Hello! I would like to request a scenario or one-shot about the wedding of a Fire Nation reader to Aang. I wonder what differences there would be between the two cultures.
I Promise| ATLA
Adult Aang x Fire Nation Reader | Fluff | Requested
╰┈➤ Two nations, two cultures, and two lovers. United on a special day to get together.
Tags: fluff, wedding celebration, light hearted, cute wedding vows, playful remarks, author feels lonely, author didn't proof read this one
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The afternoon sun beat down on Ember Island, casting a golden glow over the sandy beach where the wedding pavilion stood. The ocean waves rolled in with a gentle, rhythmic crash, their salty spray mixing with the sweet, heavy scent of tropical hibiscus. It was a picture perfect day, bursting with an infectious, lighthearted energy that made it impossible not to smile. The entire venue felt alive, humming with a sweet, dizzying romance that perfectly captured the feeling of a love so bright and joyful, it simply swept everyone up in its wake.
The differences between your two cultures were beautifully stitched into every corner of the ceremony. The Fire Nation elements brought an intense, structured elegance to the beach. Deep crimson silks lined the aisle, and your family sat in quiet, dignified posture, dressed in sharply tailored ceremonial robes. On the other side, the Air Nomad customs breathed a sense of fluid freedom into the space. Soft yellow and orange drapes fluttered wildly in the ocean breeze, wind chimes sang from the wooden beams of the pavilion, and Aang’s guests sat cross legged on comfortable cushions, ready to enjoy the rest of the late evening once the sun sets.
Aang stood at the altar, looking sharp yet distinctly soft in his formal saffron robes, his blue arrow tattoos peeking out proudly. The moment you stepped onto the aisle, his breath caught entirely. He didn't look like the stoic, legendary Avatar in that moment; he looked like a man who was completely, helplessly captivated by the sight of you. A massive, goofy grin spread across his face, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners with pure delight.
As you reached the altar, your hands met. His palms were warm, his thumbs immediately rubbing gentle circles over the backs of your knuckles to soothe any lingering nerves.
"Wow," Aang whispered, his voice shaking just a fraction with an emotion so vast it rivaled the ocean behind you. "You look absolutely incredible. I mean, truly beautiful. I'm trying really hard not to just pull us both out of here so I can look at you in peace."
You let out a soft laugh, the tension instantly melting out of your shoulders at the sheer warmth in his gaze. "You don't look too bad yourself, Aang. The formal robes suit you. Though, I think your cape is catching a bit too much of the sea breeze."
"Is it?" Aang glanced back, giving his cape a playful little twitch that made it flutter perfectly into place. "See? Total control. But honestly? I had a whole speech prepared. Monk Gyatso always taught me that a wise man knows exactly what to say, but looking at you right now... I think I've completely forgotten every single word of what I'm supposed to say. My brain is just entirely blank."
"The great Avatar, defeated by a bit of silk and fire embroidery?" you murmured playfully with a soft chuckle at the end of your sentence, stepping a fraction closer, your heart doing a happy little flutter at the adoration in his eyes.
"Completely powerless against you," Aang confessed, his voice dropping into a warm, intimate tone meant only for your ears. "People always ask me how I maintain balance in a world that's constantly changing. The truth is, I only truly found it when I found you. You're fiery, you're beautifully stubborn, and you keep me grounded while somehow making me feel like I'm flying higher than I ever could."
A soft murmur of laughter rippled through the crowd as Aang leaned in a bit closer, completely ignoring the stiff, regal posture expected of his title. In the front row, Sokka was already wiping away a dramatic tear, while also still side glancing at the buffet table every now and then, guess he still got priorities. The lighthearted, joyful atmosphere felt less like a high profile political union and more like a vibrant, spontaneous celebration of a love that had simply grown until it filled every corner of your lives.
"You brought a spark into my life that I didn't even know was missing," Aang continued, his smile softening into something deeply earnest, his eyes locking onto yours. "I promise to always keep up with that spark. I promise to listen, to laugh with you through the easy days, and to hold you close through the stormy ones. I promise to love you through this lifetime, and every single one we're given after."
You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, your heart thrumming happily beneath your skin at his words, a playful spark igniting in your eyes. "I promise to be your anchor, Aang. Even when you're blowing through life like a cyclone, I'll be right there to catch you. I promise to handle your goofy jokes, to share my memories with you, and to love you exactly as you are. I love you."
The priest stepped forward, raising his hands to signal the blending of traditions. From your side, a flame was kindled in a beautiful bronze brazier, representing the passion and bright future of the Fire Nation. From Aang's side, a gentle gust of wind swept through the pavilion, swirling the smoke from the ceremonial incense into a perfect, peaceful ring above your heads. The fire and air didn't clash; instead, the wind fed the flame, making it burn brighter, purer, and more vibrant than before.
"By the alignment of the elements and the love you share," the priest announced, "I declare you bound in spirit and life."
Before the priest could even finish the sentence, Aang caught you by the waist, pulling you flush against him. His laugh was breathless against your lips as he kissed you, a sweet, lingering warmth that felt like absolute home. The crowd erupted into loud cheers Toph let out a booming whistle, and Zuko actually smiled, clapping warmly from his seat.
When Aang finally pulled back, he didn't let go of your waist. Instead, he leaned his forehead against yours, his hands resting on your hips as he looked down at you with that same helpless, completely infatuated grin.
"hey, husband," you whispered, the word tasting sweet and exciting on your tongue.
"hey, wife.." Aang beamed, his eyes practically sparkling. He gave you a quick, playful squeeze, lifting you just an inch off the ground with a micro burst of air. "We're actually married. Come on, let's go get some of that wedding cake before Sokka eats the entire thing, I saw him moments ago looking at it."
Hand in hand, you both turned toward the aisle, Aang proudly raising your joined hands into the air as your family sent bright, harmless fireworks of red and gold spiraling into the sky, celebrating a new love.
Author's Note
Whoaaaa this is actually my first request!! I'm so happy (≧▽≦) tysm for requesting anonymous ^^
I really liked this concept I just get so giddy when I write or read fluff, I like silly readers or goofs like my boy Aang
╰┈➤ Being a admirer of a rebellious and misunderstood Avatar can be a roller coaster. While others perceive Korra as "mean" or "shallow", you see her softness hidden from the world and longs for Korra to drop her defensive tough exterior.
Tags: soft Korra (only for reader), defensive Korra, witty reader ( ꈍᴗꈍ), emotional comfort, playful bantering, established relationship, wuh luh wuh
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The training courtyard at Air Temple Island smelled heavily of scorched wood and Korra’s intense frustration. It was the afternoon following her disastrous first press conference at City Hall. She had just blasted a row of training dummies into splinters, her shoulders heaving under her blue Water Tribe top, her jaw set in that stubborn, defensive line she always wore when the city got under her skin.
To the rest of Republic City, Korra was turning into a public menace—brash, reckless, and altogether too loud. The newspapers were already printing Chief Beifong's threats to throw her in jail. But sitting on the stone steps, you just saw a girl who was trying way too hard to look like she had everything under control.
"You know, those dummies didn't do anything to you," you said, tossing a small pebble near her boot to get her attention. "I don't think they deserve the execution treatment."
Korra spun around, her eyes flashing with a spark of anger that immediately softened when she realized it was just you. She wiped a streak of soot from her forehead, only succeeding in smearing it further, and crossed her arms. "They're meant for practicing, right? I'm practicing."
"You're venting," you corrected, standing up and brushing off your pants. You walked over to her, completely unfazed by the smoke still curling from her fists. "There's a difference. Come here.."
"I'm fine," she grumbled, looking away and doing that little chin tilt she did when she wanted to look untouchable. She looked like a classic street rebel right now, all muscle, scowls, and a fierce "don't-mess-with-me" attitude that scared off most of the acolytes.
"Sure you are," you replied, stepping right into her personal space. You reached up, using the sleeve of your shirt to gently wipe the soot off her face. "But your face is covered in ash, and if you keep scowling like that, it’s going to freeze that way. Katara told me that’s a real medical condition in the South Pole."
Korra let out a sharp, breathless laugh, her shoulders finally dropping an inch. "She did not."
"Okay, maybe I made that up. But seriously, Korra. Drop the tough exterior for five minutes..it's just me."
She sighed, a heavy, tired sound. For all her bravado and the way she tried to push people away with her sharp edges, you knew how easily she got hurt by the city's criticism. Underneath the leather arm guards and the fiery temper, she was just a girl trying to find her footing.
"It's just... everyone expects me to be this perfect savior," Korra muttered, her voice dropping its usual competitive edge.
"And when I'm not, they call me a thug. So fine. If they want a troublemaker, I'll give them one."
"Well, lucky for you, I happen to like troublemakers,"
you said with an easy grin, nudging her side with your elbow. "Though, to be fair, I happen to know this specific one secretly cries when Naga gets a splinter, so your tough reputation is totally ruined with me."
Korra’s face flushed pink, and she shoved your shoulder playfully. "I do not cry. It was dust in my eye."
"Right, right. Dust." You reached down, sliding your hand into hers. Her fingers were warm and calloused, but they wrapped around yours instantly, holding on with a quiet, desperate kind of gratitude. "You don't have to prove how tough you are to me. I already know you can throw a tank."
Before she could answer, the heavy wooden doors of the main hall swung open with a dramatic creak.
"Korra, There you are"
Tenzin strode out onto the lawn, his hands tucked firmly into his long robes, a fresh morning newspaper clutched under one arm. Behind him, Ikki and Meelo were busy in a game of air ball tag, zipping around his legs.
The second the door clicked, Korra’s hand went completely rigid in yours. In a split second, she didn't just pull her hand away, she practically dropped it like a hot coal.
The soft, relaxed curve of her mouth disappeared, replaced instantly by that familiar, hard edged scowl. Her shoulders squared, her chin tilted up aggressively, and she stepped an inch in front of you, instinctively putting herself between you and the incoming lecture. The girl who had just been laughing vanished, replaced by the stubborn Avatar again.
"What is it, Tenzin?" Korra barked, her voice dropping back into that sharp, defensive tone. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "If this is about the skate park, I already told you, those triad guys started it."
"It is about your utter lack of restraint..!" Tenzin sighed, rubbing his temples as he stopped a few paces away. "The morning papers have just arrived, Korra. The headlines are calling your arrival an 'unmitigated disaster of property damage'! Chief Beifong is already demanding you be sent back to the South Pole."
"Oh, of course she is," Korra sneered, her eyes flashing with anger. She kicked at a piece of scorched wood near her boot, sending it flying across the stone courtyard. "Let her talk. I don't care what she or the papers think. I'm stopping the bad guys. Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing?"
"By leveling a city block!?" Tenzin’s voice cracked slightly, his face turning a shade of pink.
You stood just a half step behind her, watching the back of her head. It was almost jarring to see how fast she had locked herself back in her armor. To Tenzin, she just looked like an arrogant, defiant teenager who refused to listen to reason. But you could see the way her knuckles were white where she was gripping her own arms. You knew exactly how much those headlines actually stung her.
"Korra's hair is messy!" Meelo yelled, suddenly skidding to a halt on his air scooter right next to her leg, pointing a sticky finger at her face. "And she smells like smoke!"
"Not now, Meelo," Korra sighed, keeping her fierce glare locked entirely on Tenzin.
"I am only trying to help you understand, Korra," Tenzin said, his voice dropping into a heavy, disappointed tone that always made Korra’s defensive walls shoot up twice as high.
"You cannot simply punch your way through the law."
"Watch me then."
She muttered under her breath, her jaw practically locked shut. You knew if you let them keep going, they'd be screaming at each other until dusk, and Korra would end up retreating to her room to simmer in her own frustration for the rest of the night.
"Master Tenzin," you interjected smoothly, stepping up right next to Korra and giving her arm a subtle, grounding nudge with your elbow. "To be fair, she actually saved those shopkeepers from being extorted. The papers just conveniently left that part out because drama sells more copies."
Tenzin blinked, his lecture temporarily derailed by your calm logic. He looked at you, then at Korra, letting out a long, defeated sigh. "Be that as it may... we must maintain order. Airbending practice begins in ten minutes, Korra. Do not be late."
Korra didn't say anything until Tenzin turned and ushered the kids back inside. But the second the doors shut, you felt her shoulder drop a fraction of an inch against yours, the tension pulling back just a tiny bit now that the audience was gone.
"You really didn't have to jump in like that," Korra muttered, though she didn't move away from you. She was trying to bring that defensive, grumbling voice back, but it was already losing its edge. "I could have handled him."
"Oh, definitely," you said, turning to face her with an amused smirk. "You were doing great. I think you were just two sentences away from him throwing his back out from yelling so hard. Truly a masterpiece of conflict resolution."
Korra let out a small huff, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. "Shut up. He just gets on my nerves. 'Maintain order, think about the politics'—I didn't train my whole life just to sit around and worry about public relations."
"I know," you said softly, your tone dropping the teasing edge as you looked at her. The anger was fading from her eyes, leaving behind that quiet, exhausted look she only ever showed you when the rest of the world wasn't looking. "But you don't have to carry the whole city on your shoulders right this second. Come on. Ten minutes means we have exactly enough time to grab a snack before you have to go deal with those airbending gates."
Korra stared at you for a long second, her expression completely softening into something warm and real, the fierce Avatar facade fully melting away. "You're lucky you're cute," she murmured, finally letting out a genuine laugh. "Lead the way."
Author's Note
AHHHHH Korra scenario is out (≧▽≦) this is all for my beloved Korra fans out there 😣🤞 I wrote this on the bus, ya girl is going to the capital and have fun !! Maybe I could get scenario ideas while still on vacation mode 😋 although this means slower updates after this is posted, BUT I'll try to keep up dw ( ╹▽╹ )
Rehabilitated Kuvira x Female Reader | fluff | PART 2
╰┈➤ Kuvira starts to feel an aching feeling in her heart whenever she is around you. Her eventual realization causes her to become rather shy and clumsy with her words and actions but it seems you don't mind at all.
Mini scenario series! [Previous post] Part 1
[Next post] Part3
Tags: fluff, soft Kuvira, wlw, rehabilitated Kuvira, redemption arc Kuvira, unfortunately reader is oblivious to her feelings (for now), Lin being suspicious, hand holding !!!!, Author yearning for a Kuvira in her life
︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ୨୧︶
The quiet of the upper library was entirely absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, soft scratching of Kuvira’s ink pen against paper. She sat rigidly at the heavy oak desk, desperately trying to focus on her mandatory daily reflection ledger, but her gaze kept fracturing from the door then onto her paper as if hoping to see you open that door just to check on her like always.
She was deeply, completely in love with you. For a woman who had once commanded legions with absolute certainty, this total loss of control was terrifying. Her mind, usually having flawless organized thoughts now turned to absolute mush whenever you simply walked into the room.
The heavy double doors of the library creaked open, breaking the silence as you walked back into the space. You were balancing a fresh crystal pitcher of mountain spring water and a clean glass on a silver tray.
"Hey Kuvira.. I've brought you some water," you announced cheerfully, walking over and setting the tray down on the corner of her desk. "It’s freezing cold, just how you like it."
"Thank you," Kuvira said, keeping her voice carefully level, aiming for the smooth, authoritative tone she used to wear like armor. "Your promptness is,as always...commendable."
You paused, pouring the water from the heavy crystal pitcher into the glass, and looked at her with an amused, slightly puzzled expression. "Commendable? Kuvira, are you giving me a performance review or a thank you?" You let out a small chuckle.
Kuvira’s composure immediately fractured. A bright prickle of heat flared right back up her neck. "I am merely expressing gratitude in a proper, structured manner."
"Well, you're very welcome," you said, your voice softening as you lifted the filled glass to hand it to her.
As Kuvira reached out to take it, her fingers brushed against yours. It wasn't just a fleeting contact this time; her thumb accidentally slid against the warm, soft skin of the back of your hand. A physical jolt ran up her arm, and her grip loosened in absolute panic. Her hand flinched, clipping the heavy crystal pitcher that was still resting on the edge of the tray.
With a loud clatter, the pitcher tilted, sending a wave of ice cold water spilling directly over the back of your hand, splashing across the silver tray, and soaking right into the leather binding of her reflection journal.
"Oh!—I am so sorry," Kuvira blurted out, her voice spiking in pitch.
She surged out of her chair so quickly it rattled loudly against the floorboards. Terrified that she had hurt you or made a total mess of your hard work, she grabbed a clean linen cloth from the nearby tea tray and immediately reached for your hand.
"I am incredibly clumsy," she muttered frantically, her usual poise completely vanishing. She took your hand in both of hers, using the cloth to gently, carefully dab the freezing water away from your skin. "I did not mean to—I should have been more careful—"
"Kuvira, hey, it’s just water," you said softly, completely startled not by the spill, but by the sheer, trembling intensity of her reaction.
Kuvira didn't listen. She was too busy realizing that she was currently holding your hand.
Your skin was incredibly soft, a stark contrast to her own calloused, metal strained fingers. Without the barrier of the cloth, her thumbs instinctively smoothed over the back of your knuckles, trying to warm you up, trying to prolong the touch for just a single, selfish second. She looked down at your hands joined together, her breath hitching in her throat. She wanted to lift your hand to her lips. She wanted to press it against her cheek. She wanted it more than anything.
Slowly, she looked up from your hands to your face.
Because she was standing and you were still slightly leaning over the desk, your faces were only inches apart. Kuvira could see the golden sun's reflection in your eyes, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, and the slight, curious parting of your lips. The silence between you grew heavy, thick with a sudden, unspoken tension that made the air feel completely electric.
For a terrifying, exhilarating second, Kuvira thought, This is it. 'She knows. She has to know.' Her green eyes darted down to your lips, a raw, desperate longing washing over her features before she caught herself.
Panic, cold and sharp, slammed into her. 'What are you doing?' she scolded herself in her head, her heart dropping into her stomach. 'You are invading her space. You are making her uncomfortable.'
With a sharp intake of breath, Kuvira abruptly let go of your hand, taking a giant step backward until the back of her knees hit her chair. She pulled her arms tight against her chest, her face burning a deep, agonizing crimson.
"I... I apologize," she stammered, looking wildly around the room, unable to meet your eyes. "I am not... myself today.. I will request a new one from Suyin. Please excuse my lack of decorum."
You stood there, holding the damp cloth, looking at her with a mixture of confusion and deep concern. You hadn't realized she was in love with you; you simply saw a proud woman who seemed entirely overwhelmed by stress and guilt, breaking down over a simple spill.
"Kuvira, you don't have to apologize," you said gently, taking a step toward her, your hand extending slightly. "It’s completely fine. The book isn't ruined. Are you okay?"
"Yes! Perfectly functional," Kuvira squeaked out, her voice completely betraying her. She desperately needed to escape before she confessed everything right then and there. She picked up a random, heavy history text from the desk, holding it against her chest like a shield. "I think... I think I require some air. I shall review the agricultural archives in the courtyard. Alone."
Before you could say another word, the former Great Uniter turned on her heel and marched out of the library, leaving you completely baffled but feeling a strange, fluttery warmth in your own chest.
The heavy double doors of the library slammed shut with a definitive, ringing thud that echoed off the high silver arches of the corridor. Kuvira didn't stop walking. In fact, she practically marched down the hallways of the Beifong estate, her stride carrying the fierce, rigid intensity of a military commander retreating from a disastrous ambush. Her green eyes were fixed straight ahead. All she could see was the memory of your face, just inches from hers, and the terrifying, electrifying sensation of your soft skin beneath her rough, calloused fingers. Her cheeks were burning so fiercely that she was certain the heat could melt metal.
She rounded a corner into the sun drenched northern gallery, clutching the heavy agricultural history textbook against her chest like a physical shield to hide the frantic, erratic hammering of her heart. "You are a fool", she scolded herself, the internal lecture sharp and unyielding as she fought to regulate her breathing. "A pathetic, undisciplined fool. She is a court-appointed professional tasked with monitoring your psychological rehabilitation. Get a grip on yourself." But the moment she closed her eyes, the subtle, calming scent of your vanilla soap and the crisp autumn wind rushed back into her mind, completely dismantling her defenses all over again.
"Well, look who finally crawled out of the library," a sharp, dry voice called out, shattering Kuvira's internal torment.
Kuvira snapped to attention, her posture instinctively straightening into perfect alignment as she looked down the balcony. Lin Beifong was leaning against the silver railing, her arms crossed tightly over her armored chest, a cup of strong black tea resting on the ledge beside her. A few paces away, Suyin was elegantly tending to a row of hanging orchids, using subtle, fluid hand gestures to bend the metal wire supporting the pots. Both sisters turned their sharp eyes toward Kuvira, and Su’s expression immediately shifted from calm focus to one of quiet amusement.
"Kuvira, dear, you look like you’ve just run a marathon," Suyin remarked softly, setting her tools down and walking over with a gentle smile. "Your face is entirely flushed. Did your metalbending exercises this morning catch up to you, or did you accidentally trigger one of the security panels in the library?"
"Neither, Su," Kuvira stammered, her voice lacking even a fraction of its usual commanding authority. She cleared her throat quickly, desperate to summon her old armor, but the burning heat in her cheeks betrayed her completely. "I am... perfectly functional. I merely found the atmosphere in the upper library to be somewhat stifling. I decided to bring my mandatory reading out to the courtyard for some fresh air."
Lin snorted, taking a slow sip of her tea without breaking her piercing gaze. "Stifling? The library dome has twelve active ventilation grates and a glass ceiling that opens to the mountain breeze. Try again." She stepped forward, her armor clanking softly against the stone floor, her eyes narrowing as she inspected Kuvira's tense frame. "You’ve got that exact look on your face that Baatar Jr. used to get whenever he accidentally blew up a prototype in the workshop. Like you’ve done something incredibly stupid and you’re waiting for the ceiling to collapse on you."
Kuvira’s jaw clenched, her fingers tightening so hard against the leather binding of the textbook that the cardboard beneath groaned. "I assure you, Chief Beifong, my conduct remains entirely within the boundaries of my parole. There has been no breach of protocol."
"Oh, leave her alone, Lin," Su chided gently, though the playful glint in her own eyes showed she wasn't entirely fooled either. She placed a comforting, elegant hand on Kuvira’s rigid shoulder, tilting her head. "Though, did something happen during your reflection hours with your caretaker?"
Hearing you mentioned sent a fresh, agonizing wave of embarrassment straight down Kuvira's spine. The memory of how she had practically screamed an apology, grabbed your hand, and stared longingly at your lips before running away like a startled sparrow made her want to earthbend a hole into the floor and disappear forever. "It was nothing," Kuvira muttered, looking down at her boots, her voice dropping to a quiet, vulnerable whisper that sounded entirely foreign to the proud woman she used to be. "There was an accident with a water pitcher. I... I exhibited a severe lack of decorum and clumsiness. I simply chose to remove myself from the situation before I caused any further inconvenience to her."
Lin looked at her sister, then back at Kuvira, a slow, incredibly rare smirk spreading across her scarred face. "Clumsiness? You? The woman who can catch a flying dagger just admitted to being clumsy around a court assistant?" Lin shook her head, letting out a dry, rumbling chuckle. "You're not clumsy, Kuvira. You're completely distracted. I've seen rookies in the Republic City police force act exactly like this when they get partnered up with someone they've been staring at in the locker rooms for six months."
"Lin!" Su gasped, though she couldn't hide the delighted laugh that escaped her lips. Kuvira felt entirely exposed, stripped of her titles, her armies, and her pride, standing before the family she had once betrayed while harboring a massive, humiliating crush on the one person who had shown her unconditional kindness. "It is not appropriate," Kuvira said softly, her emerald eyes glassy with a mixture of raw longing and deep seated guilt as she looked out over the large windows. "She is here because it is her duty. She looks at me and sees a patient, a broken soul that needs guiding. I am a convicted felon, Su. I shattered this nation. To harbor these... these ridiculous, selfish feelings for someone so entirely pure and untouched by my sins... it is a dishonor to the grace this court has shown me."
Su’s smile faded, replaced by a profound, gentle seriousness. She reached up, gently cupping Kuvira's cheek just like you had done in the courtyard weeks prior. "Healing isn't just about paying for your crimes, Kuvira. It’s about allowing yourself to be human again. You are allowed to love. And from what I have seen over the past month, that young woman doesn't look at you like a chore. She looks at you with an immense amount of care."
Before Kuvira could digest Su's words, the heavy metal doors at the far end of the terrace slid open.
You walked out, holding a freshly dried ledger and a small basket of seasonal moon peaches. You had been looking down at the paperwork, but the moment you heard the murmur of voices, you looked up, your face instantly lighting up with that warm, effortless smile that always made Kuvira's knees feel entirely weak. "Oh, hello, Su, Chief Beifong," you said cheerfully, stepping forward with a light, easy grace. Then, your eyes locked onto Kuvira, and your smile softened into something incredibly tender and concerned. "Kuvira, there you are. You ran out so quickly, I wanted to make sure you didn't leave your notes behind. I brought some fruit, too, since you barely touched your lunch."
Instantly, the atmosphere of the room shifted. Lin crossed her arms, watching the interaction with an intensely amused, observant silence, while Su stepped back with a knowing nod, giving the two of you space.
Kuvira froze, her breath catching in her throat as you stepped into her personal space. The proximity was intoxicating; the cool air seemed to vanish, replaced by the sheer, overwhelming warmth of your presence. She looked at the basket of peaches, then at your gentle hands, and finally up to your eyes. Her heart was hammering so loudly she was absolutely certain the Beifong sisters could hear it ringing off the metal walls.
"I... I am grateful for your diligence," Kuvira managed to say, her voice dropping an octave as she desperately tried to sound like the poised, formal woman she desperately wished she could be for you. She reached out to take the ledger, her movements intentionally slow, agonizingly careful to ensure that her fingers didn't accidentally brush against yours this time. "You did not need to follow me. I am perfectly capable of retrieving my own materials."
"I know you are," you said softly, tilting your head, completely unaware of the absolute war raging inside her chest. You reached out, your fingers lightly touching the edge of the heavy textbook she was still clutching like a shield, gently nudging it down so you could see her face properly. "But I wanted to. You seemed really stressed back there, Kuvira. If I did something to make you uncomfortable, or if the pace of the parole reviews is getting to be too much, you can tell me. I’m here to help you, always."
Kuvira stared at you, her green eyes wide, completely captivated by the earnest, unshakeable devotion in your gaze. She wanted to drop the book, reach out, and pull you into the quiet safety of her arms. She wanted to tell you that the only thing making her uncomfortable was the terrifying reality of how much power you held over her heart without even trying. But the intense shyness slammed right back into her, making her throat dry.
"You have done nothing wrong," Kuvira whispered, her voice thick with an emotion she hoped you wouldn't fully understand just yet. She quickly averted her gaze, staring intensely at a distant metal dome across the valley to hide the deep crimson blush rising on her cheeks. "The... the fault is entirely my own. I merely require a moment of quiet reflection. With the book."
You smiled, a soft, affectionate chuckle escaping your lips as you shook your head at her stubborn formality. "Alright. I'll leave you to your quiet reading. But eat the peaches, okay?"
With a cheerful wave to Su and a respectful nod to Lin, you turned on your heel and walked back toward the silver doors, your light footsteps echoing peacefully down the hall.
Kuvira watched you go, her eyes tracking every single movement of your retreating figure until the metal doors finally slid shut, cutting off the warmth of your presence entirely. The moment you were gone, she let out a long, heavy, utterly pathetic sigh, her shoulders slumping.
From behind her, Lin took another slow, deliberate sip of her tea. "Yeah," the Chief muttered dryly. "You're completely doomed."
Author's Note
Oml I love Kuvira so much, she got me in a chokehold like the rest💔 I genuinely do enjoy creating Kuvira x Fem readers a lot, I could make this as a lil scenario series thingy. Oh Kuvira my most beloved 😣 I wished people made more fics of you 🙏
Anyways 💔 here's my master list for more content ^^
╰┈➤ Once the wedding celebration starts to dim down you and Aang now can wind down during your honey moon after weeks of organizing, planning, and inviting
Tags: fluff, late night chats, follow up scenario, Author feels lonely again
︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ୨୧︶
The midday sun beat down on Ember Island, casting a brilliant golden glow over a secluded rocky cove hidden far beyond the main beach resort. Free from the joyful chaos of the wedding reception, the world had finally shrunk down to just the two of you. A small, open air cabana sat nestled against the dramatic volcanic cliffs, draped in soft yellow and deep crimson silks that billowed languidly in the tropical sea breeze.
He was sitting on the edge of a wide wooden deck overlooking the water, his formal wedding saffron robes replaced by simple, loose fitting linen trousers. His bare feet dangled over the edge, toes occasionally skimming the cool water below. Hearing your footsteps on the smooth wooden planks, he turned his head, a soft, instantly relaxed smile lighting up his face as he looked up at you.
"I was starting to think you got caught by Sokka," Aang teased, his voice dropping into that warm, intimate register meant only for you. He reached out, his hand instantly capturing yours and pulling you down onto the cushion right beside him. "He was looking for someone to rate and debate on a scale if he should buy that thing his been eyeing at the market ever since we got here, just like the bag way back when we travelled to that village near Mt. Makapu and I knew if he found you, I wouldn't get my wife back for hours." Aang huffed out an airy chuckle.
You let out a soft laugh in response, leaning comfortably into his side as his arm immediately wound around your waist, holding you close. "I managed to dodge him by using Suki to distract him." You smiled and chuckled, reaching up to gently trace the blue arrow tattoo on the back of his hand.
Aang’s shoulders shook with a silent, delighted chuckle at your confession, his fingers tightening warmly around yours. "Smart move," he murmured, his gray eyes sparkling with sheer amusement. "Remind me to thank her later.."
He shifted his weight, pulling you even closer until the side of your face rested right against the soft curve of his shoulder. The contrast between you was a familiar, comforting rhythm the natural, deep warmth radiating from your body melting perfectly into the cool, refreshing sea breeze that Aang subconsciously pulled into the open air cabana. Up here, away from the grand expectations of the Fire Lord's court and the watchful eyes of the global delegates, the realization of what had just happened over the last few days finally started to settle into the quiet spaces between you.
"You know," Aang whispered softly, his thumb tracing smooth, comforting circles against your hip, "I spent so long trying to make sure everything was perfect for today. I wanted the Fire Nation traditions to look flawless for your parents, and I wanted the Air Nomad customs to feel genuinely honored. But sitting here right now? I realize I could have married you anywhere else, and it wouldn't have changed a single thing."
You smiled against his skin, your fingers still tracing the clean, blue lines of the arrow tattoo on the back of his hand. "And yknow..honestly... it's just so incredibly good to finally have you all to myself. No treaties to sign, no regional disputes to mediate. Just... my wife."
He breathed the word out gently and smoothly, a quiet, breathtakingly soft smile breaking across his features. He said it again, lower this time, leaning his head down so his forehead brushed against yours. "Wife. Wow. It still feels like a beautiful dream I'm waiting to wake up from. But your hands are on mine, and you're right here, and I get to keep you forever."
"I am right here," you murmured back, your heart doing a happy, erratic flutter at the raw devotion shining in his gaze. "And for the record, you did an amazing job with the protocols today. Don't stress too much about making things perfect, I truly...truly appreciate all that you do and I am glad to have you as my husband.."
With a subtle, completely effortless flick of his wrist, Aang let a tiny current of wind roll across the deck. It caught a handful of pink hibiscus petals that had drifted near the cushions, sending them into a slow, elegant, swirling movements in the space right between your faces. He watched the petals spin, his eyes softening into a look of deep, helpless captivation that was entirely directed at you.
"Monk Gyatso always taught me that the wind survives by remaining completely detached, moving freely from place to place without ever locking onto one spot," Aang said, his voice dropping into a deeply earnest, quiet tone. "And I lived like that for a really long time. But then you came into my life with all your sparks, your beautiful, stubborn heart, and a flame that didn't go out. You anchored me, and for the first time in my life, I didn't want to fly away anymore. I wanted to build a home. Right where you are."
Your chest swelled, a sudden wave of intense emotion catching in your throat. You didn't answer with words at first; you let out a soft, steady breath, sending a tiny, perfectly controlled spark of golden flame to catch the center of the spinning petals. Aang’s gentle air current immediately fed the spark just like at the altar, transforming the little vortex of flowers into a beautiful, glowing halo of warm amber light that illuminated the sharp lines of his face and the bright blue of his tattoos.
Aang didn't say another word. The helpless, completely infatuated grin returned to his face as he closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a deep, lingering kiss that tasted of sweet tropical fruit and the salty sea air. The glowing circle of petals drifted harmlessly to the deck as his hands moved up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs wiping tenderly across your skin to keep you fully present in the quiet, night.
Author's Note
AAAHH hey guys, this is like a follow up to my other Aang post, anonymous requested a follow up fic to it so here it is 😋
Anywayz go check my master list for more content okaiiu bai
Sooo I saw Lin Beifong's name in your LOK masterlist and no stories with her yet... Would you be willing to write for her? If so, I have a request 👀
I was thinking of a concept set during the moment that Amon takes away Lin's bending. Funnily enough I haven't seen many people address this very traumatic experience of hers in the fics I've read. It broke my heart to watch that scene where her bending is taken away :') got me wishing to just hold her close and not let go.
So I was thinking, maybe the reader is the one that finds Lin after it happens, and Lin is a little lost and disoriented and becomes all emotional without saying much, and reader puts two and two together and just holds her tightly. Later on, reader takes Lin to her home, refusing to leave her alone even for a moment. But despite being exhausted, Lin can't sleep, keeping waking up from nightmares/memories. And she's only able to sleep in reader's arms 🥺🤏🏻. Bonus points if we have a subplot going on of Lin and reader already having been dancing around their feelings for each other, but Lin never gave in because reader is considerably younger than her and it caused Lin to hesitate. But now, all those feelings come crashing down and she is all that Lin wants.
Thank you so much in advance, I feel like you're such a perfect person to write this idea because I'm positively obsessed with how you portray the emotions of your stories 💞💞
Unravelled | LOK
Lin Beifong x Fem Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Requested
╰┈➤ After facing Amon in person Lin's bending has been stripped away. Leaving her disoriented and dazed, not even knowing how to properly react to such. Even though Lin doesn't show it through intense actions and words, it's evident it had a physiological impact on the night [Your Name] found her.
Tags: internal shock, Lin not being as responsive, age gap, comfort if you squint, slight mention of power imbalance, brief mention of a nightmare, Lin softening up
︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ୨୧︶
The air in that alleyway smelled like burnt metal, a bitter, heavy smell left behind by the Equalists' weapons. You found her slumped against a stack of wooden crates, tucked so far into the shadows of the brick wall that you almost missed her.
She wasn’t moving, and for a terrifying second, your chest went entirely tight because you couldn't see the rise and fall of her shoulders. Lin Beifong—the woman who usually walked through Republic City like she owned every cobblestone beneath her boots now looked incredibly small. She wasn't wearing her heavy metal armor. It was just her dark, flexible under-suit, torn at the collar and coated in a layer of gray dust. Her graying hair had completely fallen out of its usual tight bun, hanging in damp, messy strands across her face. When you rushed over and dropped to your knees right in front of her, she didn't even flinch. Her hands were resting palms up on the dirty cobblestones, her fingers twitching just a tiny bit, as if her muscles were firing commands that the earth simply refused to answer.
"Lin?" Your voice cracked, loud and desperate in the narrow space. "Lin, look at me. Come on..."
Her head moved slowly. It wasn't her usual sharp, commanding jerk; it was heavy, her neck barely supporting the weight. When her green eyes finally shifted to your face, your breath caught in your throat. The fierce, stubborn fire that usually defined her was completely gone. They were wide, blank, and glassed over. She was looking straight at you, but it felt like she was looking through you, staring at the phantom image of Amon's hand.
You looked down at her twitching fingers, then back at her blank face, and the realization hit you like a physical blow to the stomach. Without saying a word, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her tightly against your chest.
Normally, Lin would have shoved you off before you could even get close. She was the Chief of Police, older than you, and fiercely protective of her own boundaries. Whenever you had tried to get close to her in the past, or whenever the tension between you grew too thick to ignore, she would build a wall. She used her age and her rank like a shield, keeping you at a distance because she thought she was too hardened, too tired, and too old for whatever raw emotions you brought out in her. But right now, she didn't push. The exact second your arms locked around her shoulders, her forehead dropped heavily into the crook of your neck. Her fingers balled into the fabric of your jacket, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned white, pulling herself to the only solid thing left in a world that had suddenly gone completely soft and quiet.
Getting her back to your apartment was a long, silent ordeal. She walked beside you like a ghost, her boots dragging against the pavement, completely lacking that familiar, heavy rhythm she usually had. You kept your arm firmly around her waist, guiding her through the dark back alleys, and she just let you do it without a single protest. When you finally shut the apartment door and turned the lock, the silence inside felt suffocating. You led her over to the bed and gently guided her to sit down. She just sat there on the edge of the mattress, her arms hanging loose at her sides, staring blankly at the floorboards. You knelt down and unlaced her boots, pulling them off and setting them aside. You walked into the small kitchen, poured a glass of water, and brought it back, pressing it into her hands. She held it with both palms, but she just stared into the glass, watching the water ripple from the slight shaking in her fingers.
"Lin," you murmured, sitting down right next to her and gently taking the glass back so she wouldn't spill it. "You need to lie down. Try to get some sleep. I'm right here.."
She didn't look at you, but when you pulled back the blankets, she let you guide her down onto the pillow. She was incredibly stiff, her shoulders tense and her jaw locked tight. You pulled the heavy quilt up to her chin and then lay down on top of the covers right beside her, close enough that her shoulder pressed against yours. For a long time, she just stared at the ceiling, her breathing shallow and uneven, until exhaustion finally forced her eyes shut.
But she couldn't stay under.
Maybe two hours later, the quiet was interrupted. Lin didn't scream or panic; instead, she bolted upright in bed with a sharp, choked gasp, her chest heaving violently as she fought for air. She sat rigid against the wooden headboard, her jaw clenched so tightly the muscles in her neck strained. Her hands clamped onto the mattress, her fingernails digging deep into the fabric, trying to force a vibration out of the room, trying to find any kind of signal from the stone to tell her where she was.
"Lin! Lin, hey, look at me, it's me," you said quickly, sitting up and moving right into her space.
She didn't look at you. Her eyes were wide, staring fixedly at the far wall, her entire body locked in a desperate, silent struggle to regain her footing. She was trying to force the panic down, trying to claw her way back to the stoic, unyielding Chief of Police, but her hands were trembling so violently they were practically vibrating against the sheets. She was wide awake in the dead of night, completely haunted by the ghost of what she had lost, refusing to acknowledge the emptiness but entirely consumed by it.
"I'm fine." She gritted out, her voice tight, a forced edge of authority cutting through the rough rasp. "I'm fine. Just... give me a second."
"Lin, stop it," you said softly, ignoring her stiff posture and moving closer. You didn't care about her usual rule. You reached out and placed your hands firmly over her trembling wrists so she could feel the steady, solid reality of your touch. "It's just me... We aren't out there anymore.."
She froze, her chest still heaving, her eyes finally snapping to yours. For a long, agonizing moment, she resisted. Her jaw remained set, her shoulders tense, every muscle in her body fighting to maintain the armor she had worn for decades. She looked at you and you could see the lifetime of hesitation in her eyes, the stubborn pride that told her she doesn't need to lean on anyone, let alone someone she was supposed to protect.
But the trembling in her hands wouldn't stop, and as she looked into your eyes, the rigid lines of her face finally began to soften. The stubborn set of her mouth gave way, her shoulders dropping an inch, then two. The heavy weight of pretending simply became too much to hold.
Without a word, Lin leaned forward, her forehead coming to rest heavily against your shoulder. She didn't cry. There were no tears, no broken sounds, just a long, ragged exhale that sounded like a collapse. Her arms crept around your waist, pulling you flush against her with a desperate, crushing strength. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her grip tightening until it was almost painful, transferring all of her silent, unspoken agony into the pressure of the embrace. You wrapped your arms tightly around her back, locking her in, rocking her slowly as she held onto you like a drowning woman.
The years between you didn't mean anything.
Her title didn't mean anything.
You were the only thing keeping her from spinning off into the dark.
What almost felt like forever, the rigid tension completely left her body. Her breathing gradually synchronized with your own, settling into a deep, steady rhythm. The aftershocks of the trauma finally broke, cooled down by the constant, unyielding pressure of your arms around her. She didn't pull away. Instead, she shifted closer, tucking her head under your chin and keeping her arm tightly over your chest. Safe in your grip, protected from the memories, Lin finally closed her eyes and fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
The morning sun hit the bedroom floor in harsh, bright angles, cutting through the quiet haze of the room. When Lin first stirred against your chest, she didn't move for a long time. Her arm was still heavy over your ribs, her breathing slow, but you could tell by the sudden rigidity in her muscles that she was awake. She was processing the reality of the daylight. Slowly, she untangled herself from you and sat up, her back to you, staring at her own hands.
There was no sigh, no dramatic gesture. She just sat on the edge of the mattress, the graying strands of her hair falling over her face, staring at her bare feet on the wooden floorboards.
"Lin?" you asked softly, sitting up behind her.
"I'm up," she grunted, her voice thick with sleep and rough around the edges. She stood up, intending to face the day with her usual brisk stride, but the moment her feet fully took her weight, she swayed. Her knee buckled slightly, her hands instinctively throwing themselves out to catch a balance that used to come from the vibration of the earth under the floorboards.
You caught her by the elbow, your fingers gripping her arm firmly before she could stumble.
Lin stiffened under your touch, her jaw clenching as she stared at your hand on her arm. For a second, that familiar, stubborn pride flared in her green eyes, the old Chief of Police who didn't need a hand, who didn't want a junior officer, someone seeing her falter. She pulled her arm back, a fraction of an inch, about to tell you she was fine. But as she looked at you, looking at the quiet, unblinking determination in your face, the fight drained out of her. Her shoulders dropped.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice dropping to a low mumble. "Just... stay there for a second."
She let you keep your hand on her arm as she took her first conscious steps across the room. It was agonizingly slow. Every step was deliberate, heavy, and frustratingly uncoordinated for someone who used to glide across metal cables.
When you reached the kitchen, she sank into one of the wooden chairs, leaning her elbows on the table and rubbing her face with both hands. The silence between you wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either; it was the heavy, exhausting quiet of two people adjusting to a completely rewritten set of rules.
"I'll make some coffee," you said, moving toward the small stove.
"Make it strong," she replied, not looking up from the grain of the wood.
You busied yourself with the kettle and the cups, giving her space to just exist without being watched. When you brought the mug over, you noticed her reaching for the salt shaker on the center of the table. Her fingers closed around the ceramic shaker, but her grip was clumsy, her spatial awareness warped without the subtle metal signatures she used to detect without looking. The shaker tipped over, clattering against the table and spilling white grains across the dark wood.
Lin froze. Her hand stayed hovered over the spilled salt, her knuckles tightening into a white fist. The sheer frustration radiating off her was palpable, a quiet, boiling anger at her own body.
You didn't make a big deal out of it. You didn't offer a pitying look. You simply grabbed a damp cloth from the sink, sat down in the chair next to her, and began wiping the salt away.
"It's just salt, Lin," you said quietly, keeping your tone even, matter-of-fact.
She watched your hands move, cleaning up her mess, and let out a long, slow breath through her nose. "I feel like ..dead weight. I feel like I'm wearing lead boots." You reached out, placing your hand over her fist on the table, gently prompting her to uncurl her fingers. "I don't know how you are exactly feeling... Or what you have witnessed.. But I assure you that you are not dead weight.. And I'm not just saying that..." You looked up at her eyes searching and finding that Lin you've come to know.
Lin looked down at your hand covering hers. Months of her pushing you away because she thought she was too hardened for you, it all felt incredibly distant now. She flipped her hand over, letting her fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand with a firm, grounding pressure.
She sucked in her pride, her green eyes finally meeting yours, completely stripped of her walls. "I don't know how to be... this."
"You're still Lin Beifong," you told her, holding her gaze, refusing to let her look away. "And I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
She didn't say thank you—that wasn't her style—but the way her thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand was more than enough. For the first time since you found her in that alley, the tension around her eyes eased, accepting that she didn't have to carry the weight of the city, or her own shattered identity, entirely on her own.
Author's Note
Yayay^^ first Lin Beifong request (・∀・) tysmmm anonymous for this amazing request ^^ this is actually my first time writing about Lin, I've always read fics/scenarios but never really wrote one myself, but I did enjoy writing this =]
╰┈➤ Concept of a yandere alphabet: It is a format that breaks down the psychology and behaviour of a "yandere" character across 26 prompts from A-Z
︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ୨୧︶
A – Affection (How does she show affection?)
Highly practical and disciplined. She provides the finest luxuries her empire can offer—custom metal armor, private quarters, and personal security. She expresses love through absolute protection and total integration into her daily military routine.
B – Blood (How messy does she get?)
Extremely clean. She is a dictator, not a chaotic slasher. She prefers bloodless neutralization, using her rapid-fire metal bands to pin rivals down. If blood must be spilled, she delegates it to her loyal military forces so her own hands stay clean for you.
C – Clingy (How attached is she?)
Stoic but omnipresent. She will not constantly smother you with physical affection, but you are required to be by her side at rallies, military briefings, and dinners. Her presence is heavy, looming, and inescapable.
D – Domestic (Do they want a family/home life?)
Yes, but on her terms. She envisions a highly structured, flawless domestic life inside a secure stronghold like Zaofu. Any children or home routines will be managed with strict efficiency.
E – Esteem (How does she view her darling?)
She views you as her ultimate prize and her equal in importance, if not in authority. You are the gentle peace she fights for, the only person allowed to see her vulnerability when her commander’s facade drops.
F – Fight (How does she handle a rival?)
Like a political dissident. She doesn't throw public tantrums; she quietly abuses her power. Rivals are blacklisted, reassigned to distant, dangerous outposts, or sent to reeducation camps under the guise of "national security."
G – Game (Is it a game to her?)
Never. Kuvira is intensely serious. To her, securing your love and loyalty is a critical strategic campaign. She calculates every move, conversation, and restriction to ensure you stay dependent on her.
H – Hell (What is her worst nightmare?)
Abandonment. Because her biological parents cast her aside as a child, you leaving her or betraying her trust will completely fracture her composure, triggering a cold, ruthless lockdown.
I – Ideas (What is her ideal relationship?)
You standing proudly beside her as the Consort of the Earth Empire. She wants a relationship built on absolute loyalty, order, and mutual respect—where you willingly accept her absolute authority over your safety.
J – Jealousy (How jealous do they get?)
She will not yell; her eyes will simply narrow, and her posture will stiffen. The person who made her jealous will find themselves facing the full, intimidating weight of the Supreme Commander's military pressure by sunset. She just makes herself incredibly intimidating towards that person.
K – Kisses (How does she kiss/show physical intimacy?)
Dominant and possessive. Her touch is firm, often grabbing your jaw or waist to anchor you to her. Her kisses are a silent reminder of exactly who you belong to.
L – Love (What kind of love does she have?)
Authoritarian and protective. It is a "velvet glove over an iron fist" dynamic. She genuinely believes she is doing what is best for you, completely blind to how her suffocating control might be harming you.
M – Muzzle (Will she restrain her darling?)
Without hesitation. If you try to run, she will comfortably pin you to the floor or wall using metalbending. You will be placed in a high security, platinum reinforced room where your movement is entirely subject to her permission.
N – Naughty (How does she punish disobedience?)
Through cold isolation and the stripping away of privileges. If you break her rules, she will restrict your visitors, lock down your quarters, and treat you with a chilling, detached military discipline until you submit.
O – Oppression (How much does she restrict freedom?)
Totally. Your schedule, your friends, your diet, and your location are all logged by her intelligence officers. You live in a beautiful, luxurious cage that is heavily guarded.
P – Patience (How patient is she?)
Extremely patient when executing a plan, but entirely impatient with emotional defiance. She expects her orders to be followed immediately and will swiftly crush any rebellious attitude with cold logic. (#my brat tamer gf😣 srry gang I'll continue writing 💔)
Q – Quiz (Does she test your loyalty?)
Yes. She will create subtle trials such as leaving an exit unguarded or asking your opinion on a political rival to see if you choose her over the outside world.
R – Regret (Does she ever feel guilty?)
Rarely. Just as she justified crushing cities for the "Great Unification," she justifies her tyranny over you as a necessary evil to keep you safe from a chaotic, dangerous world.
S – Stalker (How does she track you?)
Through state-sponsored surveillance. She doesn't hide in bushes; she uses a network of military spies, guard patrols, and scout airships to ensure you are never truly alone. Connections are indeed powerful and she fortunately has those privileges to surveillance.
T – Tears (How does she react to your crying?)
It softens her iron exterior, but it does not change her mind. She will wipe away your tears and hold you tightly, whispering that she takes no pleasure in locking you away, but that you "forced her hand."
U – Unfair (How hypocritical is she?)
Completely. She is allowed to have secrets, command armies, and make life-altering decisions for both of you. You, however, are expected to have absolute transparency and zero independent secrets keeping just one would not do with her, it's just best to be as transparent with her.
V – Value (How far will she go for you?)
She would divert an entire military division or utilize her spirit-vine weaponry to retrieve you if you were taken from her. You are worth more to her than the crown of the Empire.
W – Wit (Can you outsmart her?)
It is incredibly difficult. Kuvira is a master tactician who anticipates her enemies' moves three steps in advance. Any escape plan you concoct will likely be predicted and countered before you even attempt it.
X – XoXo (What is her soft side like?)
Rarely seen, but incredibly intense. When you are entirely alone in her private quarters, the rigid commander melts away. She will rest her head on your shoulder to lazily play with your hair, letting out a rare sigh of relief, exhausting her heavy burdens only to you.
Y – Yearn (How does she handle long separations?)
Terribly. If military campaigns keep her away from you, she will demand daily, detailed radio reports on your well-being. Her focus on the battlefield will noticeably sharpen, driven by a desire to crush her enemies quickly so she can return to your side.
Z – Zenith (What is the absolute breaking point?)
Seeing you actively side with Team Avatar or the rebel forces against her. Believing that the one person she trusted has betrayed her will trigger a terrifying psychological break leading her to permanently lock you away in a hidden underground bunker, ensuring no one else can ever look at you again.
Author's Note
AAAAHHHHH MY GF KUVIRAAAAAA. I LITERALLY LOVE HER SO MUCH EVERY TIME I SEE HER ON SCREEN I JUST EXPLODE. I NEED HER BRUV LIKE LOOK AT HER. IDYDHSJJD IM FOAMING AND DROOLING FOR HER GANG. 😣😣😣
LOOK AT HER AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DUVDNFIDHDHDHFHD
Anyways... Don't forget to check out my master list for more content^^
╰┈➤ Mako comes home late after a long gruelling shift, sluggish and desperate to crawl into bed he forced himself to push forward knowing that his home is just right there.
Tags: tired Mako, Slow hungry kiss, needy Mako if you squint your eyes, fluff, inspo from a song, computa! Search up Mako x reader 😣
︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ୨୧︶
The front door clicked open at exactly 2:14 AM, letting a draft of crisp autumn air into the silent apartment. Mako stepped inside, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of a twelve-hour shift that had dragged him through the worst parts of the city. He moved with a practiced, heavy quietness, unbuckling his utility belt and setting it on the entryway table with a metallic thud. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he kicked off his boots. He expected the apartment to be pitch black, but a soft, golden sliver of light cut across the hardwood floor from the living room.
When he rounded the corner, he found you curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket with a book resting open against your lap. His chest tightened with a familiar, magnetic pull. No matter how chaotic, dark, or fractured the world outside felt, this room and your presence was the anchor that kept him grounded. He stood in the archway for a moment, just watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, letting the lingering adrenaline of the streets finally drain out of his system.
"You're still up," Mako said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that cut through the midnight stillness. He walked over, the hardened exterior of a city police officer completely melting away with every step he took toward you. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, leaving it completely disheveled as he looked down at you with heavy, tired eyes. "I told you not to wait up for me. The precinct was a mess tonight."
You looked up, closing the book and offering a soft, knowing smile. "You know I can't sleep properly until you're back anyway. Come here."
He didn't need to be told twice. Mako sank into the couch beside you, the cushions shifting under his weight. He didn't care that his black undershirt still smelled faintly of coffee and cold asphalt; he just needed to be close. He leaned forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the comforting, warm scent of your skin. His large, calloused hands found your waist, gripping you tightly through the blanket as if ensuring you were actually there and not just a dream he conjured up after too many hours on patrol.
"The city was a mess tonight," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and uneven. Outside, he had to be the law, the enforcer, the man completely in control of every dangerous situation. But here, in the dark, under the quiet watch of the moon, he willingly surrendered all of that power to you. "Too many problems. Too many people running. I just wanted to get back home to you."
You ran your fingers through his hair, gently massaging the knots of tension at the base of his skull. You felt him shudder slightly, his grip tightening just a fraction more as he let out a long, ragged exhale. "You're safe now," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "The shift is over, Mako. Let it go."
Mako pulled back just enough to look at you, his amber eyes reflecting the dim glow of the single lamp. There was a fierce, loyalty burning in his gaze, a look that told you he belonged entirely to you in these late night hours, completely removed from the badge he wore during his shifts. He reached up, his rough thumb gently tracing your jawline, his touch incredibly tender despite his size.
"I mean it," he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours with absolute sincerity. "I mean it when I say I only want to go back home—to you."
He leaned in, and when his lips finally met yours, the last remaining walls of his composure crumbled entirely. The kiss began with the heavy, desperate exhaustion of his work, a breathless collision of cold night air and the sudden, burning heat of your mouth. Mako let out a strained groan softly against your lips, the sound vibrating deep in his chest as he shifted his weight, crowding your space and tilting his head to deepen the angle. His calloused hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling firmly into your hair to hold you exactly where he wanted you.
It wasn't a gentle kiss, but it was profoundly reverent. It was the way a starved man holds onto something his been waiting for. He parted your lips with a quiet, demanding intensity, tasting of faint coffee and the bitter chill of the streets, but everything about the way he moved against you was pure fire. His other hand gripped your waist through the blanket, pulling your hips flush against his until there was absolutely no space left between you. He drank in your warmth greedily, his breaths coming faster, matching the sudden, erratic thumping of his heart against your ribs. Every touch communicated what he couldn't put into words, that the world outside was a chaotic mess, but you were his absolute truth.
When he finally broke the kiss, he didn't pull away far. He rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily in the quiet room. His eyes were still closed, a soft, content smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips as his thumb gently stroked the flushed skin of your cheek. For Mako, the world outside these walls could spin entirely out of control, but as long as the moon brought him back to this room, he had everything he ever needed.
Author's Note
Hey guys😋 whoa Mako content !!!
This guy did stuff in the show I did not like but goodness brochacho is majestic looking 😣 I've been seeing a lot of Tiktok videos with "My Moon My Man" song playing in the back and I had an idea of a lil scenario for all my Mako freaks out there🙏 I hope you guys enjoy this one cuz I enjoyed making this 🤤
Don't forget to check out my master list for more content ^^
And since you're open to write for her, I'd love to place a request of my own! Because I was recently watching season 3 of lok, specifically the episode where they arrive in Zaofu, and it genuinely breaks my heart to see how stressed, anxious, and hurt Lin is in this episode. 🥲
So I'd love to read something about the reader noticing right away how uncomfortable Lin is on their way to Zaofu and when they arrive, and as the day passes, she's the only one to actually ask Lin if she is okay/what's bothering her (because I swear to god, everyone was complaining that Lin was being rude and what not and yet no one thought of asking her whyyyy, I'm gonna cry). Anyway, Lin tries to brush away her worry, of course, but I'd love to see a few endearing moments between them as reader tries to find out what's going on (tho I don't imagine them dating yet, maybe there's some unspoken feelings there, love the she's younger than me, I shouldn't feel this way about her trope with Lin 🤭)
Anyway, one of the main scenes I'd love to see is during the moment when Korra takes Opal to try and talk to Lin, and Lin just basically yells at Opal to go away lmao, and Korra says that Lin will always be just a bitter lonely woman. But then Lin turns her back to them, and after they leave, we have that heartbreaking shot of Lin quietly crying :( and that's where I'd imagine the reader arriving; Lin didn't hear her coming in, maybe she just feels reader's gentle hands on her shoulders. And Lin sorta panics, trying to tell her to go away too. But reader doesn't leave, instead she talks gently to Lin, telling her to calm down and that she's okay, basically just trying to comfort Lin :') and she eventually pulls Lin into a tight hug, and maaan, Lin tries to fight it, but eventually she just breaks down on that embrace; finally breaking from all the hurt of the memories of the past, from all the loneliness she's been feeling, and from how much she'd been craving someone who'd care about her.
You can decide how to go from there, I just really wish I could comfort her in that moment. Because she was hurting so much, and no one cared 🥲🥲
Girl I'm sorry, this got long. I thank you so much already ❤️
Right Through | LOK
Lin Beifong x Younger Fem Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Requested
╰┈➤ The struggle of facing a family member Lin Beifong hasn't seen in a long while especially if things ended on bad terms made her feel rather anxious. She may never admit it out loud but the subtle tremors and the heavy gaze in Lin's eyes showed everything. No one noticed, except [Your Name]. And Lin despised that you could see right through her tough stubborn exterior.
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, emotional breakdown, mentions of family issues, age gap, unspoken feelings/pre-relationship, stubborn characters falling in love
︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶︶ ⏝ ୨୧︶
The air inside the metal airship felt thick, almost suffocating, but nobody else seemed to notice. Team Avatar was grouped together near the front windows, as they talked about the metal city of Zaofu. They were completely oblivious to the rigid, trembling figure sitting at the very back of the cabin.
You kept your distance, but your eyes never left Lin. She was sitting so stiffly her spine looked ready to snap. Her armored hands were clenched tightly on her lap, the metal creaking slightly under the sheer pressure of her grip. Every few seconds, her gaze would dart out the window, a flash of pure, unadulterated dread washing over her sharp features before she quickly masked it behind a scowl.
You stepped away from the loud chatter of the kids and walked down the narrow aisle. The metal flooring clinked beneath your boots, a sound that usually made Lin look up immediately, but she was too trapped in her own mind to notice until you paused right beside her seat.
"Hey," you said softly, keeping your voice low so it wouldn't carry over the hum of the engine. "You're gripping your knees so hard you're going to dent your armor, Chief."
Lin flinched, her eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a fraction of a second, you saw the raw panic in them, a vulnerable, wide eyed look that completely shattered her fierce exterior. Then, just as quickly, the walls slammed back down. She furrowed her brow, glaring at you as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
"I'm fine," she barked, her voice raspy and tight. "Go back to the rest. They're loud enough to wake the dead, and I don't need you adding to the noise."
"They're just excited," you replied gently, not letting her harsh tone push you away. You leaned your hip against the empty seat across from her, crossing your own arms. "But you're not. You look like you're heading toward a firing squad. What's going on..?"
Lin turned her head away, staring fixedly at the metal wall. Her jaw flexed, the muscles tight. Inside, her chest was aching, a familiar, terrifying heat blooming in her throat. She hated how easily you read her. She hated that out of everyone on this miserable trip, you were the only one who actually looked at her—really looked at her—instead of just reacting to her temper.
And more than anything, she hated the dangerous, soft ache that pulled at her heart every time you got this close. 'She's too young,' Lin reminded herself brutally, the thought repeating like a cruel mantra in her head. 'You're an old, hardened cop with a complicated family and a bitter life. She shouldn't be wasting her time on someone like me. Don't do this to her.'
"There is nothing to talk about," Lin snapped, her voice dropping to a harsh, final whisper. "I don't want to be here. This place is a mistake. Just leave it alone."
You watched the subtle tremor in her hands before she tucked them under her arms, hiding them from you. You wanted to reach out, to place a hand over hers, but you knew she would completely retreat if you pushed too hard right now. "Alright," you murmured, keeping your tone steady and reassuring. "I'll give you your space. But I'm right here if you change your mind."
When the airship finally docked in Zaofu, things only grew worse. The city was a marvel of silver domes and blooming green gardens, a paradise of metal and innovation, but to Lin, it was a prison of memories. Suyin, her estranged sister, materialized with open arms, surrounded by her beautiful, perfect family. Lin immediately bristled, her words cutting and bitter, refusing every ounce of hospitality thrown her way.
As the hours passed, the tension grew palpable. During lunch, Lin sat in stony silence, shooting daggers at Suyin until she eventually stood up and stormed off, leaving a cloud of awkwardness behind.
"I don't get what her problem is," Korra grumbled, tossing her napkin onto the table with an annoyed huff. "Su is incredibly nice."
"She's not being rude just for the sake of it, Korra," you said, your voice sharper than usual, drawing surprised looks from the rest of the table. "Something is seriously wrong.."
"Oh, please," Korra scoffed, rolling her eyes. "She's just being Lin."
You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing your chair back. "None of you are even trying to understand," you muttered, standing up and leaving the dining hall before anyone could argue. You stepped aside to calm yourself before you go back and check on Lin. After a few minutes you pushed yourself to search for her.
You made your way to the upper levels of the estate, your chest tight with a heavy, anxious weight. You didn't like the way Lin was hurting, and you disliked how people just dismissed it just like that. As you approached the room where Lin was isolating herself, you paused around the corner, catching the sound of footsteps and voices. You stayed back, not wanting to barge in if she was finally opening up.
Lin was inside, sitting rigidly as a sudden knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?" Lin called out, her voice taut with irritation.
"Hey, it's me. I brought someone who wants to talk to you," Korra's voice echoed through the entryway as she opened the door, with Opal appearing right behind her.
Lin didn't stand up. She just stared at them with a heavy, guarded exhaustion. "You want to talk? Then talk."
Opal took a hesitant step forward, holding her hands together, her voice incredibly soft and full of genuine hope. "I'm sorry being here has been so hard for you. When you showed up, I was so excited to get to know you. I heard so many great things about you from mom and Grandma Toph. So, I guess I was kind of sad you didn't want to know me."
Lin looked on, her expression darkening, visibly annoyed as the mention of her past and her mother rubbed against her raw nerves.
Opal pushed through the tension, smiling weakly in an effort to bridge the massive gap between them. "Believe me, I know my family can be a little crazy and overwhelming some times. But I would love it so much if you would be a part of it."
Lin’s gaze snapped up, utterly cold and unyielding. "Get out."
Opal froze, entirely shocked, her voice faltering as her eyes widened. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"
"Get out!" Lin seethed, her voice suddenly booming with a terrifying, raw fury that shook the quiet atmosphere of the room.
Opal burst into tears as she turned her heel to leave the room as quickly as possible, Korra watched Opal helplessly, her own temper instantly flaring at Lin's total hostility. She stepped deeper into the room, crossing her arms and directly approaching Lin.
"What's your problem?" Korra shouted, her voice thick with aggression. "Don't get mad at Opal. I asked her to talk to you because I thought it would help you snap out of whatever funk you're in. But I guess I was wrong."
Lin glared up at her, her jaw clenched so tight the muscles in her neck strained, her voice dropping into a dangerous, protective venom. "Why don't you focus on fixing the world, and stop trying to fix my family?"
Korra’s expression hardened into something incredibly bitter and disgusted. She leaned forward slightly, delivering her words like a physical blow.
"Su's right. You're never going to change. You're always gonna be a bitter, lonely woman."
With that final, devastating sentence, Korra turned around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Lin stood entirely frozen as the heavy echo of the door faded into dead silence. The fierce, angry mask she had worn for decades suddenly cracked, crumbling away to reveal the agonizing pain underneath. She turned her back to the door, walking slowly toward the far wall, her head dropping low.
And then, the formidable, untouchable Chief of Police began to shake.
A choked, quiet sob broke from her throat, a sound so filled with loneliness and unraveled grief that it made your own heart break in your chest. She pulled her hands up and covered her face, her shoulders heaving as she wept silently, completely shattered by the weight of her past, her regrets, and the cruel truth of Korra's words. She believed them. She truly believed she was meant to be lonely forever.
You couldn't stay hidden for another second. You pushed the door open quietly, your footsteps entirely silent on the smooth floor. You closed the distance between you, your heart aching with a fierce, protective instinct.
Slowly, carefully, you reached out and placed your hands on her trembling shoulders.
Lin gasped, her entire body tensing like a coiled spring. She hadn't heard you approach. She instantly tried to pull away from your touch, twisting around to face you, her eyes red, swollen, and wet with tears. She looked utterly exposed, and the sight of you seeing her like this sent a wave of sheer panic through her.
"No—get away from me!" Lin choked out, her voice cracking as she pushed weakly at your chest. "Go away! I told you to leave me alone!"
" Did you not hear her? I'm bitter, I'm miserable, I'm—"
"Lin, stop."
you said, your voice incredibly gentle, yet completely strained slightly. You didn't step back. Instead, you moved closer, absorbing the weak blows of her hands against your chest.
"No! Just leave. Why won't you just leave me like everyone else?" she cried out, her voice dropping into a desperate, broken plea.
She was fighting you, but she was also fighting herself. She hated that she wanted you to stay. She hated how desperately her empty arms wanted to hold onto you. It terrified her how much power you had over her frozen heart. 'I'm going to ruin her,' she thought frantically. 'I'm going to drag her into my miserable dark world.'
"Because I can't stand to leave you like this," you whispered.
Before she could push you away again, you stepped entirely into her space and wrapped your arms tightly around her waist, pulling her rigid body firmly against yours. You buried your face into the crook of her neck, holding her with everything you had.
Lin froze instantly. Her arms stayed pinned between your chests, her hands clenched into fists against your shirt. Every instinct she had developed over fifty years told her to push you off, to use her bending, to scream, to run. She tried to stiffen her spine, tried to pull back, her breathing shallow and frantic.
"Let go," she muttered, a pathetic, weak attempt at her usual authority. "Let go of me..."
"It's okay," you murmured against her skin, soothingly rubbing your hand up and down her back, finding the spaces where she felt warm and human. "You're okay, Lin. I've got you. I'm right here."
That was the breaking point.
The decades of keeping her walls up, the suffocating weight of her mother's shadows, the agonizing betrayal of her sister, and the sheer, crushing loneliness of going home to an empty apartment every single night, it all came crashing down at once.
Lin’s fists opened, her fingers clutching desperately at the fabric of your shirt. Her forehead dropped heavily onto your shoulder, and she finally let go. A loud, ragged sob tore out of her, vibrating against your chest. She collapsed into your embrace, her knees buckling slightly, entirely dependent on you to keep her standing.
She cried like a child who had been lost in the dark for years, her hands gripping your back so tightly it was almost bruising. She didn't care about her pride, or her title, or the fact that she was supposed to be the unbreakable Chief of Republic City. All she knew was the warmth of your chest, the steady beat of your heart, and the unbelievable, intoxicating realization that someone was actually holding her because they loved her. Someone was holding her because they cared that she was bleeding inside.
"I'm sorry," she wept, her voice muffled against your shoulder, her tears soaking into your clothes. "I'm so sorry... I'm so messed up... I didn't want to... I didn't want to need anyone..."
"Shh, don't apologize," you whispered fiercely, tightening your grip on her, resting your cheek against her dark, graying hair. "You don't ever have to apologize for hurting.."
You held her there in the quiet room for a long time, shielding her from the rest of the world, letting her wash away years of buried agony in the safety of your arms. And as her sobs slowly began to quiet into steady, deep breaths, Lin kept her eyes closed, tightly holding onto you, silently hating how completely she had fallen for you and desperately praying you would never let her go.
The heavy silence of the Zaofu guest quarters was broken only by the rhythmic, distant hum of the city’s metal domes closing for the night. Inside the dimly lit room, the air felt cooler, stripped of the suffocating heat of the afternoon's breakdown. Lin sat on the edge of the low bed, her back curved in a rare posture of total exhaustion.
You walked over from the small washbasin in the corner, carrying a fresh cup of hot water infused with a few crushed mint leaves you’d managed to find in the estate kitchen. When you set the cup down on the small table beside her, the soft clink of ceramic against wood made her flinch slightly.
"You should drink something..." you said, your voice barely above a whisper, keeping the same gentle cadence that had anchored her hours before. "Your throat has to be raw."
Lin didn't look up at you. Her hands were braced on her knees, her eyes fixed entirely on the polished floorboards. "I don't want it," she muttered, her voice raspy, holding a rough, defensive edge that lacked any real bite. She swallowed hard, her jaw flexing. "You should be asleep. You shouldn't even be in this room right now."
"I'm not going to leave you alone after today, Lin," you replied, ignoring the dismissal as you sat down on the low wooden stool a few feet away from her. You didn't push into her personal space, giving her the room she clearly felt she needed now that her armor was back on. "Whether you want to talk about it or just sit in silence, I'm staying."
Lin let out a sharp, bitter breath through her nose. The vulnerability of the afternoon was morphing into something dangerous, a heavy, suffocating wave of guilt. Every time she closed her eyes, she didn't just see her mother or Suyin anymore; she saw the image of herself completely unraveled, weeping into your shoulder, clutching your shirt like a terrified child. The memory made a hot flash of shame burn through her chest.
"That's exactly the problem," Lin said, finally snapping her head up to glare at you, though her eyes were still rimmed with a faint, telltale red. "You shouldn't be staying. You shouldn't be playing nursemaid to an old woman who can't keep her own damn head straight."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" you asked softly, meeting her fierce gaze with steady, unwavering patience. "Playing nursemaid?"
"What else do you call it?" Lin barked, standing up abruptly. She began to pace the short distance between the bed and the window. She wrapped her arms tightly across her chest, her fingers digging into her own biceps. "Look at you. You have your whole life ahead of you. You're... you're young. You should be out there with the Avatar and the rest, enjoying whatever peace this world has left, not hiding out in a dark room with a bitter, broken chief."
She stopped by the window, her back to you as she stared out at the silver plates of the city dome. Her shoulders were rigid. "I'm fifty years old," she whispered, the words sounding heavy, like a confession she hated making. "I have a lifetime of scars, a family that I barely see, and a temper that drives absolutely everyone away. You... you shouldn't be wasting your time on me. I shouldn't have let you hold me like that. It was a mistake."
The words stung, but you could read the panic beneath her harsh delivery. You stood up from the stool, walking slowly toward her until you were standing just a step behind her right shoulder. You could feel the heat radiating from her metal armor.
"Korra was wrong, Lin," you said, your voice cutting through her spiraling thoughts with absolute certainty. "And you're wrong right now. I don't look at you and see a bitter old woman. I see someone who has spent her entire life protecting everyone else, carrying a weight that would have crushed anyone else, and never asking for a single thing in return."
You reached out, your hand hesitating for a fraction of a second before you gently placed your fingers against the bare skin of her neck, just above the loose collar of her top.
Lin caught her breath, her entire body freezing at the contact. She didn't pull away, but you could feel the frantic, rapid pulse beneath her skin.
"I'm not here because I feel sorry for you, and I'm not here because I'm playing a game," you murmured, leaning in slightly closer so she could hear every word. "I'm here because I want to be. With you. I don't care about the age gap, and I don't care about the scars. You think you're going to drag me into some dark world, but the truth is, Lin... you're the only person I want to be next to.."
Lin closed her eyes tightly, her head tilting back just a fraction into the warmth of your hand. A shaky, uneven breath escaped her lips. The logical, hardened part of her mind was telling her to push you away right now, to save you from her baggage, to protect her own heavily guarded heart from the agonizing fear of letting someone in. But her heart—the part of her that had been starved for affection for decades was screaming at her to turn around and pull you back into her arms.
"You're a fool,"
Lin whispered, her voice cracking as she fought the terrifying, beautiful ache blooming in her chest. She turned around slowly, her dark eyes searching your face, filled with an unspoken, heavy longing that she still couldn't bring herself to fully put into words.
"A complete fool."
"Maybe I am"
You replied, not moving your hand from her neck, your thumb lightly tracing her jawline.
Lin stared at you for a long, agonizing moment, her gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. She reached up, her rough, calloused hand gripping your wrist tightly, not to pull your hand away, but simply to hold it there against her skin.
"Just... don't make me regret this,"
Author's Note
WAAAHHH it's finally done^^ sorry if this took a while anonymous (´-﹏-`；) ahaha, I always try my best to make whatever I write long because I do get lazy at times and I'm trying to like discipline myself to not be lazy when it comes to writing 😞
Anyways! Thank you so much for this wonderful request ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡ don't forget to check out my main master list for more content ^^
