#bumi would laugh his ass off at his own jokes

[hitemwiththeoop]

i kinda just want someone to write a fanfic about the gaang reacting to the live action, if you want to make it canonesque like, doing it like it was another play like the one at ember island,,,imagine

aang getting angry because he didn't get to kiss katara at the cave and instead they make her more interested in jet and he begins saying things like I BET IF YOU HAD BEEN WITH HIM IN THE CAVE YOU WOULD'VE KISSED HIM. katara angry at her characterization like WHY DON'T I SPEAK UP??? I WOULD'VE THROWN HANDS and to sokka WHY DID THEY MAKE YOU ACT LIKE THE MORE MATURE ONE BETWEEN US, I HAD TO WASH YOUR SOCKS BACK AT THE VILLAGE. everyone absolutely confused at the fact yue was a spirit fox. Zuko criticizing himself ozai and azula like wth and why do i have drawings of the avatars and a journal about them, they make me look so obsessed, and sokka like, actually, i think that was spot on. suki and sokka cringing at the scene where she stared at him shirtless and him getting angry because they didn't make him dress up like a girl

[amixiifish]

Heat- Chapter 5: The Truth

Jet was taking a walk outside, as the suffocating scent of heat was starting to become overwhelming. He really didn’t know how Toph dealt with it.

When he came back inside he was greeted with a most pleasant sight. Zuko was sitting up on his mound of blankets, his hair messed up and pretty eyes clouded with sleep. Attractive pink lips were barely parted to allow slow breaths to come and go. Before he could admire it more, Toph crashed into him with panic.

“Spirits, Toph, watch where you're going.” Jet grumbled after falling flat on his ass.

“I’m blind, shithead. Besides, Zuko’s burning up and I don’t know what to do,” she babbled, unlike her usual demeanor of control.

Jet blinked and was on his feet in an instant. “Katara said he needed something cool. Find a spring or water well or something, grab some water, and cool him down.”

Toph looked at him, unimpressed. “You're asking a blind person to look for something. You’re stupider than I thought. And that’s saying something.”

Jet sighed in frustration and walked out of the cave, a permanent scowl and slouched shoulders scaring off any and all people that were passing by.

By the time Jet was back, he was startled to see a gently cooing Toph wrapped around Zuko. The omega had buried his face in the shorter girl’s neck and was gently being held in a loving embrace.

For a moment Jet was reminded of just how sick this war really was. They were kids. They were supposed to be playing in the sun and laughing. Hakoda, Bumi, Yue’s father, and even Ozai should be in some meeting, discussing trade; not cowering in fear of a psychotic man that was broken by his ancestors' will. Aang was only 12 and had the closest thing to a family murdered in a huge massacre and woke a hundred years later to a world he couldn’t recognize as his own. Toph, also 12, was blind and abandoned by parents who weren’t willing to overlook the fact that she isn’t a helpless cripple. Sokka, at fifteen years old, lost Yue and now couldn't even find Suki after losing his father to war. Katara, at age 14, was mastering her element and was lied to and manipulated countless times- and on top of all that, she had lost her mother to the hands of a monster at a young age. Zuko, at 16, was forced into a role he didn’t want and was ignored and abused for his biology, something he couldn’t fucking control. He, himself at 16, also lost his family and even his sanity, only to be locked in the walls of a city that was manipulated by a man almost as bad as Sozin himself. He frowned harder only to have his trail of thought hindered by a small call from Toph.

“Did you bring water? He isn’t looking too good,” she said in an uncharacteristic act of kindness.

Jet finds himself nodding and giving her the cool water in a jug. She gently grabs an extra cloth and drenches it in the water to cover his forehead with it. She motions for him to come to lay with them on the other side.

Jet immediately shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s fine. Really. He needs some contact and I’m pretty small,” she joked, her smile not reaching weary eyes.

Jet finds his limbs moving of their own accord and gently wrapping around Zuko. A slight hum was the only sign that acknowledged the presence of the heat-driven omega.

“Jet,” Toph began.

“Yeah?”

“Am I…. a freak?”

“What!? No of course not, why would you-“

“My father said so. He said that I was stupid and small. I didn’t deserve to be an earth bender and I wasn’t worthy of the title of alpha.”

A bitter laugh echoes through the cave. “Imagine how pathetic I am. I needed a war to save me from my parents.”

Jet felt a stab of guilt, pain, and hatred tear through his heart. Gently, he reached over to pull Toph’s hand into his own.

“You are a smart, caring, and incredibly strong person. You fought through being blind and turned out to be the strongest earth bender of all time. You deserve the title of alpha, and so much more. Don’t let that douchebag of a dad get you down.” he said, his low voice leaving no room for argument.

“Thanks. I really needed that.” Toph said, a soft smile making its way on her face.

“I say we throw him to the Unagi and then release Katara in mother mode on him,” came a retort from Toph's chest.

This startles a laugh from the two alphas. Toph leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Zuko’s head. “Thanks, Sparky. Even when boiling you make the most compelling arguments.”

Jet looks over the grumbling omega and chuckling alpha and thinks, “We may not be perfect but we’re family. And nothing is going to change that.”

Sleep slowly overtakes the three as the soft scent of omega in heat lulls them to bed.

[atypicalkataangist]

Aftermath

Type: Oneshot [Family] Summary: Aang enjoys some time with his newborn son. Word count: 1792 Author’s note: This is actually one of my favourite stories so far! I hope you enjoy it as well! :)

It was amazing. Beautiful. The best thing in the world.

There had been so much pain. So much angst, so much screaming. So many tears. Now there were tears too, of course, but now they were the good kind of tears. Tears of love and hope.

He was sitting on the edge of his sleeping wife's bed, watching the both of them sleep peacefully. Her and the small bundle of joy that she was holding in her arms. Her newborn son. Their newborn son. He didn't leave her side since she gave birth to their son not two days ago. He was just sitting there by her side, kissed her, held her hand and told her over and over again how much he loved her and Bumi, their infant son. The king of omashu, after whom he was named, a close friend and ally of them had passed away only a few days before Katara went into labour. And with quite some hair sticking out haphazardly as he left his mother's womb, he kinda reminded them of the mad genius, despite the obvious fact that he was a newborn baby, and therefore really handsome and cute.

Aang hadn't been able to turn off his loving smile as he watched his small family sleep calmly. He had no words to descripe the pure feeling of bliss and happiness that he had felt since he had held his own son in his arms for the first time.

Katara was fast asleep; Bumi however seemed to be waking up, which his caring father couldn't help but notice. Bumi's whimpering slowly became louder, so he got up and took him out of his sleeping mother's arms with extreme caution. Katara however somehow noticed, slowly opening her sleepy eyes. She would be a great mother. Her Intuition was amazingly strong, already.

He smiled at her and gently kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep, Sweetie. I got him.", He whispered as not to awake her even more.

She nodded and kissed him weakly before going back to sleep, still completely exhausted by the process of childbirth. "Thanks, Sweetie." It had been way, way harder than she had imagined, but it had already been worth every contraction, every impusle of pain that had been shooting through her body systematically for more than 12 hours straight. She just needed some rest, that was all. And if Aang could help her with that, he was happy to oblige.

Little Bumi grizzled while his proud father held him in his arms, rocking him back and forth oh so slowly to calm him down and get him in a sleepy mood again. They slowly wandered through the southern air temple's infirmary rooms. It was the middle of the night, no, almost sunrise, so he got an idea and went for the balcony, sitting down against the outer stone wall of the infirmary. The view was amazing; they could overview the whole southern air temple archipelago from up here. It reminded Aang of the great childhood he had spent here; He still couldn't believe that the tiny creature he was holding in his own arms was indeed his son. "Maybe", Aang whispered to the sleepy little boy in his arms, "maybe this will all be yours, one day. Maybe you will be the next airbender. Maybe... You will continue my culture. But no matter what...", he smiled while a tear ran down his cheek, holding the baby in his arms closer, yet still tremendously careful as not to hurt the tiny life. "...no matter what, my son. I will always love you. You and your mother, you are the centre of my life, and nothing shall ever come between us, alright Buddy?" The only response he got was a bunch of childish sounds in baby language. Aang smiled. They understood each other no matter what.

"Hey guys, mind if I join you?"

Aang was kinda ripped out of their conversation as he quickly turned his head to the hollow doorway to the balcony, seeing no one other than his Brother-in-law standing there.

"Sokka!", Aang stood up as quickly as he could without risking to bring Bumi in an umcomfortable position, smiling warmly at his best friend. "You finally made it!", Aang whispered as not to wake him up. "I think there is someone who wants to meet you... Sokka, say hello to your nephew Bumi. Bumi, say hello to your uncle Sokka..."

For a moment, Sokka was speechless, which was an incredibly rare occasion. As Aang slowly turned his son to give the tiny bundle into his Brother-in-law's arms, Sokka simply gulped and whispered. "Aang... That's just... Wow. Congratulations, seriously." Aang simply nodded, grateful, before Sokka took a closer look at his nephew, and cautiously tickled his chest with his finger, to which Bumi responded with a soft burp and a giggly sound. "Well hello there, big guy, I'm your uncle Sokka. One day I'll teach you how to use a boomerang, aaand tell the funniest jokes aaaand how to get all the Ladies..." He was interrupted by Aang sarcastically clearing his throat, offering him a seat next to him. Not too quickly of course, they sat down next to the Avatar.

"Okay, okay. I guess your parents can teach you pretty cool stuff, too. They're my sister and my best friend, after all." He grinned at Aang, who returned the smile.

"No, seriously, Aang. I'm so happy for you guys... You really deserve this and I have no doubt that you will be outstanding parents."

"Thanks, Sokka. I appreciate that." Sokka offered him Bumi again and Aang instantly took his son back into the warm, cuddly protectiveness of his arms, even though it was of course not the same as his mother's bosom.

"Aang, there's this other thing. I want to make a long overdue apology to you."

Aang was surprised. "You're Apologizing? What for?"

"For... Everything. I mean, I've been kind of an ass to you and my sister every time you showed some affection for each other. And when you got married, I... I kinda felt like I was left out. You two... You three are a family now, you know? There's no more room for creepy uncle Sokka anymore.", He added with a sad Expression. "And I completely understand. And when you told me that you got her pregnant... My sister... My little sister... I kinda snapped. I'm so sorry Aang. You didn't deserve any of this. I know this comes months too late, but I guess I just can't turn back time. I see now how happy you are with each other, and If you want me to be around for big guy here...", He shortly drifted off into baby speak again, "I'll be there."

"Oh Sokka...", Aang simply whispered with a gentle tone in his voice, "of course we want you around! You're his uncle! And besides that, you're my best friend- and Family. I didn't know you felt so guilty. Don't worry, seriously, everything's fine between the both of us." He padded his shoulder with his free hand. "I don't know how I would react if my best friend would tell me that he got my little sister pregnant...", He chuckled lightly. "But let's not get into detail here...you know?"

Sokka smiled. "Yeah. Good idea. Thanks, Aang."

"No Problem, buddy." They sat there silently for the next few minutes, watching the sun rise and listening to little Bumi's grunting baby noises. All of the sudden, Sokka could hear Aang sob silently.

"Everything alright, Aang?"

The Avatar nodded. "Yeah. This is just so much to process... I mean, it feels like only months ago that you two freed me from the ice, and now I'm holding my own son in my arms. It's just incredible."

"I guess you're right. But I just wanna let you know, if you and my sister will ever need some time for yourselves, Suki and I would be honored if you dropped him off at our place. He will be some good practice for what'll be coming to us too, eventually."

"I really appreciate the offer, Sokka. We'll keep it in mind, I promise."

Aang couldn't let his eyes off of the little bundle of joy, the pure, innocent product of his love for Katara, that he was holding in his own arms. He loved the little guy from the bottom of his heart. Nonetheless, the baby boy needed his mother as well, and began to whine again, a bit louder than before.

"I bet he's hungry...", Aang mumbled.

"I guess that's rather a job for Katara...?", Sokka goofed.

"Yep. Come on, I guess you wanna talk to your sister, as well." They got up pretty quickly and entered the infirmary again, to find Katara up again, sitting in her bed and stretching her arms in the direction of her husband and her infant son, smiling at them lovingly, but tiredly as well.

"Hey Sweetie. I guess he's hungry again.", Aang tried to fill her in, but she was one step ahead of him with her motherly intuition. He climbed into bed next to her, kissed her forehead and carefully reunited their son with his mother. She grinned as she also discovered her brother standing in the doorframe to the balcony. She quickly kissed her husband to greet him before grinning at her brother. "Who're you talking about, Sweetie? Our sweet, little guy here, or our big hog standing right there?"

They all had a quick laugh together before Sokka went a few steps towards the Avatar-family bed and smiled happily at his sister and her new family. "Hey, Sis. You alright?" In his opinion, she looked still very exhausted, had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was all over the place. But at the same time, when her eyes wandered to the little life she was holding in her arms, she looked so incredibly happy. Happier than he had ever seen her before.

She nodded while smiling at her brother. "Even better. You did get to meet your nephew, right?"

"Yep, Aang introduced us to each other. We... OOGIE!" Sokka quickly interrupted himself and turned around, jamming his eyes close to avoid seeing his sister exposing her breast to feed her hungry newborn.

"Oh Sokka, grow up.", she rolled her eyes, still couldn't help but laugh.

Maybe some things would never change.

And maybe it was just right that way.

[kdinthecity]

Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen: In Other News

This is for @zutaraweek​ Day Five: Modern Times

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Zuko and I fall into a comfortable pattern of casual conversation in the car, a productive partnership at work, and the occasional night “out” at Mushi’s. He puts on an unconvincing act like his uncle annoys him, but I can tell they are close. Whatever Zuko doesn’t say out loud, I can easily read on his face. Details behind those expressions are lacking, of course.

Certain topics are off limits—like what happened with his father or that night in Iroh’s apartment. I let down my guard in sharing about my mom, but I’m putting it back up until it’s clear what direction we’re headed with all this. It's easy to talk to Zuko, but trusting him is a different matter entirely.

The first warning comes from Yue. She reassigns Hahn to the education position, and I assume it's because she is tired of his constant flirting. But then she starts spending more time in her office, making hushed phone calls behind closed doors. I imagine some intriguing behind-the-scenes action—like they’ve discovered the elusive tiger-seal (a creature from my stories) and finally receive the national attention they deserve for their hard work.

I often use fiction to escape my reality. Why do I feel this sudden urge to write?

I panic when Yue calls me into her office. She’s caught me daydreaming again. Or she’s seen me staring at Zuko’s ass. She’ll reprimand me for being so distracted all the time and probably reassign me, too. I prepare a report about some unusual findings Zuko and I discovered in one of the plankton samples as proof we work well together. I’m ready with my notes and everything.

“Katara, how are things going with Zuko?” she asks.

“F-f-fine, I guess. Er—great.” I didn’t expect that question, exactly.

She eyes the papers in my hands, the ones I'm flipping through nervously. “You… guess?“

“We’re good partners.” Ugh, I hate that I’m blushing right now. “In the lab, I mean. We get a lot done.”

Yue nods slowly in the way that grownups usually do when they have something they don’t want to say. “That’s good. So… you don’t feel… threatened… in any way?”

Blindsided again. What the hell does she mean by that?

I try to pick up my jaw and answer quickly. I don’t want my silence to raise any suspicions. “Threatened by Zuko? No, not at all.”

“Have you received threats from anyone else?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“I don’t mean to scare you, Katara, but some threats have been made around here recently. If you ever feel unsafe or uncomfortable, will you please let me know as soon as possible?”

“Of course.”

“And… be careful. Zuko’s situation is… complicated.”

When I piece this conversation together with what I overheard between Zuko and Yue that one day, my best guess is that Mr. Kasai gives a lot of money to the Marine Center. And when things don’t go his way, he may use his power to pressure them. If Zuko’s face is any indicator, then I have no doubt his father would make threats… and follow through with them.

But what does this have to do with me?

My second clue arrives through a series of messages from Azula. She says I should stop seeing her brother, that their father disapproves, that if Zuko stays with me, then he will pay…

First of all, we are not together!

Wait. Am I the reason he…

I was with him that night.

Oh shit.

I have to know for sure.

Except Zuko is acting… weird. He’s more relaxed and happier than I’ve ever seen him. There may even be a hint at a sense of humor trying to break through his surly outer shell. Iroh has noticed the change, too, and calls it a “metamorphosis.” Zuko says he resents being compared to a butterfly and tells his uncle to “bug off.”

Did I say sense of humor? More like lame attempts at making jokes.

I laugh anyway. He lights up when I do. Like a... firefly?

Damn, he’s gorgeous.

There is no way in hell I’m bringing up that stuff about his father now.

Iroh invites Gran Gran and me to a July Fourth barbecue on the beach. Normally Dad and Sokka would come home for the holiday, but those storms swept northward and disrupted their travel plans. As consolation, I’ve been promised a HUGE party to celebrate my 16th birthday in August. To be honest, I’d be OK with a small family gathering. And Zuko. Maybe Mushi, too.

Speaking of, that man loves parties.

While Ozai practically owns half of the bayside resort property on Ember Island, his brother opted for a vacation home and a strip of private beach along the Pacific coast instead. This area is much better for surfing, but no one brought any gear today. Gran Gran enjoys chatting with Iroh’s friends, Jeong Jeong, Bumi, and Piandao. There are a few people I recognize from the restaurant—an employee or two, and a repeat customer I often see there. A young girl, maybe four or five years old, flits about the adults vying for attention. Coincidentally, she's wearing a pair of costume butterfly wings.

I survey the perfect waves and lament not having a surfboard.

“You just want an excuse to get me in a wet suit,” Zuko says.

“Was that… another joke?”

“You know me, Katara. I don’t joke.”

His face is passive, but golden eyes flash with bridled laughter. There is only one thing I can do to unleash it.

Tickle him.

“Nephew, why don’t you show Katara the tide pools?”

At first I think Iroh makes the suggestion because he disapproves of our touchy-feely ticklefest which involves tackling each other and rolling around in the sand. But after the short hike to the tide pools, I wonder if he was actually encouraging us. We are now enclosed in a small private cove.

Zuko laughs. “Uncle knows that low tide was hours ago.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, you can’t really see anything right now. If he intended for me to show you the marine life and all, then…”

We both know it was a setup, but I’m the first to make a move. I lace my fingers with his and wait to release the breath I’m holding. He does that shuddery sigh thing, like he’s relieved. And then he squeezes my hand.

“Could you tell me about it at least?” I lean into his shoulder and decide to breathe again.

“Uhh—“ He swallows. “Organisms that survive here must be able to withstand harsh conditions. The environment is constantly changing with the tides, but a unique biodiverse ecosystem has adapted to thrive.”

He gets a poke in the ribs for that. “Thank you, Wikipedia.”

He grabs my other hand to ward off the attack—or maybe to pull me closer. “I had the education position at the Marine Center, remember?”

I’m facing him now, and a heat rises between us. I’m feeling bold enough to close the gap and trap it. I’m already enslaved by the intensity of his gaze.

“Yes sir, Professor Kasai.”

He freezes.

He only steps a few feet away, but he’s as distant as the offshore waves. He’s watching them, too, but without really seeing them. There is something with him and the water—while I feel connected to it, he’s haunted by it.

“My mom loved the ocean,” he says suddenly.

The space he left behind is now cold—empty. It takes me a while to recover, to respond. “That’s something we have in common."

At this, Zuko smiles. “She would like you.”

Some warmth returns, but I'm still uncertain. “Oh. I meant… my mom loved the ocean, too.”

“Ocean secret, vast and blue

Ebbs and flows, beneath the moon,

Rise and fall, crashing blue spirit

Whispers on waves, can you hear it?”

“That’s… beautiful,” I say.

“She wrote poetry… about a lot of things, but her favorite was the sea.”

My heart is racing again, but for a different reason this time. “That’s something else we have in common.”

“What’s that?”

“My mom was a writer, too. She was an investigative reporter for The Modern Times. She wrote mostly stuff about the environment, so our work at the Marine Center reminds me a lot of her.”

“That’s so cool, Katara. She would be very proud of you.”

“She got her first big break on the oil spill in Alaska. That was before she met Dad. She dug so deep into the corporate scandal that even years later, they had to move because of safety. Of course, that didn't keep her from doing the same thing here."

"What happened to her?"

"We don't really know. She was on assignment in Death Valley. Her editor suspected foul play... but there was never any proof."

Zuko goes pale. Paler than pale. Paler than I thought possible. "D-d-death Valley?"

If Zuko’s ghosts are whispers in the waves, then mine are mirages in the desert. "Yeah. I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"It's getting late. We should start heading back."

It's not late, but I've obviously said too much… again. I never talk about this with anyone, and I promised myself I wouldn’t be so vulnerable with Zuko. But he’d opened up about his mom... a little. Maybe something bad happened to her, too.

Zuko avoids me for the rest of the day. He uses the excuse that he needs to help his uncle with the food... and then the cleaning… and setting up for fireworks...

At dusk, they disappear. I watch Gran Gran play a complicated board game called Pai Sho with Piandao. When we settle on the beach for the show, Iroh’s youngest visitor unexpectedly plops down in my lap. I catch a whiff of something familiar, something comforting...

Moon peaches.

"Hi, I'm Kiyi," she announces, leaning against my chest and looking up at me with curious golden eyes.

“Hi, I’m Katara,” I answer slowly. “Where is your—“

“I love the fire in the sky!” she squeals as the first bottle rocket takes flight. “Uncle does the best fireworks ever!”

I’m not sure which adult the girl came with since I haven’t been introduced to everyone at the party. I can guess by her looks that she’s related to the Kasai family somehow, but it’s the way she says Uncle that sounds…

Just like Zuko.

Per the norm, the next time I’m in Zuko’s car, we act like nothing ever happened—the almost-kiss, the cold shoulder followed by moments of deep connection complete with a poetry performance.

Nevermind all that. I have more pressing questions. "Who is Kiyi?"

"I don't know. Uncle adopts practically everyone and calls them family. He already thinks of you as his niece.” Zuko immediately turns bright red and coughs. “Kiyi is sweet, but hella stubborn."

Just like Zuko. "Are you sure you're not related?"

"Maybe? Like distant cousins or something?"

"Does Iroh have any kids?"

"His son died in the war."

I apparently have a talent for finding the most sombre subjects. Either that, or there is no end to Zuko's family drama. "Oh. Sorry."

"What's this all about anyway?"

"She told me about the blue spirit."

Aaaaaaaand cue the switch from deep red to paler than pale as the color drains from Zuko’s face. "That's... well, anyone could say that. It wouldn't be the first time something supernatural was attributed to the sea. Take... Poseidon for example."

"Or Tui and La." I wait for the furrowed brow to follow.

And... check. “Who, what now?” he asks.

“Your mom’s poem reminded me of the moon and ocean spirits, Tui and La. It’s a belief my ancestors in Alaska held, a harmonious push-and-pull relationship to keep the world in balance.”

“Sounds like the tides.”

“Exactly.”

Here comes the part where he sighs dramatically, but I have no idea what he'll say next.

“It’s just another way to explain what we don’t understand. What we cannot control.”

Hmm, interesting. “Isn’t that what spirituality does?" I muse aloud. "Help us make peace with those things? Like death, for example.”

I am NOT speaking from experience because if I’m honest with myself, I am far from making peace with my mother’s death. If he has any insight, I'm all ears.

“I… don’t know.”

I don’t know, either, but I wish I did... for the both of us.

I spend another day at the Marine Center in a complete state of distraction. After this, Yue will undoubtedly reassign me to the dreaded job of cleaning up seal shit. She alternates between giving me looks of warning and pity, so I’m still not sure what to make of our conversation or anything else that's transpired since then.

I'm going to ask Zuko about it. Point blank. He'll probably turn a ghastly shade I haven't seen, yet. But it's better than black and blue, if his father really is making threats.

But when we head back to his uncle's restaurant after work, we don't slip into our usual booth near the back. I follow Zuko past the kitchen to the stairs that lead up to Iroh’s apartment. We haven't been here alone together since that night, and all of those sensations return to me as if that moment is suspended in time. I’m looking at the face of someone who’s been beaten, and all I want to do is kiss the pain away. I won’t reopen those wounds—not now, not ever.

Zuko is not one for dwelling in the past, though. He doesn’t skip a beat as he leads me down the hallway, and I think maybe we're going to his room. My brain and pulse race with curiosity—of the possibilities—but he stops short of the doorway and points at something on the wall.

My breath catches. It’s a framed newspaper article from The Modern Times, dated May 2009, the same year my mom died.

The headline reads, "No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are." I skim down to the byline at the bottom. "Professor Kasai teaches English composition at Atlas University."

Zuko's mom taught at AU? And she wrote for The Modern Times, too?

"When I worked for my dad last summer, I found some of Mom’s files," Zuko explains. "I knew she wrote a few articles, but I didn't know Uncle had this until I started staying here recently.”

"Do you think our moms knew each other? It's a big newspaper, but maybe—"

"Was your mom The Painted Lady?"

I stop breathing altogether. "What?"

He runs a hand through his hair like he does when he's nervous. "Was that her...pen name... or whatever?"

It was a reference to war paint and a tribute to our tribal heritage. "Yes. Why?"

"Then I need to show you something."