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#something something mirroring zuko alone and he's not alone but he will be soon!!!
petricorah · 1 year
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i have a fic idea if i ever get around to it i want to start soon where it's zukka modern au where they decide to take really long road trip before sokka has to go back home and it's supposed to be a fun last hurrah but it's tinged by the fact that they both want to confess but it's too late
(aka long drives on the endless road where you really start to think about what you want in life and what you want is the person next to you and you just can't have it.)
and also accidentally getting high on cactus juice because they got lost and sokka thought hey, i'm an outdoorsman, i totally got this (he doesn't have this)
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https://www.tumblr.com/sokkastyles/635072206757560320/azula-and-the-mirror?source=share
I love your analysis, I'm very interested to hear your thoughts on this post.
As usual with this motherfucker, their bias shows pretty fast.
"People read it as a sympathetic moment for Azula, but I'd say it's toxic" Newflash: it's both. Yes, she made Ty Lee cry by being mean. But she holds all the power in that relationship. She can just tell Ty Lee to stop making a scene and Ty Lee would obey.
Instead Azula apologizes, something she rarely does, because she genuinely felt bad. And while Azula likes being praised, she does NOT like being comforted, because comfort implies that she failed somehow or was weak enough to let something get to her. There's a reason she immediatelly dismisses her own confession about her issues with her mom with "she was right of course" and saying that she "doesn't have sob stories.
Azula. Doesn't. Like. Pity. How could she? She was raised by freaking Ozai. Her admiting her jealousy towards Ty Lee is part of the episode's theme of "Ember Island reveals your true self." Behind that selfish, cruel, egotistical princess, there's a confused, lonely, insecure child, much like there's a frightened, hurt young boy hiding behind Zuko's hostile exterior.
"We will never know what Ursa herself really, truly thought about Azula"
Except we do. We see her spending alone time with Zuko, but not with Azula. We see her explaining to Zuko what he did wrong when he threw a huge chunk of bread at a turtleduck, hurting it, but with Azula is just "We don't speak like that" and "Not another word" followed by "What is wrong with this child?" Ursa's character description even full on states Zuko is her FAVORITE.
If we take the comics into account, it's even worse. We see Azula burning flowers to anger her mother so she would stop paying attention solely to Zuko, and Ursa reacts like she just killed someone.
Ursa woke Zuko up to say goodbye, but didn't do the same to Azula, letting her daughter think she wasn't worthy of something so basic as one last moment with her mom.
It's pretty clear that, in Ursa's eyes, Azula was the "problem child." Does that mean she'd ever treat her the way Ozai treated Zuko? No, but there's a clear unwillingness to ask herself why Azula is the way she is, if there's something she can do about it, if she's contribuiting to it somehow, etc. There's a reason Zuko, the one never hesitates to pick up a fight, doesn't argue when Azula says their mother liked him more and thought of her as monster.
Questioning whether Azula's feelings about her mom felt about her are connect is the on the same level as questioning if Zuko was right about their dad favoring Azula and hating him. The problem is staring everyone in the face.
"That part of herself with the part of herself that was taught right and wrong by her mother" Casual reminder: while Ursa didn't approve of hostility and violence within the family, she was as much of an imperialist as Ozai. She laughed at Iroh's joke or burning Ba Sing Se to the ground. She never questions the war. Ursa might be a better person than Ozai, but she was still DEEPLY flawed, and it's not surprising that Azula, a CHILD, could not understand why her mom was totally okay with genocide, but would be horrified if Azula said "Grandpa is old and will die soon."
Ursa's teachings are contradictory. Ozai's are vile, but consistent. Azula is 14-years-old, raised in a society that normalized violence so much that even her mom, descendent of an Avatar, was affected by it deeply.
Being raised solely by Ursa, with no contact with Ozai ever, would not magically make Azula a saint because Ursa was no saint. She did NOT always know right from wrong, and her inconsistent stance on what counted as "bad behavior" made it nearly impossible for Azula to figure out what the fuck her mom expected from her - once again, making Ozai look better by comparisson because what he wanted was vile, but was crystal clear.
"She blames her mother for the person she is, instead of herself" She doesn't. She literally says Ursa is RIGHT about her, but merely admits that she is sad that meant she couldn't be loved. How the fuck is that saying "She made me the way I am"?
Azula would blame herself a billion times before blaming either of her parents - even though, as the adults who taught VERY poorly, they hold far more responsibility than she does, because she's still a child.
Why is Zuko recognizing that his father's abuse messed him up a winning moment of him coming into his own, but Azula trying to process her trauma about her mom needs to twisted into "blaming her for who she is"?
"Azula doesn't want responsibility or redemption" Neither did Zuko for most of the show. They're characters. They go through ARCS. Not wanting her to have redemption is a valid narrative choice, but acting like it's IMPOSSIBLE when the show itself says that even freaking Ozai could potentially change someday is ridiculous. Ehasz himself said they were toying with the idea of redeeming Azula. People didn't pull that out of thin air just because she had a sad story.
"She is harming the image of herself due to self-loathing" *one sentence later* "She imagines her mom again because she never blames herself for anything and always takes her rage out on others instead" I don't even need to point out the blatant contradiction here, do I?
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lady-tortilla-chip · 7 months
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i think one relevant thought in regards to criticisms of Aang's character arc and how I don't think most of the discourse comes from a place of actually understanding his character, is that lot of it seems to revolve around the idea that people think that the only valid kind of character arc is about change? Like they think characters HAVE to let go, or that growth necessarily means losing something; a big part about Aang's character is that his beliefs matter but most characters either don't understand them or dont care about them (implicitly mirroring Ozai's own 'WHO CARES, THEY LOST' mentality), so his struggle is in keeping true to his beliefs and ways in a time actively hostile to them, I think?
No that’s 100% true. His big fight the entire time is proving the value of his cultural beliefs in a world which doesn’t understand them but needs them. It’s why I mention in my tags that Aang’s arc was never about being fundamentally changed. He didn’t need an ideological upheaval in order to grow because he wasn’t supposed to grow AWAY from the kindness and value of life that the monks instilled in him. He NEEDED it in order to still see the Fire Nation and Zuko, as worth saving too. (It was Zuko’s role in the narrative to have his ideology drastically changed and shifted!!)
Also the whole loss thing will never not bother me because it essentially implies losing his entire people and culture wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough that he had to deal with the guilt of being the sole survivor of his people. Of having made a choice that took him away from them when they needed him. How is that not enough? It’s literally what haunts him through book 1. It’s what inspires his rash decisions to go along with plots to figure out the Avatar State too soon. It’s what drives him in book 3 post the failed invasion to decide he CAN’T keep dragging people down with him he HAS to do it alone.
His loss is so big. So incredibly big. I don’t understand how it’s not enough.
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muffinlance · 4 years
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So my friends and i came up with a sort of AU where people sprout flowers in their hair when they feel any sort of love. So anyways, ahklut crew teases Zuko about how many blue family flowers have been growing in his hair the longer he stays on the ship.
This puts his Season One hair into a whole new perspective.
---
Uncle's hair has dried flowers: his wife's panda lily, Lu Ten's dragon ivy. Everyone knows that dead flowers aren't as fragile as they seem, but he has the crewmen carry an umbrella over him when it rains, anyway. Carefully, he combs around them every morning. Leaves from the vine, Zuko hears him crooning sometimes, even though Lu Ten won't ever lose his leaves. He won't grow any new ones, either.
(Tucked away under his greying strands, still too close to the scalp to be easily seen, a bud has been growing for years. Iroh does not pressure it to bloom, but he does look forward to the occasion.)
(And then a storm, and the Dragon of the West realizes there is no way to tell a dead bloom from a live one without prying its petals open, and this he cannot do. A dead bloom can never heal.)
The Akhlut's crew find the Fire Prince's shaved head profane. When he's caught stealing razors, they crack down. Stubble grows around the black ponytail. Flowers don't.
(At thirteen, the Fire Lord set a hand on Zuko's face, and burned Ursa's sheltering rose bramble away. It would have grown back if she was alive.)
("It would have grown back if she still loved you," Azula corrects him, and he's never sure if it was a fever dream that placed her next to his sick bed, or if she really was there, her precise flames as good as any garden shears as she burned his fire lily from above her ear.)
"Whose is that?" Toklo asks, delighted and too loud, when he catches sight of the little sprig of blue flowers that are only visible when the Fire Prince lets his hair down to wash.
"No one," Zuko says, loudly. "My little sister," he says, more quietly.
Uncle's white jade flower is too large, too showy, it sticks out as it curls above his head. He snips it off between his fingers each morning, but it never stops trying to come back.
The crewmen, their own heads in ruckus and unashamed bloom, watch his daily pruning with distaste. No one ever catches what the Fire Lord's flower looks like; they can never catch him pruning it.
(They assume it's there to be pruned.)
(Zuko would like to know what his father's love looks like, too.)
His outrage at Toklo's snowdrops peaking their way through his black fuzz is as hilarious as it is worrying.
("Don't get attached, Toklo," they warn.
"But warm water," says their youngest crewmember, who has never seen a reason to be stingy with his love.)
The Fire Prince shouts and steams. The snowdrops shake quite merrily in his rage. He doesn't pluck them.
He doesn't pluck Kustaa's grudging little cloudberry flowers, either.
"Are you loving me to spite me?" the Fire Prince accuses.
"Yes," says Kustaa, who parted his hair specifically to show off the new little bud trying so hard to hide.
They don't give the boy to the Earth Kingdom. They forget to scowl while they teach him how to do new things. They stop threatening him, mostly. That shouldn't be all it takes for those little buds to start spreading among the crew.
(The Wani's crew had them, too. Back when the prince was a shouty little thirteen year old monster, they'd taken it as a sign that things would soon get better. Things did not get better. Most of them forgot about those under-developed buds, except on the odd occasion when their combs would jar against them.)
Then they fight a Fire Navy ship, and find the prince curled up as far as he can get from the man he's killed. Kustaa holds him as he shakes, a fire lily in full bloom on his head. It would look ridiculous, if it didn't look so much like blood.
He's not the prince for long after that.
His hair isn't so barren of flowers for long after that, either. Eventually, he even lets his real uncle's bloom find its place among the rest. It doesn't look so overbearing, when it's not so alone.
"I miss him," The boy admits, as they sit on the main mast (as one does).
Somewhere far, but not too far, a tired old man passes his mirror, and catches the impossible flash of something new. A red fire lily, finally unfurled into bloom.
"Zuko," he says.
This neatly accelerates his plans for active treason.
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reinerispretty · 4 years
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little moments. zuko x f!reader rotations bonus
HI UM!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 2K!!!!! i love each and every one of u with my WHOLE HEART!!!! 
i was trying to think of something special to do that everyone would enjoy, so why not a good callback to the reason why most of us are here hehehe
when i wrote rotations, there were lots of avenues that i thought of taking after the fall of ba sing se! in the fic, (y/n) is arrested, and i posted a bonus already of how it would have ended if she had escaped with sokka and the rest of the gaang. HOWEVER, i did think of her taking azula up on her offer of going back to the fire nation and being there with zuko (insert side eye emoji) 
so that’s what this is! a little rotations bonus to say thank you so much for sticking with me!!
She had contemplated it as she was in her room on the ship. Of running away and finding Sokka, Katara, and Toph. She would tell them that she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t strong enough.
But as she lie awake that night, she thought of everything Aang had sacrificed in order to ensure that they would have a better life. If he was truly gone, it would a disservice to their entire cause if she couldn’t risk something the way her beloved friend had.
The weight of what she had done settled into her stomach as soon as (Y/N) opened her eyes. She stared up at the ceiling of one of the guest bedrooms in the Earth King’s palace, needles dancing behind her eyes. For the first time in months, she was completely alone. 
Azula had offered her immunity if she chose to join her. All would be forgiven if (Y/N) would just join them and return to her home, her real home. The mainland of the Fire Nation and the inner workings of palace life. It would be like nothing had changed. And (Y/N) had said yes. 
It wasn’t as if she wanted to betray her friends. It was something that Sokka had discussed with her, in the event that she was captured. 
A knock sounded against the heavy green door. (Y/N) sat up against the fluffy green pillows and called whoever it was in. Servants filtered in, carrying bundles of clothing, brushes, soaps, and dishes of water. One stopped at the foot of her bed. “The Princess has asked that you ready yourself to see her in the throne room.” 
(Y/N) nodded silently and slipped out of the bed. The servants guided her to a chair in front of a vanity where they worked at her appearance.
Looking in the mirror was difficult. (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, as she was dressed in the traditional clothing of her nation, she kept her eyes cast downward and remained silent as the servants scrubbed the dirt from her nails and face and brushed the knots from her hair. It was as if, little by little, evidence of her time with Aang, Katara, Toph, and Sokka was being erased. 
Sokka. She thought back to their conversation on the floor of their house in Ba Sing Se, shrouded in darkness as they whispered to each other. “Do what you can to keep yourself safe,” He had said quietly. “Pretend that you like them or something. When you can, meet back up with us and tell us about the Fire Lord’s plan.”
“I’m not leaving you guys,” She had scoffed, hoping that Sokka’s request of her was fake. Did he really expect her to leave her friends? The people who had become her family?
Sokka had turned over on his stomach to look at her. “You’re our best chance at gathering intel about the Fire Nation. They know you there, they trust you.” 
“Not anymore,” She pointed out. Sokka shrugged. 
“They have a soft spot for you. You’re one of our advantages, (Y/N). If given the opportunity, I need you to take it.” 
She had turned over, staring straight into his sky blue eyes. She rested her chin on her palm. She wasn’t taking Sokka seriously, so she had humored him. “Fine,” She agreed. “If Azula wanders up to me and asks me to go back, I’ll play spy.” 
Sokka’s face remained serious despite her joking tone. “I don’t want you to do this either,” He had told her. “If you get into any serious danger, just come back to m--us.” 
(Y/N) had laughed. “Danger? In the Fire Nation? No way.” 
In the present, (Y/N) dared to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was done in the traditional Fire Nation topknot, flowing freely down her back. She looked as she had over a year ago. Beloved daughter of the Fire Nation with a miserable glint in her eye. Was this who she had always been? She swallowed thickly to press down the tears. 
She had learned to trust Sokka’s judgment overtime. It was a good plan. She was the only one that could do it. But it hadn’t been a day and she already couldn’t wait to be reunited with her friends. In the meantime, she would have to do her best to pretend that this was the life she wanted. One of cruelty and submission. 
She had sat in the palace the night before, as Zuko and Azula fought Katara and Aang in the caverns below the city. She had watched Appa fly away, with no knowledge of how her friends had fared during the fight. 
Once she was done getting ready, (Y/N) dismissed the servants. She walked quietly to the throne room, her head down. When she entered, Azula was sat in the Earth King’s throne, still wearing her Earth Kingdom disguise. Mai and Ty Lee were seated at the steps beneath her. The one person she was expecting to see was absent. 
Ty Lee’s face lit up when she saw (Y/N), and as soon as she finished her bow, the young acrobat cartwheeled over to her and gave her a hug. (Y/N’s) first instinct was to stiffen, but she fought it and squeezed Ty Lee as hard as she could. 
“It’s so good to have you back!” Ty Lee exclaimed, clasping (Y/N’s) cheeks between her hands. “I’ve never seen your aura look better!” 
“That’s...great?” (Y/N) questioned, furrowing her brows. Her eyes drifted over to Mai, who picked her nails with the blades of her darts. 
“Hey.” Was all she said. Well, that was alright. Mai and (Y/N) had never been very close. 
“Good morning,” Azula drawled, a smile curling on her lips. (Y/N) was unsure if it was genuine or menacing. Both were to be expected when dealing with Azula. “I’ve talked to Father. He’s willing to fully pardon you for your crimes.” 
“That’s--” (Y/N) swallowed. “That’s very generous of the Fire Lord.” 
“Yes. I told him all about the poison the Avatar and his friends put into your head. Without guidance from me, you were easily influenced.” Azula adjusted her position in the throne, tucking her legs beneath herself. She looked like she belonged there. “Father and I both agreed that it would be best if I kept you close. You need support from your real friends.” 
(Y/N) knew what this was, and Azula did too. It was not something from the kindness of the young princess’s heart. It was a way to control (Y/N), to make sure that she wouldn’t stray. A single misstep and it was likely that she would be six feet under. It was even more likely that Azula would put her there herself. 
(Y/N) tried as hard as she could to smile gratefully. “Thank you, Azula. Please give your father my thanks.” The doors to the throne room opened then, revealing Zuko. He was dressed in a royal Fire Nation robe, but his green Earth Kingdom clothes still poked out from beneath the red fabric. (Y/N) liked to think that she had become very vigilant in her time running from the Fire Nation, so she noticed the way Mai’s face lit up just slightly at his appearance. 
He looked over at (Y/N), his eyes widening in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, then immediately shut it. She stared back at him, her eyes boring into his. While it may appear that she and Zuko were on the same side, she had no intention of forgiving him for turning on Iroh. For throwing away all the progress he had made in his time away from the Fire Nation. He was so close to becoming the version of himself that she always believed he could be and he had thrown it all away for trivial acceptance. 
Zuko was the first to turn away and (Y/N) looked back to Ty Lee. 
“Can you tell me about the boy you were traveling with?” Ty Lee questioned. “The one with the ponytail?” 
“Yes, (Y/N),” Azula said. “Do tell us all about your time with the Avatar and his friends. I’d like to know what they’re planning.” 
“His name is Sokka,” (Y/N) told Ty Lee, trying her hardest to not show any amount of affection in her voice. “And I don’t know what they’re planning. They never trusted me enough to share.” She stared straight into Azula’s golden eyes. Azula was a skilled liar, but (Y/N) had grown up with her. She had a lot more tricks up her sleeve than the princess would anticipate. 
Azula narrowed her fine eyebrows. “That’s quite alright. I suppose we don’t have much to worry about, considering Zuko killed the Avatar.” 
(Y/N) had to hold in her gasp or else she would be jeopardizing everything she was here for. There was no way Aang could be gone. He was the connection between the Spirit World and the Human World. Wouldn’t they be able to feel it? 
She curled her hands into fists, her nails pressing crescent shaped marks into her skin. “You should be thanking him,” Said Azula. (Y/N’s) eyes slid across the room to Zuko. He stared at his sister, his own brow furrowed in confusion. “Go on. Say thank you.” 
“Thank you,” (Y/N) said quietly to Zuko. She hated how silent he was being. If Aang was gone, then Zuko would now be dead to her. He had done something unforgivable. If he didn’t understand the weight of his actions now, then he never would. 
“Our ship leaves tonight,” Azula announced, standing up and stretching her body. “We should be back home by morning. (Y/N), you’ll be staying in the palace with Zuzu and I, since your parents failed to protect you from the Avatar.” 
“Thank you,” (Y/N) repeated, perhaps because her brain couldn’t think of anything else. 
“Father also wants to have an audience with you,” Azula said as she skipped down the steps. She strode over to (Y/N), the same mischievous glint in her eye. “Something about loyalty.” Azula’s smile was menacing. 
(Y/N) swallowed. She was in way over her head. 
---
Their ship docked in the royal port, just below the palace. Guards escorted (Y/N) off of the ship, which was horribly embarrassing. Truly they couldn’t think of her as that big of a threat to require guards? Perhaps they had thought she might try to escape. She had contemplated it as she was in her room on the ship. Of running away and finding Sokka, Katara, and Toph. She would tell them that she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t strong enough. 
But as she lie awake that night, she thought of everything Aang had sacrificed in order to ensure that they would have a better life. If he was truly gone, it would a disservice to their entire cause if she couldn’t risk something the way her beloved friend had. It was intimidating, being surrounded by those she had fought for so long, but (Y/N) was different now. She wasn’t the girl that they thought they knew. Her time with her friends had changed her for the better. 
So, (Y/N) stepped off the ship and back onto the Fire Nation mainland with her chin held high, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. If she were to be believable, she had to exude confidence, even if she was scared out of her mind. Her confidence began to falter as the guards walked her past Zuko and Azula, past Mai and Ty Lee, and to the room that she remembered to be the Fire Lord’s throne room. 
She had not set foot into this room since she was nine, when she had exhibited her firebending skills for Fire Lord Azulon. So much had changed since then. If she had thought Azulon was intimidating then, Ozai was something to be feared. 
He sat on his throne, red flames shooting up in columns on either side. As soon as she was before him, the guards left, and (Y/N) fell into a bow. She absolutely despised groveling, but she knew it was what needed to be done in order to survive beneath the Fire Lord’s nose. 
She tried her best to bring back all the information of Fire Nation etiquette that had gathered dust at the back of her mind. After a few moments of silence, she rose and sat on her knees, hands folded in her lap as she stared forward at Ozai. Her eyes were downcast, avoiding her gaze. (Y/N) tried her best to come across as shameful. 
“You have grown since the last time you were in these halls,” The Fire Lord spoke. His voice was calm, too calm for someone who was talking to a traitor. (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath. 
“My lord,” She said, her voice shaky from nerves. “I am so, so sorry for betraying our nation. I deserve to be thrown into prison and never let out.” 
“Is that what you want?” Ozai questioned. “To be rotting in a cell?” (Y/N) curled her fingers into her dress and made a rash decision. She looked at the Fire Lord and stared directly into his amber eyes. 
“I want to prove myself to the nation. And to you. I was a foolish girl. After Zuko’s banishment, I was heartbroken. I let my feelings get the better of me.” There was some truth to her lies. She wasn’t foolish, nor did she want to prove herself, but Zuko’s banishment had only been a catalyst for how she felt about the Fire Nation. 
“I don’t give second chances.” (Y/N) felt a tugging at her heart. She couldn’t report to her friends from jail. Or if she was dead. “But perhaps you can redeem yourself after your punishment.” (Y/N’s) eyebrow quirked up curiously. 
Ozai plucked a metal rod from his side and stood, walking down to meet her. (Y/N) knew what it was. Their words for ‘traitor’ were cast into iron at the end of the rod, which was already heating up from Ozai’s touch. The brand was given to those who had betrayed the nation, so that all would know of their treachery. They considered it to be a better option that rotting in jail or being executed. 
(Y/N) gulped. She had never seen a branding performed, but she had heard the screams as Ursa had ushered her, Azula, and Zuko away from the palace when they were young. It was a practice that not even Azulon had instituted. It was purely of Ozai’s crafting. 
“Your arm,” Ozai said, gesturing to her right arm. (Y/N) pulled up her sleeve. She could feel her body getting hot, the fight or flight instincts kicking in and begging her to run. As a native to the Fire Nation and a firebender, she was able to withstand a great amount of heat. Which meant that the poker needed to be thousands of degrees hotter than the average in order to brand her skin. “This is a punishment for your own actions,” Ozai sneered. “You brought this upon yourself.” 
The hot poker pressed into the skin of her forearm and (Y/N) had to bite down as hard as she possibly could on her bottom lip to keep herself from shouting, but it was no use. The pain was unbearable, shooting up her arm and reverberating on every nerve within her body. She couldn’t control her shrill screams as they echoed in the massive hall. Hot tears streamed down her face as she watched what Ozai was doing to her. She should have escaped when she had the chance, should have told Sokka no, she couldn’t return to the Fire Nation. She had been a child then, she wouldn’t be safe from the horrors that Ozai inflicted on others. 
He removed the iron from her skin and (Y/N) collapsed in on herself, her body shaking with sobs. She knew that showing weakness was even more dangerous now than ever before, but this was a treatment that was reserved for seasoned war criminals, not fifteen year old girls. She looked up at Ozai through cloudy eyes, barely able to see through her tears. “Thank you, my lord,” She said, her voice shaky and small because her throat was clouded with sobs. 
“You are dismissed,” He said as he returned to his position on his throne, not bothering to look back at her. (Y/N) stood on wobbly legs and bowed once more before walking slowly out of the throne room. As soon as she was beyond its doors, she started running. She couldn’t even see where she was going, but her feet carried her to the only place she knew would help. 
She sobbed heavily as she reached the turtle duck pond, dropping to her knees and shoving her arm into the cool water. The turtle ducks quacked and flapped away from her, but (Y/N) couldn’t care. She wanted Katara, whose healing powers would ease the burning pain shooting up and down her arm. She wanted to be held, to be reassured that everything would be alright. She cried, her tears dripping into the pond water. It probably wasn’t the most sanitary situation, but the coolness of the water helped ease her pain just slightly. 
“(Y/N)?” Zuko’s voice sounded far away in her ears. “What happened?” 
(Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to look any farther up than his boots. She felt so tired, but she couldn’t afford to pass out. She couldn’t let her guard down once while in this place. “Just go away,” She said meekly, the fingers on her other hand clawing into the soft grass. 
“Father gave her her punishment,” Azula said from the other side of (Y/N). Having the both of them here was the absolute last thing she wanted. Azula pulled her arm from the pond and wrapped cool towels around her burn. (Y/N) hissed in pain, but she had to admit that it was better than the pond water. “If it makes you feel any better,” continued Azula nonchalantly. “You passed his test.” 
“You knew about this?” Zuko demanded, his eyes wild with anger. Azula scoffed. 
“Relax, Zuzu. It’s just a little burn.” Delirious, (Y/N) laughed bitterly. Her ragged breathing was starting to even out. 
Zuko bent down at her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. (Y/N) shrugged it off and stood, refusing to look at him. She wiped the tears from her eyes and removed the towels from her arm. ‘Traitor’ was beginning to blister on her skin. It would be something that remained with her for the rest of her life. 
She looked up at Azula. “Can you take me to my room?” 
“You should probably go to the infirmary,” Zuko suggested. 
“Zuko, I heard that Mai was looking for you,” Azula’s voice was laced with spite that stung both Zuko and (Y/N). Azula linked her arm with (Y/N’s) good one and led her back into the palace. 
“Father said it was necessary for you to understand the damage you’ve done,” Azula said lowly to (Y/N). “You weren’t only a nuisance to me, you know. The whole Fire Nation was ashamed of you.” Azula giggled. She had a way of making jokes out of insults, but once she saw (Y/N’s) face, her own softened. “It will heal.” 
“Will there be more tests to prove my willingness?” (Y/N) questioned. “If they’re worse than this, I don’t know if I’ll survive.” 
“That’s all Father had planned for you.” (Y/N) noticed how Azula failed to mention if she had any tests for her. With a deep sigh, (Y/N) hoped that her friends were better off than she was. 
---
A nurse had visited (Y/N’s) room to tend to her wound. The expression on her face had been a mixture of disgust and pity. (Y/N) hadn’t had the energy to leave her bed for a few days, which she recognized was putting her mission in jeopardy. She was supposed to be gathering information, not wallowing beneath the blankets. 
After the nurse had dressed her bandages, (Y/N) decided it was best to finally roam about the palace. There was still a stinging sensation on her skin whenever it rubbed against the fabric of her dress, but she tried her best to ignore it as she walked through the halls of the Royal Palace, as well as memory lane. The place had become considerably more focused on Ozai rather than the greatness of the Fire Nation. Servants scampered about in fear, careful not to cross her path. She didn’t recognize anyone that she saw. (Y/N) used to know everyone by name. She guessed that they had either fled the palace or had been fired. Or worse. 
Being there felt like being out of place in your own home. Thinking back on her past felt like looking into someone else’s life. 
She paused at the tapestries of the Fire Lords, staring up at Ozai’s looming figure. He looked the most menacing, and perhaps that was because he was the most dangerous. There was only a month until the Day of the Black Sun, but that seemed like such a short amount of time to figure out how to defeat Ozai. 
“It’s different,” Zuko said at her side, and (Y/N) jumped in surprise, clutching a hand to her heart. “Being back here after so long,” He elaborated. 
(Y/N) hummed. If she were being honest, she avoided Zuko as much as she could. She felt as though she couldn’t stand to be around him. If she were alone with him for too long, she might end up beating him senseless. 
“Why did you come back?” Zuko questioned. “I thought you were happy with them.” 
“I guess we both don’t know each other as well as we thought,” (Y/N) said, keeping her voice as level as possible. She looked at Zuko, her face devoid of emotion. “I’m not here for you.” 
Zuko frowned. “I didn’t think you were.” 
“Good.” She turned to walk away, but Zuko grabbed her by the sleeve of her robes. 
“If you’re here, why are you mad at me? You’ve forgiven everyone else.” 
“You killed my friend,” She said quietly. “How could I ever forgive you for doing that?” 
“That wasn’t--” Zuko huffed, lowering his voice. “I didn’t kill Aang. Azula used her lightning on him.” 
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 
“You would trust Azula over me?” 
“You of all people should know that you can’t trust anyone here.” She crossed her arms over one another, wincing at the contact of her wound. “Why would Azula lie?” 
“Azula always lies,” Zuko said, repeating the mantra they had created when they were kids. “Why would it matter to you what happened in the underground city? You left them. You betrayed them.” (Y/N) flinched. 
“And you feel so confident after abandoning your uncle?” Zuko’s eyes sparked with anger. After all this time, at least she knew exactly what buttons to push. “I cared about them,” She said, choosing her words very carefully. “I spent months with them, it was impossible not to. If they had killed you, I would be feeling the same way.” (Y/N) swallowed. “But they wouldn’t have. They’re different from you and me.” 
She left him then, her heart pounding against her chest. Part of her wished that she could reach out to Zuko, to make him see all the wrong that their nation was causing the world, but she knew it would be too dangerous. Zuko’s loyalties lay with his family and Mai now. He might have been (Y/N’s) once, but he was no longer. 
---
“Are you really going to stay under that umbrella the whole time?” Ty Lee pouted, grabbing (Y/N) by the arm. “The whole point of going to the beach is to get some sun!” 
(Y/N) poked her feet from beneath the umbrella, wiggling her toes in the warm sand. She pointed at them. “They’re getting sun.” Ty Lee sighed, retreating back to her towel on the beach, where dozens of boys were already waiting for her. (Y/N) adjusted on her own beach chair, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. The words etched into her arm would be a dead giveaway to the children of Fire Nation aristocracy that littered Ember Island. It would cause more trouble than it was worth. 
“I’m surprised you’re not running into the water,” Mai said in her monotonous voice. “I thought you loved to swim.” 
“Yeah, I’d just rather not draw attention to the ugly branding on my arm,” (Y/N) said offhandedly, digging into her beach bag for a pack of fire flakes. She offered some to Mai, who took a few and shook them into her palm. The girls ate together quietly. 
“It’s better than getting sent to Boiling Rock,” Mai said and (Y/N) snorted. 
“That’s what I keep telling myself, but it didn’t feel like it in the moment.” Mai’s dark eyes glanced at (Y/N’s) arm, ‘traitor’ slightly visible beneath the sheerness of her shawl. 
“I didn’t think they were actually going to do it,” Mai admitted. “Azula begged her dad not to execute you.” 
(Y/N) coughed from surprise and also from the heat of the fire flakes. “Well, I’m glad to hear I was saved from a worse fate.” Zuko returned then, taking a seat between Mai and (Y/N). He handed his girlfriend ice cream, which promptly fell on her lap. 
She hadn’t been on Ember Island for many summers, but things rarely changed on the tourist destination. Her family used to have a house on the opposite side of the island. She wondered who occupied it now. 
Azula squatted at (Y/N’s) other side. “We’ve been invited to a party,” She announced, a triumphant smile on her face. (Y/N) sighed. 
“I don’t really think I’m up for a party,” She said, and Azula’s fingers wrapped around her arm, pressing into the healing skin. 
“Please? You have to come!” Azula demanded, but her smile seemed genuine. (Y/N) coughed. 
“Azula? My arm.” Azula lifted her hands immediately, giving her a look that was almost apologetic. 
“You have to come,” Azula repeated. “I already told them to expect the five of us.” 
So (Y/N) was forced to attend a Fire Nation party. If the children of these diplomats had annoyed her as kids, she couldn’t stand them as teenagers. (Y/N) kept to the wall, preferring to people watch and nibble on the stacked plate she had snagged from the food table. She had traded her shawl for a long-sleeved shirt that had been buried in the back of Lo and Li’s closet. It was definitely old fashioned, but (Y/N) didn’t really care. 
As she watched, (Y/N) thought of how she had never actually been to a party. Growing up, there were certain obligations and expectations that she needed to uphold. Being betrothed to Zuko meant taking lessons and maintaining appearances. She had gone to an all girl’s school for a short amount of time before being pulled out of her lessons to be tutored at the palace. Really, her entire childhood had consisted of Zuko, Azula, and other adults. 
“Hey, how’s it going?” One boy asked, walking up to her and leaning against the wall. (Y/N) jumped in surprise, nearly spilling her food. When did she get so jumpy? Perhaps it was a side effect of constantly being on edge. 
“Uh, hi,” She said, unsure why this boy was talking to her. Is this what happened at parties? People just walked up to other people without formal introductions? She felt so lame. 
“I’m Lee,” He said, and (Y/N) snorted, because the Fire Nation had a million Lee’s and Zuko had been one of them. Her eyes cut over to the prince, who stood brooding in a corner as he watched his girlfriend. 
“Sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, turning back to the boy. “I have so many friends named Lee. I’m (Y/N).” She took a bite of a carrot to punctuate her sentence. 
“Is this your first time on the island?” Lee asked, resting his back against the wall as she had. His eyes were a nice light brown, his hair black and shoulder-length and tied half up in the back. He was likely a whole foot taller than (Y/N). 
She shook her head. “I used to come here all the time when I was a kid. But y’know, life gets in the way so I haven’t been back in a few years.” 
“So where are you from?” He had a lot of questions. 
“The mainland,” (Y/N) answered. She wanted to be honest, as keeping up lies tended to be difficult, but she didn’t want to tell him that she was currently living at the palace. “And you?” 
“I’m from a smaller island off the coast of the mainland. My dad’s the mayor there.” 
“Oh, that’s nice.” (Y/N) realized she had a hard time talking to boys that she didn’t know almost everything about. She set her empty plate in the trash can and extended her hand to him, watching carefully so that her sleeves would not roll up. “Do you want to dance?” 
“Dance?” He questioned. (Y/N) smiled. 
“There’s music and an empty floor. That implies dancing.” 
“I don’t think--” She grabbed him by the hand anyway, leading him to the middle of the floor. 
“My grandfather taught me this one,” She told him, and she started dancing. It was another lie. Aang had taught her the traditional Fire Nation dances from his childhood, one night while their group was camped by a river bank and feeling incredibly bored. She had had no idea that her culture had once had a history of anything other than war, but learning the dance moves had excited her. 
“Like this?” Lee asked, repeating her movements. (Y/N) nodded her head excitedly. 
“Exactly!” She looked around the room and locked eyes with Ty Lee, who was always willing to have a fun time. She gestured for her to join her and once Ty Lee ran to the middle, other boys started flocking to the center to dance with them. 
For a while, (Y/N) forgot about her mission and the friends she had left behind. Later, this would make her sad. But for right now, she felt like a regular girl in the Fire Nation. 
Lee had pulled her close and spun her around so fast that she had been practically thrown from the crowd of dancers, spinning around the room until she eventually bumped into someone. (Y/N) laughed out an apology as the person gripped her forearms to steady her balance. When she looked up, she stared straight at Zuko. 
She had allowed herself to stare, for a few seconds. The last time they had been this close, he had been preparing for his Agni Kai. The pink and red skin of his scar might have been off-putting to some, but (Y/N) thought he looked as lovely as the first day she had met him. She wanted to reach her hand up and touch him, to feel the contrast between soft cheek and rough scar tissue, but as soon as she had that thought, she pushed it away. 
“Sorry,” She repeated as she separated herself from Zuko. The mood was ruined. She remembered everything that he had done, everything that she had left behind, and soon she went back to her spot on the wall, watching as the others danced happily. 
---
They had left the party, but really they had been thrown out. Zuko had been jealous of boys talking to Mai, so they had broken up, but then Zuko had started a fight? (Y/N) wasn’t necessarily sure what had happened. One moment she was moving back toward the snack table, the next Azula was pulling her out of the house by her collar. 
They sat on the beach now, surrounding the fire that (Y/N) had started. She remained quiet as they listed their qualms with each other, and with the universe. Her eyes remained focused on the flames as she processed the information and thought of any way that Sokka might be able to use it against them. But then a pit settled in her stomach. These were personal things that they were sharing, and it didn’t seem right to expose them so viciously. 
“You’re just going to be quiet?” Zuko demanded, his voice rough and laced with annoyance. Her eyes snapped toward him, a frown placing itself upon her features. 
“We’re all sharing,” Ty Lee said gently from her right. “Even Azula shared something.” (Y/N’s) eyes cut to Azula, who looked at her expectantly. 
“I think I’m alright.” She didn’t want to risk exposing herself. She wasn’t even sure what was safe to say. These were her childhood friends, but who knew what would happen if she revealed even a fraction of how she really felt. 
“Do you think you’re too good for us?” Zuko questioned, staring down at her. His voice was hard, laced with attitude as it normally was, but he seemed curious. “You spend time with the Avatar and his buddies and now you’re stuck with second rate friends?” 
“I chose to come back,” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes at Zuko. 
“It feels like you picked second best,” Azula said. (Y/N) locked eyes with her from across the fire. “We’re not idiots, we know you enjoyed your time with them. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have abandoned the life you had.” 
“You all seem to forget that the life I had wasn’t the life that I wanted,” (Y/N) said, staring at each of the people that surrounded her. “I was sent away from the only home I had ever known, from the only people that I had ever known, to live in an Earth Kingdom colony. My father thought I was a disappointment and my mother hated everything I did, and the people that I thought cared about me left me behind without a second thought.” She paused, turning to Zuko. “Did any of you even think about me? Even bother to consider how I might have felt? You’re all so concerned with your own lives, you always have been. I was alone. I might have made mistakes, but that’s what happens when you’re desperate for someone to care about you.” 
She firebended into the dying flames, causing them to shoot toward the sky. 
“Why come back then?” Mai asked. 
(Y/N) hesitated for a split second, but it was just long enough for Zuko to notice. “People fighting against the Fire Nation aren’t always eager to have someone from the Fire Nation with them.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to belong somewhere.” 
Ty Lee scrambled over to her, wrapping her arms around (Y/N). “You belong with us!” (Y/N) insisted. “We never wanted to fight you. We would always feel so horrible about it after.” 
(Y/N) gave her a light smile. “I would, too.” She risked casting a glance over at Azula, who refused to meet her eyes. (Y/N) couldn’t tell if she had messed everything up or if she was still in the clear. 
They let the fire die eventually, and one by one, each of the teenagers began returning to the house, until (Y/N) was the last one left. She had moved further down the beach where the tide splashed against the sand. It was a warm summer night on Ember Island, and the water was just right. The only light surrounding her was the light of the full moon, which cast a lovely silver glow on everything. 
“Hi, Yue,” She sighed, splashing her fingers into the water. “I wish there was a way that you could tell me they were okay.” 
She heard shuffling from behind her and turned around, surprised to see Zuko walking toward her. She turned back, facing the water once more. “I’ll be back to the house in a few minutes, I just wanted to sit for a while.” 
He sat in the sand, just a foot away from her. (Y/N) held in her sigh. Zuko was the last person she wanted sitting with her right now. She wanted to hate him for everything that he had done, but then she looked at him and all she wanted to do was talk to him. The inner conflict that he gave her was enough to put her in a sour mood for hours. 
“I didn’t know where you were,” Zuko said quietly. (Y/N) turned to him and furrowed her brows. “No one would tell me.” His eyes met hers. “Or else I would have written.” 
“Oh,” (Y/N) said, feeling her cheeks become hot. “It was years ago. It doesn’t really matter anymore.” 
“If it didn’t matter to you, you wouldn’t have said it.” Sometimes it hit (Y/N) that just as she knew the inner workings of Zuko, her knew her as well. “I meant it, when I said that I thought of you every day.” 
“I meant what I said too,” (Y/N) said quietly. “But things are different now. You’re Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, not Lee from the tea shop.” 
“I’m still who I was in Ba Sing Se.” She shook her head. 
“You think that, but we both know what being back here really means.” Being back in the Fire Nation meant Zuko had reverted back to who he once was, someone eager to please his father, no matter the cost. 
Zuko was quiet, as if he didn’t know what to say. She was surprised with how calm he was being. Perhaps the full moon had an odd effect on everyone. 
“Can I ask you something?” (Y/N) questioned, and Zuko nodded. “Was Azula really the one to kill Aang?” 
He hesitated, but then he nodded. “He was in his Avatar State and she struck him with lightning.” 
(Y/N) pushed back the tears that threatened to spill over. Even with Zuko, she couldn’t truly show herself. “Why’d she tell everyone it was you?” 
“To get me in my father’s good graces.” He scoffed. “To save herself in case it didn’t work.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“When Katara and I were trapped in the caves, she told me that she had water from the Spirit World pool in the Northern Water Tribe.” Zuko shook his head. “I-I don’t know what could have happened, but there’s something telling me that no one really knows what happened to Aang.” 
That gave (Y/N) all the hope that she needed. Aang was safe. He was alright.
“So, if Aang is alive and your father thinks you failed...” She did not want to finish her sentence. She met Zuko’s golden eyes once more. “After everything he’s done, why did you come back?” 
“Same reason as you, I guess. I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere.” 
She had never considered that Zuko had been feeling alone during his time with Iroh. She had been conflicted over her loyalties, but it had only lasted a few moments until she made the choice to join Team Avatar. She was confident that she was doing the right thing, but there was more at stake for Zuko. 
“You didn’t swim today,” he said suddenly. 
(Y/N) shrugged. “I didn’t want anyone to see my arm,” She said simply, but Zuko winced. 
“I...I didn’t know he was going to do that. If I had, I would’ve--” (Y/N) shook her head to stop him. 
“We both know firsthand what he’s capable of. I wouldn’t have wanted you to put yourself in a position like that.” She touched her arm, where beneath the fabric of her sleeve lay the raised marks of the brand that was still healing. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be laughing about it in a few years.” 
Zuko glanced at the water, then back to (Y/N). “Do you want to go swimming?”
(Y/N) opened her mouth to protest, but Zuko didn’t seem to be having it. “You love swimming.” And it was true, she did love to swim. She had spent hours in the water during their trips to this island as children. Her mother had had to practically drag her from the beach. 
(Y/N) stood and removed her top layer of clothes, revealing the bathing suit beneath. Without hesitating, she ran into the warm water, diving beneath the calm waves. When she resurfaced, Zuko was only a few paces away from her, the robe that he had been wearing left in a pile beside her own clothes on the beach. 
“The water’s colder than I remember,” Zuko called out to her, just as she dove beneath the waves once more. 
“It was definitely like this when we were young, we were just stubborn,” (Y/N) laughed. Zuko swam over to her. She stood on her toes as the water came to her shoulders, but it only reached Zuko’s chest. “Your hair is still dry,” She pointed out and Zuko rolled his eyes, plugging his nose and dipping beneath the surface for a few seconds. When he came back up, he was significantly closer to (Y/N) than he had been before. 
“Is that better?” He asked, shaking out his hair so water droplets splashed on her face. She laughed and shoved him backward to get him to stop. 
He staggered backwards and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her under with him. (Y/N) opened her eyes beneath the waves, feeling the familiar stinging sensation that had been a staple of her childhood. Zuko’s eyes were closed as he held his breath. He had never gotten used to opening his eyes underwater, it had seemed. 
(Y/N) pulled them up toward the surface, both inhaling a sharp breath of air. As she went to settle on her feet, she bobbed beneath the waves. They had traveled much farther from the shore than she had expected. 
Zuko reached out for her, wrapping his arm around her middle to keep her above the water. He could still stand, which (Y/N) hated. “The last time we swam here, I was taller than you,” (Y/N) said, staring up at him. He smiled down at her, the corner of his eyes crinkling. The skin of his scar tried to repeat the action of its counterpart, but it couldn’t quite do it. 
(Y/N) couldn’t keep her eyes off of his scar. She knew it wasn’t entirely polite, but she was curious. He had left the Fire Nation before it had healed. When they encountered each other, she was never very close to him. Even at the party, she had only seen it up close for a few seconds. 
“I’ve never seen it this close,” She told him, her voice as soft as the moonlight that surrounded them. Zuko’s cheeks flushed. 
“It’s pretty bad, huh?” His eyes were trained on her, but she wasn’t noticing. She furrowed her brows and shook her head.
“I like it,” She said simply. It was Zuko’s turn to furrow his brows. 
“You can’t be serious.” (Y/N) shrugged, lifting her right hand to touch his cheek like she had wanted to at the party. Zuko stiffened and nearly dropped her into the ocean. Her thumb, light as a feather, traced over the pink and red skin. Some areas felt smooth and silky, while others were rougher. She traced over the brow bone where his eyebrow had once been. 
His eyes fell to her forearm, where his father’s punishment was still healing on her skin. He wrapped his fingers around her arm, lightly tracing the word with his own thumb. 
“For the record,” He said, eyes still focused on her arm. “I don’t think you’re a traitor.” 
A few moments passed before he looked up at her again. Her eyes were soft, sparkling in the reflection of the moonlight that bounced off of the water. The corners of her lips were turned upward in a soft smile. Her hand remained cupping the side of the face and Zuko sighed, leaning into her touch. 
“You’re really beautiful,” She told him, stroking his scar once more. “I don’t think I ever told you that.” Her heart was beating so hard against her chest. This was the stupid power that Zuko had over her. She had been so mad at him just a few hours ago, but if she allowed it, he wormed his way back into her heart. 
Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise at her statement. He parted his lips to say something, but no words would come to mind. She dizzied him, jumbled his thoughts until he was a mess of unspoken words and dumbfounded faces. 
It was slow as it happened, thoughtful. He rested his forehead against hers, their noses just barely touching as he stared at her through half-lidded eyes. He would give her time. If she wanted to pull away, she would. 
She didn’t. Her other hand took its place on his bicep, fingers curling gently into his skin. Her lips parted, her lashes batting upward as she stared into his amber eyes. Zuko was all that she could see and feel. Her heart continued to pound against her chest. If he wanted to do something, he would. 
Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut as he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss. They were softer than he had ever imagined. The little gasp she let out made him pull her closer. He didn’t want any space between them. His hand left its place at her arm and traveled up to where she caressed his cheek, wrapping his fingers around her palm. 
(Y/N’s) eyes had remained open for a split second before she closed them, pressing into Zuko as she kissed back. She was completely thoughtless. Everything else in the world was absent as she melted into him, the hand at his arm moving to the back of his neck to pull him toward her even more. She had thought of this moment many times, but nothing could compare to the warmth that encompassed her heart as she kissed Zuko. 
When they pulled apart for air, it was as if (Y/N) had been pulled back into the real world. She stared at Zuko, her eyes wide as she realized what they had just done. 
“Mai,” They said at the same time, horrified looks reaching both of their faces. (Y/N) hated herself. She had gotten caught up in the moment and taken something that didn’t belong to her. (Y/N) scrambled out of Zuko’s arms. 
“We don’t speak of this ever again,” She told him, her voice stern. Zuko nodded silently. “This was a mistake. That’s all it was.” With that, she dove into the waves, swimming as fast as she could back to the shore. 
---
She avoided Zuko during the rest of their time at Ember Island, and once they had returned to the palace as well. If they ended up in the same corridor, one of them would turn around and walk back from where they had come from. It made (Y/N’s) heart ache, but she knew it was for the best. She felt horrible for doing something like that to Mai. She didn’t know what had become of her, and now she didn’t trust herself to be around Zuko at all. 
So, she focused on her mission. Every little snippet that she heard walking through the hallways would be recorded on a scroll, which would then be kept on her person at all times. She had witnessed on more than one occassion Azula leaving her room and looking particularly pleased with herself. (Y/N) would never leave anything incriminating lying around.
Still, she needed to figure out how to get a message to Sokka. The palace had messenger hawks, but she needed to know where to send one and she had absolutely no idea where her friends were. The Day of the Black Sun was the next day. To (Y/N), it seemed as though her best bet would be to leave the mainland quickly and rendezvous with one of the groups they had recruited for the invasion. If she could steal one of the palace’s boats, she could row herself to one of the islands off the coast and either find someone she knew or find someone who knew how to get a message out. 
Guards were not posted outside of her doors during the day, so (Y/N) made a hasty knapsack from one of her robes and began shoving a few belongings in it. Bread she had sneaked from the kitchens, a piece of parchment and a pen, and a map all fit securely inside. She was packing it once more when her door opened suddenly and she yelped, scrambling to cover her belongings with her bedsheets. 
“I need to tell you something,” Zuko said as he shut the door behind her. (Y/N) felt her face heat up. 
“You can’t be in here!” She hissed, reaching forward to shove Zuko out of her room. The last thing she needed was Azula seeing them alone together. She would undoubtedly tell Mai, which would cause more problems than (Y/N) needed on her last day in the Fire Nation. 
“Just wait a second!” Zuko demanded, keeping his voice low. “I just got out of one of my father’s war meetings. They’re planning to burn down the towns of those who haven’t surrendered yet.” 
(Y/N) halted her movements of trying to get him out of her room. She eyed him warily. “What does that have to do with me?” 
“I know you’ve been working with the Avatar.” (Y/N’s) body stiffened, but she rolled her eyes. 
“This again. Zuko, I already told you--” 
“You don’t have to lie to me anymore. I know that’s the real reason you’re here is to get information for your friends. I can’t let my father or Azula do this. I want to help you.” 
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?”
“I know you wouldn’t come back unless you had a really good reason. As soon as I heard you say that they were suspicious of you, I knew that was a lie. I saw how you guys were with each other. They care about you.” 
(Y/N) swallowed. In a whisper, she said, “I’m leaving tonight. I can tell them about this before--” 
“The invasion,” Zuko finished. “My father and Azula know about that, too.” 
(Y/N) felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Everything that they had been working so hard for would be for nothing. She had to get to her friends and let them know they had been exposed. “I need to leave now.” She moved to go back to her knapsack, but Zuko grabbed her by the arm. 
“They’re suspicious of you, too. If they catch you, it’ll be much worse than a burn.” 
“I can’t just stay here and watch my friends fail!” 
“I have a plan,” Zuko assured her. “You just have to trust me.” 
(Y/N) eyed him. His hand still held her arm. Zuko stared up at her. She had never seen him look so sincere. With a deep breath, she nodded. 
---
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Text
clarity
Word count: 5463
Summary:  Hakoda had been hearing rumors about the Fire Lord's son for years. That doesn't mean he is ready when the truth finally comes to light... especially when the truth only confirms the worst. Companion piece to “out of focus” but can be read separately. 
Warnings: injury/burns, angst, some mentions of trauma and PTSD, canonical child abuse/mutilation, Sokka gets angry protective and yells a little, blink-and-you-miss-it mention of nausea, please let me know if I missed anything. 
A/N: Turns out, I really wanted to explore Hakoda’s POV of the events in “out of focus”. So much so that not only did I write this, but’s longer than the original. Woops. Hope you enjoy it!
Read on AO3.
...
His son is good at many things, Hakoda thinks, but his poker face is not one of them. 
He’d had never been particularly good at it, if Hakoda is being honest. He’d usually been able to tell with one glance when Sokka was at fault for something breaking and would blame Katara, and Kya had been even better at reading the micro-expressions of their son. Sokka is older now—and in more ways that Hakoda is comfortable with, he carries those extra years around like a weight on his shoulders—but he still hasn’t quite mastered the art of subtlety. It was something he’d need to work on if he wanted to be chief of the Southern Water Tribe one day. 
Sokka shifts in his seat across from him, his brows pinched slightly in evident annoyance. Hakoda sees the shared glance between his son and the Fire Lord. Zuko’s mouth twitches in something like amusement. 
“I want immediate release of all war prisoners,” the Earth Kingdom ambassador, Bashi, beside Sokka demands.
Hakoda inclines his head. “I second that. I have men in those prisons that haven’t seen their family in a decade.”
Hakoda couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Two years apart from his children had caused him to feel like he’d already missed out on so much of their lives. The idea of going five times that without any news from the outside… Suffice it to say that Hakoda did not envy those men.
“Of course,” the Fire Lord says, but his voice is nearly swallowed by the loud demand down the table, “Absolutely not!”
The hard glare that Fire Lord Zuko sends down the table at the Fire Nation Admiral makes Hakoda grateful that he is not on the receiving end of it. “Admiral, people who were arrested as prisoners of war have no need to remain so after the war has ended.” Zuko meets Hakoda’s gaze, the heat in his glare lifting at the redirection of attention. “I’ll draft that mandate tonight and will ensure its circulation as soon as possible.”
The Fire Lord—dressed in the traditional royal robes and his hair pulled into a top knot—is a stark contrast to the first time Hakoda had met him back in Boiling Rock. At the time, Zuko had been Fire Nation public enemy number 2 behind Aang. The tattered red tunic of Fire Nation prison uniforms had hung off his thin, borderline-malnourished frame. He looks better now, a little. Zuko is still lean, but not quite as gaunt as he’d looked in the Fire Nation prison. Hakoda’s biggest concern when it came to the Fire Lord’s well-being these days was the dark circles around his eyes that, though he tries to hide it, indicate too many sleepless nights.
“This is an outrage!” The admiral slams his fist against the table, leaping to his feet.
Hakoda feels his jaw clench in frustration. He has little patience for men who try to assert themselves through aggression and yelling rather than calm rationality. Even so, it doesn’t surprise him, exactly. Hakoda had been around long enough to know that Fire Nation men had long been taught there was power through anger, and to wield it as they see fit.
Zuko rises to meet his feet, slowly and deliberately. “Admiral--”
“Where is the justice for the Fire Nation families whose sons and daughters were slaughtered by those criminals?”
Hakoda presses his hands together to keep them from curling into fists. Did the Admiral not realize just how many Fire Nation soldiers walked free after slaughtering  innocent people, let alone soldiers? Even the person who killed Kya--
“Admiral.”
“I remember a time when you cared about Fire Nation soldiers! And it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten, seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you so much as look in the mirror--”
Hakoda frowns. The comment rings vague bells in his head, though he can’t remember why…
“Enough!” Zuko snaps sharply. “You will watch your tongue or you will be escorted out. You approach insubordination.”
“You are a child,” the admiral says, spitting the word child like it disgusts him, “though one that ought to know a thing or two about insubordination, given your father’s attempts to brand you with a permanent reminder of its consequences--”
“Warriors!”
“Then again, he always was twice the leader you never will be. Long live the Phoenix King!” 
Sokka is suddenly on his feet. “Zuko—!”
“Sokka—!”
Hakoda leaps up just as the admiral punches a fireball at the space between his son and the Fire Lord. His heart jumps to his throat, but Zuko is fast. He shoves Sokka’s shoulder down with one hand and dispels the fireball with the other. Hakoda leaps over his chair as he sees the glint of his son’s boomerang hook through the air. 
The admiral’s gaze locks onto him for a moment and Hakoda instinctively ducks, diving underneath a bolt of scorching flames. He feels the ground tremble, hears the roar of dying flames above him. Hakoda risks a glance towards his son just in time to see Zuko step in front of him, bending the burst of flames to split on either side of them, rather than hit Sokka straight on. 
The door ricochets open. Two Kyoshi Warriors spill into the room, and in a flurry of quick strikes, the admiral drops to the floor. Limp.
Bashi unbinds his feet with the bending from earlier—it’s only now that Hakoda realizes that tremble in the ground a moment ago had been earthbending—and the admiral hurls insults at Zuko as he’s dragged unceremoniously through the doors. 
The silence that follows echoes in the room. 
Hakoda takes a quick, calculating sweep of the room. Kovrik, the Northern Water Tribe ambassador, is wide-eyed but appears unharmed. Bashi is panting but standing upright. Sokka is hidden behind Zuko who shifts awkwardly in the silence.
He clears his throat. “Apologies for the, uh, disruption. It won’t happen again.” He looks, for all the world, genuinely apologetic. Embarrassed, even.
Which is foolish, Hakoda thinks. Zuko couldn’t reasonably be expected to have weeded out all of the Ozai sympathizers in a month. Ozai may have been one person but there was an entire ideology and system that allowed his tyranny in the first place. A sixteen-year-old couldn’t be asked to single-handedly dismantle it all, and certainly not so quickly. 
“It’s not your fault, Fire Lord Zuko,” he tells him. 
“I appreciate that, Chief Hakoda,” Zuko says. Behind him, Sokka sucks in a breath through his teeth and Hakoda feels his chest twinge in concern. He had fought in a war long enough to hear the pain laced through the noise. Zuko turns around to look at him, then turns back around sharply to address the room. “We will adjourn the meeting for today. We will reconvene tomorrow.”
Zuko hides it well, Hakoda thinks, but there’s an urgency to his words hidden behind a carefully constructed mask of stoicism that leaves no room for doubt in Hakoda’s mind. Sokka is hurt.
“But Fire Lord Zuko—”
“I think we could all use a breather, Kovrik,” Hakoda jumps in, not eager for another argument to break out. “Coming back tomorrow with a clear head is a good decision.” Besides, the sooner he can clear the room of other people, the sooner he could check on Sokka who Zuko was—almost protectively—keeping from view. 
“Yes,” Kovrick acquiesces, though Hakoda can tell he’s still not pleased. “Yes, I suppose that’s fair.”
Zuko nods his appreciation. Kovrik, Bashi, and the few other dignitaries that had been in the room bustle out the door. Hakoda waits until it’s latched shut behind them before he turns his full attention towards his son. Zuko has already turned his full attention to him, saying something in a low voice. 
Hakoda can sees the clench of his son’s jaw and the slight wince as he places his hand in Zuko’s. Hakoda steps up behind the Fire Lord, peering over his shoulder. His chest tightens a little in sympathy when he sees the blistering, angry red skin on the back of his son’s hand.
“Do you have anything that can help?” he asks of the Fire Lord, frowning. He thinks briefly of calling Kovrik back in before he remembers that the Northern Water Tribe’s men, even when benders, didn’t typically learn its healing abilities. 
“Yes, sir,” Zuko replies, not taking his gaze from Sokka’s hand as if he could heal it by staring at it hard enough. “Though it’s not quite as immediate as waterbending healers. But it should help with the pain and prevent infection. Follow me.”
Hakoda follows as Zuko guides Sokka by the elbow out the door of the meeting room and through a network of hallways. There’s something almost jarring about it to Hakoda. The image of the Fire Lord leading his Water Tribe son through the palace to get him help, rather than as a prisoner, has a part of Hakoda’s mind reeling. Sokka’s blue clothing stands out against the dark reds and blacks that adorn the walls and pillars around them.
How quickly times had changed.
Hakoda thinks back to the conversation in the meeting a few moments ago as he watches the back of Zuko’s head, moving quickly down the corridor with Sokka in tow. Rumors and propaganda about the Fire Nation, and especially about its leader, flew quickly amongst the ranks of soldiers in the war. It had been difficult to know fact from fiction, especially as it related to the royal family. 
A year ago—the memory comes crystal clear to Hakoda now—one of the men on his crew named Horrak had told him what he’d been certain was an exaggerated, hyperbolic story. Something about the Fire Lord and his thirteen-year-old son. On Tui and La, I swear it’s true. Heard it from the mouth of a Fire Nation soldier myself who was actually there.
He’s a tyrant and cruel, Hakoda had said, rolling his eyes because the idea was just… incomprehensible, but there’s no way Ozai would do that to his own flesh and blood. He’s too proud of his bloodline anyway. 
Zuko glances over his shoulder at Sokka, and Hakoda sees the angry scar across half of his face. The words of the admiral in the meeting whisper in the back of Hakoda’s mind in a way that makes his stomach turn. Your father’s attempts to brand you… Hakoda had thought that surely, surely, even Ozai had a line in the sand when it came to his own family. 
He’s less confident of that now.
Zuko says something to two of the guards stationed at the set of double doors that Hakoda doesn’t quite catch, and then slips through the door. Hakoda follows close behind. 
“Wait here,” Zuko says, and then vanishes through a door on the far side of the room.
Hakoda glances around the room. It was a bedroom, but Hakoda had a hard time believing it was Zuko’s. It seemed too simple of a room to belong to the Fire Lord. Then again, Zuko had been full of surprises from the very first time Hakoda had met him. 
He looks to his son, noticing the tight grimace to his face and the very slight sway and grabs the chair beside the bed to get his son to sit before he falls face first into the floor. 
“You had good reflexes in there,” Hakoda says. He’d dealt enough with injured Water Tribesmen to know that distraction was usually the best way to help them deal with the pain of a burn. He had no doubt that his son was no exception to that. 
“Lots of practice,” Sokka replies, obediently taking a seat. He hisses out another breath as his grip around the arms of the chair stretches the skin across the back of his hand. He swears under his breath.
“Easy,” Hakoda says softly, bracing a hand on his son’s back. 
The comment from his son makes his chest twist, but he can’t very well deny it. His son had seen more combat in the past year than he’d hoped he’d have to in his lifetime. Hakoda knows that it was an unreasonable expectation for his son to somehow be the exception to generations of pain. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Sokka would be able to handle the fight—Sokka always been able to hold his own—but could you blame a father for wanting to spare his son the experience of waking up from nightmares, haunted by the people he couldn’t save?
Hakoda dealt with that enough for the both of them.
“Wish Katara was here,” Sokka says. 
“I know,” Hakoda tells him. “Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s coming to Caldera for a while. She’s still in Ba Sing Se with Aang.” She and Aang were working on their own negotiations of reparations and treatises. Caldera was only one location of many that were in the middle of such conversations.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sokka sighs. “Her magic water comes in handy, though… Get it? Hand-y?”
Hakoda snorts. That’s the kind of joke he used to make to get Kya to smile.
The door across the room opens again. Zuko emerges with his arms wrapped around a giant tub of water, several vials and rags gripped in his hands. He’d also pulled his hair out of the top knot so that it falls into his face, shaggy and unbrushed. It makes him look younger somehow. 
Spirits, he really is only sixteen, isn’t he?
The Fire Lord seems to be studiously avoiding both his and his son’s gaze as he crosses back to him and sets the washbasin at Sokka’s feet. The realization twists uncomfortably in Hakoda’s stomach. 
“Can I see your hand?” Zuko says in what is perhaps the softest voice Hakoda has ever heard come from the teen’s mouth. 
Sokka blinks. “Yeah. Sure.” 
Hakoda crosses his arms over his chest and watches as Zuko examines his son’s hand. The Fire Lord handles it with care, mindful of the injury even as he inspects closely. His brow is furrowed in concentration and there’s a long beat of silence. Sokka is almost uncharacteristically quiet, but Hakoda doesn’t miss the very slight way his shoulders seem to ease. There’s a familiarity between them, Hakoda realizes, and it makes him wonder in the back of his mind if maybe this wasn’t the first time they helped each other. 
“I don’t think it’ll have permanent damage,” Zuko says eventually. “But I still need to treat it so it doesn’t get infected. It… might hurt a little. But then it should feel better.”
Hakoda sees his son swallow. “No permanent damage. That’s good.” He nods, evidently steeling himself. “Okay.”
Zuko looks for a moment like he’s about to say something else, but seems to change his mind. Instead, he busies himself with wringing a cloth in the basin of water, into which he had emptied the contents of the vials. Hakoda’s gaze flickers again to the scar on his face and wonders if he might be so intimately familiar with the care of burns from his own experience. 
Hakoda wonders if there was someone else to help him and teach him. Perhaps that uncle that he and Sokka had mentioned. Iroh, Hakoda thinks his name is, though that would mean the uncle was General Iroh, as in the Dragon of the West. That seemed unlikely to the chief. No way this “wise old guy” who apparently spent his free time giving advice and making tea was also the same person who laid siege to Ba Sing Se for six-hundred days.
He watches Zuko press the rag gingerly to the back of Sokka’s hand and Sokka yelps, yanking his hand back. 
“I’m sorry,” Zuko says immediately with a bit of a grimace. “This part is painful, but it’ll stop hurting in a minute.”
Hakoda listens to the strained breathing of his son, taking a step towards him before Sokka manages, “Right. Right, sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” Zuko tells him. “I know it hurts.”
Hakoda watches from behind Sokka as his son places his hand back in Zuko’s, who slowly but gingerly presses the rag back to his hand. There’s a casual intimacy to the way that Sokka willingly gives over his injury to the Fire Lord. An assured immediacy to Sokka’s movement combined with the extraordinarily careful way in which Zuko handles it that surprises him. He’d known, intellectually, that his children had become close with the Fire Lord. But the moments in which Hakoda got to be witness to that friendship sometimes still caught him off guard, even all these months later. 
It even folded into the way they fought beside each other. Hakoda had gotten very fleeting glimpses of it back in Boiling Rock, but he’d seen it more clearly in the meeting room a few minutes ago. They watched each other’s back, protecting one another without getting in each other’s way, like it was a rehearsed dance. Hakoda had watched the way Zuko stepped in front of flames to protect his son and had seen the way Sokka had timed his boomerang through to ensure the next fireball directed at Zuko would be kicked wide. 
For a long moment, the only sound heard in the room is the quiet splash of water as Zuko submerges the rag again and wrings it out. Hakoda glances at the Fire Lord’s face and wonders if Zuko had always had a habit of facing flames head-on. 
“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out suddenly, breaking the silence, “when he talked about insubordination?”
Hakoda’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze flickering briefly to his son before flitting back to Zuko. Zuko’s eyes had gone wide, the rag in his hand frozen half-out of the bowl. He blinks. “What--uh. I, uh.” Hakoda sees his hand clench around the rag and the way he takes a careful, intentional breath. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”
Zuko busies himself back to tending to Sokka’s hand. Hakoda, however, feels something sink like an anchor in his stomach. He goes very, very still.
“After the stuff at Ba Sing Se? When you went home?” Sokka asks, and Hakoda realizes that he hasn’t heard the same rumors he had. Rumors that were at least a little bit true, but surely not all of it. Surely--
“No, I uh.” Zuko coughs a bit. “Before that. Before… yeah. Earlier.” 
“What happened?”
Hakoda stays quiet but he keeps his eyes on Zuko, who looks for all the world like a wild snow leopard caribou that had been cornered. His shoulders tense and Hakoda wonders, very briefly, if he might make a run for it. His jaw clenches, and he shifts to the balls of his feet.
Zuko doesn’t run.
Instead, he seems to focus even more on the administrations he’s giving to Sokka’s injury, as if healing something else might be able to protect him from his own old wounds coming under scrutiny.
“My uncle allowed me to attend a war meeting,” Zuko begins after a long beat as he wraps a fresh bandage around Sokka’s hand, “where they were talking about some battle strategies to use against an Earth Kingdom battalion. There was a general that wanted our newest fleet to serve as a distraction while we mounted an attack from the rear.”
Hakoda feels for a moment like he’s standing on cracking ice. He heard about that attack. The few members of that battalion spoke of how victorious they’d felt, decimating an entire fleet of rookie Fire Nation soldiers only to be attacked from the rear. Hakoda had spoken two years ago with one of the Earth Kingdom soldiers that had escaped, had listened as she recounted the bloodbath it had been. 
They must have known, she’d been saying with a haunted, far-away look to her eyes, that we’d win against a bunch of newbie soldiers. It was like they were served up as goat-dogs for slaughter. Just a… distraction. Ozai doesn’t even care about his own people. 
That conversation had been two years ago. Which meant—
“That’s not fair,” Sokka says. “Your newest recruits? They’d be slaughtered by an experienced battalion like that.” Hakoda feels a brief flicker of pride through the growing tightness in his chest. His son is far smarter than he gave himself credit for. 
“Exactly,” Zuko sighs, bitterness dripping from his voice like venom. “And that’s what I told them. I wasn’t thinking. I just… yelled at him.” Zuko secures the end of the bandage to Sokka’s palm slowly, as if reluctant to be done with the process. “My father didn’t… take it well. I was challenged to an Agni Kai, and I thought I would be facing the general in it, so I accepted.”
The steadily growing tightness in Hakoda’s chest snaps around his lungs like a steel band. So even the worst rumors—the ones he’d been certain couldn’t possibly be true, not about that, not even Ozai—had been true. And it was all because he tried to save people’s lives. 
Hakoda does not have a weak stomach, but it rolls with the lead weight of realization. 
Zuko still doesn’t look at either one of them. Unable to keep his attention on helping Sokka’s injury, he turns his attention instead to gathering the basin of water and the empty vials and used rags. Something to keep his hands—his attention—busy. Hakoda had seen some of the men he fought with do the same thing when talking about stories they mostly tried to forget. 
“No…” Sokka says in a low voice, and Hakoda knows from the horror in his voice that his son is starting to put the pieces together too.
“It wasn’t the general,” Zuko confirms, his voice quiet and heavy in the silence around them. “It was my father.”
“You faced your father in an Agni Kai?” Sokka asks.
“Not exactly. I…” Zuko stares down at the bowl, his gold gaze looking a thousand miles away. “I couldn’t fight my own father. Instead, I begged him for forgiveness. I was met with a fist full of flames.” Zuko waves a hand towards his face. 
I begged him for forgiveness. 
Hakoda thinks of the version Horrack had told him. I heard the kid was kneeling in front of him when it happened—
“He--” Sokka also sounds at a loss of words, his voice choking off. 
“I was banished after that,” Zuko continues and his voice is hollow in a way that ricochets like shrapnel. Hakoda watches him meet his son’s gaze. “I was told to bring the Avatar back and all would be forgiven, or to not come back at all. That was before you and your sister woke Aang up from the iceberg.”
He hears what Zuko won’t say.  It was before there’d been confirmation that the Avatar was still around at all. He’d been banished from his home and told to chase a ghost. It was an impossible task. Ozai didn’t want his son to come home at all, Hakoda realizes. And from the tight way Zuko swallows, he’s pretty sure Zuko knows it too. 
Hakoda clenches his grip into a fist to mask the tremble to his hands. Zuko had done the right thing at that meeting—had tried to spare lives—and had still asked for forgiveness. Begged for it. And Ozai had lit his hand on fire and… and… painfully mutilated his own son and then kicked him out, telling him to chase a legend. In some ways, Hakoda thinks, it was crueler than telling him not to come back at all. 
Zuko is sixteen. But he is still a child, though saddled with the weight of righting a century of conflict on his back. And Hakoda knows that the Agni Kai had been three years ago. 
“How old were you?” Sokka asks tightly. 
Spirits above, he was only—
“Thirteen,” Zuko says, and Hakoda sighs, shutting his eyes against the confirmation. 
“Thir--” Sokka cuts himself off, his voice strained. “Thirteen. Tui and La, when I was thirteen--” he breaks off again.
Hakoda knows what Sokka is thinking about. Sokka was thirteen when he’d left to join the war effort. He’d tried so hard to keep Sokka as safe as he could. Protect his childhood from being stolen more than the war and the loss of his mother already had. He’d seen the stubborn set to Sokka’s jaw when he’d chased after him onto the ship gangplank, and Hakoda knew that Sokka was just as protective as he was. He’d asked him to look out for the village, for Katara. 
Hakoda would have done anything in the world to keep Sokka safe. He still felt that way, despite all the ways that Sokka had proven he could hold his own. He couldn’t help it. He wouldn’t want to. Sokka was his boy. Not so little anymore, not so innocent. He’d seen and been through too much, and Hakoda had missed most of it. But he’d tried. He’d tried to keep him safe for as long as he could manage. 
At thirteen, Zuko had been hurt by a person he’d loved and then thrown out into the world with barely a second thought. The Fire Nation had robbed him, too, of so much. Too much. 
Sokka takes a sudden step towards him and Zuko visibly tenses as if expecting a blow. Sokka freezes in place. “Zuko…”
Zuko shakes his head quickly, and there’s a small part of Hakoda that uncoils when he sees the way Zuko’s gaze doesn’t look quite so distant anymore. “Anyway. That’s--that’s what the admiral was talking about.”
“You…” Sokka sounds close to tears. “You were his kid.”
“Yeah, well.” Zuko looks at Sokka again. “He spent most of my life wishing I wasn’t.”
Hakoda’s jaw tenses. He looks at Zuko who looks, for all the world, like a sixteen-year-old kid, with his shaggy hair falling into his face and in Fire Lord clothes that are maybe just a touch too big for him. At thirteen—barely a teenager—he’d spoken up out of an intense desire to keep more people safe. To save lives. In Hakoda’s eyes, Zuko was a hero. Just for that. 
How anyone could look at him and not be proud was far beyond Hakoda. 
“Zuko,” he says, and Zuko’s gaze flashes over to him almost like he’d forgotten Hakoda was there in the first place. “I… hope you understand that you didn’t deserve that.” 
The words fall short of what he wants to say, of what he means. But they feel important to him. Zuko deserved better from his nation and especially from his own father. Hakoda doesn’t know very much about the former royal family, but he doesn’t get the impression that Zuko heard that a lot. And if nobody else was going to make sure Zuko knows that he deserves better, Hakoda will at least try. 
Something softens a little in Zuko’s gaze. “I know, sir,” he says. “It… I didn’t at first. It took me a long time to understand that it was wrong of my father to do that. But I know that now.”
Hakoda inclines his head. It is a small mercy against the tremendous pain the kid carries on his back, but it’s something. And as far as Hakoda is concerned, it’s not a small thing, either.
“Where is he?” Sokka demands in a near growl.
Zuko blinks, looking far more surprised by Sokka’s outrage than Hakoda is. “Where’s who?”
“Ozai.”
“Sokka, what are you going to do? Fight him?” Zuko looks completely bewildered. “He already lost.”
“Against Aang, not against—did Aang even know?”
“Um, I guess I don’t know. I never told him. I… never told any of you.”
“Yeah--and what’s that about, huh?” Sokka takes a step forward. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Hakoda takes a step towards his son. “Sokka,” he warns. 
He wants to explain to him that sometimes things are hard to talk about. Spirits know there were things Hakoda had seen in his days involved in the war that he didn’t want to talk about and hoped he never would have to. He wanted to explain that events like that, things that linger on the edges of your nightmares and follow in lock-step with your shadow, had a nasty habit of strangling in your throat so that the words don’t come. That it is easier to carry those things close to your chest rather than lay them bare for the world to see. 
But Sokka is fuming and cuts his father off. “What, did you think we wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t matter?”
“It doesn’t matter!” Zuko hurls back at him, waving a hand towards the bedroom window. “My father already lost to the Avatar, Sokka. The war is over. The fighting is over. Aang took his bending. And that—I don’t know about you, but that’s the best, most justified end to his legacy I can think of.” 
There’s a long, heavy moment of silence. Hakoda watches the way his son’s shoulders heave with angry breaths, his non-injured hand curled into a fist. Sokka had always been fiercely, desperately protective. It runs in the family, Hakoda thinks idly. But this wasn’t something Sokka could protect Zuko from. The damage had already been done. 
Hakoda thinks, perhaps, that such a truth only makes it harder for his son to deal with. 
“Wherever he is,” Sokka growls, “I hope he rots. He deserves worse.” 
Zuko blinks, his eyes wide. Hakoda wonders briefly if Zuko has ever had someone be angry on his behalf, rather than angry with him. 
Sokka evidently doesn’t understand his surprise. “Don’t tell me you disagree—”
“No,” Zuko says quickly. “I just… nothing.” He offers the barest hint of a smile at Sokka. The reminder of the familiarity between them relaxes some of the tightness in Hakoda’s chest just a fraction. 
There’s a long beat as Hakoda hears his son suck in a deep, slow breath. Zuko’s gaze falls from Sokka’s, drifting back to the basin of water beside him. Zuko’s fingers twitch at his side. He looks suddenly uncomfortable, Hakoda thinks. Nervous, almost. 
“Thank you for helping Sokka’s hand, Firelord Zuko,” Hakoda says suddenly, and maybe it’s a foolish way to convey to him that this didn’t change their opinion of him. At least, not for Hakoda… and from his surge of protective anger, he’s pretty sure the same goes for his son. Zuko was still Zuko. And if maybe he made sure to call him Fire Lord as a quiet reminder that Hakoda did not think him less of a leader either, then maybe that was okay too.
Hakoda sees the slightly pink tinge to Zuko’s cheeks as he meets Hakoda’s gaze. But he reads the understanding in those gold eyes as well. “Oh. Uh, of course, sir. And… just Zuko is fine.” Thank you, is the unspoken words that flit across the teen’s gold eyes.
Hakoda smiles a little, inclining his head. “Understood.” He turns his attention then to his son. ”I should draft a letter to Bato tonight to update him on the treaty. Will you be okay without me?”
Sokka rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth is tilted up in a half-smile. “Yeah, dad. I think I can manage.”
Hakoda gives Sokka’s shoulder one last squeeze and a nod to Zuko before he ducks out of the room to give them both a moment to talk more. He closes the door behind him, pausing long enough to take a breath. 
Generations of conflict had been ended a few months ago by a bunch of kids with too much weight on their shoulders and too many shadows clinging to their edges. But at their heart, they were good people trying to do good things. Spirits know they all had plenty of reasons to be otherwise. War had a nasty habit of bringing out the worst in people, of demanding sacrifices to who you are. It could latch onto the darkest parts of you and pull until it was all that remained. He’s grateful that the group of kids that ended the Hundred Year War managed to keep the best of themselves despite everything, and that they continued to do so.
Hakoda had learned a long time ago that goodness is a choice. And he’s grateful that the world was in the hands of people like his kids, like Aang, like Zuko. Kids who, despite everything and all the ways people tried to pull their darkness out of them, continued to make that choice.
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sokkas-honour · 4 years
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number 16 w zuzu??
detention - zuko x reader
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pairing: zuko x reader
wc: 1.5k with lyrics
notes/warnings: this takes place with s1 zuko so it won’t be too happy. also the relationship isn’t exactly healthy because the song just doesn’t give me space for that. i also switch between talking about zuko and y/n so be warned.
somewhat of a part two
atla taglist: @missmorosis @draqondance @biqherosix
im not a bad guy, so don't treat me bad if im feeling sad, alright?
“y/n!” the banished prince yelled as he violently slammed your door open in the early hours of the morning. you groaned and turned in your bed so your back was facing him, you didn’t want to deal with zuko right now.
“y/n, you’re late. you’re late by thirty minutes.” he stated rather harshly and crossed his arms as he stood his ground by your door, observing you trying to pretend not to hear him.
annoyed, he started to make his way towards you to rip the covers off of your body stopped when he saw the tears stains on your cheek. his hands froze right above the cover, unsure what to do.
you could feel his presence so you reluctantly pushed the covers off of you, causing the ex prince to move back in order not to be slapped by it. you turned to face him and saw the slightest bit of concern etched into his face, you rose your eyebrow in confusion.
“why are you looking at me as if i’ve just come back from the worst fight of my life.” you questioned, your morning voice coming out as slightly raspy, though not as much as zuko’s. you were one of the only people that could talk to zuko however you wanted.
the firelord had ordered you about two years ago to serve as some sort of bodyguard to the banished prince. you had been ripped away from your people and family at a young age, one of the last waterbenders of the southern water tribe. he had decided to spare your life and in turn, you had to serve the young fire nation royalty. between the two siblings, zuko was the kindest to you and often offered to spar with you meaning your water bending contained many firenation forms.
when he’d been burned by his father and sent to find the avatar, you had been assigned to only him. you served as some sort of normality to the young firebender, a way to try and keep him sane. zuko respected you and treated you as a friend but his constant mood swings around you made him extremely unpredictable. nonetheless, he was the only friend you’d ever known and cared immensely for him.
“were you crying?” he spoke up after a short silence had fallen in between the both of you.
“no, why?”
“then why are there tear stains on your cheeks.” he persisted, using his voice that he usually reserved for the guards when they annoyed him.
you sighed, you had forgotten how you’d felt down last night and your mind immediately went to your parents. you still had memories of them but as you grew, they slowly faded more and more which terrified you. the whole fiasco making you fall asleep crying long after midnight.
“forget it, it’s not important. i was just feeling down.” you confessed, sitting up in your bed.
“good because you’re getting extra cleaning duties for missing our sparring station.” any ounce of friendliness that he’d shown a minute ago vanished and you were left with the zuko that the entire crew knew, the angsty, ungrateful and hot headed prince.
please don't be mad if i don't smile back, alright? if i fuck up my words, don't think im absurd, alright?
he left your room and made his way towards the front of the boat, leaving you dumbfounded and confused to his 180 towards you.
zuko never knew how to express his emotion to begin with but when it came to you, he was clueless on how to act. you made him feel things that he wasn’t use to, you constantly tried to make him feel loved, something that he’d only received from his mother and it confused him. he hated that he’d caught feelings for his friend and the only way he knew how to act was aggressiveness. so, whenever you showed respect he gave it to you back but whenever you showed him affection, you only received aggressiveness.
he was always terrified of you waking one day and deciding to be furious at his lack of emotional connection with you, and you had every right to do that, frankly he was surprised you still hadn’t cracked. every morning, you’d greet him with the biggest smile on the deck of the boat to start your sparring session, and practically every morning, you were met with a grumble and an emotionless face.
he truly had no idea how to deal with your kindness and patience, he knew that if he was in your place, he would’ve yelled at himself much earlier. zuko just didn’t deserve you for the way he treated you, and he completely knew that but a part of him tried his hardest to show some sort of emotion when it was just the two of you.
those moments were limited but, on those occasions, you’d watch him try and put his feelings into word, he always failed miserably which always earned him an encouraging smile from you.
alright? im physically exhausted
you dragged yourself out of bed, that wasn’t the first night you’d cried yourself to sleep. being stuck with zuko was fine to extent, you constantly tried to show him only kindness, hoping that one day he’d give it back you all the time and not just on isolated occasions.
the constant kindness on top of your recent longing for your parents and your people completely drained you for any energy.
you sighed and went to close the door as soon as zuko left and got ready for the day, throwing on a random red tunic. you took a quick look in your mirror to make sure you didn’t look like a complete mess and you completely saw why zuko’s intial reaction to seeing you was concern, you looked terrible. your hair was dishevelled, your cheeks were red and had a faint tear trail, your eyes were puffy and your eye bags were prominent, meaning anyone could see your lack of sleep in the last couple of days.
the lack of care definitely told you how tired you were but your treasured the fact that you weren’t on zuko’s bad side, you loved your moments together when he’d open up. you knew that if you didn’t follow his orders, which he frankly didn’t give you often, you could easily loose anything you’d built up.
tired of my knuckles beating, im chewing gum to pass this time of sadness
you sat down with the rest of the guards and munched down on your breakfast of rice. munched down is an exaggeration, you simply picked at it. none of them questioned it, you weren’t close to any of them and they simply thought you were brave and foolish to befriend the prince, to deal with his obnoxious behaviour. they were right in their own way.
cant you see it? you're too busy seeking selfish wishes, don't care how im feeling
at the end of the day that’d you spent practically by yourself, you knocked on zuko’s chamber, hoping you could talk to him. he’d built his own habit of coming to yours whenever he’d have a problem or something that troubled him so you assumed you had the right to do the same.
“who is it?” his harsh raspy voice practically yelled from behind the door.
“it’s y/n.” you heard footsteps on the other side approaching the door and he opened it. you smiled slightly as you saw the book that was abandonned on his bed.
“i was wondering if i could talk to you?” you sheepishly asked, raising your hand to scratch the back of your neck. he responded with a nod and moved out of the way so that you could step in. you made your way to his bed and sat on his, waiting for him to join you.
he made his way next you and looked at you expectingly, waiting for you to start telling him what was on your mind.
“i guess you deserve an explanation as to why i’ve been like this in the last couple of days.” you started but he soon interrupted you.
“it’s fine. you can resume aiding me in catching the avatar tomorrow, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” his interruption shocked you, it was just, completely out of place and downright rude.
“you know what zuko.” your usually kind gaze turned harsh as you stood up. “you’re so fucking selfish, i’ve let you come to me whenever you want to tell me about your problems. god forbid you do the same. you could care less about how i’m feeling! you’re so blind and oblivious to how much that hurts! it hurts to care about someone who doesn’t even seem to give an ounce of care about how you feel!”
your voice had risen to the point that the guards outside of his room probably heard you accuse him. annoyed by his selfish actions that hurt you more than you’d care to say, you quickly left his chamber wanting to be alone.
zuko looked at you leave and cursed himself, you were the kindest person and he’d probably hurt you more than he could fathom. god was he stupid.
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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years
Text
Fading Falsehoods (Part 25)
She shouldn’t be afraid to put on her armor. It’s just armor. The same armor as she has been wearing for much of her life. And yet…
Azula holds it to her chest, the metal cool under her palms. It seems like it has been ages since she has worn it. She supposes that it has been, she doesn’t exactly consider that last attempt to put it on to be wearing it. 
She doesn’t consider that attempt and yet it is all she can think of as she stands in front of the mirror. She doesn’t know what she will do if she puts it on only to find that she can’t keep it on. 
She beckons Suki in to help her fasten it in place. Time drags as her fingers work with the clasps and ties. And finally she takes a step back. “Well?” 
“Can you tie it any tighter?” Azula grits her teeth.
“Maybe a little.” And her fingers work to untie and then retie the knots. She steps back once more. “That any better?”
“I-it’s loose.”
Suki frowns. 
“But it’s wearable.” She gives a frown of her own, “right?”
“You tell me.” Suki shrugs. “You said that you wanted to make this decision, so make it. Do you think that you can fight in it.”
Azula nods. “I think…yes it will be fine. I hope that it will be.” She sighs. It still doesn’t feel quite right. It feels too heavy for her. A lot of things feel too heavy for her right now.
To her surprise Suki smiles, she places a hand between her shoulder blades. “Well now that you’ve decided, I should tell you that I agree. I think that it fits well enough.” She pats her back and wanders over to the rest of the group, leaving Azula to her private fluster. 
.oOo.
“How did it go?” Katara asks. 
“As good as it could have.” 
“Which means?” Sokka props himself up against the wall. 
“The armor is still kind of lose on her but she’s able to wear it.”
Aang spares the princess a glance. “But do you think that it’s actually safe for her to start fighting spirits?” 
“Aang, I don’t know. It’s really hard to say. She says that she’s fine and that she can do it, but I’m not sure. I don’t think that she is either. Or maybe she really does think that she’s set to go when she isn’t…” Suki trails off. “I guess based on what I’ve seen, she looks a lot better than before. She’s not at her best but I think that she’ll be able to manage as long as we give her time to rest and don’t push her.” 
Their agreeing nods do nothing to reassure her of her own words. She isn’t even sure why they have put it on her to assess Azula’s physical state. The woman in question wanders out of her room. “Still feeling up to this?” Suki asks. 
“Ready enough, I suppose.”
.oOo.
Zuko has to admit that he is surprised to be trekking about the swamp again so soon. And yet it wasn’t soon enough. The bugs had been pesterful the first time around. This time there are insect sized spirits to add to the irksomeness. And for once he doesn’t seem to be alone in his discomfort. Sokka and Suki are flailing their hands and swatting like crazy. Katara’s nose seems to twitch every time a bug or spirit lands upon her exposed skin. And Azula is agitated enough to let it show on her face. Mai is the only one who remains deadpan, but he has since come to know that the blanker her expression, the more effort she has to exert into keeping it that way. Only Aang doesn’t seem to have a problem–something something about all life being sacred and precious. Right now Zuko is in no mood for Air Nomad sentiments. 
On top of the bugs he is anxious, more so than he has been in a while. He doesn’t think they have been keeping an adequate eye on Azula. Now that she isn’t skin and bones or aches and pains, she is a threat. She can just as easily turn her fire on them as she can any one of the spirits. 
“How you doin’ back there?” Sokka asks. 
“My skin is twitching.” Zuko grumbles. 
“Yours and everyone else’s.” Mai grumbles. “Ugg, I think that I’d rather deal with the large spirits than these ones.” 
“Don’t worry, we will.” He replies. He thinks of Dorotoko and suddenly he isn’t so sure that he agrees. He still doesn’t know what the spirit has done to him. Maybe it hasn’t done anything ata all, maybe he is just imagining it. 
And yet…
He sighs, wishing that he could muster his optimism up. Or his motivation. Lately, stopping these spirits hasn’t been the rush and excitement that he has been hoping for. It feels hopeless. It feels like a dead end.
.oOo.
They ask her to help set up camp but she doesn’t see the point. “We’re on the same side now” rings so empty in her ears. She might help Mai set a few things up, but she isn’t particularly enthralled by the idea of arranging her own camping situation for the night. She doesn’t think that a sleeping back will make the swamp floor any more comfortable. 
At any rate, she is tired; hours of walking leave her calves burning and her feet sore. Frankly, she is once again sore all over. At least this time her soreness might have some perks. Perhaps she only needs to get used to traveling long distances again. 
With any luck her travels will get easier as her body grows accustomed to them. She thinks that she could use the hands on exercise. 
But that doesn’t mean that she has to appreciate the sensations now. They, in fact, leave her feeling quite cranky. Tent be damned, she’ll sleep under the stars with her inadequate sleeping bag and a pillow that isn’t nearly fluffy enough. 
“Here.”
Azula furrows her brows, “what’s this?”
“Snack bar.” Suki replies. “Homemade with honey, nuts, and berries. The girls and I would always make them the night before we knew we’d be embarking on a long mission.”
Azula accepts her offer if only to get her to go away sooner. She supposes that she should have expected the woman to take it as an invitation to strike up a conversation.  “You did good today.”
“I’m not some pet. Treats and praises aren’t going to…”
“This isn’t a treat, it’s food. You know, the stuff that keeps you alive and gives you energy.” 
“I know what food is. And you can’t use it to bribe me.”
“This isn’t a bribe it’s a basic need. So come join us by the fire and you can have some of the turkey-duck that we hunted earlier.” 
“I’m partially interested in campfire conversations.” Sometimes she wishes that she could just keep her mouth shut. She wishes that she could remember to do so. 
“Partially interested?” Suki laughs. “That’s a pretty bizarre way of saying that you want company.” 
“You should be thankful that she said it at all.” Mai shrugs. “Sit next to me?”
Reluctantly, Azula makes herself as comfortable as the swamp floor will allow–which is to say not at all. Not when her pants are soaked through with mud and swamp water. She thinks that her armor is only trapping it in place. She thinks that she will skip wearing it tomorrow. But what will look like? They’ll think that she can’t handle it.
She sighs. 
“You’re thinking again.” Mai comments. 
“If everyone did that we might make some real progress.” Azula grumbles. “You know, instead of just wandering aimlessly around the swamp, hoping to run into some spirits. Do we even have a plan?”
“We totally have a plan.” Sokka replies. 
“A good one or is it as flimsy as your tent? We need a solid plan; where exactly are we going, what exactly will we be facing?”
“Well, we don’t know.” Aang confesses. “The spirits are kind of a grab bag, you don’t know what you’re going to get.”
“You don’t know what you’re going to get. I’m going to find out.”
“How are you going to do that?” Suki asks. 
Azula rolls her eyes. “Are the Kyoshi Warriors actually warriors? Most warriors have scouts.”
“Well we don’t exactly have an army, Azula.” Katara points out. “It’s just the seven of us.”
“Yes, exactly. That makes three people for scouting and four to keep a lookout over our base. Or four to scout and three to keep lookout.” She frowns. “You should have brought Toph.”
“For what?” Sokka asks. 
“Even team division and a needed skill set. She’d be the best person to detect our targets. Though I suppose spirits aren’t known to make vibrations. TyLee…” she clears her throat. “TyLee would have been a fine choice for that, she always…” She takes a bite of Suki’s snack bar and resentfully decides that the taste is not abysmal. “Nevermind, they aren’t here we need to work with what we have.”
“And we have you.” Mai replies. “You have an eye for detail so me, you, and Suki should do the scouting.”
“I should be standing guard!” She says almost automatically. She takes another bite. Realistically speaking, Mai is right–she isn’t their best fighter anymore. She isn’t even in the top five. Aang and Katara are certainly the best candidates. But Suki as well. “I suppose that I do have an eye for detail.”
“And you’re really good at tracking things.” Sokka puts in through a mouthful of turkey-duck. “I lost so much sleep because of you, you know?” 
“Good.” Azula crosses her arms. “Yes, I’ll go do the scouting, apparently I’m the only person here who even knows what that is. I hadn’t realized that the Kyoshi Warriors just go in blind. It explains a lot.” 
“So I take it that I’m going to be guarding our base.” Suki quirks a brow. 
“You’re going to come with me and learn what scouting is. Agni, you should already know if you’re leading a group of warriors.” She shakes her head. “And Mai is coming along because…” well mostly it is because she trusts Mai, “the two of us know how to fight side by side. We’re an effective team.” 
“You want to drive a bigger wedge between Mai and I.” Zuko scowls. “I was hoping to actually talk to my girlfriend and endure this thing together.”
Azula rolls her eyes. “Please, Zuko. This isn’t about you. It’s about strategy, and this is the best one. Mai and I work well together. Suki is an annoyance but she strikes me as the type of person who can scout well. Katara is a skilled bender and Sokka knows his way around weapons. They are close, naturally.  Aang is our strongest fighter and airbenders are…were known for being good defenders. Not good enough, of course, but you get my point.”
“What’s wrong with you, Azula!?” He throws his hands up.
“Currently or in general?” 
“Why can’t you just say…anything without…ugg! Why would you bring up the Air Nomad thing?” 
“Zuko, it’s fine.” Aang says quietly.
“Fine!? She’s talking about genocide the same way she talks about…”
“Zuko, it’s not a big deal…”
“How you left me to wither away in an institution?” She quirks a brow. “Tragic. It happened, we have a mission to focus on.” At least she can still be sarcastic, she supposes that she should take small blessings where they come. 
The silence that follows said remark isn’t such a blessing. It is a thick sort of quiet, charged with unease and tension. 
“So is everyone able to stick with this plan. Myself, Mai, and Suki will track the spirits, observe for a little bit, and see what we’re up against while the rest of you make sure that our campsite remains unscathed?”
“Yeah, Azula, that sounds like a plan.” Mai agrees. 
She looks around the campfire. 
“It’s a plan.” Suki nods. 
“Yeah, I guess.” Says Sokka. And then the rest of them. 
All but Zuko. 
Zuko’s opinion isn’t important. 
“Great.” Azula replies. “Don’t mess this one up for us, Zuko.
“You’re really good at that.” Zuko grumbles. 
“And you always want to be better than me at everything. Congratulations, you’re better at that.”
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just-jordie-things · 4 years
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#30 from the prompt list for zuko?
Prompt 30: a kiss under a full moon ___
She’s perfect.
Zuko had known (y/n) for almost a month now.  And he could confidently say that she was the only member of the Avatar’s little group who truly accepted him that day in the Western Air Temple.
Although a few weeks had passed, and his relationship with the others had definitely improved, it wasn’t the same.
Aang joked around with him, Sokka and Suki seemed to trust him in battle, Toph treated him the way she treated everyone- with awkward teasing and cruel jokes- Katara still refused to show Zuko any sort of warmth, and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
But (y/n) was different.
He supposed it was because she was nothing like the others to begin with, which he quickly learned.  She wawa carefree- in every sense of the word.  She was easy to get along with, easy to let your guard down whenever you were around her.  And Zuko was also quick to realize that she was this way with everyone she met.
Just the other day she’d been exploring Ember Island with him and Toph, and the vendors that she’d make small talk with always seemed to laugh with her, or flirt with her.  It was her charisma, Zuko thought.  Or maybe her natural beauty.  Both, probably.
But no one appreciated (y/n) more than Zuko did, he was sure of it.  From the day they’d met, she’d shown him nothing but kindness, and understanding.  Two things that he hadn’t really known before.  Or hadn’t treasured enough when he’d had it.
She was attentive, always offering to listen to his troubles, or just to sit with him while he sulked by the fire.  Deep down, Zuko knew that he could ask almost anything of her, and she would find a way to provide it.
She’s perfect.  And I love her.
This thought struck him as he wandered over to where (y/n) had been laying in the grass.  She’d been alone for quite some time now.  Shortly after she’d finished eating with the others, she’d excused herself, saying she wanted to go for a walk and look at the stars.
No one had thought anything of it, but it had almost been an hour, and she hadn’t returned.
“Are you alright?” He asked her quietly.
She sat up, not as startled by his voice as he thought she would have been, and smiled softly as she turned to look at him.
“Come sit with me” She tells him, her voice just as soft as her kind smile and eyes.  And as she pats the space next to her, he’s not sure how anyone could refuse the offer.
So Zuko walks closer, and sits down next to her.  She giggles, before her hand pushes his shoulder until he leans all the way back in the grass.  He gives her a look, only partially annoyed about now laying on the dewey ground, but she just grins, and lays back next to him.
“You’re just sitting here looking at the sky?” He asks, not seeing what the big deal was.
“I like being out here when the moon is full,” (y/n) murmurs.  “Doesn’t Yue look beautiful?”
Zuko’s eyes wander to the full moon, and for a second, he thinks that it’s brighter than usual.  It almost feels like it’s light is reflecting perfectly on the pair of them.
“That’s Sokka’s first girlfriend?” He asked, and (y/n) hums.
“She was… the best,” She says sweetly.  “I didn’t know her for long- I only had dinner with her once, but… she sacrificed everything for what was right.  I think that’s the most noble and honorable thing a person can do,”
Zuko feels his heart clench, and he tries not to wince, but he can’t help it.
“I mean, she didn’t really know us either, but she committed the most selfless act a person could just to help Aang, and- and save us, really,” (y/n) continues, and then turns to look at him, giving him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen.  “Like you”
His features relax, and she can see him letting the tension out of his shoulders, released through a heavy sign.
“That’s not the same thing” He says, dejected as he returns his gaze to the sky.
“Of course it is,” (y/n) argues in a murmur.  “You gave up everything- the throne, your family, your whole life-”
“Yue gave her life.  She was a princess that had done nothing wrong her whole life.  She’d been the image of goodness.  I had nothing left to lose, because I’d already fucked everything up so bad,”
“Zuko” (y/n) mumbles, hurt, but she doesn’t push him to stop.
“I figured I was either a prisoner of the Fire Nation, or I’d try my hand at letting you and the others choose my fate.  If my destiny wasn’t to be the Fire Prince, maybe it was to help the Avatar-”
“Your destiny is your own, Zuko,” (y/n) says, her voice holding more strength, and getting him to stop rambling as he looks back at her.  “It can’t be decided by anyone else.  But you’ve already made all the right choices”
“How can you say that?” He grumbles, and runs his hand over his face in a stressful manner.
(y/n) reaches out and takes his hand, pulling it away from his face before sitting up slightly, so she can look down at him properly.
“You believe you’ve changed, don’t you?” She asks him, quiet again.
He nods, sheepish under her intense gaze.
“And you understand you’ve been forgiven for the past?”
He hesitates this time, but eventually nods again.
“Then why do you choose not to forgive yourself?”
She sounds so much like his Uncle right now, that his heart melts for her.  He squeezes her hand gently, and sits up with her.
“I don’t know” He mumbles, hanging his head in annoyance.
(y/n) chuckles and shakes her head at him.
“You make everything so complicated,” She says softly, playfully.  “I don’t understand why”
“Everything’s always been complicated” He mutters, looking up at her with a wince on his face.
“No” (y/n) murmurs, shaking her head again, and as she says it, he knows she’s right.
Because that wasn’t true for her.  It had never been complicated with her.
The first night they’d met, she’d greeted him warmly, introduced herself, and showed him the available room in the temple that could be his.  She’d given him one of her extra blankets, because the nights could get so cold- not knowing that he could use his firebending to keep warm.
She’d always told him when dinner was, because no one else bothered to.  She offered to spar with him, even though she wasn’t a bender, he didn’t exactly need extra training in hand to hand combat, or his swordsmanship.
She always sat next to him on Appa’s saddle when no one else would.  Or walked by his side when they went into town for groceries.  It was the little things like that which made her such pleasant company to have.
Even now, sitting with her in the moonlight, he knows he’s never been more comfortable and content in his whole life.
And so he smiles at her, and with his free hand, he reaches out to cup her face, before leaning in and bringing her lips to his.
For a brief moment, he worries that she’ll reject him, push him away, maybe even strike him.
But she doesn’t.
She leans into him, letting go of his hand so that she could take hold of his shoulders and steady herself.  He kisses her with such raw emotion, that she knows exactly what he is trying to communicate to her.
And she reciprocates every ounce of his feelings.
When he pulls away, she takes in a deep breath, their foreheads touching, their hearts beating in sync.  A few beats pass before their eyes open, meeting shyly, but delightedly.
“I didn’t think you would do that” (y/n) murmurs, and she admires the faint blush that dusts over Zuko’s cheeks.
“Me either,” He says in agreement, and they both laugh softly.  
She tilts her head in the slightest, leaning further into the warmth of his palm, while her eyes remain locked on his brilliant ones.
“I think you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met,” He tells her, and her heart skips  a beat.  “And I’m in love with you”
Her eyes widen and her posture straightens, before suddenly she’s crashing into him again, her arms winding around his neck and her lips searing against his.  He nearly topples backwards, but just as he regains his balance, she’s pulling away.
“I love you too,” She tells him, breathlessly.  “And I wish that you…” She trails off, trying to find the right words.  “And I wish that you soon see yourself the way I see you”
He grins back at her, he can’t help it when she returns his feelings and says something so cheesy and profound.
“And how is that?” He asks her.
She kisses him once more, chastely, before mirroring his grin.
“Your glow rivals that of Yue’s,” She tells him in all sincerity, and for a moment his rows raise at the surprisingly eloquent compliment.  “Just… don’t tell Sokka” She adds in a whisper.
He chuckles, and cups her face in his hands, adoring every one of her features that only seemed to brighten in the moonlight.
And then he leans in and captures her lips once more, slowly, surely, and with every last bit of love he’d grown to have for her. ___
this made me soft
xoxo ~ jordie
203 notes · View notes
not-all-dead · 3 years
Text
angstpril day thirteen: “You lied to me.”
CW: yelling, homophobia/transphobia, swearing
fic under the cut
Lin couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited. They’d been with Izumi for almost a year now, but this was the first time anybody knew. Izumi had finally told her staff at the palace along with her advisors and other diplomats about their relationship. In celebration of that, Lin was travelling to the Fire Nation.
They’d been on the water for what felt like ages, the long trip across the ocean moving impossibly slowly. That’s why when they heard the captain announcing their arrival on Fire Nation shores, they could hardly contain their excitement. They still had a train ride until they’d be at the palace, but it was much shorter than the boat ride had been.
Lin’s train came into the station right as they got there, unloading it’s passengers and their luggage before Lin and a good number of others boarded. There was only one stop on the way to the palace, and Lin’s excitement in combination with the speed of the train made the journey go by quickly. They grabbed their luggage and hurried to the door, running off the train as soon as the doors opened.
There was a man standing beside a black satomobile who waved to Lin when they came out the main doors of the station. They hesitated for a moment before remembering Izumi had assured them that their driver was her own much of the time, and walked over to him.
“Excited, Miss Beifong?” The man asked, opening their door for them.
Lin cringed at the prefix but nodded, not caring to explain themselves to someone they’d only see once or twice in a blue moon. They handed their bags to him and slid into the backseat, tapping their fingers together as they waited for him to load their bags and get back in. He started up the sato and adjusted his rear view mirror slightly so he could make eye contact with Lin as he asked questions while driving.
“You’ve been to the palace before, yes?”
“Yeah, many times,” A pause.
“What do you think of the place? Nice beds, no?”
“Very nice, the entire place is extraordinarily luxurious.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” He turned into the long driveway of the palace and Lin let out a relieved sigh.
“You’ve known Her Majesty since you were very young, if I’m not mistaken,” He asked as they neared the large gates and were let in by a guard.
“Yeah, our parents were close friends. We met when I was very young, Zumi was my idol growing up,” Lin noticed the driver’s eyebrows shoot up at their use of Izumi's nickname rather than her proper title.
“Is something wrong?” They asked, confused as so his reaction.
“No, no, sorry,” He shook his head and pulled the sato into a parking spot right by the main doors of the palace.
He stopped the engine and got out, opening Lin’s door for them on his way to retrieve their luggage. A porter met them at the door and rushed off, taking Lin’s things to their room for them. They were about to ask after Izumi when they heard her voice rounding the corner.
“Zumi!” They exclaimed, running towards her and nearly knocking both of them over in a hug.
Izumi laughed and hugged them back, pulling back after a moment and smiling warmly at Lin.
“Lin, you look well,” She said in a happy yet oddly professional manner.
“As do you,” Lin said, narrowing their eyes with slight suspiciousness.
Izumi pulled away from Lin completely and turned to the person she’d been talking to.
“Dad, I know you haven’t seen Lin in ages, but you remember them,” Zuko opened his arms to Lin and pulled them into a hug.
“It’s so good to see you again, kiddo,” He said with a smile.
“It’s great to see you too,” Lin replied, watching Izumi glancing around nervously.
They chatted for a minute or two more by the entrance before a young girl ran to them, informing them that their dinner would be ready soon. They fell quiet as they walked to the dining room, Zuko walking ahead of his daughter and Lin. Just before they got there, Lin pulled Izumi back.
“What’s going on with you? You’re acting all weird and paranoid,” They hissed, eying Izumi sceptically.
“What?” Izumi’s eyes widened and she shook her head.
“Nothing, nothing, sorry,” She shook her head again and smiled at Lin.
“Come, let’s eat.”
Dinner went reasonably, the conversation sometimes awkwardly halting but generally flowing well. Izumi had remained quieter than usual, her eyes flitting around the room at every little movement or sound. Lin watched her, at one point trying to hold her hand over the table, only for her to pull away and avoid their gaze for the rest of the meal.
When they were finished, Izumi left first, hurrying to her room several halls away. Lin glanced at Zuko in confusion before following her, almost making it before being stopped by an older man in butler’s clothes.
“Miss Beifong!” He said, stepping directly in their path.
Lin frowned, annoyed again at Izumi’s staff not knowing not to call them that. They knew Izumi had told them all about that when they’d started dating, but nobody seemed to get it right.
“Hi,” They said with a huff, moving to go around him.
“Sorry,” He stepped in front of them again, holding a hand up.
“You seem to be a bit lost,” He placed his hand on their shoulder, turning them around with a little more force than necessary.
“Your room,” He paused and pointed down the hallway.
“Is down there,” Lin pulled away from him and glared harshly.
“I’m not lost, thanks,” They spat, turning back the way they’d been going before and storming to Izumi’s room.
“What the hell??” They yelled, throwing the door open.
Izumi sat at her desk, back to the door, doing paperwork of some kind or another. She sighed and set down her pen at Lin’s entrance but didn’t turn to face them. Lin stood in the doorway for a long moment before stepping further into the room closing the door behind them.
“You promised me you were going to tell them,” Lin said in a low voice.
“Lin, I-,” Izumi pushed her chair away from the desk.
“You promised,” Lin repeated, walking across the room to put distance between themselves and Izumi.
“Lin please, let me explain, it’s not-,” Izumi stood and started towards Lin, stopping when Lin spun back around to look at her.
“Don’t say it’s not a big deal, Zumi, because we both know that’s not true. You promised me, you lied to me. What is this ‘my room being on the opposite end of the hall’ bullshit? People treating me like I’m just some, some loser who came for publicity or something? Did you even tell your dad?” Lin stalked towards Izumi, stopping when their faces were inches apart.
Lin wrapped their arms around their stomach, biting back tears. They glared up at Izumi, clenching their jaw tightly, unmoving and silent for a very long moment.
Izumi was the first to break away, sitting heavily back in her chair. She rubbed her hands roughly over her face, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She looked back up at Lin and sighed before responding.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just- I was so scared, and I guess I thought-,” Lin chuckled darkly and walked towards the door.
“Lin, wait,” Izumi called, but Lin was already walking down the hallway as quickly as they could.
Izumi took in a shaky breath and swiped at her eyes, getting rid of any tears before they fell. She shoved up from the chair and walked to the door, peeking into the hall before going out. Lin had disappeared into their room already as Izumi hurried down the long hall, knocking twice before going in.
“Lin, I understand you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please-,” She stopped when she saw what Lin was doing.
She stared at Lin, who stood beside their bed, repacking the bags that had been unpacked for them earlier. Clothes were strewn across the sheets, their other belongings littering the floor. They placed their hands on the edge of their suitcase and gripped it tightly before meeting Izumi’s stare.
“I’m not doing this anymore,” They growled, narrowing their eyes at Izumi before turning back to the suitcase and messily shoving more stuff into it.
Izumi’s gaze fell to the floor. She opened and closed her mouth several times before finally finding the right words.
“There are no excuses, I know. I promised you I would tell people about us, and I didn’t. I lied to you,” She felt a tear slip from her eye but didn’t bother to wipe it away.
“You have every right to be furious with me. But please, all I ask is that you stay,” She was properly crying now, and looked back up at Lin who had stopped packing their things again.
“Why should I,” Lin ran their hands roughly through their hair, freeing it from it’s usual bun.
“All that’s here for me is more hiding, more guilt, more lies. It’s not worth it anymore,” They let out a frustrated sigh, slumping defeatedly on the bed.
“I can’t,” Izumi began to cry harder as she watched Lin start to cry, harshly wiping their cheeks every so often with the palm of their hand.
She clenched her fists and closed her eyes, hesitating before walking to the bed and sitting next to Lin. Lin turned their face away from her when she did, but didn’t pull away when she softly placed her hand over theirs.
“I know,” She whispered through shaking breaths.
“I can’t either,” She continued, gulping back her tears and forcing her voice to stabilize.
“But I can’t do this without you. I wouldn’t ask you to stay if I didn’t need you here, Lin, and I-,” She sighed deeply and looked at Lin, her eyes hopeful and pleading.
“I’ll tell them all tomorrow. I promise, for real this time. Just… stay, please, so I don’t have to do it alone,” Lin finally turned back to look at her, face twisting painfully when they did.
They closed their eyes and fought hard against a sob, their shoulders shaking with the strength of it. They didn’t respond to Izumi’s plea, but both of them knew what their answer was as they slid closer to Izumi and leaned their head on her shoulder. Izumi wrapped her arms around them, holding them as they sobbed, crying herself into their soft black hair. It was much, much later that they returned to Izumi’s room, cuddling quietly until sleep came over them both.
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Note
Hi! I want to request a Zuko x Reader where the reader is from the Swamp and decides to join the Gaang to take down the fire lord, and her and Zuko fall in love but Y/n thinks she isn’t good enough because she isn’t as refined as other women so she asks Katara to give her a makeover and teach her how to be more like a lady but Zuko finds out and tell the reader that she doesn’t need to change herself for him. Something along those lines:-) (sorry if that doesn’t make sense, I tried lol)
Hi! Thank you so much for requesting! I loved this request, I feel like it's something very different! I hope you like it!
•••
Changes (Zuko x Fem! Reader)
Warnings: none.
Genre: Fluff.
Fandom: Avatar, The Last Airbender.
Summary: See request.
Word Count: 1488
You'd joined your friends just a little before Toph did, and ever since that day, your life changed completely. You used to live in the swamps, and you soon realized that your old home was very different from the rest of the world.
Getting used to spend a lot of time with them was a little hard at first. The swamps were very humid and all your clothes were made of leaves, so during your first weeks together, using some of Katara's clothes was a bit weird. However, you got used to them, especially since you'd altered them to be more comfortable for you. You got some inspiration from both Sokka and Katara's clothing. Your tunic was now sleeveless and a little shorter, and you had tight pants, which ended a bit above your knee, for better movement.
Soon, your new friends became your new family; but you also gained some new enemies. And at first, having one of your former adversaries around was a little weird. However, you'd never thought you'd end up liking him.
When he first joined you, you always tried to be nice to him, especially since some of your friends were still a bit skeptical about the whole situation, and shortly you became very close. It was nice to spend time with him, and soon the both of you developed feelings for each other.
The only problem with that was that you were very different from him. Ever since you had left the swamps, you'd always try to ignore strangers' looks or comments about you; you knew you weren't what people expected to see when they thought about a girl, and even though you always tried to ignore those remarks, sometimes it still affected you. And it affected you even more whenever you thought about how you were probably nothing like all the other girls Zuko had known or liked, especially since he was part of the royalty. Of course, he liked you just the way you were, but even though you were aware of his feelings towards you, a part of you still thought he wasn't being honest.
So you decided to ask Katara for help. She gladly agreed to help you, but deep down she didn't really understand why you were so interested in changing your appearance all of a sudden.
"What do you want to do first?" She asked.
"I thought that we could start with clothes, maybe? I still have that Fire Nation outfit you picked up for me a while ago," you commented. She nodded and you both went to your shared room on the beach house. Your friend helped you get dressed and when you were done, you felt a bit weird in your new clothes.
"I really like it, (Y/N)! What about you? Do you like it?"
"I do, it's just a bit weird to wear a skirt," you admitted.
"Well, you can always get changed if you want," she reminded you.
"It's okay, I just have to get used to it," you mumbled. You looked at her and let out a small smile before talking again. "Would you like to do my hair?"
"Oh, yes! I've always wanted to do that!" She said as she clapped her hands with excitement in her eyes. "Do you want me to do something specifically or...?"
"Not really, I just don't want to have my hair all over my face."
"Sit down, I know exactly what to do," and you did as she said.
No one had ever touched your hair before, but you actually really liked it. It was relaxing and you wanted to feel Katara's hands through your head forever.
"Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?" You hummed in response, not wanting to move your head. "Is there any reason why you wanted to change the way you look?" You stayed silent and when she was done brushing your hair she kneeled in front of you.
"I just, I guess I just wanted Zuko to like me," you mumbled.
"But he already does, (Y/N), and you know that," she said while grabbing your hands. "And even if he didn't, you shouldn't change your appearance for someone else."
"I know, Katara, it's just that-. I don't know, he's a prince and there's nothing further from royalty than me and... I just want to feel pretty, you know?" You didn't realize, but you had some tears in your eyes, you hated feeling like this.
"I get how you feel, (Y/N). You're beautiful, you just have to remember that, okay?" You nodded with your head and got rid of the tears that were falling down your face. She hugged you and when you two pulled away, she asked if you still wanted her to do your hair. You hummed in agreement and she got behind you. You closed your eyes and stayed there for a while, and you opened them when you heard her say that she was done.
"I swear I was about to fall asleep," you said and the two of you giggled.
"Do you like it?" You looked at yourself in the mirror and you saw how different you looked. "You always say you like my braids so I did a half updo with them," she started saying as she got closer to you. "And then the rest of your hair is also on a braid, but you could wear it down if you wanted to".
"I love it, Katara," you told her right after wrapping your arms around her. "Thank you so much, I love having braids in my hair!"
"I'm glad you like it, and you look even more beautiful than before," she said. "Let's go outside with the others!"
You followed her and when you got outside, you saw that Aang and Zuko were training, but soon after you both got there, they were done.
"Oh, hey, guys! Where have you been?" Aang asked when he saw us.
"Oh, you know, just doing girl's stuff together," Katara commented.
"I like your outfit, (Y/N)!" Said Suki as she sat next to you.
"Thank you, it's not really my thing, but I just have to get used to it," you told her. You all talked for a while until one of you pointed out the fact that you barely had any wood for the fire and you offered to go get some. However, you didn't know that Zuko had gone after you, so when you heard him call out your name, you got a bit scared.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized.
"It's okay, I just thought that I was alone." You picked some stems and branches, but stopped when you realized he was just standing there. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, nothing's wrong, it's just that… I kind of heard you talking to Katara earlier," he admitted after letting out a sigh. You opened your eyes and almost let all the wood fall to the ground. "Look, (Y/N), I-."
"How much did you hear?"
"Everything, I think." You turned your gaze to the side, trying to hide your embarrassment. Zuko took a step closer to you and you lifted your head to look at him. "You don't have to change the way you look," he said. "I mean, you should only do it because you want to, (Y/N)."
"I know, okay? Katara said the same thing, but how could you like me when I'm super like not-girly?"
"I like you for who you are, (Y/N). I like you because you're an amazing person, and you're sweet, but I also think that you're absolutely beautiful," he told you while making eye contact with you. "I like you for everything that makes you who you are, and you don't have to change anything about you if you don't want to."
"Even if I'm super weird and different?"
"Of course, (Y/N)," he got even closer to you and he slowly cupped your face. "Can I kiss you?"
You nodded in agreement, and you felt his lips against yours. You dropped the wood and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling his body closer to yours. When you pulled away, he had the biggest smile on his face.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he said.
"Me too," you agreed. You gave him a short peck on his lips and then grabbed everything that you'd dropped. "Now, I need you to help me," you said. "I want to go back and get changed, it hasn't even been a day, but I can't stand these clothes." He giggled at your words and helped you with everything. The sun was setting and he took a moment to look at you. He thought that you looked completely beautiful in that moment and he wondered how he'd gotten so lucky to have someone like you in his life.
•••
A/N: I don't know if any of you has seen my requests rules post but as I've said before, updates may take some time because of school and just all the emotions and things that come with that, but I promise I see every request and I appreciate them very much. Just wanted to clear that out, thank you for reading!
-Mica
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raikangaru · 4 years
Text
Take My Leave /1 - Zuko x Reader
Warnings: angst
one shot
part two part three
I feel alone even when a crowd surrounds me, I emptily smile and answer the nobles that have come to socialise with me. My eyes continue to watch the pair across from me, my soon to be husband wrapped up in his ex-girlfriend’s childhood friend’s arms, I purse my lips in dissatisfaction, and slowly took a breath in and out, Zuko loves me. “Oi (your name)! Everything alright?”Sokka asks me, I rip my eyes from the pair and turn my attention to the water tribe man, “yup, you know me not much of a social butterfly,”I lie through my teeth he stares at me doubtfully but shakes it off,”well then, can I have this dance, future Firelady,”I cringe at the title, it had been something I wanted but now it hurts to hear it, I plastered a fake smile for Sokka as I took his hand. He ushers us to the dance floor where several other people were dancing, we position into the waltz but Sokka had other plans playfully dipping me and spinning me around the dance floor.
All throughout the dance I had been laughing, I hadn’t genuinely laughed this much and been happy but almost in an instant the feeling was gone and replaced with jealously and dread. Mai and Zuko had gone to a secluded corner and she had thrown her arms around Zuko, whispering ill words into the black haired man’s ear. I shake my head and concentrate on dancing with Sokka, plastering the most perfect fake smile I could muster. My whole being hurt, it’s as if my body had felt numb but I had to hold up until the end of this event, holding my head high. “Sokka, lets have a seat and eat some desserts,”I say to the water tribe man and he agrees excitedly leading us to the large dessert table, I scan through all the sweet treats and pick the egg tarts. We then sit at our table and much in the treats,”ne (your name), where’s Zuko?”Aang asks, I cringe but quickly masking it,”uh he’s probably busy talking business with the nobles, it’s a good time to solidify connections,”I lie through my teeth, hoping to sound very convincing.
“Ahh I see”
***
The night had finally come to an end and it was time for me and the rest of the Avatar gang to retire into our own quarters, “Firelord Zuko has a urgent meeting,”the guards push the doors open to Zuko and I’s shared quarters. The room was cold and empty, I shake my head and make my way to the bathroom, stripping off my fancy robes and undoing the tight ties of my hair, I stand bare infront of the mirror before taking a cloth and gently removing the makeup. Tears stream down my eyes as a sob racks through my body, more and more days do I feel lonely and heartbroken, a tiny part of me wants to believe him when he says, Mai is really just a friend.
“Zuko, it makes me uncomfortable how Mai treats you,”I say, eyeing the male as he works from his desk, he stares at me before going back to his,”why do you say that?”he replies continuing on with the paperwork. I shift in the seat, feeling uncomfortable already,”don’t you think she’s little bit too touchy with you,”I look away, my heart pounding in my chest as silence blankets us. “I don’t think she is,”he breaks the silence,”oh, she’s clinging on your arm more than me,”I say quietly looking at everything except him, he stops writing and we’re back in silence.
“She’s just a friend,”he dismisses the subject but I couldn’t just accept it,”she acts as if she’s your fiancé,”I counter now looking at the scarred man,”well you should act more like her,”my heart sinks, his words cut like a knife, I’m rendered speechless as I stare at him in disbelief. I gather up my robes and leave his office, tears brim at my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. It feels like she’s more than just your friend.
I lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. Thoughts of when Zuko used to give me his attention and shower me with his love, the promises he had given me now all empty as I lay here lonely and upset. He’s no longer the man I used to know, whom I’ve shared my deepest secrets and desires, the man I had fought against and fought side by side with. Tonight was the end of my misery, I am tired, all my life I knew nothing good lasts forever, I tiredly get off the bed. Slipping on a thick outer robe and a pouch of my own money, I push the doors open,”lady (your name), you’re still awake,”I smile weakly to the guards before heading in the direction of my ‘soon-to-be husband’, his office door had been left unguarded and I pushed the door open.
The sight before me does not surprise me but it does still aches to see it happen, Zuko and Mai are cuddled on his loveseat as they both share a passionate kiss. They both break apart and almost jump away from each other when they saw me,”(your name) let me explain,”Zuko says as he pushes Mai and gets up from the seat,”no it’s okay Zuko, I had come here to inform you of my withdrawal of your engagement,”I say calmly, trying my hardest to not let my voice crack, holding in tear that have threatened to spill, refusing to show any pain. I hold my ground but my heart has shattered in pieces, my heart,”no don’t say that (your name), I love you,”his voice cracks,”if you love me, you’ll let me go,”my resolve betrays me as a tear slips down my cheek,”I can’t be like her, so I’m giving you the freedom and releasing you from me,”I weakly smile as my heart clenches and my tears are now steadily falling.
“(your name) you’re making a mistake, you belong to me”
“I’m making us both happy, Zuko you were never mine,”it’s taking everything in me to say these words,”it hurts me to be in a relationship with you and it seems like you don’t want to be in it either”,I sob out.
”Fine, then you can go fuck off. You’re a fucking bitch anyways, so needy of my attention.”fresh tears flood my vision but I continue to stand tall and offer both of them a smile.
“Then, I shall take my leave”
//
m a s t e r l i s t
heyya! sorry this is sad and i took so long to update, been taking my japanese classes! anyways i’m trying my best to update as much but i’m in need to ideas haha! i got some but i feel it’s no good or you guys might not like it. anyways leave a like if you enjoyed and hmu if you have any suggestions, have a great day!
all the love xx
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lettersfromn0where · 4 years
Text
“for palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss”: a drabble (for @sofileall)
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Pairing: Zuko/Katara
Summary: Zuko makes an observation. (Aka @sofileall and I were analyzing gifs, realized that Katara’s hands look tiny compared to Zuko’s, and immediately decided that fic about this fact needed to exist.)
——————
Zuko has never considered himself to be particularly talented. He has never been a prodigious firebender or politician or...navigator of social interactions.
But even he must admit that he is remarkably talented at creating awkwardness out of nothing. He’s known this all his life, but never has he been more keenly aware of it than he is now, trying to stay still and resist the urge to shift against pillows that suddenly feel stifling as Katara bends glowing water around the star of burnt skin on his abdomen.
He watches her hands move - deft and confident and skilled without a trace of doubt that she knows exactly what she’s doing - and if he doesn’t want to feel dizzy with awe he knows he has to distract himself. He thinks he’ll always be distracted in her presence like this, but this time he’s a little out-of-it for other reasons - he’s been in and out of a high fever for a few days after his Agni Kai with Azula - and he can’t even pretend to be thinking straight. So he latches on to every passing thought that breezes through his mind: I could go for some fire flakes right now, someone should crack open a window in here because it’s getting too stuffy. Most of the trains of thought he boards for a few passing seconds are similarly inane. But others are a bit more distracting, like Katara’s hands are so tiny.
That one won’t leave him alone, for some reason. And when she decides she’s done all she can, stands up, and bends the water back into her waterskin, Zuko reaches out to clasp her retreating wrist without even thinking about it.
Katara’s eyes widen, and he sees the color rise in her cheeks and wonders if he’s made a mistake, but soon she sits again, a shy smile taking the place of the confused nose-scrunch of the previous instant. (Zuko doesn’t want to admit to being as fond of that nose-scrunch as he is.) “Do you need something?” she asks, neither moving to clasp his hand or removing his from her wrist.
“You have really tiny hands,” he tells her, and he’s certain his face is hotter than any fire he’ll ever bend. But something in him still finds the wherewithal to move his fingers from Katara’s wrist to her hand and he holds it, flat on its back against his palm, examining every line and crease. Katara’s cheeks are as red as his own now and she flips her hand to press their palms together, lifting their hands until they’re vertical and flat against each other.
Her fingers stop a few inches short of his. Zuko can’t help but smile because he was right, Katara’s hands are tiny compared to his own, and somehow, this is a Very Important Revelation. “See?” he asks. “Small.”
Real articulate, Zuko. He’d be annoyed at his sudden bout of awkward, girl-induced monosyllabism, but he can’t find it within himself to care. He’s basically holding her hand. That seems a little too significant to allow him to think about anything else right now.
Katara nods, still blushing. “I guess they are.” She folds her fingers through his, grabbing on tight with her palm still flat against Zuko’s. She gives his hand a little squeeze with her knuckles, which isn’t nearly as strong as she intends it to be because she’s only using half of her hand, but still makes Zuko wonder if he’s still delirious with the fever he’s only now recovering from. Reflexively, he pulls their intertwined hands closer to his face and brushed his lips against the back of Katara’s hand.
She giggles (he’s never heard her giggle before) a little nervously, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. Or...say anything. Or move.
It’s as if she’s frozen in place.
Zuko wonders if he’s done something wrong until, hesitantly, she mirrors the motion, kissing his hand the way he had hers, and-
Breathe, Zuko. Breeeeathe. (This is not helpful. He feels like he’s free-falling in the best possible way.) you’re okay. This is good. This is great! Don’t make it awkward! ...er than it already is!
“Sorry,” Katara mutters, pulling her hand away. “I shouldn’t-“
“No, it’s okay,” he reassures her. “I...” liked it. “Don’t mind.”
“Oh, okay.” She still looks a little flustered, but she rebounds quickly. “And how do you know it’s my hands that are small and not yours that are big?”
“They just are!”
“Tell yourself that.” She smirks, and with another quick squeeze, she drops his hand and turns to leave.
And Zuko’s left staring at his hand and wondering what exactly just happened.
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fanfoolishness · 4 years
Text
Feeding Turtle-Ducks (ATLA)
Azula struggles with her memory, but her brother is there to help.  A bittersweet reflection on redemption and the sibling relationship.  References both the main ATLA series as well as The Search and LoK. 2500 words.
***
Some days time flutters past her in fragments, fallen leaves from the vine.
Azula gets… confused, now.  It is a fact that once would have needled her.  Yet she can accept it, given that she forgets the confusion as quickly as it comes, riding each wave of memory with a grace befitting Fire Nation royalty.
Today her mind stretches back, back, back.  She sees Mother’s finery hanging forgotten in the grand wardrobe, recalls trying it on after sneaking away from her boring lessons.  She breathes in the smell of her mother. The beautiful robes drag on the ground, piles of fabric cloaking her child-sized frame.  She stuffs the robes back in the wardrobe in anger and considers setting them ablaze.
She does not.  She is better than that.  Colder.  But when next she visits the wardrobe, its gilded hooks are empty, and she sinks to her knees in tears.
She gets to her feet, crouched in a fighting stance, lightning gathering to her fingertips in a fight in the middle of a boiling lake.  Her friends stare at her, eyes lowered in deference, fear, acceptance of her rule.  She has allowed herself this indulgence, this trust in their alliance.  
She is repaid by Mai’s words of love, Ty Lee’s knuckles fierce pinpricks beneath her armor, and she collapses to the ground before them like a fool.
Azula bows over herself.  Faintly she hears her name, kind whispers in a voice she knows but cannot identify.  Where is she?  She cannot say.  Time skips past her again.
Her coronation day.  She should be so proud, so proud of her perfection, her precision, her careful skill.  But her attendants are traitors and her mother whispers sadly in her ears.  She stares into the mirror through her ruined bangs.  With all her intelligence, all her skill, still she never believed her father would treat her this way.  As lesser.  As an afterthought.  
She never thought he would treat her like her brother.
Sozin’s comet flares and the fire in her veins scorches, pure and clean.  The world is quiet here, only herself and her hauntings, Zuzu and a faceless shadow in the background.  The Agni Kai boils around them, the terrible roar of flames blue and orange beneath a red sky, and she pulls out lightning from deep within herself, aims at the shadow — because she can’t bear to aim at him, not this time — or because she misjudges the battlefield — or because she wants to hurt him, but not to kill him -- or because she can’t bear for him to live and remember her like this —
She doesn’t know why she calls the lightning and sends it onward.  But she sees her brother hit the ground rolling, sparking, sizzling, his hands weak and nerveless, the smell of singed hair and skin in the air, and she thinks, I’ve won.
So why does this part always make her weep?
***
Sometimes, a flame burns brightly in her mind, and with it a blue-white clarity.  Today is a better day, and this time she does not wander, lost, through the shadow-stories of her own mind.
She remembers this place on these clear days.  She knows this quiet group of cottages near the city and the sea, where royal attendants skilled in healing and care help her and others like her.  They call it the Fireside Cove, and today she waits near the pond for her favorite visitor.
Zuko rounds the corner, stepping into the garden with a grin on his face.  He had been a tall man in his prime, but now his shoulders bend forward, his long white hair flowing more like water than flame.  His clothing is casual but rich, befitting a former Firelord.  The old scar glares as ever but Azula feels no spiteful delight, no vindication, when she looks into his face. She feels only comfort.
He sits beside her, slowly lowering himself into a lotus position.  “How are you today, sister?” he asks gently.
Azula smiles.  “Clear.”  It is the word she has chosen for those rare days, rarer now, when the mists of age depart and let her see the present, not the past.  She does not know why she bears this struggle but he does not, but she does not begrudge him for it.  She knows that she can bear it.
“I’m glad,” he says, and his lined face creases into a smile that falters.  “Yesterday was a hard day for you.  I visited, but… we didn’t really get to talk.”
Azula nods, looking into the pond.  She cannot remember it, but she trusts him to speak the truth.  “Sometimes it is so difficult to know what is here.  What is now.”  She closes her eyes.  “There are so many things I wish had been different.”
“It was a long time ago, Azula,” he says, resting a hand on her shoulder.  She leans against her big brother.  “It’s all right now.”
“But I nearly killed you,” she says reproachfully.  “I would have done it, were my technique better.”  She breathes deep.  “Have I ever apologized to you?”
“A hundred hundred times,” he murmurs, “over many years.”  He smiles fondly.
“I don’t remember,” she sniffs.  “I should remember something like that.”   She sits up straight, then inclines her head in a bow, her hands in a salute.  “I’m sorry, Zuzu.  Truly.”
Zuko takes her hands in his.  They’re gnarled and wizened, and for a moment she blinks, surprised.  Then she remembers again.  It was all such a long time ago, and yet it seems so fresh.
“I forgive you,” he says.  “And I always will.”
She nods, clinging to his words.  She suspects they will slip away again like the other memories, but maybe, maybe she can hold them this time.  She is Azula, she is royalty, she commands the words to stay writ in her mind --  And they do, for a little while, at least.
“It’s good to have visitors,” Azula declares, pulling back and straightening up despite the protests of her creaking back.  “You are not the only one, Zuzu, though you are my favorite.”
He grins lopsidedly at her, and he is seven years old again, impossibly grown up and wise in her eyes.  “I thought Kiyi and her family weren’t coming until next month.”
“Not Kiyi.”  
“Then who?” asks Zuko.  He considers.  “I’m sorry Izumi has been so busy.  I know she has not been able to visit for some time due to her duties, and as for my grandson --”
Azula waves a hand at him.  “Kiyi and Ty Lee send me letters, and the others are busy ensuring the safety of the Fire Nation, of course,” she says.  “No, I have had other visitors.”  She smiles, a small and secret smile.  “Perhaps you will think me crazy if I tell you.”
Zuko gazes at her, and for a moment she wonders if it is sorrow darkening his amber eyes.  She is unsure, though, and in the next moment the expression fades. “No,” says Zuko.  “I won’t.  You can tell me.  I promise.”
“Mother has been to visit,” Azula whispers.  “And Uncle Iroh.  They -- they tell me they are proud.”  She blinks back sudden tears, and turns away.  Perhaps she should not have told him, should not have shared their faces distant and yet so close, their words so peaceful and certain, their simple promise heartening.  Soon.  She flushes.  “Don’t laugh.”
When she does dare to look at him again, this time she is certain she cannot tell what his face shows.  His eyes are soft, bright with tears of their own, and yet he smiles back at her.  “I’m not laughing.  I’m happy for you, Azula.”
“Thank you,” she says, and then the moment splinters, shards of memory spilling out, unordered, chaotic.
***
She is different, changed, filled with mingled regret and hope as she steps, a guest, into the palace for the first time in a decade.  There is a pride in her brother and his rule, the way the people trust him without fear, something she could never have imagined as a frightened, fractured, perfect child -- 
“Azula,” Ursa murmurs. “Do you remember our little game?”
She catches her breath in the darkened recesses of the palace, her mother’s voice ringing in her ears.  She wants to resist.  She wants to snap at her mother to leave her alone. But she — she’s missed her, and she’s grown since their last meeting, and she understands now that there is a wound carried in her secret heart of hearts —
“I remember counting fire-butterflies in the garden,” Azula whispers. “Zuko would get impatient because there were so many, and he would wander off to play.”
“But you were my clever girl,” says Ursa softly. “Sitting in my lap, counting so high.  Dozens of them.  They looked like jewels at dusk, glittering in the last of the sunlight. You were so proud of yourself for counting so many.”
“I pretended they were my soldiers.  You and Father always told me I would be a great leader someday,” Azula says.  She turns away.  “But Zuko found his honor, Mother.  I lost mine long ago.”
“You are finding it.”
“I --” she tries.
“I failed you,” says Ursa, and Azula winces.  “My beautiful, clever daughter. I’m so sorry.”  Ursa’s arms around her are warm and strong, and she has forgotten what this feels like, it was so long ago and she was so small, so lost within the armor she’d created --
“I hated you,” she sobs.
“I loved you, my Azula, my fire-butterfly.”  Ursa’s voice cracks, thick with seeming sorrow.  “You were always so brilliant. I never stopped loving you.”
“I don’t believe you,” she whispers stubbornly, but it is a lie, and she knows her mother knows it.
***
Azula shakes her head, blinking back grateful tears.  But her mother isn’t here, and she searches the room in confusion.  The tea room.  She knows this place.
“It’s been many years,” her uncle says, brushing the floor of his shop peacefully.  “You’ve grown, Azula.”
“Or perhaps you’ve shrunk,” she jabs, but without any real venom. She watches him cautiously.  Older he might be, but he is still the Dragon of the West, as the Dai Le can attest.  It is not a battle she wants with him, but perhaps that is all she deserves.
“Jasmine tea?”
“Surprise me, Uncle.”
“Ahhh, but you have been surprised by very few things, Azula. Still, I will do my best.”  He bows to her in the style of the Earth Kingdom, and turns to prepare the tea.
“There are a few things,” she admits.  “The older I become, the more I know I do not know.”  But she cannot name these things, not yet; she does not know how to put these new feelings into words, the reconciliation with her mother, the gradual and deep respect she has grown for Zuko, the cautious, painful meetings with Mai and Ty Lee, teaching her half-sister Kiyi firebending.  She is learning so much.  
There is a long silence, broken only by tea pouring into her cup.  The scent of lotus flower fills the room.
“You are different,” Iroh observes.  “That is a surprise of its own.”
“I have had time.  I hope it is enough.”  She hesitates.  It astounds her sometimes, how much she has learned by watching and waiting, and yet how much of life remains a mystery to her.  But she wishes to know more.   “Would you care for a game of Pai Sho?”
“If you do not mind defeating a harmless old man.”
“You are as harmless as I, Uncle,” she says, but the smile he gives her is worth more than a dozen victories.
***
Voices in the garden, a face mouthing her name.  She does not understand.  She bows over her clasped hands, fire trembling at her fingertips, and lets the flames burn sweetly away.  The memories fall away, ash on the wind.
Izumi red-faced and wrinkled, her precious niece, pride of the Fire Nation.
A walk on a beach on Ember Island with Mai, her hair streaked gray, an embrace in the ocean breeze.
Ty Lee’s hand in hers, the grip stronger and softer than she remembered.
Standing beside her brother with his family, their family, gazing clear-eyed at the pyre.  Watching the flames rise for Iroh, for Father, for Mother, for Mai.  Or was it a pyre at all?  Perhaps it was Sokka in Water Tribe finery, Aang in Air Nomad regalia.  She doesn’t know  -- she cannot name them -- where is she --
***
A deep breath.  A blue-white flame dancing in her mind’s eye.  Clarity.  She is here again.
“Azula?”
An old man gazes at her.  She squints. Could it be Father, somehow scarred and bowed with age? 
She reconsiders, searching for the answer.  No.  She is certain.  There is too much kindness in the eyes.
Her vision clears, and Azula glances at her big brother, taking another breath.  “I’m sorry.  What were we speaking of?”
“You’re here again,” Zuko says, seeming relieved.  “We’re just spending time together, that’s all.”
Zuko pulls her close to him in a clumsy hug, and she chuckles, allowing him to do so for a moment before pulling back.  “Gross, Zuzu.  All of this family affection.  Isn’t it a bit much?”
“Well, you’re one of my favorite sisters,” he says seriously.
“You always were a sentimental fool.  Don’t worry, I won’t tell Kiyi if you declare me your favorite,” she scoffs.  She glances down to the blanket they are sitting on, and lets out a laugh.  “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Have not,” he protests.  “It’s for both of us to share.  I was waiting until you were ready.”  
“So you say,” she says, fixing him with a wicked glare that shifts into a sly smile.  “But I believe you.  You always were a terrible liar.”
“Someone got all the lying talent in the family,” says Zuko, nudging her in the side with a bony elbow.  “I wonder who that could be.”
“Jealous as usual?” she asks loftily.  But she reaches between them, picking out a handful of cracked corn from the bag resting on the blanket.  
“You wish,” he snorts, and he sounds just like the hot-headed young man she remembers so clearly.  He reaches down and picks up his own handful of grain.  “Bet I can get more turtle-ducks to come over than you can.”
“I have the home advantage,” she reminds him.  “They know me, Zuzu.”  They toss their handfuls together, golden corn twinkling on the surface of the still pond for an instant before the turtle-ducks begin to swim towards them. 
“They know me, too,” he declares.  The turtle-ducks cluster before them near the water’s edge, peacefully eating the offering, making happy little noises of contentment.  “I think it’s a tie.”
“Very well,” says Azula after a swift count.  Alas, he is right.  “We will see who is the victor at tomorrow’s visit, won’t we?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”   
The setting sun dances on the water in reds and golds, a brilliant gleaming in this quiet moment.  She knows not how long it will last, but perhaps that isn’t important, anyway.  The turtle-ducks splash and play before them, swimming at the water’s edge, and Azula laughs beside her brother.
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failedfirebender · 4 years
Text
Distance - ZUTARA
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender Genre: Drama, Romance. Words: 2482 Paring: Zutara - Zuko & Katara
________________________________________
Zuko approached Katara; it was late and she had fallen asleep reading on the couch. No, not reading, he realized, writing. The notebook was going up and down, over her chest.
For the last year and a half, she’d been studying and collecting data of all kinds of healing. From traditional ways – including herbs and potions –, to bending ones, with the objective of putting it all together in a massive “healing encyclopedia”, as Zuko liked to call it. She was almost done with it, and had been pulling preoccupying all-nighters for the last week, excited by the view of the finish line. Even when her passion was one of the many things that’d made Zuko fall for her, he was trying to help her get it under control. It was not healthy when it took control of her like that.  
He woke her up tenderly, kneeling in front of her and brushing the stands of hair that had fallen over her face. Her nose frowned and a grumble left her mouth. The tips of his lips curled and a rough chuckle slid past his lips. It was such a Katara thing to do.
As she softly awakened, he took a hairband from her wrist, proceeding to stand and make his way behind her. With all the calm in the world, he accommodated her wild curls into a bun and tied it up. His hands fell to her shoulders, helping her sit up, and massaging them kindly.
His girlfriend looked up at him and yawned, stretching her limbs as far as she could. Her hands reached up to the sides of his cheeks and squished them.
“Oh, my hero!” She giggled, her voice still dormant and low. “You saved me from the terrible fate of a back contracture!” He knew she only got all touchy and silly when sleep deprived. If any other human dared touch him like that, he’d burn their hands off. But this was Katara, and thus, her childish behavior only made his grin wider.
He kissed her forehead.
“Let's get you to bed.”
“No, no!” She whisper-shouted, shaking her head, “I am about to finish, just one more paragraph.” He raised an eyebrow. “Ok, ok maybe it’s another chapter, but who cares?”
“I do.” To these words, her sleepy eyes lit up. “Come on, you can finish tomorrow.”
He’d been meaning to talk to her forever. But between his duty as Fire Lord and the encyclopedia project, time had been a luxury they couldn’t afford. Which was good- kind of. Zuko had had more than enough time to think exactly of what he wanted to say, and practice it eternally looking at himself in the mirror. Not that he did, of course. Anyways – and just like he suspected –, all the practice in the world made him feel no closer to confident now the time came.  
Perhaps it was the timing. After all, four in the morning was not the best moment to have the conversation that had been haunting him the last two months. Maybe he shouldn’t... But he couldn’t back down now. He knew that if he did, the courage he’d been gathering would be lost for good.  
His fingers sunk deeper into her muscles, tracing calming circles and she sighed. But before he could tell, she was pulling away.  
“I know...” a yawn interrupted her words, her hand covering her mouth. She was terribly adorable. “...your tricks, and I won’t fall for them.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him what was supposed to be a death glare over her shoulder.  
He repressed a laugh, knowing it wouldn’t help his cause, and instead lead his hands back to her nape. This time, she didn’t move.
“How is this fair?” he mocked, “The one time she visits, I have to beg my girlfriend for attention.”  
Katara, who now had her notebook open over her crossed legs, tilted her head back; her features tainted with guilt.  
“I know, I know... I’ve been travelling a lot, but as soon as I finish the book, I’ll settle back in the Water Tribe and we’ll see each other more often.”
The thing was, Zuko’s plans did not include a long-distance relationship.  
“The book can wait a few more hours.”  
“And you can’t?” Katara’s words were meant to be a joke, a playful smirk was plastered on her face, yet Zuko’s reply was overwhelmingly honest.  
“I think I’ve waited long enough.”  
Just like that, the waterbender tensed under his touch. With cautioned movements, she placed the book in the small table in front of her and stood up. They looked into each other’s eyes with the couch between them. Katara’s eyes flickered with fear, no trace of the previous sleepiness on her face. Zuko, instead, wondered what he did to deserve the love of such a beautiful creature.
“What’s wrong?” her voice quavered with concern. She knew him too well, how did he even expect her not to realize something was up?
He extended his arm over the couch – her hand grabbed his with hesitation – and led her around the piece of furniture and to his side. Unable to hold back his impulses, he tugged her in, trapping her in his arms. A surprised shriek was suffocated half way out her mouth, as their bodies collided and she melted into him.  
They’d been together for four years, and she still had the perfume of fresh winter breeze impregnated in her hair. She still had the same freezing touch that drove him crazy, the same stubbornness and capability of arguing till death, the desperate need to help others and make this world better. He’d never get tired of loving her.  
He squeezed her tight once more before letting go, and looked down to her eyes. When moonlight hit them in just the right angle, like it was doing now, their oceans seemed to shine like mercury had been melted in them, like the silver light of a thousand stars was held within.
His hand traced his way down the length of her arm and his fingers intertwined with hers. Katara’s worried frown relaxed as she realized the tips of his lips were struggling to contain a smile.
In that same silence, overflowed with both questions and expectations, Zuko guided them both to the bed in the center of the room. He sat over it with his legs crossed and invited Katara to do the same.  
“I am getting really scared over here. What’s going on?” she said, fidgeting with his fingers, “I won’t do anything until you say something.” He shook his head no and chuckled, uncapable of forming any coherent sentence. His eyes went from the girl, to the bed, and back, insisting.  
Few were the times he’d been as nervous as he was at that moment. He could feel his caged heart bouncing against his ribs, desperate to come out and fall into Katara’s hands. It was a tired heart, beaten up and somehow strong enough to love harder every day. Zuko hated it when she was away, his heart so passive, his head so cold and calculative. No one had ever turned his world upside down the way Katara did, and he cherished every second of it.  
Once she was in front of him, he let go of her hand.
“Say something. Anything.” She begged. “You’ve been weird ever since I got here, you think I didn’t realize?” Her eyes were determined, but also flooded with worry.  
He brushed the palms of his hands anxiously against his knees, not finding a good answer for any of the things that she’d said. He was feeling something he thought long lost; his blood boiling as it sprinted through his veins, his temperature way higher than usual, his cheeks blushing and his lips stuck in a smile. He hadn’t felt this nervous around Katara in a really long time. Their first couple months dating made him feel just like that; uneasy, scared to ruin it all by being the confused little boy he was. But he was a man now, and the woman in front of him was no longer a child. They’d both grown, and they’d done it right next to each other.  
“You do know the first time we met I thought you were pretty?”  
Katara’s eyes widened.
“This is what you wanted to talk to me about? I mean I’m glad to-”
“No, no,” he calmed her down, rising his palms. “Let me finish.” He took a deep breath, barely believing this was the real deal, not himself repeating the words over and over in front of the mirror. “You were just this pretty girl that was making my life impossible by pairing up with the Avatar. You always found a way to mess up my plans. Damn, till today I remember how I hated you after our fight in the Northern Water Tribe.” The memory made them both smile. They’d come so far from where they started.  
“To be fair, you kind of wan the spar.”
“But you did save Aang in the end... and you saved me, too.” He swallowed. “You could’ve left me there to die, but you made sure I was safe. At that time... I don’t know if I would’ve done the same.”  Zuko could see the engines in her head turning like crazy. They’d been over the events of that night plenty of times and of course, she had no idea of where he was trying to get. “Then there was that day in which we all team up against Azula, remember?” She nodded, patiently, “And my uncle...” the memory made him shiver “When my sister hit him you tried to help me, but I pushed you away. Back in those days, I knew nothing better than fighting alone.” An apology was written in his eyes. “And the catacombs... it’s true, you know? What you said.”  
“I mean most of the things I say are, but specifically about what?” The waterbender continued to look completely puzzled.
Zuko bit his lip to repress his laugh. “Show off,” he accused her.  
Katara shrugged and the hint of a smile appeared on her face.  
“You told me a long time ago that you were the first one to trust me, and still, I betrayed you.” They were long past that, but Katara’s smile flickered. He knew how hard it had been on her to watch him pair with Azula after... well, after everything. “And you were talking about the guys, but you were the first one to trust me ever. Besides my uncle, no one had ever seen anything worth saving within me, anything worth healing... not even myself.” His hand had drifted to his scar, and Katara reached out to it, cupping it in her own. His eyes closed and he leaned towards her touch. “I’ll never ever forgive myself for that day-” She opened her mouth to speak, but he gave her that look that said ‘I’ve been putting my guts together the last two days to say this so please don’t interrupt’, and she shut it. “Not even knowing you did. And last, there was Azula’s Agni Kai.”  
There was a pause after those words. Even when the scars that marked his skin healed, the ones in his soul hadn’t completely. Katara took his hand between both of hers and left an encouraging kiss over it.  
“I think even when I didn’t realize it back then, I already loved you.” To these words, that had never been spoken before, a million feelings shadowed Katara’s features. “I’ve spent all this time loving you and I can’t do it anymore, not like this.” The grip of her fingers loosened around his hands, and when his eyes met hers, the life seemed to have been ripped out of them. Still, he didn’t let go of her. “I am tired of missing you every single day, tired of waiting for your letters, not knowing if you are ok... I can’t do that anymore.” With every word, her eyes watered up, and he forgot completely about the other one hundred things he wanted to say. He just couldn’t bare it any more. “Move in with me. Come live here, in the Fire Nation, in the palace, with me.”  
The words fell out of his mouth gracelessly, way too fast and tipsy, not at all like he’d wanted them to. But it was done, and deafening expectation was now overflowing his body. The feeling was erratic, his every cell on edge, like he’d just shot a question way more dangerous than lightning. Katara’s state couldn’t be described with any other word but shock. Her eyes were about to fall from her face, her lips were parted and, except for one sneaky tear sliding down her cheek, she remained impossibly still.
And then, just when Zuko was about to apologize and take it all back for rushing things, his girlfriend’s hand struck him across the face with strength worthy of a Master waterbender. His hand flew to his cheek as he turned to her in disbelief.  
“That’s for making me believe you were breaking up with me!” Her chest was going up and down agitated, another tear fell from her left eye.  
Zuko was in absolute shock. He hadn’t realized his words could be interpreted that way. Why did he always have to screw everything up? Couldn’t he be a romantic average boyfriend for once? The moment he opened his mouth to try and fix the mess he’d made, her lips met his.  
It was an urgent kiss, fiery and passionate, that made him fall back on the bed, Katara over him. His hands dug deep into her hair and pulled back, the messy curls being freed and falling like an endless river behind her. He loved her, spirits he loved her so much the feelings could barely be held within his body, it was as if though they were trying to escape through every touch, through the bridge between their lips.  
Her hands were tangled in his mane and he took the opportunity to shift them, trapping her between him and the bed. Their lips finally separated, but as for the rest of their bodies, he couldn’t say the same.  
“And what...” he was completely out of breath, his shaken words got mixed with Katara’s minted breath. Their eyes collided, burning amber against ocean blue. Hers glowed like beacons in the darkest night. “What was that for?”  
“That?” a smirk took over her face “That was for all the rest.”
This time, he was the one to close the distance that held them apart. They had had more than enough distance for a lifetime, and from now on, he’d make sure to make up for every second of it.  
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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years
Text
Light Disorientation
Azula Week Day 2: Azula Rare Pairs
Summary: Sometimes things distort in her mind. Sometimes she confuses the past with the present. Sometimes when she does, she is ugly in her mind.
Warnings: Mental Health Issues & Body Image Issues
Azula is not comfortable in her skin, more often than not it absolutely crawls. It helps very little that she is surrounded by such beautiful people. Katara with her mesmerizingly bright blue eyes and her deep complexion, Toph and her confident and charming smile, Suki and her toned arms and soft skin, Mai and her tall and elegantly willowy figure and TyLee with her...well, everything. Sokka has his muscular arms and a new collection of traditional Water Tribe tattoos. She doesn’t see Zuko’s appeal in the slightest but he has a vast crowd of giggling admirers. And while Aang isn’t exactly a looker, he’s got his heroics and his lovable mannerisms.
Perhaps, just a few years ago, in her prime, she had been something to look at and envy. But now...now she doesn’t want to look at herself even in passing. Her eyes have a bruised appearance, they are nowhere near as vivid as they had been. Her tangled locks aren’t so silky nor shiny. Her skin is drier somehow. In general, she thinks that she is muted, duller. She is hollow, her robes have a tendency to slide down her shoulders, more so than usual. And, unlike Aang, she doesn’t have a personality to make up for it. She isn’t approachable and endearing, her talents are terrifying. She has her itelligence but that never seems to matter anymore especially on the days when the clutter in her mind is too heavy for deep and critical thinking.  
She doesn’t like going on outings with the rest of them, no matter how well and forgivingly they treat her. She looks sloppy without the side by side comparison. With it...she cringes. Tonight she has subjected herself to the tortures of inferiority. TyLee had been so cheerful about the prospect of going to a party with her. The first one they’ve attended in ages. And she’d flashed that bright and cheerful little smile. That was all it had taken.
She is dressed as finely as she can be, but she doesn’t think that the outfit does her the favors she was hoping for and no amount of makeup seems to bring life to her expression. She is exceptionally dull with TyLee to her right and Katara to her left.
And by the middle of the party, they all have their own personal crowds. All except she. Azula’s stomach tickles with a discomfort that won’t seem to pass. She wishes that she was still beautiful or that she had some social graces. She wishes that she hadn’t let herself go so terribly far.
People pay her very little attention. And maybe she should be thankful for that. It means that they aren’t ridiculing her. That they aren’t informing her of things that she already knows, of the flaws she already sees.
She wishes that she had gotten better sleep, that she hadn’t chopped her bangs off, that she could muster up a better appetite, that she hadn’t started slacking on her training…
“Hi.”
She stares at her palms. She looks up to see that none of the crowds have dispersed, she wonders if she will ever get an opening to let one of the gang know that she is leaving. She thinks that she will slip out soon, they can find her at home.
She hears the clearing of her throat, “hello-o.”
Azula spares a glace over her shoulder.
The girl behind her waves, her face glows with a smile.
“What?”
The girl hums, “well you’re clearly the life of this party.” She drops down onto the couch next to her anyhow. “Is that why you’re alone?”
What a rude question. But it isn’t exactly untrue; she thinks that, among many other things, it is why she is alone now and always. She shrugs, “I guess. Probably.”
The girl rubs the back of her head. “Geez.”
Azula looks away from her again. Perhaps the girl will leave her alone if she doesn’t speak anymore. She isn’t so lucky. “Have you tried talking to anyone?”
Azula shakes her head.
“Why  not?”
She almost snapes, ‘because people ask too many questions.’ She only shrugs again and after a few moments she replies, “I guess that I don’t know what to say. People aren’t interested in Fire Nation history and battle strategizing.” They probably don’t want to be seen with someone so messy either.
“There are so many people here, you’re bound to find someone else that is.”
“Are you?”
“Nope,” the girl yawns, “boring.”
Azula’s face falls.
“But I’ll still listen if that’s what you want to talk about.”
She doesn’t want to talk about it. Or any of her other weird, and uninteresting interests.
“I’m Seicho, by the way.”
Azula nods, “why are you talking to me?”
“Well… you see, I recognize you. A while ago, before the war ended, there was a moment that has been haunting me ever since…”
Azula isn’t sure that she is following.
“And I had a few questions.”
“Such as?”
“You are princess Azula, right?”
She nods, though she wishes that she weren’t.
“And you did attend Chan’s beach party, right? That was you? The weirdo who laughs really loud and sets kuai ball nets on fire?”
Azula’s frown deepens. “What of it?”
“I just wanted to know why you put that drink on my head.”
“Your hands were full, where else was I supposed to put it?” It was quite simple really.
The girl laughs, “you could have held onto it or set it on some random table or something.”
She clears her throat, “your head was more convenient.”
“I...I guess…?” she laughs again. She stands up and for some reason Azula’s heart sinks. She thought that she might not be lonely tonight, but the girl has her answers and now she is...she is extending her hand out? Azula furrows her brows. “Do you know how to dance, princess?”
“I haven’t had a chance or a reason to learn.”
“It’s not that different from firebending, I’ll teach you a little something.” She offers.
If she knows what is good for her, she would stay out of the spotlight, keep attention well away from herself. The last thing that she needs is the entire party watching her decrepit body running clumsily through dance moves that she should have learned prior to attending. But she doesn’t want to be alone tonight. She isn’t sure what she will do if she is left alone…
She takes the girl’s hand. Azula doesn’t really want the attention. Not at all. The less eyes that take in her less than pleasing aesthetic, the better. But Seicho is a loud one. A bold one. And when she dips Azula back and pulls her up in time with the music for a third time she makes an announcement.
“I’m lucky!” She declares. “I have the prettiest dance partner in the room.”
She brushes Azula’s bangs out of her face--even, well trimmed bangs. Long bangs. And suddenly the illusion shatters. Suddenly her skin is soft with an even complexion. Suddenly her eyes aren’t so heavy and tired. Her frame is fuller and her lips uncracked. She remembers that she hasn’t been haggard and unhealthy in quite some time now. She remembers that sometimes things get distorted in her mind, that the past may layer itself over the future. She remembers that she is no longer fourteen and bound in chains. No longer sixteen and freshly emerging from an institution, exhausted and low.
She remembers that she is happy. This time when she looks in the mirror, the face that stares back at her is from the present; well groomed, healthy, and lively--albeit on the tired side tonight.
“Are you alright?” Seicho asks.
She thinks that she is, she is just...lightly disoriented. She needs a chance for her mind to catch back up to the present.  “I want to sit down for a moment.”
“Sure, princess.” Seicho replies, she guides Azula into a chair. “Would you like a drink?”
Azula nods.
They don’t hate her. Most people don’t. Most people are as indifferent as they ought to be. And they eyes that fall upon her aren’t judgmental, they are curious more than anything. She still isn’t a particularly social person, paradoxically, it is an invitation for more attention when she does attend parties.
Seicho holds out the glass, “just put it on the table this time, not my head, okay.”
“I think that I can manage.” She sips at the drink as the pieces shift back into place. She supposes that she should have known that she was having an off day when she overheard Zuko ask TyLee and Mai to keep an eye on her.
“So, what’s going on?” Seicho asks.
“Sometimes I…” She sets her drink aside. “Things get mixed up.” She points at her head. “I’m sure that you’ve heard by now…”
“Bits and pieces.” Seicho admits.
“Sometimes it feels like…” she furrows her brows, trying to articulate it. “Sometimes I go back to some of my worst days. Sometimes it’s full scale--I’m alone and I don’t have any friends. It feels like it anyhow. Other times it’s more of a blend.”
“A blend?”
“I know that they,” she gestures to the others, “are my friends.” It still feels strange to say, likely that is exactly what makes it so easy to forget when her head is not clear. “But I still feel like I did just after I was transferred to that facility.” Sometimes the image is so vivid in her mind that it appears in the mirror.
Seicho nods. “That sounds frightening.”
“I’m used to it.” It is a lie to make things less tense. Pity makes her uncomfortable anyhow.
“And that happened tonight?”
Azula nods. “It is a relief to know that I’m not a scraggly mess.” That she isn’t ugly and embarrassing to be around.
“It’s fine to be a scraggly mess sometimes.” Seicho replies.
“You didn’t see my haircut.” She grumbles.
“I’m sure that it was cute.” Seicho insists, ruffling her hair. “You have a pretty face, you can make it work.”
She shakes her head, “not then I didn’t.”
Seicho quirks a skeptical brow. She changes her approach. “Alright, fine, let’s say that you’re right…”
“I am right.”
“My point still stands. It’s okay to be a mess every now and again.” As if to accent her point she ruffles Azula���s hair entirely out of place. Azula grimances, this is something that she is still working on. Something that leaves her jittery.
“How about this?” Seicho offers. “You leave your hair like this for the rest of the night. If people treat you like shit for it then you can stick with your ridiculous standards.
“Ridiculous!?”
Seicho nods, “yes, ridiculous.”
Azula opens her mouth to protest. Seicho puts a finger to her lips. “You know what I think?”
Azula sighs, she has heard it so many times before from so many people from her therapist to TyLee. “That I’m perfect the way I am.”
Seicho crinkles her brows in disgust. “No! I think that you aren’t perfect, but it doesn’t really matter. You don’t have to be. If someone really loves or cares about you, they’ll look at your ugly haircut and decide that they like your pretty eyes enough to stay. They’ll acknowledge that you are uptight and cranky but they’ll stick around because you’re really smart and loyal.”
Azula swallows. “You’ve known me for maybe an hour…”
“And you leave some strong first impressions.” Seicho shrugs. “I was hoping that we can talk more after the party and I can see if I’m right.”
Azula’s stomach flutters. She has never been asked on a date before and she certainly hadn’t anticipated that to happen tonight. Agni knows that her lost and hurt fourteen year old self could have never conceptualized such a thing.
“That would be nice, Seicho.”
The girl grins. “Wonderful! Are you up for another dance?”
She lets the girl lead her back onto the dancefloor. Hair messy, dress slightly disheveled. And yet she feels much more confident than she had when she’d initially walked into the party.
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