Hello! I know I said I wouldn’t probably be posting multi chapter works on here, but I’ve had this idea in mind for a while now, and I am finally writing it down so it’ll stop invading my every waking thought. I saw the original concept of Dream being immortal in a YouTube comment on an animation, but I cannot remember their username or the video. I really like the idea of Dream being immortal, and I decided to put my own spin on it and I have ended up with this. I’m super excited about it because I genuinely love this idea and I’m finding myself entertained reading it back to myself when editing so I hope you guys like it.
Trigger Warnings/Content Warnings: Torture, murder, anxiety, depictions of violence, gore. I’ll try to refrain from anything extremely bloody and graphic because it makes me uncomfy to write it, but I’ll try and make sure to remember the appropriate trigger warnings/content warnings at the top of every chapter.
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, mean sokka (no hate for him please, i am just a bitch hahah), little arguing (lowkey fight), alcohol consumption, swearing, 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 one
a/n: i did not expect the response i got for the first chapter. i am genuinely glad that you all enjoyed it, for which i would also suggest you to please read the a/n at the end!
p.s: do not ask me the layout of katara's house. just know that it's big and like the one we see in the movie, except i have made up everything inside for convenience.
Morning came quickly, and with it, Fire Lord Zuko.
Sokka, Katara, and Toph had come to greet him at the harbor, and while they did think to call Aang, knowing him to be an early riser, they just guessed he would be occupied with his wife.
Zuko walked alongside them, his presence drawing the occasional glance, though far less than it might have elsewhere. Here, in the Republic City, titles blended more easily into the crowd, and even a Fire Lord could pass through without bringing everything to a halt.
His attention remained forward, though it shifted slightly at the way the others had been speaking since he arrived; their awkwardness was blatant.
And when he had asked where Aang was, it was Sokka who finally said it outright, unable to hold it in any longer.
"He's married."
Zuko slowed half a step, eyes widening at the revelation. He was expecting an 'Oh, he slept in!' or 'He's busy with Avatar stuff, y'know?', but this was the most unlikely answer to the question he had asked.
"What?" he repeated, the surprise clear.
"Yup. He came back yesterday with a suspicious-looking lady, and then he introduced her as his wife!"
Sokka spoke animatedly, which really didn't help his case while explaining something that was already hard to believe.
"Oh. Good for him."
Zuko's reaction landed poorly. Sokka turned toward him immediately, incredulity written plainly across his face.
"Good? How is that your takeaway from this?"
Zuko frowned slightly, not in a defensive manner, but genuinely confused by the response.
"He's married," he said, as though that alone should explain it. "What's not to be happy about?"
Sokka stared at him for a second longer before his face shifted. Without saying anything, he tilted his head just enough, his gaze flicking briefly toward Katara.
Zuko understood, sparing a small glance at the Waterbender. He did not comment on it so as to not acknowledge the implication aloud.
So he spoke again, not entirely changing the topic but not dwelling on the previous conversation.
"What is she like?" he asked.
Toph gave a small shrug, her posture loose, though her answer came like she had it ready. "Couldn't tell you much. She barely spoke."
"She was all gloomy." Sokka added.
"That's not true Sokka, she was just tired." Katara said, and the fact that she spoke at all drew their attention immediately.
"She's..." Katara paused for a second, then continued, "she's beautiful."
Everyone visibly faltered in their steps, making Katara let out an exasperated sigh.
"Can you guys please stop? I'm fine, alright?" she said, a quiet firmness entering her voice as she looked at them.
"Can you stop looking at me like that? It's like you're walking around eggshells whenever you talk about Aang."
No one responded. Frankly, they didn't know what to say.
"There's nothing wrong," she continued, voice softer now. "He's happy. And nothing makes me happier than that."
Zuko drew a quiet breath, feeling the air grow awkward by the second, so he spoke—
"Where is his wife from—"
He couldn't finish.
Sokka's attention snapped elsewhere mid-step, his hand lifting abruptly as he pointed across the street, his voice cutting through Zuko's question.
"Look! There's Aang...woah."
All of them (except Toph) followed his line of sight, and there, moving through the street were you and Aang.
You walked beside him, your arm encircled around one of his. Aang greeted those around him with the same open warmth he always had, children waving as he passed, some giving a gentle bow.
But it was not Aang that had held their attention.
It was you.
The difference from the day before was unmistakable.
Where you had once appeared in plain robes, you now stood adorned in the finest of fabrics, silks that caught the light in all their glory, draped carefully over your form.
Delicate jewelry framed you, resting at your neck, your ears, your wrists, your hands, even woven into your hair, each placed with grace as though they were a part of you.
It was a stark contrast. Not only to what you had worn the day before, but to him.
Aang, in his simple robes, untouched by ornaments except for his prayer beads and the Air Nomads symbol he wore proudly, stood beside you without any attempt to match you in your regal ensemble.
It felt...unexpected.
The distance between all of you closed naturally, meeting the group halfway.
You had inclined your head slightly, offering a small bow in greeting, as Aang excitedly greeted his friends.
He left your side momentarily, moving to give Zuko a hug after not having seen him for over a year now.
Once Aang returned to your side, you finally spoke, and it felt as though they were hearing your voice for the first time.
"It is an honor to be in the presence of the Fire Lord," you said, your tone refined. "I have heard of your tales and your journey from my husband. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
Your gaze rested on Zuko trying not to linger on the scar across his face. Simultaneously, Zuko took in every inch of you with a quick skim.
There was a confidence in the way you held yourself, in the way you walked, even in the way you spoke. The structure of your speech, the practiced tone, the accustomed comfort of status.
It was unmistakable, and Zuko took note of it easily.
You carried the weight of upbringing, much like himself. You carried royalty.
He inclined his head slightly in return, his response just as respectful.
"The honor is mine," he said.
Your attention shifted then, moving to the others.
"It is good to see you all again," you continued, offering a small smile that did not overreach.
"I apologize if my company yesterday was lacking. I had been traveling for days without pause, and though I would have preferred to settle into our home sooner, I understood that Aang wished to make up for lost time."
At that, you glanced back at Aang, and he met your look with a sheepish grin, one hand lifting to the back of his head in a gesture far too familiar to everyone there.
"Sorry," he said lightly. "I was just really excited."
His hand dropped soon after, settling over yours where it rested against his arm. You only shook your head faintly, your smile remaining.
"There is no need to apologize." Then your gaze shifted again.
"You are Katara, correct?" you spoke, turning to the Water Tribe girl.
The moment you spoke her name, you felt Aang flinch against you, your eyes snapping to your connected hands before returning to Katara.
"...Yes?" Katara answered with a question hidden beneath it.
"The food you prepared yesterday was lovely," you said. "I am grateful for the effort you put into hosting us on such short notice."
Katara blinked once, caught off guard by the sincerity of it.
"Oh...that..." she said, her words settling unevenly before she steadied them. "It was my pleasure."
You nodded slightly in acknowledgment before continuing.
"I understand from Aang that we are to gather at your home again this evening."
"Yes," Katara replied, more certain with her voice now. "I'll have everything ready by eight."
"I see," you said. "Aang and I shall arrive earlier to assist you."
Katara's response came quickly, almost like a reflex. "Oh, there's no need for that—"
"I insist," you said gently, and although you had just met, the finality in your words left little room for refusal.
"We will be there at six. Won't we, Aang?"
There was the smallest pause before Aang glanced at you, then back at the others, his smile returning easily.
"Yeah, Katara, we want to help."
"We'll be there too," Sokka added quickly, his words coming out faster than intended. He wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but something about your presence at Katara's home unsettled him.
"I will join as well," Zuko said, his voice steady, his gaze returning to you with quiet interest.
Toph let out a small huff. "I'd offer, but—"
"You're coming anyway," Sokka cut in immediately.
A quiet laugh passed between them, light enough to ease the moment.
Aang shifted, his attention returning to you as he remembered his agenda for the day.
"I promised to show her around," he stated, the grin stretching across his face in excitement.
"I'll see you guys at noon!" he said, before guiding you forward once more, his hand engulfing yours as he pulled you along with him.
By the time the sun had reached its peak, the earlier bustle smoothed beneath the midday heat. As promised, Aang had left to meet his friends. He had left you at home not long before, trusting you to settle in at your own pace.
He found Appa waiting, ever patient, as he climbed onto his back, Momo already darting up to join him, settling on his shoulder. The flight was short, and it did not take long before the city gave way to an open stretch of land just beyond the outskirts of the city, leading uphill to a stumped cliff.
His friends were already there, waiting for him. Aang was excited to spend some time with them. He had sensed your presence make them feel awkward around him, so he thought this might come as a good opportunity to ease their friends into his new marital life.
Sokka stood close to the edge, his posture restless even as he was still, while Katara remained close by, her attention shifting at the sound of Appa's descent. Toph sat relaxed, floating a few rocks in the palm of her hand, and beside them stood Zuko, his presence quieter than the group.
Appa landed and the wind settled around them as Aang stepped down, and Momo wasted no time in leaping off after him to greet the others.
His gaze moved across them, a small smile forming. It felt nice to have the group back together. And he hoped for you to gently be included in the future.
His friends on the other hand, had a different plan They trusted him. That much had never been in question. But even their trust was wavering as curiosity came knocking down those carefully built walls.
The scheme had been made before he arrived. It was simple. Get information out of Aang. Simple.
And perhaps if they had asked straightforwardly, Aang wouldn't have denied them.
But Sokka just had to ruin it all by starting off the conversation with—
"You know, Aang, you really shouldn't let your wife walk around dressed like that. Isn't she supposed to wear your monk robes now? What even was that?"
He let out a short laugh, the sound landing unevenly against the quiet of the hill.
Aang's expression shifted, his easy grin dropping so dramatically, they were sure the entire city felt the pressure in the air drop.
Beside Sokka, Toph let out a sharp exhale, her hand coming up to her face in immediate exasperation.
Katara did not hesitate, a quick motion of her hand sending a splash of water directly into Sokka's face with enough force to deliver a slap.
"Hey—!" Sokka sputtered, wiping at his face as he turned toward her, ready to argue, but Aang's voice came sooner than his.
"What are you trying to say, Sokka?"
Aang looked as though he would lash out, but he didn't. His voice wasn't loud, and it didn't need to be to feel the growing anger beneath it.
The tension followed, unsettling them all. For a brief moment no one spoke, because this had been uncalled for. None of them wanted their 'reunion' to start on a bad note, much less end on it.
So Zuko gives an attempt to salvage it in the easiest way he could think of. Throw Sokka under the bus.
"That was very rude, Sokka," he said. His gaze moved briefly toward Sokka before returning forward. "Why should Aang have a say in what his wife chooses to wear?"
There was a pause before he continued, his voice lowering to soften the weight of what he was going to say.
"Besides..." he added, the word carrying a hesitation he did not fully understand, "I think she looked rather...beautiful."
The last word came slower than the rest, and though his expression remained composed, something in him had bloomed.
Katara had been correct in describing you.
Zuko's dilemma went unnoticed by everyone else, slipping beneath the surface without acknowledgment.
"Yeah, whatever," Sokka says, brushing off Zuko's scolding with an edge in his voice.
"I'm just saying, Aang, if people see the your wife walking around dressed like that, they're going to start talking. You're the Avatar for Spirit's sake! No one's even heard of her before, and suddenly she shows up with you looking like that? People are going to assume things."
He didn't stop there.
"They might think she just married you to—"
"I beg of you to stop talking!" Toph cut in loudly, her tone sharp not only from annoyance but also concern
She could feel it, the subtle rise of rage encircling the area where Aang was sitting. Sokka threw his hands up slightly, frustration quick to follow.
"Hey, I don't mean it in a bad way! I want what's best for him."
The words did not land the way he had intended them to.
Somewhere in Aang's mind, he knew that Sokka would be a challenge. He knew Sokka would not be accepting to your presence, always having been the sensible one in the team. But the horrible implications he made about you were too much.
Yes, he had expected for Sokka to be unwelcoming, but he didn't think he would stoop so low to imply something so vile.
Aang moved before he realized, words spewing from his mouth as he still fought to hold back his anger.
"My wife," he said, the words coming out sharp, an unfamiliar tone that did not belong in their usual conversations, "left her home for me."
He rose to his feet as he spoke, the motion slow as his presence shifted with it.
"She chose to come with me to a city she doesn't know, to be around people she's never met, and the only things she has from her home are what she brought with her."
Sokka unconsciously took a step back, and even though Aang was further away the distance was evidently closing.
"If she wants to wear them, she will," Aang continued, "And if she wants more, then I will give them to her."
He took another step forward.
"That's her choice," he said. "Hers. Not mine. And definitely not yours, Sokka."
The space between them closed completely, and Sokka watched the boy he once towered over meet him eye to eye, where he could see that he had definitely struck a huge nerve.
Toph was on her feet, stepping close, her hand lifting slightly just in case.
"Whoa, easy, Twinkle Toes," she said, her tone lighter than the tension warranted. "Sokka's just being Sokka. Don't let it get to you."
"Yes, Aang, he's talking nonsense," Katara added quickly as she shot her brother a sharp look.
Zuko remained where he was, silent.
"It didn't sound like nonsense to me," Aang said, and in a single motion that came as quick as lightning, his hand caught the front of Sokka's collar, gripping it firmly to pull him slightly off balance.
"Do we have a problem, Sokka?"
The man in question gritted his teeth, his brain telling him to end the fight and apologize, but instead he chose to bite back just as fiercely.
"Yeah," Sokka shot back, the restraint he had been holding slipping away. "I do have a fucking problem."
Aang’s face twisted more, but he let the older man continue, understanding this wasn’t something as shallow as about what you wore.
"You disappear without a word for months, and then you come back married?" His voice rose and the frustration in it no longer contained.
"We're your friends, Aang! We're supposed to be your closest friends. Don't you think that's something you should've mentioned?"
Aang's jaw tightened, his grip still firm. He heard what Sokka was saying, and as much as he understood the weight behind it, Sokka's previous words, the way you had been spoken about, refused to settle.
Neither of them moved. But then Katara stepped in, her hand pushing against Aang's arm.
"Aang, let him go."
Toph was already there beside her, offering her silent support.
He let go.
Sokka stumbled back half a step, adjusting his shirt with a quick, irritated motion, watching as Aang spoke.
"It just... happened," Aang said, his voice quieter now, though the edge remained beneath it. "I don't always have the time to send out a letter for every little thing."
"Every little thing?" Sokka repeated, disbelief cutting through the words. "You got married. How is that something little?"
"Stop it, Sokka," Katara said, but he didn't stop.
"No," Sokka said, shaking his head, the frustration still too close to the surface to be dismissed.
"I will be honest, Aang. I do not like your wife."
The words landed harder than anything else he had said before.
"I know you're hiding something," he continued, his voice lower now. "And you can't even be honest about it with your own friends."
Something in Aang snapped.
"Maybe," he said, "you should realize for once that you don't need to know everything!"
Sokka held his gaze for only a second longer before he let out a frustrated breath, the anger in him growing.
"Forget it." he muttered, turning away abruptly.
He didn't look back.
"Fuck this. I'm done."
He started walking down the slope without waiting for a response, his steps quick as he stopped for no one.
Katara hesitated only briefly, glancing back at Aang momentarily, before following Sokka, her hand catching Toph's arm and pulling her along with her despite the protests that came from it.
"Hey! I can walk on my own—"
And within moments, they were gone, leaving Aang and the Fire Lord behind.
The wind moved across the hill, filling the silence as it brushed through the grass.
Appa approached first, lowering his head to nudge against Aang in an attempt to cheer him up. Momo followed him, settling near him with a soft chirp before climbing closer, pressing himself to his side.
Aang did not move them away. He let himself settle onto the grass instead, the tension still present in his posture. His gaze remained fixed somewhere else, thoughts going haywire, wondering how quickly it all went downhill.
Beside him, Zuko lowered himself to sit as well. He did not press, did not interrupt, allowing Aang to process the situation at his own pace.
Time passed in silence for a while, then, eventually, Zuko spoke.
"I do not mean to pry," he began, his tone slightly tentative. "but is your wife of royal birth?"
The question was not meant to be intrusive, but it felt as though it was, so Aang did not answer immediately.
For a moment, there was only the wind again, moving through the space between them.
Then—
"Noble," he said.
Zuko nodded his head slightly, accepting the answer for what it was, though his thoughts did not stop there.
"From where?" he asked after a moment.
Aang's gaze did not shift.
"A smaller nation close to the Earth Kingdom."
The explanation ended there and Zuko didn't ask anything more.
He understood restraint well enough to recognize it in others, and whatever was unsaid, he let it remain that way. Aang wouldn't go to such lengths if it wasn't important.
"I hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive Sokka." Zuko said after a moment.
Aang's expression did not change, though is posture softened at the though of his oldest friend.
"Only if he apologizes," he replied.
"Well...yes. Of course." Zuko assured.
Evening settled in fully by the time they gathered again, the sky dimming into a softer hue that filtered through the open windows of Katara's home.
Everyone had arrived at six, just as promised.
All except Sokka.
You stood beside Aang and Zuko in the kitchen, your hands occupied with small tasks Katara had asked each of you to do, easily settling into the mood for preparation. Aang moved beside you, while Zuko did his best to assist.
In the living section of the room, Toph had claimed the couch entirely, stretched out without any concern.
The conversations moved easy enough. You weren't much involved in the talking part, and you hadn't notice the underlying conflict between the group.
By the time you glanced up again, the light outside had shifted further, and the absence of a certain someone was all too blaring.
"Will Sokka be joining us at eight after all?" you asked, your tone unassuming, though the question itself stilled the room.
The discussions through the room came to a halt, taking you off guard by the sudden silence.
Aang answered before anyone else could.
"Do not worry about Sokka," he said too quickly, and though the edge in his voice was subtle, it was enough to make you take note that something was wrong.
You turned slightly toward him, your hand lifting instinctively to rest against his arm.
"Is everything alright?"
"Mhm." He gave an unsure hum.
"What he means is, Sokka is—"
Katara began, but she did not finish.
The door opened.
"I'm here."
Sokka stepped in without ceremony, the spare key tossed carelessly onto the counter with a small clatter that cut through the air.
"Sorry I'm late," he added, already moving across the room, dropping himself onto the couch beside Toph, who barely shifted at his presence.
"I'm glad you could you make it, Sokka." You greeted politely, but got no response.
"Would you like to help us out?" You prodded yet again, only to be met with a—
"In a minute. I just got here."
His words shut you up as you frowned at his behavior. He was very unlike the Sokka Aang had once described to you.
"If you're just going to be lazy, then come back at eight." Aang's voice came sharp this time.
He swiftly turned his back to the living area as he moved toward the stove, focusing instead on the task in front of him.
The room stilled again.
You glanced between them, and after a brief pause, you simply stepped after Aang, returning to your place beside him, your hands resuming their quiet work, peeling through the peas with careful attention.
Katara watched for only a second longer before she exhaled softly.
"I'll be back," she said, and her gaze lingered on Aang for a moment before she turned away, stepping out of the kitchen and into the living area.
Zuko noticed the way the space between you and Aang had closed again, your voices lowering for something private, so he followed Katara's lead, stepping away to give you both some distance without making it obvious.
In the living area, Sokka leaned back against the couch, his earlier frustration still present beneath the surface.
Katara did not sit. She stood in front of him, her arms folding as her voice dropped.
"You need to apologize to him."
"I will," Sokka said, almost immediately, his voice riddled with guilt. "Of course I will."
There was a pause.
Then he added, "But you can't tell me you don't agree with me."
"I don't."
Zuko's voice cut in before Katara could respond.
"I think she is rather lovely."
Sokka let out a short, incredulous breath, turning toward him with a look that bordered on disbelief.
"Okay, stop with the compliments," he snapped. "It's weird coming from you."
Toph pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, a grin pulling at her expression.
"Oh, this is interesting," she said, her tone carrying that familiar edge of amusement. "Has Zuko taken an interest in the missus?"
"Nonsense," Zuko replied immediately. "I am stating what is obvious. They suit each other."
His gaze shifted then, drawn back toward the kitchen as the others followed.
Through the open space, they could see the two of you clearly. Aang standing close you, speaking in hushed whispers and big smiles.
Perhaps he says something funny, because you reached for him, your hand lifting to land a playful slap on his shoulder, only for him to catch it before it landed.
His fingers closed around yours as he brought your hand upward planting a kiss to the inside of your wrist.
Katara looked away first, and her gaze shifted sharply, her focus fixing elsewhere as she tries not to dwell on what she just saw.
"Come on, Zuko," she said. "We still have dinner to finish."
She did not wait for a response, already turning back toward the kitchen. Zuko followed shortly after, stepping away and leaving Toph and Sokka alone.
It was nightfall by the time dinner ended. The table had been cleared, dishes left soaking, and a bottle of wine had been opened for those who wanted it, though tonight it was only Toph and Zuko who indulged.
Sokka had declined, his reason simple. He wanted to keep a clear head for what he had to do.
He had to apologize.
So he stood outside on the balcony with Aang, the doors shut behind them, their voices muffled by the glass, leaving the rest of the house quieter.
You did not remain in the living area.
The unfamiliarity of his friends still remained, so when Aang stepped away, you excused yourself with the pretense of needing water. The kitchen welcomed you back as you sat upon the open counter, a glass in your hand.
Zuko noticed.
He had been seated in the living area, his attention divided between the balcony and you. Your absence had settled firmly in his awareness.
Katara and Toph remained focused on the figures outside, so he rose without announcement. The soft sound of his steps did not reach you until he was already there, a glass of wine held loosely in his hand.
"Do you not drink?"
His voice broke through your thoughts as you looked up, pulled back into the present.
"Oh...I used to, my father would allow me a couple sips during dinner." you said, smiling fondly at the memory, but instantly a scowl tainted your face, as though you had remembered something foul.
"I abstain now that I have married Aang." You ended, smile returning.
"Did he ask you to do that?"
"No," you answered. "I chose to. Out of respect for my husband's culture."
You weren't sure of the Fire Lord's motives in approaching you, but you decided to make the best of the situation.
"May I ask what happened between him and Sokka?" you questioned, your eyes meeting his in confidence. Zuko was sure you were examining for even the slightest nuance.
Zuko did not answer immediately, knowing it wasn't his place.
"I think it would be better if it came from Aang," he replied at last.
Your expression did not change.
"What difference does it make, Fire Lord Zuko, if you were the one to tell me?"
"The difference lies in trust," he said. "You may not take my words lightly if they come from me, and I would prefer that there be no unnecessary conflict between us."
"And you suspect there will be," you said, not as a question.
Zuko exhaled faintly.
"I believe there would be," he admitted. "Because unlike Aang, I would not soften what was said."
A small sound left you then, something close to a laugh but not entirely one.
"I may not have known Aang for as long you have, but even I know that Aang is not one to gain a temper against his friends so easily. At least, not anymore."
"You would be surprised at his younger self." He humors.
You chuckle, but your fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
"Then maybe you can tell me this," you continued, your voice lowering.
"Was the reason of their fight, me?"
Zuko hesitated.
"...You could say that."
"Was I insulted in my husband's presence?"
His silence was answer enough.
"Pray tell," you said, the calm in your voice almost poisonous. "what exactly was said?"
"Many things," he replied. "Things I would hope you take with a grain of salt, since it came from Sokka."
"Funny."
You did not remain where you were.
The glass was set aside, forgotten, as you stepped down from the counter, closing the distance until you stood before him, your gaze lifting to meet his.
"Aang spoke to me about you. I didn't even know he was friends with you until yesterday."
"That's surprising, considering everyone knows of the Avatar's feat of ending the 100 year war, including my involvement."
"I didn't think to connect the dots."
"Hmm."
"He told me about how you met. A very endearing story. The lengths one goes to for their honor."
Zuko couldn't tell if that was meant to mock him, but that phase of his life still remained something he was ashamed of, so the frown on his face was inevitable.
"Do not be upset. I didn't mean it as an insult. I'm only mentioning it because it's something I can agree with."
You clarify, setting the cup of water down onto the counter before continuing.
"Which is why I figure you will understand that," you paused, your voice steady as you finished your sentence. "My honor is not something I treat lightly. It is very dear to me."
You stepped even closer, the space between you narrowing until it left little room for anything else.
Zuko did not speak.
There was something in the way you held yourself despite the quiet fracture beginning to show, that felt familiar. It did not come from recognition of you, but from something he had once carried himself, something he had fought to reclaim.
Honor.
It wasn't just a word, it was once his purpose and now his treasure.
"I understand." he said.
Your composure faltered then. Your jaw tightened, you did not look away, and Zuko noticed there was a sheen to your eyes now.
"Do you really?" you asked.
"I do," Zuko answered. "But I also do not want you to turn against Sokka because of it. He is still Aang's closest friend."
"Perhaps he will not be for long."
Your response had come without any hesitation, and it stumped him.
You drew in a quiet breath, the tension pulling inward once more as you turned away. You grabbed the glass of water you set down, draining it in one motion before you started rinsing it with more force than necessary.
Behind you, Zuko remained still.
Until now, he had believed Sokka's concerns were rooted in something else. Namely, in the history between Aang and Katara. But standing there, watching the way your single statement had carried a genuine threat behind it, he began to see it differently.
Maybe, Sokka was not disappointed by the unwritten story of Aang and Katara.
Perhaps he feared what your presence would do to the group, because he saw something in you the others failed to see.
Zuko returned to the living area and he noticed you leaving the kitchen in the same moment, your movement quick, and he assumed you had gone in search of some quiet corner of the house.
By the time he seated himself again, the balcony doors had opened.
Aang and Sokka stepped back inside together, the earlier tension between them no longer sharp, though it was not entirely gone. After all, Aang may forgive, but he was not one to forget easily.
Zuko's scanned their dejected faces, so to lighten the mood he jokes—
"Were you both crying?" he asked.
"No, we were not!" Aang and Sokka answered at once, their voices overlapping in perfect unison, and for a brief moment, something familiar surfaced between them.
Laughter followed, and it felt like they were all kids again.
Aang's attention shifted soon after, his gaze moving across the room before settling into a small frown.
"Where is she?" he asked.
Zuko leaned back slightly. "She stepped out. I believe she went to find the restroom."
Aang's expression tightened just a fraction. "I don't think she knows where it is."
"She's a big girl," Toph said from the couch. "She'll figure it out."
"I can go check," Katara offered, already stepping forward.
Aang stopped her before she could take another step. His hand caught her arm gently, halting her movement. Her breath hitched, the reaction subtle as her resistance dissolved beneath Aang's touch.
"I'll go," he said instead. He did not wait for a response before turning, already moving out of the room in search of you.
In his haste, he did not notice what had slipped loose. It was Katara who saw it first, her gaze dropping toward the floor just after he had disappeared from view.
"His emblem—" She pointed.
The small piece lay near where he had stood, the Air Nomad symbol detached. Zuko reached for it before anyone else could, his fingers closing around it with care.
"I'll bring it to him," he said, stepping away from the others, the emblem held loosely in his hand, as he moved through the unfamiliar layout of the house, turning once, then again.
And then he found you both.
He stopped before either of you noticed him.
You both stood close, your hands pressed against Aang's chest, your fingers curled slightly into the fabric. Aang's hands rested at back as his arms engulfed you.
Zuko stepped back instinctively, retreating into the shadow of the wall, turning his gaze away even he remained where he was, his presence hidden.
He did not watch.
He listened.
A soft sound broke through the quiet as you pulled away, your voice following after.
"Why won't you just tell me?" you asked, the words catching at the edges. "What did Sokka say?"
Aang did not answer, and the silence went on with the occasional break of your sniffles, enough to confirm what had not been said.
"Zuko said he insulted me. Did you just forgive him for it?" you pressed, your voice breaking slightly.
"...Not exactly—"
"It's a yes or no question," you cut in, sharper now, though the hurt beneath it did not lessen. "Tell me, what did he say, Aang?"
"Please stop crying," Aang whispered as you pulled you into a hug yet again. "I'll tell you everything once we're home."
You sobbed against his chest, your breath uneven, before you braced yourself for your next words.
"Did...did you tell Sokka about...what happened...—"
"I would never!" He exclaimed softly, pulling away slightly so he could meet your eyes. "I would never disrespect you like that, I promise you."
"But Sokka did, didn't he? And I consider you forgiving him is just as disrespectful."
"I forgave him because he was sincere with his apology. Sokka is not someone who acts on his feelings like that."
"How is that meant to justify anything."
"It means, whatever was said about you was his anger directed at me."
There was a pause after his statement, shifting your eyes from his as you closed them shut.
Your grip on him tightened, inhaling softly to you ease your emotions.
"It seems my presence has caused a lot of harm. And it's only been a day."
"It is not your fault. My friends felt deceived because I didn't tell them about you. I chose to stay silent."
You knew Aang meant well, but you were taking his words at face value.
"...I feel as though I have trapped you. I should have never agreed—"
"You are the best thing that has happened to me. I know it may not have seemed like it in the beginning, but I do not regret asking you to marry me. I never will."
His tone softened further as his hands lifted, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had already fallen.
"I am sorry that you've been having a hard time around my friends."
Even though he didn't need to, his apology was reassuring, and you shook your head with a smile.
"It's alright. It shows how much they care for you."
At your words he smiles, thumbs brushing your cheeks.
"Let me take you home. I'll explain everything."
You nod, head tilting back as he leaned closer for a kiss. The kiss was not brief. It was deep and vulnerable, the shine of tears still tracing your cheeks.
Then there was nothing more.
Zuko did not stay. He stepped away as quietly as he had arrived, your conversation left behind him.
When he returned to the others, Katara noticed his failed excursion immediately, eyes dropping to the emblem still in his hand.
"You couldn't find him?" she asked.
Zuko glanced down at the emblem, then back at her.
"No." he said calmly. "I'm sure he will return for it."
chapter three coming soon...
a/n: fair warning, this story will have darker themes in the future. my vision for this story is very straightforward and to the point, so yes, the characters may seem ooc at times. but i gotta do it for the plot. just promise me, no one will hate on the actual characters, okay?
I was re-watching technos' "becoming unbelievably rich" stream and the amount of him saying that 'he's been a good boy' took me back to your oneshot(?) fic, that i read🤤🤤
self-proclaimed "good boy" technoblade deniers when i show them the clips
AUGTBI, 12/? : … After a nostalgic watch of an old indie show you used to love, you wake up in said show. Living through a plot you already know should be easy. Key word: should
https://archiveofourown.org/works/82684731
BINOMI, 2/? : When word of a supposed vampire breaks out on the SMP, what does that mean for you- the vessel of the Crimson Egg?
My name is Kelsey! I write for fun even if it’s cringe ^_^
Currently my two projects are An Unofficial Guide to Being Isekai’d and BINOMI! My focus is on the first. Binomi is something I go to when I need a small break from writing
-Being on a date at the mansion with bikini jowel and then fem!reader getting on the bathtub with him? —🌼anon—
ft. jowol (porcelainmaid) x f! reader — indie vtubers
╰₊✧ having a pool date at the manor┊0.5k words
contains: suggestive at the end, dismemberment but he’s a doll so it’s fine
➤ author's note: i need to write more porcelainmaid fics he's so hot ahhhh (also i think one of his backgrounds is like a massive pool,, so i used that instead of the bathtub ^^)
if there was anything joel missed, it was the beach with the sun tanning his skin, the gentle breeze, and the wash of the waves at his feet. he didn’t think too far about the details, he just wanted to go on a date with his lovely girlfriend. after finding a nearby beach that didn’t have many visitors (he didn’t want anyone to freak out about a life-sized porcelain doll come to life), he got all dressed up in a cute black bikini and packed all of the essentials with a whistle, and quickly ran into a problem the second he got settled.
the sand was getting all up in his joints, and the gritty texture was grinding into the delicate porcelain of his skin. it wasn’t necessarily painful, but it was certainly uncomfortable to the point that the trip was cut short after just half an hour.
“ugh, this is bullshit!” he groaned. instead of the warm ocean waters, he was back in the haunted manor he had already isolated himself in for the past two years, lowering himself into the cold water of the massive stone pool in the basement.
“oh come on,” you tutted. “it’s not that bad. it was expensive to have it cleaned, we might as well use it.”
“it was only expensive because the guy was scared of this place and charged extra!”
“well, can you blame him? this place is creepy as fuck, even after we renovated it.”
“no, it isn’t! also, are you almost done with my limbs? i feel a little helpless here with nothing but my head connected to my body…”
you couldn’t help but giggle, “yeah, i’m almost done, give me a sec.” helping him clean up wasn’t difficult, but it could be tedious at time with how you had to wipe away any impurities and oil the joints to prevent him from getting stiff. once you were finished with his arm, you collected all of his parts and helped him reattach them. “better?”
“yeah, thanks.” his tone is casual and dismissive, but you know it means a lot to him that you were helping him out like this when he struggled to do it all on his own. “join me?”
“i thought you’d never ask.” you dipped your feet into the pool and took off the knitted coverup that slightly obscured your swimsuit below, noticing jowol's red eyes shamelessly trailing up your legs and curves that were accentuated as you submerged yourself into the water. “stop staring at me like that, you pervert.
“i’m not! you just have really nice legs, i can’t admire your legs anymore? if anything you’re the pervert, you were looking at my tits the entire time we were at the beach! don’t think i didn’t notice just because i was complaining about the sand.”
you scoffed, “well, you’re always wearing that dress that covers up every inch of you, so i’m so sorry that i got distracted by your assets.”
“well, i guess that makes both of us perverts then.”
The sky above Manberg hung heavy with dark clouds, turning the afternoon light dull and gray. From the balcony of your small wooden house overlooking the central square, you could see the entire crowd gathered around the large stage that had been built for the election announcement. Colorful banners fluttered in the wind, but the atmosphere felt anything but celebratory. Something about the air felt wrong, tense, like the calm before a storm.
At the center of it all stood Jschlatt, his posture arrogant and triumphant as he gripped the podium. His voice carried across the square through the microphone, echoing off the buildings and stone paths of the city.
You leaned against the balcony railing, your fingers tightening slightly around the rough wood as you watched him. Below, sitting in the front rows among the crowd, were TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot. Even from this distance, you could see how rigid their bodies were, how their shoulders seemed tense as they listened to the speech.
Your chest felt tight.
When the election results had first been announced, something in your stomach had twisted uneasily. Schlatt wasn’t someone who won quietly. If he had power now, he was going to use it.
And everyone knew it.
Schlatt raised his arms dramatically, his grin wide and smug.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Manberg!” he shouted, his voice full of pride and mock celebration. “Your new president has arrived!”
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Some people celebrated genuinely, others clapped hesitantly, clearly unsure of what this new leadership would bring.
You watched silently, your grip on the railing tightening.
Schlatt basked in the noise for a few moments before raising a hand to quiet the crowd. Slowly, the cheers faded into murmurs.
“Now,” he continued, his tone dropping slightly as his eyes scanned the people before him. “Before we move forward with this glorious new era of Manberg…”
Something about the way he said it made a cold shiver run down your spine.
“There are a few… problems we need to take care of.”
Your heart skipped.
Schlatt leaned closer to the microphone.
“I want TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot…”
He paused deliberately, letting the tension build.
Then he said your name.
“And Y/N.”
Your stomach dropped.
Schlatt’s smile widened into something cruel.
“Get them out of Manberg.”
The crowd murmured in confusion.
Then Schlatt shrugged casually, as if what he was about to say meant nothing at all.
“Or kill them.”
For a single heartbeat, the entire square fell silent.
Then chaos erupted.
Tommy shot to his feet instantly, knocking his chair backward in his rush to escape. Wilbur grabbed his arm and the two of them ran through the crowd, shoving past confused citizens as guards and soldiers quickly began to react.
You saw Punz push through the crowd, already chasing after them. Nearby, Sapnap followed closely behind, his sword drawn as he sprinted through the streets.
Your breathing quickened.
They were coming for you too.
Without wasting another second, you rushed back inside your house and slammed the balcony door shut behind you. Your heart pounded violently against your ribs as you hurried across the room, your mind racing.
You needed a weapon.
Your hands shook slightly as you grabbed the sword leaning against the wall near the staircase. It was heavier than you remembered, the metal cold and unfamiliar in your grip. You had never been much of a fighter. The sword felt awkward in your hands, like something that belonged to someone else entirely.
But right now, it was the only thing standing between you and death.
You took a deep breath and began moving down the stairs, your footsteps quick but cautious.
Halfway down, you froze.
Someone was standing in your living room.
Your heart lurched painfully as you recognized the tall figure immediately.
Dream.
Your eyes widened in shock and fear.
He stood calmly in the center of the room, as if he had all the time in the world, his mask staring directly at you. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.
Your grip tightened around the sword.
“Please,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly despite your attempt to stay calm. “Spare me.”
Dream didn’t respond.
Instead, he began walking toward you slowly.
Each step echoed softly against the wooden floor, the sound making your chest tighten further.
Before you could react, he suddenly reached forward and grabbed your face roughly, his gloved hand gripping your jaw and forcing your head upward so you were looking directly into the blank expression of his mask.
Your breath caught in your throat.
Instinct took over.
You swung the sword.
But Dream’s reflexes were far faster than yours.
His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist mid-swing. The sudden force stopped your movement completely, and before you could pull away, he twisted your wrist sharply.
Pain shot through your arm like lightning.
You cried out, the sword slipping from your fingers as it clattered loudly against the floor.
Dream leaned closer, his grip still firm on your wrist.
“You can stay alive,” he said calmly.
Your breathing was uneven now, your chest rising and falling quickly as fear curled tightly in your stomach.
“All you have to do,” Dream continued, his voice steady and cold, “is betray Tommy and Wilbur.”
Your eyes hardened instantly.
The pain in your wrist barely mattered anymore.
“No.”
Dream tilted his head slightly.
“They’re family,” you said firmly, your voice shaking but determined. “I’m not betraying them.”
For a moment, Dream said nothing.
Then suddenly, he released your wrist.
“You have ten seconds,” he said.
Your eyes widened.
“To get out of Manberg.”
You didn’t hesitate.
You turned and ran.
Bursting through your front door, you sprinted down the street as fast as your legs could carry you. Your lungs burned as the cold air rushed into them, your boots pounding against the ground as you headed straight for the forest outside the city.
Branches whipped against your arms and cloak as you pushed through the trees.
Then, against your better judgment, you glanced back.
Your heart nearly stopped.
Dream was already behind you.
He moved through the forest effortlessly, closing the distance between you far too quickly.
Panic surged through your body.
You ran faster, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as the forest grew thicker around you.
Then suddenly—
The ground vanished beneath your feet.
You skidded to a stop just inches from the edge of a cliff.
Your heart pounded wildly as you slowly turned around.
Dream stood several meters away.
Then he ran at you.
The speed caught you completely off guard.
His sword flashed through the air.
Pain exploded across your side as the blade sliced into you. Before you could react, another strike cut across your neck, warm blood spilling down your skin and soaking into your cloak.
Your vision blurred.
Dream raised his sword again.
But your foot slipped.
You stumbled backward.
And fell.
The fall felt endless.
Then darkness.
Pain dragged you back into consciousness.
Your eyes slowly opened as you lay at the bottom of the cliff, the world around you spinning slightly. Snowflakes drifted gently through the air, settling on the ground and on your blood-stained clothing.
Your head throbbed painfully.
Your right arm ached terribly, and the wounds along your side and neck still burned with every breath you took.
You forced yourself to sit up, though the movement made your vision swim.
You couldn’t stay here.
Dream might come looking.
Slowly, painfully, you began walking.
After several minutes of struggling through the forest, you spotted something ahead.
A wagon.
It sat on a rail line cutting through the snowy terrain.
You didn’t know where it led.
But it led away from Manberg.
And that was enough.
You climbed inside the wagon and pushed it forward with the last bit of strength you had. At first the wheels rolled slowly along the rails, creaking softly as they moved.
Then the wagon hit a redstone rail.
Suddenly it shot forward.
Cold air rushed around you as the wagon sped through the snowy biome, the wind biting against your injured body. You curled into a small ball in the corner of the wagon, your cloak wrapped tightly around you as exhaustion finally overtook you.
Your eyes slowly closed.
You woke later to silence.
The wagon had stopped.
Snow stretched endlessly in every direction.
You climbed out slowly, your legs shaking beneath you.
The cold seeped through your clothes as you looked around, searching desperately for any sign of civilization.
There was none.
Still, you began walking.
Each step grew heavier than the last, your wounds leaving faint drops of blood in the snow behind you.
Eventually, your legs gave out completely.
You collapsed into the snow, the cold biting into your skin.
Your vision blurred as darkness slowly crept in.
And finally, you lost consciousness.
Not far away, Technoblade and Philza moved quietly through the snowy forest while hunting.
Philza stopped suddenly.
“Techno.”
Technoblade turned toward him.
“What?”
Phil pointed down at the ground.
A trail of blood.
They followed it through the forest, the crimson stains standing out starkly against the white snow.
The trail eventually led them to a figure lying motionless beneath a tree.
You.
Technoblade stopped walking.
Inside his head, the voices immediately erupted.
SAVE HER.
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD—
WAIT NO NOT HER.
OMG A WOMAN.
SHE’S PRETTY.
BLOOD.
Technoblade pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Shut up,” he muttered quietly.
Philza crouched beside you, gently checking your pulse.
“She’s alive,” he said after a moment.
Technoblade looked down at you.
Your breathing was shallow, your skin pale from blood loss, your body half buried in snow.
The voices screamed again.
SAVE HER.
Technoblade sighed heavily.
Then he bent down and carefully lifted you into his arms.
“Let’s take her home.”
Philza nodded.
And together, they carried you back through the silent snowy forest.
