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#suki made the first move with him and yue ended in heartbreak
petricorah · 1 year
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just some casual early morning fishing and some not-so-casual evening pining after your best friend
mini explanation of how this would take place if it were a prequel to the dangers of not confessing comic
After ozai’s defeat, they finally take a break and go on the fishing trip they lied about. And it’s amazing, and fun, and Zuko’s heart is aching throughout every second of it. Because he’s drowning under the weight of his impending duties as firelord. He has Responsibilities. But all he wants to do is be with Sokka and have the time relaxing with the people he cares about, actions that he was deprived of during his youth. And Sokka’s about to be halfway across the world, back at his home, where he belongs. And it would be selfish to ask Sokka to stay. And even more selfish to tell him how he feels when he knows soon the trip will be over, and it will never work between them, and Sokka probably doesn’t even feel the same way. So he stays silent. 
And misses his chance.
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jaxsteamblog · 3 years
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Cherry Blossoms
Click here to read the entire fic on AO3
For dinner, the family stayed in the large estate near to the village. The festival had attracted the Air Nomads for years, and this time they brought along the workers from the oilrig for a well-earned reprieve. All that meant Katara and Zuko couldn’t always be out in public or else they’d be swarmed.
And Katara wasn’t keen on getting attacked or kidnapped again, especially when she was in such a good mood.
“So what do you think of the festivities, Zuko?” Malina asked as she and Hakoda brought out large platters of food. Sokka followed after them with a covered tureen that still couldn’t contain the smell of seaprune stew.
“It’s been amazing. I have a weakness for festivals like this though.” Zuko replied.
“The kind that won’t piss off the spirits if you do them wrong, you mean?” Sokka asked, setting the tureen down on the table.
Katara leaned over and plucked off the lid, breathing in the steam. It smelled right for once.
“Who made this?” She asked, looking around. Hakoda opened his mouth but, looking past her, quickly shut it.
“It’s Gran-Gran’s recipe, Kat. Don’t worry.” Sokka interjected, picking up a ladle and slopping a generous scoop into a bowl. She narrowed her eyes at him but took it.
“Do you have a favorite festival?” Suki asked.
“Does it have to be Fire Nation?” Zuko asked in return.
“No?” Suki looked confused and Zuko leaned over to look in Katara’s bowl.
“I only ask because my favorite is an Earth Kingdom one. But I do have one I like a lot in Caldera.” He said and started pulling the bowl. Katara shoved it over and returned to the tureen.
“Let’s hear the favorite.” Suki said.
“I can’t remember what it’s called because I only got to see it when I was a kid.” Zuko started, picking up a spoon. “I must’ve been really young because my cousin was…”
Zuko smiled sadly and focused on the seaprune stew.
“Anyway, my mother had taken Azula and I to visit my uncle and a festival was going on when we got there. My cousin took my sister and I out to attend, and it was a lot of fun. The cherry blossoms were in peak bloom and there were picnics and tea; I knew it was probably my uncle’s favorite festival too.
“But at night, the town had set up these lights under the trees and you could walk around this garden looking at them. When the sun had fully set, other lights went on and they made sculptures with them. It blew my tiny little mind.” Zuko explained.
“So, a colony.” Hakoda said.
Katara sat up, but Zuko nodded.
“Yes.” He answered and looked back at Hakoda.
“I think,” Malina said slowly, resting her hand on Hakoda’s arm. “We can all appreciate what Zuko went through to end up here with us.”
Hakoda looked at Katara’s face and grumbled.
“My favorite is Avatar Day.” Suki stated, loudly clattering food onto a plate. Katara relaxed, rolling her eyes.
“We’re lucky Thuy’s not here.” Zuko said.
“That’d only be a problem if Katara said it was her favorite.” Sokka corrected.
“Oh for sure.” Suki said, drawing out her accent for effect. “Zuko can never leave Katara or else Thuy will smack him down.”
“Like she did his dad.” Sokka quipped and Zuko burst with a laugh.
“What’s your favorite festival, Sokka?” Malina asked.
“Love Day.” Suki and Katara shouted together and started laughing. Sokka groaned with loud exaggeration and Malina laughed lightly.
“I don’t like most festivals if they have fireworks. Those bug me.” He did say, tearing his flatbread into shreds.
“I like the solstice stuff. I get a kick out of how serious everyone gets when in reality they’re talking about Yue and my bratty sister.” He said finally and Katara launched a seaprune at him.
“What about you, Malina? Hakoda?” Zuko asked.
“Anything with good food is the best in my opinion.” Hakoda answered gruffly.
“Mine is similar to Zuko’s, actually. But I lived in the northern part of the Earth Empire and I think what you were talking about is in the south.” Malina said.
“Cherry blossoms bloom all the way up there?” Zuko questioned.
“Not natively, but for a long time the trees were a common gift the kings would send to each other. You can find them dotted all over capitals but only in the south are they everywhere.” Malina explained.
“They’re really something.” Zuko said.
“Oh yes. They reminded me of the North Pole, or at least, how my parents talked about the North Pole.” Malina said in a rush.
“Flowers?” Zuko asked.
“What about them?” Sokka snapped.
“How are they at all like the North Pole?” Zuko asked, bewildered.
Sokka looked over and met Malina’s eye, making Katara frown.
“I mean, have you actually looked at snow?” Sokka asked, turning to Zuko.
“You are clearly Piandao’s favorite.” Zuko murmured and Sokka scoffed.
“My parents would always talk about the North Pole when it snowed. Maliq and I would go crazy seeing how little it snowed inside Ba Sing Se, and how quickly the snowplows would come through.” Malina laughed and tapped Hakoda’s arm. “We were not prepared for coming back home.”
“Did you know that some places pickle cherry blossoms and make tea out of it?” Sokka asked and Zuko choked on his soup.
“Oh spirits what.” Sokka croaked.
Katara patted Zuko’s back and shrugged.
“Apparently it’s a wedding sort of tea and Iroh gave it to Zuko and me a while back.” She said.
“I was trying so hard not throw myself at you at that point too.” Zuko said, wiping his eyes.
“Excuse me?” Hakoda interrupted sharply and Malina snorted.
“Well, turns out you’re married by swamp standards so we should probably go pick up some more.” Sokka said.
“Excuse me?” Hakoda repeated.
“We have to get married before them, really.” Suki said, looking at Sokka.
“We should probably elope then, because at this rate they’ll be married twice over.” He said.
“Now hold on…” Hakoda leaned over the table and Zuko put his arm around Katara.
“We’re going backwards through the Avatar cycle. We just have to figure out which temple Aang was born at so we can get hitched there.” He said.
“No.” Hakoda said firmly, and everyone turned to him. “Both of my children are getting married in the South Pole.”
“Dad, we were just kidding.” Sokka said.
Hakoda sighed and leaned back.
“I know.” He said.
“And Suki and I are getting married in Kyoshi.” Sokka added.
Hakoda sputtered and even Katara turned to stare at Sokka. Her brother took Suki’s hand and stared down at their rings.
“I hate being in the Poles.” He said softly.
“What?” Hakoda and Katara shouted.
“O-kay.” Zuko stood up, jostling the table. “I’m taking Sokka to show me the penguins.”
“I can fight my own battles!” Sokka protested, but Suki also stood and the two of them grabbed either of his shoulders.
“I love you man, but I am trying to keep my future wife and father-in-law from hating my guts.” Zuko muttered as he and Suki started dragging him out of the room.
“That’s not my problem! Hey wait the stairs guys wai-” Sokka’s voice was cut off by the sound of chaotic thudding.
“So, Katara, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Malina asked.
Katara lowered her face into her hands and groaned.
~
“Cherry blossoms, huh?” Katara asked, laying on her back and looking up at Zuko.
Zuko’s long hair acted like a curtain as he propped himself over her. He was doing what he normally did when they were able to sleep together; trying to see which parts of her were ticklish as he lightly kissed her.
“They’re pretty.” He said with his lips against her shoulder.
“And very dainty.” Katara added.
“I’m not in love with cherry blossoms, Katara.” Zuko murmured, moving down to her collarbone.
“I’m just saying.”
“And I’m just saying. Though it would be nice to see you in a bath with some cherry blossoms. Seeing them stick to your skin.” Zuko laid himself on her and went back to her neck. “Mmmmm.”
“You just constantly run hot don’t you?” Katara said with a laugh threading through her words.
“You should have seen me as a young man.” Zuko said, pushing himself up to look directly at her. “And when I was plagued with thoughts of a very mysterious spirit.”
“You’re still a young man.” Katara retorted, putting her hands on his chest.
“Did you ever think of me?” Zuko asked.
“The Blue Spirit?”
“Yeah.”
Katara paused then, trying to recollect. Her memory was shoddy at best, and some events were warped by time and trauma.
She remembered her first kiss with Haru before staging a prison break to rescue his father. She remembered seeing Yue in the moonlight and knew love and heartbreak in the same moment as she saw Sokka’s face. She remembered digging her nails into Jet as if she could mold him into something else.
And she remembered the vigilante that she could never figure out.
“I used to dream about running into you over and over again in the war. We’d fight the same villains, we’d tease each other because we are always suspicious, and you would unmask yourself while proclaiming your eternal love for me.” Katara said.
“Funny, I always imagined the same thing.” Zuko said.
“I would never have unmasked.” Katara scoffed.
“There’d be no need.” Zuko said with a smile and then lowered himself again. “I told you that you sweat your stripes off.”
“Zuko!”
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redrobin-detective · 5 years
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*sees your posts on Zukka* You. Keep talking. (Listen I love this a lot)
Listen, the Sokka/Zuko friendship was always one of my favorite platonic relationships in the series but in my latest dip into atla, my brain suddenly decided to focus on Zukka.
The boys start out shy, neither really willing to admit that they may be feeling that sort of thing for another boy, for a friend, for a former enemy. But as time passes and reality that they may very well die fighting the Fire Lord closes in on them, they decide to take the risk and take the plunge. Their love is subtle, it’s found in extended sword practices that end with gentle touches to bruised skin, its seen when Sokka grabs Zuko’s hand to show him something and “forgets” to let go, its that comfortable, slightly dreamy eyed look Zuko gets when Sokka begins going into one of his crazy plans. Despite the threat of looming death over them, they feel happy and content in each others company.
But then Sozins Comet blazes, Fire Lord Ozai falls and Fire Lord Zuko rises. Suddenly they’re not two dumb runaway teen boys in the woods where no one else can see them, now they’re leaders and war heroes standing there on the world’s stage. Now the gentle relationship, one that’s just getting onto its feet, is no longer a source of comfort but of stress and anxiety. Zuko only wants what’s best for his Nation and falling in love with a Water Tribe Chief’s son is not what was needed for stability in a wartorn nation. Sokka feels strangled by Zuko’s new position (a painful reminder of Yue’s own entrapment prior to her death) not to mention his terror when he realizes just how many people want to new Fire Lord dead.
They bicker back and forth about what to do. Sokka, for once, is the emotional one. He loves Zuko and he won’t let war or peace or anything in-between keep them apart. “I’ll just move to the Fire Nation and be your Fire Lady” Sokka says flippantly but his eyes are dead serious. Zuko is torn apart because the idea of waking up every day to Sokka sleeping next to him tangled in silken red sheets is as close to heaven as he can imagine. But the Fire Nation needs to be united now more than ever, he needs a noble woman by his side and legitimate heirs to secure his position. As much as his heart wants to be with Sokka, he knows it cannot be. “Maybe if it were a hundred years ago, or a hundred years from now,” Zuko responds exhausted from carrying the weight of disappointment in his heart. “But things are delicate right now, we can’t start another war.”
They go back and forth for months, Sokka slaves over a betrothal necklace made of volcanic glass and offers it to Zuko on bended knee. With all the willpower of someone who is all too used to self-inflicted suffering, Zuko turns down the offer but keeps the necklace. He stores it in the locked drawer by his desk and pulls it out during moments when he can’t help but ask ‘what if’. Eventually it comes to a head, both men sit down and take each others hands and discuss their future.
“I know you want this now but imagine in 2, 5, 10 years,” Zuko pleads, stroking his thumb across Sokka’s tanned hands. “You’ll see the Fire Nation as it is, with all the warts that have grown in the past 100 years without the fond tolerance of someone who grew up there. You’d remember that we are the people who killed your mother, tried to kill your entire culture. One day, you’ll look at me and remember that I am one of them and suddenly find yourself trapped in a country you hate but promised to serve and all because of me. I can’t let you do that, to yourself or to my people.” It’s a heartbreaking but eye-opening conversation. Zuko cannot leave his position and Sokka would be miserable as a Lord in the Fire Nation. They hold each other one last night, their last kiss long and meaningful to imprint the taste of each other on their lips and then pull back for the final time.
Zuko marries first, a woman he really likes and can help solidify his nation. Sokka is there the whole time, sad but also weirdly happy at the dopey loving look on Zuko’s face that used to be only for him. He thinks its called healing. They imagined the break-up being so much worse but they simply shifted back to their sword fighting without kisses afterward and gentle teasing though not draped across one another. Suddenly it was less of a burden to be together, no more worrying about being caught doing something compromising or the fate of their future. They were free to be Zuko and Sokka again, people who really, really enjoyed the others company. 
They remain the best of friends for the rest of their days. Sure they look at each sometimes with more heart than they need to and sometimes Chief Sokka will still reach for Fire Lord Zuko’s hand and “forget” to let it go for an extra few seconds, as if his muscle memory still thought they were dirty kids in a dirty war. Their wives and friends will exchange fond looks when these slip-ups happen, love that strong never quite goes away, simply finds new ways to blossom. So maybe the servants are extra attentive to the Southern Water Chief when he visits and former Chief Hakoda slaps the Fire Lord warmly on the back as he would his own son. 
Zuko is there the day Sokka dies, young and far too soon. The Lord of Fire cries as he hadn’t since his Uncle had passed not too long before. He tries not to cry too often, not just for appearances but because the tears that run from his burnt eye sear and sting with unimaginable pain. But that pain seems paltry compared to the beating ache of his heart as his best friend and one of the loves of his life lays dying. 
“I thought you bent fire not water,” Sokka quips, still following their usual script even at the end. He suddenly breaks pretense and holds Zuko’s pale hand to his cheek, leaning in to kiss the worn and wrinkled palm. Its a ghost of what could have been and even decades later both men still wondered what would have happened if Zuko had chosen to wear that necklace instead of hiding it away in a drawer. “Thank you for letting me love you.”
“I’m sorry I turned you down, I wanted it so badly, back then you were all I ever wanted-” Zuko says through shaking sobbing tears, all breath control, and control in general, lost in the face of the inevitable.
“You walrus-seal brain,” Sokka smirks, “I loved you when we were friends, when we were lovers, when we were fellow rulers, when we were husbands and fathers; I love you now when you’re gross and dripping snot everywhere. We didn’t lose anything Zuko, we still had each other and we were still happy. Not a bad way to live a life.”
“No, I guess not,” Zuko responds, leaning down to brush his lips against Sokka’s forehead. He no longer had claim to the other man’s lips but it felt less like a tragedy compared to the decades they’d had side by side as friends. One form of love wasn’t superior to another, it just meant you got to be with someone in a whole new way. “I’ll send your wife and daughters in. Goodbye my love, say hi to Aang and Uncle for me.” 
He spent that night huddled beside Suki, Katara and Toph as another of their own left them. He grieved the loss of large hands grabbing his arm, the clang of clashing swords, that sarcastic southern drawl Sokka never quite grew out of. But he did not lament the past. They had, in the end, made the best choice for themselves and their respective countries. When they’d been young, love had been about giggling kisses and wandering hands but love, real love, was not defined by its physicality. It grew when two souls drifted together and in the space between them built a home. And so long as he breathed, that home he’d made in his heart between himself and Sokka would always be lit and warm.
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