modern day!au where gyatso lives and aang takes you to his childhood home to visit his dad. aang knows that gyatso will love you, he's gushed about you relentlessly to his old man and has said he plans on spending the rest of his life with you.
but aang is worried because despite how wonderful gyatso is, he has a knack of embarrassing aang. in the way a loving father would embarrass his son in front of his girlfriend. so aang is very much on high alert when he brings you over to meet gyatso for the first time and...
it goes swimmingly.
you and gyatso get on like a house on fire, cracking jokes with each other and bonding over shared interests. you're very much intrigued by his bountiful garden, wide-eyed and excited as he takes you through all his seasonal produce and blooming flowers. aang swears he sees stars in your eyes when gyatso peels and offers you an orange from his orange tree, happily shocked at the sweet citrus juice bursting over your tongue.
aang makes sure to say that he helped plant that tree, preening when you coo praises at him and pointedly ignoring gyatso's knowing smirk.
the visit continues going well...until after dinner when gyatso whips out an album from one of his book shelves as you all gather in the living room with mugs of tea.
"aang's baby pictures," gyatso announces, grinning and aang nearly spits out his sip of tea. "i thought you might like to look at them."
"you thought correct!" you exclaim excitedly, eagerly rushing over to sit by his side as he opens the book. "oh my goodness! aang!"
"dad!" aang shouts, horrified.
"oh hush," gyatso shushes. "there's no harm in her seeing you as a baby. you were quite adorable. wasn't he?"
you nod, beaming. "absolutely!" you squeal, turning a page before your expression crumples up from cuteness aggression. "goodness, baby, you had some huge ears, they're so adorable."
"never quite grew into them," gyatso chimes in, good-heartedly, and aang nearly dies right there; he'll never see the light of day again.
but when he sees how you and gyatso laugh together, at ease in each other's company like those in a family, aang's heart only softens further. and when gyatso calls him later that evening, his words only reaffirm what he's been feeling since the day he first met you.
"—and tell my daughter-in-law i'll make her orange chicken when you come over next time with the oranges she likes. i'll pick her a basket so she can take some home too."
SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ After months of cold shoulder from your boyfriend, the relationship finally comes to an end when a Reddit post spiraled into your best friend’s orbit, and the poster? Your own boyfriend. The embarrassment and shame brought onto your name began tumbling when he thinks you will come back —like you always do, he quotes— to him. However, this time your best friend had a plan in mind to prove your snobbish ex-boyfriend wrong. To set you up with her friend . . . Who is also going through a messy break up scenario of his own.
PAIRING ᯓ★ nerd! gojo satoru x fem! reader
TAGS ᯓ★ does not follow the original jjk plot . suggestive content . no smut (it is implied that gojo and the reader had sex, but will not be described) . gojo and the reader are in their 20s . pokemon lover gojo . gojo is a middle school student teacher . cursing . mentions of sex . naoya cameo . romcom stuff . fake dating . mentions of cheating (not done by gojo or the reader) . shoko cameo . suguru cameo . loneliness . slow updates
You were already up and about a couple hours before lunch, two weeks later, your laptop was right where you left it last night on the desk by your bed. The pan still laced with dried cracks from the instant ramen still on the coffee table along with the half-empty glass of water that had gone lukewarm from the quick dinner yesterday (and you promised to cut back on it after Shoko told you about how unhealthy ramen is). Stretching your limbs, you groaned softly, kicking the blanket off the lower half of your body.
Your fingers entered the depths of your hair, scraping against your scalp. Walking to the bathroom, you began doing your usual routine. One, brush your teeth. Two, wash your face. Three, get ready to meet Shoko after 2 weeks time. Which by the way, isn’t a record at all —the longest the two of you have been apart was 2 months when she unexpectedly got herself into volunteer medical work outside Japan.
You opted for (outfit of your choice) and walked out of your apartment, locking the door sluggishly. A yawn forced your lips to part in exhaustion, amongst the 2 weeks, your body worked solely on caffeine and instant ramen —most of the night— and lunch when you remember or hadn’t been to distracted about the client’s drawing. She had threatened you thrice to speak up online about your “slow respond on updates” and you actually did give her the permission to speak, but the post never surfaced.
Crazy. Somehow, you were glad when she accepted the final result of that commission. You thought that it’s worthy of a spot in your portfolio after all the drama you’ve went through with one person, “You look like shit, by the way,” Shoko muttered, sipping on her black coffee. She was one to say when she looked like she had just seen the sun after years.
“Back at you,” you replied, dunking your french toast in syrup, “I haven’t head a full lunch or a healthy dinner in two weeks, Ieiri. I feel like I’m dying.”
“You finished the work though, right?”
You hummed softly, “Yeah, this is the first delicious meal I’m having after work jail,” the fork stabbed into the piece of french toast you had just cut off, “and I got so much to tell you. Trigger warning, the second one is about my ex-boyfriend —but, I wanted to start off with that insufferable client. She texts me every hour and if I don’t reply, she calls me. Don’t even start with her nagging and constant revision, like . . . I understand that it’s my job but . . . Gosh, I just want to send her a slap online. Can you believe she threatened to speak up about my ‘slow responses’ online? I told her she could do whatever she wants.”
Shoko actually laughs, the crinkle in the corner of her eyes signifying her happiness. The sight made you groan, “Come on, you had seven years to prep for times like this. Plus, it shows that you can work under pressure. Good job for you,” looking at the bright side, the constant pressure from that client did made you a bit stronger mentally, you think. That even seeing her name pop up don’t make you dread ever owning a phone, “Okay, about the other guy then. Go.”
“Saw me in the diner near my apartment, the one I always go to. He took the time to park his car, and come inside to say hi,” and Naoya’s definition of hi equals to . . . Whatever unfolded 2 weeks ago, “told me some stuff about my drawing, and that his door is still open if I want to come back. Like, who does he think he is to talk to a future bestseller artist like that? Just wait little dickhead, I’ll expose you when I get big.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“It won’t be long,” your crinkled the straw wrapper inside your palm in annoyance, “you know what pissed me off? That he actually took the time to park and come inside to taunt me. Who the fuck does that? Naoya Zenin only. Gosh, if it weren’t for his parents, he’d be like any other hard workers —he’d be like me!”
Shoko tucked her hair behind her ear, “He’ll stop when he sees you happy with anyone who isn’t him. One, he doesn’t like seeing you happy while you were dating him. Two, I guarantee you that he’s going to get his panties in a twist when he sees you with another man quick like he’s nothing. I’m saying, I gave you two options, one didn’t work. We always have the other one,” she offered slyly, “Suguru?”
You grumbled under your breath, shaking your head. Your fingers held onto your straw, mindlessly swirling the (drink) sitting on the wooden coaster right in front of you, “I think I’m just going to focus on myself for now. I don’t have the energy to deal with . . . Fake dating and all, especially just to spite Naoya. He can suck my non-existent dick.”
“Alright then.”
“You sure that you don’t want me to drop you off? I don’t mind,” Shoko offered you, gesturing to her car.
You declined politely, “Yeah, I need to drop by somewhere, don’t worry about it,” and by somewhere, you meant the convenience store to get your hands on more instant ramen —or maybe this time, udon, at least you could cook it as you like, “thanks for today, Ieiri. Safe trips home, yeah?”
“Mm, you text me when you get hom, (Name). Don’t forget,” she pulls her car handle, waving her hand.
Shoko drove by, honking twice. You watch as her car turns around the corner before you set off to the nearest convenience store, the little automated bell chime greets you a syou made a beeline to the instant food section. Eyes immediately drawned towards the usual instant ramen brand of your choice, but your hand hovered ove rit hesitantly. For once, worried for your own health.
“Instant ramen serves excessive sodium, in case you aren’t hesitant enough. One packet —or serving— contains at least one thousand and seven hundred to two thousand miligrams of sodium, and up to eighty percent of the recommended intake of two thousand and three hundred miligrams. If you don’t know, high sodium intake increases your risks of obtaining hypertension, stroke, or organ diseases. Like the kidney.”
You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face, shifting your attention to the right where Satoru stood, cradling a few chips and energy drinks, “What else?”
He blinks, stammering out, “Studies shows that consuming noodles more than twice a week also associates your body to a higher risk of metabolic syndrome, which is a group of conditions including high blood pressure, blood sugar, and excess body fat. Also, instant ramen is very low in protein, fiber, vitamins, and minerals which leads to poor nutritional intake. Lastly, many instant noodles contain Tertiary Butylhydroquinone or TBHQ, a petroleum based perservative that causes you nausea, abdominal pain, and could potentially give you a long-term health issue if you consume them frequently.”
“Thank you, doctor,” you joked out, “I’ll get the udon, then.”
“You can add additional protein, like egg or meat. And veggies, it’s still a health hazard —but, at least you have everything your body needs,” he spoke out, eyeing the instant ramen section, “we keep bumping into each other in unlikely places.”
You look around, “It’s a public area. What is unlikely about it?”
“That we keep seeing each other.”
“Alright, good point, are you stalking me?” You questioned.
Satoru stepped a few steps away, “S . . . talking you? No, gosh, no! Never, I just happened to be passing by the area while walking home from work . . . I had to stay back late because of extra lessons,” the apple of his cheeks turned a deep pink color, tips of his ears raging red from your lighthearted accusation, “I’m sorry if it made you feel like that.”
You laugh, slidding the udon in between your arm and hip, “I’m joking, Satoru.”
“Oh,” a nervous laugh to cover his embarrassment echoes out through the aisle, “um, how did your client go? The commission, I mean.”
“I just sent it last night. She sent me the rest of the money, it’s done. After a lot of revisions, blood, sweat, and tears,” you recalled back, “and you? Teaching going well?”
He rubbed his head, “Yeah. Just going normal. Usual students making pranks, fialing classes . . . You know.”
“What brings you here?”
“It’s Friday, so I thought I should restock on my snack box . . . I don’t go out much on weekends, so I’m stocking up for tomorrow and Sunday,” the chips crinkled under his touch, “and you? Stocking up on instant ramen?”
You chuckled, “Was about to. But, thanks to you, I think I’m gonna be mindful about my own body now, I did have a lot of instant ramen the past two weeks because I kept forgetting lunches and dinner,” Satoru nods his head, “well, I’m not gonna stop you from shopping. Thanks for explaining about the whole health hazard.”
Satoru shakes his head, “I don’t mind. I actually enjoy giving out random facts.”
“Give me one.”
“About?”
“Anything.”
Satoru puckered his lips, and his eyes lit up, “The sea is home to the world’s largest living structure, such as the Great Barrier Reef. It measures around two thousand and six hundred kilometers, and it could even be seen from the moon. Also, the name ‘Pacific Ocean’ comes from Latin that says Tepre Pacificum which translates to peaceful sea,” his smile was proud, like he had won a superbowl. You laugh, nodding, “another fun fact. If you see a cloud, they look fluffy and . . . whimsical, but in reality? They weigh around a million tones. A cloud typically has a volume of around one cubic kilometer and a density around one point zero zero three kilograms per cubic meter, that’s a density around zero point four percent lower than the air surrounding it. Pretty cool, huh?”
Your jaw slightly dropped, “How do you know all these?”
“I’m a fast learner.”
“Or a memorizer?”
“Yes, that too,” he pointed out, “I can give you a couple more.”
“Go for it.”
He clears his throat, “The fear of long words is called hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia, this thirty-six letter word was used the first time by pa Roman Poet, Horace in the first century BCE to criticise writers with an unreasonable likeliness towards long words. It was an American poet named Aimee Nezheukumatathil, assumably afraid of her own surname who coined the term back in the year two thousand,” he spoke elegantly, his tongue didn’t twist over his own words, each word flows out as if he was reading out from a book, “orcas wear other animals as hats. This was observed by scientists. They said dolphins play catch with pufferfishes and octopus while orcas wear dead fishes as hats and nobody could explain why.”
“Interesting,” you crossed your arms, “you’re a genius.”
Satoru blushes, “Me? No. I just happen to read.”
“That’s what geniuses do, no?”
“. . . Yes, I guess,” he breathes out, “okay then, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Happy shopping,” he evaded, waving his hand towards you before he turns his heels and walks away with rushed steps, “bye, (Name)!”
“Bye, Satoru.”
A few steps before he turns around a corner, he halts. Stepping back with light pink cheeks, “Are you . . . Um, are you walking home alone?”
You nodded, “Why?”
“Do you want me to drop you off?” Your heart warmed at his offer, but you didn’t want to bother him, especially with your apartment complex being located deep amongst darkness and the slum, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you, Satoru. But, car access to my apartment is a bit . . . complex, I don’t want to bother you at all,” you shake your head lightly with a small smile, “I appreciate your offer though, thank you so much.”
Satoru swallowed a few times, “Okay. Be careful on your way home, (Name).”
It’s not rare for Zuko to find a member of this adventuring team suddenly cuddled up to him in the middle of the night.
It’s cold after all, isn’t it? Especially when they have to camp outside without tents, on the cold, hard ground— In a cave.
The Fire Lord himself is highly aware of how hot his body runs, how warm he was to the touch that it wasn’t strange for his friends to suddenly turn him into their portable, huggable heater on these cold, cold nights.
The problem is when you do it.
Cheek pressed against his chest, somehow replacing your thin blanket with his arm and wrapping it around yourself like he was your own comforter. If that wasn’t bad enough, you clung to his waist, fingers running down his abs on the days he chose to sleep without a shirt— Sighing into the crook of his neck as you slept atop of him.
(It was sinisterly cute.)
He tries to be a gentleman about it, tries to ensure that you remain asleep with a hand on your lower back, gently soothing when he attempts to get up for night watch, but you would groan— Stirring slightly the moment he even chooses to sit up; moaning softly as your eyes squeeze— And only relaxing when he laid back down.
If it were Sokka or Aang he’d probably pick them up and move them off of him, if it were Katara or Toph he’d try to be as subtle as possible but still be willing to let them rest a little longer—
But he can’t bring himself to wake you. It looks like another night shift will be spent with you in his arms.
But— The worst isn’t over yet.
“Zukoooo…” You’d stir in his arms, still clinging to him like he was your personal, giant pillow as you blearily look up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You’re awake already…?”
He’s already been awake. Especially with how you were shifting in his lap and rubbing up against his body with your own.
“Good morning to you too.” It’s meant to sound that little bit sarcastic with how he had quite literally watched you sleep, to make fun of the way you barely even stirred just because you were held in his embrace.
But with you— It just comes out so unintentionally soft; especially when he’s treated the sight of your half-lidded, sleepy gaze as your arms go around his neck to bury your face into his chest.
“You’re so warm, Zuko…”
“Mhm.”
And Sokka— The third to awaken; has to sit there and witness this before his eyes, has to become the unintentional third-wheeler as his jaw drops and his eyes narrow.
Who wants to watch a couple cuddle and coddle first thing in the morning when you desperately have to pee?
He still can’t believe you both aren’t dating yet as he ties his blanket around his shoulders, inching away as he grumbles under his breath.
hi hello 🤍 my contract wasn’t renewed and i’m currently unemployed. things are a bit tight right now, so if anyone is able to help out with bills or groceries, i’d be really grateful. no pressure at all—sharing is more than enough. here’s my ko-fi. thank you <333
Summary: You and Zuko meet at the Southern Restoration Conference, after which you are sent to the Fire Nation to aid the Fire Lord in his education reforms and as a diplomat for the water tribes. It's not long before you realise you'll be needed for more than your diplomatic skills.
Pairing: Zuko x (Fem)waterbender! reader
Content/warnings: A bit of fluff. Zuko and reader are only starting to have a crush on each other.
Wordcount: 2.8k
Author’s note: English isn't my first language. Not proofread. I haven't watched the film yet, so I'm starting this at the North and South ATLA comic. Just pretend it's a bit later than it actually is. Zuko and reader are in their 20s. I'm not entirely sure where this is going yet, I only have my very general plans but I want to watch the film in the meantime so I can be more aware of how Zuko is in his mid 20s.
Once he became Fire Lord, Zuko felt he had a duty to help repair the damages done by his nation to other territories. One of them was the southern water tribe, which had been nearly destroyed and no more than a single waterbender left, Katara.
The Northern Water Tribe had begun relief efforts for their southern brethren after the Siege of the North, and that was when you, along with other waterbenders from your tribe, made the journey south to help rebuild the tribe. Not long after the war ended, Katara returned to her village with Sokka and Aang, and they were amazed to see the quickness with which it had been rebuilt and repopulated, even though there was still much to be done.
You were quickly introduced to the trio by an elder from your tribe, a healer who had mentored you. Thanks to Katara’s previous visit to your tribe, things had begun to change, and women were now allowed to become warriors and hone their bending skills beyond healing. This finally gave you the opportunity to train under Master Pakku. Up until then, you had trained your bending skills in secret, watching the boys train and mimicking them in the dead of night, when no one was watching. Healing was an essential skill, something you thought everyone should learn, and when you finally mastered your bending, becoming one of Master Pakku’s best pupils, you gathered the elders to suggest the development of a new mixed training program. This coincided with one of the most important international events of the time: The Southern Restoration Conference, where world leaders were invited to discuss the Southern Reconstruction Project.
After getting the elders’ approval, the creation of the new waterbending education program became one of the official matters of the conference, and it was your responsibility to develop the project to present to the committee. That was when you finally met Toph, and when you and Zuko first saw each other. He was beautiful, his hair was dark and soft, and its shine was only surpassed by the glow of his golden-amber eyes. You expected the Fire Lord to act like, well, a Fire Lord, but his demeanour softened as soon as he laid eyes on his friends.
“Flameo, hotman!” Aang greeted as he flew in Zuko’s direction before hugging him tight.
“Aang, it’s so good to see you." The others quickly joined him in greeting the Fire Lord and began to catch up. When he laid eyes on you, standing there smiling at the sight of such a happy group of people, he instantly warmed up, so much so that Toph felt it and pulled you in to introduce you.
You would have found the blush in his cheeks strange if it weren’t for his sudden awkwardness and the warmth you felt emanating from him, like the heat from a bonfire on a cold winter’s night. What you didn’t realize was that this wasn’t common. Sure, Zuko, like most firebenders, could keep himself warm better than most people, but radiating this much heat was something that only happened when he felt something intense, usually rage.
When the time came for you to present the new education project to be discussed and established, he found himself fascinated by your proposals. You hadn’t just created a waterbending training program, you brought an entire project to create an international educational subject on the history and culture of all four nations, incentivizing an open, honest, and complete telling of history, as well as interaction and cooperation between the different peoples. Zuko had begun educational reforms in his own nation, and this project seemed to be exactly what he had been looking for.
All in all, the Fire Lord was enthusiastic about funding the Southern Reconstruction Project, and he requested a copy of your education project to take back to the Fire Nation so he could implement it in the reforms. You and Zuko spent most of the free time you had during the conference going into detail about each other’s ideas for a new cultural studies subject, and the way you hit it off had Katara and Aang exchanging knowing looks and coming up with their own thoughts.
“Why don’t you travel to the Fire Nation to help him?” She suggested a few weeks later as she watched you read yet another massive scroll sent by Zuko. “You’ve already set up everything here; the elders and I can manage the rest. Who better to help him implement it than the person who created it? Besides, we’ve been meaning to select a diplomatic envoy, and I think you’d be the perfect fit.”
“Me? Katara, I have no diplomatic experience.”
“That’s crap, and you know it, look how well you did during the summit! I understand if you don’t want to, but I’m also asking you as a friend.” Her expression became serious and her voice lowered. “Aang and I are worried about Zuko. There was an assassination attempt not too long ago, and there are many problems that were created by the hundred-year war that some will try to stop him from solving. You’re sharp, and one of our best healers, if something were to happen to him, you’d be his best chance of surviving. If we lose him, we won’t just lose a friend, we may lose the peace we fought so hard to achieve.” She wasn’t wrong. During the conference itself, a group of southern nationalists had kidnapped the Earth King and tried to sabotage the Southern Reconstruction Project, and surely there were more like them out there, intent on stopping any attempt at change.
“In that case, if you really think it’s important, and if the Fire Lord accepts it, I’ll gladly go.”
“Of course he will! I’ll write him a note and you can start making arrangements.” You prepared to get up, but Katara laid her hand on your shoulder to stop you from doing so. “One more thing, though.” She had that solemn expression again. “Do you remember how you saved Sakala after his seal hunting accident?” Your eyebrows knit together.
When Sakala had his hunting accident, the other tribe members had quickly dragged him ashore, and he was bleeding out quickly, way too quickly. You and Katara were trying to heal him as he was carried to the infirmary, but the blood kept pouring faster than you could, and he had already lost a lot, so you stopped it from flowing out. The rigidity in your movements gave you away, and she immediately knew what you were doing. When you got to the infirmary, she watched closely as you healed him, cleansing his blood and drawing as much as you could back into him. The way you moved now was different, more fluid, the same way you moved when healing or bending; she had never seen anything like it. “You know how I feel about bloodbending. You know how dangerous it is.” Katara made sure you knew. She asked how you had learned, and told you about her own skill and how she came to have it. To her surprise, you were horrified, and she quickly realized that you hadn’t even considered the possibility of using it for anything other than healing. “But you also know I trust you.” She held your hand with both of hers. “I know you’ll do the right thing if you ever need to.” You were confused by her statement. Of course you would use your skill to heal Zuko if it came down to it. Your relationship to bloodbending was different than Katara’s. You didn’t use it often, because it was seldom necessary, but you had only come to see how it could be dangerous when she told you. Until then, it had only ever been something good, something that saved lives in the most hopeless of moments, something you didn’t fear.
After only a couple of months at the Fire Nation royal palace, Suki, one of the Kyoshi warriors guarding the Fire Lord, knocked on your bedroom door in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need you to come with me.” She said quietly.
“What is it?” You rubbed your eye as you sat up.
“It’s Zuko.” You quickly got up and threw on your blue silk robe. “He tends to have trouble sleeping, but it’s been really bad lately. He hasn’t slept at all the past two nights. As soon as he falls sleep, he wakes up screaming, and now he’s getting paranoid and feverish.” The Fire Lord had been particularly busy for the past two weeks, so you hadn’t met to discuss the education reforms that had begun being implemented. You had seen him in passing a few days before, and although he was far away from you at the time, you could see the exhaustion in his face.
When you finally got to Zuko’s room, you noticed how much warmer it was. He was startled by the sudden footsteps and quickly sat up, his vision blurring for a moment, until it finally focused on the flowing blue silk of your robes. “Suki, I told you not to fetch her, I’m fine.” His voice was hoarse, his hair stuck to his forehead and neck, and the hollows in his eyes had a dark grey tinge.
“My lord.” You walked closer to the bed, and you could see a sheen of sweat over his burning skin. “Suki, can you open the windows and put out any fires in the room?”
“It’s Zuko.” He protested with a cough. The room fell into darkness as the fires were put out, until the window was opened and bathed it in bright moonlight.
“Sorry, Z-Zuko.” His bed was so big you couldn’t even reach his forehead to check his temperature. There was now a slight breeze clearing the stuffiness from the room. “May I?” You stretched out your hand toward him.
“Of course.” You sat on the bed so you could reach him, and he took a deep breath of relief when he felt your cold hand on his forehead.
“You’re burning up, much more than usual.” Suki came up beside you and laid a basin full of water on the floor, handing you a small towel in case you needed it.
“Do you need me to bring anything else?” She asked.
“The water is enough. Thank you, Suki.” You gave her a weak smile.
“I’ll be right outside standing guard with Ty Lee if you need anything.” With that, she left the room.
“I’m sorry she disturbed your sleep.” You bended some of the water from the basin to surround your hands and laid one on his chest and the other on his forehead, inciting another sigh of relief that made his eyes flutter closed. He was so hot, you instantly felt the water heat up in your hands.
“You should have asked for me sooner.” You moved the now warm water between your hands, turning it to ice before melting it again. “There’s no need to suffer through this by yourself and allow it to get to this point.” This time, your right hand found his chest, and the left came down to his lower belly, making his eyes shoot open and another surge of heat take over.
“What’re-“ Your hands were glowing faintly in a soft shade of green.
“Relax, Zuko. I’m just trying to bring your fever down.” He looked up at you as you tried to focus on your healing, and he couldn’t see how hard he was making it. Every time you got too close to him it made your stomach flutter, and it was even worse when you felt his amber eyes fixed on you.
“Do you know what’s wrong with me? Do you think I’ve been poisoned?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Suki says you’ve not been sleeping well, and you’ve been having nightmares. A restless spirit can be just as harmful as poison.” His temperature was now lower, so you removed your hands and let the water pour back into the basin. “Do you want to talk about it?” Your eyes met his, and there was a softness to them that made him want to tell you everything.
“I’m scared.” Zuko’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Of what?”
“Everything. Of failing in my role as Fire Lord, of becoming like my father, of making the wrong choices, of being assassinated.” His breath quickened as tears bloomed in his eyes, and you laid a hand on his chest to help him calm down, the glow coming from it was now lilac. Usually, your touch would have his heart racing, something he did his best to hide, but he felt it slow down along with his breathing.
“The Kyoshi warriors will always be here to protect you, and if someone does come, I won’t let you leave us. This kingdom needs you, just as the rest of the world, to help wash away the horrors of the past." Your thumb made a small caressing movement over his chest, something so natural you didn't even notice you did it. "As for your choices and your role, I’ve been working with you for a while now, and I can tell how much you care about your country and its people. The way you worry and burden yourself shows me you want to do the right thing. Aang and Katara have told me so much about you; I can see how much they love you and why.” He unconsciously brought his hand to yours, and the glow stopped. “I can’t imagine you becoming anything like the previous Fire Lord, even if he is your father.”
“Thank you.” He whispered.
“I know you’re under a lot of pressure, but it’s important to share your burden, even if it’s just by telling someone. Otherwise, I’ll have to keep your fevers down forever.” You both chuckled lightly, until he looked down and saw he was still holding your hand. He quickly removed it, the burn in his cheeks returning, and you nervously pulled your own hand away from his chest. “About your nightmares. Finding a way to feel less lonely would help relieve you greatly. " You hesitated for a moment. "You can talk to me anytime, if you wish to.”
“I’d like that.” He replied with an earnest smile.
“I can help keep them away for tonight, though. You really do need some rest.”
“How?”
“It’s a form of healing. I can ease your distress and bring you some relief as you sleep, and hopefully you’ll have some peace.”
“You’ll have to stay up, though. I couldn’t ask that from you.”
“I’m well rested, I can handle one night without sleep. You, on the other hand, have been trying to run a nation on no sleep.” Zuko meant to protest further, but something told him it would be useless. Besides, he really did need some sleep, and the thought of having you next to him through the night was more comforting than he’d ever admit to himself.
“Alright. But only for tonight.” He conceded.
“Only for tonight.” You smiled. “Lay as comfortably as you can.” Finally, he laid further down, on his back, and you got closer to him, sitting sideways against a mountain of pillows. “Ok, now just relax and try to sleep. I’m right here, I promise you’ll be okay.” He barely needed you to say anything. As soon as he felt the silk of your robe against his arm, the scent of your perfume, and your cool palm on his forehead, exhaustion began to take over, and for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t scared of sleeping.
After dawn, Suki came in the room to wake Zuko before she and Ty Lee switched shifts with two other Kyoshi warriors, and she found you half asleep against the pillows, your hand had come to rest on top of Zuko’s head, where your fingers were threaded through his hair, making it glow.
“Hey. You got him to sleep!” She whispered excitedly.
“Yeah, he really needed it.” You looked down at the Fire Lord’s serene expression as he slept. “I know he has a lot to do, but I’m sure you can talk to his assistant to have him reschedule some duties and maybe even cancel a few. I’d like to let him sleep a while longer.”
Suki smiled gently at your words and admired how relaxed Zuko finally seemed to be. “Of course. I’ll tell him the healer requested it. I’m sure no one will have a problem with having a well-rested Fire Lord." Before leaving, she drew the curtains closed so the room wouldn’t be so bright. "I’ll tell Aika to come check on you at lunch.” As soon as she closed the door behind her, you felt Zuko shift onto his side and bring his arm around your legs. You felt yourself blush but didn’t move, you only wished he was holding you knowingly, and that you could hold him too.
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 for the fire lord, days off are hard to come by — sprinkled between his duties like gold dust. on the rare occasion that fire lord zuko is able to be just zuko for a day, he decides to spend it falling in love with you. (5.8K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ safe for work ⋆ fluff ⋆ eighteen plus only. aang the last airbender, sorta canon compliant, characters are adults, extremely self-ship coded, mutual pining, childhood frenemies to lovers, zuko is kind of an idiot and a hopeless romantic, reader is a bit of a tsundre hehe, reader has braids, reader implied to be from the caribbean ( jamaica if it were in atla lol ), water bending influenced by caribbean culture. fire lord zuko, water bender and princess fem reader.
🏁 team radio ! ⋆ yippieeee it’s finally done !! my first full zuko one-shot!! this fic is kinda the basis of some selfship lore .. so it’s very precious to me and i hope you can enjoy !! i rlly wanna write more zuko with water bender reader so stay tuned!! click for more.
on the rare occasion — the fire lord is permitted to take a day of leave.
they are far and few, a rarity if you will. only appearing when the affairs of the fire nation settle into warm embers — showing no signs of turning to voracious political flames — and battle plans cease to exist, conflict seemingly solved as though they are arguments pairs of siblings have decided are no longer worth the fight.
the time is scarce, akin to gold dust, but cherished — like the moment the sun decides to pull apart the clouds in the middle of winter, just to kiss the expanse of your skin with her cascading, prosperous shafts of light. zuko reaches out to father time, taking him carefully by the hand as though his touch is something to be prized. something that will break beneath its worth to zuko. the cost of freedom. release from respect and honour and duty.
days off mean shedding a burdensome outer carcass of armour. what the fire lord wears proudly and what undoubtedly commands the most authority when black and red sweeps into a room and assumes the throne. however, the shell serves a dual purpose. it is, sometimes, also what zuko uses to mask his soft insides, where his organs are a very vulnerable mush, where he is sensitive and he takes the time to mull over the fall of his words because they need to be gracious — to not come off as a third degree burn. sometimes, zuko speaks sweetly like the careful craft of honeycomb, it’s healthier that way and better for his soul. better than what he grew up to know between palace walls.
when the mask drops and the armour clatters to the floor after it — zuko can be himself, let the tension roll off of him like the ocean’s steady drum beat against its sandy substrate counterpart. he can be free. like he is with his friends and the people who truly love him.
so it comes as no surprise when fire lord zuko becomes just zuko and chooses to spend his twenty-four hour release with you.
duties have decided to be kind to you both. falling away and granting you a day where the stars align as though they’ve been perfectly hung next to each other in the sky — and the two of you have time to spare, time to spend by one another’s side. the princess no longer adorning her crown and the fire lord abandoning his armour.
“what will you do?” zuko averts his eyes, amber finding cold slabs of stone beneath his feet more entertaining than the natural grace of the western water tribe’s very own princess. it’s amusing how shy he turns in the presence of someone who’s known him so long. even still, you treat him with the same amount of care as one would a beloved keepsake, as though he is the very book you reach for when new material runs dry. whose pages greet you with familiar scents of ash mixed with lost love. “w-with your time away?” he adds quickly.
the final council meeting of the week has long since ended. he finds himself at your side and a tower too high above your head as you walk with nowhere particular in mind. away from duty. away from honour. free. like a bird making use of its wings after hibernation.
the grin you give zuko slips onto your face as though it’d been hiding somewhere away from the world, buried in the kinetic sand. “home.” where the water warms you and the sand is smooth and white and soft between your toes. a tropical solace away from the claws of advisors and military clerks. you stop in your tracks, the sea that you wear on your clothes fluttering around you — light, like sakura petals drifting in the breeze. then you pause, as though you’ve been struck by a poised tip of lightning — and if you lean into him any closer, the shock might wind between you both and zap right through him. “would you like to join me? you could use the sun on your skin and some warmth to your face, fire lord.”
accepting your invite is as easy as turning a page, following the kind of naturalness that accompanies the desire to read past the final chapter before bed. zuko finds himself wanting to investigate between the lines of what he already knows from reading about you. you’ve been scorched by him before, as children, teenagers who moved with the type of attitude that feels like the world has dubbed them a mistake. he couldn’t tell you how he felt about you then, when he hadn’t learned the words or known how to protect you from himself. but he can now, now that you’re older and perhaps willing to forgive him.
zuko follows you home for the day, with the hope of understanding the involuted web of his feelings. spider’s silk interwoven into a future he can't see, a mess he can’t make sense of.
those emotions that linger between every breath of saltine air — inhaled in his nostrils fresh, crisp like the snap of an apple. biting against his cheeks. different to that of the fire nation. his feelings sit there, ones he can’t explain away with battle plans and politics. things that make sense to him. not blurred or jumbled. you are confusing, complex, a puzzle piece he has trouble finding the right place for or an equation that has taken several centuries for even the best mathematicians to solve. yet, he’d follow you away from his home just for a taste of yours.
the western water tribe welcomes zuko with wide spread arms, as though he has finally come home. he’s visited before, on state business and for missions lead by aang… but not just for you. not with just you. at first the fire lord thinks that those of the tribe turn towards him just as if he were a source of godly light or heat — much like the spirited wildlife that weaves its way through the walls and arenaceous streets of your equatorial kingdom — because, like you, he is royalty. he is respected.
instead, zuko’s heart beams and yours shies away ( like the running tide, back home to its mother, the moon ) once he learns that is really because of how fondly you spread word of him around the kingdom — the cabbalistic message is passed onto him from the people of your tribe. tales told to children born of salt water depicting him as a hero, your hero, in battle. secrets and gossip shared with elders who are loose-lipped confirming his beauty, his kindness. harsh critique and comparison to the fire nation passed onto the guards in the most leery parts of your kingdom — that compliment his battle strategy rather than disparage it like his elders.
in his absence, you speak of zuko with a certain air of fondness; the type that goes hand in hand with missing someone. someone more than a friend, but not quite a lover. someone who passes you like you are two ships passing by on different routes. different waters. longing lingering in the sea spray, heartache from the stars and the moon directing their crew.
perhaps, zuko observes, it is time to stop sailing on by.
your laughter is light and kind and submerges him like the roots of a lily pad making a host out of spring stream — polite behind your hand — when the handmaids in your palace make an attempt to convince the fire lord that blue looks best draped against the pearlescent notes of his skin, rather than red. there’s a look of dread that washes over zuko’s features like a spill of oil on the surface of the sea. slick on his lips as they downturn at the corners, forming an amusing pout, whilst he turns in the mirrors. fabrics twirl loose and foreign on his body. free. where the lord’s usual armour sits tight and restricting like a militant regime.
but then you melt when you look at him, as though you’re made of mercury or tungsten touched by a torch burning at the highest torrid degrees. palpable affection generously bubbling over, as though you’re admiring the most beautiful piece of art you’ve ever seen, almost as if he belongs where you do and where that is…is here.
he decides then that casting his anchor here would not be so bad.
“do not worry,” you are honest when you reassure the fire lord. the beginnings of your heart, which he had once splintered unwittingly in his youth out of fear he could not love the way he had never been taught to, staring to peer out from its glass cage in your chest and behind the rise and fall of your ribs. “the colours match your eyes perfectly.”
blue and yellow. amber and indigo. the sun and the sky. the tropical fish and the marine sea.
the colours of your home and your kingdom. the same colours that have and will stream through your life from start to finish, only dulling to grey when you inevitably come to pass and fade from this world. the very colours of the people who have taken their time to help shape you into the formidable woman you are today.
as soon as you say it, heat floods your face and broils beneath the surface of your sun-drenched skin. as soon as he hears it, zuko averts his gaze — feigning interest in the smooth silk that kisses his fingertips as though an angel had been there. his smile is tiny, breaching his visage. in the same manner that a blue whale would surface for air — gradual, slow, with the need to bring life into itself and the eyes of others.
“thank you,” he unveils the compliment with carefully crafted earnestness — like protecting a sandcastle from the torrid temper of the sea on a bad day — overcoming the lodge in his throat to force his quiet fondness for you into the salty air. “yours too.”
this time, you look away — but he does not miss the spread of your lips into your cheeks. radiant, yet shy. something precious, a delicate secret. for him and for you.
zuko thinks that he could stay here, set carefully adrift to become one with the landscape. spilling into the picturesque view of your kingdom as if someone had knocked over a palette of watercolour.
that afternoon, zuko walks by your side with a little more confidence. the tropic’s coastal zephyr moves through your hair with the same force as unbridled joy — let loose, carrying no weight from the world and its own problems.
it whips through the airy material of your clothes — shades of sapphire and ruby glimmering in the summer shine to your kingdom. you match each other, parallels of the elements that somehow go together. water and fire turn into fingers in gloves, two sides of the same coin, or two halves of a whole. faultlessly fashioned keys for long lost locks that open things never meant to be closed.
you are harmonious in a way zuko wished he believed in when he was younger. perhaps then there wouldn’t be this awkward distance between you — a push and pull of magnets that comes with the orbiting of one another. if he had realised back then, that loving you was nothing to fear in the first place, he wouldn’t have to wait for a pause in his duties to spend more than a morsel of time with you. searching for scraps in between schedules and missions just to breathe the scent of salt in your hair and sweet hibiscus on your skin — it's a desperation that wouldn’t even exist.
because you would be his and he would be yours and nothing, not even a whisper, could keep zuko from you.
now, he is six hours into a day by your side that seems to be slipping through his coarse fingers like sand in an hourglass. except the day cannot be endlessly flipped to start again.
“i want to show you around,” you say with the cadence of someone who is proud of the roots their existence is founded on. there’s love in your heart, not just for your nation but it’s mothers and the mothers before them. zuko isn’t sure he knows what that’s like — the pride of being fire nation doesn’t come with tenderness. killing. lying. treachery. love comes from only a few close people in his life, fleeting presences like a small spark between rocks. his mother. uncle iroh. his friends. you.
“but we don’t have much time left. there’s so much to see.” you add, your wistfulness curling into a pleasant gust of sea breeze as though your tone is reaching for a hand of comfort. these days, memories of your home grow faint despite the manners in which water holds it shape — between royal duties, adventures with aang along with the others and travelling in the hopes of keeping peace — replace what you knew as a child,
palm trees wave to zuko as though they are friends he seems to have forgotten. something tells him that they know you too, calling to their queen as if to offer some kind of reassurance. the sand is still the same; even when the water dries; the parts of you that die still leave memories that remain. he doesn’t want you to be sad, to think that the kingdom you lead with such grace has forgotten about the lopsided grin from your youth and the funny way that you laugh to fill the silence, when the sound of turning tides is missed. he wants you to know that every flower of every tropical taint wishes to mimic your sweetness and your scent, that the people walking this path pause with awe when you smile at them as though they are family.
your home loves you in the way that a mother loves her growing child. no matter the time apart, there are hands there to mend the holes in your heart with a stitch bearing threads of affection.
the fire lord’s thoughts skip back to the present, your swaying fingertips brush. a sign. a vote of confidence for zuko.
breathing clean air into his lungs before he takes a leap, the firelord he claps at your hand in a silent promise of forever — one as vast as the stretching blue, deep as it is wide. zuko stands before you, willing to run wherever with you by the guidance of the beach’s breath — something firm about his grip, tender like he’s been blessed with something more precious than pearls and oil where he is but the foolish man that would dare to waste them. the carefree gentle lines of his face that creep into the edges of his scar read as though he knows which direction to head. as if he’s lived here within the western water tribe all his life and the song of the seashore knows his name, writing it in seashells right next to yours. destined in handwriting forged from the fingertips of the forces of nature.
“then show me the parts you love the most,” zuko heaves with admission — heart open, flame free. “on our next day off, show me the rest. i want to see it all by your side.” he crafts his response with the same heedfulness as an artist close to completing a portrait — each brushstroke perfectly poised to ensure every colour conveys proper meaning.
the cognac and honey hue to his eyes have always signified safety and virtue.
you can trust when zuko says he wants to see it all.
see it all.
with you.
a wave crests against the sea wall that you walk together. thick and bold concrete that once would protect against the fire nation — but today, you think, you might let the defence fall. just enough to let him in.
“what about the day after that?” you whisper.
acting on an impulse of bravery, he squeezes the palm of your hand.
“i’ll show you my home. more than just the council room.” he murmurs back.
the implication is flirtatious, yet entirely too honest, see through like a sheet of paper held up to subtropical. perhaps there’s slightly more to zuko that you understand now that he’s older — you see his attempts to try. to fix what he broke as a boy with nothing but his honour at stake. at first your girlish heart feels scared to lean into it and trust the words to catch you like a friend who stands with open arms when you fall.
but then you remember that you know him, like the salt only knows a home swirling at sea and the fishes know their reef, and the tide knows its tune.
“okay,” you grin with the easy focus of someone taking the lead. ready to show zuko the world whilst intertwining your fingers like the stronghold rope your ancestors have used to fish and to survive for centuries before your birth. tied and knotted together with purpose. maybe, there is some kind of purpose in sharing this time with zuko — two souls bound to meet under the same sky with their fortune written in the cosmic stars. maybe. you lean into the feeling. you take him where your heart thrives most.
you take zuko to the places where time stands still. the fish market that bustles with life by the docks, where he haggles with the monger to bring down the price and somehow leaves with three red snappers — that he has no idea how to prepare — and a lobster he’d grown fond of due to its rich blue shell. (“will you eat it?” “i don’t think i can, it’s too cute.”). then, you spend two hours rock pooling with the children darting from the school house down to the cove — because apparently they find it mind blowing that the fire lord has never touched a star fish before.
unfortunately for them, you scold them all. including zuko, reducing the lord to an apologetic mess — because he almost finds himself poisoned by a brightly coloured sea slug lodged between bleached coral and barnacles. whilst bushy tailed and vibrant in personality, the children eagerly show zuko how to crack a muscle with nothing but a rock and the type of strength only a determined child would possess. their laughter meets the sea’s cooling breath at zuko’s many failed attempts.
his temper flares like that of bursting firework, a blush on his cheeks that rivals the red of his scar, because you’re watching and although it’s childish — he feels a need to prove himself to you. the failure, temporary, is worth it. for your hands gritty with sand and yet as soft as the briny ocean air against his cheeks, you teach him how to crack it open. cold water fingers on fiery warm skin. two opposites that make a whole.
zuko he finds a pearl within a clam, one he gifts to you because it had reminded him of the gleam in your eyes. something about his boyish charm and the way he nearly slips on seaweed slick rocks just to give it to you as you tend to the children, melts your heart into a fond stupor. where the walls of your palace are adorned with the kind offerings and riches of the sea, a simple onyx pearl from the fire lord himself means more than anything in the world to you.
someone who has everything, including the burdens of her own crown.
around lunch, an auntie at her market stall goads the young fire lord into trying a saltfish fritter — forgetting to mention the notes of scotch bonnet tucked into the batter and you swear on all things avatar that steam rolls from his ears and nose at the level of spice on his tongue.
“you can’t handle a little heat? you’re the fire lord!”
“i — hah — don’t see you trying one!” he fans his tongue with the same fierce determination that aang, the air bender, often displays.
with silver coin you buy him a coconut flavoured ice-drink from another merchant, hoping it’ll cool the fever in his mouth. it melts too quickly between the warmth of zuko’s palms because you’re so close it makes him nervous enough to sweat.
“ah, here!” you coo without realising. smaller palms gliding over zuko’s like water running over polished glass. “don’t let that melt.”
ice crystallises over the outside of his cup, freezing the condensation in place — it’s not as though you’ve frozen time but to the fire lord, the moment lasts forever. the instinctivity of your touch, the ease in which you tend to him, his stomach turns over itself like the switch of a current when the weather swaps its mood.
he gulps, swallows — studies you with wonder like you’ve turned wine to water. “thanks… thank you, princess.”
your own gaze follows the trail of his whispered words upwards, and your eyes meet. his laden with the kind of longing you’ve seen only exist between those destined to love in the stars. yours with surprise, hidden yearning lost in the colours of your eyes that reflect the light of sun on sea.
princess.
the pet name makes you turn away with embarrassment. zuko coughs to conceal his own.
any onlookers must think their princess and the lord are utterly, tragically hopeless.
eventually, zuko finds himself entertaining the littler water benders, whilst you nurse the village back to order. too kind to say no to the people of your home when they seek your help — even on your day off. he doesn’t mind it too much, a spark of idolatry sitting within his sternum as he kindles flames for them to easily put out using splashes. as they grow bored, zuko sits still and patient as the young water bender girls take to weaving tropical flowers into his ink black hair — three clambered into his lap and clinging to the broadness of his frame as they work with the better determination than his handmaids back home. you pretend that the jealousy in your gut isn’t there when you catch the sweet little girls ask him to marry him and if they’ll become princesses when they do.
zuko laughs them off, polite and patiently, gentle as the wisp of clouds streaking through the sky. “you should want to marry someone because they love you. not because they’re a prince.”
“do you love someone, fire lord zuko?” one of the girls ask, nuzzling into his arm — eyes wide and glimmering like the surface of the sea catching on the sun.
like second nature, amber eyes find your figure flowing through your tribe’s village as if you’d never left — carving out your path like water does when forming a new river channel. you move so naturally, playing with children one moment before you’re helping the elders wash their fruit and prep their fish in the next — rinsing it all off with your delicately practised water bending and his heart skips a beat as if it were missing from his chest for just a moment.
“very much,” he hums around the words that feel like a weight off his chest to say, warm in the sense that they roll through his blood stream in search of replacing any cortisol there. of course, with a sprinkle of dopamine. “i think i always have.”
the fire lord — no — zuko, realises with frightening devastation that he loves you and never wants to leave you. here. home. he wants to be the wind beneath your soaring wings if you were to ever become a bird of the sea. he wants to wake up next to you with the view of crystallised aquamarine waters every morning and sometimes the burnt orange skies of his own nation. he wants to explore the chambers of your heart like a hidden cove off the coast and claim it as his own personal, secret treasure.
later that night when the cries of gulls have quietened to the simple beat of their wings and the tropical sun tiptoes down the horizon to rest — zuko stands before you on the sea shore, heart on his sleeve so unlike him. so rare. feelings were never something that existed when he was younger, they were to be had and never to be spoken. the only emotions he knew how to express were rage. bitterness. souring anger.
you’ve found your way to the beach once more; you know that his boat will dock here in the early hours — but you feel it would be better to say goodbye away from prying eyes of palace officials and diplomats that only wish him well for the sake of appearances and peace. quietly, you tip toe along the line of frothing white peaks of water and golden sand — arms out as if the wind will catch you if you fall from the unsteady drum to your heart. zuko follows you, not too close and not too far, as though he needs the space to think.
to speak what’s brewing in his mind, taking on the shape of a storm front.
now, with the sky tinged pink, like his cheeks with the fresh heat in his face — zuko tells you of the warmth that burdens his heart as best he can. awkward, but still trying.
“i think i might be in love with you.”
your body is still, then, but your garments — blue robes traded for something looser, teal ocean turned into silk — moves with the sea breeze that whips behind you. takes the ends of your braids and twirls it through windy fingertips.
“might?” you ask, pure and curious.
“i know it.” zuko swears in return, quickly, like he’s been asked to recite an oath in exchange for his life.
crossing your arms over your chest, as though you’re shielding your vital organs from a cruel jab, you frown. “it doesn’t take a day to fall in love, my lord.”
formalities come up quickly like a sea defence. you shield yourself from the angry wrath of your sea of memories. rejection from the past spilling over into the present day.
“yes princess,” he is even more hasty in his reply during this turn of conversation, in the sense that it almost feels like he is running out of time. your day off has dissolved like ice on hot rock, trickling away from you into a distant memory. soon, a boat will arrive to whisk him home and then there will be nothing but space between you once again. “but it has been years. since i—” zuko swallows. “since i first knew.”
“zuko.” you’re warning him, as one does before finding themselves eye to eye with an equatorial storm, because you’re not sure if you can go back to the way you felt before. humiliated and foolish. you’re no longer a little girl, a princess waiting for her crown and zuko isn’t the prince who left everything he knew behind anymore — yet somehow he manages to wave it all away. the duty, the honour, the pressure put on young shoulders and the standards to uphold.
you’re both children again, ones who feel like the world will end if they don’t do it right — hardly any room between their hearts and their lungs to take in love behind every breath and shout it out from roof tops where words stay trapped behind their teeth. was it love back then? when you had confessed your brewing feelings to zuko like it was as natural as bending and shaping the water to your will. how can it be love now? when you exist as different versions of yourselves. carved like a coast, adapting to circumstances like water takes to the vessel it is contained by.
he whispers your name. “it doesn’t take a day to fall in love… but it has taken just one… for me to be brave,” zuko’s feelings spill from his lips like the blood of ocean prey drawn into water by a predator — crimson against cerulean. you didn’t ask for an answer, but his comes as though it is a kiss pressed to your lips, unable to conceal a lie that’s lasted a decade. a falsehood where he doesn’t return your affections. “i’m not… i don’t lead with my heart. i walk into fights with my mind, not my emotions, because if i do, then the people i care so deeply about get hurt. but… the greatest battle i’ve ever been in, is the one where my heart fought with my head and i failed to tell you what’s really been in my heart this entire time.”
“i love you,” salt sits in the cracks of his lips as he licks them, anxiety sitting like a rock made of dense peridotite in his chest — weighing down his heart. if there was any inkling of you feeling the same, it would lift him. “you… you don’t have to return any feelings for now. o-or at all! you may have even lost those feelings for me but…” zuko stumbles through his words, ones that take the shape of bended metal bullets — now that they sit bare between you both like a stretch of sand between shore and sea — he cannot take them back. “but just know it’s always been there, lingering in my mind, and i know now. that i have always loved you.”
the fire lord lays out his confession as though he is stood at the gallows begging for mercy on his life.
and the realisation does not strike you all at once. instead, it is slow like the slip of the sun beneath the horizon as the world turns on and day fades into night. the whole day, you’ve been walking the edge, the thin and fine line that marks the divide between nostalgic comfort as friends and something a little more than lovers. like offering a shell that shines in the palms of zuko’s hands, he lets the decision land in your court. you decide what comes from this, where the winds take your spirits next.
for zuko, it has always been you. never a doubt. a single fact that rings true for as long as the heavens and sky above remain blue underneath pure white cotton cloud cover.
what is it for you? was he always it for you?
the version of the world from your eyes begins to blur with the tears that well in them. everything becomes a mess of water coloured skies and visions of zuko’s sunset silhouette as they fall fast while meaning well, a lifting relief washing away any dark in your heart like the way the waves rinse written word from sand. “you are so stupid, it’s nearly insulting,” you blubber, akin to your childish self from the past — stumbling into the fire lord’s arms before he can even think to hold them open for you. “the audacity for you to even believe, that for a second, that i stopped—”
you nuzzle into his chest, his arms wrap around you like the sea that welcomes you home every time. familiar. warm against your skin. “that i ever stopped loving you,” you birth the words against his chest, covered in your colours and your fabrics and your life story. you feel his heart beat against your lips, your damp cupid’s bow, wild like the wind and somehow — calming. “the fire nation is ruled by an idiot.”
“i-i’m sorry?” zuko barks out a half laugh, one that whirls between the butterflies ablaze in his stomach.
“don’t make it worse.”
“i won’t anymore,” he quips, toes curling in the sand as if to hold himself steady. perhaps he feels faint, because in truth, you want him too. “it’ll be better. i will be.”
“i love you, zuko,” with your chin rooted against your chest, you peer up at the prince now grown into your first and only love — clinging onto his embers that catch in sea breeze as if to keep him in this moment with you forever. your confession vibrates through his bones and settles in their weariness, soothing their ache, letting his limbs rest after swimming against his true current for so long. “like the moon loves the sea. i miss you when you’re not with me, like the moon misses the sun when it sleeps.”
“i know. i’ve always known and i’m sorry that it took me so long to meet you here,” he commits, meeting you the rest of the way. under the same sky, a solar eclipse of two hearts. opposites. “i’m also sorry for being a teenage boy,” zuko chimes, unlocking a memory and distant conversation. “katara tells me that we are all the same.”
“you mean stupid? i’ve come to like you that way.”
you beam with the same kind of mirth that zuko has always known to make his heart stop. from the moment he met you when the world needed saving up to now — where every person and every nation is coming to terms with the concept of peace. building a new future of harmony has not been easy and every day you do your parts to ensure the world never sees what it was one hundred years ago, ever again. right now, zuko thinks, he could be at peace, adrift with you like this. all the time. forever more, if you’d have him.
“love, don’t you mean?” the fire lord retorts after some silence lost to the roll of waves along the beach. answering your question with another question. his tone playful, voice lowered to a breathy whisper that coasts along the shell of your ear until you shudder wholly against him.
seeking warmth in him amidst the cooling tropical eve.
“shut up.” you say, not cruel. just careful and shy. you don’t pull away — even when the temperature drops to an icy evening chill and the moon breaks through the clouds to take the hand of the tide, luring it back to sleep and signifying the birth of night.
zuko shrouds you, crowds you into a hug — the type you give when you’re trying not to forget the way happiness feels. he refuses to let you slip through his fingers, not now, not ever again. “never,” he murmurs, like a quiet release of breath that runs along the coast of your hairline. “you’ve got me.”
his final words fall like the precise stroke of a sword and land exactly where you need them. you can’t doubt him now, when they’re as good as a promise. zuko loves you and that is fact, written in scripture for generations to come and read and know like your love is to be treated as a piece of crucial history.
a boat will come in the morning to bring zuko back to the fire nation where he will resume his throne, bare the burdens and lace up his armour once more. except when he leaves, it won’t be dread that courses through his body and his soul — rather, it’ll be a sense of calm, the memories of your heart in his hand as he’s set adrift with you occupying his mind.
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
A/N: Maybe OOC. Do let me know what you think. Sorry the title sucks, I had no clue what to write. Comments and Reblogs appreciated.
Bruce Wayne loves showering together. Both of you are standing below the shower head, water droplets dripping across your skin. You reach for the shampoo, lathering it over his hair, threading through each strand while he does the same to you moments later. There is a certain level of intimacy when you bare your bodies for nothing sexual but just love and warmth, to let your lover see every crevice, every blemish, every scar that grazes your skin.
Bruce Wayne loves slow dancing. No, not the ones he does at Galas – Genuine but glazed with calculation, a little performative, courtesy to the audience- but the ones he does at home. His hands are on your waist, yours looped around his neck, while the soft, dim lights illuminate the room, accentuating the curve of your smile as your head tips back in a laugh at something he said. Oh, how he loves your laugh You both are in your pajamas, ready to embrace the sleep slithering at the edges. He loves dancing, he thinks, planting a kiss on your forehead, sweeping you towards the bed.
Bruce Wayne loves solving puzzles with you. Both of you are sitting on the floor of the manor library, cross legged with pieces of a jigsaw puzzle scattered but cohesive – coming together to paint the full picture. There are two bowls – chocolate-covered strawberries and popcorn – on either side of you, along with glasses of dark red wine. Your hair tickles his forehead as you lean while trying to fit the pieces, unaware of the blue warm eyes fixed on you - momentarily stunned. This was one of the reasons he loved solving puzzles in the company of you - seeing you all focused, eyes squinting with your lips pursed - you looked really sexy too.
Bruce Wayne loves going on dates – not the extravagant or planned ones (he likes them too), but the spontaneous ones- like going to the ice cream parlor or walking ace at the local park. He liked the mundane moments – where he could forget about everything else. Right then, it was only you and him.
I heard you were looking for some request for Zuko 🔥 how about this:
Zuko & his wife (reader) are sitting in a grand council meeting however the chamberlain is a bit to disrespectful & thinks that no woman should be in the meetings. After hearing some harsh words the reader storms out with Zuko defending her & finding her somewhere in the overly large palace. Whatever happens after I’ll leave that to you🙂↔️
The Firelight Between Us
Pairing: Adult! Zuko x Reader
Summary: a tense council meeting, a line crossed, and zuko making it very clear where he stands.
Word Count: ~4k (estimate)
Warnings: sexism, confrontation, established relationship, soft intimacy
Author’s Note: this is set when zuko’s already fire lord and you’re married + working as his advisor. so it has a bit of sexism (which kind of pissed me off as well haha) but yea. I hope you like it! constructive criticismis more than welcome :)
The grand council chamber was a monument to Fire Nation power—towering columns of polished obsidian stretched toward a vaulted ceiling, and the afternoon sun filtered through high windows in rich, amber streams. The space was deliberately designed to make anyone within it feel small, insignificant.
Everyone except him.
The grand council chamber was a monument to Fire Nation power—towering columns of polished obsidian stretched toward a vaulted ceiling, and the afternoon sun filtered through high windows in rich, amber streams. The space was deliberately designed to make anyone within it feel small, insignificant. Everyone except him.
You'd always thought Zuko managed to make even this intimidating room feel less suffocating simply by occupying it with such quiet certainty.
He sat elevated on the Fire Lord's throne, resplendent in his ceremonial robes—deep crimson silk that caught the light like liquid fire, gold embroidery tracing intricate patterns across his broad shoulders. The structured shoulder plates caught the afternoon gleam, a physical manifestation of the burden he carried. His dark hair, longer now than in his younger years, was partially pulled back with a gold clasp, the rest cascading past his shoulders in a way that made him look simultaneously powerful and almost gentle.
Almost.
You could see the faint tension in his jaw as Chamberlain Katsuro spoke—a man who'd served three Fire Lords before Zuko, and who clearly resented that the world had changed since his youth.
"The proposal submitted by the Trade Minister is sound," Katsuro was saying, his voice dry as ash. "Though I must note that we would be far better served if our Fire Lord consulted with his actual advisors on such matters, rather than allowing…" He paused, his eyes sliding toward you with barely concealed disdain, "…sentimental influences to cloud his judgment."
You felt the temperature in the room shift. Not literally—though with Zuko, one never entirely ruled that out—but the energy changed. Sharpened.
You'd been married to the Fire Lord for three years now, and you'd served as his economic advisor for four before that. You had a degree from the Royal Academy, had spent two years studying trade routes in the Earth Kingdom, and had personally negotiated three major treaties that had strengthened the Fire Nation's economy considerably. But apparently, none of that mattered to a man who still believed that a woman's place was in the home, bearing children and arranging flowers.
"Perhaps," you said quietly, your voice cutting through the heavy silence that followed Katsuro's words, "the Chamberlain would like to review the specific metrics of the last three trade agreements I've negotiated? Or does experience and education matter less to him than the fact that I happen to possess ovaries?"
Several council members made sharp, indrawn breaths. One of them—Minister Tang—actually smirked.
But Katsuro's face darkened with anger at being challenged. "Your position here is a courtesy, nothing more. The Fire Lord indulges you because of your… relationship. But make no mistake—you have no actual authority, no real qualification beyond—"
"That's enough."
Zuko's voice was quiet. Dangerously quiet. The kind of quiet that came from a man who'd spent decades learning to control an inferno within his very soul.
He rose slowly from the throne, and the room seemed to contract around him. The gold embroidery on his robes seemed to glow in the afternoon light, and his scar—that weathered, familiar mark that you'd traced with your fingertips more times than you could count—was thrown into sharp relief as he turned his full attention toward the Chamberlain.
"You will apologize," Zuko said, his voice steady and final. "To my wife. Now."
"Fire Lord, I merely—"
"You will apologize," he repeated, and this time there was heat in it—literal heat, you could feel it radiating from him like a furnace, "or you will tender your resignation effective immediately. Choose."
Katsuro's face had gone pale. After a moment of strained silence, he bowed stiffly. "My sincerest apologies, Fire Lady. I spoke out of turn."
The words were hollow as a burned-out husk, but you nodded curtly in acknowledgment before you stood. You could feel every eye in the room on you, but you didn't meet any of their gazes as you walked toward the chamber doors with your head high.
You heard him stand, heard the rustle of those heavy robes, but you didn't wait. You couldn't. If you stayed even one more second in that room, you were going to say something that would make the political situation infinitely worse, and you wouldn't do that to him. Zuko had worked so hard to build a Fire Nation based on honor and respect rather than fear and domination.
You wouldn't let Katsuro and his archaic views undermine that.
The palace corridors were a labyrinth, and you navigated them with the familiarity of someone who'd come to call this place home. Your feet carried you away from the official chambers, past the war room, away from the administrative wings until you found yourself in the private gardens.
This had become your sanctuary—a place designed by some long-ago Fire Lord who'd believed that even in a fortress of power, there should be spaces for beauty. Red and gold flowers bloomed in carefully tended beds, and a small waterfall trickled down black stone into a reflecting pool that mirrored the sky above.
You sank onto the stone bench beside the water, suddenly exhausted. Not from the meeting itself, but from the effort of always having to be perfect, always having to prove yourself twice as capable as the men around you simply to be considered equal.
"I wondered if I'd find you here."
You didn't turn—you'd recognized his footsteps immediately. Zuko moved with the controlled grace of a master martial artist, but there was a particular way he walked toward you, a softening in his usual military bearing.
The stone sank slightly as he sat beside you, and he was close enough that you could feel the residual warmth still radiating from him. He still smelled like incense and something uniquely him—smoke and sandalwood and home.
"I'm sorry," you said quietly, still looking at the reflecting pool.
"For what?" There was a note of something in his voice—amusement, perhaps, or simple confusion. "You did nothing wrong."
"I challenged him. In front of the entire council. I made it difficult for you."
Zuko was silent for a moment, and then you felt his hand find yours. His palm was warm, calloused from years of firebending, and he linked his fingers through yours with the kind of gentle certainty that made your chest tighten.
"You know what I see when I look at you?" he asked softly. "I see someone brilliant. Someone brave enough to stand up to men who've held power for decades and tell them the truth, even when it's uncomfortable. I see my wife, who's made more progress on rebuilding our relationship with the Earth Kingdom than my diplomats have in three years."
You finally turned to look at him, and found him watching you with those amber eyes—darker than they'd been in his youth, lined now with the weight of kingship, but no less intense. The scar that bisected his left eye was more pronounced now, a testament to his journey, and you found your free hand reaching up to trace it gently.
"I love this," you murmured. "Your scar. I know that sounds strange, but I do. It's part of who you are. It's your honesty, written on your face."
A soft smile crossed his features—the kind reserved only for you, you suspected. "I used to hate it. Now I barely think about it."
"That's because you learned to see yourself the way others see you," you whispered. "Powerful. Honest. Beautiful."
He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. You didn't. His lips met yours with a tenderness that belied the strength in him, the fire that burned just beneath his skin. It was a kiss that said I choose you, over and over again.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
"Come," he said quietly. "Let me show you something."
He led you deeper into the gardens, away from the main palace, along winding stone paths that were becoming shadowed as the sun moved lower in the sky. You arrived at a private pavilion you'd never seen before—a semi-enclosed space with open sides, draped in silks that shifted like flames in the evening breeze.
"I had this built last year," he admitted, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "I wasn't sure… I wanted a place that was just ours. Away from the council, the advisors, the politics."
The interior was simple but elegant—cushions and soft furs scattered across the floor, lanterns placed strategically to create pools of warm, golden light. A low table held wine and fruit and small cakes dusted with cinnamon sugar.
"Zuko," you breathed, "it's beautiful."
"You're beautiful," he said, and there was no arrogance in it, just simple truth. "And you deserve spaces where you can just be yourself. Where you don't have to fight, don't have to prove anything."
He drew you down onto the cushions, and as the last light of day painted the sky in shades of amber and rose, he kissed you again—slower this time, deeper. His hand traced the line of your spine, gentle and reverent, and you felt the familiar warmth of him seep into your very bones.
The silk curtains billowed around you, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world fell away. There was only this: the warmth of his breath against your neck, the soft sound of his voice saying your name like it was prayer, the way his hands—a warrior's hands, scarred and strong—held you like you were something infinitely precious.
The fire Lord's robes were carefully set aside, piece by piece, revealing the broad, muscular expanse of his chest, marked with old burn scars from battles long past. You traced them with your fingertips, each one a story, each one a reminder of how far he'd come.
"I love you," you whispered against his skin. "Not despite everything, but because of it. Because of who you are—the man who would stand up in front of his entire council for someone he believes in. Because you see me."
His response was wordless, communicated through the way he held you, the way he moved with you as if you were two flames intertwining, two parts of a whole. It was tender and passionate all at once, unhurried and completely devoted.
Later, as you lay tangled in the soft furs, your head on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your shoulder, and you felt the rumble of him speaking against your cheek.
"Katsuro will retire," he said quietly. "I've already decided. We'll announce it in two weeks, make it seem natural. But I won't have him poisoning the council with his bias."
You lifted your head to look at him. "You don't have to do that for me."
"It's not for you," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with surprising tenderness. "It's for what's right. You belong in those meetings. Your ideas matter. And anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve to sit at my council table."
You kissed him softly, a gesture of gratitude and love all intertwined. Outside the pavilion, the stars were beginning to emerge, and somewhere in the distance, you could hear the gentle rush of the waterfall in the gardens.
For the first time since the meeting, you felt your shoulders relax completely.
"Thank you," you murmured.
"For what?"
"For seeing me. For choosing me, over and over again."
Zuko smiled, that rare, genuine smile that transformed his entire face, making him look suddenly less like the stoic Fire Lord and more like the man you'd fallen in love with—complicated, strong, endlessly kind.
"That," he said softly, "is the easiest choice I've ever made."
Just Us Two: Damian loves intruding on your and Jason's alone time.
Third time's The Charm: The two times Jason almost told you he liked you, and the one time he finally did.
Baby Came Home: After you lose your powers while trying to take down a partnership between Lex Luthor and Penguin, Jason and you confront your deepest fear — being each other's second choice. When the rest of the batboys lock you in the Batcave, though, the confession becomes inevitable.
How Can We Go Back to Being Friends: You hook up with your best friend, and now you don’t know how to act around each other.
Damian, You Are So Psyched: Damian came home from school yesterday acting off, so now it's your goal to cheer up the distant little boy.
Don’t Judge a Book by Its Leather Jacket: Jason has been telling himself he's visiting the little coffee shop at the end of the block for its cheap coffee, but it's his only way to see the cute barista every day and quote "Pride and Prejudice" at her until she falls for him.
Don't Judge a Book by Its Leather Jacket (sequel)
Not what you think: Jason went snooping and thinks you're cheating on him. Good luck explaining yourself!
A shear disaster: Your boyfriend is acting suspicious and won't take off his helmet.
Guilty pleasures: You cheat on your boyfriend, Jason, with the Red Hood.
Unexpected Guests: Damian finds out you're dating Jason.
Rough Night: Your secret relationship with Jason is accidentally revealed the morning after a rough night.
The Babysitter: After being hired to babysit Damian Wayne, you end up putting a masked intruder in a chokehold, only to realize you’ve just tackled his older brother, Jason Todd.
Making an Ass of U & Me: Jason didn’t mean to keep your existence secret from his family. At first, it was for his and your own protection more than anything; his double life wasn’t just for any average person after all. But, even after the whole marriage and settling down thing, he may have just forgotten to mention it.
Careless Accidents: You get hurt, and Jason’s pissed.
So This is Love: You show each other what love is supposed to be like (4 in 1)
The Gift of Truth: After figuring out that your boyfriend is Red Hood, you struggle to figure out a way to tell him you are aware of his “nightly activities.” When Jason finally introduces you to his family a week before Christmas, you are presented with the perfect opportunity to tell him
Pride & Prejudice: When you first meet Jason Todd, he seems to be nothing more than an entitled asshole, but as the seasons change, you begin to realise maybe you were wrong about him.
Good With Kids: You never really had an opinion on your colleague Red Hood, that is until you walk into him interacting with some kids.
The Investigator: The Batfamily discovers Jason's been hiding a long-distance relationship with someone who might be even more terrifying than Batman himself.
Are You Dating My Teacher: Bruce decides to cash in a favor that Jason owed him, and now the Red Hood- the most ruthless vigilante of Gotham- is chaperoning his youngest brother’s field trip to the zoo.
Who Do You Love: You're hopelessly in love with your classmate, Jason Todd. And you just so happen to be quite good friends with Red Hood. drunk one night, you admit you have feelings for Jason to your vigilante friend, not knowing the man behind the mask is the man you're in love with.
When She Sees Me: Your best friend Dick Grayson took you to one of Bruce's galas a while ago. When Dick finds out his brother has a crush on you, he decides to play Cupid.
Blah Blah Blah: Jason is angry after watching Wuthering Heights. You are horny watching him get angry.
Cover Blown: You and Jason cannot stand one another. Unfortunately. you both go undercover as a married couple, and that should'nt change things between you two... right?
La Vie en Rose: The four times Jason wildly preferred you over everyone else.
Random blurbs
Old habits
Revealing Secrets
I'm still right though
Jason accidentally reveals he has a soon-to-be fiancée
Interrupted Dates
First Time
Dick Grayson
Sweater Weather: Dick just wanted to have lunch with his best friend, but he didn't expect you to show up in some other guy's sweatshirt.
The Light Behind Your Eyes: A week spent at Dick’s apartment leads Damian to discover what unconditional love looks like.
Hard to Impress: Dick Grayson can't seem to make you swoon, no matter how hard he tries, until he finally does
The "She's With Me" Is The New Gaelic Shrug (sequel)
Easy lovers: After a series of dates, dick finds himself desperate and decides that tonight will not end until he gets to walk home with a kiss from you.
Miraculous partners: Basically, a "Miraculous Ladybug" plot between you and Dick.
Territory, Marked: Damian makes an unexpected friend at the dog park, and when his older brother tags along one day, he takes a little too much interest.
Dinner Was Not Served: Dick had one goal: to seduce his girlfriend. He forgot the part where he should check for unwanted guests first and narrates his plans in very, vivid detail.
Stakeout at Table Nine: Dick Grayson just wanted a normal date. No suits. No masks. Definitely no Batkid stakeout at a fancy restaurant. Too bad his siblings brought disguises, drama, and a front-row seat to his love life.
Lightning Strikes Twice: Nightwing accidentally develops feelings for the anxious woman whose rescue has become part of his regular nightly routine by this point.
Whatever You Say Teach: Damian gets in a fight at school, and his favorite teacher has to set up a meeting with a parent or guardian. Bruce Wayne is away on a mission and Alfred isn’t picking up the phone, so Damian’s eldest brother has to attend a parent teacher conference. Only to find out that he has history with his little brother’s English Lit teacher.
Random blurbs
Take him back, please!
Revealing Secrets
Interrupted Dates
Damian Wayne
Near: He hates contact, except apparently when it’s you he’s inching toward.
Nepo Vigilante: After your parents die, you inherit their legacy as vigilantes, reluctantly stepping into a life you never asked for. Bruce takes you in to honor a promise to them, pairing you with Damian, whose cruelty and perfectionism push you to your limits, until one day, fed up, you choose to train with Tim instead, sparking Damian’s outrage.
When The Spite Dies: You were expected to quit after Damian Wayne’s first vicious insult, but fueled by spite, you stayed— only to end up hopelessly attracted to the despicable man and vice versa.
When The Spite is Desire (sequel)
The Heart Remembers: Damian's short-term amnesia from a concussion causes complications when he refuses to believe the break-up ever happened—and his missing memories dissolves all defenses and unravels the true depths of his undying devotion for you.
Random Blurbs
Interrupted Dates
Damian Wayne and Reader Get Domestic
Tim Drake
If I Was Your Boyfriend: Tim Drake had his eyes on you from the very first week of the semester. So now he’s praying for your (ex) boyfriend’s downfall, because God forbid a man openly plots to have you for himself instead.
Dairy Queen Closes in 10 Minutes: You broke up with Tim a year ago. Too bad he still thinks of you as his. Too bad everything he does reminds you that you are.
Random Blurbs
Interrupted Dates
Bruce Wayne
The Wrong Man’s Wife: The Justice League members think Batman is in love with Bruce Wayne's wife.
Like Real People Do: Bruce's wife goes missing, and the media and family are both in shambles. Bruce grows colder as the family tries their best to find her. To try and cheer him up, they find old video diaries from the couple’s early dating lives and witness a new side of Bruce.
The Watchtower's Worst Kept Secret: The Justice League suspects something is happening between Batman and Bruce Wayne's wife.
Seven Smacks: Bruce Wayne was a stubborn and fiercely independent man, which meant that his children were too. Unfortunately for you, that meant that scolding one of them was practically a moment to scold both.
You guys are always like "being crushed by 10,000 tons of rock probably feels good as hell" or "being torn to pieces by hunting dogs would low key fix me" and I feel like those things would actually be unpleasant.
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