hotpants are an illusion and so is death This blog is a shrine to the good ship Jetko (and yeah also avatar i guess) [previously zukoshotpants] [no 1. Jet stan]
“I don’t think you want someone like me in your group,” Lee says, stepping back, and Jet steps forward quick and grabs his wrist.
“Believe me, you don’t know what I want,” he tells him, his eyes intent on Lee’s. On Lee’s gold eyes. “I get it, man. Dirty little secret. You think you’re the only one who’s got it? Me, I got off lucky--I take after my mom.”
Lee blinks, and blinks again, and Jet watches him not understand and not understand and not--
“You’re Fi--?!” he starts to choke, eyes flaring wide in shock, and Jet lunges to clap a hand over his mouth and yanks him into the shadow of the nearest pillar.
“I’m Earth Kingdom,” he says, very quietly. “Like my mom, and my dad. Not like my father. Not like your father.”
I noticed your response to the ask about Float, and if you want it (or know anyone who does), I have a copy. Just thought I'd mention it. And actually while I'm sending the message anyway, might as well tell you I really like your fic, only got a tumblr recently and it's hard to message/comment here.
ohh, do you, that's super great!!!! i'll publish this ask for anyone who is interested in that, then! i'm sure sharing it privately would be okay....i just don't want it to somehow end up back on the internet without credit/author permission D:
and thank you, that's very sweet of you to say n_n
ahhhhh seriously?! float was my first (and favorite) jetko fic. i really hope someone managed to save it...
i think there are some people who did manage to save it, but i think they're probably unsure of sharing it without the author's permission, which is totally understandable. all we can do is sit tight and hope somehow it manages to find it's way back to us :(
Poison in your mouth
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Pairing: Jet/Zuko
27: rough, biting, scratch
a/n: MY BOYS….it’s been so long but i couldn’t get away with not including them in this challenge at least once
Jet always goes on and on about how much he hates fire.
Jet insists that he hates fire, but there’s so much heat burning in his eyes that it might as well just be just that—it might as well just be fire and flame that he’s spitting at him with his eyebrows pressed and his teeth grinding and ugly, ugly words ripping themselves out of his throat. His voice breaks, several times, and Zuko just stands there, staring back at him.
He’s fire, Jet is, and it’s so obvious to Zuko that he is—with every flash of his eyes it’s obvious—Zuko could tell a long time ago, that Jet was fire, when the sun hit his brown eyes and there was just a flash of gold in them, Zuko could tell, when he got so incensed about the stupidest things, that was fire; when Jet was quick and reactive and cunning, that was fire, too.
So i just discovered this - a Jetko image i’ve never seen before! Thought i’d share it on Tumblr in case anyone else hasn’t seen it.
(If anyone knows artist/source please tell me and i shall credit!)
I got here from your fanfic acct, what's up with the penance series?
i think you might have me confused with another fic writer! ffnet user delectate (formerly misora? i think?) wrote the penance series, and i don't know what's up with it
Your hand should have been holding mine
Pairing: Jet/Zuko, one sided Katara/Zuko
Rating: T
A/N: because jetko endgame is the best endgame
She should have known a long time ago.
Rationally, that’s how she sees it now—based on the way Zuko had always acted around her, based on the way he only ever held her eyes for seconds and the way he hesitated to touch her—she should have known. But he did look at her once in a while, and he did touch her, sometimes—her arm, maybe her shoulder, to pull her back from something or to give her quiet, reserved advice. But that was it. That was all he ever did for her.
It was easy; his eyes were quiet but expressive, she thought, and since they looked at her, sometimes, she figured that it must have been because he loved her. And it was easy to fall for him, almost too easy—his hair looked soft and his smile was nice (forced, usually, but nice anyway), and his arms were strong. Nice. He was very nice looking, Zuko. She’d pictured the two of them together more times than she could really count, pictured them walking down flowered paths hand in hand, laughing and smiling and being in love. It was the most idealized idea of love she’d ever had, but she clung to it, because Zuko looked beautiful when he held her eyes for just that one second he always did.
There was Jet too, of course.
In her most secret fantasies, she pictured Zuko and Jet fighting each other over her. They both seemed the type; they were hotheaded and angry and handsome, both of them. Usually, it was Zuko who won, but sometimes she liked to picture Jet winning too, holding out his hand to her and smiling with all of his teeth and his lips curled back, like she remembered him always doing.
But mostly, she just pictured Zuko.
When she’d been busy thinking about Zuko kissing her, Zuko was in the courtyard, training with Jet. It was good for them to work together, Zuko had said, because Zuko had formal training that Jet had never had, and Jet had sharp instincts that Zuko didn’t have. “We’re good for each other. In that sense,” Zuko had told her in short, halting, awkward sentences. She didn’t think anything of it. But once in a while, she would go and watch them, and pretend they were sparring for her hand.
She usually didn’t see the way their eyes met and held, and the way that Zuko’s hands stayed on Jet’s dark skin far longer than they ever stayed on hers.
So really, thinking back and thinking about all of that now, she really should have realized it long before this.
Katara stands there in her best clothes, the corners of her mouth pressed up into the smallest of smiles (forced, this time). Sokka is next to her, and Aang on her other side. It’s hot, and the Fire Nation court is beautiful. There’s a hard, bitter feeing curling in her chest.
It’s Zuko and Jet. Zuko is in his sweeping, deep red robes and Jet’s in clean, pressed Earth Kingdom robes that look far too elegant for him. His hair is brushed, and he barely even looks like the Jet that Katara knows—but he’s wearing that smile, the one with all the teeth, something wicked and devious glinting in his eyes. She knows it. She knows he’s wicked, standing there with Zuko like he is.
Katara watches them, and tries to remember everything she missed, tries to pull all the pieces that she’d turned a blind eye too, back when they were still fighting in a war and back when she thought Zuko loved her. Zuko and Jet training, Jet always sitting next to him, always keeping in step—Zuko hardly ever looking away from him, Zuko frowning and picking leaves out of his hair, touching the bandages on his fingers and asking him if he was alright.
They were in love, Zuko in Jet.
They’d been in love for such a long time.
Katara swallows and watches Jet put his hand in Zuko’s.
It’s a big ceremony—of course, the Fire Lord getting married is always a big deal, and getting married to someone with absolutely no noble blood is so incredibly uncommon, so almost everyone in the Fire Nation has turned up to see how this wedding will turn out. It’s beautiful. It’s bitter. It feels both sweet and terrible, to her.
She’s not listening to the ceremony, the words feel like a dull drone in her ears, but the drone stops and Zuko pulls Jet closer and then they kiss. In front of everyone. Jet puts his hands on Zuko’s beautiful, carved face, and the tips of his dark fingers brush the rough edges of his scar and Zuko doesn’t move his hand away.
It’s such a quiet, intimate kiss that Katara almost feels like she has to look away, to give them space. She feels sad, and she doesn’t know if that’s because she wants Zuko or what Zuko has—if it was really ever Zuko, or just what Zuko represented.
Katara supposes it doesn’t really matter, now. Zuko is Jet’s, and Jet is Zuko’s, and they will never fight each other over her.
2087
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
pixelskylines
izzy806
