A heavy hand ruffles Zuko's hair softly, starting at the top of his head and effectively ruining the style he did that morning. He merely sighs as he accepts his fate, soaking up the begrudgingly relaxing feeling of his friend carding his fingers through the long, silken strands.
“Do I get to know why I'm being groomed like an ape?”
Aang laughs good-naturedly, an easy shrug of broad shoulders as he broaches the subject. “I thought you said you were gonna cut it; what made you not bother?”
The question freezes him momentarily, and then he takes a sip of tea to avoid the other man's near-scrutinizing gaze. A flush overtakes your lover's cheeks as he thinks about how best to answer his friend, who's waiting with an expectant yet fond look.
Logically, Zuko knows he should say it's the way you make moving wayward strands from his eyes look so tender and domestic. Another safe answer is because his hair is the first thing you absentmindedly reach for when you want to keep your hands occupied in some way. He often lets you toy with the strands, plaiting or twisting the locks into various sizes while he works and having to stifle a snort or quiet laugh when it tickles his ear.
How does he say it's really the way you'd loop your fingers through the dark tresses after he's had a long day?
You'd be straddling his lap, his arms tight around your frame and head on your shoulder, while your fingers would run through his hair, smoothing out whatever knots you could. Every so often, they'd weave themselves in the strands closest to the root, and it always made him shiver in anticipation.
Blunt nails would lightly scratch at his scalp and nape, making him grunt quietly as he sinks into the couch, trying to push himself closer to you at the same time. Then your fingers would tighten and yank, forcing a startled but relieved groan from his throat. His hair spills from the spaces between your fingers as you bunch the locks in your grip. Your teeth find the column of his neck, and his answering keen was one he couldn't quite hide.
The blissful tugs on his hair are so hard they sting, so hard they swell his dick until it's almost painful. A whispered plea and you're quick to indulge him. With your free hand stroking his cock, the other is still in his hair, twisting his head to the side to suck a bruise into perspiring, pale skin. His digits sink into the plush skin of your thighs, trying to ground himself as the smarting tug had him arching his spine as if it were suddenly malleable.
Your lover would always end up with fluttering lashes, uttering a mouthful of curses when your thumb would swipe over his weeping slit, the same time you yank hard enough to tilt his head back. His Adam's apple bobs under your lips, breath coming out in a shudder as you lave your tongue and nip your teeth at his throat.
His hips buck when you force his gaze back to you with another harsh tug. But he just couldn't stop his darkened and lidded eyes from rolling to the back of his skull when you started to fondle his balls, other hand still gripping his now disheveled hair.
The esteemed Fire Lord surely couldn't tell his friend that he'd also miss the fact that his hair is the first thing you grab onto when he finds home between your legs.
When his warm tongue teases your slit and laps at your arousal like he's dehydrated, you forget your restraint; completely disregard that there's a person attached to all the hair you're pulling, and he loves it. It makes him even greedier for you, that you got so caught up in the pleasure he's giving that you don't even realize the literal strands you've managed to pull from his scalp.
The sensation and thought had him grinding into your shared bed, his long, pretty cock weeping pre that stains the expensive sheets a darker shade of red. There's going to be a crick in his neck from how hard you pulled his hair to drag him in for a kiss. But he supposes that's his fault for wanting to be a willing puppet, to let your loving hands manipulate his strings with an expert but tender grace.
When your hands grip his biceps, he's soothing you with a kiss to your forehead. When he starts bullying himself inside you, said hands find his hair. The tip of his cock weeps at your entrance, begging to be let into your warmth, and that was the night he realized your pussy is the only thing tighter than your stabilizing grip on his hair. You're panting into his shoulder, teeth digging into the skin with a muffled whimper as he rolls his hips into a tentative thrust.
The pull of his hair and your sweet whines make him impatient; he doesn't want to wait to sink inside you. It's a little like pulling teeth waiting for your warm and wet hole to give; hurting you is the last thing he wants to do, but the soreness in his scalp makes his cock throb. The tingling at the base of his skull has him near whimpering as he fucks his leaky tip into your sopping cunt, the warmth making him shudder and bring your legs up, pressing them to your chest.
“My wife likes it.” He finally answers, and it might be underwhelming to the other male, but it's a safe deterrent from more questions. He doesn't feel like explaining that you're pulling on his hair makes him bust faster than anything, spilling his cum hot and heavy inside you, while his hair spills like ink from the spaces between your fingers.
"you have the prettiest pussy," aang murmurs, reverent in the way he's touching it with the most gentle caress. his fingers graze over swollen lips, spread them wide so he can stare at a throbbing clit that's calling out to his mouth. "how is it so perfect? how are you so perfect?"
"shut up," you mumble, embarrassed with your hands covering your too-warm face. "just, hnngh, stop playing with it."
"but i love playing with her." aang feigns a pout, grey eyes flicking up to stare at you almost pitifully. "you're always hide your true emotions but she's more honest." as if on cue, your hole flutters and spills out a line of slick. "see? she's talking to me right now."
you aim a kick at his head, too flustered to aim which is his luck. he catches your foot, lays a kiss in its sole and smiles when you tremble. "that was mean," he tsks before settling your leg over his shoulder. "and to think i was gonna treat you so well too."
"you're annoying," you try to hiss but it tumbles out as a whimper when aang slides a finger through your soaked slit. "haah, i'm gonna—"
"gonna do what?" aang interrupts, using that same finger to rub teasing circles against your clit. the added slick only heightens his touch over the bundle of nerves and your hips are jerking up as you gasp, mouth dropping open. "kill me when this is done? you can try but i think you'd be too fucked out to do anything."
he sees that you're about to retaliate but aang doesn't let you, timing it just right as he fills your dripping hole with that finger still. the slight stretch has you stuttering, hands coming to clutch at the hem of your—his—shirt. your pussy clamps around his finger beautifully, his hard cock twitching in jealousy.
"what was that?" aang teases, starting a thrusting rhythm that has you squirming, sweet little whines escaping your throat. "did you want to say something?"
your pretty face has crumpled under mounting pleasure, a line of drool already pouring down your open mouth as you choke on a rather mean curl of his finger.
"mmm," you hum, panting as your grip on coherency already lost as you roll your hips onto his thrusting digit. "mmmhm—"
"good girl." aang kisses your inner thigh, adding another finger and thrusting in hard, smiling when your back arches sharply. "just relax and let me take care of you."
When you started wondering whether loving Aang was supposed to feel this sad, you never expected the answer to come from Zuko.
PAIRING: Zuko x Reader |vs.| Aang x Reader
SYNOPSIS: You spent several years loving Aang—waited through missed anniversaries, forgotten birthdays, unfinished conversations, and promises meant with all the sincerity in the world. You knew loving Aang would also mean that you understood that he is also the Avatar. What you never expected was that healing from the sadness you felt while loving him would lead you back to the one person who had never left your side—your childhood best friend, Zuko. As old promises linger and new beginnings take root, you must decide whether love is found in the person you waited for or the person who stayed.
Chapter 1: What's Wrong With Me? [90% done | to be posted...]
"I keep looking for distractions, hope the feeling passes but I've got to say, it's getting harder everyday."
CHAPTER OVERVIEW: Your anniversary ends the way too many days with Aang does—with another goodbye. Left behind in Republic City while he answers the call of duty, you spend the evening alone until Zuko unexpectedly stays by your side, turning disappointment into laughter beneath the city lights. Months later, Aang returns with promises of uninterrupted time together, reminding you just how deeply he loves you, only for duty to pull him away once more. Sick, exhausted, and trying not to dwell on another empty goodbye, you throw yourself into work until Zuko quietly intervenes, insisting you rest while he handles the burden you refuse to set down. As storms rage outside the palace walls, you ask him for one simple thing—to stay—and for the first time, someone chooses you over everything else.
WARNINGS: None | No beta, we die like Gojo
Chapter 2: Begged [40% done | to be posted... ]
"They say it's a virtue to not let good love slip away, so I'm cool and forgiving. I'll take what you're giving... but nothing's quite enough."
CHAPTER OVERVIEW: Ember Island offers a temporary escape from Republic City, but not from the loneliness that follows you wherever Aang’s duties take him. Though his letters are filled with affection and promises of seeing you soon, “soon” never seems to arrive. As you spend your days tending to work, visiting your paternal grandfather, and reminiscing about simpler times at Ember Island with Zuko, you slowly realize how much of your life has become an exercise in patience. Every farewell is met with understanding. Every delay is forgiven. Every letter you send carries the same quiet request hidden between the lines: stay. By winter’s approach, you’re no longer certain whether you’re waiting for Aang—or begging him to choose you.
WARNINGS: Blood, characters being injured | No beta, we die like Gojo
Chapter 3: Less [30% done | to be posted... ]
"If loving me means crying on the curb at LAX, I wish you loved me less."
CHAPTER OVERVIEW: The colder the days become, the more fragile everything seems. Though Aang’s letters continue to arrive with reassurance and affection, they cannot replace the comfort of his presence when you need it most. As grief, responsibility, and loneliness begin to intertwine, you find yourself relying on the people who choose to remain—including Zuko, who never seems to leave when you ask him to stay. But by the time Aang finally comes home, some wounds have already had too much time to grow. And as your patience finally reaches its limit, you’re forced to confront how much of yourself have been spent loving someone who could never truly stay.
WARNINGS: Grief, minor character death | No beta, we die like Gojo
Chapter 4: The Cure [20% done | to be posted... ]
“My head is full of poison and my heart is full of doubts."
CHAPTER OVERVIEW: Aang leaves with a promise of coming back. Zuko leaves you with his confession of his true feelings that you aren’t ready to hear. Caught between heartbreak and healing, you choose distance, hoping time will quiet the confusion growing inside you. Instead, time only makes certain things clearer. Some people remain even when they’re given every reason to walk away. Some feelings refuse to disappear no matter how deeply they’re buried, and when your heart is finally ready for an answer, it returns to the person who never stopped choosing it.
WARNINGS: MDNI, suggestive content, heavy kissing | No beta, we die like Gojo
Chapter 5: Honeybee [20% done | to be posted... ]
“Baby boy, Honeybee, God— I love the way you look at me, and it's too hard to describe this in a way that feels honest, but even when I'm quiet, I love you, baby. I promise."
CHAPTER OVERVIEW: The waiting is over. The doubts are quieter now, replaced by a happiness so gentle that it almost catches you off guard. As late night intimate talks turn into wedding plans, future dreams, and conversations about the life you want together begin to fill your days, you discover that love was never meant to feel like a battle. It was always supposed to feel like peace. Now, you look into the future, hand in hand with the person who chose you every day, you finally understand that some promises are worth waiting for.
WARNINGS: MDNI, nsfw content—virginity loss, heavy kissing, pregnancy talks | No beta, we die like Gojo
BIA'S NOTE: This mini-series is inspired by Olivia’s new album. The girl on the swing gif that I made is Olivia! (inspired by her album cover) reminder that it's not representing the reader, as the reader is you, pookie! | Aang vs. Zuko x Reader is not being talked enough, so I’m here to serve 😼
cw: cockwarming, penetrative sex, teasing, male whimpering, hair pulling, bicep biting, multiple creampies (two), pet names, not proofread.
ⓘ featuring Zuko cockwarming with his wife, for the first time.
Zuko could feel his eyes bulge out the moment you'd asked if he could stay seated inside you after his orgasm, "Cockwarming sounds like it'd be really intimate... I'd like to try it out if you're open."
He hated how tempted he was the moment you asked; his back was still actively smoking & effectively turning your bedroom into a sauna, for fuck's sake.
Not to mention his arms were still shaking, his lungs were failing to catch air as quickly as he'd like, and he could have sworn he'd reach another orgasm within seconds if your walls wouldn't stop greedily gripping his cock.
But fuck. You looked so desperate asking for him, so needy, and he loved making you feel good, so he slowly nodded.
Carefully, Zuko cupped your cheek. His rough thumb brushed over your cheek as he pressed his hips forward—successfully bottoming out once again—with a deep groan.
"Y-yes, my love. We can try that out—" he choked out, hips twitching as you fluttered around him. "—Ah! ...For how long?"
You brought your hand to press firmly against his lower back with a soft moan, thighs twitching around his hips.
"Hold on, let me think." Your free hand pressed against his chest, tracing one of his scars, attempting to refocus your thoughts on anything but the sweet pleasure growing from every point of contact with Zuko. "Uhm. Maybe just a few minutes to try it at first?"
"Fuck. Okay, yeah, that sounds good... really good." He whispered, lowering his face to press quick kisses to your jaw. "Just tell me when to pull out."
"Mm," you nodded, nails sinking into his back for a moment. "Mm-hmm. No problem." A small moan broke through your lips, gone just as fast as it came but very much noticed by your husband.
"Stop staring, you idiot," you groaned, covering Zuko's eyes teasingly. "It's embarrassing and weird."
"My wife is moaning from nothing but a stretch, and me staring is weird? I think it'd be weirder if I weren't mesmerized." Zuko breathlessly cooed, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"This isn't going how I wanted, Zu." Your fingers slid from his eyes to tangle in his hair, & tugging softly, a flush dusted your cheeks at the groan that escaped his lips.
"Well, baby, I'm doing what you asked," he whispered, pulling back to stare at you with soft eyes. "Just tell me what you really want, okay?"
"I thought you'd be begging to fuck me again by now—" You pulled him back down until he was hovering just above you, holding himself up carefully, "—but no. You're making me ask."
Zuko paused, a laugh escaping his lips, before pressing them against yours. "My love. You said you wanted to try cockwarming. Not a second round."
"Yeah, and cockwarming typically leads to a round two, Zuko." You hissed, pressing your thighs tightly against his hips, scratching your nails up to his shoulders.
"Oh no, Love is using my first name—I'm going to die." He teased, kissing you on the cheek. "Here, baby, we can go again."
He gasped softly as he drew his hips back, giving a testing thrust before setting a comfortable pace.
"Oh, my god." Your voice broke, crushing him against your chest with a sharp moan—Zuko's eyes widening once more as he flexed his arms against the mattress.
"My love, this already isn't going to last long; no need to speed the process up by being touchy like that," Zuko huffed, stiffening as you locked your ankles against his lower back. "Fuck."
Zuko took a deep breath, relishing the way each stroke of his hips left your nails greedily clawing at him, leaving a pleasant sting in their wake.
"You're so mean to me," you hissed, pushing sweaty strands of hair from his face to cradle his cheek and pull him down to kiss his lips.
"Mm-hmm," Zuko rasped, giving a particularly cruel thrust just to hear you moan. "I love you too."
You paused, glancing away from his gaze momentarily before leaning up and sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and nipping playfully.
Zuko groaned lowly, hips snapping against yours with more force—leaving you to gasp and let go of his lip between moans, his hands grasping your hips as he fucked into you deeply.
"Son of a bitch," he purred, fingers gripping tightly as white-hot pleasure tore through you both, Zuko leaving you with the second creampie of the night.
"Holy shit." You whimpered, thighs loosening around him as you unlocked your ankles, brushing through Zuko's hair slowly, trying to catch your breath.
"Baby, you were right. We need to do that more often." He sighed before effectively collapsing on top of you.
Burnt to the Core ♨ Prologue | reader(f) x Firelord Zuko
synopsis: you are firelord zuko's direct attendant. zuko has long reformed the fire nation after ozai's takedown and zuko's assuming of power. but now you had a challenge of your own: your feelings for the firelord. what was just a simple crush turned out to be more trouble than you would have imagined. but it may have been worth it.
word count: 3486
warnings: no spoilers of the movie (besides using this gif here + how gaang now looks as adults). this is mature (MDNI + trigger warning), as a lot of violence/sexual topics will be brought up.
authors note: yes, the edits have inspired me. yes, listen to jealous type as you read this fic.
***ONLY PUBLISHED ON TUMBLR***
It began there, the memory of the Bazaar that day swarming your thoughts.
That day was so lively, and full of joy. Small shops were set up, all sorts of banners and streamers hung around. Flames reached the clouds from the street performers in the square, with watchers jumping out of their seats, their snacks flying with them. A local band took over the streets, playing tunes that were irresistible to the feet of dancers. There was a warmth much deeper than the usual heat of this nation's benders.
You were rushing through the crowds, the bamboo basket in your hands full of the herbs your mother had tasked you to collect. It would’ve been easier to get through the people, had your mother also not demanded for you to wear such a flowy dress. It was beautiful, yes, but clung onto everything that stuck out, pokey or so long that it got trapped under people's feet. There were setbacks, but you knew you had to do this.
Truthfully, this was one responsibility you enjoyed immensely. Your family had inherited rich, fertile land with plants and herbs maintained for millennia through your bloodline. And with your parents being tea sommeliers, you could only follow their footsteps. However, you were more passionate about herbalism, and were much more allured by the medicinal route of life. That said, nothing could go wrong with a cup of tea.
You remember how dark the home had been, as you peeked through the burgundy curtain cloaking the side entrance. The celebration for Firelord Zuko’s visit felt like an eternity, starting from the morning and ongoing. It was the evening now, and you figured your parents are still going to be there until everyone has packed and gone. You quickly put the basket down on the counter by the porch of the house, which had been converted into a booth as your parents sold tea from the house. You reach over to the lever to open up the awning of the booth. The house felt stuffy, and you were a little too warm from the hike.
As you begin to wash the herbs, you hear the sound of one of your wooden stools getting shuffled. You look up, and notice an older gentleman taking a seat. You meet obsidian eyes that hold wisdom that you can only imagine is vast and neverending. Dribbles of sweat hung from his smooth head, with his gray beard off to one side (though, you don’t believe he noticed). He meets your gaze and offers a kind smile, “I do hope you are open, I’ve been seeking a nice cup of tea.”
You were surprised, considering the countless tea shops being offered at the celebration in the square. You were about to explain that you were closed, given your parents hosting a mini shop at the square as well, but a pendant caught your eye. He had a gold brooch hung on the side of his right arm, with the Fire Nations emblem on it. This meant this man was either a guard or of nobility; a high ranking individual in the nation. Of course, seeing his age, you had to assume he long returned his work in the army, and this was simply an honorary pendant. Either way, you were not allowed to reject or not assist such an important individual.
“Let me get the kettle going,” you say quietly, offering a warm smile as you quickly get some water boiling. “I was not expecting any customers out here, considering the party going on in the middle of the village.”
The old man hummed, nodding at your words, “ah, you’re not wrong to assume such a thing. There’s so many people out there for the Firelord that I got a bit overwhelmed. I can’t enjoy my tea in such excitement.”
That’s understandable, considering how impossible it is to find a seat or navigate when the Bazaar was this active. “My parents are currently hosting their tea at the market, but I was told to remain here in case stragglers came through this alley for a cup of tea.” This was partially true. Technically, you were not expecting anybody to find food or beverage deep in the village, but your parents were opportunists.
The old man nods off, “your parents understand the opportunities that can come with gatherings like these. But I imagine you would have liked to go and see the Firelord.”
You could only shrug, listening to the kettle finally whistle. “It would have been nice, but my parents need me here,” you say simply, “but I am eternally grateful for our Firelord, and what he has done for the nation since the start of his reign.”
It has been 5 years since the takedown of Firelord Ozai, allowing for Prince Zuko to assume his place and lead the Fire Nation to the right direction. Since taking charge, he has taken all the right steps to begin restoring the Fire Nation, beginning with an immense apology to the rest of the nations for the war and genocide brought about by his father. Since then, he has made it a goal to visit all of the villages and capitals that made up the Fire Nation. He wanted to get to know his nation once again, and the best way was to spend time with them and see what he can do to assist.
“Your words warm my heart,” the old man coos, his hand making its way to hover above his heart, “He would have been very happy to hear those words himself.”
You smile while carefully lifting your kettle from the fire and putting it on a cork trivet. “What kind of tea would you like?”
His eyes distract themselves with the steam escaping the kettle. You allow him to think on it, and turn over to bend away the fire at the bottom of the chimney. “What do you have?” He asks curiously.
You grab one of the scrolls and offer it to him, “these are all of the teas we have to offer. And if you would like anything to eat, I can start up the fire again.”
“Oh ho ho, I am all good for a meal,” he laughs out before tapping at his bulbous belly, “but a tea is a must. He pulls the scroll opposite with both hands, and his eyes saunter at the options. He then looks back at you with a curt smile, “what is your favorite tea?”
You look at him curiously before grabbing a menu yourself, “from the menu…”
“Ah, but what is your favorite?” The old man insisted, putting the scroll down gently. “I’m not saying your favorite cannot be a classic tea, but your family runs a tea shop. I can only imagine the teas that you enjoy that might not be appreciated by untrained tongues.”
You stare at the older man before you, your curiosity itself being allured by his words. It felt like you were being challenged somehow, as if disappointment was an option if you did not proceed to deliver. “Is there any fruit or herb you do not like or cannot have?” You ask first. The old man shakes his head no. “Pardon me a moment.”
You rush back into your home, sauntering into your room. It was small, but cozy with plenty of cushions and blankets to keep you warm and safe. You crawl down to the farthest cabinet in the room, and slide the bamboo door open. Inside resided a small, clay pot. You peel off the parchment that you’ve used to seal the pot, and remove a small pouch. You return to the old man, untying the pouch to reveal a sable black herb. It was soft to the touch, and retained its moisture from the method that you sealed it.
You grab a small pinch, and ask for the old man's hand. He obliges, allowing you to put some of the herbs in the center of his palm. As you prepare his tea, you begin to describe it in a tale, “this herb comes from an incredibly rare lotus flower. Its original petals are this lovely pink… it shocked me when my parents and I discovered it. This herb is from the very core of this flower, but when collecting it, there’s a bit of intimidation– it looks like there are snakes within its center.”
He brings his hand up to his nose, his eyes closed to appreciate the scent. “I am a fan of lotus, but this is quite unique. There is a sweet aroma to it.”
“Almost vanilla-like, right?” You supplement his thoughts. “It surprised me to smell how sweet it was. And it almost convinces you that you need not add any additional sweetener to it.”
His eyes furrow, “is it bitter?”
“It can be,” you hum. “But its taste is phenomenal, and its flavors can become more complex with time.”
“With time?” He allowed your passion to fly with his own curiosity.
You nod, quickly preparing a cup with the herbs inside, watching as they quickly ascend through the water and flat at the top. You get another cup, adding some of the herbs and pouring water as well. But this time, you added a sweetener: fig syrup. With separate spoons, you stir both cups and begin to seat it on a tray. Then, you walk over to one cabinet within the kitchen, and begin to bring down a deep brown pot. This, too, is sealed in a particular way, with a cheese cloth layered several times around the rim to retain its contents while also allowing it to breathe just a bit.
“And this is…?”
“This is the same tea, but fermented,” you inform him. You grab a ladle, pouring a cup's worth of tea in a small, metal cup. You hold the cup from the bottom, and allow flames to illuminate from your palm. “It is good cold, but I prefer it to be quite hot.” Once heated, the delicious scent of the steam emitting from the cup almost took you over. You bring the cup to the tray, and step from behind the booth to present it to him.
You take the opportunity to stand before him and bow, “I apologize for not bowing for you before, as I was behind the booth.” He immediately waves you off, scoffing at his pendant while flicking it with his finger.
“Actually, I was quite content that you did not bow to me. Sure, I have served this nation, but you serve this nation as well by being part of it.” He quickly taps at your shoulders, bidding you to rise. “You are just as important as I am, and your craft is something that I am quite envious of.”
You smile warmly before you make your way back to the booth. “Please try the freshly brewed tea to your left first,” you instruct, “I have made that one without any sweetener so you can appreciate the lotus as is.”
The man brings the cup to his nose first, taking it with the aroma before having a sip. “That… is wonderful,” he praises softly. He looks down at the tea, seeing how the water had been tinted with this sunrise yellow. “I am beginning to understand why this is your favorite.”
You nod, “but it is much better with the sweetener that I have made. My parents do not like it at all, but I find fig syrup to be deserving of the palette.” He follows suit, and takes a sip of the sweetened tea.
He pauses for a moment, bringing his free hand up to wipe away excess tea from his mustache and beard. But, despite this, he goes for another sip, and another sip. A few gulps passed, and the cup returned to its vacant state. He gently puts down the cup and lets out a hot sigh. “In my many years of life, I have never thought that figs could do tea so well.”
You smile excitedly. This would be the first time you could share one of your most loved teas. Your parents enjoyed them, sure, but not with virgin taste buds. It was refreshing to see another's excitement to a tea that you can happily say is some of the best in the world, even if the rest of the world didn’t know it.
As he goes to pick up the final cup, you offer him a small vial of the fig syrup, “if you would like to sweeten it after taking a sip of it raw. Though I do warn you, you might need the syrup as this fermented tea is a bit… strong.”
He acknowledges your words, and quickly takes a sip of the fermented tea. His eyes widened completely, staring down curiously at the more matured yellow of the tea. “Will it be at all possible for me to buy this tea from you?” He asks honestly. He studies his cup, almost taken aback by the complexity of the tea. “I don’t think tea has ever left me speechless like this before.”
“You and I both,” you concur with a giggle, “I’d love to sell you some, but I’ve grown quite attached to this tea. I’ve had this tea fermenting for a month now, I believe. You’re actually the first person to taste it since I prepared and stored it.”
“I’m quite honored, thank you,” the man hums. He adds some of the syrup from the vial you offered him, and began to stir with a provided spoon on the tray. Taking a sip of the fermented tea now sweetened, he nodded in approval. “This is phenomenal. Thank you very much for such an experience. He offers the vial back to you, in which you quickly refuse.
“Feel free to keep it for yourself,” you insisted, “I’m more than happy to spread the taste of fig syrup. It works wonderfully on many other teas.” The both of you share a warm silence, one that was filled enough that it needn’t words. And, the light of day was just about leaving, as the sun had already set. You leave the booth once more when you notice all the tea has been completely drunk. As you carefully put the cups into the sink, you noticed the man leaving money at the table. “Ah– you don’t have to do that!”
“Hm?” The man looked up at you quizzally. “I came to drink tea. You cannot do business if you offer it for free, no?”
He’s not wrong, but you felt bad, “consider it an apology for not being able to sell you any of these herbs.” Additionally, he was a Fire Nation nobility. Your fear derived from any potential punishment or demerit on your family name for not treating him well. Although the Fire Nation has taken a complete 180 turn, the trauma of Firelord Ozai’s reign was deeply rooted.
“You are a beautiful soul, young lady,” the man hums, taking out more money than what the tea was worth and placing it on the table. “But I would hate for your parents to punish you for not doing your job.”
You still persist, “regardless, the tea does not cost this much– please take half of that back!” You come out from the booth once more, and quickly try to hand the excess money back to the man. But he rejects it, his hands completely up and refusing to take anything back. Your insistence in fact struck something inside the man, and he quickly looked around, as if he was expecting someone.
“Young lady, do you have any dreams?” The man suddenly asked a heavy question. “I imagine a woman as well spoken and gifted as yourself aspires more than simply working at your family’s tea shop.”
You stop your insistence on the pay, and cross your arms against your body, “what would be wrong if I was happy remaining here?” You were happy, yes, but this was not completely true. You did want more than this life, despite its simplicity.
“Nothing wrong with that at all,” the man agreed, “tell me, would you leave a gem you found in a cave?” You look at him curiously, and hesitate to shake your head. “It is a greedy thought, but the most human one. So I ask again: do you have any dreams?”
Before you could answer, you heard the loud sounds of jogging entering the alley. You look around, wondering who could be running around these parts during the festival. Then, more clearly, you see several Fire Nation guards make their way into view. Was something happening? You thought worriedly. You weren’t so much worried about yourself, but rather your parents.
A guard stands behind the old man you had been serving, and quickly yells, “found him!”
You quickly look around, seeing the guards immediately bow and remain bowed behind the old man. You had an inkling that this man was more important than he led on. But, it's always dangerous to assume things, especially when you do not know. Your heart begins to race, mostly from nerves but also a bit of excitement. This was extremely rare, and you were curious and hopeful that this was nothing but good or neutral happenings.
“Master Iroh, we have been looking for you all over,” one of the guards pants out, struggling to keep his bow still. Master Iroh? You could swear you’ve heard that name somewhere, considering how small your village was. Big names were treated like celebrities, but this name had a familiarity in its foreignness. “Where have you been?”
“Here,” he gestures to his payment to you, which is still sitting on the table. “Did my nephew send you all to look for me? He’s too old for me to keep holding his hand.” Some of the guards snort but quickly go silent when another set of feet step into the alley. The old man, who you now know is Master Iroh, looks over to his other side and smiles, “your manhunt has come to an end!”
“Stop messing with me, uncle,” a deep, yet gentle voice came into sound. You looked over, and your eyes were quick to react before your body. There stood the owner of the voice, with amber eyes filled with concern. Though he was not looking at you by any means, his refined facial features and the immense length of his jet black hair was the start to your potential cardiac arrest. But, it was the familiar scarring of his left eye that solidified the reason for your potential cardiac arrest. That, and the symbolic crown wedged into the bun that sat right on top of his head. Silently and promptly, you bow your head so low, your face is inches away from your knees.
“Who said I was messing with you?” Master Iroh looked up at him, baffled. “I wanted a cup of tea, and it ended up being much more worth my while.”
It was at this moment you realized something. Firelord Zuko addressed your customer as uncle. This entire time, you have been serving the current Firelord’s uncle, firstborn son of Fire Lord Azulon and a crucial member of Order of the White Lotus.
Firelord Zuko glances over at you, giving you a good look before returning to annoyance, “Uncle, there was tea being offered to you left and right. I don’t understand you at all.”
“Zuko, the best cup of tea is enjoyed in peace,” Master Iroh teaches. “And this young lady here made me realize that our hunt is officially over.”
“Uncle, what are you talking about?” Firelord Zuko asks in genuine stew, “what hunt?”
Master Iroh looks up at you with a warm, welcoming smile, “I think I finally found your new attendant.” He then looks over and offers his hand, “I know you have not told me your dreams yet, and perhaps you might not have any. But, I would love to invite you to the Capital, and perhaps make something come true.”
As you remained bowed, you weren’t sure how to feel, or what to say. You straightened yourself, looking up at Firelord Zuko, whose eyes were quickly trained on you. You didn’t dare assume a thing, but his fixation on you had your heart skipped a few too many beats to be considered healthy. You quickly look over at Master Iroh, whose hand still remained up and offered to you. “Are you sure I am what you’re looking for?”
Master Iroh nods, “I think you are exactly what is needed in the Capital. My only ask is that you consider it, and consider it well.”
And that is how a few cups of tea led you to work in Capital City, the heart of the Fire Nation, and home to Firelord Zuko.
hi all! I hope you like the prologue to my new fanfic on adult zuko. please lmk if you would like me to start a taglist (if any of yall are interested, i just made this blog)
wishing u all good health and happy fanfic reading x
when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and for once, katara allows herself to hope—maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
(please check the story masterlist for the story warnings.)
WC. 5.8k
masterlist : story masterlist
chapter ten
art creds :: chamiii07, ilameys on x
a/n: guys by banner photos got taken down, so these will be my visuals from now. it is literally the cover for tbtr on wattpad.
p.s. this chapter is very poorly edited and not proofread at all, i will probably have to come back and change a few things, but the content will be the same.
One moment he had been sitting beside Appa with his thoughts tangled beyond repair, and the next, he found himself seated within the temporary residence Lord Shuren had prepared for him earlier during his recovery, staring blankly at untouched parchment spread across the low table before him.
The room remained quiet save for the faint scratching of tree branches against the windows outside.
A long brush pen rested loosely between his fingers while dark ink gathered heavily at its tip, dripping slow black stains across the empty parchment beneath his unmoving hand. He had already asked a servant for writing materials almost immediately after leaving Appa's infirmary chambers, and the idea had arrived to him with clarity.
Katara.
Of course, Katara.
She could heal Appa far better than the physicians here ever could, and if he was being honest with himself, part of him simply wanted to see someone familiar again after everything that had happened.
He wanted to hear Sokka complain loudly about the estate food, hear Toph mock the ridiculous formalities surrounding Hujiang, and hear Katara scold him for nearly getting himself killed in a storm before inevitably helping him anyway.
Spirits.
At this point, he felt he might genuinely cry just seeing one of them walk through the door.
The solution itself had been painfully simple.
Write to Katara and ask her to come. Have Appa healed properly.
He knew she would arrive if he asked her, and yet, the brush still hovered uselessly above blank parchment, because hesitation had settled inside him.
He was thinking ahead. Zuko had taught him that.
Not intentionally, perhaps, though watching Uncle Iroh guide the new Fire Lord navigate politics and diplomacy for the past years had forced Aang to understand something uncomfortable about the world.
Every action carries consequences far beyond the moment itself, and it is only amplified so for someone carrying the title of Avatar.
Usually, Aang ignored that lesson whenever possible.
He preferred simpler, kinder decisions.
But tonight he could not stop thinking.
His thoughts kept circling backward endlessly, searching desperately for the exact moment everything had begun unraveling.
Was it when he turned away from you within the marketplace to help the frightened child who had nearly collided with a merchant stall?
Or perhaps earlier, when he agreed to let you accompany him despite knowing you possessed absolutely no sense of direction whatsoever.
Then his thoughts drifted farther back.
To the storm.
To Appa screaming in pain beneath the lightning sky while Aang desperately struggled to keep control against the violent winds tearing around them.
Perhaps this entire nightmare truly began there.
He had known a storm was coming that day.
Any sensible airbender would have delayed travel entirely, especially with Appa already exhausted from weeks of flying across the Earth Kingdom beforehand. But Aang had grown too confident in his abilities recently confident in how much stronger his bending had become since the war ended, and he never stopped to considering whether Appa himself could safely withstand such conditions.
That single choice had led them here.
To Appa crippled within an infirmary. To Momo missing. To you—
Aang shut his eyes tightly.
Then came the next question.
If Katara arrived here, what then?
Lord Shuren already viewed him as the source of disgrace within his household. The advisor had taken enormous pride in personally caring for the Avatar during recovery, no doubt presenting himself openly throughout Hujiang as the man who aided the world's savior.
If Katara appeared suddenly and healed Appa within days, what would that do to Shuren's pride?
And even worse, what would happen to you afterward?
Aang had already come to understand the terrifying truth.
You did not possess freedom within this estate. Every decision surrounding your life seemed tied directly to your father's approval, to whatever preserved appearances best before the kingdom.
If Aang angered Lord Shuren further, you might suffer for it instead.
Frustration finally snapped through as he abruptly stood from the table, the pen slipping from his grasp before striking against the wood and splattering dark ink across the untouched parchment.
Aang dragged both hands harshly across his face while pacing toward the bed.
Then he simply dropped onto it heavily, staring upward toward the ceiling while exhaustion tangled painfully through his body.
Sleep was difficult as Aang found himself trying to solve a situation where no answer seemed capable of making everyone walk away unharmed.
But he still wanted to try.
Aang had not truly realized until this morning just how separated your chambers were from the rest of the estate.
No servant would answer him directly.
The moment he asked where you resided, conversation tightened around him before polite excuses followed, each servant suddenly remembering another task elsewhere within the manor.
Some lowered their heads respectfully while avoiding his eyes entirely, while others simply hurried away before he could ask twice.
Everyone knew.
The entire estate already understood how dangerous it would appear for the Avatar to seek you out after the events of last night. The servants did not even need instructions to avoid aiding him.
Fear for your reputation alone seemed enough to silence them.
Eventually, he came across two of your maids walking together through one of the eastern corridors.
Aang recognized them immediately.
The older one, Lian, carried herself with the same composed firmness she had displayed the first day he barged carelessly into your dressing chambers. Beside her stood Nari, visibly younger and significantly easier to read, her nervousness practically radiating the moment she noticed the Avatar approaching them.
Aang barely managed a greeting before Lian interrupted him calmly.
"My lady is unavailable."
The tone alone made it clear no argument would alter her answer.
"Please, I just need to see her!" Aang tried anyway.
"You should not." Lian replied simply.
Then, without another word, she continued down the corridor.
Nari lingered behind briefly.
The younger maid avoided looking directly at him while nervously twisting her sleeves between her fingers.
Aang lowered his voice slightly.
"I just want to make sure she's okay."
Nari hesitated, then finally, she answered.
"She is rather upset at the moment, so she remains alone." Her eyes darted quickly down the corridor afterward before she stepped slightly closer.
"If you insist upon seeing her...please ensure no one notices."
Even with directions, reaching your chambers proved difficult.
Aang stood out too easily.
The blue arrows covering his skin, the unmistakable robes of an Air Nomad, the heavy red outer garment returned to him earlier that morning after finally leaving your grasp—every servant who passed him looked twice before quickly pretending otherwise.
Still, he reached your chambers eventually.
He had spent nearly the entire night thinking of you. Even exhaustion had failed to silence his thoughts properly. Every time sleep threatened to pull him under, his mind dragged him back toward the abandoned house, toward the unbearable helplessness lingering across your face while you cried beneath his robes.
At some point during the night, amidst all the panic and confusion clouding his thoughts, an idea had finally taken shape.
A possible solution.
Something that might repair your reputation without forcing you to carry further humiliation.
Something that might satisfy Lord Shuren, preserve your dignity, and allow this terrible thing to stop swallowing your life whole.
The thought alone had kept him awake close to dawn, and even once exhaustion finally overtook him, he slept so poorly that waking came hours later than usual, long after the noon sunlight had already spread fully across the estate.
Yet despite everything, he had come here with purpose. With hope.
Aang entered the room without knocking first.
He opened the doors carefully, slipping inside quietly before shutting them behind him.
You looked up immediately from where you rested against the headboard of your bed.
The curtains surrounding the room remained partially drawn against the afternoon light while blankets covered your legs entirely, though your upper body remained visible enough that the bruises decorating your skin stood impossible to ignore.
"Aang...?"
Relief struck him instantly at the sound of your voice. He exhaled quietly before walking farther into the room.
You looked alright at first glance.
You looked alright if he ignored the bruising surrounding your wrists. You looked alright if he ignored the darkened marks staining your throat and collarbones beneath the loose robes draped around your body.
You looked alright.
But you were not.
Even so, you still offered him a small smile before lowering your eyes toward the blankets gathered over your lap.
"You truly should not have come here." You murmured softly.
Aang nodded automatically before realizing you had not been looking at him at all.
"...I know, But I needed to talk to you." He admitted quietly.
He hesitated before moving toward the side of your bed and lowering himself carefully beside it, kneeling close so that he no longer needed to raise his voice for you to hear him.
You looked visibly surprised by the gesture. Still, you did not stop him.
Neither of you spoke, then, unexpectedly, you broke the silence first.
"You have woken much later than usual today. Did you struggle to sleep?" You observed gently.
Aang rubbed lightly at the back of his neck.
"...A little."
A faint smile touched your lips.
"Me as well."
The softness behind your voice nearly made the bruises surrounding it harder to bear looking at.
Aang swallowed quietly before finally forcing himself to ask the question that had followed him through the entire morning.
"What happens now?"
The silence lingered and he wondered if perhaps you would refuse answering.
Then finally—
"Nothing."
Aang frowned immediately.
"What do you mean?"
Your attention drifted toward the windows before returning downward once more.
"Gen has disappeared."
The words struck him hard, and he straightened instantly.
"What?"
"I am unsure where he has gone." You continued calmly.
Though something beneath your voice betrayed that you already knew far more than you allowed yourself to say aloud.
But Aang noticed the faint tightening around your mouth.
You knew.
Perhaps not the exact destination, nor the details surrounding his departure, but you understood.
And truthfully, so did he.
No servant escaped the estate unnoticed, especially not during the night following such scandal. Guards remained posted throughout every entrance surrounding the manor grounds, and after yesterday's chaos, the household had become even more alert than usual.
Someone had allowed Gen to leave.
Someone had chosen silence.
You understood that already.
Very few people within the estate believed your accusations. Outside of your four maids and Aang himself, the household seemed far more willing to protect the image of a loyal servant than acknowledge the possibility of such ugliness growing quietly beneath their own roof for years.
After all, accepting your truth would require every single one of them to confront the fact that they had welcomed Gen warmly into their lives while never noticing what he truly was.
It was easier to believe you mistaken.
You smiled bitterly, though anger restrained carefully beneath your composure sharpened every word leaving your mouth.
Aang stared at you in disbelief.
"How is that even possible?"
You remained quiet briefly before answering.
"He left behind a letter for my father."
Something cold settled inside Aang's chest.
You laughed once, because your restrained anger had nowhere else left to go.
"He wrote that he no longer felt welcome within the estate after being accused of such terrible things." You explained quietly.
"He reminded father how loyal he remained to my brother all those years, and how even following Renji's death, gratitude alone compelled him to stay within our household despite possessing no obligation to do so any longer."
Your fingers tightened against the blankets gathered over your lap.
"He claimed he had begun viewing me as a younger sister," you continued, "and that hearing such monstrous accusations from someone he cared for so deeply wounded him beyond forgiveness."
Aang felt sick.
You inhaled slowly before continuing once more.
"So rather than burden the household further with scandal, he chose to leave quietly out of respect for the family who once showed kindness to an orphaned servant."
The silence felt suffocating. Then finally, you smiled again. A completely humorless smile.
"Quite touching, is it not?"
Aang remained quiet for several moments after your bitter remark faded into silence.
Then, almost instinctively, his hand moved toward yours.
The touch came carefully this time, being gentle so that he could pull away immediately if needed.
A small part of him loosened with relief when you did not flinch from it the way you had the previous night, though your attention lowered immediately toward where his fingers rested lightly across your bruised wrist.
Without seeming fully aware of it himself, his thumb brushed softly against the discolored skin there, tracing absentminded circles over the injuries.
"I...have an plan." He admitted.
"And you can say no if you want to. I mean it. If you hate it, then I'll help you think of something else instead."
He hesitated briefly before adding—
"But just hear me out first."
You studied him silently, then your eyes drifted back toward his hand resting over yours.
Slowly, you lifted your free hand and placed it gently atop his before carefully guiding his touch away from your wrist. The movement carried no rejection within it, and Aang immediately let you move him without protest while you shifted on the bed.
Your legs slipped carefully over the side of the mattress before your posture straightened properly, forcing you to sit facing him fully now rather than hiding beneath blankets and shadows.
"Thank you, Aang," you murmured softly. "But I sincerely doubt you possess a solution capable of salvaging this situation."
"Like I said, you don't have to agree." He answered quickly.
"It's just..." He hesitated, suddenly uncertain how to phrase it properly. "I don't know how you'd feel about leaving home."
The words startled you visibly.
"Leaving my home?" you repeated slowly, disbelief threading through every syllable.
The very idea sounded impossible. Hujiang had always been your future.
You were born here. Raised here.
Even your eventual marriage would not truly remove you from these lands, merely shift you from your father's estate toward the royal palace waiting farther within the kingdom.
Your entire life had been built around remaining exactly where you belonged.
And yet—
Something within Aang's expression made it painfully clear that the place he imagined for you no longer existed within Hujiang at all.
"Yes," he answered quietly.
"I mean... I don't know if you're still going to marry Prince Jinhai, but—"
Your brows furrowed instantly.
"What precisely does His Highness have to do with this?" You interrupted. "Are you suggesting the prince no longer intends to marry me?"
The offense beneath your voice surprised him immediately.
"No!" Aang exclaimed quickly. "That's not what I meant at all. I just thought maybe if—"
The chamber doors suddenly opened before he could finish.
"My lady..."
Lian stopped abruptly the moment her eyes landed upon Aang kneeling beside your bed.
The older maid's expression hardened instantly before snapping toward Nari standing awkwardly behind her, the younger girl immediately lowering her head guiltily beneath the silent accusation directed her way.
Then Lian addressed Aang directly.
"Avatar Aang," she began firmly, "it would be wise for you to leave the lady's chambers at once. Had another servant discovered you here, the consequences could have—"
"What is in your hand?"
Your quiet interruption cut cleanly through her scolding.
Lian paused, and only then did Aang notice the rolled parchment clutched tightly within her grasp.
The maid's fingers curled instinctively around it.
"It is a letter. Two arrived from the palace moments ago. One addressed to the lord advisor..." She hesitated briefly.
"And the other to you, my lady."
You looked ahead quietly for a moment before speaking again.
"I see. Read it to me."
Lian visibly stiffened.
"My lady, such correspondence is intended for your eyes alone—" She protested carefully,
"I shall not repeat myself, Lian."
Your voice silenced the room instantly.
Lian looked genuinely surprised, because even if she had witnessed your tone, she herself had never been subject to it.
Slowly, reluctantly, she unrolled the parchment within her hands while Aang remained perfectly still beside your bed, his entire attention fixed upon you alone.
My Lady,
I have rewritten this letter more times than I care to admit, and still I find myself unable to place these thoughts into words that do not feel cruel.
For many years, I accepted our betrothal as duty before anything else, yet somewhere along the passing of time, that duty became something far more familiar to me.
Your future beside mine had become so deeply woven into my life that I confess I had long stopped imagining a future in which you were absent from it.
Which is why writing this pains me more than I anticipated.
Had yesterday's events remained private, perhaps matters may have unfolded differently. Yet too many witnessed the aftermath, and the word of your disappearance beside Avatar Aang, followed by Gen's departure from the estate before dawn, reached my father, His Majesty.
I cannot burden him more in his ill state.
I shall continue searching for Gen so that the truth of this matter may finally reveal itself fully, because despite everything, a part of me still wishes to believe your words.
But I would be dishonest if I claimed certainty remains untouched within me.
You disappeared beside another man. You concealed your growing closeness with him from me.
I do not know the full truth of what transpired that evening.
And perhaps that uncertainty itself has become the greatest fracture between us.
You deserve honesty from me at the very least, and honesty compels me to admit that doubt has already settled where unwavering trust ought to have remained between two people promised to one another since childhood.
For that reason, I can no longer proceed with our betrothal.
Please do not mistake this decision for hatred toward you, for I possess none. If anything, I regret deeply that matters arrived at such a conclusion after all the years placed before us.
May the Spirits guide you toward peace in the days ahead.
— Jinhai
Aang could scarcely process the contents of the letter even after Lian's voice fell silent.
Part of him felt ashamed for the relief that had instinctively surfaced inside him the moment Prince Jinhai's words confirmed the broken betrothal.
The reaction itself felt ugly considering the devastation sitting plainly before him, because regardless of what future this might open for his idea, the truth remained that you had just lost the final thing anchoring you to the life you possessed only yesterday.
Your future. Your title. Your place within Hujiang.
Gone within a single letter.
And perhaps what unsettled him most was the realization that only moments earlier, before the maids interrupted, you had already reached the very conclusion he intended suggesting himself.
You had heard him speak of leaving home and immediately assumed Prince Jinhai no longer wished to marry you.
Aang had denied it instantly.
Yet somehow it had become true anyway.
You swallowed visibly before finally speaking.
"Leave us."
Lian hesitated only briefly this time as no argument followed.
The maid rolled the letter shut quietly before bowing her head and exiting the chambers with Nari hurrying silently behind her. The doors closed softly moments later, leaving only yourself and Aang alone within the room.
Then suddenly, you laughed.
The sound startled him.
"So, it appears His Highness found my adventures with the Avatar considerably less charming than you did." You murmured faintly,
Aang immediately shook his head.
"That's not fair."
"Is it not?"
"He should've believed you."
You smiled faintly at that.
"No. He should have trusted me. Belief proves useless once trust has already failed." You corrected quietly
Aang inhaled slowly afterward before finally forcing himself to speak.
"This is what I wanted to talk to you about."
You looked toward him again.
And this time, Aang did not hesitate.
"I'll accept your father's proposal."
The shock crossing your face appeared immediate.
"...What?"
"I'm serious," he continued quickly before you could interrupt.
"Your father wanted us married because he thought it would give you a better future, right? Then maybe we can use that."
You stared at him outright now.
"Aang—"
"You don't have to stay here anymore. That's what I'm trying to say." He pressed on.
Offense sharpened instantly across your expression.
"You believe marriage to you would somehow free me?"
"No, that's not—" Aang stopped himself before trying again more carefully.
"I mean...yes. Kind of. But not in the way you think."
You looked thoroughly unconvinced.
Aang hurried onward before losing his nerve entirely.
"You wouldn't have to leave immediately." He explained.
"Appa still needs time to recover, and I'm not leaving until I find Momo anyway, so nothing has to change right away. But once we're married, your father can't force you into another engagement just because Prince Jinhai backed out."
Your brows furrowed deeply.
"And then what?" You asked quietly.
Aang hesitated briefly before answering honestly.
"Then eventually I leave, but you'd still be my wife, so no one here could really do anything about it." He admitted.
The absurdity of the conversation nearly showed across your face.
"Aang—"
"I know it sounds weird." He interrupted quickly.
"But listen—I'm not asking you to actually be my wife. You don't have to do anything." He rubbed nervously at the back of his neck before continuing.
"You can stay here as long as you want. I'll visit whenever I can, and when you're finally ready to leave Hujiang...You could come to Republic City." His voice softened slightly.
You remained silent.
"You said you admired Toph when I talked about her," he reminded gently. "And Katara too. You liked hearing about how she changed things in the Northern Water Tribe."
A faint smile tugged briefly across his face.
"Katara would help you. Honestly, she'd probably love you."
That finally earned the faintest shift in your expression.
"And once you're settled, once you have your own life and your own place somewhere nobody controls every decision you make..." He exhaled slowly.
"We can end the marriage completely when you wish. You'd be free."
Zuko listened without interrupting you once.
The room had grown almost entirely dark by now, the torch left burning low and the shadows swallowed most of his features whenever he shifted even slightly beside the bed. Still, you could make out the tension lingering across his expression the longer your story unfolded, particularly once Aang entered it.
"He was only trying to help you," Zuko murmured quietly.
The words carried no accusation toward either of you.
He leaned his head back lightly against the side of the mattress, turning his face slightly away from you while staring somewhere toward the darkened ceiling beyond.
"Yes." you answered softly.
"It was an incredibly ambitious idea. One I would never have expected from him." A faint breath escaped you then, almost resembling laughter.
"But I was grateful regardless."
Zuko remained quiet briefly before asking—
"Seeing as how you are here today, I am assuming you agreed."
"Not initially." You paused.
"I actually struck him across the face."
His head turned toward you immediately, visible surprise crossing his features despite everything weighing upon the conversation, you laughed properly for the first time all evening.
"You hit him?"
"It was not one of my finer moments."
"Why?"
The question lingered between you quietly.
"Because it angered me." You admitted honestly.
"Not him. The situation itself." Your fingers tightened faintly against the mattress.
"It was not his responsibility to repair what happened to me. None of it was his fault either, and yet throughout that entire night, a part of me continued wondering how different my life might have remained had he simply never arrived within Hujiang at all."
The confession tasted ugly spoken aloud.
"I blamed his presence for ruining everything." you whispered.
"And I hated myself for it almost immediately because he was the only person trying to help me while everyone else doubted my words."
You inhaled slowly before continuing.
"The moment my hand struck him, I regretted it." Your voice softened further then.
"Because when I looked at him, I realized he had already been blaming himself too."
Zuko's attention remained fixed entirely upon you now.
You swallowed thickly.
"Everyone around me questioned my honesty, My father, the servants, even Jinhai..." Your voice faltered briefly before steadying again.
"And perhaps that was why I finally broke in front of Aang. Because despite everything, he was the only person beside me."
A few tears slipped free before you fully realized they had formed.
You shifted slightly on the bed, pressing your face briefly into the bedding beneath you to hide the evidence of them before finally turning back toward Zuko once more.
"I had not even noticed myself crying at first." You admitted faintly.
"Then suddenly he was holding me while I sat there mourning the fact that my own father abandoned me the moment believing me proved inconvenient."
The bitterness within those words settled heavily between you both.
"I agreed to leave," you whispered quietly, holding Zuko's eyes through the darkness despite the tears still clinging faintly to your lashes, "because for the first time in my life, I understood Hujiang could no longer remain my home."
A bitter smile threatened briefly before fading just as quickly.
"It is a strange thing," you continued softly, "how words written upon paper can alter the course of an entire life. A few strokes of ink, a signature at the bottom, and suddenly every future you had imagined for yourself no longer exists."
You exhaled weakly.
"Gen left behind a letter. Prince Jinhai sent one of his own. Neither man had ever occupied enough of my life to warrant such influence over it, yet their words carried more weight than my own ever did."
The confession lingered heavily between you.
"I think that was the cruelest part." Your voice lowered further. "Not losing my engagement. Not even losing my home."
A quiet breath escaped you.
"It was realizing how easily a letter can decide whether your life belongs to you at all."
The silence stretching afterward should have been the end of it.
Truly, it should have.
You remained lying where you were, your cheek resting against the pillow while Zuko sat beside the bed in the dim lanternlight, both of you too exhausted to continue speaking yet somehow equally unwilling to disturb the strange quietness settling through the room.
Outside the chambers, the palace had long since fallen asleep. Even the servants moving through the halls earlier had disappeared entirely.
Zuko exhaled slowly before lowering his head back against the mattress behind him.
"Aang would be furious if he knew you were telling me all of this instead of him."
The remark carried the faintest trace of dry humor.
You smiled weakly.
"No. He would only grow confused why I shared it with you."
Zuko looked toward you at the exact same time.
From where he sat beside the bed and where you lay turned toward him, there existed barely enough space now for either of you to pretend this still resembled proper conversation.
"You should hate me a little."
The statement arrived so abruptly that you blinked.
"Oh, I do."
A weak chuckle accompanied the remark, though it faded when he failed to return it.
"I am truly sorry for what I said this afternoon." He apologized, and the sadness that crossed his expression felt genuine enough to stir a faint guilt within you.
"You could not have known."
"That remains no excuse."
His answer came immediately.
"I spoke carelessly. Worse, I judged you before understanding the circumstances." His eyes lowered briefly.
"I have spent enough of my life resenting those who did the same to me. I should have known better."
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
"Well, I did tell you that you ought to have been more mindful." You said at last,
The corner of your mouth lifted faintly.
"But I shall not hold it against you. This once."
The warning earned the faintest huff of amusement from him.
"This shall be the final occasion upon which I forgive you so readily."
"You forgive me?" The disbelief in his voice nearly made you laugh.
"Do not sound so surprised."
"I had assumed I would be apologizing for considerably longer." He confessed.
"Perhaps you should." You stated with a taunting smile.
"Still, I have been informed that forgiveness is considered a virtue." You added after a moment
"And who informed you of that?" Zuko questioned, looking away from you, already expecting Aang's name.
"Unfortunately, my father."
A quiet huff escaped him.
"I find that difficult to believe."
You lifted a brow. "And why is that?"
"Because from everything you have told me this evening, he appears to have possessed remarkably little faith in forgiveness."
The observation lingered between you.
Your smile faded slightly.
"He loved me."
The answer arrived immediately.
"He loved me very much."
Zuko did not dispute it.
You had spoken of abandonment, of betrayal, of a father who refused to believe you when it mattered most, and yet there remained no hesitation when speaking of his love.
For a moment, he found himself wondering whether that made the situation better or infinitely worse.
"Perhaps." He conceded quietly.
"He was not a cruel man." You spoke, and your expression softened.
It was painfully obvious to him that you were trying to convince yourself of a lie.
"No, I do not believe he was." Zuko agreed so as to not worsened your mood.
Silence settled once more.
Then—
"But I listened to all of that, and the only thing I could think about was how badly I wished someone had protected you sooner." He said quietly,
The confession settled heavily between you.
You stared at him for a long moment, something tightening painfully inside your chest at the sheer sincerity behind the words.
There was no performance in Zuko. No attempt to charm you. If anything, he sounded almost frustrated with himself for admitting it aloud.
For years, you had grown accustomed to people speaking about what should become of you.
Even your grief had only been met with solutions rather than understanding, every wound treated as something to be managed and endured with dignity rather than simply mourned.
Then Aang had arrived and, somehow, without intending to, disrupted all of it.
You still remembered the way he would listen without immediately offering an answer. The way he seemed far more interested in how something made you feel than in what ought to be done about it.
It had frustrated you at first. Then it had become comforting, and without even noticing, you had grown accustomed to being seen by him.
And tonight, after listening to every humiliating and painful detail of your life unravel, the only thing troubling Zuko seemed to be the fact that no one had stood between you and the suffering.
It left you strangely speechless.
"I am not certain what to say to that." You confessed.
"You need not say anything."
The answer came quietly as his attention remained upon the torch on the wall.
"I only thought it deserved to be said." He admitted.
The room settled into silence once more, one that wasn't the strained silence of strangers struggling to fill empty space.
Your attention drifted toward him, inevitably toward the scar crossing his face.
A scar that had kept you curious ever since you had seen him, one of which you finally knew the suffering behind it.
"Does it still hurt?"
The question escaped before you could reconsider it.
For a moment, Zuko appeared surprised. Then his hand lifted instinctively toward the burn before understanding quietly settled across his expression.
You had not been asking about the scar.
"No," he answered softly.
Something in his voice eased.
"Not anymore."
The reassurance carried more meaning than the words themselves, and whether he intended it or not, it reached far beyond the old burn upon his face.
You nodded slowly.
There was something unexpectedly comforting about that answer, perhaps because both of you understood it had never truly been about the scar at all.
Pain had a way of convincing you it would remain forever, only for time to quietly prove otherwise when you were no longer paying attention. The realization settled gently between you, unspoken yet somehow understood all the same, and neither of you seemed particularly inclined to disturb it with further conversation.
The night had already stripped away more honesty than either of you intended to offer, leaving behind a silence that felt strangely easier to inhabit than words.
You simply stared at each other, finding an odd understanding in your vastly different pasts.
Neither of you moved back.
Neither of you seemed fully conscious of leaning closer either, exhaustion dragging every thought slower than usual while grief and memory and warmth tangled together and you couldn't stop quickly enough.
Then your lips touched.
Softly.
So softly that for one suspended second it barely felt real at all.
You remained there in stunned stillness afterward, your breath caught somewhere painfully high within your chest while warmth spread sharply beneath your skin.
Zuko did not move either. The weight of the moment rested quietly between you both, neither deepening the contact nor breaking it, simply existing there within the terrible intimacy of realizing what had just happened.
Then his hand rose carefully toward your face, the touch against your cheek hesitant and cold, made to undo you entirely.
And without thinking, you shifted upward, closer toward him in return.
Pain shot violently through your shoulder.
A sharp gasp tore from you immediately as agony ripped across your back, wrenching you completely out of the haze. Your body recoiled on instinct while shock crashed into you all at once, your eyes widening as reality finally caught up with what had happened.
Spirits.
Zuko moved instantly, one hand reaching toward your arm to steady you.
"Did your wound reopen—"
"Leave."
The word escaped you too quickly, your voice trembling that it barely sounded like yourself.
Zuko froze.
And then the moment reached him too.
You watched the realization settle across his face in awful silence while he stepped back from the bed, one hand lifting toward his face before stopping midway there, the slight tremor in his fingers visible even within the dimness of the room.
Neither of you spoke.
There was nothing either of you could possibly say that would not make the moment cease to exist.
Zuko walked quietly toward the doors before leaving the chambers without another word.
The torch on the wall flickered once after he was gone, casting the room into shadow before the flame steadied itself again.
You did not sleep for the rest of the night.
chapter twelve coming soon...
a/n: well.
[taglist open] (please mention under the latest chapter or the story masterlist)
"fuck me husband. do your duty and bed your wife."
summary: zuko agrees to an arranged marriage with the princess of the earth kingdom but their alliance comes with terms. the most tasking one: producing an heir within a year. the only problem is zuko isn't over his ex, and you hate his guts.
pairing: firelord!zuko x earthbender!reader
cw: 18+, angst, panic attack, hallucinations, unprotected sex, creampie, protective zuko, series is not completely accurate to canon lore as it's a queen charlotte au!!
chapter one 𓏲࣪ ּ ֗ ִ chapter two 𓏲࣪ ּ ֗ chapter three 𓏲࣪ ּ ֗ chapter four 𓏲࣪ ּ ֗ ִ chapter five
🎙️this should not be surprising hahahaha he's been invading my mind terribly hence this <3 i hope y'all like these because they helped me indulge in adult zuko to another level lololol also there is a lot of smut fics that i looove (as they should be) but i think i would have to make a separate post for those, lmk if u guys want that ☝️☝️☝️☝️
also!!! pls feel free to promote yourself or recommend any more fics! and a thank you to all writers for their amazing works!!
P.S THIS GOES WITHOUT SAYING BUT PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS AND MINORS DNI WITH 18+ CONTENT, the rest is up to you as i am not in control of your media consumption :)
TUMBLR FICS
toph's older!sister x firelord! zuko by @marcespeaks
synopsis : in which your little sister, toph, is trying so hard to make you and firelord!zuko get along despite your obvious differences (for the sake of the gaang, of course, because toph has never had ulterior motives). and toph will do anything to get her way, absolutely anything.
notes : yes give me 14 of em but no seriously this was so so sweet and lovely ahhh
silent treatment by @emmyc0z
synopsis : zuko frequently leaves to adventure with the gaang, but when you have your first child your concern for his safety grows and so does your feelings of neglect. another letter from aang leads to a fight, and a long week of silence for zuko.
notes : who doesn't love some good old angst <3 (even if it lowkey hurts )
fire lilies by @leviousshishine
synopsis : being born with no power sucks. But as an unmarried noble woman, you still had a duty to get married. So you left your home and went to the palace, where the test for multiple women began. Who will be the Firelord’s Firelady?
notes : this is so interesting and i am so sat for this omlllll
Rose Garden Dreams; Torn At The Seams by @yenayaps
synopsis : contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor.
notes : this is everything to me atm, go read this if u have not already asappp!!!!!
hair troubles by @fawnindawn [ ♡ ]
synopsis : firelord zuko's hair is a mess after a mission with team avatar. his disheveled appearance sparks concern—but his refusal for any help reveals that the only person he allows to take care of his hair... is you.
notes : cute fluff heheheh love this <3
secrets still kept by @whatsup124u
synopsis : The gaang realized there’s some…tension between you and Zuko, and what are good friends for if not setting you two up? What they don’t realize is that you and Zuko have been together for years.
notes : i LOVE LOVE fics like these so cutesy !
THE FIRE LORD'S GARDENER CAN'T BE THIS CUTE by @kafeiin [ ♡ ]
synopsis : sent from the earth kingdom as a gesture of peace, you arrive at the fire nation with every intent to fulfill your duty of restoring the royal palace gardens. what you didn’t prepare for was the fire lord’s routine visits. you assume it’s to manage his suspicions. he assumes it’s to observe your progress. neither of you are correct. and falling in love was never the plan.
notes : so soft and adorable!!!!
untitled drabble by @selenechronicles
synopsis : what it would be like dating zuko <3
notes : this one is so real and so #me.
firelord zuko and his wife by @lovergirl-coffee
synopsis : when you, The Fire Lady, rescue your husband from a late night meeting and steal him back to your chambers..when you, The Fire Lady, rescue your husband from a late night meeting and steal him back to your chambers..
notes : fluff pls yes. i love u husband zuko.
firelord zuko and his royal advisor by @/lovergirl-coffee [ ♡ ]
synopsis : when avatar aang’s letter accidentally outs firelord zuko’s feelings for his royal advisor.
notes : omg this was so freaking cute and sweet and i love this sm so glad there are many parts to thiss
baby, come back to me! by @yn2ko
synopsis : After FireLord Zuko accidentally snaps at you, his wife, you start to pull away from him and give him the silent treatment until he finally realizes he's been neglecting you.
notes : make him grovel, i love grovelling <3 personally all men should have to grovel but it's zuko so i forgive him ig.....
scale of attraction by @/fawnindawn
synopsis : 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)
notes : YES. this was one of the first fic i read after i saw zuko all over my feed the first time and i got even more obsessed <3
heartburn by @writingmeraki
synopsis : in which, you underestimated just how deeply you still felt for the hot-headed fire lord. ( or where you're both idiots and you've finally gotten a potential chance. )
notes : urm 😃😆😅
BETWEEN PLANS AND PROMISES by @uhmnoidontthinkso [ ♡ ]
sypnosis: You forgot that you didn’t just say yes to Zuko—you said yes to the Firelord. Now you’re stuck in wedding planning chaos, palace politics, and expectations you never asked for, all while trying to hold onto the pieces of your old life before they slip away completely.
notes : another cutesy fic and this was soo beautiful <3
burning crimson by @arfemiz
synopsis : you could wear the crown and speak the right words and smile at all the right moments; and still find yourself alone in a garden, wondering if loving the fire lord was ever supposed to feel this much like disappearing.
notes : soft zuko yes pls i need him.
5:36 by @seumyo
synopsis : reader and zuko are engaged
notes : hehe simply adorable.
SMAU FICS (mostly set in modern!au)
-> fyi : i read some of these long ago but being the smau lover i am, i wanted to rec it to those who also love smaus!
transferred by @atlabeth
synopsis : trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.
notes : vividly have small bits of memories of me reading this and ah even after all this time i still remember how much i loved this <3
lovers among us by @loversamongus
synopsis : just a group of friends gaming, vibing, and falling in love.
allergies by @patchofsunlight
synopsis : Y/N has no feelings for her best friend’s brother. In fact, she might just be allergic to him with how much she definitely doesn’t like him.
Beautiful Day to Save Lives by @zukoszukhoes
synopsis : lifeguard smau !
AO3 FICS
-> just a bit of a fyi : most of the AO3 and wattpad fics are teen!zuko unless stated otherwise so keep that in mind when you read :)
The Unpredictable Fire Queen by @/MizzGinger
synopsis : Fire Lord Zuko needed a wife, fast.
You were the least tolerable of the bunch, so why not?
He just didn't know what he was setting himself up for...
notes : i read this quite a long ago but i remember it being fun to read so reccomending it here! `
Just Some Tea by @/LetsHaveABlast
synopsis : You've been traveling with the Avatar for a while, but failed to ever be introduced to the firey prince that was tracking them down. So imagine your surprise when you're told the weird but cute tea shop employee that almost threatened your life, was actually the fire lord's son? Honestly, at the rate your life was going... you should've known.
notes : this was one of my fave fics i indulged in like 2-3 years ago when i had a random zuko phase!
Burning Love by @/shogami [ ♡ ]
synopsis : You're a female thief, enemy of the Fire Nation, and partially on friendly terms with the Earth Kingdom. Well, that is, until you teamed up with the former Prince Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai. After seeing that he had split up from his uncle, you decided to join him on his journey to Ba Sing Se, and a little romance forms during the trip.
notes : cute cute cute and a lovelyyy read <3
Everything Happens For a Reason by @/atlabeth
synopsis : As a servant in the Fire Nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. But as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to realize a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.
notes : ahhh loved this one sm!!!
i've seen your face underneath my dreams by @mangomonk
synopsis : Since the end of Hundred Years War seven years ago, Fire Lord Zuko has been isolated in the Fire Palace, fending off assassinations and mending the Fire Nation and its burnt bridges, all while putting off the Fire Sages' demands that he take a wife. When Iroh finally finds him a match, he reluctantly agrees to the marriage, with the expectation of never speaking to her again and sending her off to Ember Island.
It proves to be more difficult than he expects though, when he realizes that his new wife is as stubborn as a dragon moose.
notes : i love a good husband zuko fic hehehe check this one out <3!
WATTPAD FICS
Doubled Elements by @/draninator [ ♡ ] [ ♡ ]
synopsis : the story of the girl behind it all.
notes : wattpad in the big 26 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬I CANNOT EMPHASIZE WHAT THIS FIC AWAKENED IN 14 YEAR OLD ME. IT WAS EVERYTHING TO HER. I feel like there are still people out there who would love this and i want them to discover this so <3
...and ofc i'll continue to update this as i read!...more to come!
Zuko was leaning back against the headboard with a breathless groan, leaving his lips as your fingers threaded through his messy black long hair, your fingers tugging at the strands gently. His attention never strayed from your pretty face, completely focusing on you and on the moment. You were straddling him, sinking down slowly onto his throbbing length with shaky breaths.
You were already on the verge of being overwhelmed, but Zuko's hands shot up from your thighs to your hips, halting you in your movements, causing a shudder to emit from your lips. "Zuko?" you whispered, blinking at him, confused.
"Don't move," he whispers into your ear. "Let me feel all of you." His words alone made your walls tighten around his length immensely, his head dropping to your neck, feeling his cock.
He tilted his head, but his cock twitching inside you made it really hard to focus much on what he was saying. "Fuck," he moans into your neck, almost bordering on a whimper, Zuko's arms circle around your body, one hand slides up your spine, pulling you flush against him until your chest presses to his. Zuko shakily breaths, "Stay still."
Your breath hitched, body trembling as his length pulsed inside you. "W-What? But-"
"Shh." He kissed the corner of your mouth slowly while holding you perfectly still. You don't think you could do this, you're already so overstimulated as it is.
The stillness was maddening. His cock throbbed inside you with every heartbeat, the stretch so deep and constant it had your body trembling from the effort of holding still. Your nails dug into his shoulders. "Feels so good.... my pretty wife, missed you so much," Zuko murmurs, "just a little longer... promise."
You whined, trying to roll your hips, but his hand immediately pressed down on your waist, pinning you harder against him. "No," he said firmly, and the deep sound of his voice made your body heat up further.
The minutes dragged, your body shivering from the overwhelming sensation of being filled and denied movement. Zuko kissed along your jaw. "You're shaking," he murmured, nipping lightly at your ear. "So needy."
You whimpered his name, and he finally pulled back enough to look at you, his eyes scanning every inch of your trembling body. "Hold out a little longer," he promised, hands gripping your hips tightly. "And then I'll let you fall apart as much as you want."
Your thighs trembled from holding yourself still, his cock throbbing inside you with every pulse of blood rushing through your veins. The ache was unbearable, and every breath made you whine softly into his chest.
"Zuko... I can't," you whispered with your voice cracking. "Please." You broke with a strained moan of his name, his cock deep inside you, clenching violently around him as your orgasm ripped through you, making your body shake in his lap. The wet sound of your release coating him only spurred him on, making his thrusts sharper.
"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, hips slamming into yours one last time as he spilled hot inside you, grip bruising on your hips. He buried his face in your neck, muffling a rough moan as his cock pulsed, filling you to the brim.
despite the tremendous growth zuko has had over the years in regulating his emotions and reeling back his more sadistic ways of achieving his goals, it’s no surprise that there are still moments where his past behavior peeks through in places that aren’t quite. . . standard for him.
“hm? I didn’t quite catch that, baby,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your flushed face as he pulls you closer, grip possessive, vice, the tension between you palpable and unmistakable. he forcefully bounces you on his thick cock as steam curls around you, water harshly sloshing with every sharp thrust your husband plants to your abused hole. it’s nothing unusual for zuko to pull you into the royal baths like this, craving a quiet escape from his relentless advisors and the chaos of certain friends who have always surrounded him.
but this time. . . this time was different.
“i—mph! i’m sorry! i’msorryi’msorryi’msorry—!”
“sorry for what? be more clear.”
“for ah! running straight into danger when you told me not to.”
“exactly. with absolutely no regard for your safety.” he clicks his tongue, a large hand coming down to swat at your asscheeks. “i know you’re a big, strong girl, but dealing with bandits alone isn’t something i want my wife to be doing in her spare time, especially when i’m off on avatar business,” he growls, tone edged with something firm but familiar.
frustration, worry. a deep desire to keep you safe in his domain.
you nod frantically, eyes glossed over with a mix of pleasure and guilt. you know how much zuko worries about you, a non-bender from foreign lands still unfamiliar with the true weight and danger of the fire nation territory.
you aren’t used to this, to life as royalty. to be waited on by maids and fed by famous chefs. you were a kyoshi warrior, above all. the only thing you knew here was him. his patience, steady presence, and strength. the way he looks at you like you hung up the moon and stars.
the fiery, dilated eyes that you cannot currently see.
“wanna look at you, zuko. haven’t seen your face in days.” you whimper, tears staining the crimson ribbon, the one tight around your eyes— the one he uses to keep his hair up.
“bad girls don’t get to have their way, princess. make me cum, and maybe i’ll grant you your wish.”
he slides his hands up your torso, teasing and featherlike. you could only shudder as you kept moving against him, your hands clinging to his shoulders and arms, stronger and broader than you remember, shaped by the years that have passed around him.
he thumbs at your nipples, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as his thoughts begin to wander. he feels the subtle change in you, the way you tense and draw closer, and his expression shifts into something more devious (and a tad vengeful) as he watches you carefully.
zap!
you gasp at the sharp sting against your chest.
lightening. from his fingertips.
“i didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart. you don’t get to stop until i punish you properly.” he tilts his head. “now, should i make you count?”
he’s still angry, but not unfair. zuko soothes the sting with his mouth, lips pressing and suctioning and lingering where the heat blooms, easing it with slow, careful attention from his hot tongue— the way he does to your achy cunt on the days of your period where your cramps hurt the most.
then, he does it again. lets a spark flicker against the flesh of your ass, clit, and chest again and again until you’re trembling against him, unable to keep yourself upright.
relentless and ruthless and so, so, so in love with you.
“i’m sorry, zuko. won’t ever do it again.”
“i know you are, baby. but i can’t forgive you just yet.”
“wh-what can i do to make you feel better?”
he pauses, thoughts drifting once more as he begins to picture you warm and glowing, a soft hand resting over the gentle curve of your stomach. that’s all he’s been thinking about, really. in meetings and missions, at night when he’s got an arm slung over your tummy as you sleep.
what it would be like for you to bear his children.
you have always been so patient, so natural with aang’s son bumi, and the image lingers longer than he expects. he can’t fathom anyone else standing beside him, anyone else he would trust with something as important as having his heir, something that felt like a future he once never thought he’d have.
(and it’d give him all the more right to be fussy and obsessive about your safety. to keep you in his palace and in his line of sight at all times.
to tie you to him for eternity and more.)
“a baby.” he quickens his pace, rough hands glued to your hips, now full on slamming into you. he’s delirious with want, the animalistic need to mark you and solidify your position as lady of this land once and for all. “give me a— fuuuck— baby. i want an heir, princess.”
“ah—! ah—! zuko, slow down! a wh-what? a-a baby?”
“yes. need you bred and pregnant by the end of the week— no— by tonight. that’s an order.” he jests, but there’s a heavy glint in his eye. your walls flutter at his words. “and i think this pretty cunt agrees with me.”
a vow. you would bare his child at once.
“o-of course, zuko.”
“then we can’t have the water washing away my cum now can we? gotta make sure it takes.” he presses a kiss to the side of your head, slow and lingering. then his teeth catch lightly on the ribbon, tugging it loose before he pulls it away from your face, letting it fall as he finally looks at you again.
he grips your ass. makes a move to stand, cock still buried to the hilt of your quivering pussy. you instinctively tighten around him, grappling at the expanse of his muscular figure.
“missed you so much.” you sigh, nuzzling into his face and nipping at his scar. he breathes in your scent. agonizes over the fact that you’d smell so much sweeter once you’re full of milk and spiritual energy. “wan’ a baby with you too, zuko. been wanting one for so long.”
he begins fucking upwards again, letting gravity drag you down his girthy length. “why didn’t you say so before, petal?”
“you were so busy with nation affairs and. . . with everything you’ve been through.” you bite your lip. “and we cannot guarantee our first born would inherit fire-bending.”
he chuckles. his sweet, thoughtful girl. “all the more reason to have one, flower. or many. it would strengthen the throne— strengthen foreign alliances— regardless if the fire lord can bend fire or not. and it would heal my past wounds in ways that you can’t even imagine. to see you and watch you be the most amazing mother to our children. . .” he groans as he feels himself drawing close.
you moan at his words, at the weight of him inside you and what this meant. “i’m so close, zuko. wanna feel you fill me. wanna give you a baby. make you a good father, too.”
his hips falter for a moment, breath catching. your arms wind around his neck, pulling him down as your lips meet his in a rushed, desperate kiss, the kind that says more than either of you can put into words as zuko leans into you without hesitation. he cums with a moan into your mouth, his semen coating your guts in long, endless spills. he feels your slick envelope him, walls milking him for everything he has.
“i love you.” he whispers into the crown of your head. “what an honor it’d be to start this new chapter with you.”
you can only smile against his chest, eyes drifting closed as sleep slowly takes you. you trust that he’ll always make sure you’re clean and ready for bed, wrapped safely in his arms.
your dreams blur soft and warm, filled with him, with the quiet image of zuko standing tall, a smaller version of him clutching the front of his robes as he holds them close, steady and sure like everything you’ve come to find in him.
︵ ೀ 'Your Hair' - Pt.2
Zuko making love to you - soft smut ahead
The heavy silk drapes of the Fire Lord’s bedchambers were drawn tight against the cool Caldera night, shutting out the rest of the world entirely. Inside, the only light came from the low, amber glow of a single brass brazier in the corner and the deep, natural warmth that radiated directly from Zuko’s skin.
He was completely, hopelessly undone.
The crown of the Fire Lord was gone, discarded on a low table near the door, and with it went every ounce of the stoic, measured restraint he was forced to wear like armor during the day. Here, in the quiet expanse of the massive low-slung bed, he wasn't a ruler. He was a man drowning in his love for you, consumed by an infatuation so fierce it felt almost spiritual.
Zuko hovered over you, his strong, calloused hands framing your face with a reverence that made your breath catch. His long, dark hair, entirely unbound, fell forward in a heavy curtain, draping over his shoulders and pooling against your skin, effectively walling the two of you off into a universe of your own making.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated against your lips. It wasn't just a compliment; it sounded like a confession, a truth wrung from the deepest, most vulnerable part of his chest. "Spirits, (y/n). Look at you."
His golden eyes were wide, dark with heat, and completely fixed on your face. He looked at you as if he were trying to memorize every line, every curve, every micro-expression, as if he couldn't quite believe that you were real and that you were his. The intensity in his gaze was staggering, a burning focus that felt even hotter than the fire he commanded.
You reached up, your fingers tangling in the silken length of his hair, pulling him down to close the agonizing fraction of an inch between your mouths.
The moment your lips met, Zuko let out a shaky, broken sigh, his body melting completely against yours. The kiss wasn't fast or hurried; it was deep, heavy, and intoxicatingly slow. He parted your lips with a lazy, deliberate pressure, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive rhythm that made your head spin. He tasted faintly of the sweet-tea he’d had earlier, but mostly he just tasted like heat and devotion.
As his mouth moved against yours, his hands slid down from your jawline, his fingers trailing down the sides of your neck. The short, blunt layers of your hair—the practical cut you’d kept since the end of the war—tickled the edges of his hands. He leaned his head to the side, his lips breaking the kiss to trace a path down your jaw, his nose nudging against the short, soft strands that lined your jawline.
He paused when his lips encountered the two longer strands of hair that framed your face, hanging lower than the rest to brush against your collarbone. Zuko let out a low hum of pure adoration, his lips pressing a soft, warm kiss directly into the hollow of your throat right beside those strands.
"I love this," he murmured against your skin, his thumb gently catching one of those longer locks and smoothing it flat against your collarbone. "I love your hair. I love the way it feels against my hands. I love everything about you."
The absolute sincerity in his voice made your heart hammer frantically against your ribs. You shifted beneath him, your thighs brushing against his hips, and the sudden, intimate contact made Zuko's breath hitch. He lifted his head, his golden eyes locking onto yours again, ablaze with a sudden, overwhelming spike of desire.
He moved slowly, deliberately, giving you every opportunity to set the pace, even though every muscle in his back was taut with the effort of holding himself back. His hands slid down to your waist, his large palms warm and steady as they gripped your hips, lifting you slightly to align your bodies.
When he finally slid inside you, a soft, breathless gasp tore from your throat. Zuko’s eyes went wide, his jaw dropping slightly as a low, ragged groan tore from deep within his chest. He didn't close his eyes; he kept them wide open, staring directly into yours as he buried himself completely within your warmth.
"Ah... (y/n)," he choked out, his forehead coming down to rest against yours for just a second, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The sheer pleasure of it seemed to overwhelm him, his features twisting into an expression that was almost painful in its intensity. "You're so warm. You feel so perfect around me."
He began to move, a slow, deep, agonizingly beautiful friction that made you arch your back off the silk mattress. Your fingers tightened convulsively in his long hair, pulling at the dark strands as the pleasure began to build, a heavy, radiating heat that centered in your core.
Zuko watched the change in your expression with a kind of obsessive fascination. Every time your eyes fluttered shut, he would lean down, nipping gently at your bottom lip or kissing your cheek until you looked at him again. He wanted to see you. He wanted to be entirely present in the sight of your pleasure.
"Don't close your eyes," he pleaded softly, his hips driving into yours with a steady, unhurried power. "Look at me. Let me see you."
You forced your eyes open, your vision slightly blurry with tears of sheer sensation. Zuko’s face was flush with heat, a deep, ruddy color spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. The burn scar on the left side of his face puckered with the intensity of his emotion, but to you, he had never looked more beautiful. He looked raw, completely stripped of his defenses, entirely at your mercy.
He was a firebender, a man capable of summoning roaring flames and devastating lightning with a flick of his wrist, but right now, he was trembling. His arms shook slightly as he held himself above you, his muscles rippling under his smooth skin as he set a rhythm that was entirely designed to maximize your pleasure.
"You have me," Zuko whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he pushed deeper, his hips grinding against yours in a way that made a small, high sob escape your lips. Hearing that sound, a fierce, triumphant light flared in his eyes. "You have all of me, (y/n). Everything I am. Every breath I take. It’s all yours."
He lowered himself further, pressing his torso flush against yours. The heat radiating from his chest was immense, a comforting, burning pressure that seemed to fuse your bodies together. His hands moved up, his fingers tangling once again in the short layers of your hair at the back of your neck, holding you steady as his movements became faster, deeper, driven by an infatuation that had completely bypassed his control.
Zuko’s kisses became frantic, peppering your face, your eyelids, your nose, your jaw, before returning to your mouth to drink in your gasps. He was worshiping you with his body, each stroke of his hips a silent vow of protection, of love, of absolute surrender. He was the Fire Lord to the world outside, but in this bed, he was entirely your devotee, consumed by the beautiful, terrifying fire of loving you.
The rhythm Zuko maintained was almost hypnotic, a heavy, deliberate tide that carried both of you further away from the shore of reality. He seemed entirely unbothered by his own release, prioritizing the slow, torturous building of your own tension with a selflessness that bordered on obsession.
His thumbs stroked your cheekbones, wiping away the few stray tears of pleasure that had escaped your eyes.
"Are you alright?" he murmured, pausing for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching as you squeezed around him instinctively. A shudder ran through his entire frame, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped. "Tell me if it’s too much. Tell me what you need."
"Don't stop," you gasped out, your hands leaving his hair to grip his damp shoulders, your nails digging into the solid muscle there. "Zuko, please... don't stop."
A dark, incredibly tender smile touched his lips at your words. "I couldn't stop if I tried," he whispered.
He resumed the pace, but there was a new edge to his movements now, a deeper urgency that mirrored the tightening coil in your lower stomach. The ambient temperature in the room seemed to rise, a subtle manifestation of his inner fire responding to his heightened emotions. The air felt thick, charged with an electric, heavy warmth that made every touch feel twice as sensitive.
He leaned down, burying his face in the curve where your neck met your shoulder, inhaling deeply as if your very scent could sustain him.
"You're everything," he growled against your skin, his hips driving upward with a sudden, powerful force that hit the exact spot inside you.
You shrieked softly, your back arching entirely off the bed, your toes curling into the crimson sheets. The world shattered into a thousand brilliant, burning sparks as your climax washed over you in great, pulsing waves.
Zuko didn't pull back. He leaned into the tightening pressure of your release, his eyes wide and fixed on your face as you rode the wave of pleasure. Seeing you shatter completely undid the last vestige of his control. His breath hitched, a low, guttural cry tearing from his throat as his own release hit him with the force of a tidal wave.
He drove deep inside you one last, desperate time, spilling himself into you as his entire body went rigid. The muscles in his back and arms locked up, his veins standing out under his skin as he poured every ounce of his love, his heat, and his soul into the union.
For a long, breathless minute, the only sound in the room was the harsh, ragged panting of the two of you trying to find your air.
Slowly, the tension left Zuko’s body. He didn't move away; instead, he collapsed forward, burying his face in the softness of your short hair, his chest heaving against yours. His heartbeat was a wild, frantic drumming against your ribs, a perfect mirror to your own.
He stayed inside you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so that you were curled flush against his torso. He tucked your head securely under his chin, his large hand coming up to gently stroke the back of your head, his fingers smoothing down the short, rumpled layers of your hair.
"I love you," Zuko whispered into the quiet of the room, his voice thick with emotion, his lips brushing against the top of your head. He sounded exhausted, completely spent, but beneath it all was a profound, unshakeable peace. "I love you so much, (y/n)”
You smiled against his chest, your fingers idly reaching up to find a long lock of his hair, twirling the dark, warm strand around your finger just as you had done in the afternoon shadows. "I love you more, Zuko".
The Fire Nation, the council, and the endless rebuilding of a broken world would be waiting for him the moment the sun broke over the horizon. But for now, in the safety of the dark, the Fire Lord was exactly where he belonged—completely infatuated, entirely loved, and utterly whole.
May I request zuko x clumsy firelady!reader like Shes not used to the long royal ropes and is always tripping on them or is just naturally a klutz I love the idea of zuko constantly trying to stop his wife from falling on the time you give him baby grays😭 thank you I love your writing!
Robes
⋆˚꩜｡ Firelord!Zuko x Firelady!Reader | fluff | cw: mentions of a small wound | wc: 1513 | a/n: thank u for the request and your sweet words <3 !! enjoy reading :) | masterlist
synopsis: there's much more to being a Firelady than traditional robes, at least Zuko thinks so.
“I see you’ve had quite a day…” The Firelord's voice reverberated throughout the room, a slight breathiness evident in his speech, clearly belonging to a man who had rushed to the scene but was trying to hide it. Y/n scoffed in response to his words, a cover-up to the hiss that was supposed to leave her in reaction to the stinging sensation of alcohol touching the crimson scab on her ankle as the palace physician tended to her.
He noticed her irritation, much like he noticed every other little thing about her. Zuko knew her well enough to deduce that her annoyance was hardly directed at him, rather at the situation. Thus, a smart man like him waited for the physician to leave before he tested whether he could poke the tiger; a slightly injured tiger, but a tiger nonetheless.
A second of silence had passed after the door shut behind them with the exit of the physician. He was worried, and so was she, but he had a strong feeling they were worrying about completely different things. “Does it hurt?” Zuko asked softly, finally making his way towards her and kneeling to inspect the bandage-clad skin on her foot. A sigh of relief left him instantly; the wound was not as big as he feared. It was hardly anything at all, especially for someone as fierce as her, and he knew that.
“Nope, it’s just a scrape. I didn’t even notice it at the start…” y/n casually replied, a mask over her vexation.
“What happened?” He asked, face lifting to expose the luminous glint in his irises. Zuko’s worries no longer sat at her injury, but at the urge to know that, if not for the wound, what had been bothering her? It was as if his eyes, with their earnest glow, were pleading for her to open up to him. Y/n and Zuko always strived to be transparent with each other, though internal battles always made expressing oneself a tad difficult.
Hence, she unsurprisingly avoided his gaze; a reflex. “You'll laugh,” her voice came out in a mutter. However, y/n knew it would be no more than a matter of seconds before he noticed the striking rip at the edge of her robe. Answering his question was useless, as the state of her clothing would speak much more than words.
And she was right. A simple wander of his eyes, and there he spotted the obvious tear of silk. “Again?” he heaved, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, facing her own. His hands instinctively moved to caress the bandaged skin. Perhaps his worry over her injury didn’t leave entirely.
Her lips rounded into a scowl, existing in contrast to the newfound redness of her cheeks from humiliation. “You say that like it's a usual thing…”
“Because it is,” he responded, oblivious to her embarrassment.
Her mouth immediately opened with a rushing desire to retort, though shut just as swiftly. The words never came. He wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. So with a frustrated huff, she began, “I was walking through the East Wing once I'd wrapped up this evening's council meeting, and I tripped on my robe. I didn't notice the wound until I came back here to get a change of clothes.”
And there, Zuko finally caught it; the flushed look on y/n’s face and the slight crack in her voice from the flusteredness. He finally realised why she was bothered. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean he knew what to say. "At least it was as the day was ending,” he responded with his usual awkwardness in an attempt to lighten her mood.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I fell in front of four guards! It was so embarrassing! The fact that this keeps happening is embarrassing!” she whined. “Whatever… I need to wash up—” She stood, though too quickly for her feet to steady themselves on the slippery silk fabric beneath her. Her heel slipped, almost causing her to fall face-first on the ground. How lucky for a pair of large, brawny arms to catch her right in time before the palace physician would have to visit again.
His hands on her waist steadied her. Zuko eventually heaved a breath of ease, a stark contrast to the yelp that left his mouth seconds ago, before he caught her. He took the opportunity to drag her onto his lap. “Are you okay?” he asked, ever the caring husband.
“Not again…” Y/n whined into the crook of his neck. “I hate these robes. They're ruining my life.” She lifted her head to catch a glimpse of him. “You’re enjoying this!” she howled, noticing the faint smile on Zuko's lips and the blush of his face.
“What? How could I?” gasped the innocent Firelord. While he surely didn’t find amusement in his wife’s suffering, he couldn’t help but savour getting to hold her so close. Nonetheless, he wanted to comfort her more than anything, so that meant letting her in on a secret he’d been hiding. “Uhm, this was supposed to be a surprise, but I've been talking to the Royal Tailor about a new wardrobe for you.” Excitement was evident in his tone as he began to ramble. “I’ve seen her designs, too. One of them is a pair of trousers with an open-front robe, instead of the regular long robe! I think you'll like her work. It's—” he paused, noticing the expression on y/n’s face: a slight frown, and a furrow of her brows. “You don't look so pleased…” he mumbled. “Are you doubtful of the designs? We can look over it together tomorrow.”
“It's not that,” she replied with hesitation. Her hand found its way to Zuko’s face, as if she were seeking calm from his presence, thumb brushing gently over his scar out of habit. “I appreciate you reaching out to the tailor for a new wardrobe. That was a lovely surprise indeed. You’ve put a lot of thought into this, as always, my love.” This earned an even redder blush from the usually stoic man. Y/n pinched his cheek once she’d noticed, soon continuing with her words. “Though what bothers me is that I can't even wear a robe right,” she groaned, her other palm rubbing over her face. “What kind of Firelady—”
“Nope, I hear you out usually, but I’ll hear none of that,” he interrupted. “You've gone above and beyond for our Nation. From the educational initiatives to the defence training to so much more. I don't even have words for how much I love and admire your work. What is a change of clothes next to everything else you’ve done? If anything, you should be dressed comfortably as you work. Being a Firelady is a lot more than just a long robe, and you’ve shown that.”
She nodded, acknowledging the correctness of his words. Her reasoning, on the other hand, was slightly elsewhere. “What I meant was that people will talk—”
“People always talk,” he interrupted again. “I think you know better than to place a few opinions over your comfort.”
Y/n faltered at his words; she truly did know better. “I hate when you’re right.”
“Forgive me, my darling,” Zuko quipped with a grin.
“You’re right about how clothing and what people have to say really do not matter at the end of the day. Thank you for going above and beyond. You didn’t have to go as far as to ask the tailor to design me new clothes, but you did. And if I’m being honest, I’ve wanted it for a while now. Trousers sound heavenly." Y/n paused before a titter left her lips. “And clearly, a change of robes means a lot to you too,” she joked.
“It's you who means a lot to me. No more long robes, no more tripping over and hurting yourself…” His voice then trailed off into a mumble, “and of course, driving me insane with concern over your safety.”
She laughed at his not-so-silent comment. “You mean a lot to me, too. I can’t wait to see the pieces the tailor has put together,” y/n beamed.
“Tomorrow then. Now you need to rest. Let's get you all cleaned up.” Zuko’s hands then wrapped around her, wanting to carry her to the warm bath he'd asked the maids to prepare before he entered.
She protested immediately, “I can do it myself—”
“You're injured,” Zuko said, as if stating the obvious.
Y/n squirmed in an attempt to escape his grasp, which, in response, led him to throw her over his shoulder, hand secure on her back. “Hey! Zuko, it’s literally just a scratch on my ankle!” she yelled, actually stating the obvious.
“It's also my excuse to ignore my work and spend more time with you,” he replied slyly.
She scoffed. “You’re lucky I love you.” And with that, y/n finally surrendered, letting him carry her to the bath chambers.
The edges of his lips lifted into a smirk. “I love you too, dearest.”
when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and for once, katara allows herself to hope—maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, bad father, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
(please check the story masterlist for the story warnings.)
WC. 5.2k
masterlist : story masterlist
chapter nine
a/n: if you hated the last chapter, you will despise this one.
When Gen had left, your mind had wandered everywhere except toward your rescue. You had not stood there praying for Aang or your father to find you.
The pain spreading through your body had already become too large to fight directly, and so your thoughts had drifted elsewhere, searching for anything that could keep you awake long enough to survive it.
You had thought about the estate.
About the servants whispering in the kitchens once the truth reached them, their voices trembling between disbelief and horror because Gen had belonged to this household nearly his entire life.
He had grown up beneath the same rooftops, moved through the same halls, earned the manor's trust so completely that everyone had stopped noticing he was only a servant.
The younger maids smiled whenever he spoke to them. Even your father had once claimed the boy carried more discipline than men twice his age.
You had wondered what would happen when all of that shattered.
How would they look at him once they learned what those careful hands had done to you?
How would they reconcile the image of the calm, obedient boy who stood beside your brother throughout his life with the man who had stripped the daughter of the house of her dignity only hours later?
Your thoughts had circled every possibility.
Perhaps your father would have him arrested and dragged through the streets in chains so the people of Hujiang could spit at his feet.
Perhaps the guards would beat him bloody before throwing him beyond the city walls.
Perhaps your father himself would put a sword through his throat and send him into the afterlife, praying your brother's spirit would finish what remained.
Those thoughts had kept you conscious while your arms started to numb and the night began to fall. They had given you something to hold onto until Aang finally found you.
Yet the truth standing before you now looked nothing like the vengeance you had imagined.
The crack of the slap still rang inside your skull.
Your head had snapped to the side from the force of it, the taste of iron flooding your mouth while heat spread across your cheek.
For a moment, you could only stare at the ground beneath you, unable to understand what had just happened, because your father had never struck you before.
Not once in your life.
Slowly, your eyes lifted toward him, burning with tears that refused to stay contained because you had to swallow the bitter reality.
This was his reaction.
Not rage for what had been done to you, but only fury directed at you for daring to speak it aloud.
This was how he reacted to speaking your truth?
The moment your father spoke of Gen informing them of what had transpired, the very last thing you expected was to see Gen himself descend from one of the carriages moments later.
He looked devastated.
His eyes appeared swollen red beneath the torchlight while his trembling hands clutched tightly around the silks that had once covered your body, the same robes he himself had stripped from you hours earlier before abandoning them purposefully along the roads leading away from the marketplace.
The sight alone made something cold twist inside your stomach.
Then your father looked toward him, and in that instant, you understood.
Gen had already spoken first.
"He informed us that you and the Avatar had disappeared together for several hours!" Your father continued sharply, his voice lowered to avoid carrying toward all who stood nearby though the anger beneath it was undoubtedly heard by everyone/
"When neither of you returned at the promised hour, he set out searching for you himself. He claims he discovered your discarded robes abandoned along the roadside."
Your lips parted weakly as you attempt to defend yourself.
"That is not true..." You whispered.
Your father barely seemed to hear you.
"He returned to the estate in distress," he pressed on. "Terrified that harm had come upon you."
Harm.
The word nearly made you ill.
Because Gen had indeed looked distressed when he approached you within the marketplace earlier that afternoon.
Panic had covered his expression so convincingly that concern seized you immediately the moment he reached your side, his voice hurried beneath the noise of the crowded merchant streets.
You could barely understand half the words leaving him.
He had kept glancing over his shoulder anxiously while insisting he needed to speak to you somewhere quieter. And when his hand wrapped urgently around your wrist to guide you away from the crowds, suspicion never once crossed your mind.
Not even once.
You remembered turning your head instinctively toward where Aang still stood nearby helping a merchant, ready to call out to him before following Gen any farther.
Then everything had happened at once.
Gen's hand hand covered your mouth, a cloth pressing against your face.
The unfamiliar scent had flooded your lungs that had made panic explode instantly through your body.
You had struggled desperately against him.
For nearly a full minute, you fought to pull free while your vision blurred unevenly around the crowded marketplace surrounding you both. Through the narrow opening between buildings, you could still see Aang searching frantically nearby, confusion already settling across his face upon noticing your disappearance.
You remembered trying to scream.
Trying to force your body toward him despite Gen's grip tightening harder each second.
Despite the ruckus, no one around you noticed.
The marketplace remained alive with merchants shouting over one another and customers crowding the stalls, far too distracted by entertainment and trade to pay attention to one frightened woman being dragged into a secluded alleyway.
You held onto hope for as long as you could.
Hope that Aang would look toward you, that he would notice.
Hope that he would turn around before the darkness swallowing your vision consumed you entirely.
But the last thing you remembered seeing before consciousness abandoned you was Aang disappearing farther into the marketplace searching for you in the wrong direction.
Everything after only came to you in fragments. You had felt the rough texture of an old robe being thrown over your body. The overwhelming dizziness stealing strength from your limbs.
And the horrible awareness of yourself being lifted helplessly onto one of the ostrich-horses, your unconscious body slumped against the very man who had done this to you.
Every part of it had been Gen.
Aang's attention remained fixed upon you even after your father pulled you away from his side.
Something about the way Lord Shuren held you unsettled him deeply.
The older man's grip appeared far too harsh against someone already struggling to remain upright, and when you stumbled slightly due to the exhaustion weighing your body down, Aang instinctively stepped forward.
"Wait—! She can barely walk—"
His movement halted almost immediately once Prince Jinhai had stepped into his path.
The two guards accompanying the prince positioned themselves silently at either side of him while torchlight they held flickered across polished armor and embroidered royal silks, casting long shadows against the dirt roads.
"This has become a rather unfortunate turn of events." Prince Jinhai remarked calmly.
Aang reluctantly dragged his attention away from you, though even while facing the prince, his concern kept pulling toward where Lord Shuren had taken you farther beside the carriages.
"Is she going to be okay?" He asked honestly.
The question seemed to catch Prince Jinhai entirely off guard.
For the first time since Aang had met him, the carefully composed stoicism cracked across the prince's face before a brief laugh escaped him in genuine disbelief.
"It appears the two of you have grown rather close within a remarkably short amount of time." he observed, amusement still lingering faintly beneath his words.
"Though perhaps you remain unaware that the lady is my betrothed."
"I know she is," Aang answered immediately. "And I'm not trying to—" He stopped himself with visible frustration before correcting his words properly.
"I admire her. She's kind, and she helped me when she really didn't have to. But that's all."
That response seemed to surprise Prince Jinhai further. The prince studied him carefully before speaking once more, his amusement now subtle though no less formal.
"Then I confess myself somewhat confused."
Aang frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I had understood Air Nomads to practice celibacy until marriage." Prince Jinhai continued thoughtfully.
"Though I suppose your rather tragic circumstances may have altered certain customs over time."
Aang immediately disliked the direction of the conversation. Still, he forced himself to remain silent.
"Even so," the prince continued, "the lady ought to have exercised greater restraint despite her existing betrothal. This entire matter is deeply unfortunate for all involved."
Aang's confusion sharpened instantly.
"What are you talking about?"
Prince Jinhai looked genuinely puzzled by the question itself.
"You fled together, did you not?" he asked plainly. "Surely I need not pretend ignorance regarding what occurred afterward."
Aang stared at him, then realization struck against him and anger surged instantly through his chest.
"What?!" he exclaimed. "No! I didn't touch her—"
The rest of his words vanished beneath the sharp crack of a slap echoing through the night air.
The sound had silenced everything.
Aang and Prince Jinhai turned at the exact same moment alongside nearly every guard surrounding the carriages, their attention snapping immediately toward the source of the strike echoing through the outskirts.
Your father still stood before you with his hand outstretched from the impact.
Meanwhile, you remained frozen several steps away from him, one trembling hand clutching your cheek while shock spread visibly across your face.
The force of the slap had nearly knocked you sideways, and in your disorientation, your weakened fingers instinctively loosened around the red robes wrapped tightly across your body.
The fabric slipped from your shoulders at once enough for the thin inner robes beneath to become visible, the delicate material clinging unevenly against your body while the bruises scattered across your throat and chest revealed themselves in cruel clarity before everyone present.
You saw your father's expression darken instantly at the sight.
It wasn't disbelief or horror that struck his countenance.
It was disgust.
The sneer curling faintly across his face struck harder than the slap itself.
Aang felt anger ripple through him instantly.
"Hey—!"
He moved without thinking.
The moment he stepped forward, Prince Jinhai's guards reacted immediately, both men crossing their spears sharply before him to block his path while the prince's calm voice followed only a second later.
"It would be wise not to interfere, Avatar Aang."
"He just hit her!" Aang snapped furiously, struggling against the crossed spears barring his path.
"Why aren't you stopping him?!"
Then his eyes caught movement near one of the carriages.
Gen.
The moment Aang saw him standing there clutching the discarded silks against his chest while avoiding everyone's eyes, something inside him twisted harshly making his snarl.
"You."
The word left him cold.
A burst of air exploded outward before either guard could react properly, the force sweeping both men entirely off their feet while their spears scattered uselessly across the dirt roads.
Several guards nearby shouted in alarm immediately, though Aang barely heard any of it while striding toward Gen with barely restrained fury.
Gen stepped backward instinctively.
Too late.
The earth beneath him had shifted with Aang's hands.
Stone and dirt surged upward around his ankles in one swift movement, hardening instantly around his legs before locking him firmly into place. Gen cried out sharply in panic the moment the earth constricted tighter around him, the sudden force wrenching him downward hard, making his collapse painfully onto his knees.
Aang stopped directly before him.
"You think you can do something like this and just stand here pretending to be innocent?!" He shouted, fury finally breaking openly through his voice.
"She trusted you!"
Gen looked genuinely terrified.
The silks slipped from his grasp entirely while fear overtook his expression, his hands clawing uselessly against the hardened earth trapping his legs in place.
"I—Avatar—I swear—"
"What exactly were you planning to tell them happened inside that house?" Aang demanded, stepping even closer.
"That she begged you to drag her there too?!"
"Release him at once, Avatar Aang!"
Lord Shuren's voice cut sharply through the chaos while he strode toward them from your side, fury and alarm both visible across his face.
Aang turned toward him in disbelief.
"Why?!" he exclaimed. "After what he did to your daughter, why would you want him walking free?!"
Lord Shuren stopped only a short distance away from Aang, anger still visible despite the effort he made to compose himself before the guards and the royal company surrounding them.
"That boy," he said sharply while motioning toward Gen's restrained form, "was the one who returned to the estate in panic once the two of you vanished. He came seeking aid while you remained absent for hours alongside my daughter."
Aang stared at him in disbelief.
"He was the one who—"
The words caught in his throat.
You stood only several feet away. Your trembling body, still wrapped in his robes, the bruises still fresh beneath them.
Aang could not force the words aloud while you remained there listening.
Then your voice broke through the silence instead.
"I speak the truth, Father. He was the one who touched me."
The words came quietly, trembling as if you already knew his response.
Tears continued slipping silently down your cheeks while your fingers clutched weakly around the slipping robes, your voice shaking harder with every word spoken toward the father refusing to look at you.
"Why will you not believe me?"
Shuren did not answer. Not even once did he turn toward you.
Several steps away, Prince Jinhai had approached closer during the confrontation to overhear everything despite Shuren's earlier attempts to keep the matter contained.
The prince remained silent, though the slight narrowing of his eyes revealed a genuine fracture in his calm composure.
Still, it was Shuren who spoke again.
"I do not know what precisely my daughter has told you," he said coldly toward Aang, "but that boy has served my household faithfully for years. She ought to know better than to cast such monstrous accusations upon him after being discovered in such circumstances."
Aang's anger spiked.
"She's not lying!"
"Release him."
"No."
The refusal came immediately.
Aang did not even hesitate.
The earth surrounding Gen's legs tightened instinctively beneath his anger, forcing another pained sound from the kneeling man.
Lord Shuren's face darkened even more.
"This is how the Avatar repays the hospitality shown to him within my estate?" He hissed.
"You call this hospitality?!" Aang shot back furiously. "Your daughter is standing right there telling you what happened to her, and you won't even listen!"
Shuren said nothing.
Since the confrontation began, uncertainty crossed his face for the first time while his attention shifted toward Gen kneeling helplessly in the dirt.
He refused to lift his head, his breathing uneven beneath the weight of every eye focused on him
Then Prince Jinhai finally stepped forward.
"Avatar Aang." he called calmly, and authority in his voice immediately quieted the surrounding tension.
"If the accusations prove true, the boy will not escape punishment."
Aang did not move, and Prince Jinhai continued regardless.
"However, if you continue restraining a citizen of Hujiang through force before witnesses without formal investigation, this matter shall become far uglier than it already is." His eyes settled briefly upon you before returning toward Aang once more.
"And I suspect the lady has suffered enough humiliation for one evening."
That seemed to reach him.
Aang's heart tightened as his anger visibly struggled against reason for several painful seconds before the earth surrounding Gen's legs finally loosened.
The earth cracked apart.
Gen collapsed forward into the dirt with a sharp gasp before quickly scrambling backward away from Aang, fear consuming him.
Lord Shuren wasted no time.
He strode directly toward you before taking hold of your arm firmly to pull you toward the carriage, ignoring the quiet sob escaping you at the movement.
You offered no resistance anymore, too exhausted to fight while he guided—nearly dragged—you toward the waiting carriage bearing your household crest.
Behind you, Gen shakily rose onto his feet before hurrying toward the second carriage after first bending down to retrieve your discarded silks laying forgotten.
You noticed it, and the sight made you sick.
Aang watched silently while the carriage doors shut behind you.
Only once the servants and guards finally began preparing for departure did he turn toward Prince Jinhai once more.
"You believe her, right?" He asked firmly.
Prince Jinhai remained quiet for a moment.
"The evidence upon her body was...difficult to ignore. As were the circumstances leading to tonight." He admitted at last.
Aang stepped closer.
"I turned my back for one second and she disappeared," he said, frustration heavy beneath every word.
"Hours later I tracked her here." He motioned sharply toward the abandoned house looming behind them beneath the darkness.
"And when I found her, she was chained to the wall."
That finally seemed to truly catch the prince's attention.
"The restraints are inside." Aang continued quickly.
"I broke them myself, but the chains are still there. Her wrists were bruised because of them."
Prince Jinhai said nothing. His attention stayed on the abandoned house before he finally exhaled quietly through his nose.
"...Very well," he said at last. "I shall look into this matter personally."
Then his expression settled back into his usual unreadable one once more.
"For now, we should return to Advisor Shuren's estate." He continued calmly,
Aang had been pacing outside Shuren's study for what felt like an endlessly long time.
The corridor surrounding remained silent beneath the late hour, save for the distant sounds of servants moving through the estate and the occasional shifting of guards stationed nearby. Lanternlight flickered softly against the floors while shadows stretched long across the walls each time Aang turned sharply during another restless pass down the corridor.
He could not stop thinking about you.
Every attempt to sit still had failed within seconds.
The image of you standing outside that abandoned house refused to leave him alone no matter how hard he tried forcing his thoughts elsewhere. Your shaking hands, the bruises scattered across your skin, the way your voice had broken when you spoke Gen's name—
Aang pressed both hands briefly against his face before exhaling sharply.
He wanted to check on you.
Spirits, he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were alright, though he already understood such a thing would never be permitted tonight. The moment you returned to the estate, servants and physicians had hurried you away toward your chambers while Lord Shuren disappeared alongside Prince Jinhai into the study without another word spoken toward him.
And Gen...
Aang frowned deeply.
Gen had returned to the estate much later than everyone else. Aang had noticed the second carriage arriving only shortly after he himself had entered the manor, though since then, the servant had seemingly vanished.
Aang wondered whether Gen stood inside the study now alongside them.
Whether he was still lying.
And whether Prince Jinhai believed him.
The pacing eventually slowed the longer the silence stretched behind the closed doors before finally halting the moment the study doors opened at last.
Prince Jinhai emerged first.
The prince paused briefly upon noticing Aang still lingering outside the chambers, though no surprise crossed his expression at the sight. Neither of them spoke. Prince Jinhai offered the smallest acknowledgment of his presence through a restrained nod before continuing past him down the corridor, his guards immediately falling into step behind him without question.
Aang barely waited for them to leave before entering the study himself.
The heavy doors shut softly behind him.
Lord Shuren stood near the large windows overlooking the darkened estate grounds below, one hand resting behind his back while the other pressed lightly against the edge of the carved wooden table beside him.
The exhaustion visible across his face made him appear older, still, when he spoke, the authority in his voice remained unchanged.
"You ought to be resting, Avatar Aang."
Aang ignored the remark.
"Where's Gen?"
Shuren's face hardened immediately.
"That matter no longer concerns you."
"It does concern me, because she was telling the truth." Aang argued, frustration tightening visibly through his voice.
Shuren finally turned fully toward him.
"I do not know what precisely my daughter has said to persuade you into supporting this tale, but I must admit myself deeply offended by the accusations you continue placing upon that boy." He replied carefully.
Aang stared at him in disbelief.
"Tale?" he repeated. "You think she made all of that up?"
"What I think is that my daughter placed herself into circumstances severe enough to invite disgrace upon both herself and this household." Lord Shuren interrupted firmly,
Aang's jaw tightened sharply.
"I didn't touch her," He said immediately. "I swear to you, I didn't do anything."
Lord Shuren finally moved away from the window, crossing slowly toward the chair behind his desk before lowering himself into it with visible weariness settling across his features.
"First," he began evenly, "you are welcomed into my estate and cared for during your recovery. Then, despite refusing my proposal regarding my daughter's hand, which I graciously chose not to hold against you, you proceed to disappear alongside her for hours while fully aware she is promised to another man."
"I already told you nothing happened!"
"And yet she returns half-dressed from an abandoned house while accusing a servant who has remained loyal to my family for years."
Aang took another step forward immediately.
"Because he's the one who hurt her!"
Lord Shuren exhaled slowly through his nose, exhaustion creeping into his posture beneath the strain of the conversation.
"Put yourself in my position, Avatar Aang. Would you so easily accept such accusations?" He asked quietly.
"Yes," Aang answered without hesitation.
The response made the older man off look at him carefully.
Aang continued before he could interrupt.
"If she were my daughter, I would believe her." He said firmly.
"Because she's my kid. And if my child came to me crying, saying someone hurt her, I wouldn't stand there wondering if she'd made it up."
Silence settled heavily across the study, and Shuren lowered his eyes toward the desk before him, his face morphing into one of sorrow, one more uncertain than anger this time, though whatever thought crossed his mind disappeared with another long exhale.
"I..." He stopped, visibly exasperated.
"You are young, Avatar Aang. There are certain realities you do not yet understand."
Aang frowned immediately.
"What realities?"
Shuren leaned back slightly within his chair, exhaustion settling heavily across his features beneath the dim lanternlight surrounding the study.
"Had Prince Jinhai not accompanied us tonight, this matter may have unfolded...far differently." He admitted carefully,
Aang stared at him in disbelief.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means, that it would have been significantly easier to turn a blind eye toward tonight's indiscretions had the Crown Prince himself not witnessed it." Shuren continued evenly.
Aang's expression hardened instantly.
"You wanted to ignore what happened to your daughter?"
Lord Shuren's composure finally cracked slightly at the accusation.
"It was no secret my daughter had developed an attachment toward you." He replied, irritation sharpening his tone. "The entire estate observed it plainly."
"She was helping me. That's all she was doing." Aang argued immediately.
"And I took great pride in that." Shuren answered.
"Do you imagine I failed to recognize the honor attached to my daughter standing beside the Avatar himself? Spirits, I believed perhaps your continued closeness would eventually lead you to reconsider the proposal I once placed before you."
Aang blinked, confusion crossing him before frustration overtook it entirely again.
"She never showed any interest in me." He said firmly.
"And I never gave her any reason to think— I mean...we became friends. That's it. I'm grateful to both of you for helping me, and I care about her, but not like that."
Shuren remained silent for several moments, then he spoke quietly.
"Yet I observed how quickly you grew close regardless."
Aang opened his mouth to argue further, but Shuren continued before he could.
"When you refused my proposal initially, I chose not to resent you for it," he said calmly.
"You are the Avatar. Your life does not belong entirely to yourself. I understood that much. But once I witnessed the attachment forming between the two of you, I believed perhaps time would alter your perspective."
Aang looked unsettled.
"And instead, you disregarded her position entirely and bedded a woman already promised to another." Shuren continued, disappointment lacing his voice.
"For the last time, I did not touch her!" Aang snapped, and the force behind the words echoed harshly through the study.
Aang took another step forward afterward, anger and disbelief both burning openly across his face now.
"And Gen did this! You were the one who sent him with us!" He exclaimed.
Shuren's brows tightened.
"I instructed him to accompany the two of you precisely to prevent impropriety." He replied coldly.
"Then why are you acting like this is somehow our fault?! You trusted him enough to send him with her, and he hurt her!" Aang demanded.
Shuren's jaw tightened visibly.
"Or, he stumbled upon two young people allowing emotion to overtake reason and returned horrified by what he witnessed." He countered quietly
Aang looked utterly stunned.
"You can't seriously believe that."
The older man stood from his chair, slower this time, his posture seemingly burdened by the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.
"I do not know what to believe tonight." He admitted at last.
"I know only that my daughter's reputation hangs by a thread, Prince Jinhai has witnessed enough scandal to threaten years of careful negotiation, and the household servant accused of this crime has remained loyal to my family since childhood."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"And I know that if these accusations prove false, then an innocent man shall suffer for nothing more than standing between two reckless young people."
"An innocent man—"
"This will harm your reputation as well, Avatar. Perhaps it is best you leave Hujiang altogether." Shuren interrupted him.
Aang could only stare at him, struggling to comprehend how calmly these words continued leaving Lord Shuren's mouth.
The man spoke of reputation more than suffering.
He prioritized his negotiations more than truth.
He only thought of propriety more than his own daughter trembling beneath bruises inflicted by a man everyone trusted.
And perhaps the worst part of it all was that Shuren believed himself reasonable.
The realization made Aang's heart lurch in his chest.
For the first time since arriving within Hujiang and meeting you, he truly understood how trapped you must have been long before tonight ever happened.
Your life had already been decided for you years before you were old enough to understand what betrothal even meant. Your future had been negotiated between powerful men while everyone around you praised it as fortune.
You would get a palace, a lovely prince.
A crown someday resting upon your head.
And yet no one seemed to care whether you yourself desired any of it.
Aang suddenly could not imagine you remaining here for the rest of your life without feeling your true self slowly disappear.
And beneath all the anger boiling inside him was something far uglier.
Guilt.
He could have avoided the storm, but he was impatient.
Appa's injuries existed because he failed to protect him properly.
Momo remained missing because Aang had brought him into danger.
And now you...
Aang lowered his head, the guilt piercing painfully through his chest.
If he had never fallen into Hujiang, none of this would have touched your life at all.
You would still be walking peacefully through your gardens. Still arguing playfully with your maids over tea.
Instead, your entire world had shattered within the span of a single evening because his existence crossed your path.
Part of him wanted to leave immediately.
He felt as though leaving would simplify everything.
No Avatar, no more scandal.
Then there would be no reason for suspicion to continue circling your name.
But the thought vanished almost as quickly as it arrived, because if he left now, who would stand beside you?
Your own father refused to believe you. The servants would follow his judgment without question. Prince Jinhai remained uncertain at best.
And Gen—
Aang's jaw tightened immediately.
Gen would walk freely through these halls while you remained alone carrying the shame of what had been done to you.
No.
The thought alone made him feel sick.
"I'm not leaving," he said suddenly.
Lord Shuren looked toward him.
Aang straightened fully before continuing, determination settling visibly across his expression despite the exhaustion dragging at him.
"I don't care if you believe me right now, but she shouldn't have to go through this alone." He said firmly.
Something unreadable crossed Lord Shuren's face.
He studied him silently for several moments before speaking at last, his tone calmer now though no less careful.
"You speak with admirable conviction, Avatar Aang. Though conviction alone rarely shields a woman from the consequences of impropriety." He said quietly.
Aang frowned slightly.
Shuren continued regardless.
"A woman's reputation, once fractured publicly, seldom recovers entirely. Particularly when circumstances place her alone beside a man not her husband." His attention lingered thoughtfully upon Aang afterward.
"The world tends to care less for truth than for appearances."
Aang remained silent.
"And yet, appearances can occasionally be repaired...provided the man beside her possesses sufficient honor to assume responsibility for them." Shuren added slowly.
Aang said nothing after that.
The air between himself and Shuren felt too heavy for further argument, and whatever words still remained inside him no longer seemed capable of reaching a man so devoted to preserving appearances that he could not recognize his own daughter's suffering.
So instead, Aang simply turned and left the study.
The corridors stretching through the estate remained dim, though he no longer needed servants guiding him through the manor halls. His feet followed the same path you had once shown him when his greatest concern had merely been reaching Appa safely.
The memory stung now.
When he finally reached the infirmary chambers, the guards stationed outside immediately straightened upon noticing him approach. Their orders had been strict, no one permitted entry without either yourself or Lord Shuren accompanying them personally.
Still, none of them attempted stopping the Avatar.
Inside, the room remained peaceful beneath low lanternlight.
Appa slept heavily across the joined mattresses arranged beneath him, his breathing deep and slow while fresh bandages wrapped securely around the injured leg still healing beneath weeks of treatment.
Aang crossed the room quietly before lowering himself beside the sky bison's massive body, leaning back gently against the familiar warmth of Appa's fur as fatigue finally settled heavily through him.
For a long while, he simply sat there listening to Appa snore softly beside him.
Then Shuren's words returned.
A woman's reputation, once fractured publicly, seldom recovers entirely.
Aang frowned deeply.
What was he even supposed to do now?
Part of him tried imagining what Sokka would say in a situation like this. Another part wondered how Zuko would handle it, though that answer honestly worried him slightly.
Katara, however—
Aang suddenly straightened.
Wait.
"Katara!" he exclaimed aloud, eyes widening instantly as the thought finally struck him.
chapter eleven coming soon...
a/n: shorter chapter, i knowww! but i needed the next events to happen separately. chapter eleven is the last chapter of this flashback sequence, and it is where the story changes.
I AM SO EXCITED!
[taglist open] (please mention under the latest chapter or the story masterlist)
꒰ Damian decided to pay Jason a visit & notice how his body got softer after getting a girlfriend! ꒱
Damian didn’t usually visit his brothers of his own free will. Most of the time, he only stopped by the apartment to grab a quick snack or pick up some accessory that might be useful to him.
But, surprisingly, on that day—on that perfect day—he had decided to be an inconvenience to Todd, simply because he had nothing better to do.
You were in the kitchen, finishing plating the dessert that would accompany one of your movie nights with Jason.
Used to your boyfriend’s entrances and exits through the window and balcony, you didn’t startle when you heard one of them being opened, continuing to hum absentmindedly.
It was only when you turned to wash your hands that you remembered a small detail—Jason was in the shower.
The humming slowly died in your throat.
You dried your hands calmly—much calmer than you actually felt—and turned your head toward the living room, just enough to peek through the doorway.
And there he was, sitting on the couch like he owned the place, legs crossed as he ate popcorn. He chewed slowly, eyes focused on the turned-off television, as if he were waiting for something to start.
He stopped the moment he noticed you.
You stopped the moment you noticed him.
For a long second, neither of you moved.
His green eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, suspicious. “…You are not Todd.”
You blinked once.
“No…” you answered slowly. “And you are definitely not Jay either.”
Jason appeared in the hallway, hair dripping, but already wearing sweatpants. “You started it without me? I told ya I wanted to watch the opening too—”
He stopped mid-sentence, falling silent, his mouth parting in shock—maybe at the scene? At your calmness with the intruder? Or at the intruder’s sheer audacity?
“Just what I needed,” Jason growled, voice sharp with irritation. “Why the hell are you in my apartment?”
Damian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, chewing calmly. He simply shrugged—after all, how was he supposed to explain that he had only come to check if he was still alive? It had been a whole month since he last saw him. But he wasn’t worried!
“That’s mine—Damian, you should be at home. Your home.” Jason sighed, running a hand down his face. “Get off my couch. And stop eating my food.”
Damian ignored him completely. He leaned further back into the cushions, posture relaxed in a way that made Jason’s eye twitch. Then his gaze shifted slowly toward Jason.
“You look… fuller. Softer,” the younger one commented, his gaze drifting briefly toward you, who watched the argument in silence, before quickly returning to his brother.
Damian tilted his head to the side, as if evaluating a painting.
“Have you reduced your training frequency,” he continued, his voice strangely neutral, not teasing, just observational, “or simply increased your intake of nutritionally void food?”
“Did you just call me fat?”
“…No,” he replied, but then paused to think for a few seconds. “Did I? I merely commented on your body fat—“
Jason crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.
“…Whatever,” he continued, tone quieter now, more thoughtful than before. “You no longer smell like cheap takeout grease and smoke. That is an improvement.”
“…That would be because he finally eats real food now,” you cut in, smiling, proud of your contribution to your boyfriend’s health.
Jason shot you a look over his shoulder, a little wounded that you had indirectly agreed with the little demon.
Damian reached out to grab more popcorn, but Jason slapped his hand away.
“Stop. Eating. My. Food. Okay. Great. Family bonding moment over.” Jason clapped his hands once, sharp and final. “You’ve seen me. Now out. Door. Window. Vent. I don’t care. Pick one.”
Damian’s attention snapped back to you, still ignoring his brother. He straightened slightly where he sat, gaze narrowing with renewed interest.
“You prepare the food?” he asked.
You nodded once. “Most of it.” You smiled. “Do you want to try the dessert?”
“…Dessert?” he repeated.
“I made chocolate cake,” you added casually. “With ganache.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed again. “…Homemade?” he asked.
“Yes.”
You disappeared into the kitchen before your boyfriend could protest.
Jason took a deep breath and dropped onto the couch, far too tired to argue any further. When the younger one opened his mouth to speak, he cut him off immediately.
“Not one more question,” Jason muttered. “Eat in silence.”
you tell aang you wanna break up with him and he acts like he's a good sport about it but he's showing up to your house everyday, still sleeping in your bed and holding you close and definitely still fucking you so so deep and whispering sweet nothings and even sweeter promises in your ear to the point you're the one asking him to try again
Aang absolutely loves rainy days because they force everyone to slow down. No rushing off to save villages, no training schedules, no long journeys on Appa. Just a quiet day with you.
He wakes up before you and immediately notices the rain tapping against the windows. Instead of getting out of bed, he curls closer, deciding that whatever plans he had can wait.
The moment you try to get up, he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face into your shoulder.
"It's raining. That means we're officially required to stay here for at least another hour."
-–—•
Zuko:
The two of you would spend most of the day tucked away in his private chambers, wrapped in blankets with steaming cups of tea. Zuko claims he wants to read reports, but somehow he always ends up abandoning them whenever you ask for his attention.
He'd secretly enjoy sitting beside a window with you, listening to the storm together. Not much talking required. Just your shoulder against his and his hand finding yours beneath a blanket.
If the rain becomes particularly heavy, he'd convince you to join him on one of the covered palace balconies. Standing there together, watching the gray skies and distant mountains disappear behind sheets of rain, he'd rest his chin atop your head and simply hold you.
Zuko is also the type to become unexpectedly affectionate during rainy weather. More lingering touches. More forehead kisses. More excuses to pull you closer whenever there's a chill in the air.
-–—•
Sokka:
Rainy days become storytelling days. Sokka would spend hours dramatically retelling old adventures, making himself sound ten times cooler than he actually was. Every time you call him out for exaggerating, he'd act deeply offended.
He'd try to cook something for the two of you. Whether it turns out edible is another question entirely.
If the weather gets particularly stormy, he'd unconsciously become more protective. An arm draped over your shoulders. Pulling you closer when thunder shakes the walls. Making sure you're warm without making a big deal out of it.
Sokka absolutely loves making you laugh on days like this. He'd spend half the afternoon doing ridiculous impressions, making up fake stories, or challenging you to increasingly stupid games just to hear your laugh again.
At some point, you'd catch him staring at you while rain taps softly against the windows. When you ask what he's looking at, he'll immediately get flustered and insist he wasn't looking at anything.
-–—•
Katara:
Katara would be the first one awake, listening to the rain tapping softly against the windows. Instead of getting out of bed immediately, she'd stay curled beneath the blankets, enjoying the rare excuse to slow down.
She'd gently brush hair from your face and smile to herself when you instinctively move closer to her warmth in your sleep.
Rainy days would bring out Katara's nurturing side even more than usual. Before long, she'd be making tea or a warm breakfast, insisting that everyone deserves comfort when the weather turns gloomy.
She'd tell you stories from the Southern Water Tribe - childhood memories, funny moments with Sokka, and little details she doesn't usually talk about. Rain always seems to make people reflective, and Katara would find herself sharing pieces of herself she keeps hidden.
Waterbending would become playful rather than practical. Tiny droplets from the rain would dance around the room at her command just to make you smile.
-–—•
Toph:
She pretends to complain when the weather ruins whatever plans you had. "Great. Now we're stuck inside with each other all day." Meanwhile, she's already sitting close enough that your shoulders are touching.
Rainy days are one of the few times Toph lets herself be still. No training. No proving herself. No showing off. Just the steady sound of rain against the roof and your presence beside her.
She'd never outright ask to cuddle. Instead, she'd gradually invade your personal space until you're practically wrapped around each other. If you point it out, she'll deny everything. "You're the one leaning on me."
If you braid her hair while you're sitting together, she acts annoyed the entire time. "What are you doing? Stop fussing." Yet the second you stop, she'll immediately ask why.
If you fall asleep beside her, she'll never admit how much she enjoys it. But she'll stay perfectly still for hours just so she doesn't wake you.
Toph secretly loves when you describe what the storm looks like outside. The gray clouds, the rain sliding down the glass, the flashes of lightning. She listens carefully, storing every detail away.
-–—•
A/N:
It’s my birthday! It’s raining very hard here, we’ve entered winter but I’m positive most of you guys are in summer. The rain made my birthday plans canceled so I came here to write these instead for you. <3 (I want a cake so bad waahhh)
