Everything listed in this post is my original work (including the banner above heh :) Please mind the tags on each fic!
Search #cabbage art tag to find my art- some, not all, is smutty so please be warned!
Inheritance- Read on Ao3 - Longer One-shot, Aang and Zuko spend a wine and laughter-soaked night reading through unsent letters from Sozin to Roku on the eve of Aang's 27th birthday festival. Written for Zukaang mini Bingo April 2024
Delicate- Read on Ao3-Short one-shot of Aang and Zuko's relationship facing a painful memory 10 years post-war, written for Flash Fic Friday
First Light- Read on Ao3- A cozy, smutty, sunrise imagery-drenched, and slightly angsty one-shot of Aang and Zuko 14 years post-war. Written for Avatar-Year-Of-The-Dragon prompt, "Have your way with me"
I Know- Read on Ao3- An extremely, let me repeat extremely lol, self-indulgent smutty one-shot of Aang and Zuko's established relationship.
Marigold, chapter 1 of Blue- Read on Ao3- The first chapter of an in-progress Zukaang fic, exploring their delicate love for one another through the sometimes harsh complexity of their lives as leaders.
Bewitched - Read on Ao3 - ongoing series- Originally ch. 1 was written for Flash Fic Friday, but turned into an ongoing fic about Aang and Zuko questioning their relationship in the face of Zuko being pressured to find a wife and produce an heir, 6 chapters up so far stay tuned!
Mercy and Lightning - ficlet inspired by this post - Zuko won't let Aang rest until he's mastered redirecting lightning
Title: it was your rule in the first place (and i would have done anything you asked)
Rating: Explicit!!
Word Count: 15.4k
Summary: First they fell in bed, then they fell in love, Zukaang best friends post war politicians version.
Some Tags: One shot, Friends to Lovers, aged-up characters, post-canon, future-fic, Aang is 24, Zuko is 28, Gaang Characters make an appearance
Hey zukaang buddies- it's been a while. How's everyone doing? Are we okay? Yeah, me neither. Anyway, here's something that flew out of my fingertips with so much energy it's like I was barely in the room. Please enjoy.
Blurb:
“Never?” Aang asks incredulously, quirking an eyebrow as he tilts his face over the back of the plush red chaise in Zuko’s chambers.
Fresh off a long spring of successful reparation renegotiations in Ba Sing Se, the dynamic political duo, the Avatar and the Firelord, treat themselves to a well-deserved week off. Even if it’s as hot as Agni’s asshole this summer in the Fire Nation, nothing could steal the jittery freedom they’ve been buzzing with after being cooped up in a packed city with virtually no time or space to themselves for months.
“Yeah, never.” Zuko laughs a little, his ankles crossed on his writing desk, while he lazily fans himself.
“Not even in Ba Sing Se? It’s been a while for you and there are so many hot men in that city.” Aang smirks. Then, swishing one hand boisterously through the air he adds, “And you’re the Firelord, one of the hottest, most eligible, powerful men in the world. Find me a man that would say no to you and I’ll give you my entire life’s savings.”
“You’re a monk, Aang. You don’t have any money,” Zuko retorts with a smile.
“You know what I mean!” He grins.
“So you think I’m hot, huh?” Zuko says with an air of conceit- amused and comfortable.
“Come on, Zuko.” Aang flips over onto his elbows to face him with a suspicious smirk. “Stop doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t already know that to get me to shower you with compliments. But, yes, you’re hot. Platonically, of course.”
“I am doing that again, aren’t I?” Zuko shakes his head, lips slightly pursed, “ Agni, it has been a while.” He laughs, hand over his eyes, full of self-deprecation. “So is that where you conveniently disappeared to when all those emergency evening sessions were convened? To call on all the hot men in Ba Sing Se?”
Aang snorts. “Not always.”
"Must be hard for people to say no to the elusive, all-powerful, all-mighty Avatar,” Zuko says playfully, wiggling his brows as he stares at the ceiling.
“Whatever!” Aang waves it away with a laugh, then narrows his eyes amusedly. “Why, are you jealous?”
“Aang.” He says flatly, somewhere between a clear joke and not a joke at all.
“No, come on. Not like that!” Aang says, a wide smile turning into a mockingly serious face. “Jealous that you don’t have as much freedom. Or time. To... explore, I guess?”
“You know I’m jealous of your freedom, asshole.” Zuko crumples up a scrap of parchment and throws it at him. “Rub it in, go ahead.” Zuko laughs as Aang winces at the paper smacking him on the temple.
Shoulders still shaking with amusement, Aang adds, “Well you’ve got some time now. Have you ever been curious?”
Zuko ponders for a moment before admitting, “A little,” with a shrug.
“Well, then, lock the door and come over here,” Aang says, bright and friendly as he always was.
“What?” Zuko half laughs half says, sitting up sharply, hands bracing the chair on either side of his thighs as he pins Aang with a questioning look.
“What, what?” he says, cocking his head to the side, “When was the last time you had a full week of no obligations? Never try, never know.” He says like it’s as simple as 2+2. “Oh come on, Zuko, you’re acting like we haven’t shared a bed a thousand times or seen each other naked a thousand more than that.”
Considering it all, Zuko’s knee bounces up and down, “Yeah, but don’t you think fucking is in a different category?”
Aang shrugs, “I was raised a little differently when it comes to that. To me, it can be but it doesn’t necessarily have to be. If it is for you, it’s no big deal. No pressure.” He waves a hand rolling onto his back and throwing his hands behind his head.
Eyes dancing over Aang watchfully, Zuko chews his bottom lip and thinks. He has been curious, and Aang is right: he doesn’t have as much freedom or time, every detail of his life is planned out for him. When would he find time to go discover if he likes fucking men or not? And with Aang... Aang is his best friend, of course. They do everything together. They’ve done everything together- their professional lives, their personal lives, the lines are so blurred they are nearly nonexistent. They even usually took each other as plus ones to weddings and other official events. Even when they were still dating Katara and Mai. Neither of them ever minded, because it just made sense. They made sense. They always had. They had each other's backs as diplomats, they kept each other's secrets, and they shared nearly everything. After 8 years of that- what's a little fooling around really going to change?
Plus, Zuko could admit, objectively, Aang was hot. Not the scrawny kid he met years ago, Zuko amicably admired how rigidly muscular and surprisingly tall Aang had become as an adult. He watched fondly as Aang had grown up alongside him into a thoughtful, charming, and whip-smart leader. He understood the appeal. And on top of that, Aang was experienced. And, as Aang’s best friend, Zuko knew, with a startling amount of detail, just how experienced he was. He knew Aang would be gentle with him, and like everything else they did together- he knew he’d at least enjoy himself.
Bouncing knee coming to a halt, Zuko says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Aang face flashes brightly before he furrows his brow and says, “Wait, are you sure?”
Standing, shoulders shaking with the strange comedy of it as he pads to the door, Zuko turns the lock then turns around and says, “Yes, I’m sure. Now come over here and fuck me before I change my mind.”
Aang quirks an eyebrow over pink-tinged cheeks and says low and slow, “Yes, sir.” As he walks toward the bed, he shirks his shoulder to let his sash slump off, bare chest already flushed a soft pink with the summer heat. “Although, for your first time, I wouldn’t suggest bottoming. Learned that the hard way.” He says with a wince before meeting Zuko at the edge of the bed, hands instinctively on his waist in a way that feels somewhere right between very weird and very comfortable. With their faces just a breath away from one another, Aang says, “You should probably fuck me this time.”
“You’re planning on another time?” Zuko jests before throwing his arms over Aang’s shoulders.
“I don’t know, depends on how good it is.” Aang retorts.
Zuko rolls his eyes, then adds, “Okay, one rule.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t kiss me on the mouth,” Zuko says easily, almost laughing because fuck if this whole thing wasn’t hysterical. “I feel like that’s self-explanatory.”
“Works for me,” he confirms like it’s any ordinary thing- like he’s ordering dumplings from a stall in the city. “Any other rules?”
He pulls Aang close, bodies now brushing, and says, “Keep your expectations low?”
"Unfortunately my expectations are already completely unattainable,” Aang teases, untying one knot after the next of Zuko’s tunic as he goes, “I’m expecting demigod Agni-incarnate levels of fucking. I’m expecting to not know up from down and left from right after you rearrange my insides with your Firelord-ly, rumored-to-be-prodigiously-large dick. I’m expecting that when this is over, I won’t remember my own name.”
Rolling his eyes with a scoff, Zuko slides one hand into the place where the fabric of Aang’s trousers rests against the skin of his waist. He tugs hard, crashing Aang’s hips to his. “Will you shut up already?” Zuko says defiantly as he shoves a hand beneath Aang’s waistband.
Photo credit: Thorod, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Sun Pillar
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: G
Word count: 1,729
Warnings: Major character death
Summary: In the sunset of the South Pole, Katara revives a tradition for one last time.
Written for Kataang Week 2024, Day 1: Revival of Traditions
Read on AO3
————–
The sun hangs low in the winter sky as Katara sets out in her umiak.
Her joints grind in protest as she pushes the canoe over the shore. But soon the gravelly resistance as the boat drags over the ice gives way to the buoyant release of the South Pole waters. The current snags the hide-covered hull, and Katara slips into the canoe before the sea can snatch it away. Her agility comes not from her failing strength, but from a childhood of launching her family’s umiak alongside her brother under the crystalline clouds of the arctic sky. It is a memory written deep in her bones.
She braces her hands on the gunwale where the leather has been worn into a shiny, shallow groove. With a grunt, she heaves her body onto the slat of wood that spans the back of the canoe. The world tilts as the boat teeters, then rights itself. Only with waterbending could a ninety-two-year-old woman hope to set sail in an umiak, all alone, without capsizing to a frigid death.
Katara settles onto the bench. Her muscles quiver from the uncharacteristic exertion, and her breath fogs the air with every puff. But she cannot rest for long, for the polar waters swirl with jagged chunks of sea ice and relentless currents.
She rocks ponderously onto her feet and holds her arms aloft. The icy debris parts before her, and the umiak’s tapered bow cuts a wedge in the water. It would have been easier to take one of the small motorboats. But a motor means noise, and noise means curious onlookers.
Slipping away silently in an umiak is better for where she is going.
I just realized that it wouldn't make sense posting this sketch until Monday when I was going through my thoughts on this sketch, ahahahahha (；^∀^). Especially when I quickly sketched this yesterday upon a recommended reference from Pinterest, and I got inspired to draw Zukaang with that pose ✨️.
Fun fact about this drawing: I was planning to have this post-cannonish Fire Lord Zuko and, of course, aged-up!Aang... but!! But!! Buuuut!! I was suddenly intimidated drawing Zuko's Fire Lord clothes from this perspective (；∀； )...
( ´-｀)
I JUST DONT FEEL CONFIDENT IN PULLING IT OFF, OK?!?!?!?! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡
In either case!! (〝⌒∇⌒〝) I'm quite happy how this sketch turned out! Now let's pray and hope I don't f*ck this up once I start linearting this sketch, hahahahaha (;＞_＜;).
Anyways, (I really do love using this word a lot huh (。-∀-)), I hope you like another Zukaang fanart from me \ (⌒‐⌒) /✨️♥️. I'm having a fun time with them while getting back into drawing again and getting back my art style/how to draw like I used to (；^∀^) hah.
Good luck to me 😅✨️😖!! And may you all have a good, blessed day everyone! 😇😌❤️🔥
Happy Flash Fic Friday ❤️ @flashfictionfridayofficial
Title: two stars (midnight blue)
Fandom: ATLA (pairing Aang/Zuko)
Word Count: 995
Rating: Somewhere between Gen-Teen+
Tags: Post-canon, future fic, friendship, romance, (Aang is 18, Zuko is 22)
s/o out to The Japan Society for providing some history for the legend of the Tanabata and the Star Festival that makes an appearance in this fic
~
As the moon lures salt waves further from the shore, each residual lap of surf swells gently against their feet. The sun has long set, but the warmth of the Ember Island summer still radiates from the sand that cradles their shoulders.
Back up at the house, their friends prepare a first-night feast of elephant koi and cabbage noodles. The laughter and commotion and reconnecting of their first day at the beach subside with the evening tide, leaving- mysteriously yet predictably- Aang and Zuko alone together.
Backs to warm, wet earth and bare chests facing the starry expanse, something bizarre, but familiar passes between them in traded stolen glances in the dim moonlight.
Neither of them speaks for a while, but that’s alright. As two men who spend their lives performing in the public eye, restorative silence is a rare treat they eagerly indulge in together.
“Do you see those two stars?” Zuko breaks the stillness, pointing up into the expanse of blue midnight.
“Which two?” Aang asks, nudging a bit closer to Zuko’s shoulder.
“Those two, the ones that are almost overlapping,” Zuko closes the last few inches between them, shoulders now pressed, cheeks close enough to feel their radiating heat. He points again, one eye closed, “One is slightly bluish around the edge, the other more yellow.”
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Aang fights his focus to stay on the sky. “Okay, yeah, I see them.”
Zuko drops his hand to his chest, tight with a sting almost as familiar as the rhythm of his own heart. From the stillness of the forest in Pohuai six years ago to Ember Island’s shore and every step they’ve taken in between—some mad yearning has followed them both. Try as they may, neither of them has found a way to shake the ghost of this ever-present dull ache, this unanswered question.
Perhaps, neither of them wanted to.
The rush of tumbling pebbles around their ankles snaps Zuko back. He continues, “When I was really little, our mom once took Azula and me to the Tanabata festival to celebrate the return of these two stars to one another.”
“Return?"
“It only happens once a year. The old story goes that they’re lovers, Orihime and Hikoboshi. They fell in love almost instantly. But, they were forbidden from one another. And once, during the summer every year, they are allowed to reunite. Only for one night.“
“That’s beautiful. And... tragic,” Aang turns on his side to face Zuko, cheek on his fist and elbow digging into the warm sand, “Why couldn’t they be together?”
“Honestly, it’s been so long that that story has been in my head,” Zuko angles his face to Aang, their eyes meeting in the strange salty mist of the evening, “I can’t really remember why it was forbidden in the first place.”
For a few moments of gold searching grey, there is nothing but the rise and fall of surf and stilted breath.
Aang swallows, needing to find something to do with his hands and some reason to look away, he traces lines into the sand between them. “So, they just live their lives, waiting? For something that they only get to have in tiny glimpses?”
“I guess so.” Zuko says, watching Aang’s every nervous movement.
“Well, what happens? Do they ever try to leave it all behind, just run far and fast and find a way to be together?” In the way Aang’s grey eyes glimmer when he looks at Zuko again, they seem to catch every constellation, every star-crossed love story smattering the cosmos.
“Open to interpretation, I think.” Zuko swallows, holding Aang’s gaze with a gentleness that says more than it should. He wonders if Aang can sense the jump in his pulse through the sand.
He can.
Aang knows this dance. It’s a kindness, an agreement they’ve entreated upon many times before. In moments that feel too precarious for their friendship to hold, they invent some code, some shared shadow to hide themselves under to escape the oppressive light of the truth behind their words.
But here, in the dark, with ancient forbidden love illuminating the night sky, something reckless curls around them like the sea water swelling around their ankles.
Aang inhales uneasily, testing the feel of his impending breach in his throat. After another breath, it breaks loose, “How would you want it to end, then? If you could rewrite the story?” His whisper so raw and honest he can barely hear it.
Zuko blinks in incredulous silence. Aang waits.
“Aang.” Zuko pleads, breathy with warning.
Drawing his brow together, Aang reaches to ghost the lines of Zuko’s neck.
Zuko stiffens, breath quickening under Aang’s fingertips.
Under his skin, Aang can feel blood pounding with a speed that sends a strange warmth skittering over his skin.
Zuko swallows, throat brittle, “Don’t you already know what I would say?” he barely whispers.
“Maybe I don't,” Aang murmurs, hand fitting against Zuko’s cheek, fingers dancing at the edge of his scar, “Maybe a glimpse here and there is enough. Maybe you think love stories are better that way.”
Before he can register it, Zuko is shaking his head no and his damp palm is flush against the blue arrow of Aang’s hand.
“No?” Aang says, a laugh shaped breath passes through him, “That’s good. That would make for a terrible story.”
They look at one another, mirth and helplessness and hunger thrashing in the thick ocean air between them. Zuko’s eyes find Aang’s lips in the moonlight and reflexively, after all this time, Zuko still tries to bite back the surging feeling that he wants to move. Aang’s lips part gently and the split second of motion is enough to rattle Zuko’s resolve loose from its foundation.
So, he moves. Finally. Aang does, too. They move in soft mouths and rushing exhales and wandering hands. And as they do—far away in the heavens above, two star-crossed lovers find their way to one another in the pure inevitability of long-awaited collide.
some of these were conzepts i drew for @ranilla-bean fic the iconoclast. others are just me doodeling zuko in SEA inspired clothing (khemer or siam style/ so cambodia or thailand)
Another Zuko and Aang parallel that I don’t hear enough people talking about is the season 2 finale. Both of them are at a crossroads of destiny, both of them are choosing between what they believe to be “their destiny” or what they’re “supposed to do” and choosing the people they love, Iroh and Katara. The people who connect them to the parts of themselves that they want to be rather than who the world is telling them to be. They both chose their “destiny,” and leave the person they love behind. But I think what’s more important is that at the end of it all, they find their way back to that person and themselves simultaneously. They do this by choosing what they want, by choosing love. Zuko abandons the life he always wanted in the fire nation and finds forgiveness in his uncle, and Aang holds on tight to the values of his people who were taken from him, and finds peace and love with Katara. And they both seal this with tears in their eyes, and a tight embrace.
