#zuko drabble

[hanasnx]

so.. hot take fix idea..

fire lord zuko would totally try to fuck you anywhere.. i mean, who’d stop him? from the garden balconies to the throne room or even dining room and study.. it’s very evident that he loves you to everyone around and isn’t afraid to let anyone else know it either.

MINORS DNI 18+

"Zuko," you chide under your breath, shying away from ZUKO's lips that brush the sensitive skin of your neck. "Compose yourself." you hushed instruction is paid no heed as he presses himself into your back, pinning you between the railing and his body.

His lowered voice washes warm breath over your ear, sending chills down your spine, "How can I? I can't keep my hands off you." It's in poor taste for the Fire Lord to express such ardent desire so publicly, the balcony overlooking the courtyard is hardly the most inconspicuous place to do it. Even through his layers of robing, you can feel a familiar prodding, and you gasp when his teeth bite into your flesh to distract you. "No one's around." he expresses as if it's encouragement instead of a thinly veiled ploy. It's part of the thrill for him.

The official dressings you wear are inaccessible, you're unsure of how he'll proceed without baring you entirely for the world to see. When his hands grab at the fabrics, bunching them up to inch them higher you reach back to catch him. "Zuko!" you whisper indignantly, glancing at him from over your shoulder. He leans in, furthering you over the balcony from his weight as he steals a grinning kiss from you.

"A quick one, my love. If anyone so much as looks in your direction I'll skin them alive." The barbaric threat is entirely to make you dissolve into giggles as a distraction, moving aside the expensive silks so he can get at what he knows is waiting for him underneath.

[seumyo]

ZUKO ✰ 5:36

NOTE. Implied that reader and Zuko are engaged, and reader is a woman in this one!

“Relax,” you whispered, nudging his side. “You’re clenching your jaw.”

“I’m not,” he muttered, though he immediately loosened it. “People are staring.”

“They’re always staring,” you said breezily. “But right now they’re more interested in the fresh chili sesame buns over there, I promise.”

Zuko glanced over and saw a baker pulling golden, round buns from a clay oven, steam curling in the last golden slants of sunlight. His stomach made a small, treacherous sound.

You grinned. “Hungry?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m managing,” he corrected.

You were already pulling him toward the stall, the ring on your finger cool against his arm. The sensation sends a small flutter to his chest, like a butterfly occupying the space without rent. “You’re getting a bun.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you had already waved at the vendor. “Hi, Auntie Yin! Two sesame buns, please—and an extra one with chili if they’re still warm?”

The older woman squinted, then lit up with recognition. “[Name], you’re back! And you brought your prince again.”

Auntie Yin's husband cleared his throat. “Isn’t it Firelord, technically—”

“Pfft,” Auntie Mei waved him off with a flour-dusted hand. “Not when you’re standing in my bread line, young man.”

You laughed, leaning into Zuko as you accepted the little bundle of warm bread. “You see why I come back here?”

Just as he was about to hand in some coins, you had stopped his hand mid-way. He looked at you with a small pout, definitely confused.

“Zuko, no.”

“But—“

“We’re going to fight over this, so no.”

“I don’t like arguing with you,” he murmurs.

You pat his hand solemnly. “I know,” you say. “So I’m paying. End of story.”

He didn’t answer anything else until you raised the bun for him to take the first bite. It was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery in the middle, with little black sesame seeds clinging to his lips, the spice just right to not overpower the actual buttery taste. He closed his eyes briefly.

“I remember this,” he said. “I used to sneak out with my uncle, and we’d get these. He used to say—” His voice caught slightly, swallowing with a pleased nod. “—he used to say the best food in the Fire Nation was always on the street, never behind palace walls.”

Your smile softened.

“He was right.”

You wandered deeper into the market, weaving between stalls draped with silks, lanterns, and every kind of fried thing imaginable. People bumped into each other without apology, children shouted as they chased each other with little wooden dragons, and somewhere nearby, a flute player added a gentle melody to the thick scent of roasted peanuts and smoke.

Zuko tilted his head slightly. “You know all of them.”

You shrugged. “Grew up here. Before my family moved to the coast, we lived two blocks down.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm. That stall with the yellow lanterns? That used to be where I bought pickled plums on my way home from school. And that guy—” you pointed to a tall man flipping meat over a roaring fire—“used to give me extra sticks if I said please and didn’t rat him out to his wife for snacking while he cooked. Kind guy, really. Just had a habit of snacking, not that I can blame him because they're really good.”

Zuko looked at you with something like awe. “You never told me any of this.”

“I like keeping some mystery,” you teased, passing him a skewer of fire-grilled mushrooms glistening with glaze. “Try this one. You used to like mushrooms, right?”

“I still like mushrooms.”

“Then don’t make that face and eat it.”

He bit into it, reluctantly. The glaze was spicy, sweet, and smoky all at once. He blinked. “Okay, fine. That’s—really good.”

“Told you.”

You two kept walking, you pausing every so often to wave or chat or haggle for something small—an herbal tea, a dumpling wrapped in banana leaf, or dried fruit you tucked into the folds of your sleeve for later. Zuko stayed mostly quiet, watching you, feeling the tension in his chest unwind inch by inch. Your laugh was infectious, the kind that made other people smile without realizing it. More than once, he found himself smiling too, caught off guard by the sound.

At one point, you dragged him over to a table surrounded by children and old men playing tile games.

“[Name], my girl!” one of them called, holding up a tile. “Still cheating at dragon tiles?”

“Only when you let me win,” you said with a wink.

Zuko stood beside you, bemused. “You’ve played dragon tile in public?”

“She won in public,” one of the elders cackled. “Took my whole snack allowance for the week.”

You handed over a few coins with a mock-guilty face. “Here, I owe you for that.”

“Isn’t there a law that states it’s illegal to play mahjong in public?”

...

"I don't know, is there?"

Before he could dwell on the thought for too long, you had already been ushering Zuko to the next stop. “You’ve been in more street fights than I have.”

“You’d be surprised what people will bet when they think a girl in ribbons doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“I think I married a con artist.”

You gave him a pleased smile. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

You rounded a quieter corner of the market as the last of the sun dipped behind the rooftops. Lanterns glowed in the gathering dusk, and music trickled through the air. You led him to a little bench tucked between two carts, one selling sticky rice and the other spiced nuts. You flopped down with a sigh, tugging him beside you.

For a while, you two just sat.

Zuko leaned back, watching the lanterns sway in the breeze.

“This was… good.”

You bumped your shoulder against his. “You don’t always have to be Firelord, you know.”

“I kind of do,” he said, but it was quiet.

“You kind of don’t. Not with me, at least.”

He turned to look at you. “I don’t think I ever realized how much I missed this kind of quiet.”

You hummed. “That’s what I’m here for. To remind you.”

Zuko hesitated for a moment, then rested his hand on yours, lacing your fingers together, his finger idly playing with the ring on yours. It's nice, he thinks, just being with you like this. The market was bustling around you, but for a moment, it all faded—just a man and his beloved, full of street food and soft lantern light, sharing a bench and a memory and the kind of peace he was still learning to let himself have.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[dollyfetti]

"can you just try?" your boyfriend gruffs, his tone gentle as he folds his arms. sitting across from you at a quiet cafe, his fingers lightly caress the back of your hand, sending a flutter through your chest. he's asking you— again— to order for yourself, just this once. he promised, "it'll feel good, trust me," but the thought of speaking up sends a shiver down your spine. you can't even remember the last time you asked for something from anyone.

"yeah, but it's their job to serve you..." he grunted with a tiny chuckle when you'd told him this the last time.

"i know, but i still feel bad..!" you muttered, twisting the hem of your maxi skirt around your fingers. he had grinned, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and let it go.

until now, of course.

he remembers when you were rambling to him one night, frustrated with how you could never speak up for yourself in any situation. you'd felt like a loser. (you are, but he refrained from saying so at the moment hehe)

"just try." he repeats, offering a rare, almost tender smile. you nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips in response. the waitress comes back, notepad in hand as she asks for your orders, starting with your boyfriend.

"mapu tofu— please." he says, closing his menu with a small nod as she takes it from him.

she smiles, turning her attention to you. your gaze drops back to the menu, but it feels like you’re studying it for the first time. “what would you like?” she hums.

"umm," you mumble breathily. you blink at the many food choices, even though you already know what you want.

"i'll have the.. kimbap, please." you speak lowly, your voice quiet and tentative. your hands cling to the fabric of your skirt, shoulders slightly hunched as you unintentionally try to make yourself smaller.

the waitress leans in slightly, smiling sweetly. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

you feel them both watching you and shrivel in your seat. you inhale sharply, looking up to meet the waitress's gaze before quickly looking back down. "kimbap." you repeat, your voice a little steadier now, though your nerves still tangle in your chest.

she nods, jotting it down before walking away, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you can't help but feel a little proud of yourself.

"jesus christ, felt like i was catching your introvertness." your boyfriend teases.

"shut up," you giggle, sliding your drink towards you.

"wasn't so bad, right?"

you shake your head, taking a sip of your drink as if it might help calm your racing heart.

"told ya so." he smirks, nudging your foot with his under the table

bakugou, aizawa, toji, zuko, eren, kuroo, + your favs !

[thief-of-eggs]

Thinking about how Zuko almost never laughs in canon. And how Sokka takes alot of his identity from being the “funny one”, the one who can always lighten a mood and make people smile.

Thinking about a Sokka who makes it his mission to get Zuko to even so much as smile. Laughter is his goal, but he’ll take even just a soft smile if he can get it.

He doesn’t know why it irks him so much, that smiles so rarely grace Zuko’s face, that laughter is so rarely heard from the teen Firelord.

But Sokka knows he wants to hear it. Needs to hear it. He can’t explain it- maybe it’s because Zuko is the one person who doesn’t so easily laugh at his jokes- but it becomes an obsession for him.

Over time, Sokka becomes the only person who can wheedle out a genuine laugh from Zuko. The only one who can ease his worry-lined face into softness, who can make a smile appear on his pressed thin lips.

Zuko starts to seek him out, whenever he’s feeling particularly worn down. When pressure sinks into his bones, when tension weighs on his shoulders like the goddamn earth itself- it’s Sokka’s easy smile and quick wit that he seeks.

Before long, they’re both spending every free second they can find in eachother’s company. Sokka stops trying to get Zuko to laugh just to feel better about himself- he starts trying to get him to laugh just because he loves the sound. And Zuko stops seeking Sokka out just because he knows he’ll feel a little calmer from his jokes- he seeks him out because he knows he’ll feel at peace from Sokka.

It’s slow, the way they fall in love. It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s not a flash, no collision that leaves them dazed.

It’s a snowball of little moments. It’s shared laughs and small smiles, it’s leaned on shoulders and quiet evenings where neither utters a word.

It’s slow, but that’s the kind of love that lasts. They wade into the water instead of diving straight in, and by the time they reach the deep end- they both find that they’ve learned how to swim.

[brotheramberland]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a platonic relationship with Zuko Levi Kakashi , Gojo with their child that’s like a totally a daddy’s kid(?😭) that wants be like them when they grow up and just looks up to them so much and just mimic the things they do and just follows them+how would they feel about it 🥹🫶

Anime characters as fathers with a child!reader.

Characters include: Zuko, Kakashi Hatake, Levi Ackerman, and Satoru Gojo.

Summary: The character's reaction to their child who looks up to them and aspires to be exactly like them.

Please keep in mind: All character and reader interactions are purely platonic. There is NO romance. The reader is somewhere below the age of twelve and is portrayed as non-binary. These drabbles are meant to be platonic, fluffy and comforting.

Notes: For @bellhella. Hi las, I hope you're doing grand. Cute request too, I enjoyed writing it. I added a tiny splash of angst but everything is still pretty fluffy. I try to make each individual drabble unique and different so that viewers can experience a variety of emotions. I hope that's alright. Remember to keep your head up, stay safe and stay awesome!

✿ೋ──────────────────────

Fire Lord Zuko

Ever since you were an infant, you had always clung to him and taken after him, claiming that you wanted to be just like him when you grew up. It was an attitude that Zuko found endearing and it made him beam with pride. After all of his past mistakes, a part of him was against your aspirations, but he wouldn't let his own insecurities get in the way of your dreams.

At a surprisingly young age- barely over your toddler years- you had requested to train. And train you did. Constantly you were trying your hardest to learn new maneuvers, techniques and skills. When you mastered something, you always sought his approval and praise. Zuko was impressed by how well you accepted constructive criticism and fought to grow.

During meetings or speeches, you would always sit back quietly and observe him. Then later Zuko would have to clear out rooms so that you could pretend like you were the fire lord giving hundreds of people a big, inspirational speech. Just like him.

Zuko, to say the least, was extremely proud of how you were growing and exceeding in life. He was just as attached to you as you were to him, and he would do anything to help you grow up to be healthier, happier and safer than he ever got to be during his childhood.

Today you had been training outside. Your father had been teaching you how to spit fire by using the strength of your stomach. Despite how strict and serious he could be, Zuko loved how you displayed your own ways of having fun. You say you want to be just like him, but you were also just so unmistakably 'you' and he loved that.

But today you did something that he didn't quite like.

"Daddy," You turned towards your father on the bench you were sitting on, "Will you... Will you burn my eye? The left one."

And the way your question made Zuko feel on the inside was far more painful than any lightning strike could ever be. He dropped his goblet and froze, unable to believe that you could ask such a thing. You wanted him to 'burn' you? Burn you in such a way similar to how he had been burned?

"Dad?" You asked in light concern.

Zuko shot up, his hair swishing as he went to stand in front of you, "You- don't you dare ask for something like that ever again. Do you hear me?"

Flinching, you gape and stutter in fear at his sudden outburst of anger, "I..." You didn't know what to say, "I-I'm sorry, I... I just wanted to be like you-"

"By wanting me to burn you? That's how you justify yourself right now? Nonsense. I will not tolerate this irrational behavior. If you ever ask me or anyone else to burn you again, then I swear on my life you will regret it, do you understand me?"

You couldn't believe he was so angry. You stiffened up, tears pouring out your eyes.

Zuko nearly shouted, his arms shaking, "I said 'do you understand me'?"

"Yes," You cried, burying your face in your hands, "I'm sorry, ok. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad, daddy, please-uhh... I'm sorry."

Breathing fast, Zuko stared at you and felt a sudden cloud of guilt envelope him, and he frowned in regret. He didn't mean to be so harsh, nor did he want you to cry. He just... He just couldn't stand the thought of you suffering in any of the ways he himself had to.

Calming down, Zuko took in a deep breath and went to kneel in front of you. He reached out, grabbed your hands and gently coaxed them away from your face, "I'm sorry."

Using a spare handkerchief, Zuko gently cleaned your teary eyes and running nose, "I didn't mean to get so angry with you. I was just... You have to understand, (y/n), not all parts of me are honorable, and that includes this mark. My father gave me this mark because he despised me, and... Well... I don't despise you, so even if I did burn you it wouldn't be the same. It would never be the same."

Zuko cupped your face and stroked his thumb over your left cheek, "Please know that I am grateful that we are not the same in this way, and I hope that we never will be."

"I'm sorry..." You croak, still ashamed of yourself, "I didn't know."

"It's okay," Zuko lifted his arms out, "It's okay. I'm not angry."

Standing up, you go to bury yourself into the divine safety of your father's arms, sadness still beating within your heart, "I love you, daddy."

Zuko smiled and hugged you close, "I love you too, (y/n), and I can't wait to see what an excellent fire lord you're going to become one day. Even greater than me."

You whimpered, still upset but lifted by his faith and understanding. You had made a mistake today, but it was okay. You would never do it again. And while you would like to be just like your father in every way that counts, there were some things that could never be the same no matter how similar the situation.

✿ೋ─────────

Levi Ackerman

He woke up to the obnoxious sensation of someone's hand shaking his shoulder, and he groaned grumpily in irritation. "Wake up, daddy," Your ridiculously energetic voice called, "Daddy, come on, it's time to get up."

Levi creaked open his eyes and glared at you, "Hey, wanna know how you can be just like me?"

"How?" You instantly beamed.

"By being tired and going back to sleep," Levi grumbled, grabbing the blankets and yanking them up over his head.

You weren't having any of it though, and you crawled on top of him and began wrestling to get the blanket off. Technically this was how Levi used to have to get you out of bed when you were smaller, but the more you grew the more you wanted to be 'just like him'.

Yay...

By the time you both had playfully wrestled each other out of bed, Levi yawned multiple times while being drug to the bathroom. Darn thing, you were getting good at locating his ticklish spots... In the bathroom, you both brushed your teeth, washed your faces and combed your messy hair.

Although half asleep, Levi still adored how you continously glanced at him to see how he was dressed, what he was doing and how he was doing it. You were always mimicking silly little things he did, exclaiming that you were practicing to be just like him.

Deep down, Levi had nothing but adoration for you. He loved the way you stood to be like him. It made him feel a sense of pride inside that he had such a strong, brave, loyal pipsqueak for a child, and you had no idea how much he loved you.

The only thing Levi disliked about you aspiring to him was how you ranted about joining the Survey Corps and going over the wall to fight titans. Now that... That made his overprotective, paternal instincts scream in disagreement. In no way did he want you going anywhere near the wall. So many people died out there all the time. If he lost you?

Levi wouldn't be able to handle it.

Before breakfast, you got dressed in nearly the exact same outfit as him (courtesy of Hange). "Daddy, can I wear your cape-thingy?" You asked, already wrapped up in his cape.

"Well what do you expect me to wear?" Levi asked, soaking in the endearing display of you all twisted up in his cape.

"I don't know..." You mumble innocently, smiling, "A blanky?"

"Ha... ha... Very funny, squirt," Levi bent down to untangle you from his cape, bopping you on the nose and pinching your cheek, "Why don't I wear this and 'you' go wear the blanket."

"Mmm..." You pouted at him, "But daddy..."

Levi hid a smile and patted your head fondly, "What if I told you that I used to do the same thing when I was your age?"

"Really?" You asked in surprise. If he wore blankets when he was your age, then that meant that you could do the same thing- follow in his footsteps, "Yay!"

"I never said 'yay' though," Levi rolled his eyes, teasing you.

Your arms dropped as you sneered at him, reacting in a manner he would approve of, "Booo..."

"That's more like it," Levi chuckled and went to make some food.

After breakfast, you held your father's hand while walking to the training grounds, a small blanket secured around your neck to thus act like a cape. When you saw the leader of the Survey Corps, you instantly brightened and cheered, "Erwin!"

Erwin looked in your direction and smiled warmly, "Ah, there's my finest cadet."

Levi watched as you sprinted happily up to his leader, his heart skipping beats when Erwin picked you up and lifted you into the air a bit. Your smile and the sound of your laughter was the inspirational fuel that powered his life.

Blindly joining you and his leader, Levi shrugged and gave you a disapproving look, "Just so you know... I've never hugged that imbecile- not once."

Erwin raised a brow, "On the contrary, I remember once when-"

Levi gave him a death glare, "Dont. Even."

You giggled and said joyfully, "Daddys silly. He loves hugs."

"Yes, that is correct," Erwin chuckled and turned briefly to grab something out of the satchel on his horse. "Come, fellow cadet, I brought you something."

"What is it?" You asked.

Levi felt his chest nearly implode at the sight of a miniature cape. The cape itself was plain with no logo, but yet was perfect enough in size that it would fit you for years to come. He watched as Erwin helped replace the blanket you were wearing with it.

Once he was done, you hugged Erwin, thanked him a dozen times, and then ran over to your father, "Daddy, daddy look! I have a cape, an-and it's just like the one you have. Do you like it, daddy? Do I look like you?"

'The spitting image.' Levi smirked and knelt down, "What're you talking about, squirt? You've got way too much energy to be like me."

"Booo," You pouted at him.

Levi laughed and pulled you into a big hug, "It looks good on you, kid. Now, let's get training."

You would be like him one day. Only Levi believed that you would be better.

✿ೋ─────────

Kakashi Hatake

It was night time; five hours after the Chunin Exams were declared over. You were currently hiding in your little tree-bungalow, isolated, quiet and shut-off from the rest of the world. Ever since you lost the exam, you hadn't moved from your hidey-hole nor spoken to anyone.

It broke Kakashi's heart to see you this upset. He knew how hard you had been training to keep up with him, following him in his footsteps and mimicking specific personality traits like his attire and the way he fought. At first it was a habit Kakashi thought was pretty adorable, but as the seriousness of your obsession grew over the years, the more he began to grow concerned.

Kakashi didn't mind you taking after him, but there was a limit. You didn't understand it because you envied him too much, but he saw it. You weren't like him- at least not when it came down to your fighting spirit. See, Kakashi developed a cold heart at a young age. Anger, hatred and determination pushed him to become stronger.

But you weren't cursed with anger, hate and sadness. You weren't a natural born fighter. If anything, Kakashi could see you becoming a strong-willed medic or a superior ginjutsu artist, but definitely not anyone who wants to hurt another person physically. It just wasn't how you were. And Kakashi was grateful for that.

Sighing softly, Kakashi jumped up to the ledge of your tree-bungalow, crouching as he waved, "Hey, dongo."

You didn't say anything from where you laid on the wooden floor. Kakashi frowned at the sight of your multiple bruises and bloody bandages. He really shouldn't have let you take that exam. "Can I come in?"

You nodded.

Kakashi moved a ways in further, finding himself a spot against the wall and leaning against it, "How are you feeling?"

For a few seconds you didn't answer. Kakashi tilted his head in concern when he noticed that you were shaking, the sound of sniffles soon filling the air, "I... I... I'm a failure, daddy."

You looked at him, your mask a mess as you sobbed behind it, "I'm a failure-uh! I-I-I just wanted-uh- t-to be like you..."

"Whoa, hey, it's okay," Kakashi leaned forward, placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed softly, "It's okay, (y/n). You're not a failure."

"Yes I am," You whined, "You passed the Chunin Exams when 'you' were six, b-but I? I... How am I supposed to be like you now, daddy?"

This? This is what broke Kakashi's heart. You getting upset all because you failed to amount to a broken monster like him. "Oh, dongo, come here," Kakashi lifted his arms out.

You still cried as you crawled into your father's lap and leaned against the warmth and safety of his chest. He slipped a finger up and tugged your mask down to your chin thus making it easier to breathe. You whimpered, clinging to him as shame blurred your heart.

"I wanna talk to you about something," Kakashi held you securely while going to wipe your nose with his sleeve, "I understand why you're trying so hard to follow in my footsteps, but I believe that your ambitions are misguided."

"What... What do you mean?" You ask him sadly, confused, "I wanna be like you."

"I know, but perhaps you are trying a little too hard? I mean, you've even gotten to the point you won't eat the food 'you' love anymore all because it's not my preference."

"But... That's how I be like you, daddy," You exclaim.

Kakashi sighed, looking you in your big, teary eyes. He couldn't believe that it had come down to this, but he couldn't hold it in any longer, "(y/n)... I don't want you to be like me. I want you to be like you."

You jerked at that, gaping hurtfully, "What?"

"I know it sounds harsh, but I want you to know that what I'm saying to you right now is in no way meant to hurt you. I just want you to stop pushing yourself so hard to be something you're not. Yes, we are alike in many ways, but we're also different. And those differences are what make us unique- they define who we are and how we grow. And if you continue to grow ignoring all those important things about yourself, pretending to be something you're not, then I fear that you'll never be completely happy. "

You blinked at him, fiddling slowly with your hands and bowing your head, "I..."

Kakashi cupped your face, lifted your chin and wiped away your tears, "You failed the exams today because you weren't ready, (y/n). You're using fighting techniques that don't suit you because they're 'mine'. You haven't even tried to discover your own fighting skills yet. Haven't you ever been curious?"

"But..." More tears began leaking out of your eyes as you looked at him, "I-I love you so much and I... I wanna be just like you-huh."

"(y/n)," Kakashi said lovingly as he pressed your foreheads together, "You can still be just like me by doing the things that make 'you' happy. I'm a great ninja, and you can be one too if you simply try to be more like you instead of me. No matter what, just know that I'll always, always be proud of you and love you till the day my chakra runs out."

You sniffed at him, still upset by your failure but relieved that your father still loved you despite it all. Yes, you wanted to be just like him, but maybe being yourself sometimes too wasn't such a bad thing either.

✿ೋ─────────

Satoru Gojo

When people looked at you, they felt as if they were looking at a miniature Gojo but with a different hair color. You were quite literally the spitting image of your father, and anyone who knew you or Gojo personally would know that you two were practical besties.

Ever since you were born, you magically seemed to take after Gojo- not that it was your fault because Gojo had a really bad habit of dressing you up like him and pretending that you were the world's greatest sorcerer... Besides him, of course. He couldn't help it. You were his little pal and he loved you more than anything.

As you grew, you pretty much wore identical outfits to that of your father. You had even acquired a pair of reflective sunglasses that you wore almost ninety-percent of the time. But outfits weren't the only areas where you excelled in being like him.

Gojo, even as a parent, wasn't afraid to push people to their limits, especially when they genuinely wanted to become stronger. Ever since your powers developed, he had trained you constantly in order to help you learn and grow. You were exceptional like him, and he knew that there was no time to waste.

Your father pretty much took you everywhere and that even included trips on his most dangerous missions. He would carry you on his hip or back while you watched and listened to him explain how to observe and take down enemies. Later he would quiz you, tossing toys or pieces of candy at you in reward.

Some say that Gojo wasn't so much a father to you as he was a best friend. Especially on days when he didn't have to work or train. He happily expressed his childish side, playing games with you, playing dress-up, going to carnivals, riding on miniature scooters, cooking or coloring pictures. He did it all. It was almost as if he loved being like you as much as you loved being like him.

Every time you expressed your admiration and love for him, Gojo's ego was stroked and his confidence boosted. Of course you wanted to be like him. Why wouldn't you? Narcissistic nature aside, Gojo had to admit that there was a sense of self-worth that he felt deep inside at the fact that you loved him and took after him so strongly. It made him happy. He was always proud of you.

And today he was even more proud of you.

You had just successfully made your very first domain expansion- it was rough, unstable and destructive, and it only lasted a few tiny seconds, but it was still a success. A success... That nearly destroyed the house.

Fushiguro, his cereal now all over the floor in ruins, sat in his chair with a frustrated glare on his face, "What kind of monster have you created?"

Gojo was practically dancing like a feather in the wind, singing excitedly, "One that can make domains at (age) years old."

"Oh brother..." Fushiguro rolled his eyes, gesturing to your unconscious body, "Shouldn't you be helping them?"

"Eh?" Gojo blinked ignorantly, concern flooding his body at the sight of you laying unresponsive on the floor, "Aw, we can't be having any of that now, can we?"

Teleporting over to your body, Gojo scooped you up and took you to the medical bay. It was soon confirmed that the force of your actions had merely knocked you out and given you a bloody nose. With a good lecturing from Nanami about "being a better parent", Gojo carried you back home with an endless grin on his face.

"Daddy?" You groaned in his arms.

Gojo gave you no time to talk as he leaned down and nuzzled your cheek, singing again, "Oh my incredible, amazing, talented, devilishly striking, little sorcerer, I'm so proud of you. You did your first domain expansion. Ohhh, I could cry I'm so happy."

Albeit exhausted, you still grinned in his arms and nuzzled his cheek back. It was always a good feeling to witness your father this excited after one of your successes went through. Still though, that move had taken a lot out of you. "Sleepy."

"I bet," Gojo chuckled, maneuvering you to his hip so that he could properly make his way through the mild debris of the house, "You've rightfully earned yourself a nice bath, a delicious meal, and a warm bed."

"With the heated blanky?" You softly croak.

Gojo stuck his thumb up, "Especially with the heated blanky. You've earned it."

"Thank you, daddy," You whimpered, hugging him and pressing the side of your face against his chest. His heartbeat was fast but comforting, his figure safe, warm and protective. You were so happy that you had managed to pull off such an advanced technique.

Prepping you a bath, Gojo let you wash while he was forced to clean up your mess by the ever fussy Fushiguro- aka: the real adult of the house. After you were both done, he fed you something that would soothe your tummy, and then carried you to bed.

Wrapping you up in your heated blanket, Gojo knelt down and caressed your head, "Good job today, my little jujutsu sorcerer. You really made daddy proud."

You whimpered happily and mumbled, "I hope I can do better. I wanna be just like you one of these days."

Gojo smiled, all the love he felt for you fueling his desire to keep moving forward in this cruel world, "You already are, (y/n)... You already are."

[elmundodeflor]

And just like that, she’d fallen for him.

Spring. Summer. Autumn. The world had its cycles. There had been peace before war, and peace would come after bloodsheds and battles.

Katara looks at Zuko, at how he stares out to the width in the horizons. The curves of his nose and lips are soft, much like the colors of the leaves around them. The lines of his jaw and cheeks are sharp, in contrast.

He’s a beautiful man; she’s always thought so, even when they were enemies and he’d sworn he’d kill them. She likes it better this way, though— being friends, confidants, long-time companions. Kindness suits him more, either way. She likes how his face looks when he’s calm, — when there’s no rage to contort his scar, no scowl furrowing his brow.

She also likes that he knows her. That they can stand, silence pending between them, and it’s never too tense or uncomfortable. Zuko is just that good to her. He never puts too much pressure on her shoulders, — she’s had enough of that already. Instead, he soothes the rough edges. Lets her make her own choices and never judges her for them.

He looks back at her. An easy smile grazes his features; baffling, tortuous, beautiful. Katara has to fight the urge to freeze some water from her bottle and smash it across her searing face.

“Do you wanna…”, his voice cuts through the wind, raspy as it ever was. When he talks, it’s evident that he’s nervous. That he’s been circling around his thoughts and can’t seem to find the words. “I mean…”, he tries again. “Do you wanna stay here until you decide what to do?”

She hums, then turns her gaze back to the gardens. Aang had asked her to travel the world along with him, — to be by his side and help other people, from other nations and villages. She had yet to give him a proper answer.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to— go on missions, hear the masses’ suffering and be present in whatever way she could. Maybe, it was that she simply had pictured something different for herself. She could be so much more than just the “Avatar’s girl”! She could go home, lend a useful hand to Sokka and her dad advocating for their tribe. She could be an ambassador.

She could be with Zuko.

She can imagine the whole thing all too well, actually, — being on the palace, with him, until she could confront Aang about what to do. They could go for an evening stroll, feed turtleducks by the lake. Zuko’d make tea way past dinner time, and she’d laugh along with Suki when he’d burn his tongue by the first sip.

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”, she tells him, then. They are in one of the many balconies, staring out at the sun. The last scraps of summer have flushed with the breeze, and now the trees look all kinds of reds, yellows, oranges. Almost like they’ve caught on fire.

Zuko smiles at her again. A shy, wonderful thing that makes his eyes glint. His hair’s shaggy and overgrown, and falls limp between the honey of his irises. His cheeks burn a bright pink that, Katara deduces, might be from the gentle light warming up their faces.

“Okay.”, he says. He likes this, as well, — having her around. That he can open up to someone he can share his scars with, both the physical and the ones that lay underneath.

Katara inches close to him, just enough so that their elbows nudge together. The world has its cycles, she believes. Blue skies bleed into the darkness of the night. Ice defrosts when heated-up. And just like that, she’d fall for Zuko— delicate, and raw, and over and over. Helpless, like the moon that carries down the tides. Hopeless, like the autumn leaves that fall, ever so slow, and now gather at their feet like sea-foam.

“Okay.”

[vamp-stamp-fics]

Jet hates his face. He can't stand to look at it. He always looks away from mirrors when he's in the bathroom or ignores his reflection completely whenever he walks past water.

He doesn't believe he's ugly, no far from it. Jet knows he's not from the way girls smile shyly whenever he talks to them. The way they giggle with flustered faces whenever they're in his presence. Smellerbee always rolls her eyes whenever he indulges a little in flirting with girls whenever they pass in a town.

No, Jet hates his face because he looks just like his mother.

His beautiful, caring mother. The one that would always kiss him goodnight after telling him stories of spirits or star-crossed lovers. She was a hopeless romantic jet remembers that. His mother who would coddle him and rock her in his lap after he came home crying, another one of the village boys picking on him for how small he was. Jet used to be quite scrawny and weak if his freedom fighters could believe that.

His mother, the one that protected him from the seething hot flames the best she could the day the fire nation came to their village. while his father did his best to hold the soldiers off. And when he failed to do so, held jet tight to her as she told him to run as far as he could and to never look back. Even promising him she'd be right behind him.

He didn't keep the promise of not looking back as Jet heard the wailing screams of his mother dying. Tears blurring his view of her as the last thing he saw of her was her eyes. Only to see her killer on a Komodo Rhino in front of him with a hatred he'd never seen before.

So now jet covers mirrors. And if he can't do that, he breaks them. Letting the glass shatter as his fist covers in blood. Not only does jet hate that he looks like his mother, but he has the same hatred in his eyes as her killer. Hatred for the fire nation and what it did to him, to his own people and others.

And the thought of the only reminisce jet has left of his mother being tarnished by seeing her face with hatred in her eyes, would kill him sooner than what was to become of him in ba sing se.

[escyn]

Even when he hadn't had access to flame Zuko had been able to sense thunderstorms. For as long as he could remember he'd been able to feel them building hours before any of them had landed. (“My little weatherman,” his mother had called him, cupping his face gently with a smile, after Zuko has excitedly pointed at the sky one monsoon season hours before a storm rolled through.) Excitement would build in his small frame over the course of hours, roiling with the sound of thunder strikes from li’s away. His increase in energy was palpable to all around him, reaching a zenith as the first flashes of lightning lit up the sky around him. Unable to stop himself he would invariably find himself outside, drenched from the pelting rain, exuberant as the wild charge all around him.

He loved the smell ozone, the freedom it promised, right up until it was all that he could taste for months after he was banished. Then it only reminded him of his shame. His incompetence. His dishonorable conduct.

For years Zuko had thought that if Lu-ten was the sun and Azula was the flame, it was only fitting that he was the ozone before a lightning strike: buildup of potential, heat, and charge with no way to release—

[reticenceofladyeva]

hoax xvi (you knew the password so I let you in the door)

Aang peers over the edge of the saddle. Zuko hits the water in a nearly perfect dive, and then Aang loses sight of him. He huffs. "What was that about?"

Sokka yawns. "Just a jerkbender doing his jerkbendery thing, Aang. Besides, he probably doesn't want us to watch Katara kill him."

"Katara wouldn't kill him, Sokka." Aang protests.

Sokka shrugs, much too nonchalantly for Aang's comfort. "She might."

They land Appa down the beach a ways from the camp, and Aang speeds ahead of Sokka and Toph on his air scooter, kicking up sand and tiny shells in his wake. He has to get to Katara. He's missed her so much while the three of them were in prison, and it's like the glimmer of water on the horizon for a man in the desert.

Zuko is kneeling in the sand, forehead nearly touching the ground, when Aang skids into the group of tents. Water Tribe warriors eye the firebender warily as they pretend to go about their tasks. He is murmuring something to Katara, who is poised over him with half the bay at her command, ready to drown Zuko if she lets go of it. Aang takes a moment to admire her.

She's grown since he saw her last, from a young girl two years older to a grown woman. Her hair has been cut short, and the ends just brush her chin. It curls more than it used to now that it isn't weighed down, and it frames her face in an umber halo. She's traded her Water Tribe blues for a brown and green Earth Kingdom hanfu made of practical, sturdy material, and it falls over curves in her hips that Aang doesn't remember her having.

She's beautiful.

She's beautiful and then she's sinking to her knees in front of Zuko, allowing the water to fall back into the bay as he pulls her into him. Katara wraps her arms around his shoulders as his slip around her waist, and then one of his hands comes up to hold the back of her head, fingers tangling in the curls. Katara leans into him, burying her face into his shoulder, and Aang can see her shaking. The Water Tribe warriors have stopped pretending to be busy now, and they watch her with open surprise.

Then, a toddler staggers out of a tent, General Iroh on his heels. Aang sucks in a breath sharply.

The oasis on his horizon slips away, nothing but a desert mirage.

[loreandletters]

WarTrophy!Sokka Snippit

i survived finals. it only cost me my healthy, sanity, and a few years of my life. as celebration, here'sanother semi-polished drabble from my old drafts!

fic in question | snippit 1 | snippit 2

-

Agni, Sokka cursed, I think that made me feel worse.

He hadn’t thought about that night in a long, long time. Was this what brooding did to a person? No wonder Zuko was so grumpy all the time. Sokka sighed. Moping was doing him any good - best leave that to melodramatic prince’s with bruised egos.

Sokka propped himself up with a groan, his chest aching terribly and begging for him to lie back down. Shit. He felt horrible. Almost as bad as he did after his trials.

‘How could you let them get away? We had them!’ 

Sokka snorted, even though it wasn't funny at all. Honestly, what was Zuko expecting? It was the avatar, master of all four elements, versus Sokka, master of nothing. Was he supposed to pull a bomb out of his ass or something? 

Sokka pinched his nose bridge, resisting the urge to bury his face in a pillow and scream. Zuko was understandably upset. He had done the impossible, something everyone had laughed at him for and told him he’d fail at, only for the avatar to simply fly away. On a giant flying spirit-beast thing. 

Could Sokka really blame him for getting mad? 

‘How could you?! You’re - You’re no different than them. I - I should have known. You’re just a savage playing dress up.’

Sokka’s hand dropped onto his lap, cushioned by white sheets. It’s scarred and calloused skin stared back up at him. That…that was a little harder to reason away.

The people they fought, those were savages. Agni’s sake, they had bone spears! Bones! They lived in huts; they traveled on wooden boats - what about Sokka was savage other than his eyes? He may not be a Fire National, but everything he'd done over the past eight years should have made up for it!

Sokka served the royal family even when it went against his personal feelings, which wasn’t even something everyone on their crew could claim. Hell, he’d threatened to kill a kid in front of their mother for Zuko. Who in their right mind would see that and then say he was a traitor? A savage?

His gut grew hot - and he rubbed at his face to try and banish the growing flush, ignoring how it made his ribs twinge in protest. 

In the strictest terms, Sokka didn’t really have any grounds to get mad at Zuko. Zuko was a prince, banishment or not, and Sokka was decidedly…not. If Zuko wanted to call him a savage until the day he died, he didn’t have the right to say no. It’s just that...Sokka knew deep, deep, deep, deep down, Zuko couldn't have meant it. His prince was a kind one, gentle and so conscious of everyone around him. 

Fire spit, Zuko used to make him help sneak turtleducks into his room, wanting to raise them in secret only to give up because the idea of them being separated from their mother was too sad. Sokka sighed.

He forced himself to let go of any bitterness, letting the resentment in his stomach cool. His anger was misdirected (it was). Zuko wasn't the problem here - Ozai was. They wouldn't even be out here in the first place if it wasn't for him! Ursa, Lu Ten, Azulon - everything was Ozai's fault, and as if that wasn't enough, he was trying to ruin Zuko.

Zuko would still be that kind boy Sokka remembered from their childhood and Azula (probably ) wouldn't have turned out so crazy. Even now, oceans away and two years of silence, Ozai had still managed to hurt Zuko more.

That was the root of Sokka's anger. That once again, Zuko let his anger get the best of him, forcing him to embrace Ozai’s poison just a little bit more.

Sokka had held out hope that maybe the years at sea would dampen that connection, the openness maturing him in a way the palace could not, but it seemed he was wrong. Ozai's talons still cut in deep.

Sokka sighed, the sharp twist in his heart throbbing. It hurt him to see Zuko chase senselessly after Ozai’s approval, not when he knew the Fire Lord would never give it. Everything that would make Zuko a great man was everything Ozai hated. Zuko would have to either die or become like his father, before even a sliver of approval floated his way, and Sokka didn’t know which was worse.

Making up his mind, he began to get up. So what if Zuko blamed him? It was nothing, just a bump in the road. There was a lot on the line, and Sokka didn’t have time to get all twisted about some playground insults. Zuko needed Sokka now more than ever, and if he continued to doubt him, well that just meant Sokka needed to work harder to show his dedication.

Sokka rolled out of bed with a groan. He needed to see Zuko and…well, he’d probably have to apologize for that punch. Also, Sokka just wanted to see him. He was Sokka’s prince, but they were friends. And anyways, Zuko still cared about him (duh the guy had moved him to his room) and that was enough proof for him that this was all just water under the bridge.

With great effort, he got to his feet. Sucking in a couple breaths, he steeled himself. Agni, it hurt. By the time he made it to the door, he’d pull himself together. He wouldn’t be of any use to Zuko broken. Letting out a hiss, he limped out into the hallway. When he crossed the threshold, he straightened up and pushed the agony to the corner of his mind that he ignored. There, totally normal. 

(he could make it about a day, tops, before needing like ten hours of beauty rest)

Sokka traversed through at least three hallways before he finally ran into someone.

“Sokka.” The voice was deep, heavy with the scratch that came from breathing out fire, proof of Agni’s blessing. 

“Jogan.” Sokka said back just as enthusiastically, which was to say, not at all.

Jogan looked him up and down with an unkind, critical eye. “You shouldn’t be up.” 

“Probably.” Sokka shrugged, then raised his eyebrow in half-feigned amusement. “Odd to hear it coming from you though. Didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t.” The bigger man huffed, “but the prince has been hovering for days. It’d be disrespectful for you to waste his effort.”

Out of everyone on the crew, Sokka respected Jogan the most, despite the fact it was so obviously not returned. Jogan didn’t like him, but he was a loyalist so he obeyed Zuko. He was nothing like Ryuji, who ignored the prince in favor of his own disgust. 

It was nice to see that there were still people out there who respected the weight of Zuko's status. As the banishment went on and on, Sokka had started to fear the Fire Lords’ propaganda would fully erase support for Zuko’s claim to the throne by the time they returned. At this rate though, they had at least ten years before Sokka really had to start worrying. No great, but it could be worse.

“I would never.” Sokka promised, and tapped his chest confidently, “In fact, thanks to the Prince’s attention, I’m at full health. Could fight off a giant flying buffalo.” 

“Hmph.” Jogan grunted, but that criticizing gleam had dimmed. Sokka couldn’t help the exasperation. It felt odd knowing that a racist crewhand had more trust in his word than Zuko did. 

Sokka looked around then, confusion brushing away his apprehension. “Where is everyone?” 

It wasn’t that late in the day yet; there should still be some people milling about. Were they getting their asses kicked in some all out brawl on deck? Shit, he hoped he hadn’t missed Ryuji getting his ass handed to him.

Jogan thankfully decided to have mercy on Sokka and humor him, instead of ignoring him (outside of orders) as he tended to do. “We’ve docked. They’ve ordered everyone off board.”

“Already?”

Jogan rolled his shoulders. “It’s been a week since the poles.”

Spirits. He was out for a while. “Where are we then?”

“In Sen Dor port for repairs.” 

Sen Dor? Why did that sound familiar? Seeen Doooo – Sokka’s back sent sharp sparks of pain up his spine with how fast it shot up. This was Zhao’s port. Sokka closed his eyes in frustration. Zuko must have been too impatient to go further north. That, or he didn’t want to lose the avatar's scent. Shit! What a horrible time to be out. Couldn’t have happened in the three years they were just wandering out on sea with nothing to do, could it?

Sokka bowed, and bid the man a quick goodbye. He definitely didn’t miss the disapproving stare it earned him. Sokka ignored it, focusing on getting to his room and armouring up as fast as he could.  Zhao was a fucking bastard, an ambitous prick that wouldn’t think twice about hyjacking Zuko’s mission for his own gains. If Lu Ten hadn’t died, he never would have made it up the rank as far as he had.  

Unfortunately for literally everyone, that was just the kind of soldier Ozai liked.

Sokka swore under his breath. 

Zuko just couldn’t give him a break, could he?

[kittenshift-17]

"Thank you, I really hate it" for Zutara?

"Your crown, Fire Lord Zuko," Katara announced with a flourish as she stepped back after carefully fastening the fire crown into Zuko's hair, letting him see the final effect in the mirror.

"Thank you," Zuko said dryly after examining the headpiece. "I hate it."

Katara giggled, shaking her head and swatting at his arm.

"You only have to wear it for the length of the meeting with the senators," she reminded him. "And I promise I'll help you take it off later."

Zuko met her gaze in the mirror, heat in his gold eyes.

"Just the crown?" he teased, smirking.

Katara pressed her lips together, trying to stifle her smile and failing miserably.

"I could also be persuaded to help you out of your royal robes," she offered imperiously, and she squealed when Zuko lunged for her, intent on helping her out of her own royal robe before they could bother about the senator meeting.

"Zuko!" Katara gasped when he caught her with ease, reeling her in until he had her caged in his arms and could kiss her soundly.

"Katara," he teased in the same voice before claiming her lips for a searing kiss.

"We're going to be late," Katara managed to get out between breathless kisses.

"Mmm," Zuko hummed in agreement, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and claiming it all over again. "I'm the Fire Lord. A Fire Lord is never late. Everyone else is simply early."

"So arrogant," Katara chided before he kissed her breathless all over again, his hands sliding up the backs of her thighs and taking her royal dress with them.

They were definitely late to the meeting. Again.

[hanasnx]

this might be kind of an obvious assumption but i’ve always pictured zuko (aged up or in his fire lord arc) to be very into praise. now this could work in a soft dom kinda way or maybe even a subby way but personally i like the idea of a praise kink!soft dom zuko idk

MINORS DNI 18+

“There you go. That��s it.” ZUKO croons, stroking your hair back with his hand. Loving and tender, he eases you into taking him, the sensation of your hole ever so gradually opening up around him causes his breath to hitch in his throat. “You’re doing well, how does it feel?” Oddly formal, you still find him endearing, scoffing into a tired smile. Foreplay was tumultuous as usual, a wrestle match of eager tongues and reaching limbs, pinning each other and by the time he’s reintroducing his cock to your sex you’re already spent from the orgasms leading up to it.

“Good, my lord, feels so good.” The affectionate petname plays coyly off your grinning lips, and he tsks.

“Enough of that. You know what I want to hear.” he reiterates, calling back to a time in which he scolded you for addressing him as your superior.

“Zuko,” you breathe, and he sighs at the sweet sound, capitalizing on the momentum by sinking in to the hilt. You gasp at the sensation of being filled, your soft tissue already overstimulated from how long he’d gone down on it prior to this.

“Yes,” he encourages in a grateful exhale, bowing his head to tuck between yours and your shoulder. His hands clutch onto you, pressing you as close to him as possible, until your lungs have little room to inflate. “Say it again.” he whispers.

“Oh, Zuko,” you purr, pleasure running away with you. Fire ignites within him as his name is chanted, using it as drive to rut into you. Back and forth, the velvety skin of his cock drags across your insides that send tingles like electricity up your spine. His lips brush your collarbone every time he bottoms out, a new layer of sweat permeates both of you, mixing the salt together as his pace quickens.

“Very good. Please—continue.” The subtle beg spurs you on, and his name on your lips grows in volume and haste as he matches your energy, fucking into you as you encourage him. The son of the Fire Nation had gone by many names, especially in enemy territory under disguise. His identity was concealed for his safety, and now you may speak it freely. Call him by his name.

[seumyo]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU ⭑.ᐟ CHRISTMAS SERIES

wherein a gift for the holidays is served to you by one of santa’s trusty helpers.

❆ DECEMBER 1ST. THE FIRST FALL OF SNOW.

PAIRING. TIMESKIP!Bakugou Katsuki/Wife!Reader

On the first fall of snow, Bakugou Katsuki could ignore how exhausted his muscles ache from hero work, how he hates the cold season, how his winter clothes are way too uncomfortably tight—because all he could see in this very moment is you.

❆ DECEMBER 4TH. MOONLIGHT SONATA.

PAIRING. Malleus Draconia/Fem!Reader

A banquet is being hosted in the Valley of Thorns? How strange, even for those who’ve resided in the barran quiet lands for centuries and counting. The beloved of Malleus Draconia wishes for one, and whatever she wishes for, he’ll oblige with little resistance.

❆ DECEMBER 7TH. THE PROCESS OF HOLIDAY GIFTS.

PAIRING. TIMESKIP!Ushijima Wakatoshi/Wife!Reader

Truth be told, Wakatoshi wants to be involved in the holiday planning from beginning to end. It’s his way of healing something that he never thought was broken. And so he can proudly write “From: Mom and Dad” on his little treasures’ gifts.

❆ DECEMBER 10TH. YOUR PERSONAL HEATER IS THE FIRELORD!

PAIRING. Firelord!Zuko/Gender Neutral!Reader

To the world, Zuko was many things. He is the reigning firelord of the nation you were so familiar with, one of the most respected leaders in this era. But to you, Zuko was just Zuko. Your personal heater to combat the cold, even.

❆ DECEMBER 13TH. THE SENTIMENT OF THE MISTLETOE.

PAIRING. Kenji Sato/Gender Neutral!Reader

In which your boyfriend Kenji Sato abuses the sentiment of the mistletoe, and suddenly there’s one in every corner of your home.

❆ DECEMBER 16TH. RECENT BAKING NEWS: GINGERBREAD MAN MURDERED BY ICING!

PAIRING. Tokoyami Fumikage/Gender Neutral!Reader

Many gingerbread men were sacrificed and burned to get that perfect gingerbread man you wanted. Tokoyami’s just here to give you just that, but not without a messy baking process first.

❆ DECEMBER 19TH. TO STAY, AND MAYBE STAY FOREVER.

PAIRING. Leona Kingscholar/Fem!Reader

You chose what you’ll be doing for the holidays last year, so now it’s rightfully Leona’s turn. Maybe a trip to Sunset Savannah? Travel the world for a week? What could your princely boyfriend want to do for the holidays?

❆ DECEMBER 22ND. BIBINGKA BY BEN AND BEN

PAIRING. TIMESKIP!Iwaizumi Hajime/Filipina!Reader

After years of hoping and planning, your boyfriend, Iwaizumi Hajime, finally visits your home country for the holidays. And he helplessly falls more in love with you than he already has during his stay.

❆ DECEMBER 25TH. A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS.

PAIRING. TIMESKIP!Bakugou Katsuki/Fem!Reader

A younger, more naïve Bakugou thought he’d be settled in life by the age of 26. With a nice house, a good career ahead of him, and a wife and maybe expecting their first child. Well, now that he’s 26, he can say that he’s settled in life. He may not have his own house yet, but a nice apartment would do. He has a good career, though it wasn’t in the rank that his younger self found ideal, but it’s ok; he’s not in a rush. And he may not have a wife yet, but he’s about to once he proposes to you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[hypnoticsphere]

just some zukki thoughts

Sokka kissing Suki at the boiling rock, melting into her arms, feeling the way she hugs him so close. She’s alive. Of course she is. Suki is strong.

Zuko is standing behind them, shifting awkwardly when Suki notices him. He hasn’t gotten to talk to her… ever really, but especially not after the whole… burning down Kyoshi island thing. Suki raises her brow at Sokka and he just shrugs. Suki just nods, taking that as the only answer she needed regarding Zuko.

Zuko has never been comfortable with touch or proximity. Lu Ten, Uncle Iroh and Mother were the exceptions, but, they’re gone now. So, he should hate it. He should hate that he’s squished in between Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe and Suki of the Kysohi Warriors, two people that hate him, but. . . he doesn’t. They are currently in one of the coolers, one that Zuko himself was in only a few hours ago.

He doesn’t favor the way Sokka’s elbow juts into his ribs, but he doesn’t mind the closeness. It’s almost nice. Almost.

Hakoda is there too, being the entire reason Sokka and Zuko came in the first place. He eyes him intensely, with a look that Zuko can’t quite decipher. He glances between the three of them, seemingly in thought before nodding to himself. Zuko blinks, clearly not understanding what Hakoda’s thought process could be other than planning to throw him into the boiling lake.

He shrinks down further, avoiding the man entirely, willing himself to disappear.

He doesn’t speak for the entirety of their cruise. He listens as Sokka quietly recounts what happened after they escaped for the first time on Appa. He explains why Zuko is here now, how he will be teaching Aang fire bending. Zuko can only nod, not willing to look Hakoda in the eyes.

“And we’re sure we can trust him?” Hakoda says, not unkindly.

Zuko goes to speak, to ramble about how he’s changed, that he spoke out against his father but Sokka beats him to it.

“Of course. He’s the one that helped me rescue you.”

He says it so matter-of-fact that Zuko wants to scream. He feels the way his cheeks start to burn and prays to Agni that it’s only the steam from the lake.

“Okay.” Hakoda says, trusting his son implicitly. Zuko’s mind blanks, eyes widening, how was this so easy for them. How did this trust without a second thought? A part of him wants to yell that they are weak, gullible and the reason they are in this situation in the first place. The other part of him, however, wishes he had that. Hakoda and Suki trust Sokka, not him.

He doesn’t expect them too, not after what he’s done to them, not after what he did to Katara. She was so willing to help him, to heal his scar, and he was so blinded by the thought of getting his father’s love back, he threw away that chance. That chance of friendship. Of trust.

Katara can’t look at him. He can tell Aang is struggling when looking between the two of them. He wouldn’t blame Aang if he told him to leave and to never come back.

Aang is the Avatar, and he’s focused on making the right choice, thinking in-depth about his options and the risks he’s taking. Zuko admires him, truly. He’s come so far since their first meeting at the South Pole. Zuko winces a bit at the thought, and only hopes that they, and Agni, can forgive him. If not that, trust him not to hurt them anymore.

Although, Zuko doesn’t know if that’s an option anymore after what happened with Toph. He hates it. He hates that he was scared when she came to talk to him. He burnt her. She has forgiven him, but Zuko has not forgiven himself. He has to earn that forgiveness, he knows that.

Sokka is the one person that Zuko can’t quite understand. Sokka should be furious with him, and he was, for a while, but now he’s talking to Zuko, showing him useless things, putting his trust into him.

Zuko isn’t sure why the thought of breaking Sokka’s trust makes him so sick to his stomach. Suki too, for that matter.

[nyastesticles]

I don’t care what you say, I’m a proud zutara shipper 👍🏾

[totallynotashieldagent]

Valentine's Day Special 💕

Send a prompt from this list for a little Valentine's Day Drabble. ❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

"I didn’t get you flowers because they’d just wither. I’d rather give you something that lasts-"

"We really shouldn't be doing this-" "Mhmm we really shouldn't-"

"I told myself I wouldn’t fall for you… but here I am, buying roses like an idiot. So here-"

"Wait, so you’re telling me all these years I could’ve just bribed you with chocolate?"

"I got us matching pyjamas. No, you don't have a choice."

"They say food is the way to someone’s heart, so I made you dinner. Just don’t ask me if it’s edible."

"You’re the best Valentine’s gift I could ask for. But also, where’s my actual gift?"

"I swore I’d never fall in love, but you made me ruin that promise."

"You were my first love. And after all this time, I think you’re my last, too."

"We promised we’d spend every Valentine’s together… but this year, I’m alone."

"You’re the only human I’ve ever loved. And that terrifies me."

"Don't get blood on your suit, we have reservations at seven."

"Why are you kneeling?" "Can you focus?! I'm trying to ask you something!"

"If you two aren't together, can I ask her out then?"

"Be mine? I mean, you are. But I like it when you say it."

"I'm not blushing because of you! It's- It's- It's the vodka!"

"So I've got the perfect plan for today." "Really? What is it?"

"Are you seriously that blind?!"

"I don't want anything- No chocolates, no flowers- I just want you back."

"We promised always but I guess we ran out of time, huh?"

"You like her, don't you?" "What? No!!" "Then why do you have that scrunchie on your wrist?"

"You kissed me." "Yeah, is it okay?" "Can't say for sure. Do it again."

"What are we?" "Friends..." "Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Sorry- I'm out of practice." "Yeah, I could tell."

"Oh- Oh you're wearing that?" "Why? What's wrong with it?" "No, no- Nothing. I just ... need a moment."

"Every timeline- We're meant to be in every verse of existence. I promise you."

"Your blood?" "No." "Good because we're running late."

"Just because I don't like you doesn't mean you can just like someone else!"

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Fandoms you can pick from:

DC (Batfam, Superfam, Hal Jordan, Barry Allen)

JJK (Gojo, Geto, Choso, Nanami)

Marvel (Bucky, Scott Summers, Alex Summers, Matt Murdock, Peter Parker,)

Teen Wolf (Stiles, Isaac, Theo)

Assorted (Anakin Skywalker, Mitch Rapp, Zuko, Roman Godfrey, Vincent de Gramont or basically anyone you've seen me write about.)