summary: zuko's straight-forwardness in appreciating the attractive qualities of the lone stranger saved by aang has you curious on whether you could get him to spill on what he thinks of you. (no major movie spoilers)
"He's very attractive." Zuko admits, eyes unblinking as he stares at the unconscious stranger.
The entire team whips their heads to stare at Zuko in unconcealed shock.
"What?" Zuko mutters, gaze lingering on the surprised expressions casted onto him, before eventually landing on yours. "He is. It's all in the bone structure."
You blink, unable to process his straight-forward words that landed on you like a gut punch. You've never considered it, the fact that Zuko also found others attractive.
It seems like a completely, silly notion now that the thought has verbalised itself in your mind. Of course Zuko would notice if others were considered attractive. Maybe it just never occurred to you in all your years of knowing him—of also finding him—
You clear your throat, forcing yourself to look away from his prying gaze, confusion alight in his eyes from your taken-aback expression.
If he's unconsciously considered the attractiveness of this stranger... has he ever—no, this should not be your priority. It doesn't matter what he thinks of you, it's not like it would change a thing. He's practically admitted it non-verbally through that monotonous admission of his, that a person's looks is assessed by him in a completely, impersonal standpoint.
Bone structure? You shouldn't be curious. Knowing Zuko, he might accidentally insult your structure if you asked.
The curiosity does not disappear. In fact, it digs deeper and deeper into the crevices of your mind—subconsciously affecting your attitude around Zuko.
It doesn't help that it's painfully obvious that he's noticed your strange behaviour ever since his comment. Once, when his hand had come up to your shoulder to alert you that everyone was boarding the ship—and your entire body jumped in response. Again, when you completely blanked out when he asked if you would like some firecracker buns.
It's not like you wanted to hyper-focus on his observation on purpose. It's just that after years of knowing him and pushing down that sub-concious attraction—of not allowing yourself to even see him as anything more than the Zuko you know, the rebound impact of all your resurfacing emotions combined with his lingering presence is far too much.
Zuko isn't the type to beat around the bush either, one of the rare habits his uncle hasn't passed onto him. In a moment of needed reprieve, your attempt at regaining your composure fails spectacularly when you find yourself in a stand-still, cornered in the back of the ship—one firecracker bun in his hand as an offering.
"Have I said something to make you uncomfortable?"
Zuko's gaze is akin to a puppy's, wide-eyed and brows furrowed. Afraid that he's done something wrong, overlooked the choice of his words once again and destroyed the atmosphere without realising.
Straight to the point as ever, you'd appreciate it more if he had given you a few more minutes to come up with a reasonable excuse. Something more plausible than 'Do you find me attractive?', a lingering question that should've remained buried in the soil that you departed from nearly an hour ago.
"Not exactly." Taking the firecracker bun from his hand, the crumbs coat your fingers. You needed something to muffle your words, anything to distract you. It's easier to focus on the lingering spice that melts into your tongue, rather than his unblinking stare.
"So—I did say something." His mouth parts, a slight tilt downward in the corner of his lip. "Or I've made you uncomfortable."
There was no winning with him. Swallowing your last bite, you brush the crumbs against your sleeve, the slouch of your posture a key sign of surrender, your invisible white flag waving at the sight of his increasingly dubious expression.
"The first one." You admit with a sigh. "Earlier—"
He leans in subtly, a habit he does when he's listening attentively, and the luscious wave of his bangs brushes against your knuckles. His amber eyes pierce through you, and the words practically die off your tongue.
Why is he looking at you like that?
It isn't fair that he has such an effect on you. You still remember the old days, when he had a worser temper instead of the softened expression that lingers warmly on you. Plus, that horrible haircut, a singular ponytail with the rest of his hair shaved off forever engrained in your mind. Even recalling the image doesn't help calm your thundering heartbeat when the Zuko in front of you is so—overwhelming.
"You were saying?" He prods gently.
You swallow, averting your gaze. "When you mentioned... about attractiveness. Was that like—a spur of the moment kind of thing, or do you have a first impression for everyone you meet?"
His brows furrow for a moment, before recognition lights his golden gaze. "Ah—that."
"Right, that." You feel the seat warming beneath you in your embarrassment, a hallucination of senses in your sudden need to escape his assessing gaze. He barely even remembers his comment, and here you are, still obsessively prying over it.
"I was only answering Toph's question." He states. "No one was stating the obvious."
"The obvious." You muse. "Do you assess the attractiveness of everyone you meet?"
"I suppose it depends." He mutters, hand rubbing over his chin in consideration. "If it was during a battle, I wouldn't be prioritising on considering the opponent's appearance. As compared to someone knocked out on the ground, it gives me plenty of time."
You barely resist a snort. Only he could treat a topic like a person's attractiveness like one of his battle strategies. "I suppose you didn't have time during our first meeting then."
As soon as the words leave your mouth, both you and Zuko freeze. Your lips clamp shut, an immediate wince shuddering through your frame. Cat's out of the bag, you suppose.
"Never mind." You wave it off, your own laugh echoing much too loudly through your ears. "It wasn't like I was wondering—well, maybe I was. You just sprung it out of nowhere earlier, and I got... curious. You don't have to answer—"
"I did." He cuts you off unceremoniously.
You blink, his vague words echoing in the thin distance between the two of you. "What?"
He swallows, and for once, he's the one flustered in this conversation. "I did notice, during our first meeting."
No way. Your first meeting with Zuko was anything but pretty. You remember being covered in sweat, grime, and ashes coating your clothes as he shot flames at you from his palms. The twisted grimace on his face when you had him writhing under your grip, as he loudly declared his revenge on you, rupturing your eardrums with all his yelling.
"You mean—" You barely resist a grin stretching on your lips. "—when I pinned you down on your airship, and you were spitting death threats into my ear."
"Yes, that." His long locks cover his ears now, but you can bet the rims are reddened from the reminder. "You were formidable."
Formidable. No, that wasn't enough. His sudden focus on the floorboards of his ship made it obvious that he was simplifying his observation.
"I was gaining the winning hand." You state out-right, disbelief coating your tone. "And you had time to notice?"
A restrained sigh escapes Zuko's gritted teeth, already regretting his slip of tongue.
"What of the angle? Does the Fire Lord recall my bone structure during our first battle too, when I pinned you to the floor?" You tease.
He scoffs in a light-hearted manner, shoulder lightly bumping into yours. "It was the first time anyone had pinned me down. I wasn't exactly given another view to look at."
"Was the view bad then?" You prod.
"Not at all." He answers absentmindedly—quickly without hesitation.
Your lips part, speechless. Zuko immediately separates his shoulder from yours, a bashful expression overtaking his features.
"Objectively." He states hurriedly, waving his arms. "I was expecting to find the Avatar at the time, not... you."
The way he says it, the almost breathless note that leaves his lips. You devour it hungrily, now being the one to lean in, prying.
"And how did you find me, Zuko?" You ask earnestly.
He huffs in defeat. His softened gaze finally meets yours again, his eyes roaming over your features, ones that he's familiarised with for years, and yet... it still takes the breath out of him. "...You were the most beautiful person I've ever sparred with."
Oh... wow. You didn't expect that.
"You were threatening to kill me." You recall in disbelief.
"I was multi-tasking." He mutters, ashamed.
Your intended snort escalates into a cackle, unable to contain yourself. "I would have never guessed that from the way you glared at me. So full of shame—and destroyed pride."
"What about you?" He asks in a hurry, though his tone drops towards the end in hesitation—hinting his regret in the wrong change in topic. He grimaces, gaze dropping to his tightened fists over his lap. "...Did you find my scar hideous?"
Surprise colours your features.
Immediately shaking your head, you're at a loss for words on how to convey just how off-course he was on his guess. How could you ever find Zuko hideous? Your heart barely survived your visits to the Fire Nation, not when their own Fire Lord always insisted on attending to your presence personally, even when it arose suspicion of your shared bond with him, to have him so easily distracted when you arrived on his lands.
Even now, he's overwhelming your vision. Healthy muscles that are barely hidden under his clothes, or the hair he's refused to cut ever since his youth that now flows lusciously down his broad back. His amber eyes that glint golden when the sun reflects his irises, and even the conjured image of the way his arms move when he's fire-bending.
He's— "Beautiful."
By the time you realise your second slip of the tongue, Zuko has already blinked once, caught off-guard.
You purse your lips, finding this conversation to be as riveting as it is a weaponised self-attack. "Objectively speaking. You're attractive, Zuko."
"Objectively." He repeats slowly, amused that you're using his own deflecting choice of words.
"Fine, like really attractive." You deadpan. "It's annoying, because I'm supposed to be focused on the mission, and you're just... standing there."
It was the truth. You couldn't be the only one who noticed it. His subtle change in demeanour over the years, how he carried himself into a room now instead of randomly announcing his arrival at the worst timings. Even Sokka noticed.
He snorts, and the sound deflates the tension in your chest. "Funny, I should be saying that about you."
You gasp, expression aghast. "You're joking."
"It is not honourable to lie." He shrugs. "You've always been the most magnetic in my eyes. I can never find myself looking away from you."
You grow quiet, the genuine sincerity in his words leaving you defenseless. Have you been blind all along? Is that why he always sent letters—asking you to visit his nation for purposes other than meetings? Or why he sought for your company constantly during this entire trip, despite it being the first time the entire set of Team Avatar being together in months?
You had been too focused on what was comfortable and familiar, to teasing and prodding, that you never considered this.
"For the record." You whisper, leaning in to truly look at him. "I never found your scar hideous. You were always beautiful to me, Zuko."
He swallows, something intense flickering in his gaze—but too fleeting for you to catch onto it. Maybe it had always been there, when his eyes linger on your form when he accompanied you in his palace gardens, or even back then, when he was a banished prince who sought for you, even with a grimace on his face.
"That haircut when we first met, though?" Your smile breaks out into a toothy grin. "Absolutely hideous."
The softness in his gaze falters, before a groan rumbles past his throat. "Will you ever let that one go?"
"Never."
He lets out a low breath, drained of his energy. "I admitted to finding you attractive, and this is my repayment?"
"Who's finding who attractive?"
Sokka's voice strikes a jump in your shoulders, and Zuko's in an impressive halt, frozen completely after being caught red-handed.
"Ah, between the two of you—" Sokka whistles. "I was wondering who was going to break first. Congrats, love-birds!"
"We're not—" Your voice clashes with Zuko's. "This isn't—"
You sneak a glance to Zuko, and his hand is already covering half of his face, his embarrassment shielded by the shadow of his large palm.
Sokka's confused gaze switches between the two of you, blinking slowly.
"Ah, couple years too early?" Sokka shrugs, before clicking his tongue. "That's rough. I'll check back in with you guys in another time." Making his way back towards the front, he shouts once more to prove his point. "Just don't let me catch you guys making out or anything, I'll need to poke out my eyes for that one!"
"...We better restrain him before he starts blasting it as news to everyone." You groan.
"Agreed." He mutters.
Right as you made your move to leave, Zuko's hand grips yours—stopping you.
You lift your head, meeting his gaze. "Yeah?"
His Adam's apple bobs up and down, consideration clear in his expression before he decisively leans in. His voice is a warm hush, soft and intimate when he whispers. "For the record." Your own words echo back to your ears in the low hush of his voice. "I wasn't only referring to our first meeting when I said that you're beautiful."
His smile quirks up into something tender, a secret expression reserved only for you. ...At this rate, your curiousity was really going to be the death of you.
likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated! <333
a/n: i need to write more firelord zuko stat. he looks so good and still so awkward my childhood crush has been reignited.
service dom AANG has this terrible habit of robbing you of your movement during sex. it’s like the balance is tipped too extremely to one side, he’s trying to make you feel good, but he gets carried away in the moment trying to control it for you. you’re riding him, a position in which you have the power to take what you want, to decide the pace, to tell him what to do. instead, you’re reduced to a hot mess as he locks you in place with a hard grip on your waist, hands biting into the soft down of your flesh as he fucks up into you at breakneck impact. skin smacking skin so it stings, bucking up into your greedy hole as it eagerly swallows every inch of him. he curses to himself over how you’re clenching down on him, and he watches your pretty eyes roll back as he bullies that special spot inside you. you’re being used, you’re being handled, you’re being robbed of your power in this position - and you’re letting it happen. it feels too good to stop, you don’t want to be responsible for everything right now, you just wanna pretend to be a toy, that’s how close you are right now. what puts it all over the top, however, the glaring detail you can’t ignore, is this: aang has taken charge, is forcing you to take what he’s giving you, his focused eyes glue to where your bodies conjoin, his teeth grit hard, but he can’t stop grunting out a rushed, pathetically slurred, and whimpery, “fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme!”
Summary: Tamtey and So'lek discuss a strange human phenomenon, one that seems to hit a little close to home for Tamtey. So'lek is terribly confused.
Contains: Mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation, and past suicide attempt(s)
Word count: 1.5k
AO3 link
The last thing So’lek had expected out of the evening was for him and Tamtey to talk about death over dinner.
It had been a long day for them both. He had taken out an RDA drill site alongside several of the surrounding patrols. Tamtey had taken down an ore processing plant and most of the RDA signal balloons along the border of the Kinglor Forest and the Upper Plains. Exhaustion shone in every line of their bodies, but So’lek had realized that Tamtey seemed a little…off this evening.
So, like a respectable suitor, he prepared them a meal to share by the fire. The conversation had started out fine, but had taken a turn when So’lek had asked if taking down the ore processing plant had gone smoothly. As soon as the words had left his mouth, Tamtey had risen her walls—lips pursing and ears pinning flat against the side of her head.
So’lek could almost hear his internal alarm blaring. “Sarentu, talk to me.” He asked gently. She stared resolutely into the fire. He slid over and rested a hand on her knee, but try as he might, he could not catch her eyes. “What happened, Tamtey?”
The Sarentu sighed deeply, hanging her head. “Nothing, really.” She said quietly. “I was stealthy, for the most part. It was just near the end, when I was shutting down the last grinder…” She trailed off, biting the inside of her cheek. “I was seen by an RDA soldier, but he didn’t even try to shoot at me. He just…saw me and turned his gun on himself.” She shrugged. “I don’t even know why I’m so bent out of shape about it. I was going to kill him anyway. He did my job for me. I should’ve been glad, but—” She sighed again, bringing her knees up to her chest. “All it did was bring up bad memories.”
“From TAP?” He asked.
She nodded, fiddling with the hem of her shawl. “If someone was attacked and killed by wildlife or Na’vi, we would hear chatter about the death. It was the same for accidents or health conditions. But there were times when someone would just…disappear…and there would be hardly any talk surrounding the death.”
So’lek narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Tamtey continued to stare into the fire. “It didn’t happen a lot, but when it did, there was often a single word associated with the event. One that would cause the Sky People to immediately shut down the conversation.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “Suicide.”
Face pinched in confusion, So’lek tried to catch her eyes. She wouldn’t look at him. “Sarentu, I do not know this…suicide.”
Tamtey clasped her hands together, but she could not hide the slight tremor. “It means—” She swallowed heavily. “It means to take one’s own life.”
So’lek stiffened. That was…not the way of the Na’vi. He was silent for a moment.
“Why?”
The question was one of soul-deep confusion.
Tamtey shrugged. “The reasons can be different, human to human. Oftentimes, though, it is done in a moment of sheer hopelessness. Of being convinced, in a way, that it is the right choice.”
So’lek tried very hard to comprehend this way of thinking. He also tried very hard to decipher Tamtey’s dull tone, her stiff posture. Her unwillingness to look him in the eyes. He felt dread begin to creep into his bones.
“Are there not…other paths?” He tentatively asked.
The edges of Tamtey’s lips quirked humorlessly. “Of course there are,” she said. “But it is not often the lack of paths that causes one to consider suicide. Usually, it is being too exhausted to make any other choice, or to take any other path. Too beaten down, too tired of trying to change things, too used to disappointment after disappointment. It is…complex and hard to explain.”
So’lek nodded, but his mind still whirled. His entire being ached to ask the question plaguing his mind, his soul. His heart pounded, and he could feel a cold sweat forming on his back.
Then his lips parted and the cursed question echoed in the night. “Did you ever…try?”
So’lek’s breath refused to leave his lungs. His fingers pressed bruises into his knees with how hard he gripped them in an attempt to ground himself.
Tamtey would not look at him.
It was all the answer he needed.
Again, the word was ripped, raw and painful, from his throat. “Why?”
Silence stretched for several moments and So’lek feared he would never get a response out of her. He tensed, preparing himself to edge closer to her, loathing the stillness of her body, the darkness in her eyes. He saw her shoulders rise and fall with breath, yet…she looked barely alive.
Finally, finally, she spoke.
“I was tired,” she said, voice devoid of emotion. “I am tired.”
So’lek tried very hard to keep his composure at the mention of the present tense. He succeeded, but barely.
“I have tried…so very hard to be Na’vi. To live and to learn. To rediscover how to be Sarentu.” Then, finally, her shoulders began to shake intermittently. “But—the fighting—it never ends. The RDA—they keep coming back. And they take, take, take.” Tears pooled in her eyes and she bared her teeth, her quiet voice dripping with hate. “The moment I think things will get better, the moment I hope—” Tamtey’s fingernails were digging into her thighs hard enough to cause blood to well and drip lazily onto the stone below. “They come and they destroy it. They wreak havoc, they kill. And I have to fight.”
The anger Tamtey displayed—tail lashing harshly, muscles shaking in rage—was not unfamiliar to So’lek. But this time, something unknown lurked behind the emotion. He could see it in her eyes—blown wide, pupils small, whites showing. He could see it in her body—the tautness, the spastic, bodily jerks. She was reliving whatever mindset had led her to consider this…suicide. In this moment, her mind would be hypervigilant, shutting down perceived danger before it could hurt her. If he said anything that made her think talking to him was dangerous? He could barely entertain the thought, so he didn’t dare interrupt her.
“I am—tired—of fighting, So’lek.” Her voice was beginning to sound thick. “Fighting the RDA, yes, but also fighting the human inside me.” Her words wobbled slightly. “This rage? It is all-consuming. It is—” Then came the first cry, her body folding in on itself. “—hate.”
The shakes, having been intermittent in frequency before, were all-encompassing now. A keen, thin and quiet, slipped past her lips. “I hate myself.”
So’lek couldn’t stop the pained moan from clawing up his throat. His eyes were wide. A new kind of fear, a new kind of understanding settling on his heart. And it made him afraid. He feared for her—for his brave, bold Tamtey. He feared the recurring thoughts he couldn’t control, the identity of self-loathing he couldn’t erase, the years of abuse and loss he could never take away. Most of all, he feared the thought of suicide would never fully leave Tamtey. His heart stuttered to imagine the day she felt too tired, too hopeless, and he wasn’t around. Ma Eywa, ma Eywa, he prayed—fervently, desperately. Help me help her, Great Mother. Please.
Tears were streaming freely down Tamtey’s face, now. “I don’t always hate myself.” She sobbed. “Just—just sometimes.” She was beginning to hyperventilate, words hitching around gasping breaths. “And—and—I feel so—so lost.”
For the first time since she started speaking, she raised her head and met his eyes. The heartbreak and despair in her golden eyes ripped his heart in two.
“Help me, So’lek!” She wailed, shattering. She cried noisily, sobs ripping out of her chest, a high-pitched keen leaving her lips as she collapsed inwards.
Throughout this entire ordeal, So’lek had kept himself composed to the best of his ability, relying on his will to keep him from intervening too soon. That will promptly dissolved.
So’lek gathered her into his arms, her knees nestled between his own. He tucked her head underneath his chin and held her tightly to his chest, hand cupping the back of her neck. She clung to him, fingers gripping at his vest, nose pressed tight against his neck. Little cries continued to bleed out of her, and she shook violently.
Voice low and gentle, So’lek whispered reassurances against her scalp, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin. He began to rock them slightly, needing the extra movement to reassure him that she was, at least at the moment, alive and breathing.
He did not have the words—not yet, anyways—to try and ease her pain. So, in his helplessness and utter devotion to the woman in his arms, he continued to hold her, to soothe her, to love her. He had no quick answers, no fix-all response, no experience with this dilemma whatsoever—but he did have himself, his presence.
So he vowed, as he held her close, that he would never let her face her demons alone again.
Idk if I should write the second part of this story about So'lek and my OC, I feel like the third person doesn't really work and I'm not totally satisfied with it
