yeah, we’re living the life / sippin’ on sunshine

“I can help clean,” Aang offered as Iroh began clearing their group’s cups and plates from the circular wooden table.

Iroh chuckled, shaking his head. “There’s no need -”

“I insist,” Aang interrupted, standing and collecting his own dishes. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for closing the shop early so we could be together without politicians and paparazzi peering over our shoulders.”

“There’s no use arguing with him,” Toph commented before Iroh could protest further. “Once Twinkle Toes decides to help someone, nothing will change his mind. Accept your fate, Iroh.”

Katara laughed along with the rest of their friends, and Aang gave them a guilty grin.

“Hey, I learned from my wife-to-be,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Katara’s forehead. “Never turn my back on people who need me!”

Katara rolled her eyes at his comment, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Aang and Iroh gathered the last of the group’s dishes before disappearing into the kitchen.

Zuko hummed in contentment, draping an arm around Mai’s shoulders. “I wish we could meet up like this more often. Be together without all the chaos.”

Today had involved an annual meeting of important representatives from all four nations, this year hosted by the Earth King. In other words, Katara knew, it was a very rare opportunity for their friend group to reunite in full. Only after the day’s politics had ended, of course.

Sokka snorted. “I agree, but you’ve gotta admit it’s pretty much impossible for this to be a regular event.”

“Ember Island is always open for an impromptu vacation,” Mai reminded them, earning more laughter from the group.

“I might take you up on that soon,” Suki mused, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and shaking her head. “A vacation is sounding more and more attractive with every second.”

Katara allowed herself a breathy sigh. “Spirits, if I could get Aang to take a vacation…” She snorted. “That would be the day.” Her fiancé was notoriously stubborn about working until he dropped. In fact, there was only one other person whose work ethic could compare.

Mai chuckled. “Zuko is exactly the same. Always working himself into the ground.”

Ah, yes. There it was.

Toph snickered. “Sounds like a match made in the Spirit World. Are you guys sure Zuko and Aang shouldn’t be the ones getting married next month?”

Zuko flushed a shade of scarlet as bright as his fire. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

Katara bit her tongue to hold back a snicker as Toph grinned at him. “Yes, I’m very aware.” Her grin narrowed into a sly smirk. “You’re sitting right here, and yet you deny nothing.”

Sokka burst out laughing, lightly elbowing Zuko in the ribs. “She’s got you there, hotman.”

Mai snorted at the nickname before giving Katara a play-sympathetic look. “Master Katara, how do you cope with the fact that my husband and yours-to-be are in love with each other?”

Katara sighed, leaning back in her chair and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, it was incredibly difficult for me to come to terms with.” She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “After I learned they’d kissed, I thought I’d never -”

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko groaned, burying his face in his hands at the same time Toph exclaimed, “Sparky and Twinkle Toes have kissed?!”

Katara couldn’t feign her melodrama any longer, letting herself succumb to a fit of intense laughter that made her entire upper body shake.

“Yes, they have,” Mai confirmed with a smirk. “It was hilarious, and I will never let Zuko hear the end of it.”

Zuko stared dead into the distance, his empty expression screaming that he’d rather be anywhere but there. “You’re going to tell them the story, aren’t you.”

The melancholic certainty with which he spoke was enough to make Katara snicker once more as she gave Mai a knowing glance, but before the Fire Lady could respond, Sokka spoke.

“Of course they’re going to tell us the story,” he scoffed. “The Avatar and the Fire Lord kissing? That’s the kind of thing you pass on forever to future generations!”

Suki laughed. “You sound way too invested for someone who has also kissed the Avatar,” she teased, smirking at her boyfriend.

Katara raised an eyebrow in amusement. Now that was news to her. “You did what, Sokka?”

Blood rushed to her brother’s face. “Not on the lips!” he squawked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am just very comfortable in my feminine side around Aang.” He tapped his cheek. “So yes, we have technically kissed, but not like that.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure we’ve all been on the receiving end of Aang’s affection in some way or another,” Suki conceded. “That’s just his way of expressing love.”

A smile flitted onto Katara’s lips at her friend’s words. She knew most of all, perhaps, how Aang inclined towards physical affection. He was especially fond of kissing the tip of her nose.

“Really?” Sokka said, bewildered. “What, does he have a ‘thing’ with each one of us?”

Suki shrugged. “I mean, I guess so?” She smirked at their group. “Aang and I have a special, top-secret handshake. That’s our thing.”

Katara laughed. “I remember when Aang was just beginning to figure out the motions he wanted to include in your handshake.” She held her own hands up in joking surrender. “I was never privy to the final product, of course. Only experimental aspects.”

Sokka pouted. “First of all, I am hurt that I was never told this handshake existed. And second” - wounded, he placed a hand over his heart - “how come I don’t have a handshake with him?”

Suki rolled her eyes. “Babe, you said yourself that your thing with Aang is cheek kisses.”

Sokka appeared unconvinced. “Yeah, but I’m not the only one who gets cheek kisses from him.” He jutted his thumb towards his sister. “Katara gets them all the time!”

“Katara is also going to marry him, Snoozles,” Toph said with a snort. “I don’t think it’s totally off-base to consider she might have a few additional privileges compared to the rest of us.”

“Katara might be the one who snagged the Avatar,” Mai drawled, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, “but I think it’s safe to assume that everyone in here had a crush on Aang at some point in their life.”

Katara burst out laughing both at Mai’s declaration and the different forms of denial that followed. She’d long since accepted the reality that Aang’s charm meant many people would fall for him. And if anything, it made her feel even luckier that she was the one preparing for a wedding.

Mai appeared to thrive on the chaos she’d incited. The Fire Lady had clearly been spending more - maybe too much - time with Aang. “I don’t know why you’re all so up in arms about this,” she commented, studying her nails. “When I saw him dressed up for Zuko and I’s wedding, I wondered if I was marrying the right man after all.”

Zuko choked at her words, and Mai laughed as she patted him on the back. “Kidding. But I did think Aang was the best-looking man at the reception.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Zuko, who sighed, shoulders slumping. “No, I agree with her.” He flushed, his eyes dropping to the table. “Aang was definitely the most attractive person there.”

Katara remembered that outfit of her fiancé’s fondly. Saffron robes that danced the line between classy and casual, as fitting for an Air Nomad Avatar. And perhaps she recalled the attire begrudgingly, too, as it had attracted both wanted and unwanted attention towards her then-boyfriend at the reception.

“I’ll admit my heart fluttered the first time Aang returned to Kyoshi Island after the war,” Suki mused. “I hadn’t expected him to get so tall.”

Sokka gave his girlfriend an affronted look. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t I there -”

Suki silenced him with a finger over his lips. “Sokka. We both spent that weekend discussing how hot Aang had gotten. Don’t deny it.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You were planning to make some moves on Aang?”

Sokka’s face reddened. “You know what?” he finally said. “Maybe in another life. I’ll leave it at that.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Toph,” Mai commented, giving the earthbender a small smirk. “When did you realize you had a crush on ‘Twinkle Toes’?”

Toph crossed her arms over her chest, which Katara noted with amusement did nothing to hide the rosy blush coloring her friend’s cheeks. “Never. Because unlike all of you, I’m blind and therefore cannot be affected by Aang’s so-called ‘good looks.’”

“Aw, but Aang is so much more than his looks,” Katara teased, unable to remain out of the chaos Mai had incited any longer. “What got you, Toph? His voice? His jokes? His incessant kindness towards anyone and anything?”

Toph opened her mouth before slamming it shut. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll tell you. On one condition.” She pointed at Zuko. “I still want to know how Sparky and Aang locked lips.”

Mai snickered at her husband’s misfortune, and Katara herself couldn’t help but laugh as Zuko muttered a variety of curses under his breath.

“An easy deal,” Katara agreed. “Now tell us - what got you?”

Toph exhaled a resigned sigh. “His voice,” she grumbled, and the table burst into another round of laughter and cheers. Really, they were lucky that Iroh or even Aang himself hadn’t returned to investigate all the noise.

“Honestly, no one can blame you there,” Sokka remarked, shaking his head. “Who could have predicted Aang would grow up the way he did?”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother, though she doubted the expression was as intimidating as she intended it to be. “Really?”

“Okay, well, except for you -”

“Enough chatter!” Toph interrupted, slamming a fist on the table. A smirk pulled at her lips. “Sparky? Storytime?”

Zuko groaned. “Remember how I said I wished we could all meet up more often?” He shook his head. “I take it back.”

Suki laughed. “Stop whining and get on with the story, Zuko.”

“Or else I’ll tell it for you,” Mai added, slipping her hand into her husband’s. Katara couldn’t deny the story would be funnier if Mai told it, as she’d already heard it a dozen times from her friend.

Zuko sighed. “It’s not even an exciting story.” He rolled his eyes. “I was going over some paperwork with Aang and Mai. At one point, Aang was called away for - for Avatar business, or something.” He huffed. “Aang went to give me a ‘goodbye kiss’” - Zuko pointed to his forehead - “because that’s his ‘thing’ with me, I guess. But I didn’t realize what he was doing, so I looked up to ask him a question, and we -”

“- and you accidentally kissed?” Sokka finished flatly. “Aw, man! That is boring.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Such a letdown.”

“What Zuko conveniently forgets to mention every time he tells this story,” Mai said, amused, “is that he leaned into the kiss.”

Toph burst out laughing as Zuko adamantly protested that no, he had not, no matter what his wife said. “So,” the earthbender said amidst her snickers, “what I’m hearing is that Zuko never really got over his crush on Aang?”

“No, he did not,” Mai mused. “But it’s not like I can hold that against him. Having a crush on Aang is perfectly understandable.”

“If it’s any consolation, Zuko,” Katara said, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin atop her hands as she gave the firebender a devilish grin, “Aang thinks you’re a pretty good kisser.”

Her comment set their group off for the umpteenth time, and Katara snickered at the rollercoaster of emotions roaring over Zuko’s face. There was nothing better than sparking a little chaos every now and then, was there?

Huh. Aang had rubbed off on her, too. She supposed being engaged to him would do that.

“Uh… I feel like I missed something here?”

Katara bit the inside of her cheek to contain her laughter as Aang dropped into his seat beside her. “Oh, no. You didn’t miss anything.”

Aang stared with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment at their friends, who were yet to collect themselves. “Are you sure? What did you guys talk about without me?”

Katara hummed noncommittally, shrugging. “Nothing special.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Just how much we love you.”

~*~

more of aang being adored by his friends in fanworks 2k21, please and thank you. i hope you enjoyed my collection of ficlets for the week, and as always - thank you for reading!

[damianwaynerocks]

Zuko & The Waynes

tag list: @bi-fr0000g​

batfam x avatar crossover

PT 1

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

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

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

-

Fire Navy Ship, Near the South Pole, Earth 24

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

Crime Alley, Gotham City, Earth 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gotham City," the hulking man replied.

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

He'd never heard of Gotham City.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," Batman replied. The man sighed.

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

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

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

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

"Five cylinder engine."

"That makes no sense."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shower?" Zuko asked.

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

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

Away from Uncle Iroh.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could get used to this.

-

Zuko was nine.

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

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

"ZUKE!"

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

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

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

"Did you have any dreams?"

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

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

"But it's so early!"

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

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

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

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

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

tim: ??? why

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

jason: take the bat mobile i dare you

dick: no we're taking my mustang

jason: coward

dick: ANYWAY

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

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

tim: SINCE NOBODY ELSE IN THIS FAMILY WILL

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

jason: yeah he's at emiko's

duke: OH SHIT

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

jason: that's not what Roy said, brat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dick, wasn't that a whistle?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

tim: zuko did you like the coffee

zuko: yes

tim: ok good we r going to Starbucks tomorrow

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

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

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

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

zuko: what time?

tim: 9 so u can sleep in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. I did."

_

"WAKE UP!"

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

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

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

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

"Very different."

"How so?"

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

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

"What's the first?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This family didn't make any sense.

_

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

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Nervous?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat]

I guess there are worse ways to be distracted

AO3

Pairing: Korrasami (Korra x Asami)

Premise: this post by @lilhawkeye3 - I’ve also been trying to get the writing spark back and I’ve been in some Korrasami feels recently, so I took the prompt and banged something out really quick. 

Rating: G

Word count: ~800

Notes: a bit of fluff

--

It was just her luck, Korra thought as she wringed her hands together, resisting the temptation to scratch at any of the rashes on her face and neck. What was supposed to be a peaceful hiking vacation across the Earth Kingdom had been derailed because she found a flower in the forest and brushed its petals across her face. Then again, how was she supposed to know that the flower would give her rashes so itchy and hot that fire felt cool by comparison?

After Korra had broken out in hives, she and Asami stopped to make camp for the night. Asami sat next to her by their campfire, using a pestle to grind up a handful of bacui berries in a bowl.

“Can’t believe I almost grabbed some maka’ole berries instead of these,” Asami commented as she worked, “otherwise you’d go blind in addition to the rashes. Thanks to Jinora’s lectures I could spot the difference.”

That was right, Korra thought. Jinora had lectured her and Asami on the native flora and fauna of the Earth Kingdom before they left for vacation. She wracked her brain trying to remember if Jinora said anything about flowers with white and red petals, but came up empty.

"Good thing one of us was paying attention when she was talking about the white jade plants,” Asami added pointedly.  

White jade. That sounded vaguely familiar.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Korra sighed. “I, uh, I think I got distracted when Jinora was talking about white jade plants. Now it seems I’ve learned about them the hard way.” She punctuated her sentence with an awkward, uneasy chuckle. 

Asami didn’t respond immediately. She dipped two fingers into the bowl, collecting some berry paste and rubbing it between her fingers and thumbs to inspect the consistency. From there she collected some more paste onto her fingers and turned to Korra.

“Really? What happened to that Avatar mindfulness?” she asked teasingly as she began rubbing the paste onto Korra’s neck in slow, circular motions. Korra hissed at the pressure of Asami’s fingers against her rash, light as it was.

“I remember Jinora showed us pictures of these beautiful pink flowers that grow on either side of Serpent’s Pass, and then I started thinking about the restaurant we went to for our anniversary because they had pink flowers as decorations, and then I remembered how beautiful you looked that night, and … yeah.”

She felt a flush of guilt and embarrassment course through her: here she was, the Avatar, able to stop ten thousand years of darkness from consuming the world but still lose her focus over some flowers. 

Asami smiled gently. “Well, I guess there are worse ways to be distracted.” She moved onto the rashes on Korra’s face: one along her jaw and chin, and another cutting across her cheek, temple, and up to her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” said Korra, casting her eyes down to the ground. “This was supposed to be fun and stress-free, and you’re stuck taking care of me because I couldn’t pay attention.”

“Don’t be,” Asami replied. “Remember when I sprained my ankle back around Omashu and you healed me with waterbending? We’re looking out for each other, and we take care of each other.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Korra nodded, offering Asami a weak smile. Asami smiled back, vibrant green eyes meeting Korra’s blue.

“How are you feeling?”

Korra took a moment to focus on her rashes. They still itched, but not as much, and the bacui berry paste felt cool and refreshing against her inflamed skin.

“Better, it’s working. And I can still see, so definitely not maka’ole berries.”

“Good!” Asami set her bowl aside and grabbed a handkerchief so she could wipe the residual paste off her fingers. When she was done she sat against a tree and extended an arm out to Korra. “Come here, you.”

Korra immediately scooted over to join Asami at the tree and leaned in, resting her head on the crook between Asami’s neck and shoulder. The two of them sat together in silence, watching the bright dancing flames of the campfire. Korra soon felt Asami’s fingers in her hair, lightly grazing along her scalp, locks being twirled through fingers. It was soothing, gentle, helped her take her mind off the pain and itchiness of the rashes. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out a deep exhale. Asami was right: they had each other, they would take care of each other.

“Love you, Asami,” she said.

“I love you too, Korra.” Asami pressed her lips to the top of Korra’s head.

[volkswagonblues]

👀👀👀👀👀👀

LONG SNIPPET FOR ALL FIVE PAIRS OF EYES @dreamrena

[from my role reversal AU, where the Northern Water Tribe attacked a century ago, and now Zuko and Azula are the siblings looking for the long-lost Avatar. Sokka is a normal guy (well, normal prince of the SWT) who gets caught up in their craziness...]

Aang’s body laid there like an accusation.

“It’s the afterdrop from the freeze,” Sokka mumbled. “It’s causing a cardiac rhythm disturbance, Some healers say it’s because of an erratic electric impulse. They think the human body has lightning in it, which is interesting, because—"

Azula’s hands moved. “How do you fix it?” Zuko translated.

“Fix it?” Sokka repeated with a touch of hysteria. “I don’t know. You get a healer. You work a miracle and make his heart beating again. There’s no fixing a stopped heart. You can’t just—what is Azula doing?”

With her index and middle fingers pressed together, Azula was drawing an invisible circular pattern in the air. The sweet and pungent smell of ozone appeared from nowhere. She paused for an infinitesimal moment, and even as Sokka connected the dots in his mind, she jabbed her finger down, and a crackling arc of lightning bolted into Aang’s chest. 

The smell of ozone was replaced by the smell of burnt flesh and wool – Azula hadn’t bothered to remove Aang’s yellow robe, and now there was a round, charred hole in the middle of the fabric. Sokka stared down. In the long silence that followed, he found his words again: “Did you–did you just shoot the Avatar with lightning?”

Azula lifted an eyebrow. Her expression was so full of derision that, without even needing to speak, her resounding duh echoed between Sokka’s ears like a gong.

"You’re crazy,” he said flatly.

“Azula does everything for a reason,” Zuko snapped, sounding annoyed that Sokka was even doubting his sister. “You’ll see.”

Sokka opened his mouth to argue, but then – Aang’s eyelashes fluttered. 

“Fuck,” he breathed instead, and Azula rolled her eyes.

“I told you,” Zuko said peevishly.

Aang groaned, a soft fluting sound, and the three of them forgot their petty squabbles and leaned forward as one. They watched, breathless, as one eyelid twitched, and then another. A pair of slate-coloured eyes opened; it was dazed and dilated from pain, but unmistakably alive. Sokka’s breath caught in his throat. The boy took a small, hiccuping breath, like a newborn baby, then opened his mouth:

“I need...” he whispered.

“What?” Zuko asked, his own eyes alight with wonder. “What is it?”

“Please...” Aang groaned. “Come closer.”

Spellbound, the three of them leaned in. Here was Sokka’s missing puzzle piece, Zuko’s great, starry-eyed hope. The answer to a century-long mystery. A boy from an iceberg, and now he was about to utter his first words in a century. Zuko was making a face like he was about to cry. Even Azula looked grudgingly awed.

“What is it?” Zuko said.

A sudden grin. “Will you go penguin sledding with me?”

Zuko blinked. His mouth fell open. Above his head, Sokka and Azula traded a look. 

“Fuck,” Sokka said again, and sighed. “Azula, I think your lightning left him brain damaged.”

[unlockthelore]

Acceptance

On the beginnings of a journey, Aang and Zuko have a small talk which leads to rehashing a revelation.

This is part of the Peace Is A Journey series on Ao3. For more fics in this series, follow the peace is a journey tag on this blog.

In spite of his ties to the Water Tribe, and his past lives as a water bender, Aang felt uneasy on a boat.

It could have been because several of the kidnapping attempts or attempts on his life were done while at sea. Although, he could still smell the smoldering metal of warships surrounded by charred earth when he closed his eyes, dismissing the explanation promptly.

Wherever the discomfort came from — it was rigidly set within his memories. Out of the behest of the Southern Water Tribesmen, they set sail with one of their boats on a moonlit night. When the winds died, Aang bent air against the ship’s sails, careful not to disturb the sea. Circular motions spun currents around his fingertips like thread and manifested in a spherical tunnel filling the sails til they were fit to burst.

Water creaked along the ship’s hull as the sea rocked the vessel to the command of the tide and its moon. Aang wandered to the ship’s bow and watched as the yellow lantern swayed on the chill salty breeze. His hand brushed against the light brown trimming. It would be awhile yet before they found their destination but he was never one to be unprepared. Heart thudding heavily, Aang looked to the horizon and lamented the last of the glaciers drifting past them revealing naught else but open sea.

It wouldn’t be long now and he hardly knew how he would face them all. Words rolled about in mind were cast aside and lost as he stared past the ship’s side toward the ocean depths.

Aang felt the encroaching presence at his back as he leant against the railing, arms folded and pressed to the wood’s smooth varnish. “Couldn’t sleep?”

The unease twisting throughout his body seemed to be voiced in Zuko’s glum tone, a throat-scratching scoff being the firebender’s only response. Aang thought of Sokka below deck working furiously on the accounts of their ventures. Quick strokes of his brush and mumbling under his breath by the yellow glow of lamplight. Undoubtedly what roused Zuko from his restless sleep considering how many times Sokka bid Zuko to rekindle the light once it began to dim.

With little fanfare, Zuko shouldered his way to Aang’s side and turned his back, leaning against the bow’s rail. His dark hair fluttered and whipped every which way as he tipped his head back, seeming to enjoy the breeze. Aang smiled. Without the crease in his brow or the tension to his shoulders, Zuko was the picture of serenity. His seemingly permanent scowl was just a side-effect of years without smiling. Something easily rectified.

While Aang thought of a way to fill the silence between them with a trick or question or two, he couldn’t help but think about all of the times the two of them met on a ship’s bow. Or their first meeting in fact. When he found himself confused that the so-called villain after him was only a few years older than him.

“When you said I was just a teenager…” Zuko murmured, his voice distant and softer than Aang was accustomed to, surprising him with its lightness amidst the sea’s noise. “I didn’t think about it much at the time.”

Aang raised a brow then inclined his head, a hum buzzed in his throat. Silver light shone in Zuko’s eyes and Aang glanced over his shoulder at the full moon bearing down upon them. Was Yue looking down upon them, he wondered. Shining her light so that they could find their way to those who were lost?

“So,” Aang mumbled as the silence dragged on longer than he was comfortable with. “What has you thinking about it now? The you’re just a teenager thing.”

Zuko sniffed, rubbing a hand down the side of his face, then leaning back on his elbows. “You’re just a kid,” he uttered. “I was thinking this must be hard on you.”

Bewildered, Aang stared at him. He recalled Zuko saying those words to him with a touch more confusion and apprehension. The years had changed them. Trials, tribulations, upsets, victories, and losses — molded them into who they were now. His hopes had been realized that they could be friends but it was in moments like this, that he realized how much was still between them. Standing upright, Aang pressed his hand flat to the wood and looked out to the horizon.

His friends could understand many things about him. They shouldered the burden, the weight, and carried him as much as he tried to help them. But there were some things that simply couldn’t be put into words. Aang glanced up to the sky as he searched for an answer.

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m —”

“The Avatar,” Zuko interjected, the indifference in his voice rattling Aang’s sense. Golden eyes, piercing in their blatant interest and concern, met his own. “Did you want to be?”

Though Aang’s lips parted, no answer came forth. What question was that? He was meant to be the Avatar since birth. It was what he’d chosen to be and strove to be. Saving the world was necessary and he was a component in that. His state as the Avatar, a deciding factor in what the future would hold. Somehow though, he knew none of those answers would satisfy Zuko at all. The fire bender seemed to take his silence as answer enough and tilted his head away. Aang’s eyes shuttered and he stared down at the sea’s churning waters.

“My uncle said destiny is what we choose. You didn’t choose to be the Avatar. You accepted it, and what came with it. That’s why this trip is necessary…”

A heavy weight settled on Aang’s shoulder and he glanced up in time to see Zuko looking down at him. His eyes, rounded and half-lidded, reminded him almost of Iroh. A gentle squeeze to his shoulder preluding words that pierced Aang’s heart.

“You have to figure out what it means to be Aang.”

[langdxn]

salvation part iii: bloody angel | outpost!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Michael’s pregnant wife meets a familiar face in the Outpost. Is she in danger?

WARNINGS: SMUT. Breeding kink, vaginal sex, fingering, pregnancy, childbirth, blood play, blood ritual, dom!Michael, daddy!Michael, some soft!Michael, angst, messing with the original plot. Basically it’s filthy.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

A/N: I promised serious smut in this chapter and I delivered like HELL. Heavily influenced by Avatar’s Bloody Angel I’ve had stuck in my head for days.

part i // part ii // part iv // part v

Every corridor in the underground Hawthorne Outpost looked identical to the last. You’d been half-running down so many twists and turns, you’d surely escaped the perimeter where that authoritative female voice had come from.

Find our sisters. What was that supposed to mean? Were there witches in the Outpost already? Everybody was dead, or at least you’d seen enough bodies to assume that was everybody this Outpost once housed.

That means someone’s coming to search the Outpost.

Time to pick a door in these endless alleyways and hide out until you hear the signal Michael warned you about.

Noticing the door at the far end of the corridor ahead of you had been left slightly ajar, warm yellow light pouring through the portal, it seemed as good a hiding place as any. Pacing nervously toward the light, you creaked the door open as softly as possible and clicked it shut behind you. Allowing your eyes to adjust to the gentle candlelight in the room, your eyes laid upon a large pentagram scrawled on the tiled floor in blood encircled by shallow, spent candles seconds away from extinguishing.

Leaning back against the door behind you, you slid your spine down its rough surface to drop to the floor, landing a curious finger into the pool of maroon scribbles. As your fingertip made contact with the blood, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a surreal vision appeared before you.

“May you rise from the void, Father,” Michael’s voice beckoned in your mind as the overbearing scent of copper stung your senses. “May your darkness guide me.”

Your vision painted a clear picture of Michael kneeling dead centre of the bloody diagram, completely naked but for fresh streams of crimson trailing down his pale skin, dipping into the curves of his muscles and scoring rough lines down his biceps. Desperation dappled across his countenance as his brows furrowed with confusion, staring up at the ceiling as if seeking a point to focus on.

“Power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses, power in your name to be strong within,” he chanted with purpose, with fervour, with determination as he coursed the blade down his arteries. A harsh groan died on his lips as the knife deftly split open the delicate flesh on his forearm, pouring a cascade of blood onto the tiles beneath him.

“I thought I destroyed them all. One survives. I found her, she’s here.” Your eyes widened in horror.

“I beg for your wisdom. Please, Father, open my eyes!” your husband cried helplessly into the void, scouring the sky for a sign, any sign that his calls were being answered.

Your vision darted around the room as you wracked your brains for answers. How did he know you were a witch? You had spent all your years by his side blocking every single one of your powers from him.

When a woman named Cordelia Goode knocked on your door to offer you salvation in the form of Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies well over a decade ago, you slammed the door in her face. You resented your ‘gift’ of sight, your ‘talent’ for conjuring spells, your ‘flair’ for the supernatural. You were a stubborn adolescent who saw no attraction in spending your teenage years among other witches, helping each other identify their powers, harness their abilities. High school was traumatic enough without your enemies having the ability to snap your neck with a flick of their obnoxious teenage bangs.

Had your husband really worked out who you were, or was he talking about another witch? If he suspected you, why was he so kind to you earlier? You’d pushed every thought of your powers back into the dark recesses of your mind, how could he possibly find them if he couldn’t even predict your arrival in the Outpost? His powers were pointless around you, your own talents so guarded that even the Antichrist felt disarmed by you.

Your vision snapped back into the delicately lit room, the pentagram empty of Michael’s naked form. Instinctively grasping at your bump at the morbid thought of how much blood your love had lost in this ritual, you traced the raised pattern of scars scored across your unborn baby’s home.

———

“Fuck, Michael I’m gonna—“ your walls constricted around Michael’s length, plunged so deep inside you that you swore you could feel his cock all the way up in your throat. You snaked your legs around his waist and trailed both arms around his neck, begging him to embrace you as you give in to your climax.

“No you’re not, Mrs Langdon,” Michael slowed his thrusts inside you to an agonisingly glacial pace as your arms dropped from his shoulders, a wanting cry dripping off your tongue as you lost contact. “Daddy’s not finished with you yet.”

Michael reached across you to the bedside cabinet for his elegantly carved ceremonial knife, a determined grin dancing across his lips. He pointed its glistening blade toward your stomach and gazed down at you from beneath his menacing eyebrows, searching for your approval for his next move. You strained to nod between frantic, anticipating pants and dropped your head back to the sheets beneath you, grabbing fistfuls of the blood red silk pooling around your entwined forms.

A sharp, cool sensation traced across your bare abdomen, replaced swiftly by a searing heat as your flesh ripped tenderly beneath the blade. Michael’s cock twitched inside you as your insides tightened around his length, bucking your hips up into him and scratching down his thighs between your legs as the knife tickled and turned you on at the same time.

Chuckling under his breath at your desperate search for friction, Michael drew skilful straight lines connecting to each other over your bare skin, his tongue darting across his full lips as he concentrated.

“Now what does that greedy little cunt of yours want daddy to do now?” He hissed down over you, leaning his head as he inspected each angle of the angry wounds adorning your abdomen. His work had to be perfect or the ritual wouldn’t succeed.

“Please daddy,” was all you could muster as the metallic scent of fresh blood flooded your senses and dried out your mouth. Apparently that wasn’t enough communication for your husband, as he dug the knife deeper into your abdomen making you hiss against your clenched teeth.

“I didn’t quite hear you darling, what was that?”

“Please breed me, daddy,” your back arched as you finally said the words out loud. Those intimate words had danced around your mind ever since the first time you made love, when Michael placed a flat, expectant palm across your abdomen and a smile spread along his expressive lips. It was an unspoken engagement between you that he would one day ask you — or rather demand you — to help him rebuild the world in his father’s design. That being said, you never thought past the act of conception, never prepared yourself for a pregnancy or childbirth, you simply assumed that would come naturally to you when the time came.

“Good girl,” he praised in his typical pseudo-demeaning manner he reserved for the bedroom. After engraving a final circular motion, he wiped away the emerging crimson beads to follow the pattern scored into your stomach, leaning back to admire his work. Carelessly casting the knife across the room, he let out a pornographic growl as he took in the sight of you - his beautiful wife, legs spread wide open beneath him, his cock buried balls deep inside you, your stomach bleeding feverishly and your walls jolting with pleasure around him.

You lifted your head to look down to his scrawls, discovering a shallow pentagram scored into your abdomen, coursing veiny trails of crimson across your skin. Your eyes blazed a trail of pure ecstasy up his body to meet his pitch black irises, wanting and demonic. He leaned down to tower over you, bracing himself with both fists on the bed, allowing him the freedom to slowly drive his cock into you again.

“Now, where were we?” He seethed as he carefully increased the tempo of his length slithering into your folds. “Oh yes, you were about to cum, weren’t you angel?”

The tip of Michael’s cock grazed your sensitive spot with intent, as if he could instinctively aim for it whenever he needed you to climax all over him. The g spot was no thing of wonder to the Antichrist, simply a button he knew he could push whenever the occasion called for it. Rolling his hips effortlessly into you, pounding your pussy so hard the filthy sounds of slapping, sweaty skin echoed through your bed, the floorboards and even the chandelier above you.

Noticing your back arching involuntarily towards him and your arms snaking around his back to claw your nails down his spine, Michael knew you were close but he couldn’t hold his own orgasm much longer.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me like a good little whore.”

With a fervent twitch, his cock pulsed deep inside you and spilled his release against your walls. Meeting his pitch black gaze, the sight of your husband convulsing as he came and the sensation of your walls fluttering against his twitching length set the fire inside you ablaze as your nails scratched deeper into his back.

“Just like that baby, let daddy fill up your pretty little cunt.”

With a final thrust of his load deep inside you, you unleashed an animalistic moan signalling your own climax, your eyes retreating to the back of your head and your legs constricting tightly and shaking uncontrollably around him. Riding out your orgasms together, he slipped both arms under your back and raised you up to meet him in a tight, loving embrace.

“I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he reassured you in his effortlessly seductive tone that could have easily set you into orgasm all over again. Peppering delicate kisses around your collarbone and tracing up to your ear, his breath burning against your skin, Michael sighed gently and swung his head back to look you deep in the eyes. His effortless transition from dominant demon to sympathetic lover never ceased to surprise you, blinking his piercing black eyes closed for them to return to his dreamy azure irises once again. In the blink of an eye, he morphed into the tender human being you fell in love with, the romantic man you married and for whom you sold your soul.

“Did I hurt you baby?” He placed a gentle hand down to your wounds, the congealing blood sticking to his palm as you shook your head weakly. You tried to lose yourself in the tender moment between you but you couldn’t ignore the seeping feeling between your folds, the obscene mixture of both of your releases slowly flowing out onto your legs.

“Lie back down for me,” he cooed as he gestured you down onto the crimson sheets. Crawling on top of you once more, he leaned down to plant a searing kiss on your abdomen: defiled, marked, owned. Working his way down between your legs, Michael dipped two ringed fingers into the fluids dripping down your thighs and slipped them back inside your folds.

“Can’t have any of this going to waste when we’re building the new world, can we angel?”

———

Fingertips following the twists and turns of the scar tissue across your bump, you heard heavy footsteps approaching the door you were pressed up against. Decidedly male, you convinced yourself those footsteps were Michael’s, coming to look for you, to help you. You scrambled to your feet and yanked the heavy door open, searching the corridor ahead for any sign of your husband’s golden curls. As you turned to look down another corridor, your breath was knocked out of your chest as you bumped into a torso, getting a face full of a dark, torn raincoat.

Placing your palms on the body in front of you to steady yourself, your gaze darted up to see the face of the person who just knocked into you. A boil-ravaged man’s face framed by a dark beard and straggly brown hair with a drastically receded hairline. His eyebrows were singed, his eyes exhausted and world-weary. You’d seen faces just like his while making the treacherous journey to Outpost 3 - cancer from the blast, lesions, hair damage that looked like that of a chemotherapy patient. This man was lucky to be alive at all.

Stunned and apologetic, he seemed to look right through you, as if you weren’t who he expected.

“Are — are you okay?” He queried, looking down your figure until he noticed your unmistakable bump filling the space between you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied meekly. “Are you?” You raised your hand to touch a deep, angry wound on his cheek, but he quickly swatted your hand away.

“Please, don’t touch me, you’ll harm that one,” he pointed down to your bump. Your kind heart hadn’t thought twice about the harm this man’s radiation could do to you and your unborn child, but that still didn’t drive you to step away from him.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise,” he defended as if he had spent his whole life apologising for his actions. “I’m looking for someone.” 

Your gaze searched down his person for any giveaway signs that could help you identify him or who he was looking for. He didn’t look like a Cooperative member or an Outpost resident that found his way outside, but the glint of a blood-stained knife in his left hand suggested he wasn’t wandering the Hawthorne corridors for peaceful purposes.

“They’re all dead, everybody is dead.” You surprised yourself with your bluntness, your vision and concerns for your husband somehow outweighing your concern for the bodies you’d just left in the Hawthorne common room.

Suddenly, you felt a warm, uncomfortable sensation seep between your legs. Grasping at your bump, both you and the man looked down to see a flow of clear water burst from beneath your dress. Your eyes met each other’s again, this time in sheer panic.

“Oh fuck, it’s coming, the baby’s coming!” You wailed, bracing yourself against the cold wall as your mind went hazy. You’d been preparing for this moment for nine months but no amount of parenting books read by the warm glow of Michael’s office fireplace could prepare you for this.

The tall, dark stranger placed a sympathetic arm lightly on your shoulders, resting safely on the cape draping over your form.

“Come on, we need to get you somewhere comfortable,” he leaned down to you, guiding you toward the door behind you but you held your ground with all the strength you had left.

“No, no, not in there, let’s try here,” you desperately pointed across the hall.

Throwing your weight through an adjacent door with a stumble, you nearly tripped over a tin bathtub in the centre of the room. Filled half full with still, crystal clear water, the circular tub reminded you of Michael’s promise to keep a birthing pool in the Outpost for you.

How on earth had you landed upon the one door that led to Michael’s quarters? The coincidence would’ve seemed uncanny if you hadn’t been shocked out of your thoughts by a strong muscular spasm in your bump.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, causing the man propping you up to jolt and look down at your bump, concern washing over his face, barely noticing that he’d dropped the blade in his other hand while trying to grasp at your dress to help you.

“C—contractions, they’re sta—starting already,” you panted, clutching at your belly in a desperate bid to tell the baby inside to slow down. Leaning your weight onto the stranger’s broad shoulders, you heaved yourself over the rim of the tin bath and eased yourself down to lay in the lukewarm water. Your cape floated either side of you while you positioned yourself comfortably, legs spread wide and your heavy waterlogged skirt hitched up to your hips. In looking up to thank him for his assistance, you clocked the fear in the man’s eyes and the shake in his hands as he bent over you beside the pool.

“Look, before I give birth in front of a total stranger, my name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” You panted through strained breaths, determined to know the identity of the mysterious male who would soon become your (decidedly unwilling) birthing partner.

“Brock, my name’s Brock,” he replied shakily, his terrified gaze fixed on you and gasping for breath whenever you jolted with a contraction. His face suggested he was in more pain than you were through your labour. Despite your predicament, you realised in that moment that you’d have to be the voice of reason for you both.

“Nice to meet you, Brock. Now listen, I can’t guarantee your safety in here. It’s up to you if you want to stay with me, but it won’t be long before I start screaming the place down and the witches find us.”

“Wha—is this the labour talking? Did you just say fucking witches?”

As you muttered an incantation under your laboured breath, a heavy armchair hovered across the room and landed behind the door, propping it shut from the inside.

“Yes, Brock, fucking witches.”

——————————————————————

Tag, you’re it! @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @psychobitchtess​ @theinevitableprophecy @leatherduncan @abbyjforman​ @melodylangdon 🖤

[firelxrdsdaughter]

Cruel Symmetry | Preview Chapter

And here’s the second piece I did for the @avatarbaang!

Honestly this one was one that excited me more out of the two? I ended up taking the concept over to rp on here as well. HAHA. Then again, Azula is my main lady, no matter how much I love Suki. x)

This one’s a bit of an au anyway. Post canon.

Cruel Symmetry 

synopsis: After escaping her confinement in the Fire Nation, her bending stripped from her by the Avatar, Azula finds her way to the Earth Kingdom. Fourteen years pass, during which she has joined the Earth King’s forces and made a name for herself under an alias. No one the wiser that the child general who once conquered Ba Sing Se could be the honoured Commander Hui Yin. 

On the fated day in which she is brought to the Capital of Ba Sing Se to receive accolades for outstanding military service, Azula’s new life comes crashing down around her ears when an unexpected guest recognizes her for who she truly is. 

I

She already knows, as the walls split before her, that she ought to have rejected the invitation. What’s another year on the run, when she looks at her life in hindsight? The only problem is, where would she go?

Azula fidgets, her nails biting into the worn leather of the reigns that she holds, her back ramrod straight as she passes through the first ring of imposing walls (as easy to invade as the last time that she was here), trying to force herself to be calm. Trying to will her shoulders to fall and her easy confidence to return. It’s been fourteen years. There’s no way that they could possibly recognise her. Not in Earth Kingdom green. Not leading a retinue of Earth Kingdom soldiers, and not with her mother’s face plastered over her features.

She chews her bottom lip covertly, turning her attention upward at the towering walls of each section of the city. The men behind her, who due to complaints of the heat have been lagging since their trek across the desert, now walk a little more lively than before. Their attentions, too, are caught on the grand splendour that is the first ring of an even grander city to come. They do not notice her discomfort.

That is all just as well.

She hears the scrape of the ostrich-horses’ claws on the stone walkway and listens in the distance to the way the wind off of the mountains whooshes through the hollow spaces of the agricultural ring. An ostrich-horse snorts at her right elbow. She turns in time to see her second in command draw even with her, a grin on his otherwise rather plain face. Azula cocks an eyebrow.

“Well?” His smile stretches perceptibly wider.

“Well, what,” she returns in question, watching as Guangting’s gaze sweeps the vast expanse of the outer ring around them. He returns his attention to her.

“You said you’ve never been to Ba Sing Se before,” he points out with a sense of ease that Azula wishes were her own, “what do you think?”

She thinks that she’s already made a big mistake in coming here. She could have excused herself from the meeting. Feigned illness. But she did not. Azula notes that her hands have tightened once more against the reigns, and she loosens them consciously while she mulls over her response in her mind.

“It’s very grand,” she says after much deliberation, “probably too grand for someone like me.”

Even though the Earth Kingdom is and has always been much different from the Fire Nation, the city of Ba Sing Se reminds her of her childhood in Caldera…But Hui Yin, the commander of the hundred-and-eighty-seventh regiment of the Earth King’s army, has never been somewhere so ostentatious as Ba Sing Se. She has spent her life in the backwoods of the Earth Kingdom, scraping by, using her superior intelligence to make a name for herself in the army after the death of her farmer parents.

And that is how it must remain.

“Well it has to be, doesn’t it,” Guangting says then, “it is the capital city of the Earth Kingdom.”

In name, Azula thinks.

In truth, their reach is not as far stretching as it should be for the Earth King to be effective, but she is slowly remedying this for him. Slowly. Being the commander of a notably small force of soldiers is hardly worth much salt, just enough to get her noticed and summoned here.

“I suppose so,” she answers distractedly.

She feels Guangting grow covertly closer to her, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the men following their lead before he closes the gap between them.

“Don’t be so nervous. You’re being lauded for your part in the King’s efforts to unite the Earth Kingdom. This is a joyous occasion.”

Azula turns and offers Guangting a tight smile.

“I’ve never done well in cities,” she excuses.

Guangting snorts.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll show you the ropes.”

Azula laughs, smirking at him.

“That’s right, you grew up here, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Lower ring though. Not a great place to be but…well, I got out of there, and I made a name for myself. And my parents can afford to be in the middle ring now and — Sometimes it’s just nice to be home, even if you don’t have fond childhood memories of the place.”

Her stomach twists. She presses her mouth into a line and looks back at the second wall looming before them—the wall to the lower ring of the city proper. The part of the city  that Guangting originates from, that houses the city’s poor.

She remembers thinking in her youth that it was a rather clever system, the segregation of the classes by walls. No one had to see the squalor that some people had to live in. It was easier to keep the city under control that way too, the Dai Li’s ultimate role.

Thoughts of stone hands flying out of the shadows and enveloping her before she can call out invade her thoughts momentarily.

Azula trains her eyes on the horn of her saddle, watching the passage of the clouds

overhead on its surface.

Guangting’s rough-knuckled hand comes and plants itself over her own. Azula looks over at him. The silent And it’s all thanks to you sits between them unspoken.

Then, he says,“You should meet my parents before we go.”

Azula feels her face heating, just a little, and swallows against a suddenly thick throat, her heart fluttering.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on them when they haven’t seen you in so long,” she replies, training her attention on the ground beneath her ostrich-horse’s feet.

“Nonsense, I’ve written to them about you. They’ll be eager to meet you.”

Her heart clenches. She clears her throat, and then finally, reluctantly, nods.

“If you say so, then of course I’d be honoured,” she lies. This is something for which she will feign illness.

He’s placated for the moment, however. Besides — it would be a lie to say that she is not flattered by the notion that he wishes for her to meet them, or that they would ever wish to meet her. They wouldn’t, but he’s being polite.

Azula pushes the thought back into the recesses of her mind. She can examine that later.

They slow to a halt at the second set of guards posted outside of the lower ring’s walls. The men there stare at them stonily for a moment before nodding and parting the newest set of walls with their bending. The earth trembles; Azula can feel the vibrations all the way to the top of her skull.

For a brief moment, she hesitates. The sounds and sights of the city waft on the breeze toward them, revealed through the now present giant gate. It’s accompanied by the strong scent of human living, and she makes a conscious effort to breathe through her nose.

With a sense of finality, Azula urges her party forward, and they pass onward into the lower ring of Ba Sing Se.

*

Azula is combing out her freshly washed hair with some effort when the official arrives at her door. Guangting’s footsteps pad across the floor and down the hallway to her private suite after a brief few minutes, identifiable even from where she sits alone in the room. She watches him come through the circular porthole, a missive in his hands, scrolled and sealed with forest green wax.

“What’s that?” Azula continues in attempting to tease the knots from the bottom of her hair, wincing at each tug of the comb from her careless hands, still watching Guangting’s expression in the surface of her mirror.

“Mm, something pretty official looking,” Guangting answers distractedly.

Azula raises a dark eyebrow in response. Her hands have paused in her hair, and she watches as Guangting crosses the space between them and settles himself beside her. He looks up at her with his black eyes, smiling briefly before he returns his attention to the scroll in his hand. He breaks the seal, unravelling the paper.

Azula returns to her work, waiting.

“Ah,” he says after a moment of silence, “the King’s second cousin, Lord Shenlong, has invited you to a gathering of the nobility and high ranking ministers of the city.”

Her eyebrows raise.

“A party?” She doesn’t quite manage to hide the disdain in her voice. Or maybe it’s apprehension. She has enough experience with high society parties that she’d be hard pressed to truly enjoy one now. She knows all  too well what goes on at functions featuring the nobility.

“Yes.” He smiles, rolling the scroll back up and setting it down on the vanity. “A party.”

Azula’s right eyebrow raises a little higher than the left in response, and she purses her lips. Guangting snorts.

“Don’t be like that,” he says with a laugh, “they like you. They’ve heard all of the stories and they want to rub elbows with you. Not bad for someone from some farming village in the Northern Earth Kingdom, no?”

A smirk tucks itself into her cheek.

“I’m not very interested in rubbing elbows with most of high society,” she answers. “I don’t suppose that we can refuse?”

He leans back on his hands next to her, bemused.

“Making connections here will only be good for us,” he points out, too logically for Azula’s taste, “we could get a lot of help and a lot of supplies if you impress enough of the rich people here in Ba Sing Se. I should hardly think I’d need to tell you that, though, oh wise commander.”

She offers him a withering look for the mocking way in which he uses her title.

Turning from her second, Azula goes back to pulling the turtle shell comb through her tangled mass of damp hair one handful at a time. She winces as she catches yet another knot, closing her hand a little tighter around the offending section, working at picking the matt out with one of the comb’s fine teeth.

“Hui Yin…” Guangting takes her hand in his broad palm, wresting the comb from her and shuffling yet closer, going to work himself on her hair. She lets out a sigh, and allows him the intimacy. “We cannot afford to offend these people.”

She rolls her amber eyes up at the ceiling.

“I am aware,” she responds flatly, “but it doesn’t make me want to do this any more than I did in the first place.”

If she had still been a princess she could easily have refused the invitation. Gone to bed early. Done whatever she liked rather than go to the party, really. As a peasant girl from the Earth Kingdom, who has worked her way up the social ladder to Commander, she has no right to do as much. There are precious few times that she has missed being the princess that she once was, in all honesty, but now she longs for the privilege.

That same privilege is also part of the problem, however. She has no doubt that there will be those among the guests who would have lived through her coup of the city. There are those that might even think they recognize her from somewhere or other, surely. At least with only a court proceeding to attend, she would run less of a risk of being recognized. She’d bow before the Earth King, far enough away from most of those in the palace that anyone who could possibly identify her would not be able to clearly see her face...

Azula takes a steadying breath and tries not to think of the what ifs. This is happening, whether she likes it or not. She must simply prepare herself the best that she can.

Her scalp tingles at each pass of first the comb and then Guangting’s fingers through her hair. His kind, dark, eyes catch her gaze in the mirror once more. She feels the curve of her spine relaxing downward.

“Your parents would have been proud of you,” he tells her quietly. Azula feels her stomach sink, but keeps her expression passive where she meets his eyes in the mirror.

No, she thinks, but  forces the briefest of smiles, and makes certain it reaches her eyes for the full effect.

“Perhaps,” she says out loud, forcing lightness into her tone, “It’s certainly not the life they could have possibly pictured me living.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, “but certainly any parent would be happy to see their child succeed in the way you have done.”

She closes her eyes, and tries to will herself not to think of her mother or father.

When she opens her eyes again, Guangting is smiling, and he settles her combed out hair carefully against her back.

“You’ll need a nice dress,” he comments. Azula glances at the scroll where it sits loosely folded against the vanity’s surface. She grimaces.

“Surely one of my nicer uniforms will do?”

Guangting snorts at her.

“You don’t know the nobility like I do,” he says, “you will need something nicer than that. Something that doesn’t shout military across the room. Something…refined. Lucky for you, I’m better at managing your stipend than you are. You have more than enough for something modestly presentable.”

Azula rolls her eyes again but cannot help the smile that splits her face from cheek to cheek briefly.

“What would I do without you, Guangting?” she asks.

Azula sighs, fluttering her eyelashes prettily at her second in command. The man raises his eyebrows and sets her comb aside.

“Go hungry, probably,” he answers dryly, a twinkle in his eye.

*

Despite the relatively dry heat of this region of the Earth Kingdom, Azula finds the room humid.

It is the press of bodies and the mingling voices that make it so. She remembers a hundred parties in her youth spent regulating her own temperature with her bending for just this reason. Now that it’s no longer there, held just beyond her reach, she finds the pressing heat nearly unbearable.  

The people are even more unbearable, if that is possible.

The invitation, when she had deigned to read it, had implied that this soiree was, in fact, a celebration of her accomplishments. But, as is often the case of gatherings featuring the world’s most wealthy and haughty elites, it had been a front for the catty sort of gossiping nosy nellies who would show up just to see someone allegedly as low born as herself stumble over her own iniquities amongst high society.

How lucky for her that she has not entirely forgotten her courtly etiquette. She doesn’t see how she could have, not with years spent at that finishing school under her belt. And surely not with years spent trying to make certain that everything she did in deed and words was perfect.

Azula doesn’t remember it being quite so exhausting, however.

Eventually, she will purposefully allow herself to slip. She can’t let rumours spread.

Guangting is a shadow at her right elbow, hovering close. He looks far more overwhelmed in this setting than she had imagined he would. He always seems so collected. It’s why she’d singled him out for promotion amongst her officers when she had first earned rank. But his floundering shows in this crowd.

Azula keeps her hands clasped firmly either at her back or at her sides, resisting the urge to reach out for him in the sea of people. She feels dangerously normal in the silk robes they’d managed to find at the shop earlier in the day, and she wants to anchor herself back to her new normal. She doesn’t dare act on the impulse in front of a crowd.

To her left, some noble women glance at her from behind their open fans, leaning in to whisper to one another. To her right, some men let out a raucous laugh and continue on in their private conversations. She is not wanted in either crowd.

Azula turns to look at Guangting, and though she is careful not to let too much slip, he reads the exasperation in her features all the same. He offers her a tight smile.

“Should I get you something stronger?” he asks, nodding at her cup. Azula glances down at the cleverly disguised glass of water that she holds poised between her fingers, and then shakes her head.

“No. I wouldn’t want to lose my composure around these people.”

He nods, surveying the room with a sweeping glance.

“Hard to make friends and connections when everyone is avoiding you,” Guangting says then.

Azula scoffs. “I feared that it might be this way,” she answers.

Guangting looks at her in surprise. She realises she’s slipped up. She backtracks.

“I just mean that when you’re born outside of privilege, it’s not as though the privileged in this country are all that interested in raising you up to be their equal.”

Guanting nods again, expression softening to understanding of the observation. Azula takes a sip of her water.

Out of the crowd, a man wades toward them, his dark hair slicked back into the long braid that seems popular still amongst the Earth Kingdom elites. His face closely resembles what she remembers of the build of the Earth King’s features. Azula turns to face him, expecting that she is finally about to be greeted by the party’s host.

When he stops before her, she is proven correct.

“Commander Hui Yin,” he bows just slightly, hands out before him, “it is truly a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Azula returns the gesture, bowing far lower, knowing her place. The ornamentation on the top of her head strains at her scalp, pulling at her hair with the downward momentum of her bow. She frowns at the floor before schooling her features as she straightens once again.

“I am Lord Shenlong, Grand Secretariat of Ba Sing Se. I am so glad that you could make it to this small gathering of mine.”

The title shocks her somewhat. Azula manages to keep her expression schooled, unaffected, but her heart thunders loudly in her ears, fluttering behind her rib cage. She knows what the title truly conceals, and it is as though her worst nightmares  have come to life before her eyes, staring at her in apathetic interest.

Shenlong, Grand Secretariat; Leader of the Dai Li.

She knows that her posture has stiffened. She can feel the strain in her shoulders and her gut. She forces herself to smile cooly, demure.

“Lord Shenlong,” she greets, bowing her head once more, “it is an honour to have been invited to mingle with so many members of Ba Sing Se’s upper echelons. I am flattered by the thought you have spared for me.”

“Yes, well…You are an anomaly,” he says with an oily smile of his own, “and when I heard that you would finally be visiting our fine capital, I knew that I could not let the opportunity to meet you face to face go to waste.”

Azula forces a light, lilting, laugh.

“My Lord has spared far too much thought for one so lowly as myself,” she tells him. “Growing up, I could not have imagined myself in a place like this.”

“I would guess not,” Shenlong answers. When he smiles it is knife thin and insincere.

Azula feels herself relax. This is a game that she knows.

His intrigues are, like those of all of the nobles in this room, of the lowest brow imaginable. At least in this context. She can feel the disdain dripping from him at the idea that someone as lowly as Hui Yin has made it as far as Azula has managed to push herself. From backwoods foot soldier to ranking officer ready to receive accolades and appointments from the court. The intrigue is petty, and ill thought out, and predictable. Perhaps the worst offence of all, especially in the hands of the leader of the Dai Li, whose power Azula knows first hand.

She takes another sip from her cup, unruffled, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For the first time, she notes the presence of a couple of other noblemen, hovering by Shenlong’s elbow, waiting to see what happens, or to participate if they feel that they might be able to do so.

“And how do you like the upper ring,” he asks then, “if I heard correctly down the grapevine, and I always do, you are to receive more than just accolades for your accomplishments. My cousin is set to award you a title as well. Soon you’ll be the honourable Hui Yin. Perhaps a military minister even.”

When she is certain that she will be able to speak without the wavering of ambition and excitement in her voice, Azula opens her mouth to answer, “It is very fine; I’m unused to such luxuries, even with my rank. There’s little that could be described as glamorous about manning a desert outpost or wading through mud in the Southern swamps.”

“So I would imagine…” he says, eyebrows arched.

There is a calculated look in his eye that has Azula’s spine crawling. It’s a look that she knows from childhood. Her father’s look, the look of Long Feng, their last Grand Secretariat. Probably a look that Azula has worn a hundred times in her life or more. He is trying to discern something about her, or figure out what might be her weakness. How to get under her skin. How to control her; find her vulnerable underbelly so that he can turn her iniquities to his own advantage.

Or, he already knows something and the Dai Li are lying in wait for her back in the borrowed house that she is staying in.

She wonders how good Guangting would be in a real fight. They’ve hardly seen the sort of battle that Azula was used to in the war. They’ve mostly been herding peasants and quelling their unorganized uprisings. She looks down briefly at the toes of her silk slippers, peeking out from under the robes that she purchased for the party.

Guangting’s an earth bender. He will be better than nothing.

“I must say that I am surprised commander,” Shenlong says then.

Azula looks up at him once more, eyebrows raised in a mild expression.

“I had heard rumours of your beauty,” Shenlong continues, “but I had thought them greatly exaggerated. It’s strange enough that a woman should be serving in the army at all, let alone one with a face such as yours.”

Recognition of the slight flickers briefly through Azula’s mind, and then a sharp smile spreads her red painted lips thin against her teeth. She holds herself perfectly still, feeling the anger tremble in her pulse despite her best efforts. Ah ha. He had found an edge to pick at after all.

“I’m afraid that I have no idea what you mean, my Lord. What do my looks have to do with it?” She plays dumb, though she is coiled tight as a snake, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

“Well, surely it is just the novelty of a woman strategizing like a man that has gained you such recognition,” he posits casually. Around him, the men that have come to hear her speak look at one another, snickering, hiding smug smiles behind their sleeves as though she has not already seen them.

In the Fire Nation, Azula reflects, no one would have had the gall to say such a thing to her, whether she had been the princess or not. A fighting body was a fighting body, and military talent was prized amongst men and women. What her face looks like would have had nothing to do with it.

She feels her smile strain at the edges, and at her elbow, Guangting shifts. She thinks perhaps he might say something on her behalf, so she quickly responds before he has the chance to defend her.

“You are probably right,” she says, forcing her voice to steady sweetness. With his lean features and pointed beard (the slope of his nose), Shenlong reminds her once again of her father. Or perhaps it is merely his words which are playing a trick on her mind.

Even when he had been lifting her up, her father had had the uncanny ability to make her feel lesser than.

“But even this lowly woman’s tactics have led my men to many victories for the Earth Kingdom, in the name of your second cousin, our benevolent King.” She bows again, hands folded against her thighs this time. The soft ties of her deep green, waist high, ruqun strain at her middle as she breathes deeply into her gut, settling her anger.

“That is all of the assurance that I need to know I am following the correct path in my life, my Lord.”

He says nothing, but Azula can feel the force of Shenlong’s gaze against the crown of her head.

“Of course,” he says, “you are so humble. Our great hero.” There is a sneer in his voice, but he remains as poised as Azula. Around him, the men that have gathered to listen murmur their agreement, hiding their own disdain behind their politicians’ facades once more.

“Come, Commander. Walk with me. Let’s leave this hubbub so that we might speak more privately. I’ve been just dying to pick your brain.”

Azula straightens, searching his expression for any hint of what might be to come. There is no hint there.

She nods finally, gesturing to the Grand Secretariat to lead the way. Shenlong accepts the invitation, wading through the crowd. It parts before them once everyone has noticed who is trying to get through. She is glad for the warmth of Guangting at her back.

They step out of the large gathering hall and onto the walkway which overlooks the estate’s grand gardens. Azula has grown appreciative of such things in her adulthood. She breathes the sweet scent of late summer blossoms in through her nose and smiles briefly before she returns to the task at hand.

Namely, what Shenlong is planning, and how she will avoid it, if she can.

He comes to a halt, hands folded at his back whilst he observes the full spread of his gardens.

“Remind me, Commander, where was it that you’re from again?”

“Nowhere that my Lord would likely have heard of,” she answers simply, coming to stand even with him at the edge of the walkway. A breeze brushes against her cheek, cool. It comes off of the mountains. They might be in for a storm.

“Humour me,” he requests.

Azula smiles again, bemused. He suspects something, she thinks, but she isn’t certain what tipped him off. It could have been any number of things, she supposes. The colour of her eyes comes to mind, though there are plenty of men and women with something akin to them in the Earth Kingdom. A hundred years of colonization will do that.

“Northern Chu Li,” she answers finally. A place that had long been occupied by the Fire Nation. The best choice for someone who looks like her to say they’re from, if they’re lying.

“And your parents?”

“Passed on, my Lord. They were farmers.”

“Simple farmers?” He sounds slightly surprised by the news. She had thought that her fabricated story would be more well known by now. Then again, perhaps he is lying, just like her. “And yet you have such a military mind.”

Azula lets her smile grow mild, tolerant.

“Just because we were farmers does not mean that we are not capable of thought, my Lord.”

Behind her she can hear Guangting shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“I suppose that is true,” he answers in a drawl. She sees Shenlong look sidelong at her out of the corner of her eye. “Did you know that the man who was cultural minister of Ba Sing Se before myself came from a similarly remote province. Similarly small. He also came from nothing, and yet he managed to become Grand Secretariat of Ba Sing Se…”

Shenlong turns his attention back to the garden, and Azula waits for him to make his point, bemused. Of course she had known at the time. His history had been written all over him. She had seen his struggle in the lines of his face, and the way in which he had stubbornly clung to power despite knowing already that he had lost.

“No my Lord,” she answers simply, “I didn’t.”

“Yes…He was a powerful man, too, but in the end it was nobility who overthrew him, and it is nobility now who stands in his place. Better at his job than he ever was.”

She might contest that, but Azula does not know Shenlong all that well, and anything is possible. Long Feng had not been the best of the best but he had been close. Anyone could be overthrown given the correct circumstances.

“I don’t think I am following your point, Lord Shenlong,” she says after a moment, sounding a little bored. Azula looks over at him, straining her chin upward to take in his full height. He looks at her too, green eyes crinkling at the edges in a smile.

“My point is that you enjoy quite a bit of power now, and will likely enjoy more, but given your humble beginnings I have no doubt that eventually you will fumble in that power. It was not meant for one such as you. But I can help you hang onto it as long as possible, and perhaps set you up for life after that power is gone.”

Azula raises her eyebrows, amused.

“That is a very generous offer, my Lord. What exactly would you want me to do for you, should I accept the invitation?”

“Errands…Taking care of things here and there for me when I cannot take care of them myself…” He gestures lazily with a hand, pursing his lips.

Azula swallows a laugh and a smile.

“..May I consider the offer at length and come back to you with my decision,” she inquires.

Shenlong looks at her for some time, expression inscrutable, and then finally nods, seeming satisfied with the answer.

“Of course. Is a week long enough? You should be on your way back to your station by then, yes?”

“That’s correct,” she replies, “I will have my answer for you by then.”

This time he does smile, and he reaches out a hand toward her, seeming confident already that she will agree to his terms. Azula accepts his hand, and they shake firmly for a moment. Not exactly an Earth Kingdom tradition, but it’s as good as anything to seal a verbal contract.

Shenlong slips his hands into his sleeves, and bows his head briefly toward her.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Commander. I look forward to hearing your answer,” he says, turning to walk back in to the party.

Azula watches him go, expression smooth as glass, and only when he has disappeared into the crowd does she look at Guangting, raising her eyebrows. She smirks. He returns the expression, though he seems considerably more troubled by what has just happened than she is.

*

The evening ends in a fashion that is not entirely uncommon these days. Her back pressed against a wall, and Guangting’s mouth on hers as they paw at one another’s clothing. When they break for air, panting, Guangting picks Azula up off of the floor to lumber with her over to the bed. He smiles broadly before tossing her down to the soft mattress.

It’s too soft. She misses the solid ground under a thin cot.

“I suppose after tomorrow I am going to have to start calling you ‘my lady’,” he says playfully, climbing in after her. The mattress bounces with every movement he makes, crawling up over her body.

Azula checks covertly for anyone watching in the shadows, amber eyes flashing about the room to see if the Dai Li stand waiting for them. Waiting to begin her undoing, waiting to take her to Lake Laogai and brainwash her on behalf of Shenlong. They are not there.

Guangting's dark hair has fallen from its top knot, her own handy work. It’s a curtain about them. Azula can feel one of the pins in her own hair digging into her neck uncomfortably. She ignores it and returns her full attention to what she’s doing in the moment once again.

“Don’t call me that,” she says flatly, neck tilting back to expose more flesh to his searching lips while he trails wet kisses along her skin to her collar.

“Mm…what? You don’t like the idea of being a lady,” he teases. Azula digs her nails into his sides and a hiss of breath sucks its way through Guangting’s teeth. It’s her turn to smile, knife thin and satisfied.

“No,” she answers, breathless. Her expression has turned wicked.

If anyone asks, she had not been looking for whatever it is that exists between herself and Guangting. Certainly, she’d almost been actively avoiding it her entire adult life. But whatever sits between herself and her second-in-command seems to come as naturally as breathing to them. And it does feel good to give in, every now and then.

His tongue traces the raised skin of an old scar which runs like a crevasse over her abdomen. She shivers, gasping out involuntarily. Azula bites her lip and lets her head tip back against the silk pillows of the borrowed bed in their borrowed apartments. Her borrowed apartments.

He brings his head back up, hovering close in the ever dimming light of the few candles that still burn in the room. She can feel his breath against her face.

“Well, Lord Shenlong was right about one thing.”

She raises her eyebrows, unimpressed. He is very quickly killing the mood, and she’s so very rarely in the mood in the first place.

“And what might that be?” she asks, snappish.

“You do have a face that’s meant for portraits.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Is that so?”

“It is.” He grins at her, and Azula cannot help but find it…slightly endearing. Slightly.

Guangting kisses her deeply, and Azula’s mind falls dizzyingly silent. She allows herself to be wrapped up in him.

[readerstacks1]

What Are Some Common Applications of Laravel?

Laravel's model-view-controller (MVC) architecture and native authentication are helpful in-built features. These conveniences are what have contributed to the framework's widespread adoption.Laravel is a modern web framework. It's become an in-demand ability, with over 70,000 GitHub stars.

When Should You Use Laravel?

Laravel is an approachable web framework for building scalable PHP-based websites and online applications.

Selecting the underlying technology to be used in creating a web app or website is a crucial first step. One of the most challenging aspects of creating a website is this.

No-code website builders are great for whipping up basic sites like online stores and portfolios quickly and easily. A no-code solution may be insufficient to create something more complex. Instead, pick a framework and begin developing it. Regarding open-source frameworks for creating modern online apps at scale, Laravel is a solid option. When working with tables in Laravel, the Join in laravel method, which is found as part of a query builder, is the one that is called when carrying out the table joining table action.

How does Ajax pagination work?

Ajax pagination in laravel is a tool for loading dynamic data and creating pagination links without refreshing the page or database. You may implement page less pagination into a data list using Ajax and PHP. Pagination's primary purpose is to prevent a web page from breaking under the weight of a large quantity of data by loading a small amount of material at a time. Ajax jQeury allows loading data without refreshing the page, making the resulting Laravel Pagination more versatile and aesthetically pleasing.

In Laravelwhat is form validation?

Form validation in laravel refers to the process by which Laravel verifies the correctness of the data that was submitted by the end user to the application. This process aims to guarantee that the end user sends the correct data in the format required for the application. Additionally, it ensures that the programme is guarded from input that could be harmful.

Image with Rounded Corners in Flutter

Create Rounded Corners Image in Flutter or avatars are frequently utilised in various mobile applications, including those using the Flutter framework. Flutter has several options for making rounded images, such as:

If you use the ClipRRect widget:

Clipping a picture and rounding its edges is possible with the ClipRRect widget.

Using BoxDecoration with the Container widget:

To make a circular avatar, start by placing your image within a container (using the Container widget), and then use BoxDecoration to change the shape attribute to BoxShape.circle.

Using the CustomPainter:

This more complex approach lets you design your own avatar's physical appearance.

When using the CircleAvatar widget:

This widget was developed for the express purpose of making spherical avatars. As a parent, it clips an image or icon into a circular shape.

Making use of ClipOval:

This method is similar to CircleAvatar in that it cuts out a circular section of an image.

Conclusion

Laravel is a popular PHP framework because it is both powerful and straightforward. It is structured using a model-view-controller architecture. Laravel is useful for developing a website because it recycles code from other frameworks. The resulting web app design is more organised and functional.

[flutter4u]

Circular Profile Photo Avatar for Flutter

Circular Profile Photo Avatar for Flutter

Circular Profile Photo Avatar for Flutter CircularProfileAvatar is a Flutter package which allows developers to implement circular profile avatar with border, overlay, initialsText and many other awesome features, which simplifies developers job. It is an alternative to Flutter’s CircleAvatar Widget. Circular Profile Photo…

[nehanguyen]

Flutter Plugin Circular Profile Avatar

Flutter Plugin Circular Profile Avatar . A Flutter package which allows developers to implement circular profile avatar

source https://morioh.com/p/aa6916180b59