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#did he snap at any other soldiers offering to help him carry the weight

tone-stark · 2 years

Text

Dark Paradise (Song Fic)

Summary: You deal with Tony's death after his sacrifice.

Warnings: Mentions of Death/Dying/Suicide, Overdose (Intentional), Depression, Angst, Implicit Smut

Pairings: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

A/: Possible grammar mistakes. Wrote this piece two/three years ago, so bear with me please. Need to get this out somewhere so this is it. My PC died this week once and for all so I edited this thing at work in a tablet 😰

Bold Italics = Lyrics // Only Italics = Flashbacks or Hallucinations

▪︎

It's been three years since the snap that saved the universe and destroyed your world. Gratitude and grief were never two feelings that went together, but life finds a way. After a while, you choose which one will weigh more on your heart. You watched as the world rose from destruction, sadness and death. Families came together again, finding in each other the strength to carry on. Houses and buildings were rebuilt and people eventually returned to the hurried pace of work that was once so typical of New York.

In conjunction with the governments that were left, the Avengers helped with what they could, after all, they felt like they had to. You and Rhodes were responsible for planning and financing the constructions, with the help of Maria Hill, now in charge of Damage Control, who was responsible for the entire logistical process necessary to make everything happen as and when it should. Bruce, Shuri and Dr. Cho, took turns as they helped in both the healthcare and technology sectors, providing fast and optimized care with the best equipment Wakanda had to offer, putting the best minds on the planet to work for the benefit of humanity. Sam and Barnes commanded the search teams for survivors amid the rubble left at the end of the battle and, together with T'Challa, guided the remaining soldiers around the globe to carry out this arduous work of reconstruction, reporting the situation of all countries back to HQ so that you and Rhodes could take the next step to help them.

All the remaining members of the Avengers, and even the unofficial ones, protecting their identities, set out to perform some role, as Parker once said, with great power comes great responsibility, and that was it. Despite the exhaustion that the fight brought, there was no time to rest like Rogers did, with so many problems to be solved, so many lives that had been lost and were now without any idea of what to do, the blame fell on the heroes' shoulders. Our own grief aside, we couldn't just stop, curl up in a corner and cry grieving over what we've suffered, what we've lost. Nothing had changed, it had always been that way.

At least he wasn't here to carry that weight like he always did.

All my friends tell me I should move on

I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song

Ahh

That's how you sang it

After all the work, you were back at the lake house, untouched for years. You didn't know if you would go back until you were there physically, actually feeling your shoes stepping on the concrete path to the small porch at the front door, taking in the surroundings and feeling the light breeze of the lake on your tense face as the familiarity returned to you. Noticing the structure of the cabin collecting dust as you walked to the door, staring, frozen in place, at what the harsh sunlight had created on the once-smooth surface of the wood, until you finally had the courage to open it.

Rhodes said you had a place in the compound, that you didn't have to stay in the cabin, alone, just with the memories that once made your chest ache with love and now only brought you grief.

But how to tell him that loneliness was now your best friend. You got used to it.

Often, you would find yourself sitting on the shore of the lake, remembering the day when everyone gathered to watch as you put his heart in the water and let him go away. It was a beautiful day despite everything, everyone was there to offer their condolences and a tight hug with a small smile, to try to make you feel a little better. It didn't, but you appreciated the intention. The thought of that day was that at least now he could really rest in peace, unlike you.

After years, you were tired of hearing your friends telling you to move on, like everyone else did. In your head, Rogers' voice echoed, optimistic and hopeful soldier, always trying to sound stronger than he really was. Who did he think he was kidding? He didn't move on, after all. If the perfect example of man didn't do it, you didn't have to. The only difference was that you wouldn't have the chance to go back in time to be with the love of your life.

There's no way to forget, not when his face is everywhere, in art on the walls, in library books, in television documentaries, hell, even on sex shop banners. You couldn't get away, it's like the world is chasing you with his image, not letting you get over it. You walked down the street and people stared at you, as if they felt sorry, as if they felt guilty for being happy while you were never more hollow.

For a while, you thought Peter Parker understood you, at least a little... but eventually, even he moved on. You couldn't blame him. And while a selfish, obnoxious part of you wished he hadn't, just to make you feel better about still feeling the loss after so long, the other part was proud. It made you smile a little. Tony would be proud...

The same thing couldn't be said about you...

Loving you forever can't be wrong

Even though you're not here, won't move on

Ahh

That's how we played it

If you weren't crying on the couch or in bed, you'd spend your days reading the huge collection of books left in the cabin and sometimes, you attended monthly meetings between active Avengers, just to give a sign of life to your friends otherwise they would worry too much and you didn't want that. Talking to Friday was a another welcome distraction and also, the only thing that kept you minimally updated on the world's news and everyday life. Maybe the AI wanted to keep you from falling into the hole once and for all, who knows... Tony's AIs always looked more human than an AI should.

For the first few months back at the cabin, you made an effort to keep yourself busy, tending to the property in general, the gardens, the porch, the garage, and the rooms. Always, your cleaning routine ended up in the same room, the one you were remodeling with Tony. It would be a nursery room. You always liked to prepare everything in advance, and while you tried in bed, being the passionate optimist, you thought that making this room together with Tony would strengthen the relationship and at the same time prepare for an evolution, from just husband and wife to father and mother, somehow. A silly thought.

You would have loved to have a child with Tony, raise him in that peaceful place, far from the evil of the world, just the three of you and the alpacas. But, now as you mopped the floor thinking about it, you were thankful it hadn't happened. The garden and the alpacas, which Rhodey forced you to keep, were enough, you wouldn't know what to do with a kid without him here. Looking at a miniature of your husband running around the house would be too much for you, a daily reminder that your love was no longer there, and honestly, you couldn't take care of a child in your condition.

And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody

It won't leave my head

Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine

But I wish I was dead (dead, like you)

On certain occasions, while walking around the house, you would hear his voice calling you, you would look back with a smile until you saw nothing and remembered what had happened. Other times, you'd be in the garden when you'd hear him laughing, happy he'd finished a project, you'd run inside to congratulate him with a kiss, and find the hologram table dusty, and long untouched. You were sure you were going crazy. The isolation from social life and the constant memory of his face haunted you. During the day you could at least bear it, doing chores around the house and outside, but at night, when you felt obliged to lie in the bed you both shared one day, for the rest your body begged you to, you lived a sweet nightmare.

Lying in bed, which as incredible as it may seem, still carried his scent on the sheets and pillows, or was it just your head playing tricks on you, you wouldn't know... You try to go to sleep every night, in his clothes, hugging the blanket that he loved, and sleep doesn't come easily, he doesn't get out of your head, he doesn't let you sleep.

Every time I close my eyes

It's like a dark paradise

no one compares to you

I'm scared that you

Won't be waiting on the other side

He never liked to sleep, he would wake up sweaty and scared, with no air in his lungs, held back by the pressure of fear in his chest. Now it was your turn, but unlike him, waking up wasn't a relief. In fact, it was more like a fever dream.

Every time you closed your eyes he was there, trying to comfort you, pulling you into a world you couldn't reach. Calling you, saying how good and quiet it was, how much he wanted you by his side.

You tried to reach him, you could feel his fingertips, you could hear his breathing closer, but at the same time his voice farther away, begging you to find him. He was there? You didn't know for sure, and you didn't have time to find out. Reality tugged at you hard, determined to remind you that he wasn't there to hold you in his arms.

Your screams could be heard for miles, echoing through the house and through the forest. Your chest ached and your eyes stung with tears, you trembled as you tried to breathe and sweat clung to your skin as you repeatedly murmured, "Tony, Tony, Tony..." as if it were a call to summon him. You murmured into the pillow you clutched to your chest, praying, to whatever god out there, to bring him back just one more time.

Every time I close my eyes

It's like a dark paradise

no one compares to you

I'm scared that you

Won't be waiting on the other side

All my friends ask me why I stay strong

Tell 'em when you find true love, it lives on

Ah, ah, ah, ah

That's why I stay here

"(Y/N)? Hey, (Y/N)? (Y/N)!"

The distant voice took you out of your sleep. You blinked, trying to focus your gaze on the silhouette of the man in front of you. You didn't know how long it had been since you were sitting in the armchair on the porch, the last thing you could remember was a message Friday played for you from Rhodes saying something about paying you a visit, at least now, his sudden presence made sense.

"Hey, Rhodes, how are you?", you tried a smile as you rubbed your eyes trying to get the remnants of the heavy sleep out of you.

"I should ask you that. How's it going? You still remember Bruce and Bucky, right?", you looked in the direction he pointed, noticing the two men standing shyly behind him.

"Sure... hey boys," you waved lightly as you stood up. "Come on in, I'll make us some coffee," you offer opening the front door, letting them pass.

The three nodded and walked in behind you without comment. You led them into the kitchen without losing the look in your eyes that surveyed the state of your house and out of the corner of your eye you could see the three men looking at each other knowingly. You ignored them and the moment you reached the kitchen you started making coffee while the men sat at the table. An uncomfortable silence reigned in the room as they waited.

You're not stupid, not even in your current condition, you can feel the looks on your back, the silent judgment about your appearance and noticeable weariness. The bags under your eyes were the first sign that not even makeup could cover up, not that you were trying. Followed by extreme thinness and apathy more than clear in your vacant gaze. Your friends were worried and rightly so, but again, you ignored them.

You regularly let yourself be carried away by memories, losing track of time and space, you didn't hear things right away and your reflexes were slow, nothing like your good days, when you were normal and functional. Bruce had to get up from his chair to turn off the fire from the stove, breaking your trance.

"Thanks", you thank him weakly looking at him for a second and picking up the kettle to finish the coffee, using the task to occupy yourself and try to mask your delusions. "You're welcome," he smiles sadly at you, returning to the chair he occupied, glancing at the other two guests, and shaking his head in hopeless defeat.

With coffee served, the four of you sat at the table, no one uttering a word for a few minutes and you were sure that if this continued you would get lost in your thoughts again. "So...", you said while taking a sip from your cup, hoping it would give you some courage and stop you from fidgeting with nervousness, "why this visit?"

"Say hello, and to see how you're doing...", Bucky replied with a faint smirk, shy as usual. You looked at him, trying to match his smile, "Hi... I'm getting by...", you replied hesitantly, not sure what to say exactly, it was an awkward exchange.

"Right...", Bucky concluded, lowering his head and looking at the hot liquid in his own cup, deciding to take a sip. Knowing the soldier next to you, he was probably just as nervous as you were, just following your lead to try to ease the tension in the room.

"You're not okay, (Y/N), clearly you're not. And we all know why...", Bruce finally ripped the bandaid without any care.

"Okay…", was the only thing you managed to say, in a weak, almost shaky voice, kind of surprised that he got straight to the point.

"Okay? Is that it?!" Rhodes suddenly asked yelling, looking up as he threw his arms wide in frustration. You were slightly startled by his outburst, you swallowed hard when you realized he wanted an answer. Looking into his best friend's helpless eyes, about to cause more needless anguish to such a good man. He didn't deserve this, he'd already been through so much.

"What do you want me to say?

"Anything! You can't go on like this anymore (Y/N), I know what you're going through, he was my best friend long before this superhero shit, he was my brother. You weren't the only one who lost him, you know?"

"You don't know what I'm going through...", you muttered under your breath trying not to show how his words affected you. You knew you weren't the only person who'd lost him, hell the world had lost him. But it was different for you, you couldn't help it, you loved him so, so much, to lose him like that. He sacrificed himself so many times, always thinking of others, never of himself. You never got used to the hero life he led despite understanding and never failing to support him. Rhodes was a soldier long before he became War Machine or Iron Patriot, it wasn't the first time he lost someone on the battlefield, he understood that that was the risk and even then he thought it was worth fighting, maybe because of that, it was easier for him to move on, but it didn't work that way for you.

"Fine, not completely, but... (Y/N), you need to get over it, get on with life! Live! Would he want that for you? For you to stay like this?", Rhodes tried, sighing deeply. He pointed to the signs of depression in your body and the mess the room behind him was in, giving you more than one reason to hear what he was saying. You thought about his question for a moment, remembering the distant voice calling to you, the feeling of being so close. Yes, he wanted you with him, you had to try.

"I love him Rhodey... I always have... I always will", you ended the conversation looking at your friend's face, tears threatening to fall but leaving no room for further arguments.

Defeated, Rhodes looked at Bruce and Bucky, seeing the resignation, sadness and pity on their faces. They had already accepted the situation long before Rhodes invited them to come with him. Returning his gaze to your weak and tired figure, he tries one last time, not really believing the attempt.

"Come back to the compound with us?"

Dropping a tear, your lips tremble as you try to speak, you take a deep breath with your eyes closed, trying to compose yourself a little, you had enough time to break down later.

"I can't... you know I have to stay... I'm really sorry..."

And there's no remedy for memory

Your face is like a melody

It won't leave my head

Your soul is haunting me and telling me

That everything is fine

But I wish I was dead (dead, like you)

He grabs your waist and sets you down on the metal table, the sound of your laughter echoing through the lab as he plants kisses on your neck and you grab his silky hair between your fingers.

"I love you," you hear him whisper in your ear, tickling you lightly with his goatee. You grab his face and bring it close to your lips, whispering back the confession, stealing a kiss from him before letting the feeling consume you in a carnal act.

"Friday..."

"Yes, Ms. Stark?"

You stare at the screen in front of you, breathing hard, you're short of breath. With your voice caught in your throat and failing to hold back your tears, you ask Friday to please turn off the recording. You're sick of torturing yourself for today.

"Whatever you want, Ms. Stark"

"Stop calling me that!" you lose control with the AI, slamming your hands on the holographic table in a sudden fit of rage.

"My apologies (y/n). I'm programmed by Mr. Star-"

"Shut up!", interrupting the AI before she could pronounce his full name. You close your eyes, sighing and letting your body fall into the armchair behind you, hoping the soft upholstery would take some of the tension out of your shoulders, as you rub your hands together to ease the irritating pain your punch has brought you.

一

"Shit"

"Language", you tease smiling, not letting your eyes fall from the page of the book in your lap. When no sarcastic comments came in, you bookmarked the page and got up to find him.

"Hey old man, did you lose your hearing? I just quoted Rogers and you didn't say anything, did the cat eat your tongue?", you stopped in front of him with your hands on your hips.

Noting your husband's lack of reaction and surprised face and judging by the lack of answers, you looked away to finally see the holographic model that looked more like a racetrack, frowning in an effort to unravel the design. "What is it?"

"I figured out... I didn't really think it would work but, shit! It did, (y/n), it actually did!"

"What worked?"

"Time travel!", he said excited while he got up and walked towards you, stopping to hold the sides of your arms, shaking you a bit before opening a big smile, making yours appear. "Baby, I'm a genius!"

"Yes, you are, Stark."

You smile even though you know what this discovery means to both of you.

Every time I close my eyes

It's like a dark paradise

no one compares to you

I'm scared that you

Won't be waiting on the other side

There are nights where you can't discern reality, you're sure you were dreaming or hallucinating, but it felt so real. He enters the room, lies next to you on the bed and you can feel his lips on your skin and his big hands on your fragile body, his voice in your ear and his panting breath. He wipes your tears and tells you that everything will end well, you just want it to end.

He's so beautiful, you think as you look at him, the old Tony, in the beginning, when he still looked so innocent, when you could still see the glow on his face, when the world hadn't abused his kindness and sucked all the happiness out of his eyes. That's the Tony looking at you right now. You smile, returning the look with all the affection you can muster up.

Every time I close my eyes

It's like a dark paradise

no one compares to you

But there's no you

Except in my dreams tonight

You decided not to fight it. It's better to watch him sleep in the moonlight than to suffer from the memories of a lost love you'll never see in the sunlight. Waking up with the unending pain in your chest is what helps you discern whether or not you're awake. A consequence of a hole that will never close, in fact it only gets bigger as the days go by, to the point that you can feel like you have nothing left inside you but a void.

You always understood why Tony was popular with women, aside from money of course. His beautiful face is very well structured but with a softness in its lines. With eyes that adapted to every moment, and showed every emotion he felt, the calm river or the chaotic hurricane. It could be adorable or sexy, arouse in you an affection for the man or an insatiable lust.

The smile could make anyone melt, legs wobbly and all you could do was smile back, no man could compare, they tried, but this was Tony Stark himself. His body was well built, strong, smooth arms, big, rough hands that showed the work he did in the workshop, but that touched you like silk or cotton. And his scent was intoxicating, a smell of coffee that he drank often to stay awake, with a hint of whiskey and metal and the typical Tony scent that mingled with the others. How did you miss it...

But you couldn't dare wake him up, so you just watched the perfect shape of his nose and mouth with his lips half open and slightly damp, asking for a kiss. You ran your fingers subtly through his brown hair, slowly scraping his scalp causing him to shift in bed, breaking the walls of limbo.

Your hands met the sheets, wet with sweat. He was not there.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ha, ha, ha, ha

I don't wanna wake up from this tonight

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ha, ha, ha, ha

I don't wanna wake up from this tonight

"Please Tony, please don't!" you begged him not to leave you, to grab your hands and pull you to sleep.

"I'll do anything Tony, but please don't leave me, please don't do this, please!"

He wasn't smiling, he wasn't reaching for you, he wasn't grabbing your hands, he was just watching, motionless. He didn't love you anymore, you thought, he was angry with you for not being by his side, you thought.

一

"Why him?" the always soft voice was now cold, trying not to show how hurt he was.

"Tony, it's the right thing to do. It's not about him or you, but what's right."

"And you think what I'm doing is wrong?", he asks getting up from his chair and walking towards you, stopping in front of you, trying to read the words hidden behind your eyes.

"No. But you're doing it for the wrong reasons."

"What do you mean? Don't you think we're dangero-

"Baby, you're consumed with guilt!" you interrupt him, holding his face with both hands. "Ultron wasn't your fault, you have to let it go. You saved the whole world that day, and like it or not, we can't save everyone."

Tony looked into your eyes, lost, looking for answers where it was impossible to find them, he was seeing Rogers' words coming out of your mouth. He didn't want to argue with you. Ultron was his fault, no matter what the others said.

"I'm not going to fight you, Tony. I'm going to sign, for us, but I won't be by your side, I can't."

There's no relief

I see you in my sleep

And everybody's rushing me

But I can feel you touching me

"I love you, (y/n), never forget."

You heard him say, as he held you and made you feel like you were on clouds, floating, with your eyelids pressed together and your mouth open in ecstasy.

"It's okay darling. Let it go, relax, I'm here"

"Tony… please don't stop," you gasped, almost there.

"I'll never stop, I'll never let you go, I love you, let go, (y/n), let...let go..."

"Tony!"

You couldn't take it one more time, waking up from a dream, you didn't know how much longer you could take this constant torture. The pain was too much to bear, you had no more tears to fall, no strength to get up. You felt drained. You were going back and forth from delusions. Walking around the house like a ghost, you felt closer to him that way.

The flowers in the gardens, which had once been beautiful and glistening in the sunlight, had been dead for weeks, withered petals and withered leaves the only remnants of their existence there. The alpacas carried away, by Rhodes you imagined, keeping them from starvation. The abandoned house at Friday's mercy, the furniture collecting dust again, and the food rotting in the fridge.

Every time I close my eyes

It's like a dark paradise

no one compares to you

I'm scared that you

Won't be waiting on the other side (so tell me)

You were in the kitchen, preparing the last tea you would ever drink in this world. You mixed the white powder with the liquid with a spoon in successive rotational movements, mesmerized by the circling movements.

"(y/n), that amount of pills will-"

"Friday, where is he?"

"Who, (y/n)?"

"Tony"

"(y/n)... Mr.Stark is dead"

"Don't lie to me Friday, where is he? He said he'd be waiting, that everything would turn out fine!"

Every time I close my eyes

It's like a dark paradise

no one compares to you

But there's no you

Except in my dreams tonight

"Hey, you came!"

"Of course I came, Tony."

He finally grabbed your hands bringing you close, resting his hands on your hips.

"I love you", you heard his voice, close, his breath on your face.

"I love you more", you smiled truly, after so long not knowing what it was like to feel happiness.

"Of course you do, my love," he smiled and leaned down to kiss you. And you accepted those cold, morbid lips with urgency, lips that never failed to warm you inside and out, and it wouldn't be now in this dark paradise that that would change.

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Ha, ha, ha, ha

I don't want to wake up from this tonight

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Ha, ha, ha, ha

I don't want to wake up from this tonight

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #stark tony imagine #iron man #iron man x reader #me #my fic #my work

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bestofbucky · 3 years

Text

Smooth Criminal

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: This all started as a dream @velvetcardiganbucky had and it was too good of an idea to pass up. I hope this can make everyone reading it have beautiful dreams of this handsome super-soldier. Thank you @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for beta reading this, you were incredible as always. Divider by me.

Your arms felt like they were about to drop off from the weight of all the grocery bags you were struggling to carry. Luckily, you could spot your trusty jeep not too far away. As you near, you look down to your purse, wondering how the hell you are going to get your keys out without dropping any of the bags. Before you can even start trying, a scraping noise, followed by a low grunt grabs your attention. You look up, attempting to figure out where the noise came from until you spot someone at the drivers side window.

On high alert you step around the side of the car, expecting the worst. You see a man standing there, trying to wedge the door open with a knife. The sight triggers your fight or flight response and unfortunately for you, your body chooses the third, unknown option, freeze.

The sound of bags falling to the floor causes the man's head to snap up towards you. The most beautiful blue eyes are now staring at you causing you to feel extremely self conscious all of a sudden. He stands up to face you, and you get a good look at him. He is tall and extremely handsome, you gulp at the way you can see the curves of his muscles through his clothing.

“Uh, th-that's my car?” Your words come out more of a question rather than a statement.

“No, this is my friend’s car.” He sounds a lot more sure of himself than you do, making you double check that it is your car.

“No it’s not. This is my car, that’s my number plate.” You tell him with slightly more confidence.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his eyes going wide.

You place a few more bags on the ground allowing you to grab your keys and unlock the car. “Yeah I’m sure.” You tell him. His face blushes red as he realises it is in fact your car.

“Uhh, I guess I should go find my friend’s car then.” His eyes scan the parking lot for another jeep.

“If it’s your friend’s car, then why are you breaking into it?” You question, not really believing the guy is telling the truth.

“This is going to sound bad. My friend, he had to leave and the spare set of keys is in the glove compartment.” He tries to explain but you don’t believe his story.

“How did your friend leave? Surely they would have needed their car?” You question.

“Uhh, he uh. He flew?” He says almost as if he doesn’t believe his own words. “It sounds completely ridiculous I know, but it’s all true.” He scratches the back of his head and it’s only then that you notice he has a metal arm.

You relax, you have seen that arm on the news, instagram, twitter. Basically any social media platform where fans can thirst over someone, you have seen that arm on it.

“Well, my parents told me never to talk to strangers, and definitely not to offer rides to strangers, but something tells me that you, Sergeant Barnes, are safe. Would you like a ride to wherever you need to go so you don’t have to break into your friend’s car?” You smile at him and see that he visibly relaxes.

“Yeah doll. I would like that a lot.” He offers you an award winning smile and you quickly look down at the floor to stop yourself from swooning.

Two feet come into your vision and you look up, coming face to face with the Avenger. “Please, call me Bucky.” He winks before leaning down to grab some bags to place in the trunk.

Breathe. You tell yourself as you feel your cheeks go red. You don’t know how you are going to survive this drive, being in such close proximity to the god of a man you have just met.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” You turn around to find Bucky leaning against the now closed trunk of your car, the bags all inside. You take a deep breath before getting in.

“Where am I going?” You ask and he tells you the address.

Setting off you both fall into silence. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable in fact it’s actually quite nice. Eventually you find yourself wanting to know more about the sexiest man you have ever seen.

“So...Bucky?” You start awkwardly, he turns to you with a lopsided smirk on his face. “Do you go to that store often?” You cringe at yourself. Did you really just ask him that?

You are brought back to the present moment by the sound of his laughter. It was free and pure and you couldn’t help but admire him for a second. His eyes were crinkled, nose scrunched and he had the most captivating smile spread across his lips. It was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“I can’t believe you just used that line on me.” He says, still grinning wide.

“I can’t believe it either.” You chuckle but suddenly realise you were so distracted by him earlier you never even introduced yourself. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you. You love the way it sounds coming from his lips.

After that you find you both fall into an easy conversation, you tell him all about you, your past, your family and friends and he does the same, obviously leaving out and playing down certain dark parts of his life.

You both seem to have the same sense of humour and spend most of the car journey joking with each other, so much your cheeks are hurting by the time you pull up to the address.

Looking at where you have arrived, you realise it’s the Avengers compound. Once through security Bucky directs you to where you can drop him off. Coming to a stop you look at him, slightly sad that your time together is coming to an end.

“Thank you doll.” He says when his eyes meet yours.

“Well, there would have to be something wrong with a person if they didn’t offer you a ride.” You say, trying to be sincere but realising too late how sexual it sounded. “That's not what- I didn't mean it like that. I swear.” You fumble while Bucky just laughs.

“Maybe next time.” He winks, placing a kiss on your cheek before hopping out the car. You watch as he walks inside, when he finally disappears you bite your lip, letting your head fall onto the headrest behind you. This man was going to be the death of you but you didn’t mind one bit.

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Text

Humans are weird: Shock Troops Part I

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Who will be the last man to die?”

The question boomed throughout the hangar as if fired from a cannon; the sound reaching every soldier of the gathered five thousand regiment even at the very back of the assembly.

Observers and flight deck workers took pause to watch the strange gathering of the 95th Human Shock Regiment as if they were watching the sacred rights of a civilization shrouded in secrecy.

The human soldiers wore thick metal reinforced armor with helmets that obscured their faces. One would be forgiven for mistaking them as mere robots than one of the most feared fighting forces humanity had to offer. They had boarded the transport bound for the frontlines three months ago and had remained in their section of the ship the entire duration. No outsider, safe for the captain of the ship herself, had been allowed to enter as they had posted several guards at every juncture and access passage to their quarters and it was only now on the eve of battle had they emerged and formed ranks in the hangar bay.

The colonel of the regiment stood atop a hastily built platform and looked out over his men. He was Haden Matz, and unlike the others he wore no helmet and the few onlookers could see a face aged by the ravages of war that time itself could not compare. His right eye bore a cybernetic that seemed to move of its own free will, the blue glow at odds with the natural green of his left eye.

“Open your pockets.” Colonel Matz called out, and one by one the soldiers gathered pulled open a pouch on the front of their uniforms and removed a small piece of paper. Matz waited several moments as the rustling of pockets died down and he judged every one of his soldiers had done as he had asked.

“I say again; who will be the last man to die?”

The waiting maintenance crews surrounding the gathering were unsure what this meant when suddenly a lone soldier broke ranks and stepped between the empty rows of soldiers.

Matz saw the soldier and motioned him to the front.

Their footfalls could not be heard of the chaos of the hangar bay as final checks were run on the two dozen transport ships that would ferry the regiment to the battle.

After several seemingly endless footfalls the soldier finally stood before the colonel. They held out their right arm and firmly clenched between their fingers was a strip of red paper.

“Remove your helmet and state your name lad.”

Calmly the soldier reached up with his free hand and undid the straps of his helmet. The armored mask slowly fell away to reveal a surprisingly young face for such an esteemed regiment.

“Private first class Jim Kalvin, sir!” the soldier stated followed with a crisp salute.

Matz returned the salute and placed a hand on Kalvin’s shoulder.

“You laddie have been chosen to be the last man to die,” the colonel said, “do you know what that means?”

Kalvin looked unsure and nervous for a moment as his mouth opened and close, as if the answer was incapable of passing his lips. Matz laughed at the sight and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“It means you will not be joining us on this venture.”

Kalvin’s eyes shot up at this and he made to speak but was silenced by a stare from Matz.

“What we are about to embark on is dangerous beyond measure and could very well see the end of every single trooper gathered here.” He turned Kalvin around so he could see his fellow comrades; countless blank armored faces looking back at him.

“If we all die, then there will be no one to know who we truly were.” The colonel’s voice became very quiet and soft. “No one to remember our traditions, our greatest victories and bloodiest defeats, our true history that defies whatever they write of us in history books to come.”

“We would be nothing but names and numbers on pieces of paper;” the colonel locked eyes with Kalvin and for a moment he could see a hint of sadness in the old commander’s eyes, “except to you.”

“I don’t want this, sir.” Kalvin’s voice was quiet and only the colonel could hear him. “Don’t leave me here.”

Matz’ put both arms on Kalvin and drew him for a warm embrace. “You will have the hardest mission of all private,” he said as Kalvin felt his body going limp at the realization, “you will carry the weight of our memory and if need be, rebuild us anew.”

Matz let go of Kalvin and opened a pouch on his own combat webbing. From it he pulled a small book, the cover and pages worn by the passage of time, and handed it tom Kalvin.

“This will help you along your way,” he said as Kalvin took the book. To his surprise Matz smiled and the private could see a grin that he had never seen before on his colonel’s face. “Take good care of it, I’ll be wanting it back should I return.”

He let out a loud laugh that the surrounding troops echoed. Kalvin joined in with a sheepish chuckle when Matz’s fist struck him across the right side of his face. The blow was heavy and nothing had been held back; the impact alone sending Kalvin sprawling to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Matz watched to see if the private would rise again, prepared to strike him once more, and when he did not he stepped over the unconscious soldier’s body. He raised his left leg high and brought it down hard against the private’s right leg, the heavy combat boot snapping the bone like a dried twig.

With the deed done the colonel motioned for two waiting medics from the ships medical staff to come forward and carry the grievously injured private away before turning back to face his men; his combat helmet tucked under his arm.

“Let no man judge Private Jim Kalvin a coward this day nor any day to come,” the colonel said as he strapped on his helmet and shouldered his weapon, “for though he will not fight beside us he shall no less carry the scars of the battle to come.”

With that the colonel turned around and boarded the first transport ready to launch.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #story #scifi

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

Text

Shield (one-shot)

Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.

Word count: 3591

I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D

P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.

P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.

P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.

He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.

Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well.

A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them

But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.

Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground.

There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...

Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”

But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”

His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”

Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”

“You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”

And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.

Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.

“Who are you?” he whispered

“A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.

“I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”

Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”

He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

“And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”

“Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy.

“I told you she was going to be fine.”

Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.

“We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.

“It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”

“It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.

At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.

“She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”

Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees.

When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick.

He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.

A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words.

“I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”

Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth.

“It’s been a while since a hit like this.”

Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”

Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?

Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic.

It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.

“Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.

He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”

He hated that he was right.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.

But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.

Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town.

Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.

Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.

The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.

“Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”

Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

“He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed.

Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”

Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.

Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt.

“When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”

Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”

“They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’

“That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”

Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.

“Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”

Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.

“They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.

“They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”

“How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time.

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”

“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”

Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”

“What he’s doing is not right. What they’re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”

“It’s the price I pay for what I did.”

“Pain?”

Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”

Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”

“How else am I supposed to do this?”

“By getting help yourself first.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“

“What’s rule number two?”

“Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”

Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”

“Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”

“Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”

Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.

“They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”

“It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”

Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”

She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”

Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.

After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.

Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.

Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift.

A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.

They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him.

He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.

Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.

Bucky smiled.

Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.

Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.

_________________________________________________________________

Please reblog if you like this. For whatever reason my Bucky fics aren’t appearing in the tags :(

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Bucky tag list: @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea @california-grown @belongsto-prachi @hello-i-am-insane @hopeinahotbox

Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae

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kylorengarbagedump · 3 years

Text

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 3

Read on AO3. Part 2 here. Part 4 here.

Summary: You always hated tagging along on boys' night.

Words: 3300

Warnings: tw//kassanovella

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: HI LOOK AT ME I GOT THIS OUT IN TIME. I did indeed test positive for COVID so this was wrought through my fatigue--and may be why there is a delay for the next chapter. We'll see!

I hope y'all enjoyed this. I am doing my best to respond to all the feedback, but I'm like... so tired LMFAO. Thank you so much for your support and engagement. It literally means the world to me and is so encouraging.

I love you. ❤️

It didn’t matter how many times you told yourself to calm down. Your pulse bounded like a rabbit, every thump a reminder of your tightening chest. The walls of the Steadfast washed past in black-silver blurs, your mind wild with fear. Hux’s words replayed over and over, a cruel broadcast in your brain. Requests for response from the officers stationed there have gone unanswered.

Realistically, that could mean anything. Pessimistically, everyone was dead and you were homeless.

The thought of losing your crew weakened your knees. For four months, they’d been your solace and something akin to a family. Not like you’d had other real options on that little butthole of a planet--but you’d gotten lucky. You’d made a home out of Orinda; a home where you’d planned to return.

Lip pinched in thought, you joined Kylo in a new turbolift, crossing to the corner again as if he were a disease you wanted to avoid. You folded your arms over your chest, stared at your shoes. If you were homeless, it was anyone’s guess as to what you’d do or where you’d go next. It was clear that your supposed… whatever he was didn’t care for your presence.

Leather gloves scrunched in the silence. The lift arrived, and he stormed off, in expectation that you’d follow. You rolled your eyes, trailing behind him, allowing the need that had burgeoned between your thighs to deflate.

He’d said he would punish you. But you couldn’t think of a punishment worse than going four more months without his touch.

Kylo broke through another set of blast doors into the hangar, officers and Stormtroopers alike snapping to attention in his presence. If he noticed or cared, it didn’t show--he pushed through the quiet floor, furious stride carrying him toward one of the ugliest ships you’d ever seen.

Black durasteel panels formed a long, cylindrical frame, the bow outfitted with a row of rakish teeth and bordered by two guiding flaps. The engines looped like two smooth bricks at the stern of the vessel, the two ends connected by rows of external piping and guarded by a sprinkle of gunning stations. Its blocky build bore a resemblance to a prison transport--if that prison transport was then modified by an eager, unsophisticated halfwit.

He climbed the descended ramp in thundering strides, and you skulked in his wake, only to be greeted with one of the mercenaries you’d seen earlier. You paused, but Kylo passed the soldier, marching toward the stern and abandoning you in the main corridor. The man--at least, you were fairly certain he was a man--wore a mask embedded with breathing tubes, a huge, heavy club in his hands. The weight of his gaze anchored you to the floor. He said nothing.

“Uhm…” You tried to find an introduction, but none seemed appropriate. Grimacing, you offered him a half-hearted salute. “Sir.”

The man did not respond. Face burning, you scurried into the ship, hot on Kylo’s heels.

Few lights rimmed the interior of the vessel, your only guide the resonant thump of his boots along the durasteel slats. It was as dim as it was dank--the deeper you delved, the heavier the air. It was sticky with the stench of war, weighed with iron and brimmed with smoke. And underneath that, a scent you’d only describe as one owned by a pack of panting massiffs.

A chill crept over your scalp. This ship was empty of kindness, barren of mercy. You didn’t need the Force to know that nothing good had ever happened within these walls.

Your fear had you scampering to keep pace. Kylo led you through a flickering hall and turned a corner, swiped a switch. A set of blast doors opened to sharp steps, another pair of doors at the top. Those parted as you approached, light spilling from the Steadfast hangar through wide slats of red transparisteel. You’d arrived in the cockpit.

Six chairs lined the wrap-around dashboard. Two as pilot seats, two positioned at gunning and weapons systems, and two plugged toward the back, each in front of a monitoring station. One seemed to handle communications--or lack thereof, the radio receivers and wiring were all almost entirely torn out--and the other dedicated to internal surveillance. At the latter, a matrix of screens with live feed of the interior of the ship.

Even through the shadowed halls, you could distinguish a handful of prison cells. Each of them was torn apart, littered with metal scrap and half-shorn weaponry. The walls themselves were adorned with sloppy graffiti, one of them decorated by a mural of a massive, five-legged lizard beast. A huge red beam was bursting through its neck. Within the tiny walls were separate collections of cultured artifacts. You knew enough about war to know they were trophies.

Every room also possessed a rumpled, dirty bed. A flash of hall light near one cell, illuminating notches in the durasteel where the head of the bedframe met the wall. Like the frame had been slammed against it. Over and over and over.

You swallowed. On one of the feeds, a body slipped through the hall like a living shade. Pausing, you watched until it disappeared from view. The sound of footsteps whispered, then hummed, then roared. You spun, seeking out Kylo, finding him by the co-pilot’s chair, and darted into the pilot’s spot as if this was a totally normal occasion and you weren’t on a weird deathship surrounded by his weird death bodyguards.

Kylo turned to gaze at you, and the blast doors opened, stealing his attention. In the frame stood another would-be man, outfitted with a ribbed-weave robe and carting a huge plasma rifle. Filth smothered him from his boots halfway up his legs, and his head was obscured by a helmet, not unlike the one you’d known Kylo to wear. This one had two blinders on either side, like this man was a predator.

Like he was a hunter.

Whatever fear you felt for him, he certainly did not feel it for you. He glanced between you and Kylo, trying to ascertain the relationship that resulted in your presence.

“She’s in my seat.” His voice was grainy, like glass on stone, distorted underneath his mask.

You held up your hands in deference. “Hey, sorry. I had no idea this was your seat.” You went to stand, frowning at Kylo, who was studying your every movement. Really had to love how helpful he was being.

“Hurry up,” the man said.

Nodding, you wriggled around the chair with your hands still raised, as if this would offer any form of protection between you and this fully armed guard. He squared his feet and stalked toward the pilot’s seat. You side-stepped him, but he shoulder-checked you despite it, and you stumbled back, wincing.

“What the f--”

Kylo Ren’s saber screamed to life, slicing a divide between the hunter and the chair. He stalled, fists balled, neck rolling to stare at Kylo. You gulped, rubbing your arm, your eyes flipping between him and the crackling rod of plasma only a foot away from the man’s waist.

“Sir.”

“Careful,” Kylo said.

He snorted. “Of a Lieutenant--”

“Kuruk.”

Kuruk pivoted to you, and you met his stare somewhere behind the shield of metal. Whoever was underneath the helmet was rending you apart in his mind.

He shrugged his shoulder and looked back to Kylo.

“Excuse me. Sir.”

The saber disappeared, and Kuruk took his seat at the dashboard. You flushed. At least he’d done that much. You snuck to the back of the cockpit, thinking to sit at the surveillance station, but pausing there too. Every one of these seats could have an owner whose name you didn’t know. Glimpsing Kylo, you threw up your hands in confusion.

Kylo caught this, but did not acknowledge it. “Resistance activity was spotted on the scanners. Get Cardo and Trudgen on the turrets. Ushar gunning.”

“Yes, Master.”

Your eyes widened. Master?

Kuruk fussed with the dashboard, relaying the information, and you gazed at Kylo, examining his body in the same routine you’d practiced nightly with your hands between your legs. Fuck, he was big--the thick expanse of chest rose with a slow breath, and you watched it fall, then watched his neck tense as he turned, attuned to your observation. Heat rushed your spine when you linked eyes. His jaw stiffened.

“Get in your seat, Lieutenant.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Is this my seat? I didn’t know.” You sank into it, shooting him a wide, sparkling smile. “Thank you, Master.”

Kylo swallowed.

The blast doors opened again, the soldier you’d seen at the entrance bursting through and tromping to a gunner console--you assumed this was Ushar. He tossed his club to the side, flicking on the controls and calibrating the sights. The ship itself bellowed to life, rising from the floor, and you gripped the seat, unable to force your focus from Kylo--just as he was unable to force his from you.

The two of you were in competition. That much was clear.

You just couldn’t figure out what the loser would be impaled with--or if that would make them a winner, instead.

The Buzzard shot into the stars, coasting in a direct path toward Orinda. You broke the staring contest, glimpsing the little planet through the cockpit, pulse picking up again. Requests for response unanswered. Once you got on the ground, you’d go find your crew and make sure they were safe. That’s all you needed to know. Whether or not Kylo wanted you to come back was irrelevant.

You met his gaze again, his irises hiding a storm. Blood bit your cheeks.

Mostly.

“Nothing detected on the sensors,” said Ushar.

Kylo glanced at him then turned toward the transparisteel, searing you with a leer before he sat at the dash. You shivered. Whatever you’d done to make him feel this way, his brief glimmers of favor only made it worse. Maybe you did want to fuck him so you could get a chance to figure it out. Or maybe it was just frustrating to know him in ways no one else had while simultaneously knowing almost nothing at all.

The three men operated in silence as you approached Orinda. From space, it seemed normal. With no starcraft popping up, there was a chance it was a false alarm. That it had been a fly-by. You held your breath when you broke the atmosphere, flames whipping the transparisteel. The Buzzard trembled with gravity, diving toward the ground, greens and browns and blues splitting to trees and fields and sea.

Then a flash of light, smog blooming to life, tiny fires swallowing your narrowing field of vision. Air froze in your lungs, nails biting the hard back of the seat.

“Fuck.” You launched from the chair, scrambled toward the dashboard. “No, no no…”

Kylo spun to face you, but you ignored him, shoving between the two pilot seats to crane over the console and peer through the transparisteel.

He stood, looming over you. “Back to your seat.”

His words swum in the tsunami of your mind. The outpost was smothered with smoke. The closer you drew, the dimmer the horizon, until the Buzzard landed on the border of the eruption, the entire sky encompassed with billowing black fog. Every muscle in your chest felt like wire around your ribs, forcing the breath from your lungs. You shook your head, hands starting to tremble.

They were out there. They could be dead.

The blast doors opened, and you whirled to leave, but Kylo caught your shoulder and stilled you.

“What the--”

“Gather the rest,” Kylo said. He was speaking to Ushar. “Spread out and secure the perimeter.”

Ushar nodded, grabbed his club, and disappeared down the steps. Huffing, you wrenched yourself free from Kylo’s grip and stomped toward the exit only to be paralyzed by a very familiar nothing. You growled, unable to even make a fist.

“Dude!”

“You will remain on board the Buzzard until I return.”

The fact you couldn’t turn to look him in the eye made you even angrier. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said. “That’s my crew. They’re my responsibility.”

“Stand down.”

You snorted. “Hell no.”

Two long, slow steps brought him behind you. His presence consumed you like a black hole, crushing you in darkness.

His chest met your back. “Every one of your little quips has gone unchallenged.” Another step, and his mouth fell to your ear. “Do not test me here.”

Warmth flooded your thighs. If he didn’t like being challenged in front of his soldiers, he shouldn’t have put you all in the same space. His own fault.

“I don’t care,” you said. “These are my crew members. You don’t know them. I do. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Why are you even doing this?” you said. “You’re the one who fucking brought me here!”

A pause. Silence settled between you, the only sounds the distant noise of destruction and your anxious, heaving breath. You heard him exhale.

“Kuruk,” he said. “Scout and support.”

Behind you, Kuruk stood, followed by the metal click of him grappling his rifle. You watched, stuck to your spot, as he charged through the cockpit and down the steps. The blast doors to the stairs shut behind him. Then the ones to the cockpit. And you two were alone.

Kylo snarled, snatched your throat--he was a swoop of rage, swiveling and slamming your back to the wall. You seethed, squirming under his grip, unable to hide the smirk curling on your lips as you tried to pry his wrist away. He subsumed you like a star subsumed space, bright hot and pure, and you were a simple nothingness, addicted to his heat.

“You think you have earned my submission,” he muttered. “You have not.”

You wheezed, gazing into his eyes, finding an electric spark of hunger and fury within them. Four months without this had been far, far too long. As long as he was treating you like a stranger, you didn’t want to give in. But that wouldn’t stop you from making this torture for him, too.

“Then what have I earned,” you purred, “Master?”

He sucked in air through his teeth, pinning your body flat--his chest rolled with excitement, his voice raked over lust. “The further you push me, the worse your earnings.”

You bit your lip, bucking your hips against his, feeling a growing bulge between his legs. “You’re ridiculous.” You’d thought he’d wanted you to go to Orinda. Maybe you’d been wrong. “What, is this because I left?”

A huff. “No.”

“Then I don’t get it.” You rolled your pelvis into him again, and he jerked forward, crushing you to the wall. “Why don’t you want me around? What did I do?”

Kylo shifted, panting into your neck, his mouth centimeters from your skin. “Not what you did,” he said, clutching your throat tighter. “What you saw. It will not happen again.”

Some bit of that stung. You saw inside of his mind. “You act like I made you admit it!” It was difficult to speak under the pressure of his palm. “You could’ve just let me go.”

“Hm.” His hand squeezed, and he dragged his hardening bulge along your thigh. “Perhaps I should have.”

So that’s what this was about. Whatever had happened, he’d decided that what he’d shared with you was weakness. And being Supreme Leader meant he couldn’t be weak. Meant he couldn’t have room or time for you. All you were was a living regret.

Frowning, you glared at him, driving your thumbs into the meat of his wrist and throwing his hand from your neck.

“Yeah,” you said, shoving him back. “Perhaps you should’ve.” His eye twitched. A screeching blast broke the air, and you tensed. “I’m going to find my crew.”

You stalked out of the cockpit, blast doors parting for you as you hit the stairs and cut through the halls back to exit the Buzzard. It was one thing to abandon you. One thing to make you leave. One thing to act like he’d never held you, kissed you, or whispered your name.

But it was an entirely other thing to imply he wished it never would’ve happened. The thought pierced your heart, and you steeled your jaw, tried to pull the pain free. You didn’t have time to play Kylo Ren’s newest Game of Repressed Emotion. You had friends to find.

The ramp to the Buzzard was already down, and you hurried to the ground, smacked with the scent of blazing fuel. Embered ash battered your eyes, and you coughed, covering your face with your arm. Under the wailing wind of heat, you heard Kylo approaching the exit, so you trudged toward the outpost, seeking out any hint of life.

“Tonis!” Your voice was eaten by the flames. “Mirna! Lin!” Narrowing your gaze to protect it, you pushed toward the hangar, knowing that if they were anywhere, they’d be there.

Sweat crawled down your nape, scattering over your lower back as you drew nearer to the fire. The mercenaries were nowhere to be found, but you supposed that was okay, since they didn’t seem very fond of you regardless. The hangar was beyond the completely engulfed fueling station and therefore impossible to see, but as you curved around the fire, you could discern slivers of it. Edges of the building, and then whole sections.

And your stomach dropped.

Another couple of steps, only to discover the hangar scorched, collapsed in on itself like a shattered greenhouse. You stopped a scream and bolted, careening toward the wreckage to see if you could find anyone or anything among the debris. Thick durasteel girders stuck out of the heap like nails, the ridged ceiling crumpled in pieces and mirroring the fire’s light.

“Tonis!” Your back burned from the heat, but you didn’t care. You tried to find a way in, a way to pull something apart, a way to find someone. “Mirna!” You grabbed a huge wooden beam, hands slipping on the soot, but you fruitlessly tugged anyway. “Lin!”

A ragged shard of wood ripped your palm, and you shrieked, cradling it to your breast in shock. Cursing, you left the mass alone, following the foundation around the corner, hoping against hope they escaped out of the back and were huddled behind the hangar. You approached the corner, calling their names, louder and louder. They weren’t coming to meet you. Again, and louder, and you turned the corner, pleading with the Force that they’d be there.

Of course, they weren’t.

In front of you was a cluster of discarded starship parts, all outdated or malfunctioned or busted. It was a collection you’d gathered since you’d arrived--arranged and created when more parts were added. Each fragment was unique, and when building it with your crew, it sometimes resembled a sculpture. Under the clouds of smoke, it looked like a pile of junk.

Growling, you rushed it, kicking the base and sending it all tumbling to the ground. Your furious hands found purchase and hurled whatever they had grabbed to pieces. A scream shook your chest, and you jammed your foot against a solar array panel, cracking it in half. Underneath, you found an old, pretty fuelcell splinter. You grabbed it in your bloody hand and hissed, pulverizing it with your fist. Grunting, you threw the dust into the air, watching as the firewind ate it all.

You heard the rustle of grass behind you. Your shoulders sagged.

“There are no signatures of life remaining at this station.”

Sighing, you turned to Kylo. He was watching you, face blank.

“Yeah.” You wiped your palm on your pant leg, smearing it with blood. “I know.”

His eyes flicked to your hand for the shortest, sharpest moment. Then he met your eyes. “The silencer is still in need of repair.”

You frowned, averting your gaze. “I don’t want your pity.”

“You’d prefer to sleep outside in melted trash.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged a shoulder, crossed your arms. “Dumpster fire and all that.”

Kylo Ren held you in his stare, cape fluttering and hair rumpled in the breeze. Tears stung your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

“Come.”

He turned the corner. Clearing your throat of sadness, you followed him. You allowed him to guide you through the devastation, past the flames, and up the ramp until you were safe in the Buzzard cockpit. And then he left, likely to gather his men before departure.

And then you were alone.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren #defy your authority #fya2 #fanfiction problems #COVID CUTIE BRINGING THE CONTENT........

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archonanqi · 3 years

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fragile as dust / 7 - glaze lily

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ch 7 | glaze lily

The next few days passed uneventfully.

You made it a point to meticulously study Zhongli’s every movement, every action, each waking second he was in your sight. Each morning at five, before the sun broke over the mountain peaks, Zhongli would leave the house for about two hours, coming back with breakfast for you both.

As for work — you weren’t sure what his work hours were, but they certainly didn’t seem regular. Occasionally, he would disappear for a few hours on end, and sometimes you swore you heard the floorboards creak late in the night. But other days, he would remain at home all day, drinking his tea and reading various books in the living room you tried to avoid.

A few times, he had offered to bring you into the city to ease your boredom, but you had feigned frailty (though you certainly didn’t feel strong, either) and remained in your room. He seemed content to let you adjust to your new life at your own pace, just as he had promised two nights ago; rarely initiating any interaction with you except to greet you, and to ask about your well-being.

This was, at first, a blessing. You slept in the day, woke at midnight and sat under your covers for hours, examining your Vision in the glow of the oil light. Chasing that feeling that you had felt in your prison that night: the first and last time you had successfully used it. But try as you might, you couldn’t once again find that calm rush that had rushed through your veins and made you feel solid, stable, strong. In fact, with your feet planted on the smooth wooden floor instead of earthy soil, you had never felt further from the element of Geo.

Eventually, your repeated failures began to rouse other thoughts. Were you really so disappointed that every time you threw out your hands, no rocks, no pebbles, not even a speck of dust gathered to bend at your will? Surely this is what you expected — or had you become so blinded by naivety that you’d begun to believe that your possession of a Vision was anything more than a fluke?

Idiot, you thought to yourself, snapping the drawer shut over your Vision in frustration. Your determination had slowly been trickling down the drain, ambitions seeming further and further away with each day you failed to master your Vision. Perhaps a break would do you some good after all.

You wondered idly if Zhongli had already departed for his morning walk. The sky was still immensely dark outside, but without a clock in your room, you could not tell the time. Finally, you gathered yourself and opened the door, unsure whether or not you were hoping for Zhongli to be on the other side.

And so he was, lounging on the sofa in a manner that somehow exuded both tranquility and power. He was holding something large and curved in his hand, which he looked up from at the creak of the door. “Good morning,” he said, and really, it wasn’t fair how his voice still surprised you with its timber. “How are you feeling today?”

“Yes,” you answered without a thought, and felt your cheeks warming. “I mean, I am well, Mr. Zhongli.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He beckoned for you to come closer, and you debated making an excuse and slipping back into bed— except you found your legs moving on their own, carrying you into the living room.

One conversation couldn’t hurt, you thought. Just to understand him a little better.

As you got closer, you got a better glimpse of the strange thing in his hand. It was milky white, tapering off into a dangerously sharp point. Under the faint light, it glinted wickedly. A bone? A weapon?

“What is that, Mr. Zhongli?” you asked in awe and curiosity.

“Ah,” he glanced down at it, as though suddenly remembering he was still holding it. “I found this while cleaning out some old items of mine, and I’m trying to find a place for it. It’s a dragon’s tooth. Rumor has it that it may be from Rex Lapis, himself.”

You inhaled. It was about the size of your hand. How massive Rex Lapis had to surely be, you wondered, trying to imagine a being large enough to fit rows of these into his jaws.

You recalled climbing the hedges of Yujing Terrace in your youth to get a good look at your city’s Archon — it had been too far away to see much, but the awe you had felt at seeing the writhing beast, his scales glimmering iridescent gold in the sun, would stay with you forever.

“How did you get this?” You whispered.

“An old friend,” he smiled that same small, sad smile that you had begun to hate to see. “She thought that it would be funny to give this to me as a gift, considering that I— that I was a devout follower of Rex Lapis then.”

You failed to see how that was funny — it seemed incredibly sweet — but other thoughts came through your mouth before you could stop them. “The same friend who gave you the pure Cor Lapis?”

Yes, the same one who is almost certainly dead and whom you couldn’t seem to stop bringing up to his face?

“The very same,” Zhongli nodded gently. “I would prefer not to display this in the open, yet it would be a shame to hide such a treasure away.” His voice had taken on a whole new dimension, soft and solemn and quiet. You couldn’t bear it, not when nothing else seemed to be able to shake this man.

“If Mr. Zhongli is looking for a place for it,” you had begun to speak before you even realized what you were saying, “there’s an empty spot on the nightstand by my bed. It wouldn’t be hidden away then.” He glanced at you, and you backtracked quickly. “Of course, such a treasure would fair much better by Mr. Zhongli’s side, not in the room of a lowly—“

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Zhongli said, extending the hand holding the tooth towards you. You took it gingerly, its smooth coolness on your fingers electrifying. Zhongli had said it was just a rumor, but you knew without a doubt that you were holding a piece of Rex Lapis. It was much, much heavier than you had expected, you thought, running a finger over its glossy surface and noting each ridge and scratch. How in the world did Rex Lapis even move, let alone fight in the Archon War — let alone win — with so much weight holding him down?

“Well then,” Zhongli said, “I must be leaving for my morning walk. Are you sure you’ll be alright at home, alone?”

The ‘yes, Mr. Zhongli’ was resting on the tip of your tongue, but something else emerged from your lips instead. “Where do you go on your morning walks, Mr. Zhongli?”

Just to understand him a little better, you assured yourself.

He raised a brow at the question — this was the first time you had initiated conversation, after all. “I go to Yujing Terrace. Do you know where that is?”

You nodded, and couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose a little at the name of the most embellished areas of Liyue. Where the Qixing worked, where the most affluent and powerful members of Liyue society gathered. You were about to excuse yourself and return to your room, when Zhongli inclined his head just a little to regard you silently. “Would you like to join me on my walk, this morning?”

You didn’t think that it was a word you would ever use to describe Zhongli, but he sounded small. Lonely, even. You shook that thought out of your head (a nobleman like him surely had no lack of acquaintances and bed-warmers), yet still, you found yourself saying: “Yes,” without a second thought.

Just to understand him a little better.

—-

The first of Liyue’s laws was a mandate from Rex Lapis himself:

“Nothing can be accomplished without rules or standards. No matter if it is mortals or adepti, everyone has their place.”

You were very familiar with your place. You had been made familiar, ever since the first time you’d almost wandered into Yujing Terrace chasing a Geo crystalfly. You would never forget how the Millelith looked at you as they waved their spears in your face, close enough to touch. Would never forget the words they said to you, and even though you could not yet fully understand what they all meant, the way they said it had made you cry.

And so, it was with no small satisfaction that you marched closely behind Zhongli as he strode through the gates as though he owned the place. The Millelith soldiers at the gate saluted Zhongli as he passed, no doubt recognizing him as a member of high society. You kept your head down and tried to keep up with Zhongli and those long, long legs.

You walked with Zhongli past the gates, stopping briefly at the koi ponds under the foot of Mt. Tianheng. A glaze lily was blooming on one of the mossy rocks, its soft, gentle blue almost glowing under the still-dark sky. You knew what the glaze lily was (of course you did, they sold for more than any other herb or flower, and they were easy to steal if you climbed into Yujing from the mountain side), but you turned to Zhongli with faux curiosity. “Mr. Zhongli, can you tell me more about this flower?”

Not to hear his voice, you told yourself, but to understand him better.

While Zhongli was ordinarily happy to oblige in explanations of any sort, today, he hesitated.

“This is a glaze lily,” he said, slowly, almost mesmerized. “It’s rather dear to me. One of my good friends loved them. Almost always wore one in her hair.”

You knew without a doubt that it was the same friend, the one you couldn’t seem to stop bringing up. You were about to change the subject when Zhongli seemed to shake himself out of that haze.

“My apologies, it seems that our talk this morning has brought back some memories,” Zhongli reached for the lily, brushing its petals gingerly with a gloved hand. “These flowers only bloom during the night, and wilt away as soon as dawn breaks, only to begin the cycle tirelessly again at dusk. A rather fitting metaphor for the people of Liyue, isn’t it?”

You gently touched the necklace that you hadn’t taken off since Zhongli bought it for you. His harsh correction of the shopkeeper’s mistake suddenly made a little more sense. If the flower was so special to you, why would he defile it by buying you a necklace in its image? Surely you were beneath such a momentous symbol.

“Today, the glaze lily is very rarely found in the wild. Only the careful, hardworking botanists of Qingce Village and Liyue Harbor have been able to keep these strains of flowers alive.” Zhongli continued, “but did you know that during the Archon War, glaze lilies were plentiful all across the mountain ranges of Liyue? Especially in Dihua Marsh — you could hardly take a step without running into a patch of lilies.”

You shook your head. “Really?” You wondered, ashamed that your first thought was of how many flowers you’d have been able to sell then — enough for a warm meal every day, perhaps.

“Indeed. Can you imagine, Hansi, rolling fields of these blossoms, as far as the eye can see, each swaying to the wind and glistening under the moon’s full glow?”

Suddenly, you didn’t feel wistful anymore. You couldn’t understand it, but you felt a little like crying.

“It must have been beautiful,” you said. “What happened?”

Zhongli paused like he was choosing his next words carefully. “Geological disasters, although unnatural in nature.” He sighed deeply. “Surviving records of this matter are few and far between. But many scholars agree that during the Archon War, Morax fought and killed a God by what is known today as Guili Plains. The resulting shockwave destroyed... not only the mortal civilization there, but vast areas of glaze lilies. The ecosystem never recovered.”

As selfish as it was, you felt a pang of relief that, despite everything, you hadn’t been alive during the Archon War. It was terrifying, to begin to imagine the strife and chaos of Gods tearing each other apart. You’d loved to read about their battles, but it filled you with a strange sadness (though mostly fear) each time. “What kind of a god could manage to do so much damage, even when faced with the might of Rex Lapis?”

Zhongli’s face stayed composed and unreadable, but the air around you seemed to chill tangibly. Was it your imagination, or did the stone bridge you were standing on just shake?

Finally, he spoke. “It was not their power that destroyed Guili, but their death. The aftermath of a God’s death, no matter how... small the God, can be devastating to mortals.”

He stopped abruptly. You felt like you had to change the subject, felt like your life depended on it. “Wow,” you joked weakly, “Then I hope that Rex Lapis never even catches a cold.”

Zhongli’s eyes widened, and you thought that in them you saw realization.

“Let’s not dwell too long on such inauspicious matters,” he shook his head. “I do apologize for bringing up such a morbid topic. Look, a golden Koi. The merchants of Liyue widely regard such a sighting as an omen of fortune…”

Behind you, the morning sun spilled over the horizon, staining the harbor pink and gold. Without either of you noticing, the glaze lily’s petals slowly closed into themselves.

—-

On the way home, you almost killed an elderly man.

You were walking past the statue of Rex Lapis once again, the one that you had stopped at on your first night with Zhongli. In the morning sun, the statue had lost its hard shadows and taken on a softer light. You couldn’t help but stare— and that was precisely how you walked right into the little old man praying in front of it.

Faster than you thought humanly possible, Zhongli caught your shoulder, and with the other hand, the man’s. The basket that the man was holding clattered to the ground, some sunsettia and a bottle of wine rolling out of it — thankfully unbroken.

When you were both standing firmly on your feet again, you bowed deeply, fear and shame burning on your cheeks. “By the Archons, I’m so sorry,” you whispered over and over as you picked up the fruit he had dropped. “I’m so sorry.”

To your immense relief, the old man laughed heartily. “It’s quite alright. You young folk, always with your head in the clouds!” He exclaimed as he took the basket back from your trembling hands, dusting himself off. “And you, young man, what reflexes you have. It’s a good thing she has you to keep her on her feet!”

“I’m glad you’re unhurt,” Zhongli smiled as he offered the bottle of wine back to the man. “Osmanthus wine, and aged well, too. You have good taste, sir.”

“Oh, this isn’t for me,” he said, “I was leaving it at the statue. Call me a superstitious old man, but legend has it that this is Rex Lapis’ favorite wine.” He shook his head. “I was going to offer it to him at the Rite of Descension, but— it’s such a pity, what happened.”

You perked up at that. The Rite of Descension? What had happened at this year’s Rite? You were once again reminded of your climbing endeavors to see Rex Lapis speak with the common folk — to catch a glimpse of divinity.

“Certainly,” Zhongli agreed, “although Liyue Harbor seems to have bounced back from the catastrophe quite quickly.”

“All thanks to the foundations that our Archon laid for Liyue.” The old man shook his head. “I may be but a poor fisherman, but even I know to thank Rex Lapis.

“Such is the way of life. Even bedrock turns to dust, eventually. What Rex Lapis and the Adepti have done will help the harbor— help each of us flourish for many a year to come,” Zhongli said, “whether we’re the humblest of fishermen, or the highest member of the Qixing.”

There was a short pause, the air charged with a tension you were sure you weren’t imagining.

“Very wise words, from one so young,” the old man chuckled. “Aah, you know what, Rex Lapis is gone anyway.” Gone? “No use making offers to a bygone God; it’s time I accepted the flow of change in Liyue. Will you accept this bottle of wine instead, young man?”

Zhongli’s smile widened a little. You hadn’t marked him down as the drinking type. “Certainly,” Zhongli said, lowering the bottle to his side. “Thank you very much.”

Well, I really must be going.” He peered at you, as you desperately tried to hide behind Zhongli. “Watch your step now, little lady! May the two of you be blessed with a happy life together,” he said as he left.

Zhongli raised a brow at that, but despite the warm flush spreading across your cheeks, you had more pressing matters to ask about. “Mr. Zhongli, what happened at this year’s Rite of Descension?”

“Why, of course,” Zhongli replied, “Rex Lapis died.”

“What?”

---

You listened in horror as Zhongli recounted the incidents that had occurred in Liyue Harbor while you had been held in captivity.

“But he can’t have died, he—'' You trailed off, realizing that the Geo Vision, the only evidence of his existence, would incriminate you in every single one of the lies you’d woven. Briefly, you felt a pang of guilt at what you were still hiding from Zhongli, when he had been nothing but kind to you. You swallowed that guilt quickly. “—he can’t have died. This is Rex Lapis we’re talking about.”

“Rex Lapis was a lot of things,” Zhongli acknowledged, “but neither the Adepti nor the Archons are unkillable. The carnage of the Archon War showed us that.”

“What about Geo Visions? Will no one ever get a Vision again?”

“How the Archons grant Visions is a mystery that has eluded even the most erudite researchers,” Zhongli responded, “I’m afraid that I cannot shed any light on that topic.”

“But the other night, at the statue, you let me pray to him, and—“ You peered at him. His expression was strange, pulled into a mild frown that you’d never seen before. “You know something else that you’re not saying, Mr. Zhongli, don’t you?” You realized how disrespectful that sounded as it came out of your mouth. “Sorry—“

“No… You are correct,” Zhongli admitted. “The Qixing, who conducted the investigation into Rex Lapis’ death, concluded that there was a likelihood that he was not truly dead. Or rather, I inferred as much during their public notice to the city at the Rite of Parting.”

He paused briefly, studying your expression intently. You tried to keep your expression neutral, tried to still the roiling emotions inside you. Zhongli continued, “however, the city has not heard from Rex Lapis since. Even if he is physically alive, Rex Lapis’ rule over the city has undoubtedly become a relic of the past. To be swept away by time, and forgotten.”

“Oh.”

“You seem to be deeply affected by Rex Lapis’ departure,” Zhongli observed — not a question. “I’m surprised. You didn’t strike me as the overtly religious type.”

“‘M not,” you murmured. “It’s just—“

Just that Rex Lapis didn’t feel like a distant God. You had read so many stories about him — those had been your favorite books, and had grounded you in knowing that there was someone out there, watching over Liyue and all its citizens. Even if you had never known peace, that offered some solace.

You paused. Your thoughts were all over the place, and you weren’t sure any amount of talking would help sort them through. Rex Lapis was still watching over the city — whether he meant to help you or not, the proof was sitting in the bottom of the drawer in your room. You couldn’t explain it, but you could feel his presence, knew it as certainly as you knew of the mountains and oceans and stars.

“Actually,” you said, a sudden calm soaring through your veins, “I’m okay, thank you, Mr. Zhongli. Rex Lapis has been watching over us for so, so many years, and if a peaceful retirement is what he wants, then it’s the least I can do to grant him that.”

There was such a long period of silence from Zhongli that you couldn’t help but glance at him. The smile on his face had you averting your gaze just as quickly. It made your heart ache.

“I am sure that, wherever he is, he would be appreciative of that,” he said, his voice tight with— What was that? If you didn’t know better, you would have thought it was mirth.

“What about you, Mr. Zhongli? You have a Geo Vision. I’m sure the news greatly upset you too.” You wondered what an upset Zhongli looked like. For all the conversing you’d been doing with him, you hadn’t seen him emote more than twice. What kind of upbringing must he have had, you found yourself wondering.

“There were… more than a few stressful moments,” Zhongli admitted. “But a peaceful retirement we shall give him, no?”

---

When you got home, before retreating to your room, you paused at the door.

“Mr. Zhongli?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, a low sound that vibrated in your bones. You swallowed, throat dry and parched, and knew that if you stopped now, you’d never gain your momentum back again.

“About me being able to read—“ You stammered. He held out a hand to stop you.

“As I said, you need only tell me about yourself when you’re ready.”

“I am ready.”

“You’re shaking.”

The second commercial law of Liyue you had read about in a book about the Qixing’s commandments — it had seemed like common sense to you at the time, but you were beginning to understand it a little more:

“The terms of every contract must be met with something of equivalent value.”

This was the first step. To truly knowing Zhongli. To understanding him better, like you’d been telling yourself all day. You had to offer something up yourself, too.

“I want to.” You pressed.

“I see,” Zhongli relented, leaning in towards you. It took everything in you not to start backtracking. “Then please, continue.”

And so you told him, about the books you’d stolen, about the cloudless nights you waited for eagerly, about the words you read under the pale moonlight. Zhongli remained silent throughout, thoughtful

“And what made you shy away from telling me this earlier?” He said, finally.

Did he really have to make you say it? “Because it’s— it’s not my place to learn to read. I wasn’t born into nobility — wasn’t even born into the ranks of the common folk. Someone like me has no business understanding the knowledge meant for the higher classes.” You recited all the words that had been hurled at you before. Still, the ‘I’m sorry’ caught against your lips; because you really weren’t. You’d do it all again if you had the choice.

You waited for him to gaze upon you with disgust. With, finally, the realization of what he had brought into his household — a thief, a rat, a girl who did not know her place.

“Your place?” Zhongli’s face was unreadable when he finally moved towards you. Despite steeling yourself, you flinched as he brushed past.

“Follow me,” he said, voice quiet, yet still an order.

You obeyed, hurrying to keep up as he ascended the long, winding set of stairs up to the library — watched as he opened the door, fear melting quickly into unbearable wonder.

Lining the walls of the enormous, yawning room were honeycomb rows of dark bookshelves, each filled with more books than you’d seen in your life. More books than the rest of Liyue had to offer, you’d venture to wager. Briefly, you wondered if even the National Library of Sumeru could hold a torch to Zhongli’s collection. From where you were standing, you could already see at least a dozen of different titles and genres: folklore, travel guides, mythology, cookbooks, martial art novels, poetry, fairy tales, memoirs—

If Zhongli had struck you down right then, you’d have left the mortal plane with a smile on your face from having been graced with such a sight.

“When Rex Lapis built up the civilization that would eventually become Liyue Harbor,” Zhongli said, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway, “he was not alone in his endeavors. Do you know of Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust?”

You carefully nodded. You’d only ever seen the name once, in a book — “The Stone Tablet Compilations,” you whispered, “I read that she taught the people to tend the soil, so that they might never go hungry again.”

You had never seen Zhongli so visibly shocked — amber gaze wide, brow raised — and almost wished that you could save that moment in your mind’s eye for eternity. When he composed himself, there was a smile on his face. “You are full of surprises, Hansi,” he murmured. “And do you know what Rex Lapis gave to the humans?”

“Currency,” you said, a little more confidently. Who would have thought that all those hours consuming journals and folk tales would one day earn you such an important favor? You racked your brains for the exact words that the book had used. “Fire. Knowledge. And the desire to break new ground, with determination unshakeable as mountains.” Zhongli nodded encouragingly, leaning towards you; and so you continue, emboldened. “It’s why he is also called the Lord of Wealth, of the Stove, of History, and the Groundbreaker.”

“Excellent,” Zhongli said, his voice guttural, all but a snarl. “And so, the Gods of Liyue taught the humans how to hunt, to cook, to trade, to live, to protect, no?”

“Yes, Mr. Zhongli,” you whispered, voice quieter than a breath. He heard you, anyway.

“You’ll find that the class hierarchy within the ranks of Liyue means precious little to me. And even if they did, restricting the flow of knowledge only to those born into privilege — it’s an absurd notion,” Zhongli gestured with one hand at the books in the room. “It’s an affront to Rex Lapis, who massacred hundreds of gods in the Archon War so Liyue could prosper. It’s an insult to the Goddess of Dust, who gave her life to ensure that the humans passed their legacies and knowledge onto future generations in safety.”

You nodded, not even a single breath left inside you. Every one of his words seemed to send a rumble through the floorboards, quiet but powerful. Never had you met a noble willing to even stray from the unspoken social rules of Liyue, let alone challenge them so boldly.

“To restrict knowledge is to directly contradict what the Founding Gods of Liyue believed in. I would never stand for it.” Finally, Zhongli turned to meet your stare. To your own surprise, you managed to stop yourself from looking away. And for the dozenth time that week, he shook your world. “The library is yours to use, Hansi. I ask only one thing — a contract of sorts, in keeping with Liyue tradition.”

The last commercial law of Liyue stated that: “Contracts made on Liyue soil were never to be broken, and those who reneged on their word would suffer the unspeakable wrath of the Lord of Geo.”

Whatever you promised here would be unquestionably binding — and you were ready to agree to it, whatever it was, if it meant you could so much as touch one of the books on these shelves.

“What is it?” You asked, heart sinking. What sort of cruel price would he demand? What did he want from you that he could not already readily take?

“That you come and tell me,” Zhongli said with a small smile, “about any stories you find particularly enjoyable.”

---

When you were ten, you got caught for the first time.

You’d made it down the street, clutching the loose pages to your heaving chest, but a loose cobblestone in the paved road had caught on your foot, and with a scream, you’d fallen.

The shopkeeper chasing you dragged you into an alley by your ankle and beat you within an inch of your life, expletives carried by his festering, drunken breath. The fracture in your ribs took two months to heal — three till you could breathe normally again — but it hurt most that before he left, he’d torn the book into shreds, scattering the pieces across the street. What would have meant the world to you had meant nothing to him.

You never got caught again.

—-

Standing in front of Zhongli, the giddy realization settled deeply into your heart. You would never have to steal again. Never have to run again. All of these books, more than you could begin to comprehend, more than you could read in a lifetime, were yours.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, warm and wet, but to your relief, you managed to blink them back.

“Deal,” you choked out and for the first time, Zhongli’s smile reached his golden eyes.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #zhongli #genshin fanfic #zhongli fanfic #zhongli x reader #fragile as dust #anqi writes #my writing

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xbunnybunz · 3 years

Text

Chocolate Confession [Link x Reader]

Summary: You decide to repay the Legendary Hero of Hyrule with a box of chocolates, and he repays you with something else entirely.

Genre: Fluff

Date: June 19, 2014

-----

If you had learned one thing about Link after all these years of traveling with him, it was that he had an gargantuan sweet tooth.

You had paid close attention to the young man as you both strolled through Castle Town. (And it definitely was not because you liked him!) You would watch as his gaze restlessly touched over everything in sight, examining all of the wares for sale with tireless curiosity. Even though he so-eagerly drank in his surroundings, he never stopped to admire anything up close. It was almost as if nothing meant enough for the busy hero to stop him in his tracks... Well, except for one thing.

Whenever you passed by a candy shop or a vendor selling sweets, Link's cerulean eyes would sparkle like aquamarine jewels, glistening with both awe and lust for the treat. Like a child, his facial expressions would shift to convey his desires. For a split second that others would never notice, Link's breath would catch in his throat, his feet failing to move for a minuscule of time.

Although any other normal person wouldn't have been able to pick up these subtle clues, you noticed the blond's small hints and knew what Link's body language meant.

He was infatuated with sugary snacks.

However, there was a small problem with his sweet tooth; the problem being that he was a traveling hero- which meant he didn't have the time to settle down and get a job. That wasn't the only issue here. The blond hero also had to take care of you, his loyal sidekick, as well as his horse, Epona. With these two factors in mind, it was quite obvious that there were never extra rupees to spare.

In the past few months, however, you managed to snag a job at the renowned Lon Lon Ranch. You had gotten the idea to work at the ranch after you heard the townspeople of Castle Town speak about it. Epona had long run out of carrots and Link had decided that it was time to restock on his beloved horse's treats. Both of you had gone shopping in the marketplace, seeking out carrots for Epona when you overheard two men discussing how much they yearned for a bottle of fresh, ice-cold Lon Lon milk.

While Link was busy paying for the carrots, you rushed over to the men and asked them what "Lon Lon Milk" was.

They had initially laughed at you for not knowing what the famous Lon Lon milk was, but once they realized you were serious, they pulled you aside and explained to you in thorough detail about what the delicious drink was, disbelief in their eyes.

”I can’t believe you’ve never heard of Lon Lon Milk before!” One said, blinking back tears. “What a poor child!”

The other man slapped the back of his friend’s head, but looked close to crying himself. ”Aw, be quiet you idiot! You’re attracting attention!”

Apparently, the milk was a product of Lon Lon Ranch- which was famous for it's scrumptious milk and creamy butter.

Intrigued, you asked about the job opportunities there. The men simply pat you on the back and told you that if you asked Malon, the ranch-owner's friendly daughter, you would be guaranteed a job there.

The following night, while Link and Epona slept, you sneaked away to Lon Lon Ranch, using the directions the men in Castle Town had given you. Luckily for you, you had arrived right before Lon Lon Ranch closed for the night. A girl about the same age as you was huffing and puffing, working on pushing the gates closed, but once she saw you, she gave you a warm smile and asked you how she could be of assistance.

The girl, you assumed, was Malon. You were determined to get the money to repay your friend.

'Link deserves something special for everything he's done for me.' You argued in your mind, still hesitant to take the job. It would require you to sneak away from Link each night and work at the ranch, sacrificing your resting time- which was something you valued more than gold. You shook off those thoughts with a scowl. 'He's always taken care of me and helped me in all ways possible- sometimes even saving me from monsters! He deserves this, at least.'

In the most polite manner possible, you asked her if you could work here for a while. “I need certain amount of money to buy a gift for a friend.” You explained, twiddling your fingers. “I want to buy the perfect present for one of my dearest friends- one that was always there for me. That’s why I need this job, so please, could I work here?”

With that reason, Malon immediately gave you the job.

"I think that you're a wonderful friend." She praised, taking you inside the ranch. "I'm sure your friend will love the present she gets!"

"’She?’ Oh, my friend isn't a girl." You clarified, chuckling quietly.

There was a moment of brief silence after that.

Malon had slowed her footsteps and turned her head slightly, sending you a knowing, yet mischievous look over her shoulder.

"Oh? Is that so?"

You stared at her, dumbfounded, before you finally realized what she was implying. A thin layer of pink dusted your cheeks as you quickly tried to rebut her assumptions.

"W-what?" You stuttered, "Like I said, we're only friends..."

It was Malon’s turn to chuckle as she wached you falter over your words and turn a fiery scarlet color. The auburn-haired girl turned away from you, humming when the cow stables came into view.

"Ah, this is where you'll be working!" She smiled, gesturing to the sleeping cows. "Don't worry, it's not a hard job. All you have to do is milk them enough to get three buckets of milk a night- and you're done!"

You thanked her and accepted the bucket happily, glad that your job didn't require you to lift heavy boxes or shovel horse poo.

And thus, for a month and a half, you managed to creep away from the sleeping hero and his chestnut-colored horse, spending two to three hours in the ranch before returning to sleep for a couple of hours. Finally, after all your hard labor, you had saved enough money to buy Link what he yearned for this whole time- chocolates.

This morning, you were ecstatic to hear that the Hero of Time wanted to head to the marketplace to pick up his repaired shield. You had just enough money to buy the chocolates that he craved.

As he groomed Epona with gentle hands, he addressed you. "I'll be visiting Castle Town sometime in the afternoon," he said, turning to face you. "The repairmen should be done fixing my shield; I'll pick it up today. You can come with me, if you want?"

Soft blue eyes turned to take in the sight of your kneeling form, rolling up your sleeping mat with utmost care.

Your reaction was nothing short of excitement. Your head snapped up, startling the blue-eyed boy in front of you. "Yes!" You shrieked immediately, your eyes wide with delight.

A moment of silence passed between the two of you before you realized what you did, and you blushed, embarrassed.

Link sent you a questioning glance, and you felt your cheeks turn pink. "Er, I mean-" You quickly added, trying to redeem yourself, "-I mean, I'd love to go! I've been wanting to buy something there for a while now."

Link smiled at you, lips turning up into a playful grin. "That sounds great! It's always a lot more interesting when you come to Castle Town with me."

You hastily turned around and pretended to fold up your sleeping mat, hiding your reddened cheeks. "S-sure..." You stammered, feeling a bit foolish for the effects that the blond-haired, sapphire-eyed boy had on you.

It was true that you had developed a tiny amount of feelings for Link, but you tried your best to suppress them. Of course, he would never like you. You knew that in the competition for the hero's heart, you were already beat. Princess Zelda- possibly the most beautiful and talented girl you've ever encountered, had you down in the long run. What madman would pick girl like you over a princess?

You sighed quietly under your breath, folding your sleeping mat in half and strapping it onto Epona. The horse huffed out of it's nose lightly, as if it knew what you were thinking. (She was probably just protesting against carrying the extra weight, but it was a comforting thought anyway.) You pet her white muzzle, running your fingers gingerly over her mane. "Friends." You muttered under your breath, watching as the graceful horse pressed it's nose into your hands. You take a deep breath, eyes darting over to the teenage boy that stood a little ways from you. "Just friends..."

Soon after you and Link had finished strapping your sleeping gear onto Epona, you both took off to the marketplace. As both you and Link walked, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. You chuckled, remembering how awkward you were around the hero the first time you traveled with him. Blue eyes met yours, and you offered a lopsided smile. "What were you laughing about?" Link asked, sending you a curious look. You looked up at the sky, tilting your head slightly to catch a breeze. "Nothing, just some old memories." He didn't get a chance to ask what they were about, because you had already arrived at the drawbridge to Castle Town.

Soldiers greeted the both of you as you walked in, you nodded at them before closing your eyes, soaking in the sounds of civilization and life. Traveling with Link often meant being secluded from other folk, and although you loved his company, it got lonely quite quickly.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Link began to speak to you. "We'll meet up in Central Plaza after we've both found what we want, alright? If you need anything, I'll be in the Gear Shop right next to the Hyrule bakery." You nodded, your eyes already glued to the fancy store across from the Gear Shop. Even from where you were standing, you could already see the sweets inside of the store, beckoning you to go in.

As soon as Link departed, you hightailed to the shop, admiring the treats through the window first. The shop put it's best chocolate on display. A variety of chocolates laid in front of your shining eyes, tempting you to hurry up and buy them. The display of dark chocolate swirls, caramel drops and pure white chocolate made your mouth water- you were standing there for so long that people were beginning to give you funny looks, so you decided to walk inside the shop.

No words could describe the smells that had wafted over your olfactory senses as you stepped into the store. For a second, you felt as if you had gone to heaven and back; because it seemed humanely impossible for smells so wondrous to be on Earth.

"Hello?" You heard a voice call, and suddenly, you noticed that there was a hand waving in front of your eyes. "Darling, are you quite alright?" You looked to see the owner of the arm, a woman that was dressed affluently and twice your age stood in front of you, looking worried.

"O-oh no! I'm fine!" You reassured the lady, peering at the boxes of chocolates that lined the shelves. "I'm just amazed at all the chocolate here, that's all."

The woman laughed heartily, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Oh dearie, chocolate seems to be a gift from the gods above, doesn't it? Everything about it seems perfect!" She gestured to the merchandise around her, adding in a hushed voice, "Sometimes I think I love this place more than my husband- don't tell him that, though! Ohoho!"

You diverted your eyes and peered behind the counter, seeing a burly man twirling his mustache, analyzing the boxes of chocolate across from him- that, you concluded, was probably this woman's husband.

"Anyway, dear, was there anything you needed?" The woman asked. You scratched the back of your neck, offering a nervous smile. "Yes, I came to buy this specific box of chocolates. I've had my eyes on it for quite a while now, and I'd really appreciate it if I could buy those."

You still remembered the box that Link had eyed a couple of times while you passed by this shop, it used to be in the window display, but now, alarmingly, it was gone. The top of the box was transparent and allowed you to see the contents lining the inside. You remembered the features of all the alluring chocolates, there were even carvings on the chocolate! Each tiny swirl and flower engraved in the thick, creamy treat looked as if a professional carver had worked their magic on it.

"Oh, that would be no problem! Pray tell, how did the box look like?" The woman asked, clapping her hands once in enthusiasm.

"The cover of the box was transparent, and the chocolates inside looked like they were created by a woodcarver." You recalled, placing a finger on your chin. "There were also multiple colors- it was very pretty."

The woman seemed to be in deep thought for a second, thinking about the description you had given her. You heard her mutter a couple words under her breath before she suddenly sprung into a frenzy. "Oh no!" She cried, hands flying to her face dramatically, "I do, indeed, think we sold that box of chocolates last week!" Your eyebrows furrowed, and you felt a twinge in your heart. Link really seemed to like those chocolates... And you had worked so hard to get them, too.

Suddenly, a gruff voice is heard from the counter. "Millie, I think we have one of 'em boxes left in the back."

Both you and the woman look up at the man behind the counter, still twirling his mustache. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the storage room, and your face filled with surprise; the woman's full of glee.

"Oh, sweetie! I knew that I was right to marry you! You're even sweeter than one-hundred chocolates combined! I knew I could rely on you to be organized with the merchandise!" As the woman bounced her way to the storage room, she leaned over and pecked the mustached man on the cheek, and look of satisfaction washed over his features, chuckling. "Right back at ya Millie."

In moments, the box of chocolate you had seen Link admire so many times was placed in front of you on the counter. The man told you the price, and as you were basically emptying out all your life savings onto the table, he gave you a sly look and questioned "Would the person you're giving this to like this wrapped?"

You were about to answer when Millie interrupted you, a shocked expression on her face. "These expensive chocolates are for someone else?" She began fanning herself, as if it were the most incredulous thing she's ever heard. "Tell me it is not so! Look at you, all your rupees have gone into this box of chocolates- and it is not even for you? Give me the joy to hear that it is your most precious receiving this gift!"

Your face reddens, and you can only look down at the shining marble floors, unable to find words to speak. For your "most precious?" Well... You wouldn't go that far, right?

The man behind the counter sighed, "Ay, Millie, it must be. Look at her face!" He turned to you, and small smile on his lips. "Tell you what, I'll wrap this for you for free- just to make up for all the drama we put you through."

You nodded meekly, your face still burning red.

It didn't take long for the man to finish wrapping the box. When you saw the material they had used to enclose the box, you almost cried.

"This is silk!" You said in awe, feeling the expensive fabric under your fingertips. You traced the golden-hued ribbon with wonder. "...I cannot thank you enough!"

The couple only smiled at you and thanked you for your purchase, urging you to run along and give your present to your lucky "friend."

You carefully placed the beautifully wrapped present in your bag and decided that you'd give the chocolates to Link sometime later, since he would probably be busy checking out his shield after you met up with him.

You spotted the golden-haired boy immediately after leaving the chocolate shop. Calling his name and waving to get his attention, you both reunited and made your way back to Epona, who was waiting for you both in the middle of Hyrule Field.

You stopped walking as soon as Epona came into sight, coughing lightly to get Link's attention. His cerulean eyes turned to you, a pinch of concern shining through. "Is there something wrong, ______?"

You diverted your eyes and slowly pulled out the present, holding it out to him.

"T-this is a thank-you-present for looking after me all the time..."

You watched his reactions out of the corner of your eyes, seeing his face go through an array of emotions. First, he seemed stunned, then puzzled, then finally, grateful.

You turned your head toward Link, lips trembling slightly from the oddness of the situation. His eyes locked with yours, something you've never seen before brewing in his blue orbs. "_-_______... You shouldn't have..." Link muttered, pressing the package closer to his chest. "Where did you get the rupees to afford this?"

You bit back a shiver upon seeing his expression, a blush threatening to spill crimson all over your face. "Well, it doesn't matter as long as you like it!" You choked out, quite rattled at the situation. The words came out a bit sharper than you had intended, but Link didn't seem to take them to heart.

The Hero of Time gave you a gracious smile before carefully pulling at the golden ribbon, admiring the silk fabric.

“Wow…” He whispered in awe, eyes darting up to your ever-reddening face. “This is amazing.” You gulped, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Once he had finally unwrapped the gift, a soft look of surprise touched upon his handsome features, his eyebrows arching up in disbelief and the corners of his mouth pulling northward. You watched as he blinked several times, just to make sure he was not being deceived. His eyes took in every elaborate detail on the chocolates through the clear texture on the front of the box in amazement.

Once you decided that he liked the chocolates, you looked away, your face feeling like it was lit aflame.

"_______... How did you...?" Link spoke your name like it was a sacred prayer. You could feel his eyes back on you, however, you refused to meet his gaze.

"I saw you admiring them in Castle Town," you tried to explain, the temperature on your cheeks increasing steadily. "...And I thought that maybe you'd like them."

You decided to sneak a glance at Link; and you regretted doing so immediately. His eyes were so full of admiration and love that you felt as if you would faint if you looked into them for a second longer. In a flash, he held you in a tight embrace, pressing his body flush against yours.

"I love it, _____. Thank you so much."

You could barely react to his sudden act of affection, and although you wanted this embarrassment to end, you never wanted Link to let you out of his loving grasp. Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, returning the hug gently.

It seemed like only seconds had passed before he pulled away suddenly, leaving you feeling vacant and also a little neglected. As soon as you saw him open the box of chocolates, however, you watched him with renewed interest.

Link observed every piece of chocolate in the box, appreciating the time and effort put into each individual candy. After what felt like an eternity, he picked up a chocolate in the shape of a rose, small flecks of bright red dotting the edges. You watched keenly as his slender fingers turned the chocolate over, taking in all the details on the petals; before raising it up to his barely parted, slightly chapped lips, enveloping half of the sweet in his mouth...

Your head snapped to the side violently, a dark blush igniting in your cheeks. That was so... Hot... You suppressed a shudder, reminding yourself to contain your thoughts.

While you were battling with your inner turmoil, you had not noticed Link's sneaky expression as he glanced at you. Unknown to you, Link had seen your reaction to him eating the chocolate, and soon, an idea formed in his mind.

Of course, he had an itching feeling that you had liked him before, but he had never acted out on it because he was unsure. Now, however, it was quite obvious that you had more than just a little "thing" for him- and you'd be thrilled to find out that the feeling was mutual.

With that in mind, he purred your name, not unlike a way a cat would, and you clenched your jaw, trying not to look at him. "W-what?" You asked, peering out of the corner of your eye when you didn't receive an answer.

Your eyes widened slightly when you realized that Link was sauntering closer to you, and you attempted to gain space immediately. "Uhm, Link, what are you-Woah-!" You fell backward, landing on your backside rather painfully.

‘Way to go.’ You thought, swallowing thickly as you looked up at Link. Aquamarine eyes watched your every movement and didn't miss a beat. Without hesitation, Link kneeled between your splayed legs, placing his unoccupied hand on the floor beside you. The blond leaned in close, his eyes holding an emotion that almost looked like untamed hunger.

You were too stunned to speak, feeling his hot breath cascade over your lips.

"Why don’t you try some?" He asked, his voice low and airy. He held out the half-eaten chocolate to your flushed face, watching in satisfaction as red blossomed even further down your face. "It's delicious." He smiled, his eyelids lowering seductively. “…And if it’s not, we can try the others in the box, what do you say…?” You were frozen at his words, unable to speak yourself. Instead, you took notice of how long his golden eyelashes were. You felt a gossamer touch on your own lashes, and you swore that they were touching yours.

Link leaned into your body, holding the chocolate rose against your trembling lips, tempting you to open your mouth. Your mind was dizzy with embarrassment. You could feel the chocolate pressing against your mouth, as well as the small grooves and saliva that Link had left behind when he had eaten it. The scent of the chocolate wafted up to your nose, and you felt like you were being put under a heated spell.

You were entranced as you looked into his aqua-eyes, opening your mouth just enough for him to slip the chocolate in. Link gave you a small smile, pressing the sweet into your mouth with a satisfied look.

Your taste-buds set off fireworks in your mouth. The chocolate slowly melted in your mouth, the taste of bitter dark chocolate mixed with foreign spices gave the treat a dark, but tangy flavor.

Your eyes never left Link's as you savored the chocolate, his half-lidded eyes nearly causing you to melt yourself. You were unable to suppress a shudder when he shot you a sultry look, darting his tongue out to lick his lips.

You watched, hypnotized as the hero raised his hand up to his lips, lapping at the chocolate that had melted on the tips of his fingers.

“Link…?” You whimpered, watching him with clouded eyes. You blinked as he pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. Slowly, his hand slithered behind your head, tangling into your hair.

All the while, the blond moved closer to your face, gauging your facial expressions. You shook in anticipation, almost leaning toward him as well. When Link was finally a few centimeters away from your lips, he watched you lowered your eyelids slowly, following in suit, his eyes slipped shut as well.

Gently, he pressed his lips against yours, your mouths molding together perfectly.

After a while, he pulls back and placing his forehead on yours, looking content. "I love you, so much..." He hums, opening his eyes.

You let out a shaky sigh, still flustered, but at the same time, thankful. Your mind began to wander, wondering how a box of chocolate had resulted in this.

"I love you too, Link."

#legend of zelda #oot link #link x reader #reader insert #old work

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writerwrites · 3 years

Text

Yuánfèn | 05

Ch. 5: L'esprit de Escalier: “The feeling after leaving a conversation where you can’t help but think about all the things you should have said.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Chapter Word Count: 4.3k Chapter Warnings: Slow burn, anxiety and shock related to elevator failure incident, small mention of Steve’s minor injuries from the initial Ultron fight in the Tower, small mentions of two idiots being horny and doing nothing about it because re: idiots

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“You look…” She trailed off, eyes bright as they met Steve’s.

“I look like what? You don’t like the blue?” He tugged on the collar of the blue button up he’d put on for Tony’s party as he laughed nervously. His smile was almost one of shy boyishness as he looked tenderly at the familiar woman in the small bed, relieved she was lucid. He’d asked Sharon to keep him in the loop and she hadn’t had a single clear day when he was in Spain.

“I was going to say tired. When’s the last time you slept?” Her aged hands reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and Steve quickly stepped over to help her. “The blue looks nice, but you know I’ll always prefer you in a uniform.” He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks.

“It’s been a few days, but knowing Stark, I probably won’t get any sleep tonight either.” Steve realized he was holding back, Peggy noticing it too when he paced around the end of the bed with his hands on his hips. “Like father, like son, I guess. Big party tonight. Tony even joked that he’d invited some of our old friends, so just wait until I’m back to let you in on whether or not we had some other vets there.”

“Hmm,” She smiled and watched him, “I wouldn’t put it past Stark at all...and did you find a new dance partner?”

Steve felt like he should've known that she would figure out why he came before he could pluck up the courage to ask Peggy to help him talk through his feelings. Sam was a great listener but there wasn’t anyone left that really knew him, not like Peggy did. Even with Natasha invested in his romantic life, she didn’t understand why he was so hesitant to try something new. With a nod, he sat in the chair next to Peggy’s bed, pulling it in closer. She smiled at him, reaching her hand out for him and he didn’t hesitate to take it, “I didn’t ask anyone to Stark’s party, but she’ll be there.”

There was a long quiet between the two of them. Steve wondered if he’d hurt her by mentioning you or whether Peggy was trying to find the right questions to ask. It wasn’t a painful silence, their hands staying together, fingers laced through like they were making the most of their time together and, in a way, they were. Periodically they would steal a glance at one another, smile softly, and settle back into their thoughts. Eventually, Peggy would break the silence, but not how he’d expected. “What are you still waiting for, Steve?” His thumb paused in its rhythmic brushing over the loose, translucent and speckled skin. “Burdening yourself with things you can’t change is no way to live.”

Though he nodded in agreement, Steve bit his tongue. There was so much that felt unfair, complicated. He let Peggy change the conversation, reminisce about old Stark parties and music from the forties, but Steve fought to be present and enjoy this rare moment with her. Was it fair to tell you he had feelings for you when he still loved Peggy, even if he couldn’t have her? You both had your own baggage, so could you find happiness together without working through that first independently? These were the same questions that had been running through his head every night he’d been back at the Tower. He had sat up, notebook in hand, and tried to write through it, but only ended up staring at the sketches of you asleep on his chest. He wanted to say there was happiness in Spain, but the silence since returning to New York felt like he had misread the situation. Instead of talking through it, he pressed a kiss to Peggy’s forehead and told her he’d be back as soon as he could, making no promises to dance with that new dance partner.

Your ears were still ringing when Sam picked you up off of the elevator floor. He had shouted over the sound of fighting far overhead and your own screams every time the elevator moved, but it hadn’t started in complete chaos. At first it seemed like a power surge, the elevator falling a few floors. JARVIS didn’t respond and then, after a little bit of waiting all hell broke loose. I got you, that was all he kept shouting as he pinned you in a corner of the elevator, arms wrapped around you while you wondered how many floors it would take to plummet to a certain death. In the minutes of peace between the first serious fall and the second, Sam still held you as he tapped on his smartwatch to call for help. The snapping sound of the elevator cables, clang of something heavy and metal clamoring through the elevator shaft and denting the roof, the squeal of the elevator breaks struggling to stop the lift from another terrifying descent. Needless to say, Sam’s message went unanswered. With Sam pressed against you and both of your bodies losing weight in the third descent you worried about the team, certain that it had to be exceptionally bad if whoever was responsible managed to get into Stark Tower.

Somehow the breaks held long enough for Sam to pry the doors open. The entire experience left you shaking in fear and even though the voice in your head was saying you were in shock, you couldn’t make yourself move from the curled up position in the corner of the elevator. It left Sam tasked with picking you up and using his adrenaline to carry you up the three flights of stairs back to your office as your body kept shaking in his arms. You couldn’t be sure if the ringing in your ears made the stairwell seem uncomfortably quiet or if the hell you two had just escaped was all in your head.

“Doc, I need to check on the team. I’ll be right back, just keep the door closed and…” He looked around your office, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, brought your bag to you and set it at your feet. “Your phone’s in here? I’ll be right back.” Even with tear-blurred vision you could see the concern in his dark eyes and the turmoil of leaving you, so you nodded because your teeth were chattering and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Sam pulled the soft blanket from the back of your couch over your shoulders, “I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t matter if he’d been gone five minutes or ten or even twenty, you spent the entire time with a racing heart. Every little sound set you off into a fit of tears that would choke up after your racing brain tried to logic yourself into calming techniques and there were sounds, screaming and banging. With your face buried in your knees and your body completely racked with exhaustion you lost all track of time, your mind pinballing between replaying the elevator’s descent, your need for sleep, fits of panic and calm, and even the horrible moments where you’d been in a cold basement identifying the remains of your family members years earlier. What you hadn’t been thinking about was getting your head in the game and following Sam to the frontline to patch up the team.

Sam came back, as promised, but he wasn’t alone. The sound footsteps in the hall had you sobbing into your knees, rocking back and forth as you tried to not imagine the worst. “Hey you,” Steve whispered, his warm breath hitting your arm moments before he took your hands in his. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” His warm hands brushed up your arms and pulled gently to untangle you from the ball you’d put yourself in. “Let’s go home, okay? Let’s get you out of here.”

Picking your head up a little, you looked around the room, the light was on and your office looked completely unchanged. Sam was standing behind Steve watching you, looking far more put together than you were as you caught sight of your own reflection and immediately looked away. You hadn’t seen yourself in such a state since the Chitauri attack and it wasn’t a trauma you wanted to relive. Slowly you turned your gaze to Steve and his thumbs immediately brushed away the damp on your cheeks. With a sniffle you asked, “Is it over?” The rasp in your voice gave away that you’d been screaming in the elevator or maybe it was from all the crying afterward. That logical voice in the back of your head tried to push forward again as you tried to box up your own feelings, “Is the team okay? Do they need me?”

“Nah, we’re getting you out of here, Doc. The big brain idiots can deal with their mess.” Sam’s tone was brotherly but firm, no room to tell him you could handle the truth about whatever happened at the party.

When Steve tried to help you up your legs wobbled and you nearly fell. Quickly wrapping his arms around your waist, he steadied you. “It’s a lot of stairs, honey. Let’s just think about this for a minute.”

“Between the two of us we could get her down to the garage.” Sam offered as he watched you stare at Steve’s feet while you tried to steady your breathing, unaware that the reason you were trying to calm yourself down now had more to do with the proximity to the super soldier that just called you a pet name.

“You’ve been through hell tonight too, Sam.” Steve may have been talking to Sam but his attention was on you, how your arms were still pulled close to your chest and your whole body was shaking. “You both can crash here at the Tower. There’s a spare room next to mine. She can have mine, it’ll be fine. We can make it work. That’s a few floors down, we’ll manage if you can just carry her bag for her.”

“Steve,” you started with your head already shaking ‘no’ but you couldn’t be sure if you were saying no to staying in the Tower or kicking him out of his bed, probably the former. It wasn’t lost on that noisy logical part of your brain that your body seemed to have settled on freeze rather than fight or flight, but that sliver of rational brain seemed to focus on the fact that if someone got into the Tower once that they could do it again.

“I promise, you’re safe. You just hold on to me.” Effortlessly, Steve picked you up and pulled you to his chest. Wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles behind him, you buried your face in Steve’s neck. Your arms draped around his neck but as they walked you through the Tower to the level with the Avengers’ apartments you relaxed, albeit just a little.

You had only been on this floor a handful of times and if anyone was watching you cling to Steve like a baby björn, you were too busy trying to remember to breathe to notice. In fact, you hardly even noticed Steve and Sam talking along the way or the conversation about showers, clothes, and breakfast in the morning. What you did notice was the circles Steve was pressing into your spine as he talked casually to Sam. He took his time to head next door to his room and what may have seemed like casual chit chat to Sam or even appeared like Steve being a bit of a moving, physical talker felt like you were being gently rocked into a less panicked state. Slowly, Steve had somehow lulled you into the headspace you were in once he joined you in Spain, the weight of emotions washing away in the familiar smell of his body wash and clothes.

If the sound of a door closing and the quiet that ensued wasn’t an indication that you were now in Steve’s room it was the smell of the place, just as lovely and welcoming. As Steve leaned forward to set you down on the bed you instinctively clung more tightly to him. He straightened up and you felt the rumble of him holding back a laugh before he sighed and gave in, walking into his bathroom and setting you down on the sink. Absolutely refusing to let go of the small comfort that had numbed the terror of the evening may have been the main reason for your behavior, but there was also the fact that you didn’t want to acknowledge your bundle of insecurities. So, for a moment longer at least, you stayed right there holding on to him. “So this is how it’s going to be?” Steve brushed his fingers through your hair as you nodded into his chest. “Well, I’m not sure how comfortable you’re going to be trying to sleep in this dress and my shirt’s pretty torn up after the fight.”

The fight… For the first time since you stepped onto that elevator you really looked at him. Your legs slowly loosened their grip on his waist and Steve helped you reach the ground, even if it was just by the tips of your toes because he pinned you between his body and the counter of the bathroom sink. Even in the warm golden glow of the bathroom you could see that he was already healing from a good hit to the face. Your palm went to his cheek and he covered it in his own as if to tell you he was okay. Maybe you were going to ask him if he was, but all you managed to say was one shaky, half whispered, “Stay?”

Steve felt selfish for even thinking, hoping really, that you would ask, but he wanted to stay with you. He wanted to keep you safe and finally get some sleep himself. Instead of asking if you were sure, he found a confession passing his own lips in the same hushed tone, “I haven’t slept since we got back from the villa.”

The sound of your breath hitching, your surprise and exasperation, would’ve been unnoticed by the average person, but it might as well have been on a loudspeaker with the super soldier serum in his veins. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you tried to unpack the weight of what you were feeling with those words, with the pet name he’d used before he scooped you up. Somewhere between being both understood and hurt that neither of you had managed to say as much in three days. Your head was clouded by his words and your body seemed to forget that lungs needed air to breathe as his hands were back firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I missed you. I should’ve checked on you.”

Steve hushed you, a welcome end to what you knew would’ve been a word vomit rambling monologue of you unpacking whatever you were feeling. Your eyes met and you wanted to lean forward just a little and see what it was like to kiss him, to see if he would reciprocate, but the panic settled back in your bones and you scolded yourself for even entertaining the thought, gaze falling back to the floor. As you came down from the jittery terror of the elevator and the high of being held by him you remembered the sting of Tony’s speech at the party. To his world, you were certain that he saw you as nothing more than a silly girl with a silly crush.

When you withdrew into yourself again, Steve assumed you were trying to figure out how to ask for some privacy. It had been a long night and even though he thought you were still beautiful with makeup mussed from crying, he didn’t want to put more emotions on the pressure of the day. His thumbs brushed over your hips and he took a step back toward the door. “Take a shower and I’ll pull some clothes for you. I’m going to run down to the gym and take a quick shower there myself and then we’ll forget this day happened and get some sleep.”

He looked down at your hands, fingers now wrapping tightly around his pinky and ring finger. Steve wasn’t sure what you stopping him from walking away meant, but he was too scared to ask. While you had been the first person to understand him on a deeper level since he came out of the ice, you were still from a generation that was much more upfront sexually than he was. As much as he wanted you, that wasn’t something he could just walk into without clear boundaries and commitment. For you, your reluctance to let him go was too embarrassing to put into words, you kept your eyes on your linked hands rather than his face, terrified to find a look of pity or something less emotional written there. You spoke to your hands, giving them a gentle squeeze when you asked, “How long will I be up here alone?”

Tilting his head to the side, the Avenger realized what you meant and he visibly relaxed, “Full of surprises.” With those words, your words, a call to your trip to Spain, you managed to look up at him. When your eyes met you both managed soft, understanding smiles. “Ten minutes tops, put a timer on your phone. If you hear any clanging around it’s Tony fixing the elevator. I promise, you’re safe, okay? We’ve got everything under control and no one, especially me, will let anything happen to you.” It may have been what you needed to hear to let your hands fall from his, but it didn’t change the fact that after Tony’s speech you doubted that anyone was going to rush to save you. Whether Steve really realized that or not was another issue entirely, but you bit your tongue, nodded, and watched him leave.

10… You turned the knob of the shower and looked through the glass at your clothes on the floor. It felt like another life when Steve stammered over complimenting you in the dress and just as you replayed that moment in your mind your brain tugged at the latter events of the evening. You ducked your head under the hot stream of water to try and rinse everything away as your fried nerves seemed to be so eager to push you back into that shaken state.

9… He hissed as the water poured into the small cuts on his back and scalp while his gaze moved to the pile of clothes on the bench next to the shower. Another party, another missed opportunity to steal a dance with a girl he couldn’t get off his mind. The part of him that still loved Peggy was beginning to feel like someone else. He paused under the water, cringing as the water pressure made the fresh bruises on his back throb. The man had no idea how to string a sentence together around either of the two of them.

8… You paused, savoring the smell of Steve’s body wash coating your skin. Immediately, you wanted to run back to him, to the safety that you always found in his arms. The rapid pulse fluttering in your chest neither complete panic or complete anticipation. You only knew that it had more to do with him than the fear of any attack on the Tower.

7… He quickly rinsed off the bubbles of soap, eyes pressed tightly closed as he tried not to picture your bare silhouette through the foggy glass of his shower. That muscle twitched with want and neglect at the thought of the hot water running down your body, the same one that had clung to him for nights on end.

6… Wrapping your arms around yourself under the cascade of water, you pushed away the thoughts creeping into your mind as you became more aware of how alone you were in his space. You tried to remember to breathe, relax, find one happy moment in the day to say it was a day worth surviving. Safety was just a few minutes away, you repeated over and over in your head, but the hot water didn’t seem to be able to reach the cold in your bones.

5… Clearing his throat, he toweled off and practically ran back to his room. Circumnavigating the way he overthought every moment with you until he was back in his room, focusing on the reality of you asking him to stay.

4… You froze, staring at your reflection in his mirror, when you heard the door to the bedroom open and the movement just a few feet away on the other side of the door. The sun-kissed bare-faced reflection looking back looked exhausted, anxious, a weak and fragile stranger.

3… Steve pulled on his clothes quickly in case you came out to see who had walked into the room. Then he grabbed his favorite crewneck sweater, a bit worn in so that it’s once rich-blue color had faded just a little. The sweatpants he piled on top were his only ones with a decent drawstring, which he hoped would help them from falling off of you. As he reached for a pair of socks he remembered how much you hated them, always trying to keep your cold feet off of him in the night and ultimately wiggling out of them on instinct just a few minutes after you were actively asleep.

2… With a sheepish smile you reached a hand out of the bathroom when you heard the knock and tried to take his clothes without dropping his towel- which you couldn’t seem to wrap tightly enough around your curves. Yawning, you dressed as quickly as possible. Grabbing your dirty party ensemble, you caught a glimpse of your clothed reflection. It wasn’t just that you were swimming in his clothes, it was how different you looked with his sweater clinging to your damp skin and sweats threatening to slip lower on your hips- their width and the drawstring your only saving grace.

1… His mouth fell open when you walked out swimming in his clothes. You were too busy throwing your own in your bag to notice. There was no compromise to be had, Steve knew he could never ask for it back now.

Though he’d been laying on the bed, he swung his legs back over and went to stand up. Immediately worrying he was going to leave you panicked and asked, “Wait! Where are you going?”

His eyes stayed on you as he approached you slowly. When he reached you in just a few steps, Steve brushed his fingers through your hair, combing it out of your face. “I promised I wasn’t going anywhere and I-”

“Keep your promises. I know.” You smiled and nodded up at him. “But you also promised we were going to go to bed and forget this day ever happened.”

There was so much he wanted to try and explain, but just like he had with Peggy that morning, he fell silent. The last thing he wanted was for the first time he kissed you to be in a bed, it was why he’d stood up. Now he also didn’t want it to be in the Tower where you’d almost died an hour earlier or in a bedroom where you may have thought he was trying to take advantage of you. He lost his resolve, settling on waiting a little longer. Instead, he looked at you and focused on something small that had been bugging him all night. “I’m sorry you want to forget that today happened, but I understand. Tony can be a bit of an ass. I was really excited that he was going to finally give you the recognition you deserved as a member of the team. I appreciate everything Dr. Cho has done for us, but you’re the one taking care of us day in and day out.”

Throwing your arms around him, you hugged him more tightly than you ever had before. Your hands held his shirt in fists as you refused to let yourself cry anymore for the day. Steve didn’t hesitate to hold you back, rubbing those familiar circles down your spine. He knew that though he couldn’t find you in the crowd tonight he could perfectly picture the disappointment on your face at Tony’s slight and to his surprise it had made his temper flare a little. One thing Steve didn’t know about you though was that when you were completely tired or overly emotional you had a hard time processing in English and the muffled “Thank you” into his chest came out in your first language. That new little realization made him smile.

Pulling you to the bed, you climbed in after Steve and settled closely into his side as you always had. Like two pieces of the same puzzle, a perfect fit. Steve pulled the blankets over the two of you, turned off the light, and while one hand found yours and held it just below his chin, the other went under his sweater to your back. His large hands on your bare skin sent shivers down your spine. It was a welcome surprise that you thought might lead to something else, and you immediately hid your face at the stupidity of such a thought. Steve drew those little circles into your back again and, for the first time, he fell asleep first. The slow rise and fall of his chest, the cadence of his heartbeat, and you were quick to follow. You pressed your lips to his side and he hummed in his sleep and pulled you closer as you drifted off, a million things left unsaid.

A/N: You’re still here!? Thanks for reading Chapter 5! I never promised every chapter’s word would belong to Reader and in this one I think it may even belong more to Peggy than Steve. The over arching theme of Yuánfèn is about Steve and Reader though, don’t worry. I really appreciate you all being so kind and supportive of my little corner of Tumblr while I try to write consistently on a crazy schedule. Your comments and messages mean the world to me.

What do you think will happen when our favorite little idiots wake up in the morning?

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to one of my other tag lists.

#fic: steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #writer: writerwrites

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thekryptonianandthecitygirl · 3 years

Note

Clark on the things he loves/notices about Lois

As he gently puts her down, she squeezes his arms in gratitude and smiles, shouting her thanks over the loud noise of the helicopter.

It’s a nice smile, he thinks.

Clark smiles back.

____________________________________________

She’s bold. Brave, determined - oh, so very determined.

He’d suspected that since the very first moment, when the lieutenant congratulated her over her pieces about the First Division, and she’d chuckled, claiming that she got writer’s block if she wasn’t wearing a flak jacket. Clark had made a mental note to check out her articles.

And then, it’s just - one thing after another. The way she stands up to the general in that tent, setting things up straight as she calls him out on his dick measuring competition. The insolent smile and snarky comment she left him with, when he hoped to faze her with poor sleeping arrangements.

The way she wanders alone in the freezing cold, follows a stranger, and gets out her camera as she comes face to face with an alien machine.

When he gathers her in his arms that night, carefully carrying her out for her to be found as soon as the ship leaves, Clark can’t help but linger a little on her face. Sleeping, slightly whiten with the pain, she almost looks fragile.

The last few hours alone are enough for him to know how much looks can be deceiving.

Adjusting her coat around her, Clark gets up and slowly backs away towards his ship, and thinks that he’s probably never encountered someone so driven, something a little like awe building up in his stomach.

____________________________________________

She…accepts him.

When he tells her his story, the story of how he let his own father die simply not to be discovered, the story he’s most ashen of, Clark expects her disgust. A flinch, a few babbling and awkward words - at the very least, a look in her clear eyes that tells him just how terrible a person he is.

Instead, all he finds is compassion. Understanding, somehow.

She doesn’t publish anything.

In fact, she protects him, refusing to unveil any information about him when he knows the military must have tried to be pretty persuasive. But Lois doesn’t say a word.

Instead, she teases him about his costume, a smirk on her lips and a glimmer in her eyes in that interrogation room as if they weren’t being watched by angry-looking US soldiers. As if a Kryptonian one isn’t on his way to them, about to change the world forever.

He thinks he’s halfway in love with her already, and then she reaches out to him and holds his hand as they stand in the middle of the desert. For a brief moment, he feels the crushing weight of the loneliness he’s been bearing lighten a little. His chest tightens.

Clark wishes he could tell her again how much her kindness means to him. A kindness he’s rarely, so rarely felt before. One he could never repay.

The words don’t come, though, and so he simply squeezes back, hoping she understands.

____________________________________________

After it’s all over, after he’s snapped the life out of the only one of his people left, after he’s fallen on his knees, she’s here.

She holds him close, a reassuring hand on his shoulder protecting him from the world, from himself. Her fingers thread in his hair as she whispers that it’s okay, that he’s saved them all. That it wasn’t his fault, and that she’s here.

He holds on to her as if she’s the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him safe. In that moment, she is.

He’s not really sure how long they stay here, or how she gets him to stand. She does, though, and, thanks to her, he manages to get enough of a grip of himself to start helping with the rescue of the people that have survived.

(Before he goes, she squeezes his hand and kisses his cheek, whispering to him that she’ll be here when he’s done. Her eyes, soft, her voice, confident despite the chaos that’s surrounding her. Her own city, turned to ashes.)

He doesn’t see her for weeks, after that. Three, to be exact.

He’s counted every day.

He rescues as many as he can, helps with clearing out the ruins, follows the instructions to begin the reconstruction. Metropolis, Smallville, the whole Pacific area. There’s so much to do.

He only stops to check on his mother and repair the house, or when he starts to feel his strength leave him despite having recharged. The first time it happens, he’s been at it for a little over 48 hours straight.

He’s a little afraid to show up at her doorstep after so long, but he does anyway. When she spots him waiting from her elevator and throws herself into his arms, her grocery bag falling heavily on the ground in her haste, Clark feels like he can properly breathe for the first time in days.

In the weeks that follow, she helps him. Clark wonders if she’ll ever stop doing that, and finds himself selfishly hoping that she never does. She helps him help them, in a reconstruction effort that feels more and more possible each day. She forces him to rest and eat and sleep, hands on her hips and what he soon begins to recognize as a ‘this is not up for discussion’ face. She paces back and forth in her small living room as they try to find out what job could fit him, beams when they do. She helps him for days and days until he has a convincing application to send to Perry.

When he gets hired at the Daily Planet, she whispers to him how proud she is, and Clark feels like his heart might burst out of his chest.

She does all that, makes it all possible, and next to that, she does everything else.

Her articles on the attack, and then on the reconstruction, break records in online reading. She helps her neighbours, goes out to stay with Jenny one night when the young intern relives the whole thing all over again. She volunteers.

Clark can see it in her eyes, though. The shadow there sometimes, when they fall on unattended ruins, or pass by that café she used to like, and is now nothing more than dust. How she tears up sometimes, whenever they broadcast images of the invasion. The nightmares.

(He holds her, keeping her close at night. Listening to her quiet confessions as they lay in her bed. He wishes he could do more.)

But, despite all of that, she keeps going - always. Keeps him going, never complaining, her resolve never wavering.

She’s strong, a force of nature, and Clark wonders what he possibly did to deserve her.

____________________________________________

When he first tells her that her heartbeat is the sound he now focuses on to drown out the world’s noise and stay sane, he hears it skip a beat.

Seconds pass, and she’s still not saying anything - she simply stares at him, mouth a little agap. They’re in her bed, him sitting against the headboard and her straddling him, and the soft hands that were cupping his face have now fallen to his neck.

He’s terrified.

He should have known better, of course. Six months isn’t that long, and knowing that an alien that you’ve known for such a short time is monitoring you like this is probably something no one wants to hear. Her heartbeat is skyrocketing now, just like his own, and he hates himself for scaring her like that. For letting himself get carried away, when he knows that’s something he can never afford.

He’s about to tell her, to apologize and promises he’ll stop, that he’ll even leave right now to give her some space, but then she kisses him, soft and tender as her fingers thread in his hair.

When he opens his eyes, she’s already looking at him.

“I love you,” she says. In his chest, he feels like his heart explodes.

____________________________________________

He’s in love with Lois Lane.

And he likes her smile, likes her drive and kindness. Her strength.

But then, there’s hundreds of other things, too. Things that make her Lois, and that make him fall a little deeper for her every day. How he can love her more and more than he already does, he has no idea.

It’s those eyes, clear and deep and piercing, just like her. How she says his name. The beauty mark on her hip, the freckles on her skin. The way she always falls asleep drooling on him during movie night, but will never admit to it. The small, happy sigh she makes when he comes back after a night of being Superman, and curls his body around hers.

There’s the way she always fights against injustice, whether it is standing up against racial discrimination one day where they’re shopping, or publishing a two-part story to take down a corrupted politician.The glimmer in her eye when she’s got a new lead, and the unapologetic pride when her article turns into a success. The smile full of that same pride when he comes home after having saved the day once again.

It’s everything, he realizes. He loves everything about her.

When she offers that they move in together, there’s something close to worry on her face as she waits for him to speak. If only she knew.

Chuckling, Clark leans down and kisses her, whispering his answer against her lips.

#clark x lois #clois #lois lane #clark kent #man of steel #fics #this has been sitting in my computer for years #so sorry for the delay #i'm back writing these two and i have writer's block on my Justice League follow up #so feel free to send asks #clois fics

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littlelovelyspiderling · 4 years

Text

Mending

ever wondered what happens when you have too many ideas and want to do them all immediately so you cram them into one story even though it doesn’t make any sense?? this. this is what happens

What if Zuko was the one struck by Azula's attack in The Chase? And what if instead of fire, it was lightning? An exploration of what would have occurred between Zuko, Iroh, and the Gaang in that scenario. Hint -- the Gaang has a LOT of fun messing with him.

word count: 29,650

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It happened so fast. Unbelievably fast.

One second, Azula was standing in front of them, trapped and outnumbered, raising her hands in defeat. They’d beaten her; they’d won. It should’ve been over. Then, with a single sweep of her arm, a bolt of lightning shot from her fingertips, zipping toward Iroh too quickly, too close range for him to react in time to redirect it.

She had been aiming at him. It should’ve been him getting hit, him doubling over, him collapsing lifelessly to the ground. So why was his nephew suddenly flying in front of him? Why did the lightning strike him instead? How could he have predicted what was about to happen, let alone moved in time to take the blow?

Why did the world dip into slow motion as the electricity coursed through his body? Flashing, cracking, sizzling—coiling like neon blue snakes? Why couldn’t he move as he watched Zuko fall? Why didn’t he reach out and catch him? Why did his screams sound distant even though he was right there, convulsing at his feet?

Why did the stench of burning flesh have to smell so familiar?

“Zuko!”

The avatar and his gang threw everything they had at the princess. But in a flash of blue flame, heat and smoke exploded across the battlefield. When the air cleared, she was gone. Zuko lied where he’d fallen, motionless and silent.

Iroh dropped to his knees. “No—Zuko—no.” A large hole was seared through the fabric on the upper left side of his chest. The skin that was visible was red and raw. His eyes were closed and his muscles were slack. He looked asleep—peaceful, even.

It was too similar. Too real. His last day in Ba Sing Se roared back to the present with a ferocious vengeance. With trembling hands, Iroh cradled the boy’s head.

“Nephew...can you hear me? Zuko…please...”

Once they’d determined the threat was gone, the group gazed upon the gut-wrenching scene, stunned. A cold knot formed in Aang’s belly. Zuko had been hurt—bad. Zuko was their enemy. They’d been fighting each other not even thirty seconds ago. But the old general he called his uncle had always seemed strangely neutral. He’d never actively fought against any of them. Back in the Northern Water Tribe, he’d helped them save the moon spirit—and in turn, the entire world.

However evil Zuko was, Aang didn’t want him to die. The old man clearly cared about him. And the sound of his sobs…

He looked to Katara. The war raging in her soul gleamed in the whites of her eyes. She caught his gaze, grimacing bitterly, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“Katara,” Toph said, the weight of the situation heavy in her voice. The others held their breath, glancing between Zuko and the waterbender. Slowly, the anger drained from her expression.

She stepped toward the old man, extending her hand. “I—I can help,” she said. “I can heal him, if you’ll let me.”

“Katara!” Sokka protested. She ignored him. Iroh looked at her over his shoulder, eyes red and pleading.

That was all the confirmation she needed. Katara rushed to Zuko’s other side, kneeling opposite of Iroh. She streamed a line of water from her pouch and cloaked it around her hands.

“What are you doing?” Sokka snapped. “He’s our enemy!”

“He’s hurt,” Katara retorted coldly. “He needs my help.”

“I d-don’t think he’s breathing,” Iroh stammered, clutching the teenager like he’d disintegrate if he let him go. “Is he—is his heart—I c-can’t tell if he’s—”

“He’s breathing,” Toph assured him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I can feel it. His heart’s beating, too.” She closed her eyes. “But...they’re both very weak.”

It tore her up, feeling Iroh shiver against the ground, hearing his voice quake with fear. She’d only spoken to him once, but in their short conversation, he’d proved himself to be a wise, kind person who would do anything for his troubled nephew. They couldn’t let him die, if only for Iroh’s sake.

Katara held her hands over the injury, the water following its path through his body. The damage was deep and gruesome. Streams of burnt flesh fanned out from the entry wound across the majority of his torso, snaked down his left leg, then re-concentrated at the bottom of his foot, where the lightning must have exited.

“This is bad,” she admitted, her gaze shifting to Zuko’s face. He’d never looked so fragile to her before—so small. His weird bald ponytail look was gone; he’d chopped it off and let his hair start growing out. It was short, fuzzy, and—dare she say—cute, comparatively. It also aged him down, making him look less like a scary Fire Nation soldier and more like a teenager.

“It’s going to take me awhile. We should find somewhere safe to move him.”

Iroh sniffled and wiped his eyes, holding Zuko’s head in his lap and running a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he said. “Yes, let’s—yes. Okay.”

It took him a minute to stand. He kept his palm cupped under Zuko’s head, never letting it touch the ground. Once he was on his feet, Katara and Aang helped lift his nephew into his arms.

“Thank you,” the old man whimpered. “Thank you all s-so much...” Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he held Zuko close to his chest. Aang offered him a small smile.

“Let’s head back toward the river,” Katara said, returning the water to her pouch. “Appa should be waiting for us there. We can set up camp in the surrounding forest.”

As she walked past Sokka, he gave her a what is wrong with you look. She shot back with a glare of her own, which shut him up for the time being.

That lasted about two minutes. As Katara led the way, Sokka jogged to catch up with her, keeping his voice low.

“You do realize how crazy this is, don’t you?”

Katara narrowed her eyes but didn’t respond.

“We’re helping Zuko. You know, royal Fire Nation psycho freak? Ozai’s devil spawn? The guy who's been chasing us around and terrorizing us since we first met Aang? The dude who wants nothing more than to kill us all and drag our friend back to the Fire Nation like a prized turkey pig?”

“You think I want to help him?” Katara snapped, holding her shoulders tight as she walked. “He’ll die if I don’t heal him. Are you saying we should just let him die?”

Sokka swallowed and stared at his feet. “I...no. I don’t know. I just...don’t see any version of this ending well.”

“I know it’s weird,” Aang concurred, glancing back at Iroh nervously. “But...we have to help him. It’s the right thing to do.”

“What if one of us got shot full of lightning?” Sokka retorted. “You think Prince Jerkbender would do anything to help us? Of course not. He would exploit the situation to try to capture Aang.”

“His uncle would help,” Toph said.

Aang smiled solemnly. “Exactly. Don’t think of it as helping Zuko. Think of it as helping Iroh not be sad.” He blinked, his eyes darkening. “He seems...really scared and shaken.”

“It boggles my mind that he cares about him so much. That old man’s kindness is completely wasted on a selfish moron like Zuko.”

Iroh moaned suddenly, causing the group to freeze in place and turn around. The Fire Nation general was trailing far behind them, flushed and sweaty. His knees were wobbling under the burden of Zuko’s weight.

“I’m so sorry,” he grated out. “S’my old joints. Please...could someone…”

Slowly, all eyes swiveled to Sokka. It took him a moment to notice the sudden onslaught of attention. He glanced between his friends, spluttering.

“What?” he exclaimed. “Why me?”

Aang shrugged. “Out of all of us, you’re probably the strongest.”

“But I don’t want to carry the angry jerk!” he whined, stamping his feet.

Katara placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t want to, or you’re not strong enough to?” she retorted smugly.

Sokka knew she was baiting him, but with a huff, he decided to bite. All of them were exhausted; Azula and her tank of dangerous ladies had made sure of that. The sooner they got to camp, the sooner they could rest.

“Fine,” he grumbled. He marched back toward Iroh, griping sourly under his breath. “Here—gimme.”

Sokka knelt down and let Iroh drape Zuko over his back. Sokka wrapped his arms under his knees and hoisted his weight forward, bundling the unconscious prince into the world’s most unhappy piggyback ride.

Once he was secure, Sokka rose upright and stomped after Katara, face gnarled with irritation. “Happy now?” he said. “If he wakes up and roasts me alive, I’m blaming you.”

“Please be careful with him,” Iroh said nervously, tailing Sokka with his hands out like he was going to drop his nephew at any moment.

Sokka rolled his eyes but held Zuko a little tighter. “Yeah, yeah,” he murmured.

Ten minutes later, they reached the river. Appa was snoring peacefully beneath a tree with Momo nestled in his fur. The sun poked above the horizon line, casting blood red beams across the water.

As Aang gathered their blankets and sleeping bags from Appa’s saddle, Katara yawned and pointed at an alcove between two evergreens. “Toph, could you make us an earth tent? One big enough for all of us to fit.”

Toph jabbed her fists out then up, forming a large, triangle-shaped structure. The gang staggered inside, blinking and rubbing their sleepy eyes, with Iroh close behind.

“Lay him down here,” Katara instructed. Aang spread their spare blanket across the ground while Sokka unraveled himself from the lifeless firebender.

“You know, you’re a lot heavier than you look, your highness,” Sokka scoffed. “Might want to lay off the fire gummies. And your obsessive rage-fueled quest of evil against me and my friends.”

Iroh hurried to Sokka’s aid. The two of them worked together to gently guide Zuko to the ground. Aang tucked Sokka’s Water Tribe jacket under his head as a pillow.

“But that’s…!” Sokka began, then sunk in defeat. “Oh, whatever.”

“He looks so still,” Iroh breathed. He petted Zuko’s hair and ran his thumb along his cheek, tears glistening in his eyes. “Oh, nephew. How could I let this happen…?”

Again?

Katara re-soaked her hands in water and sat on Zuko’s left. “I’ll help him as much as I can,” she said, expression steely. She stifled another yawn, then got to work.

The moon was high in the sky by the time she was done. The wound was still bad, but edging away from life-threatening. Her friends had fallen asleep long ago; she and Iroh were the only one’s left awake. She would’ve kept going, but at this point, she could barely keep her eyes open.

“He’ll need a few more sessions to heal properly,” she said, streaming the water back into her pouch and rising to her feet, “and a lot of rest. I’ll start again in the morning.”

“Thank you, young lady,” Iroh said, bowing his head. “I owe you and your friends an insurmountable debt. I know how you all must feel about my nephew, but…” He swallowed, voice wavering. “He—he’s very important to me. I know he is capable of great good, he’s just...been through a lot.”

Katara wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t want to entertain the possibility that Zuko was or ever could be an actual human being with feelings—not after all the pain and trouble he’d put them through. Regardless of how his uncle saw him, he was still their enemy: a Fire Nation scumbag determined to capture their friend and rid the world of its last emblem of hope. Healing him was a reflection of her own kindness, and a courtesy to Iroh; it had nothing to do with Zuko himself. Having the capacity for good wasn’t enough; he’d never acted on it, which rendered it meaningless.

Katara glared at the ground. “If he wakes up…” she began.

“He will be no trouble to you,” Iroh assured her. “You have my word.”

She trusted him, though she wasn’t sure why. He was just as much Fire Nation as Zuko, but his aura and levelness reminded her of her father. Someone inclined to protect the wellbeing of others, and who never broke their promises. Still, she wasn’t letting her guard down.

She eyed the large red splotch on Zuko’s chest. “Even if I can fully heal him, he’ll probably still be left with a scar.”

Iroh blanched, but kept his expression stony. “I see,” he said. His somber gaze shifted to his nephew’s face. “That is okay. He can handle it.” His fingers carded through Zuko’s hair, lingering around his left eye. “It won’t be his first time being scarred by a family member.”

Something cold coiled around Katara’s heart. Her eyes flickered toward the dark, leathery burn marring half of the prince’s face before quickly jerking away. Someone in his family did that to him? She’d never thought much about Zuko’s scar—just that it marked him as an individual, distinguished him as their enemy, and made him all the more scary-looking for it. She hadn’t really considered how he’d gotten it, or what significance that might carry.

Her curiosity was officially piqued, but she knew better than to ask. She turned away indignantly. What does it matter, anyway? A bad home life doesn’t warrant a lifetime of evil.

No amount of sob stories would ever make Zuko deserving of her sympathy.

“Goodnight,” she said, curling up beside her friends.

“Goodnight,” he replied. He scooted behind Zuko and lifted his head into his lap, periodically checking his pulse as he petted his hair. It didn’t look like he was planning to go to sleep anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world that Zuko woke to was bright and painful. A beam of sunlight was shining directly into his eyes, making him squint and blink. He tried to shift to escape the harsh glow, but he couldn’t seem to move.

Maybe it had something to do with the bone-deep agony radiating through his entire body.

It started underneath his left shoulder and pulsed out from there, feverish and nauseating. His foot surged with a similar ache, but to a less heated degree. Every feeble attempt to move made it a hundred times worse. Even breathing was excruciating.

Ugh, he thought, gritting his teeth. His mind was hazy; his skull felt like it was full of stones. Wha…?

He blinked, and a blinding blue flash exploded behind his eyelids. He jolted as the memory returned, his hand flying to his shoulder.

Azula. Outnumbered. Defeated. But...she attacked. Uncle. Had to protect him. Jumped between them. Then…

A cataclysmic thrum of unimaginable pain. After that, everything had clapped to darkness.

Grimacing, Zuko slid one hand underneath his body and pushed against the ground. The effort left him dizzy and gasping, but he managed to lift himself off the floor and into a sitting position, his bare back resting against the stone wall behind him. He sat that way for a while, panting and moaning, gripping his chest where the pain throbbed like a second heartbeat.

Azula had done this to him. Figured. Had she captured the avatar and dragged him home to Father while he was out, taking away his only chance of ever redeeming his honor?

He looked down at his shoulder, lifting his hand away from the skin. A large, red scar lied underneath, blistered and swollen and still relatively fresh. The splotchy, scarlet circle was the only visible evidence left by Azula’s attack, although he could feel its harrowing effect in every muscle of his body. It looked slightly different than the mark on his face—felt different, too. But not different enough.

Another burn. Another scar. At least this one he could hide.

But man, did it hurt.

He tore his gaze away from the wound and scanned his surroundings, blinking the sleepy sheen from his eyes. He was in some kind of tall, tent-like structure made of earth. The ground around him was littered with blankets, bags, and other miscellaneous items. Not Uncle’s belongings, he realized. Zuko’s throat tightened.

He’d have to worry about dealing with Azula later. For now…

Where in the world am I?

Voices reached his ears, making him perk up in alarm. Someone calling from afar, followed by a cheerful laugh.

“Hold on—let me grab my staff!”

Footsteps approached, quick but light. A few moments later, a figure jogged into the tent, silhouetted by sunshine. Zuko squinted against the harsh brightness, his eyes still bleary with exhaustion.

The individual moved out of the doorway to rummage through a bag on the floor. Only when he stood upright, glider in hand, backlit by the sun but no longer blown out, did his bald head, blue tattoos, and chipper smile become distinguishable.

No way.

“Found it!” the avatar cried. Then his gaze fell upon the injured firebender, who was now sitting upright and visibly conscious, and his eyes bugged out of his skull.

“Ah!” he gasped, flinching back and dropping his staff. Before Zuko had time to react, let alone process what was going on, Aang darted out of the tent, shouting: “He’s awake! Guys! Zuko’s awake!”

Zuko blinked. And suddenly, four people were looming over him, their outlines and features fuzzy-looking. Time seemed to be flying by at double the speed while he was trapped in slow motion. His brain felt like a mushy bowl of jook. Fortunately, he managed to identify the individuals surrounding him.

Unfortunately, they were the last four people he wanted to see right now.

“What the—?” he exclaimed, panic blooming in his chest. He tried to sit up a little straighter, but the movement made his chest flare with pain. He clutched it with a groan, slumping limply against the wall.

“Don’t move,” the small earthbending girl said. “You’re hurt really bad.”

Zuko forced his eyes open, leering between the avatar and his gang, sweating bullets and shivering all over. Why was he shivering so much? Why couldn’t he make it stop? He didn’t just feel hurt; he felt sick. The wound was hot and sticky against his palm.

“W-what are you doing here?” he growled.

“Saving you, that’s what,” Aang retorted. The Water Tribe boy—Sokka, if his memory served—stood beside him, holding his boomerang at the ready.

“Azula attacked you,” he explained. “She shot you full of lightning. You’d be dead if Katara hadn’t helped you.”

Zuko’s stomach turned icy. His eyes wandered to the waterbender, who frowned at him with her hand hovering over her pouch. All of them looked ready to kill him the second he made the wrong move.

Meanwhile, he felt ready to puke.

Why would they save me? That meant they needed him for something. Information? Intel on the Fire Nation? A ransom hostage? Fat chance he’d be helpful on any of those accounts. They could turn him over to his father, maybe—he was a fugitive of the Fire Nation. Then again, so were they.

Or they were lying about saving him. Maybe they’d kidnapped him after Azula’s attack just so they got to watch him suffer a slow, grisly death. Maybe this was building toward some elaborate form of payback for all the times he’d tried to capture the avatar. His injury wasn’t even bandaged—no medicine in sight, either. What exactly had they done to help him?

“I’ll go get Iroh,” Aang said, jogging out of the tent. Zuko’s fear-fueled fantasies veered into confusion.

What? Uncle’s here? Why? Was he hurt, too? Had the avatar and his friends captured them both? What was going on?

“His fever’s gotten worse,” the earthbender said. It took Zuko a second to realize she was talking about him, and a second longer to realize she had somehow come to this conclusion without even touching him. It made no sense. None of this did. It felt like he was trapped inside some crazy, lucid nightmare.

Katara studied him for a while, her eyes dark and searching. Then she sighed, coating her hands in water. She walked toward him suddenly, making Zuko tense.

“Stay back!” he shouted, gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering. He kept one palm glued to his wound while the other stayed flat against the ground to prevent him from toppling over.

To his disbelief, the waterbender ignored him, sitting by his side with a level expression. Katara stared at Zuko coldly. She’d never realized how golden his irises were. She’d never been this close to see—not while he was awake. When they caught the sunlight, they glinted and shimmered in an almost supernatural way. The eyes of a hunter.

Zuko glared back with his usual scowl. Brows furrowed, teeth bared. He’d always reminded her of a predator. Something wild and ferocious that prowled after the innocent. But today, something was different. Today, Zuko was the prey: trembling, injured, trapped, and scared. His typically scalding gaze was clouded with fear.

Katara held up her hands as she stared him down. The water encasing them glowed a soft blue. “I’m going to help lower your fever,” she stated. “Either you sit still and let me do it, or Toph pins you down and makes you stay still.”

“And if you try firebending, Boomerang is coming for your head,” Sokka added.

Zuko’s skin bristled with goosebumps as chills shuddered up his spine. After the Agni Kai against his father, he recalled contracting an intense fever in response to the terrible burn. It hadn’t lasted long, but it wasn’t pleasant. Uncle had worked diligently to bring it down and comfort him while the physicians tended to his scorched face. It wasn’t a time he liked to remember, but he wondered if that’s what was happening now—if Azula’s burn was afflicting him just like Father’s had.

“I don’t w-want your help,” Zuko hissed. He had no idea what she was planning to do to him, and he wasn’t interested in finding out. Whatever the end goal to all of this was, their intentions were clearly hostile.

Katara shared a look with her brother, then wrinkled her brow. Wordlessly, she reached forward, placing her palm against Zuko’s forehead.

“Hey! What’re you—?” He squirmed away and made a grab for her wrist, but she caught his first, pinning his arm against the wall without moving the hand on his head. He didn’t realize how weak he was until he tried and failed to wriggle free of her hold. The effort it took just to try left him woozy.

“Just—wait,” she instructed sharply. “It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

He considered frying her hand to force her to release him, but Sokka was right there, and he knew how much that boomerang could hurt—even with a helmet on. Plus, he was tired, lightheaded, and now that she mentioned it…

He stopped fighting for a moment, panting. The watery glove around her hand felt like it was seeping through his skull and into his brain, sucking all the heat and pain with it. The pulsing ache in his head eased to a small hum. His feverish chills eased away. Slowly, his muscles relaxed. He blinked, stunned by the sudden and extraordinary relief.

Once she realized he wasn’t trying to escape anymore, she let go of his wrist and pressed both palms to his temples. The assuage increased even more, making Zuko release a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“This should bring your fever down temporarily,” she said. This was not normal waterbending; he knew that much. It was cool, tingly, soothing, almost spiritual in nature. When she took her hands away, he was left feeling exponentially better, though the wound on his shoulder continued to throb. Zuko met her gaze for an instant, pressing a finger to his brow.

“What...what’d you just do?” he asked. Katara stood and stepped back, her expression sour.

“Reduced your pain, even if you deserve every bit of it.”

Anger resurfaced in the prince’s chest. Even though he was still reeling with relief, his eyes cut daggers through hers.

“Then why do it?” he remarked. He gripped his injury tighter. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

“I’ll see if Iroh has any herbal remedies he could give you for a more permanent solution,” Katara continued, ignoring his abrasive inquiry. “But you’ll need plenty of rest to recover completely.”

“Answer my questions!” Zuko yelled, making Sokka and Toph wince. “Why are you keeping me here? What are you planning?”

The shouting roused his wound, making him fall back against the wall with a strained whimper. At that moment, the avatar skipped back into the tent with Iroh on his tail. Zuko glanced up along with the others. As soon as Uncle’s eyes found his, the old man melted.

“See? He’s awake! Told you he’d be all right!”

Iroh didn’t wait for him to finish. He rushed toward his nephew, tripping over sleeping bags and pushing past Sokka with his arms outstretched. “Zuko!” he cried.

“Uncle?” the young prince answered, looking puzzled. He yelped in surprise when Iroh practically tackled him, wrapping him into the biggest platypus bear hug any of them had ever seen.

“Oh, my beautiful nephew!” Iroh blubbered, squeezing the air from his lungs. “I’m so happy you’re all right!”

Zuko squirmed uncomfortably, inexperienced in dealing with such blatant physical affection. “Uncle! What’re you—ouch! Quit it! You’re—crushing me!”

A few giggles slipped from Aang and Toph’s lips. It was an amusing scene—watching the grumpy Fire Nation prince get smothered by his overbearing uncle. Even the Water Tribe siblings hinted smug grins. Aang swore he saw a touch of pink flush across the firebender’s cheeks.

Despite his nephew’s wriggly protests, Iroh clung on to him a little while longer, one hand wrapped around Zuko’s torso while the other cradled the back of his head. Zuko eventually gave up trying to escape and just sat there awkwardly, squished and pouting as he waited for his uncle to get his fill. The gang was relieved to see Iroh happy after so many hours of anxiety.

Once he finally released Zuko from his hold, Iroh’s attention honed in on his nephew’s wound, his hands hovering around the bright red scar. “How bad does it hurt? Are you in terrible pain?”

More like excruciating, Zuko thought. His muscles felt like burnt noodles, his bones like over-roasted komodo chicken legs. But he didn’t need to tell Iroh that—he was already an erratic pyre of stress as it was. He rolled his eyes and shrugged, trying to evoke nonchalance, realizing his mistake too late. A stabbing ache tore through his shoulder and shot down his arm, making him to wince sharply and hiss through his teeth. He grabbed his chest, groaning wearily.

“Stay still, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said, laying the back of his hand against his cheek. “Your body is very weak, and you’re still warmer than usual. I’ll brew you some ginger root tea to reduce the fever.”

Zuko scrunched up his brow and knocked his hand away. “Stop fussing, Uncle,” he grumbled bitterly. “M’fine.”

“Fine?” Iroh repeated. A beat passed where the old man just stared at him, jaw tight, his lower lip trembling. Then, out of nowhere, Uncle seized Zuko by his uninjured shoulder, his eyes flashing with an uncharacteristic rage. “Are you insane? You call this ‘fine?’ What on earth were you thinking?”

Zuko blinked, looking just as surprised as everyone else in the room. He was still recovering from Iroh’s crushing embrace, followed by the sudden burst of pain. Now he was yelling at him?

“What?” Zuko said, startled.

“Why would you throw yourself in between me and Azula like that?” he shouted. “That lightning should have hit me, not you!”

It wasn’t like Uncle to shout. Uncle only shouted when it was for a very specific and important purpose. He wasn’t like the Fire Lord—or Zuko, for that matter.

“You’d rather I just sat there and let you take the hit?” Zuko scoffed in disbelief. “Azula was trying to kill you!”

“And she very nearly killed you!” Iroh retorted, making Zuko shrink back a little. “If it wasn’t for the kindness of these children, you’d be dead right now! First in the North Pole, and again today!”

Zuko grimaced and turned away, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “I never asked for their help.”

Iroh gave him a quick shake, making the young prince tense. “You shouldn’t even be needing it! You have to stop putting yourself in danger like this!”

Zuko didn’t understand why he was so angry with him. He huffed toward the ground. “This is exactly why I didn’t want us traveling together anymore. You worry too much.”

“Because you don’t worry enough!” Iroh roared. “You seem perfectly fine with throwing your life away over nothing!”

“I was trying to protect you, Uncle!” Zuko exclaimed, shoving his hand off his shoulder. “Is your life nothing?”

“Yes!” Iroh snarled. He cupped his nephew’s face in his hands, his eyes like fire. “Compared to yours, yes! My life is nothing, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko’s scowl fell, replaced by a look of sickly confusion. The tent plunged into sudden silence. Aang and his friends felt like they were intruding on a very private moment, but now they were too intrigued not to see how this ended.

“Why...would you say that?” Zuko asked uneasily. He pulled Iroh’s hands away from his face. “That’s not—”

“I’ve lived my life, nephew,” Uncle insisted. “If I died today, I’d die a happy, fulfilled old man. But you are just a boy, my prince, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. You have so much life left to live. If you died…”

Uncle shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, bowing low to ground, as if the thought physically hurt him. Zuko didn’t know what to say. Tears started slipping down Iroh’s cheeks and dripping into the grass.

“Uncle…” Zuko began softly. A moment later, his eyes lurched up to the four others occupying the room and grew wide, as if he’d forgotten they were there. He leered at them with a mixture of loathing and embarrassment, feeling strange and exposed by their prying gazes, until Uncle listed forward, burying his face into his chest.

“Don’t m-make me endure it again, Zuko,” Iroh wept, hugging the prince with all the love and pain in the universe. “Don’t make me watch another son die...”

Guilt and sorrow surged into Zuko’s throat. He knew Iroh cared for him—knew he liked to pretend that he was his own now that Lu Ten was gone. But to this day, he didn’t understand why. Zuko had done nothing to earn Iroh’s love; he actively pushed him away and treated him like garbage just to prove it, testing how much it would take to get it to break. But no matter what he tried, Iroh’s love persisted: unbending and unconditional. It was perplexing, illogical, infuriating—and wonderful.

Uncle’s love wasn’t like Ozai’s. Uncle’s love wasn’t something he had to beg and fight and compete for. It was just...there. Always. And he had no idea how to deal with it.

As Iroh cried into his shoulder, Zuko placed an awkward hand on his arm in attempt to calm him, wincing at the anguish in his sobs. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—” he stammered, grappling for the words to make him stop.

“It would’ve killed me, Zuko,” Iroh wept, holding him close. “If you d-died saving me, I would have died anyway. I couldn’t bear it. Not again…”

Zuko watched his Uncle sniffle and shake, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t understand it. He doubted he ever would. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. He cursed the wobble that snuck into his voice.

“I think we should go,” Toph whispered, jerking her thumb toward the exit. The group nodded in agreement. None of them had ever seen Zuko so vulnerable before—physically, emotionally, or otherwise. He obviously reciprocated Iroh’s love, even if he wasn’t as good at expressing it as him. It was obnoxiously heartwarming.

“No,” Iroh said, sitting up suddenly, running the heels of his hands under his puffy eyes. “No, please stay.” He turned to Zuko, placing a palm against his back. “My nephew has something he’d like to say to you.”

Zuko’s soft expression twisted into a look of disgust. “What?”

“These people saved your life on two different occasions, Prince Zuko—despite all the trouble we’ve caused them. The least you can do is thank them for their generosity.”

The firebender’s golden gaze bore ferociously into his uncle’s, then swept across the four kids standing around them. His signature scowl returned with a vengeance.

“There’s a reason besides generosity that they did it,” Zuko hissed, flinching and grabbing his wounded shoulder. “I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.”

Katara placed her hands on her hips. “We did it because we’re not monsters,” she shot back. “And because your uncle cares about you. Why, I have no idea—but we didn’t want him to lose his nephew.”

Zuko lunged toward her with a growl, but Iroh held him back, which did not take much effort.

“Enough, Zuko,” he scolded him. “The reason they helped you does not matter. The fact is, they helped you. And that alone warrants your gratitude.”

The injured prince glowered at them, gritting his teeth. Iroh was kidding himself if he thought he was going to get a ‘thank you’ to cross his insufferable nephew’s lips.

“Trust me, Prince Zuko—it is far more honorable to thank your rival for sparing your life than to hold your tongue out of senseless pride.” He placed a hand on his head and ruffled his hair. “Go on.”

Zuko ducked out of his reach and scratched his scalp irritably. The group waited for him to blow up, to spit fire and fury and tell all of them to go jump in the river. His glare alone could sear clean through stone.

But to everyone’s disbelief, the flames in his eyes were gradually superseded by something else. A lifetime of exhaustion, misery, and defeat. His golden irises suddenly looked dull; his expression grew heavy with sadness. He grimaced at the wall, still trembling a little from his fever.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he spat, squeezing his eyes shut. “But...thank you.”

A moment later, Zuko did a quick motion, placing the heel of his left palm on top of his right fist and dipping his head toward the ground. If someone blinked, they would’ve missed it—but the gang recognized the rapid gesture as a Fire Nation bow, done as a sign of respect and humility. It was fast and awkward, but it was genuine. Then Zuko turned his back to them, frowning at the corner of the tent, hunching his shoulders and kneading his wound with his thumb.

Katara, Sokka, and Toph walked outside, but Aang stayed behind, smiling wide. Even though he wasn’t looking, Aang repeated the movement back to Zuko. Iroh beamed at him delightedly, then patted his nephew’s arm.

“Get some rest, Prince Zuko. I’ll be back soon with the tea and some soup.”

Zuko didn’t acknowledge him as he got up and left with the others. He just stared at the wall, feeling small, broken, and weak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Iroh prepared the meal, the avatar and his crew sat around the fire in a misshapen semi-circle, each occupied with their own projects. Aang polished his staff, Sokka sharpened his boomerang, Katara sewed a tear in her dress, and Toph played with Momo, making little pegs of earth pop up from the ground for him to chase.

The silence was suffocating.

Sokka kept shooting looks at his friends, as if to say is no one going to acknowledge how strange this is? They had two Fire Nation royalty with them, one of which was making them dinner, while the other (who had tried to kill them on many, many occasions) was sleeping hardly twenty feet away. When he couldn’t bear it any longer, he cleared his throat, painting an awkward grin on his face.

“So...uh...Iroh. General Iroh? Or—Prince Iroh? Or—?”

The old man chuckled. “Just Iroh is fine.” He swirled a ladle through the steaming broth. The aroma was thick and spicy. “Would anyone care for some ginseng soup?”

Everyone raised their hand, bringing a smile to his face. He filled four bowls to the brim and handed one to each of the kids. Once the group had been served, Iroh sat among them, sipping his own meal while monitoring the tea.

“Wow, this is great!” Sokka said, slurping noisily. He wiped his mouth and eyed the old man with a frown. “Not to be rude or anything, but...you seem like a pretty okay guy. Why do you waste your time trying to help your evil nephew?”

“Sokka!” Katara rebuked him, making him wince.

“What? It’s a valid question! He’s so polite and nice, even if he is Fire Nation. Zuko, on the other hand...”

Iroh rested his bowl in his lap, watching the soup wobble and glint in the sunlight. He sighed softly. “I know you all dislike my nephew. And after everything he’s done, you have every right to. He is a conflicted person who has made many mistakes.” He lifted his gaze. “But I’ve known Zuko since the day he was born, and I know the goodness that lies within him.”

Katara huffed dubiously, sipping her dinner in short bouts. Sokka frowned behind his soup mustache. Meanwhile, Aang and Toph listened curiously, spooning heaps of broth into their bellies. Momo leaned over Aang’s shoulder and lapped up a few mouthfuls from his bowl.

“I was on a path not dissimilar from his for most of my life. Obsessed with honor and power, as well as my place in the Fire Nation. It took immense pain and suffering for me to realize the error of my ways and to start on a new journey. One focused on restoring balance to the world and protecting peace.”

His words struck Katara like an arrow through the heart. “Your son?” she said hesitantly, remembering his words from before. Iroh closed his eyes and nodded his head.

“Yes. Lu Ten.”

“But how is helping Zuko capture Aang protecting peace?” Sokka asked bluntly. “You’d be destroying it.”

Iroh chuckled. “I haven’t exactly been helpful in my nephew’s pursuit of the avatar. That has never been my goal. I travel with him because I’m all he has left.” He lowered his gaze. “Now that he and I have been declared fugitives of the Fire Nation, I suppose he’s all I have, too.”

Aang gawked. “Fugitives? You mean the Fire Nation considers Zuko a criminal?”

He recalled that it had been Zuko who busted him out of the Fire Nation prison Zhao had locked him up in. Zuko, wielding dual swords and wearing a blue mask, had helped him escape. To this day, he never understood why he’d risked his life to free him. Was it really all because he wanted to capture the avatar himself?

Had the Fire Nation found out what he did that night, and branded him a traitor?

“Zuko was banished from the Fire Nation when he was thirteen, and has been living in exile ever since. But only recently has the Fire Lord labeled him fugitive.” Iroh stroked his beard. “Why, I’m not entirely sure—though I have my suspicions.”

Katara and Sokka exchanged a startled glance. Zuko was banished from his own country? At thirteen?

“Why was he banished in the first place?” Toph asked, voicing the question in everyone’s mind.

Iroh finished off his soup and placed his bowl to the side, his eyes dark. He knew Zuko wouldn’t approve of him sharing his life story with his so-called enemies. But perhaps if they knew how he ended up in the place he was today, they could begin to understand the why, and maybe even aid him on his journey to see the light. Iroh heaved a lofty sigh.

“It is my fault, I am afraid. I let him attend a war meeting even though I knew the risks. It is one of my greatest regrets.” He bowed his head. “The Fire Nation is very strict about knowing one’s place and staying quiet in certain social situations. When I granted him permission to join us, I warned him not to speak. But when one of the generals suggested we use a group of new recruits as bait for our next attack against the Earth Kingdom, that we send a bunch of kids into what would very likely wind up a suicide mission—Zuko denounced him in front of the highest ranking war authorities in the Fire Nation.”

His nephew’s words echoed hollowly in his skull. You can’t sacrifice an entire battalion like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation. How could you betray them?

The four friends stared at him in tense silence. Iroh poured himself a cup of tea as the fire cracked and fizzled.

“Zuko was right, of course. But his actions were considered extraordinarily disrespectful. He was forced to fight an Agni Kai—a fire duel—in front of the entire royal court. He thought it would be against the elderly general he’d interrupted. Instead, when he turned around, he found himself standing face-to-face with Ozai, his father.”

The icy claw from before seized Katara’s heart with a newfound frigidness. She had a feeling she already knew where this was leading, but the thought still chilled her to her core.

“His dad...wanted to fight him?” Sokka inquired. “Or he was forced to?”

“Ozai is the Fire Lord—the supreme leader of the country. He could have easily pardoned Zuko and moved on. My brother chose to fight his own thirteen-year-old son willingly and zealously.” Iroh grimaced. “Ozai has detested Zuko since he was a child, always favoring his sister Azula above him. He’s been searching for a way to revoke Zuko’s birthright to the throne since Azula began to overshadow him in firebending prowess. Speaking out in a war meeting granted him the perfect excuse to do just that.”

The air was still. Toph suddenly felt guilty for once believing her parents were the worst the universe could bestow. Momo trilled and pawed at Aang’s ear. The avatar leaned toward Iroh anxiously.

“What happened next?”

The old man sipped his steaming cup, his expression sad and distant. “I thought by this point, the whole world knew what happened that day. Fire Nation parents tell the story to their children to scare them into obedience and allegiance to their country.”

None of the kids spoke up. They just stared at him, wide-eyed. So Iroh continued.

“Zuko threw himself to the ground, begging for his father’s forgiveness. Ozai commanded him to fight, but he refused to attack his own father.”

The cup was suddenly trembling in his hands. His knuckles were stiff and white. “I...I should have stopped him. I should have protected Zuko. He was just a child, you know? And he was so afraid...”

Iroh gazed at the grass between his feet. Tiny flowers shuddered and danced in the breeze.

“Ozai...did not show him mercy,” he said, voice ominous. “After the duel, Zuko’s refusal to fight was pronounced weak and disgraceful—behaviors unfit for a prince of the Fire Nation. And so, the Fire Lord banished him. He was tasked with capturing the avatar,” he noted grimly, turning to Aang. “A purposely impossible mission at the time, since you had been missing for over a hundred years with no sign of returning. It was meant to keep Zuko from ever coming back to the Fire Nation. But Ozai claimed that if Zuko found you and brought you to him, he would restore his son’s honor and welcome him home with open arms.” He looked away, face solemn. “And that is what he’s been trying to do ever since.”

Appa grunted from his shady spot by the river. The air between the four friends suddenly felt cold. It was a lot to process. It explained a few of the things many of them had always been confused about when it came to Zuko, but gave rise to multiple entirely new questions they’d never even thought to consider. Katara lifted her hand toward her left eye.

“Is that…” she began reluctantly. “You said a family member gave that to him—the scar on his face.”

Iroh blinked slowly, miserably. “Yes,” he replied. “His father did that to him. He burned his own son while he lay prostrate before him, pleading for mercy.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “Out of all the horrors I’ve witnessed throughout this war, watching my brother scar and banish that boy is among the cruelest. I doubt the memory will ever leave my mind.”

Shocked silence gripped the group. So that was where Zuko’s scar had come from. Not a training misfire, not some careless childhood mistake—but an intentional brand from his father to mark him as an unwanted outsider. A couple more seconds passed before Sokka scoffed, throwing his hands in the air.

“This is insane! If Ozai really did do all these terrible things to him, then why is he so obsessed with capturing Aang and returning home? If I was Zuko, I’d be relieved to be banished and away from that psycho. The guy’s a total monster!”

Iroh released a slow breath. “It is hard to understand my nephew’s logic from the outside. But please, try to put yourself in his position. He was cast out—renounced and rebuked by his home and his people, those he had been taught to depend on. His own father disowned him. One tiny mistake cost him everything: the crown, his honor, and his family. Now, exiled from his country, where else can he hope to go? The entire world despises the Fire Nation for the atrocities they have committed. As the banished son of the Fire Lord, no nation is safe for Zuko. He believes his only choice is to bring his father the avatar. That only he can restore everything he lost. That if he can complete the mission Ozai bestowed upon him, their relationship will somehow be different. He thinks he is capable of winning the Fire Lord’s love by delivering you to him. It gives him hope.”

The old man withered. “I don’t have the heart to tell him the truth, to take that hope away. Even if I did, it wouldn’t change his mind. He would continue this poisonous path without me, searching and fighting until he destroyed himself. I’m doing what I can to support him until he discovers the truth on his own.”

Iroh’s anecdote hung over their heads like storm clouds. Katara narrowed her eyes in thought, drumming her fingers against her bowl.

“What if he never comes to that conclusion?” she said coldly. “How many more people does he have to hurt or villages does he have to burn down for you to decide he isn’t worth it?”

Iroh met her gaze, his jaw tight. She thought he was going to snarl or shout, like he had in the tent with Zuko. Instead, he relaxed into a smile.

“He will change. I know it. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. He was such a sweet and happy child before my brother got ahold of him and twisted him up.” He grinned at Aang. “He was a lot like you, actually. Bright and joyful and kind. I wish you all could have seen him then. Perhaps you’d understand why I haven’t given up on him yet.”

“Really?” Aang said, beaming. “Wow. I’m having a hard time imagining that.”

The old man chuckled, then stared across the circle of young faces. “I’m not asking any of you to forgive my nephew for what he’s done. I’m not asking you to make excuses for him or to pity him. I just wanted to grant you some insight into the person he is, and why he acts the way he does today. You’ve already been more kind to him than I ever could have anticipated, which shows what honorable individuals you are. I am forever grateful to each of you.” His expression softened. “Zuko is too, even if he doesn’t seem it. Because of the way he was raised, he can’t comprehend the idea that others would show him compassion without it being earned, or without some sinister ulterior motive in mind. Your kindness is entirely foreign to him, so don’t take his aversion to it personally.”

This was exactly what Katara had been afraid of. That if they learned more about Zuko’s past, they’d start to realize he wasn’t the sick, totally irredeemable person they believed him to be. She wanted to hate him—wanted to see him as nothing but an obstacle in their path, a soulless enemy to defeat. But it was hard to do after hearing his life’s story.

“If only Zuko had been surrounded by people like you growing up,” Iroh continued wistfully. “You all have such good hearts.”

Sokka swirled his boomerang in the air. “Yeah—too bad we all couldn’t live it up in the Fire Nation palace together, celebrating global tyranny and singing kumbaya around the fire.”

Iroh hinted a somber smile, then rose to his feet. “I’m going to see if I can get my nephew to eat something,” he said, ladling another helping of soup into his bowl and pouring a second cup of tea. “Have a delightful afternoon, all of you.”

With that, he strolled back into the earth tent, humming a quiet tune to himself. The group was left to wallow in the tsunami of information they now knew about their arch nemesis.

Eventually, Sokka huffed. “Well, if there’s anything we’ve learned from this bizarre little misadventure, it’s that the Fire Lord is literally the worst in every way imaginable, and deserves everything he’s got coming his way.”

“No kidding,” Toph agreed, cracking her toes.

Aang pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...I kinda feel bad for Zuko.”

“Don’t,” Katara snapped, scowling at the fire. “We’ve all had hard lives. We’ve all been hurt and lost things we cared about. You don’t see any of us attacking towns or terrorizing innocent people.”

“But we were raised by good people,” Aang pointed out. “Even when we disagreed with them or fought with them, we never doubted that they loved us.” He rested his chin on his knees. “Zuko didn’t have that. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of change.”

“A lot of people are capable of a lot of things,” Katara retorted. “That doesn’t mean they’re ever going to do the right thing and actually commit to being better.”

Aang blinked at her, then gazed into the flickering flames. “Not if you don’t give them the chance...”

He considered telling them the truth about that day in the Earth Kingdom. When Zuko had broken him out of Zhao’s prison, saving his life—and, unknowingly, Sokka and Katara’s. If Aang hadn’t escaped and gotten those frogs to them, they could have died. The only reason the three of them were sitting together today, alive and well, was because of Zuko’s help.

But before Aang had the chance to speak, Katara scoffed and stood, marching toward the river.

“Katara?” he called. “Where are you going?”

“Swimming,” she answered without looking back. “After today, I seriously need a bath.”

He watched her stomp away, then exhaled defeatedly. Maybe he was being naive. Maybe Zuko wouldn’t change. But while the Fire Nation prince was stuck here with them, he’d try his best to be patient and kind to him—perhaps to the point where it no longer felt so foreign.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Iroh went back into the woods to forage for more tea leaves and herbs before the sun went down, leaving Zuko alone in the stone tent. While the others were off busying themselves around their campsite, Aang crept into the dark structure. He intended to pop in for only a moment to grab some nuts from his bag, but froze in the doorway at the sight he stumbled upon.

Zuko was facing the back wall of the tent, sitting with his legs crossed and his spine straight. Four small candles were arranged in front of him, their flames rising and falling in sync with Zuko’s steady breathing. Aang immediately recognized the familiar scene.

“You’re meditating!” he exclaimed. Zuko flinched in surprise, the candlelight flaring and rippling, casting wild shadows across the walls. He turned on him lividly.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he shouted. “I almost torched you alive!”

“Sorry!” Aang said, grinning shyly as he stepped closer. “But you are meditating, right?”

Zuko huffed and turned back toward the wall, rubbing his wounded shoulder. “I’m trying to,” he said pointedly, re-assuming his sturdy position.

“That’s awesome!” Aang said, bounding to stand by his side. “I never would’ve pegged you as someone who meditates.”

Aang thought he remembered Zuko mentioning meditation back in the South Pole, but it seemed so out of character for him. He never expected to actually witness the hotheaded prince putting it into practice.

Zuko looked uncomfortable and irritated by Aang’s presence. He tried to ignore him, but the avatar wasn’t making it easy. The twelve-year-old stood over him, smiling from ear to ear.

“I meditate too. Every day, in fact! Meditation is a sacred tradition among Air Nomads. The monks always said it’s a great way to strengthen one’s discipline, inner peace, and spirituality.”

The flames danced and flickered, mirroring Zuko’s aggravation. “Then you should know how important it is to be quiet when someone’s trying to concentrate!” He jabbed his finger toward the exit. “Get out of here!”

Aang was beginning to realize that Zuko yelled a lot, but there wasn’t any real bite behind it. At least, not in his current condition. So for now, he wasn’t going to let it faze him.

Ignoring Zuko’s demands, he plopped down beside him, making the royal teenager start. “Can I meditate with you?”

Zuko blinked, looking appalled. “What?” he gawked. “No!”

“Why not?” Aang asked, settling into his own meditation position with his fists pressed together and his eyes closed.

“Because—because you’re going to distract me!” he cried. “There’s a million other places for you to do it besides here! Why don’t you go meditate with one of your obnoxious friends?”

“None of them practice meditation,” he explained simply. “Back at the Western Air Temple, me and the other monks used to meditate in a group, all of us sitting and breathing together in perfect harmony. I haven’t meditated with someone else for over a hundred years.” He opened one eye and hinted a sad smile. “I miss it a lot. I think it’d be nice.”

Zuko scowled at him, but it seemed more thoughtful than angry. Scowling also appeared to be a thing he did by default, not as an intentional expression of aggression. He could see him searching for a motive, a scheme, some kind of backhanded revenge plot in the avatar’s innocent request. He really did second guess every gesture of kindness offered to him.

The firebender looked ready to blow a gasket, or snag his quartet of candles and stomp out the door. Instead, he exhaled forcefully, growling under his breath like a komodo rhino with a headache.

“If you’re quiet enough that I forget you’re here, I don’t care what you do,” he grumbled.

Aang beamed, flinging his hands in the air. “Hooray!” he cheered. He leaned forward with a grin. “I like your hair, by the way.”

Zuko’s eyes popped open and flitted towards him bewilderedly. “W-what?” he stammered, as if that was the most absurd thing anyone had ever said to him.

“Your new hair! It looks nice. A lot better than the bald ponytail thing you had going on before. It’s so cute and fuzzy now. I like it!”

Again, Aang watched the wheels in Zuko’s head turn, trying to find some convoluted ploy masquerading behind his friendly words. He couldn’t even take a tiny compliment without drowning in doubt and suspicion? It was as heartbreaking as it was endearing.

Once the prince deduced the avatar’s nice comment posed no immediate threat, but was simply a genuine approval of his change in appearance, his expression softened. “Oh,” he said. He stared at the wall, warmth rising in his cheeks. “Well, um...thanks. I guess.”

“Of course!” Aang chirped. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Zuko sweeping a timid hand through his hair, and felt pretty proud of himself.

“I like your hair, too,” Zuko said after an awkward pause. “Did you...do something new with it?”

Aang stared at him blankly. His delivery was so bland and clumsy, it took the avatar a full five seconds to realize that Zuko was attempting to make a joke. Immediately, he busted out laughing—not because the joke was good, necessarily, but because Zuko had actually tried to make one, and his effort was so hysterically ungraceful.

“Ehahaha!” Aang cackled, hugging himself around the middle. “Good one, Zuko! I didn’t know you could be funny!”

The tiniest of smiles lifted one corner of Zuko’s mouth before vanishing without a trace. He made an oval with his hands, pressing his thumbs and middle fingers together, then straightened his spine. “Now be quiet,” he ordered bluntly, inhaling and releasing a slow, centering breath.

Aang grinned and reflected his pose. Zuko was still a little shivery and sweaty from his fever, but both were growing less severe as Uncle’s tea worked its magic. The room fell silent except for the soft flickering of the fire and their synchronous breathing, and stayed that way for the next hour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The avatar was the first one to break their vigil, floating to his feet and bounding out of the tent like a miniature whirlwind. “Thanks for letting me join you, Zuko!” he called cheerfully, then darted outside.

Zuko...didn’t know what to make of their interaction. He and the avatar were adversaries. He’d told him he wasn’t going to stop hunting him. As soon as he was healed, their little game of cat owl and spider mouse would pick right back up from where it had left off.

So what had compelled him to come in here and meditate by his side?

Not only that—he’d opened up to him about his past, his culture, the society that raised him. The very people Zuko’s forefathers were responsible for wiping out. Was he trying to appeal to his humanity, guilt him into abandoning his mission to capture the avatar?

And what was with the whole complimenting his hair thing?

The whole exchange left Zuko feeling off. He didn’t want to think about what would become of that peppy little kid once he delivered him into the hands of his father. Avatar or not, he was so agonizingly young.

But tricky, as well. And conniving, all of them. Just like Azula. He wouldn’t let them get in his head. For however long he was trapped here, he’d avoid interacting with them unless it was absolutely necessary. He couldn’t afford any more distractions.

“How are you feeling, Prince Zuko?” Uncle’s voice asked from behind him. “Have you managed to eat or sleep at all? I found some basil and turmeric to add to your tea. I know you don’t care for either, but they should help settle your stomach.”

Zuko turned toward him, grimacing as the movement sent little sparks of pain zipping through his muscles. “I’m going to sleep outside tonight.”

Iroh raised an eyebrow as he prepared the ingredients for the brew. “I don’t know if the avatar and his friends will approve. They wish to keep you contained and in sight, understandably, and—”

“I don’t care what they want!” he interjected. “I’m not sleeping in here with all of them. I won’t be able to.”

Uncle sighed exasperatedly. “Prince Zuko. They are already being very considerate. They’ve given you space and leave you to your business unrestrained.” He wafted the fumes from the pot toward his nose and breathed deeply. “If I were them, I would have chained both of us up. We aren't exactly trustworthy company.”

“I’m not sitting in this stupid tent anymore,” he growled. He braced one hand against the wall and tried to push himself upright, groaning and straining with effort.

Uncle rushed to his aid, wrapping an arm around his waist and hoisting him to his feet. Zuko wanted to push him away, but there was no way he could stay standing without his help.

“All right—easy now, nephew.”

He took one step forward, and almost immediately collapsed. Pain bloomed across the bottom of his foot and shot up his leg like an explosion going off in his bones. He listed forward, dizzy and nauseous, gasping for breath.

“Do not put any weight on your left side,” Iroh insisted. “Let me support you.”

“Th-this is...infuriating,” he hissed, panting. “Why am I still so weak?”

“It has only been a day, my prince. You must give yourself time to heal.” He slung his nephew’s arm over his shoulder and bore him forward. “Come on. We’ll go slow.”

Any progress toward the exit basically required Zuko to hop on his good leg. The violent motion still jarred him, but he managed to keep going, pausing in between to let the pain subside to a manageable level. Iroh would rather he let one of kids carry him out of the tent, but Zuko would sooner hop himself to death than allow that.

Once they breached the doorway, their little limping routine turned the heads of everyone outside. Katara stood up, hands balled into fists at her side.

“What’s going on?” she said.

“Zuko needed some fresh air,” Iroh explained, grunting beneath his nephew’s weight. He was basically doing all the work required to move him away from the tent. The prince hung off him loosely, grimacing in pain, a line of sweat glistening along his forehead. His face was abnormally pale and blanching whiter and whiter with every cloddish hop forward.

“Do you need��help?” Sokka asked hesitantly.

Iroh forced a smile. “No, we—” he began, but Zuko was sagging lower and lower, a quiet moan rising from his lips. “—Zuko? Are you all right?”

The teen’s head was suddenly spinning like a top. Gravity was pulling on him two times stronger than usual. His wounds throbbed and ached in protest. He’d barely walked two steps away from the tent, but apparently that was all his stupid body could tolerate right now.

“Ugh…can’t…l-lemme...down…” he whimpered.

Alarm pricked Iroh’s heart. “Okay, okay. Here.”

He eased him carefully to the ground. Zuko slumped against the outer wall of the tent, panting harshly, gripping his leg with one hand and his chest with the other.

“What’s wrong?” Iroh asked, kneeling in front of him and cupping his palm against his pallid face.

“He doesn’t look good,” Aang noted uneasily.

Once she realized he wasn’t going to be doing anything threatening in his current state, Katara’s muscles uncoiled. “He shouldn’t be moving,” she said, stepping closer. “Especially if he hasn’t been able to eat anything today.”

“He’s been too nauseous to,” the old man said, fear creeping into his voice. He gave his cheek a few light pats. “Zuko—hey! Talk to me! Tell me what’s going on.”

His eyelids fluttered sluggishly as he fought to stay conscious and slow his rapid breathing. “Just...lightheaded,” he slurred, squeezing his shoulder and gritting his teeth. “Ugh...h-hurts…”

Iroh turned to Sokka. “I’ve prepared some tea for him inside the tent. Please—if you could—”

“Right,” Sokka said, hurrying into the stone structure. He reappeared a few moments later with the kettle and cup in hand.

“Thank you,” Iroh breathed. He filled the cup and held it to Zuko’s lips. “Here, nephew. Drink. It will help you feel better.”

Zuko wrinkled his nose but did as he was told. He abhorred the fact that he was acting so pathetic and weak—and in front of his enemies, no less—but he was so woozy, and everything hurt, and he just wanted it to stop. The tea was hot on his tongue and left a sour aftertaste in the back of his throat. He made a face and found himself missing Uncle’s classic jasmine brew.

“Blech,” he said.

“I know,” Iroh conceded sympathetically. Katara offered him a bowl, and he lifted the edge to Zuko’s mouth. “Have some water.”

Zuko braved a few small sips then pushed it away. He was still queasy and didn’t want to risk overwhelming his upset stomach. The black fuzz pressing into his peripheral vision was slowly beginning to retreat, and the world was no longer dipping and tilting around him. But he was still so tired. He rested his head against the tent, struggling to keep his eyes open, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth.

“You must try to eat something,” Uncle insisted. “A couple bites of bread, soup—anything.”

Zuko recoiled at the thought of food. It was the last thing he was in the mood for right now. “I’m fine,” he grumbled breathlessly, sweat slipping down his face. “Just...lemme sit for a...a minute…”

“You will never recover your strength unless you eat,” Iroh said softly. He tore a piece of bread in half, took his nephew’s hand, and placed it in his palm. “Please, Prince Zuko.”

The firebender stared at the bread miserably. He looked so ill and weak—even Katara was nicked with pity at the sight. He must’ve been desperate to feel better if he was letting his uncle order him around without throwing a fit.

Zuko wished there weren’t so many eyes on him right now, watching him lie half-conscious against the tent, barely able to hold his head up, shivering with pain and sickness as he nibbled defeatedly on the bread in his hands. Azula’s mocking voice echoed in his ears—weak, pathetic, miserable failure. Father’s piercing glare bore down on him, radiating disgust and disappointment.

But Uncle was with him, pressed against his side, telling him everything was going to be okay as he gently guided his head to his shoulder.

“Don’t...wait...” Zuko whined. But once he was leaned against him, he felt himself starting to drift. Sleepiness curled around him like a warm blanket. Iroh pulled the bread from his limp fingers and ran his thumb along his cheek.

“Just rest here a moment. I will help you move once you have the energy to stand.”

But Zuko made the mistake of closing his eyes. It was meant to be for only a moment, but after they slipped shut, he couldn’t get them to open again. As Iroh anticipated, his nephew was soon asleep. He pulled a rag from his pocket and mopped the fever sweat from his forehead.

“Did he just...pass out?” Toph asked.

“He hasn’t slept since last night,” Iroh said, watching his nephew snooze against his shoulder with a tender fondness in his eyes. “He’s always been so stubborn, never resting until he’s completely burnt out or unless it is forced upon him—even when his body desperately needs it.”

Aang found the sight endearing. Katara thought the old man’s concern for his nephew was misplaced but sweet. Sokka narrowed his eyes, opening the tea pot and gingerly sniffing its contents. His jaw dropped.

“Did you drug him?”

Iroh chuckled lightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “An old trick his mother used to use when he couldn’t get to sleep as a child. Add a tiny dash of dragon thistle root to his tea, and he is out like a light.”

While the others reeled over the old man’s well-intentioned but semi-conniving actions, Katara’s mind honed in on one word: mother. During Iroh’s entire soapbox about Zuko’s past, he’d never once mentioned his mom. What did she think about her son? Was she like Ozai? Cold and heartless, happy to exile her own child in favor of her more powerful daughter? Or was she different? What part did she play in the strange, tragic menagerie of Zuko’s life?

Iroh smiled at the children. “Would one of you please grab a blanket for me, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure!” Aang said, darting past him. Katara stared at Zuko’s sleeping face and decided not to ask about his mother. She already knew more about him than she wanted to as it was. And the more she learned, the harder it was to hate him.

Aang returned with the linens. Iroh gathered his nephew into his arms and carefully laid him down, tossing the blanket over his body and pulling it up to his chin.

“Hopefully he sleeps through the night,” he said. It was funny to watch the person they fought and feared as an enemy be treated like a precious little baby by his uncle.

“I’ll heal him again tomorrow morning,” Katara said, then stalked into the tent without another word.

Her friends hesitated, then followed her inside. Iroh stayed beside his nephew, matching his breathing to his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zuko woke up screaming.

He’d suffered from night terrors since Mom had disappeared without a trace, and they’d only gotten worse since his banishment. He dreamed of her face being swallowed up in flames, of the ground turning to tar beneath him and dragging him into suffocating darkness, of his father scorching his eye again and again and again, the smell and the pain all too real.

And now, he was dreaming of Azula. Eyes dark and remorseless as she shot lighting into the hearts of those he loved, sending Mom and Uncle toppling to the ground in smoking heaps before turning on him. He was lucky if he got through the night without shooting awake in a cold sweat at least one.

When the lightning struck him, Zuko bolted upright, a terrified shout leaping from his throat. But something clapped over his mouth to stop it from escaping. Whatever it was was shaped like a hand, but it had the texture of rock. Panicked, fire flared from his fingertips. He made a grab for the stranger’s arm, but something caught his hands before they reached it, trapping them at his sides. He squirmed and cursed, voice muffled, heart racing.

“It’s okay,” a girl’s voice said. “Shh. It’s me.”

A young face took shape in the darkness. Black hair and pale, faded eyes. It was the tiny earthbender that had showed up at the fight between Azula, the avatar, and himself. She must have joined their group while they were traveling through the Earth Kingdom. So far, the two of them had avoided direct confrontation—or rather, any interaction whatsoever.

“I heard you. From the tent. And, uh, felt you shaking. I didn’t want you to wake anyone else up.”

Zuko stopped struggling, his breathing quick and his eyes blinking. Slowly, she took her palm away from his mouth. It was shrouded in rock, perhaps in case he tried any breath-related firebending moves. With a flick of her wrist, the earth restraints fell away from his hands.

“Sorry for scaring you. I just figured you wouldn’t want anyone else hearing that, and I didn’t wanna get fried in the process of shutting you up.”

Zuko studied her in a fuzzy, flustered haze, panting quietly. “Oh,” he stammered. “Uh, r-right.” His bones were quaking under his skin. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He scrubbed a hand across his face and started when it came away wet. He touched under his eyes and realized his cheeks were damp with tears. Shame burned up his throat as he dried them frantically and turned away. “Um, s-sorry for waking you.”

She stared at him in silence. Well, not exactly stared—not with her eyes, at least. But he could feel her feeling him, gauging his movements, his voice. She probably knew he’d been crying. She barely looked a day older than the avatar, but exuded the power and poise of a master bender, all while retaining the appearance and quirkiness of a child.

Which was weird. Because as far as he could tell, she was totally blind.

“Well...goodnight,” he said, voice brittle. But she didn’t move. And he didn’t lay back down.

“They have them too, you know.”

He glanced at her bemusedly. “What?”

“Nightmares. They get them too. Aang, Katara, Sokka.”

He scoffed lightly, rubbing his eyes. “And you don’t?”

She grimaced at the ground. “Not like they do. I had a difficult home life, but...it’s different.”

He gripped his arms at the elbows and stared off to the side. He wasn’t sure what she was looking to get out of this conversation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

Zuko wrinkled his brow. “About what?” he said.

“Your nightmare.”

Heat flushed across Zuko’s skin. “No,” he said sharply, glaring between his feet.

Toph shrugged. “That’s fine. Just thought I’d extend the offer. I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”

The girl grinned. Zuko narrowed his eyes. Was that supposed to be a joke? He kneaded gingerly at his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he growled, wincing when he touched a particularly sore spot. “You can go away now.”

“I’m Toph,” she said, ignoring him enthusiastically. “I don’t think we’ve formally met.”

Why don’t any of these people ever listen to a word I say? he thought bitterly. Also, I’ve never formally met any of you. He heaved a small sigh.

“Hello,” he deadpanned. “Now get lost.”

“My friends don’t seem to like you, but I judge people for myself.” She flexed her feet in the grass absentmindedly. “And yeah, hunting Aang isn’t cool, but I don’t think you’re as bad as they make you out to be.”

Zuko was caught off guard by her blunt but oddly nice statement. He tried not to let it show, masking his surprise behind a scowl.

“I don’t care what you or your friends think of me,” he snapped, bunching the blanket in his fists. “Just leave me alone!”

“See, you put on this scary, tough facade, but I don’t think that’s really you,” she continued. “It's a defense mechanism.”

Zuko fumed. “Are you blind and deaf? Go away! You don’t know me. Stop pretending like you do!”

“But I do know you,” she insisted. “You try to push others away so they can never get close enough to hurt you. You think by being mean and abrasive and keeping them at a distance, you’re protecting yourself. But really, you’re just making yourself more lonely.”

The firebender’s heart skipped a beat. Toph could tell she’d struck a chord. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish stranded on land, her words bouncing around in his head, freakishly insightful for someone who barely looked ten.

“I know you because you’re like me,” she explained. “We’re not good at feelings and all that dumb mushy crap. We think doing everything on our own makes us stronger than accepting help from others. But I’m starting to learn that’s not always true.”

Was she baiting him? Trying to rile him up to the point that he attacked, granting her an excuse to kill him? Or was she truly speaking from the heart? Her observation stung a bit too deep to not be genuine, and sounded a little too familiar for his taste.

Like Uncle.

But he refused to dwell on it. He wouldn’t; he couldn’t. Stunned confusion was quickly superseded by prickling irritation. He scoffed indignantly.

“You’re crazy,” he spat. “You’re a child. You don’t know anything.”

Toph crossed her arms and smirked. “Then that makes two of us.”

Flames roiled in Zuko’s belly. “What?”

“Hey!” a voice called from the tent. Zuko turned and spotted Sokka peeking out from the darkness, an angry line twitching between his eyebrows. “Some of us around here are trying to sleep! Why are you guys yelling?” He stepped through the doorway with his boomerang cocked behind his head, glaring sleepily at Zuko. “Is Prince Angry Jerk here causing trouble?”

“I’m not doing anything,” he snarled, gesturing to Toph. “Your obnoxious little friend won’t leave me alone.”

“We’re fine,” she assured him. “I was just informing Zuko that his whole ‘bad guy’ charade is stupid, along with his entire mindset about everything.”

Smoke hissed from his nostrils and coiled from his fists. “Why, you little—”

“Ah-ah!” Sokka interjected, waving his boomerang threateningly. “Don’t even think about it.”

Zuko threw his hands in the air. “What, I’m just supposed to sit here while she calls me stupid to my face?”

“Precisely,” Sokka said, sitting beside Toph. His hair was out of its usual ponytail and hanging in his eyes, forcing him to tuck it behind his ears every now and then. Zuko had never seen the Water Tribe boy with hair down before. It was a lot longer than he expected.

Sokka bumped his shoulder against the earthbender’s. “Is this late night insult Zuko hour or something? Because I’m totally in, and very upset I didn’t receive an invitation.”

“I’m not trying to insult him,” Toph insisted. “I’m just telling him the truth.”

“What you’re doing is asking to get fried beyond recognition,” he spat viciously. Sokka leaned toward him and squinted.

“Why are your eyes red?” he asked. His brows shot toward his hairline. “Have you been crying?”

Zuko’s scowl dissolved into a look of panic. He’d tried to push the horrific nightmare from his mind, but the damage it had reaped was evidently still lingering. Drenched in milky moonlight, Sokka had never seen the Fire Nation prince look so scared and distraught before. Humiliation sawed at Zuko’s insides. He grappled for something to say—a quick and scathing retort. But his throat was seizing up, and a fresh bout of tears welled in his eyes.

“I…” he began, voice shivery. Toph punched Sokka in the arm.

“Lay off,” she scolded him. “He startled me when I came out here to take a whizz, so I kicked dirt in his eyes. That’s all.”

Zuko turned to her in disbelief, blinking. She hinted a small smile that disappeared just as quickly. Relief drizzled over his heart.

“Oh,” Sokka said, rubbing his shoulder, glancing between them skeptically. “Right.” He recognized immediately that they weren’t telling him what was really going on, but decided not to press the matter. If Toph thought it important to keep under wraps, he trusted her.

Zuko kneaded his eyes with the heels of his hands and avoided his gaze, feeling sticky and exposed. Why would she lie for me? he wondered. How does that benefit her? Wouldn’t she want to humiliate her enemy every chance she got? To show her friends how weak and pathetic he really was? Maybe she wanted him indebted to her. Or to have something over him to use as blackmail.

Whatever the reason, he was relieved. For now, at least. A part of him wanted to thank her. He stared into her foggy eyes for a moment, hoping she understood.

Toph responded by crossing her arms and grinning wide. “Anyway, back to you being stupid,” she said spiritedly.

The prince deflated with a groan. So much for being grateful. “Seriously?” he exclaimed, his rage blossoming back to life.

“You make no sense to me,” she continued unperturbed. “You're trying to capture Aang and bring him home to your dad so he’ll love and accept you, right?”

Zuko was off-put by the direct address. So was Sokka. The firebender huffed irately. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

“But it sorta seems like he’s been awful to you even before you were banished.”

The prince wasn’t sure how much she or others knew about his situation, but already it sounded like more than he was comfortable with. He gritted his teeth.

“Be quiet!” he barked. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You want a father who cares about you and understands you,” Toph said with a snort. “Trust me: I get it. My parents still think I’m some helpless little blind girl, not a butt-kicking, earthbending champion.”

Zuko glared daggers through Toph. “Our situations aren’t the same. My father does care about me. Once I bring him the avatar, he’ll accept me as his son, and my honor will be restored.”

Toph blew a tuft of hair out of her face and dropped her chin into her hand. Sokka rolled his eyes.

“No offense, Prince Jerkbender, but your dad is kind of the worst.”

Zuko turned away from them, hissing with pain and frustration. “This is why I’m not talking to you about this! None of you could ever understand!”

“What we don’t understand is why you’re set on getting your terrible father to like you when you already have someone who loves and accepts you right now!” Sokka cried, exasperated.

A shock went through Zuko’s system. He swallowed, gripping his wound and hunching his shoulders.

“What...w-what are you talking about?” he murmured.

Toph scoffed. “Um...your uncle?” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. “You know, the guy who left the Fire Nation to help you? Who travels around the world with you and supports you no matter how badly you treat him? The man who makes you tea and comforts you when you’re sick and tucks you into bed at night?”

“And who convinced us to help you even though we really didn’t want to?” Sokka added.

Zuko’s chest tightened. Anxiety and confusion and an avalanche of other emotions churned inside his gut. He grimaced at the ground.

“He cares about you. Like, openly, aggressively cares about you. It’s as annoying as it is sweet.” Toph tilted her head to the side. “Why are you so determined to earn your dad’s love, when your uncle already loves you as you are?”

The prince didn’t look at them. He watched a beetle crawl over a rock, his fingers shivering against his aching shoulder. He inhaled sharply, then laid across the ground, yanking the blanket over his head and curling into himself.

Sokka glanced at Toph, then back at Zuko, then sighed. It looked like there was no getting through to him. The earthbender rose to her feet.

“Drink some more of your uncle’s tea,” she demanded, then strode back into the tent. “G’night.”

Sokka was quick to follow her, yawning as he stepped into the darkness, shooting one last look over his shoulder.

Zuko shuddered alone beneath the stars, blinking back tears. A few restless minutes later, he heated up Uncle’s teapot, choked down another cup of boiling, bitter liquid, then nestled against the grass, praying that the rest of his night would be dreamless. That is, if he ever managed to fall asleep again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is it just me, or is Zuko...kind of awkward?”

Katara stopped fixing her hair mid-braid, scoffing. “What? What do you mean?”

Aang stretched and smiled, the morning sunlight pouring in through the doorway gilding his limbs in a golden halo. “Yesterday, while we were meditating, I told him I liked his new hair. And he totally didn’t know how to respond—as if he’s never been complimented by anyone besides his uncle before. It was hilarious!”

Sokka shot upright, mouth hanging agape. “Wait—‘we?’” he exclaimed. “As in, you were meditating together?”

“Yeah! Zuko practices meditation just like me! Isn’t that cool?”

Katara frowned. “That’s...weird. He’s the last person I’d expect to see meditating. Especially with you.”

“I know, right?” Aang giggled. “The best part was, when I told him I liked his hair, he said he liked mine, too. Like, as a joke! Because I’m bald!” He laughed brightly. “It was so bad, but that only made it funnier!”

Katara huffed, tying off the end of her braid. “Well I’m glad you had fun with the guy who’s going to try imprisoning you the moment he can walk again.”

Aang winced at her coldness. “I’m just saying, Katara. If you’re patient and give him the chance, you’ll see there’s more to him than ‘angry scary firebender prince.’ He’s more human than you might think.”

When Katara simply rolled her eyes, Toph decided to speak up.

“So, don’t tell him I told you guys this, but...I had a chat with him last night. He had a really bad nightmare, and the sound of his cries woke me up.”

Sokka hopped to his feet. “Ha! I knew you were lying! I may not have lie-detecting feet, but I know a fib when I hear one.” His excitement was short lived, however. He backtracked with a troubled look, eyeing the doorway. “Oh...does that mean I was right before? You know...about him crying?”

Aang’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Wait—Zuko was crying?”

Everyone’s gazes veered toward Toph. The tiny earthbender nodded solemnly, her expression grim. “He was screaming in his sleep. I had to cover his mouth to stop him from waking all of you up.” She scratched the back of her neck. “He was...calling for his mom. Begging her to come back. I don’t know what happened to her, or what their relationship is like, but…” she shook her head. “It was really sad.”

Silence veiled the room. Again, Katara felt torn in half by her usual eagerness to help those in pain and her hatred toward Zuko. Sokka put his hair up and placed his hands on his hips.

“The guy’s got a lot of issues, that’s for sure. Do I feel bad for him? Maybe, a little. Does it make me trust him any more than I did before? Absolutely not.”

“Exactly,” Katara said, glad she had her brother were back on the same page. Aang crossed his arms against his chest.

“But he has shown us he has more than one side. You guys saw more of his vulnerable side, and I got to see part of his calm and awkward side.” He snickered into his hand. “Man, you should’ve seen his face! He has no idea how to take a compliment. I don’t think anyone’s ever called him cute before.”

Katara stuck out her tongue. “Who would ever have a reason to?”

“Oh, come on! You have to admit his new haircut is better than his old one!”

Sokka snorted. “I think anything is better compared to that disaster, so you’re setting the bar pretty low.”

Aang beamed between his friends. “You all should try complimenting him sometime, if only to see his response. It catches him completely off guard.”

Sokka blew a raspberry and walked outside, stretching his arms over his head. Katara wrinkled her nose at Aang’s chipper attitude toward all of this. How many times did she have to remind him that Zuko was their enemy who wanted nothing more than to see him in chains. Even if she liked his new look, and had maybe had to stop herself from touching his hair while he was unconscious and no one else was around to see (it just looked so fuzzy!), no way would she ever say so out loud.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” she snapped. “Under no circumstances would I ever consider that monster cute.”

At that moment, Sokka popped back into the tent, looking both shocked and delighted at the same time. “Guys, you have got to come see this,” he said.

Katara and Aang exchanged a glance before following him. Toph came along too, although she had a feeling she already knew what he was referring to, based on the cluster of mismatched vibrations her feet were picking up.

The three friends tailed Sokka outside and stopped when they discovered a giant fluffy mountain resting in the sunrise. Appa had moved from his spot by the river and was now lying beside the earth tent. His ears perked up as they approached, but he didn’t raise his head. Aang didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, until Sokka coaxed him forward.

“Look,” he snickered.

Katara and the avatar peered over Appa’s large foot to find a very bizarre sight. A bunch of animals were gathered between Appa’s front legs—a skink quail, a prickle snake, a pair of dragonflies, and a family of turtle ducks, which was strange in itself. But underneath the zoo of wildlife was Zuko, curled up and sleeping peacefully with all the animals snuggled against him, as if they were his babies and he was their teenage firebending mama. Even Momo was there, nestled in the crook of Zuko’s neck and shoulder, purring contently.

“What the…?” Aang said, blinking.

“Right?” Sokka giggled.

“What exactly am I looking at right now?” Katara asked, her hands flying to her mouth in horror. “Oh no. He’s not—they’re not—eating him, are they?”

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you're asking,” Toph assured her. “His breathing and heartbeat actually feel better than they did yesterday.”

“They look like they’re just...cuddling him,” Aang said. He cupped his palms over his heart, melting with endearment. “Awww! That’s so sweet!”

“But why are they doing it?” Katara asked. The prickle snake was coiled into a spiral and resting on top of his belly. The four turtle ducks were pressed against his back, their tails tucked underneath his side. While the dragonflies occupied both of his arms, the skink quail burrowed itself in the bend of his knees. Appa had his nose against his shoulder blades and his toes under his head and feet, his deep breaths stirring Zuko’s hair.

Okay, it was cute. Sue her. It still made no sense.

“Maybe he...smells good?” Sokka suggested dubiously. “From something in his uncle’s tea?”

Aang sprung on top of Appa’s head and petted his fur. “Whatcha doing with Zuko, buddy? Do you like him? Does he smell nice?”

“Maybe it’s because of his fever,” Toph suggested, pressing one hand against the ground. “He still feels a lot warmer than the rest of you.”

“So they’re snuggling him to sap his fever heat?” Katara said, fighting back a smile. It was oddly endearing—watching the prince sleep, his wiry shape buried in woodland creatures. He looked like a spoiled little kid surrounded by toys, or some kind of mystical forest spirit communing with nature.

“Here Momo,” Aang called, hanging off Appa’s horn to try to scoop him up. Momo growled and hissed in protest, pressing closer to Zuko. His squirmy movements roused the slumbering firebender, making him wrinkle his brow and release a quiet moan.

Zuko blinked sluggishly, the grass and the flowers poking up from the earth gradually coming into focus. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, feeling clusters of tiny bodies shift with his movements. Oh, great, he thought. Not again. He pushed himself upright, grimacing from a sudden jolt of pain, careful not to squish any of the little creatures around him. When he lifted his bleary gaze, he was surprised to find four pairs of eyes gazing back, wide with confusion.

“Ah!” Zuko yelped, flinching backwards sharply. The turtle ducks and the dragonflies sprung away from him for a moment, then quickly reconvened, nuzzling against his limbs. Momo hopped on to his scalp, pawing at his messy bedhead, but Zuko barely seemed to notice. His shock shifted to puzzled anger. “What on earth? Why are all of you watching me sleep? Don’t you know how creepy that is?”

Sokka shrugged dramatically. “Huh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because we walked out here to find you having a giant cuddly slumber party with an entire petting zoo’s worth of animals.”

“Which for some reason doesn’t seem to be weirding you out,” Katara added, watching Momo growl at the dragonflies from on top of Zuko’s head.

Aang and Toph giggled at the peculiar scene. Zuko glared between them lazily, stifling another yawn.

“It happens sometimes when I sleep out in the open,” he mumbled. “I don’t know why.” He winced when Appa nudged him in the back with his nose, as if he hadn’t noticed the enormous flying bison looming over him until now. Momo leapt from his head to his shoulder and licked his cheek.

“Wait—you mean this is a regular thing for you?” Aang floated to the ground in front of him, beaming. “Waking up and being surrounded by a bunch of animals?”

Zuko shrugged, scratching at his disheveled hair. “Sorta.”

The four friends just stared at him. He began to realize how strange this probably looked to people who didn’t have to deal with it on the regular. He cringed when Appa’s giant tongue lapped across the entirety of his back, plastering him in sticky saliva.

“Ugh! Gross!” Zuko shoved the bison’s enormous nose in disgust. “Get your slobbery pets away from me!”

“They like you!” Aang insisted, eyes sparkling. “Wow! You’re like an animal whisperer! Look at you, surrounded by cuddly wildlife! You’re so cute!”

To everyone’s delight, Zuko’s cheeks turned pink. Aang hadn’t been joking about the whole ‘can’t take a compliment’ thing.

“I’m not—it’s not—cute,” he grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

Frowning, he scooped the family of turtle ducks in his arms and placed them to the side, trying to look careless and angry while also being noticeably gentle. As soon as their feet touched the ground, they scurried back up his legs and into his lap with a chorus of quacks and chirps. His look of surprise made all four of them burst out laughing. Sokka grinned smugly.

“Face it, Zuko. You’re a prissy little prince whose angry royal yelling attracts flocks of baby animals to snuggle you to sleep. If that’s not cute, I don’t know what is.”

Zuko’s cheeks went from pink to red. Until now, none of them had ever seen the firebender full-on blush before. Couple that with the dragonflies flanking his sides, the skink quail fluffed against his knee, the prickle snake slithering toward his neck, and the turtle ducks quacking incessantly at Momo, it was a scene all of them wanted painted and framed to treasure forever. One of the dragonflies prodded at his hand, asking to be pet, and he begrudgingly obliged.

“Whatever,” he muttered shyly. “It’s not like I try to make them come. They just show up.”

Toph hummed in thought. “I figured they were snuggling you because of your fever, but if this happens pretty often, then I don’t know what’s causing it.”

“I’m telling you, it’s a royalty thing. Wild animals just really like aristocrats. Especially ones that sing.” Sokka leaned toward Zuko suspiciously. “Can you sing? Come on—belt out a tune for me.”

Ignoring him, Zuko lifted Momo off his shoulder and placed him on the ground. “I don’t feel like I have a fever anymore,” he said. “I think it broke last night.” The lemur warbled in disappointment and scampered away.

His chills were gone, along with the skull-splitting migraine. Now he only had the aches and pains of his lightning wound to worry about. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but it was better than no progress at all.

“You still feel warm to me,” Toph said skeptically. Katara reached forward and held her hand against his forehead, making him wince in surprise.

“Definitely warm,” Katara agreed. Zuko pulled away from her touch sourly.

“I don’t have a fever,” Zuko snapped. “I’m just naturally hot.”

Katara blinked at him. Sokka snorted behind his hand.

“Oh, is that so?” he snickered.

Zuko narrowed his eyes bemusedly. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a firebender thing. We tend to run hotter than regular people.” He pushed at the dragonfly that was nibbling his ear. “But I’m unusually hot for some reason. Like, more so than normal firebenders.”

Now everyone was giggling. Zuko glanced between them with a puzzled frown, the double-sidedness of his words clearly not registering.

“What?”

Sokka waved dismissively, clutching his stomach. “Oh, nothing,” he chuckled. “That’s just a pretty bold statement to make about yourself.”

One of the turtle ducklings scuttled on top of Zuko’s leg. He stroked its tiny head with his thumb unconsciously, scowling.

“No it’s not,” he insisted. “It’s the truth. My uncle said so.”

Now the four kids were howling. Zuko started, eyes wide, then scoffed, balling his hands at his sides.

“What is so funny?”

“Are you sure your uncle’s not just saying that because he’s obligated to?” Katara giggled.

Toph cackled with her arms crossed. “Personally, I trust Iroh’s opinion. If he says Zuko’s hot, then I’ll take his word for it.”

Aang and Sokka doubled over with laughter, hugging their bellies as their shoulders bounced up and down. Zuko’s face burned as the realization gradually dawned on him.

“No, wait, th-that’s not what I…!” he began, but no one was listening to him. They were all too busy giggling like children at his simple slip-up. He sighed irritably, plucking the prickle snake from his shoulder and placing it in his palm. “You’re all so immature. You know I was talking about temperature...”

“Whatever you say, Prince Hotman,” Aang chuckled, bowing extravagantly. Zuko blushed and avoided their gazes, petting the snake bitterly.

“Aren’t you scared it’s going to bite you?” Toph asked, pointing to the serpent in his hand. “Prickle snakes are venomous.”

Zuko looked down at the small reptile. “They never have before,” he said casually, letting it curl and slither around his wrist.

“I think they like how warm you are,” she said. “That’s why they cuddle up to you to sleep. I guess it was pretty chilly last night.”

Without warning, Aang hopped over Appa’s leg and wrapped Zuko in a hug, making the prince recoil uncomfortably.

“Hey! W-what are you—?” he stammered.

“You’re right, Toph! He is really warm!” Aang nuzzled his head into Zuko’s shoulder, closing his eyes and grinning wide. “No wonder all the animals want to snuggle you! You’re like a big, cozy space heater!”

“Get off me!” he snapped, squirming and pushing the clingy airbender. The dragonflies hissed in protest, the turtle ducks squawked furiously, and the skink quail puffed into an angry little ball, cuing Appa to let out a guttural roar.

Feathers exploded from the skink quail as it took flight, flapping and fluttering in terror. The dragonflies screeched and zipped into the sky as the prickle snake sprung out of his hand and slithered into the brush. Quacking frantically, the turtle ducks scurried out of the prince’s lap, gunning for the river. In a matter of moments, all of the wildlife had fled the scene. Zuko blinked in surprise as Appa licked his hair, satisfied with his work.

“Appa! How rude!” Aang scolded the bison, his arms still curled around the wriggly firebender. “Space heaters are meant to be shared!”

“I am not a space heater!” Zuko retorted, shoving Aang’s face away with both hands. The others weren’t sure whether they should be concerned or amused. It was a pretty funny sight, watching the two diametrically opposed benders squabble like little kids.

To add to the humor of the situation, it was at that moment that Zuko’s stomach decided to release a long, loud growl. He and Aang both froze, startled by the sudden noise. Then the avatar laughed brightly.

“It sounds like the space heater needs some fuel!” he giggled, releasing Zuko from his hold and flitting on top of Appa’s foot. Zuko stared sideways sheepishly, gripping his belly, still rattled by the random cuddle attack. His stomach continued to rumble against his fingertips, pleading for anything besides tea. He’d forgotten that he’d hardly eaten yesterday. Now that he was no longer nauseous, he was really beginning to feel the effects.

“Do you have an appetite at all?” Katara asked. “We have fish and berries and a little bit of bread. You need to get some food in your system if you can.”

Zuko shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess,” he mumbled. A second later, his tummy practically roared, causing heat to rush to his ears.

“I think the monster in your stomach speaks for itself,” Sokka snickered. His friends chuckled alongside him. Zuko squeezed his belly tighter, as if he could smother it into silence.

Katara tugged on the avatar’s sleeve. “Aang, why don’t you go grab him some breakfast while Sokka and I move him into the tent?”

Aang brightened. “Okay!” He formed a ball of air underneath his body and sprung onto it, balancing on top with one foot and zipping away like some kind of crazy performer in a freaky circus act. Toph followed after him, yawning and stretching.

Zuko looked uneasy as the two Water Tribe siblings approached. Appa nuzzled his back with his nose in an almost encouraging manner.

“Can you walk at all, or do you want us to carry you?”

The prince glowered. “I’m not going back in the tent,” he hissed. “And you’re not carrying me.”

“You need another healing session. I figured you’d want some privacy.” Katara rolled her eyes. “But if you want to do it out here, grouchy pants, we can.”

Zuko thought on it for a moment. He supposed he’d prefer not having eight eyes watching as the Water Tribe girl put her weird glowy healing hands all over him. He looked up at the bison, who had angled his head toward him in an oddly convenient manner.

“Fine,” he mumbled. He grabbed hold of Appa’s horn and used it to lift his body off the ground, straining and sputtering. Once he was upright, he sagged against the fluffy monster, sweat beading across his brow, face flushed with effort. Appa stayed still for him, perfectly content being a two-ton support stand for the tiny, warm human.

Katara and Sokka shared a look before flanking Zuko on either side, wrapping their arms under his and bearing the majority of his weight. They walked him toward the tent, letting his feet touch the ground so he didn’t feel like he was being carried even though that was essentially what was happening.

“Wow, Aang was right,” Sokka observed. “You are really warm. Just like a—”

“If you say space heater, I’m lighting your hair on fire,” Zuko grated out.

Katara gaped. “If you even think about lighting my brother’s hair on fire, your ungrateful butt is going in the river.”

“Yeah,” Sokka chuckled. “The fishies need a turn cuddling Prince Hothead.”

Zuko grumbled something under his breath, but didn’t have the energy to banter. He hated having to be cared for and escorted around by his stupid enemies. The Water Tribe siblings in particular both annoyed and puzzled him. He’d never seen a brother and sister get along so well, let alone be protective of each other. Azula would never in a million years defend him if he were in trouble; she’d be watching from the front row with a bowl of fire flakes, cheering for his demise, if not trying to kill him herself. Similarly, for as long as he’d known them, Ozai and Iroh had always been rivals first, relatives second. Being dual heirs to the Fire Nation throne just gave you another person to compete with, to fear, to suspect of plotting your assassination. Royal Fire Nation siblings were never allies, and certainly not friends.

He and Azula had been playmates when they were kids, of course. As a child, Zuko had protected his little sister whenever and however he could. But that only lasted until they began to understand who they were—what they were. Until Azula no longer needed his protection. Until he needed protection from her.

If it came down to it, if it was life or death, would he still defend her? Or would he let her get what she deserved?

Even after getting zapped into oblivion by his sister, it was hard to say.

“Where’s my uncle?” Zuko asked through his teeth as they led him into the tent.

“He went to a nearby town to get supplies,” Sokka replied. “He said he was looking for ingredients for some kind of burn balm for you.”

Sokka eyed him in a way that screamed you know, because he actually cares about you, unlike a certain son-banishing Fire Lord I know?

Zuko turned away from his gaze and glared at the ground. He hoped Uncle would find what he needed and get back here soon. Whatever medicine he’d put on his eye in the infirmary three years ago had significantly sped up his recovery.

“How are you feeling right now, overall?” Katara asked. She and her brother helped him sit against the wall. He held his shoulder and panted softly, his face gnarled with pain.

“Like I got struck by lightning two days ago,” he muttered.

Sokka barked out a laugh. Katara frowned at him. He withered beneath her glare. “What?” he said defensively. “It was funny! Wasn’t that supposed to be funny?”

“Why don’t you go harvest some nuts or something?” Katara said, pushing him toward the exit. Sokka dug his heels into the ground, narrowing his eyes at the injured prince.

“You’re okay being alone with him?” Sokka asked. “What if he firebends at you?”

Katara scoffed in Zuko’s direction. “Don’t worry,” she insisted. “I’m more than capable of handling him myself.”

Zuko scowled, even though he knew she was right. Sure, he could get a surprise attack in—two, if he was lucky. But she’d easily counter with a lash of frozen water, rendering him immobile (and possibly eating the floor) in seconds, if not dead. She had gotten obnoxiously better at fighting since visiting the Northern Water Tribe. She was now one of the biggest threats he encountered when confronting their team, even when he wasn’t half-fried and barely able to walk. In his current state, he didn’t stand a chance.

It wasn’t like he was planning to attack her—not right now, at least. Still. These were the anxieties constantly seething through his mind. In the event he needed to overpower her, it was scary to realize he probably couldn’t. Why did Uncle think it was okay to leave him all by himself with these people? The old man was far too trusting.

Sokka wrinkled his nose. “Okay,” he relented, giving Katara a quick hug. Then he jabbed a finger at Zuko. “Don’t try anything funny or fiery with my sister, or you’ll be sorry. Got it?”

Zuko stared between them bemusedly, then offered a short nod. Sokka puffed up his chest and marched out of the tent, leaving the waterbender and the firebender alone inside.

Once her brother’s footsteps had faded out of earshot, Katara turned to the prince with sharp eyes and an expression he couldn’t quite read. She popped open her pouch and streamed the water around her hands, cycling a slow breath through her lungs.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said, and kneeled beside him. She pressed both palms to the wound on his chest and let the water flow over and into the burnt flesh, tracking the damage as it traveled through his body. Zuko tensed at first, the strange, cold feeling taking him by surprise. But as the pain began to ebb away—the stings, the aches, the twinges, all of it—he allowed himself to relax. Well, as much as he could relax with a Water Tribe girl who hated his guts sitting uncomfortably close to him with her hands on his chest.

As the two sat in awkward silence, Zuko considered the possibility that choosing to be alone with Katara while she healed him was worse than being out in the open.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked, shooting brief glances at her hands, but mostly just staring at the ground.

“About twenty minutes, if you stay still,” she answered. Hardly a minute had passed, and already Katara knew she preferred healing an unconscious Zuko over an awake one. When he was asleep, she didn’t have to worry about breaking the tension, or tip-toeing around his injury, or those deadly golden eyes watching her every move. She didn’t even have to acknowledge that he was Zuko, their nemesis. He was just a body that needed to be healed. A broken pile of muscle and skin for her to mend with waterbending. It was like working with one of those dummies the Northern Water Tribe women had practiced and demonstrated their healing abilities on. Treating him while he was unconscious was easier because she didn’t have to think of him as a person. It was more like fixing a machine.

Zuko’s piercing stare lingered on her hands a little longer than she liked. Maybe she should get him to drink more of his uncle’s knock-out tea. Anything to escape the growing balloon of discomfort suffocating the air between them.

“How...are you doing that?” he inquired carefully, the glow from her waterbending glinting in his eyes. She weighed the question in her mind before choosing her reply.

“Some waterbenders have healing abilities,” she said. “Lucky for you, I’m one of them.”

Zuko studied her for a second before looking away. “I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Maybe you would have, if the Fire Nation hadn’t killed nearly every last waterbender in the South Pole.”

Zuko’s eyes flitted wide for a moment before dropping to the floor. He swallowed, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“I’m sorry.”

Katara’s steady hand movements wavered. She lifted her gaze to his. Now that she knew the story behind his scar—the malevolent forces and people who had allowed the prince to be permanently branded so cruelly—she found it difficult to tear her eyes away from it. She’d never noticed how painful it looked. How the scorched, leathery skin stood out so drastically against the rest of his young, unblemished face. He could be two totally different people, depending on which side of him you were looking at. Staring at him now made her stomach clench. It felt like she was seeing him—truly seeing him—for the very first time.

The apology had caught her off guard. So much so, she didn’t realize how long she’d been gazing at him until he turned toward her. A flash of realization crossed his face.

“My—my sister didn’t give me this one too, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Katara glanced away quickly, feeling rude. “N-no, that’s not…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry.”

Zuko gave a small shrug. “It’s fine,” he said, although his expression told a different story.

She went back to healing his shoulder. Now she was purposely not looking at his face, which somehow felt just as awkward. A full minute passed before either of them spoke again.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked quietly.

Zuko blinked at her. “What?”

“Your eye. Does it still hurt sometimes?”

A line formed between his brows. “It’s a scar,” he said.

“Is that a no?”

He shifted in place, looking thoughtful and uneasy. He reached up and grazed the burned skin with his fingertips. “I guess I sometimes think it’s hurting, but...I don’t think it’s real.”

Katara nodded solemnly. “Sokka has a scar on his back like that. He fell out of a canoe as a kid and landed on a sharp patch of ice. It really rattled him, and he says it still stings from time to time. But he thinks it’s all in his head.”

Zuko looked down at her hands again. “Do you think it’s all in his head?”

The waterbender pursed her lips in thought. Then she lifted her shoulders somberly. “Does it matter? It still hurts him. Except there’s nothing I can do to make it better.”

The prince had a curious expression on his face, like he wanted to understand what she was saying while also knowing he never would. This was the longest she’d ever seen him go without boasting his signature scowl.

“You and your brother care a lot about each other,” he said warily. Not as a question, but a stated fact. An observation.

“Of course we do,” she said, almost laughing. Zuko eyed his shoulder wound dismally.

“Must be nice,” he murmured.

Katara followed his gaze and grimaced. “Oh,” she said. She’d almost forgotten it was his sister who had nearly electrocuted him to death.

“I guess not all siblings were meant to get along like you two.”

Katara couldn’t imagine not being friends with her brother. Sure, they’d had their fair share of spats and squabbles, as all siblings were bound to have. But to honestly, genuinely hate each other? To see him as an enemy rather than her most trusted companion? To not have each other’s backs through thick and thin, in every trial they’d faced together?

And to actually try to kill each other…the absurdity of the concept blew her mind.

But she and Sokka weren’t Zuko and Azula.

“I guess not,” she said softly. Her hands moved to hover directly over the gruesome injury. “Still...I can’t believe your own sister did this to you.”

“Have you met Azula?” Zuko scoffed.

Katara narrowed her eyes. “If you had the chance, would you kill her?”

Zuko lifted his gaze and blinked. A flicker of uncertainty touched his irises—one that scared both of them. Then his expression clouded over.

“No,” he said adamantly, swallowing. “But if she was in danger dying, I don’t know if I’d save her.”

Silence shrouded the room. In that moment, it occurred to Katara that she was doing the exact thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do. She was interacting with Zuko like he was a normal human being, not their sworn enemy. Not the person who had tried to imprison her friend over and over. Not the prince of the most bloodthirsty nation on the planet. She cursed herself for so carelessly letting him in, for actually feeling bad for him.

She set her jaw and refocused her attention on his wound. She wouldn’t let herself slip again.

“We saved you,” she pointed out coldly. “Because unlike you and Azula, we’re actually good people.”

She felt Zuko tense and saw his hand curl into a fist out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t react. She continued to begrudgingly heal his injury, moving her palms along his collarbone.

Unbeknownst to her, Zuko was actually glad she’d decided to insult him the same moment her hands changed position on his body. The feeling of the water healing his wound fanned outwards from wherever her palms touched, strange and cool and tingly—perfectly fine when it was just over his shoulder. But as she inched toward his neck, the tingly sensation started crawling up the sensitive skin, spreading underneath his chin. In an instant, the feeling went from soothing and mystical to tickling him like a feather. Zuko soon found himself clenching his teeth and coiling his muscles in attempt not to laugh, a position he had not anticipated being in. When it grew too much to handle, he jerked away, gripping his throat.

Katara winced in surprise, her water-coated hands hanging in the air. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Zuko blinked. “Um.” His face suddenly felt warm. How was he going to explain this? He rubbed his tingling skin nervously. “It just—hurt. I’m sore there.”

“Where? On your neck?” She reached toward his throat, but he flinched back from her touch. A line formed between her eyes. “Let me see. I might be able to help.”

“It’s fine,” he snapped. “I just tweaked it. It doesn’t need your freaky magic hands.” If that tingly feeling was pressed directly against his neck, he was certain he’d fall to pieces in seconds. He was embarrassingly sensitive, as Uncle had recently (and obnoxiously) discovered, and he had no desire for anyone else to find out—especially his enemies. He’d sooner let Azula fry his other shoulder than let that happen.

Fortunately for him, Katara didn’t press the issue. “Fine,” she said, letting her hands fall to her sides. “I’m done with the wound on your chest for now anyway.”

Zuko breathed a sigh of relief. Bullet: dodged.

“Now I can start on your foot.”

A spark of alarm shot up Zuko’s spine. His eyes popped open as she moved to sit by his feet.

“W-what?” he exclaimed.

Katara gave him a questioning look. “Your foot,” she said, pointing. “It needs to be healed, too. You know, the one you can hardly put any weight on?” She gave his sole a light tap, causing dread to rise in his belly. “The lightning entered your chest, traveled down your left side, and exited out of the bottom of your left foot. The scar on it matches the one on your chest—it’s just smaller.”

Just the thought of that tingling sensation spreading across his sole was enough to make him twitchy. Zuko swallowed, worrying his thumbs in his lap. “Do you…have to heal it?” he asked timidly.

Katara frowned at him. “I mean, yeah. If you ever want to walk normally again.”

It took a moment for the change in his demeanor to catch her attention. He looked shy and fidgety all of sudden, as if he was about to give a speech but had forgotten his notes, and he was doing absolutely everything he could to avoid her gaze. His face also had a slight pink tint to it, like he’d been holding his breath.

“Is something wrong?” she finally asked him. Zuko hesitated before shaking his head. He was doomed either way, but he refused to confess what was really going on. If he kept his mouth shut, at least there was a chance he could find the strength to stay composed—perhaps enough for her not to notice.

Katara studied him for a few more puzzled seconds before shrugging it off and getting to work. She used one hand to hold his ankle steady while the other brought the water to his sole. The scar was in the center of the ball of his foot, just above his arch and right below his toes, which was why Zuko was having so much trouble walking on it. His leg would probably be stiff for a while, but she could heal it enough for him to at least start putting some weight on it again.

But barely two seconds into the healing session, Zuko yanked his foot out of her grip. She flinched and looked up at him, narrowing his eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked irritably. “I told you, you have to stay still.”

Zuko had his hands shoved under his armpits and his lips pursed tight. “Oh, r-right,” he said. His voice was pitched slightly higher than normal. When he didn’t return his foot to her, she grabbed his ankle and dragged it back to its original position.

“Don’t move,” she demanded, and pressed her glowing palm against his sole again.

Easy for you to say! Zuko thought miserably. The tingly sensation revved back to life, sprawling down his heel and between his toes. It felt like his entire foot was being brushed with tiny, magical feathers. Even worse, it hurt to curl his arch or scrunch up his toes, so he really couldn’t move other than ripping his foot away or kicking her in the face, which he was seriously considering.

A flood giggles started building behind his lips. He twitched and snorted and slapped a palm over his mouth before tearing his foot away from her tingly touch. Katara huffed exasperatedly, balling her hands into fists.

“What is your problem?” she shouted. “What part of ‘don't move’ and ‘stay still’ do you not understand?”

Zuko’s ears felt like they were on fire. He hugged his knee skittishly, grappling for an excuse. “I don’t—I’m not trying to,” he stammered, rubbing his heel against the ground.

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

The prince crossed his arms close to his chest. “Because—” he said, biting his lip. “I just—I don’t...like how it feels.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like how it feels?” she parroted mockingly. “You didn’t mind how it felt when I was healing your chest. Why is this any different?”

Zuko didn’t answer. The firebender was noticeably flustered—hands restless, shoulders hunched. Clearly there was something bothering him that he wasn’t letting on about. Katara’s expression softened.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said, changing her tone. Zuko was in a pretty vulnerable position. Even if he was evil, he still felt pain the same way she and all her friends did. As a healer, she had to acknowledge that. She sighed levelly. “But you need to stay still so I can heal you properly.” The waterbender nodded towards his foot. “Is it hurting when I heal you? Is that why you keep jumping away?”

Zuko shook his head. “N-no, it’s not...” he mumbled, scratching his forearm nervously. His eyes stayed locked on the ground, as if it would disappear from underneath him if he dared look away. “It’s just...weird.”

“Weird?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Weird how?”

“You know...weird.”

Katara scoffed. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Forget it,” Zuko growled, scowling between his feet. “I’ll let it heal naturally.”

“You’ll have a limp for the rest of your life if you do that.”

A grimace crawled across his face. Zuko shifted uncomfortably, weighing the two evils in his mind.

“Just tell me why you can’t keep still,” Katara insisted. “Use your words, your highness. Does it sting? Does it burn? Is it making your skin pruny? What?”

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” he snapped. “It feels weird, so I’m not staying still.” He turned away bitterly. “Why don’t you learn how to heal in a way that doesn’t feel weird?”

The waterbender stared at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. She placed her hands on her hips. “You’re being a spoiled little brat right now, you know that?”

Zuko continued glaring at the wall, his stomach rumbling quietly. Katara sighed.

“Fine,” she said. She stood and walked out of the tent, disappearing into the sunshine. Zuko watched her go, blinking. Had she given up? Maybe she had another way to heal him that didn’t require tingly waterbending magic. He exhaled slowly and stretched out his legs, allowing himself to relax a little.

The moment he did, two bands of earth rose up from the ground and wrapped around his ankles, trapping his feet in place. At the same time, the wall opened up behind him and swallowed his arms from the elbows down, pinning his hands behind his back. Zuko yelped in surprise, straining against the newly formed bonds as Katara re-entered the tent, tailed by Toph.

“Hey! W-what are you doing?” He tugged and pulled to try to free his arms, grunting with effort.

Katara smirked. “Making you stay still so I can heal you, of course.”

Zuko gawked. Uh oh. Trying not to laugh when he could pull away from the tickling sensation anytime it grew too intense was already hard enough as it was. But trying not to laugh when he couldn’t escape it at all? Not good.

“Now I can make sure you’re up and walking again in no time.” Katara grinned at the earthbender. “Thanks, Toph.”

“Sure,” Toph replied, looming over the trapped firebender smugly. Zuko blanched, squirming even more.

“Th-this is absurd! Let me go!” The prince wrenched and fought with all his might, but it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. He was thoroughly, entirely pinned. Even at his full strength, he doubted he’d be able to escape Toph’s rock-cuffs.

“Relax, Squirmy,” Toph chuckled. “You’re in good hands. Katara knows what she’s doing.”

She most certainly does not, he thought skittishly. Not yet, at least. And I’d really prefer to keep it that way! He twisted and turned as the Water Tribe girl sat by his feet again, reaching for his now defenseless sole. Anxiety leapt into Zuko’s throat.

“Wait!” he cried. “I’ll—I’ll be still. I promise.” He fidgeted sheepishly. “Just...let me out of this.”

Katara had no idea what was causing him to act so strange and frantic. She’d never had anyone respond to her healing sessions this way. But as entertaining as it was, she’d had enough of it.

“I’m sure you would, Zuko,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But this guarantees it.”

With that, she pressed her palm to his foot and willed the water to mend the damaged flesh. It was a lot easier to do now that he wasn’t pulling away every two seconds.

Once she got into her usual healing rhythm, she looked up at Zuko, expecting the assuage to calm his bizarre uneasiness. Instead, she found him with his face buried in his shoulder as his cheeks burned bright red.

“Zuko?” she said, startled. “What’s wrong?”

The prince shook his head, his body shivering like his fever had returned. He was trying his best to hide his face, but she could see enough to notice he was smiling, although it looked like he was fighting it with every ounce of his being.

“Why are you smiling?” she asked, the corners of her own lips lifting in puzzled amusement. She didn’t think she’d ever seen the grumpy firebender actually, genuinely smile before. It was a nice look on him, even when he was trying desperately to conceal it. He was also making a bunch of funny little noises—stifled squeaks and snorts he was struggling to keep at bay. At the same time, he was twitching and wriggling sporadically, as if his pants were crawling with centibeetles.

“He’s smiling?” Toph asked, mirroring Katara’s grin. Curiously, Katara’s gaze dropped to his foot. She moved her hand down his sole and gently fluttered her fingers against the center of his arch. Zuko’s wild reaction confirmed her hilarious hypothesis.

“Ahack!” the prince yelped, his entire body going rigid. He whirled on her bewilderedly. “Dohon’t do that!”

Katara’s face lit up with delight. “No way. You’re ticklish?” She scribbled her nails toward his heel, making Zuko squeak and writhe. “Oh man! You are! That’s why you’re being so weird and squirmy!”

“S-stohop it!” Zuko giggled, a giant smile overtaking his features. Meanwhile, he was absolutely dying on the inside. This was too humiliating for words. His whole body smoldered with embarrassment while his toes twitched in protest.

“Is my waterbending tickling you?” she wondered aloud, swirling one finger against his sole in thought, fiercely enjoying his erratic response. If there were ever a time she’d consider calling Zuko cute, it was now, when he was squealing and squirming beneath her delicate touch, flashing one of his rare (and surprisingly radiant) smiles, his face rosy with shame. She chuckled softly. “Hm. That’s new. No one’s ever told me it tickled them before. You must be really sensitive, huh?”

Thankfully, Katara did stop tickling him, but the evil smirk she drilled him with rendered him no less flustered. The damage was done, and there was no taking it back. Toph placed her fists on her hips and grinned smugly.

“Aw! No wonder he didn’t want to tell you why he couldn’t stay still. The little Fire Princey is embarrassed! How cute!”

For the second time that day, Zuko’s face turned as red as a lychee nut. He pouted timidly.

“Sh-shut up!” he snarled. “It’s not cute!” He didn’t seem to understand the fact that the more he denied it, the less he was helping his case.

“What’s not cute?” Aang’s chipper voice called, causing dread to shudder up Zuko’s skeleton. He and Sokka stepped through the doorway, holding bags of provisions.

Katara giggled into her hand. “Yeah, Zuko,” she said pointedly. “What’s not cute?”

The firebender shrunk into himself shyly. Aang tilted his head to the side.

“Why is Zuko all bound up?” he asked. “Did he attack one of you?”

“He wouldn’t stay still for Katara’s healing session,” Toph explained, a mischievous glint in her faded eyes.

Katara pressed her water-cloaked palm to his foot again, boasting a bright grin. “But we don’t have to worry about that anymore! Right, Zuko?”

If Zuko were able, he’d definitely kick her in the face right now. Unfortunately for him, all he could do was cringe and bite the inside of his cheek, battling back a wall of bubbly giggles while squirming against his restraints.

“Why does he look like he’s about to explode?” Sokka asked, frowning.

“But like...happy explode!” Aang observed.

Toph chuckled, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Because Katara’s water healing technique is tickling him,” she explained, feeling Zuko’s heart leap in despair. “She has to heal the exit wound on his foot, but apparently his feet are super ticklish.”

To Zuko’s dismay, two more pairs of eyes turned on his blushing, smiley self with stunned delight. Other than the Agni Kai with his father, Zuko couldn’t remember another moment in his life where he so desperately wanted to be invisible.

“Zuko is ticklish?” Aang exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “Aw! That’s adorable!”

Zuko considered retaliating, but if he opened his mouth, laughter was the only thing coming out. Sokka snickered.

“First we discover you sleep with a traveling petting zoo, and now we find out you’re ticklish?” The Water Tribe boy tsked disappointedly. “Man. Your bad guy aesthetic has taken a major hit today, buddy.”

Aang hopped to Zuko’s left side, leaning in close to his flushed face. “If you’re tickling him, how come he’s not laughing?” he inquired.

Katara chuckled softly. “I think he’s putting all his effort into keeping himself from laughing,” she said. “He seems determined not to let us hear it.”

A steady stream of whimpers and squeaks were escaping the flustered firebender, but he was somehow managing to stave off the tsunami of giggles. If somebody wasn’t intentionally tickling him, it seemed he was able to stay quiet, so long as all his focus was honed in on that goal.

Before Aang had a chance to remedy this injustice, Iroh appeared in the doorway of the tent, beaming with excitement.

“Zuko, look what I found!” he exclaimed, holding up his fist. “Feathers from the rare blue skink quail! Legend says if you add them to your tea, they can cure any ailment!” He eyed the long quills suspiciously. “Unless I am mistaken, and they are actually normal skink quail feathers, which are known to cause uncontrollable dysentery if consumed…”

He glanced up from his dilemma to find his nephew pinned down with shackles made of earth, looking extremely red in the face. He was surrounded by the avatar and his friends, who appeared amused by the prince’s pitiful squirming.

“Hey Iroh, did you know Zuko is ticklish?” Aang giggled.

Iroh blinked, taken back by the sight and the question. “What are you doing to my nephew?” he asked bemusedly.

“I’m just healing him,” Katara insisted, pointing to the glowing hand on his sole. “But I guess the feeling on his foot tickles, so we had to restrain him to keep him still.”

Iroh stared at Zuko’s twitchy toes, then at his smiling, blushing face. A stroke of endearment touched his heart. He loved seeing Zuko smile, even if the reason at the moment wasn’t to his liking. Unfortunately, the only way to get his hotheaded nephew to smile nowadays was through convoluted and unconventional methods like tickling. He tried not to use his adorable sensitivity against him too often, knowing it embarrassed the prince tremendously, but sometimes he felt he had to do it just to remind himself that Zuko was capable of joy and laughter, no matter how hard he tried to convince both of them he wasn’t. It was especially nice to see him smiling now, after nearly losing him to Azula’s attack. The thought of never seeing his nephew’s happy face again was too painful to dwell on.

“I see,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upward. “He’s probably not pleased you found out about his little weakness.”

“Uncle!” Zuko squeaked out before shutting back up again, clenching his teeth behind his lips. The children chuckled in delight. He was really struggling now, snickering and sputtering with his eyes squeezed shut. Not even Katara was immune to the endearing scene. She offered him a sympathetic smile.

“You know you can laugh if you want,” she said earnestly. “I imagine it’s not easy to fight it for this long. It might actually be good for you.”

“Yeah!” Aang chirped. “It’s just like the monks always said: laughter is the best medicine.” He sat down beside him, beaming brilliantly. “Don’t be shy! Go ahead!”

Zuko shook his head adamantly, shoving his face into his shoulder as his whole body trembled and quaked. He had already been humiliated beyond all reason—he would not grant them any more satisfaction at his expense. A wry grin curled along Sokka’s lips.

“Perhaps the stubborn prince needs a little more encouragement,” he suggested. He plucked one of the large feathers from Iroh’s fist. “Could I borrow one of these?”

“Sure,” Iroh said knowingly. “I probably won’t be using them anyway. I don’t have a great track record with concocting teas from strange things I found in the wilderness.”

Sokka skipped between his friends to sit on the firebender’s right side, opposite of Aang. “This oughta do the trick,” he said. Grinning eagerly, he held the soft end of the feather above Zuko’s torso, wiggling it threateningly. “Hey Fire Lord Spawn,” he teased him, “is your upper body ticklish too?”

Something lithe and fuzzy started brushing against his side, causing Zuko’s eyes to fly open. Horror sprawled across his face as goosebumps bubbled up from his skin.

“Ah! W-wahait! Don’t—!” He clamped his mouth shut and tried to angle his body out of the feather’s reach, but Sokka made sure the tickly bristles stayed glued to his side, gliding in the space between his hips and ribs.

Zuko’s steely resolve was snuffed out in seconds. The sensation tickled far too much for the poor prince to take. Add that to the tingly tickles on his foot, and he knew he was done for. In real time, the four kids and the old man watched Zuko’s willpower rapidly crumble away: from whimpering to snorting to thrashing in place, until finally—

“Ehahaha!” he belted out, his cheeks glowing bright pink. He bucked and writhed, bursting with uncontrollable giggles. “Nohoheehee! Stahap!”

“Aww! There ya go!” Aang cheered.

“No way,” Toph gasped. “That’s Zuko?”

Sokka smirked triumphantly as he swooped the feather up and down the full length of the firebender’s side, drawing airy, nervous giggles from his lips. It was a softer kind of laughter compared to the time Iroh had attacked his tummy in the cave, but just as endearing—if not more so. Plus, in his current state, gentler tickling was definitely more appropriate.

“Q-quihit it! Gehet awahay!” His eyes darted around the room, searching feverishly for a way out of this ticklish nightmare. Among the unfriendly faces, he spotted Iroh, who was watching the scene play out from the back, chuckling softly.

“Uhuncle!” Zuko bubbled, his wide smile and bright laughter melting Iroh’s heart. He squirmed helplessly, burning from head to toe. “Mahake them stohop!”

Iroh grinned, stroking his beard. “I think the avatar is right, Prince Zuko. Laughter is a wonderful remedy for a broken body and a troubled soul. Indulging yourself in it for a little while may benefit your condition, especially right now.”

Zuko stopped listening six words in, when it was clear he wasn’t going to help him. His mind was too occupied by the feeling of the feather delicately tracing the right side of his ribcage, causing light but frantic giggles to spill from his throat. Sokka lingered in the spot just below his underarm, teasing and stroking the exceptionally sensitive skin, then dragged the feather back down his side, fluttering the tip right above his hip bone.

Katara chuckled along with the giggly prince, still grappling with the notion that the shrill, happy noise ringing in her ears was coming from Zuko. The typically grumpy firebender had a laugh that was both joyful and shy, like every second longer he heard himself doing it was making him all the more ashamed of it. He continued to try to muffle his giggling but was failing at every turn. The fact he was so mortified by the sound of his own laughter almost made her sad.

“I think Prince Grouchy Butt is embarrassed of his laugh,” she observed amusedly. “Is that why you don’t do it very often?”

The blush in Zuko’s face bled down into his neck. Iroh chortled.

“He has a strict image of hostility and toughness he likes to maintain,” the old man explained. “I don’t think giggling like a child fits into that criteria.”

Sokka cooed, brushing the feather all over his belly. “Poor little Zuko, trying so hard to act tough. Too bad all it takes to shatter that facade is one wiggly feather!” He painted figure eights across his abs, noticing the sharp leap in the prince’s voice. “Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think tough guys typically have such ticklish tummies.”

“Stahap patronizing me!” Zuko demanded between giggles, doubling over as much as his restraints would allow. “Youhou’re all gonna—p-payhay for this!”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Iroh assured him, unfazed by his nephew’s squeaky threats.

“Yeah,” Katara agreed, grinning fiendishly. “Your laugh is super cute.”

The way he looked at her, you’d think she just told him he would never walk again. Katara couldn’t help but snicker, which only made his face heat up more. Zuko fought once again to stem the waterfall of laughter from breaching his lips, but it was hopeless. The feeling of the feather teasing his bare skin was driving him mad with giggles.

“Nohot—it’s nohohot—eheeheehahahagh!”

He was so focused on the soft bristles mercilessly exploring his right side, he didn’t even notice the avatar nabbing a feather from his uncle and floating down on his left until he started swirling the soft end inside his belly button.

“Katara’s right, Zuko! Your laugh is super cute. Now I just wanna hear more of it!”

Zuko threw his weight around and arched his spine. “Nohohahaha!” he squealed, the sensation sending shocks across his ticklish tummy. “Ahagh—s-stahap! Thahat feels so weeheeheird!”

The room buzzed with laughter. “He means it tickles,” Katara translated with a snort. “Weird is his word for when something tickles.”

His hysterical response only seemed to goad Aang’s tickling fervor. The airbender drew slow ‘Xs’ over his navel, skimming the side of the feather along the edges as he stroked the tip back and forth, all while asking in a playfully mocking voice, “Does this feel weird, Zuko? Or this? How about this?”

Meanwhile, Sokka started scratching his midriff with the quill part of the feather, which Zuko didn’t expect to tickle beyond human comprehension. But it did, making him shiver and squirm and peal into shrill, sheepish laughter.

“Ahaha! Ihi’m—ehaha—mhmheeheehee!”

He didn’t even know what he was trying to say at this point. Every ticklish inch of him wanted to beg for mercy, but that would require sacrificing his last leg of dignity, and he was resolved not to degrade himself any further. Unfortunately, that meant he just had to endure their torment until they got bored with it, and who knew how long that would take.

Sokka and Aang could sense the firebender was reaching his limits. They exchanged a look and eased back on their tickle attack, switching to the fuzzy sides of their feathers and giving him longer breaks between strokes. He was still wounded, after all. If this was how he reacted to being tickled by two gentle, innocuous feathers, Aang could only imagine how much he’d lose it if they started using their hands.

The prince’s laughter returned to nervous, airy giggles—the kind that made Iroh want to pinch his rosy cheeks. He twitched and flinched every time the feathers made contact with his skin, which Sokka and Aang were brushing higher and higher up his body.

“Do you think his armpits are ticklish?” Aang wondered, stroking his feather dangerously close to his underarm, making Zuko cringe.

“Good question! Why don’t we ask him?” Sokka did the same, drawing a yelp from the firebender’s lips. “Hey Zuko, are your armpits ticklish?”

Poor Zuko was doing everything possible to guard himself, pulling his arms as close to his sides as he could, but the way he was pinned didn’t allow him to protect them completely. The remaining gaps were the perfect size for two silky feathers to slip right into and destroy him.

“Youhou’re both soho dehead,” he giggled helplessly, straining against his bonds.

“I can confirm his armpits are quite ticklish!” Iroh exclaimed. “In fact, they may be his worst spot.”

Zuko bared his teeth at his uncle in what he hoped resembled a snarl. “Youhou’re dead too!” he snapped, his arm muscles trembling with effort. “Traihaihaitor!”

“How ‘bout, on the count of three, we both go for his pits?” Aang proposed to Sokka with a wink.

Sokka grinned, winking back. “Ready when you are.”

Aang held his feather toward his underarm. “One....”

Sokka mirrored him, swirling the quill tauntingly. “Two…”

Zuko went pink with anticipation. He shut his eyes, squirming anxiously. “Ihi’m gonna—k-kill all of you!”

The two boys giggled at the flustered prince, drawing out the last count just for good measure. Aang smirked in delight.

“Three!”

Both of them lunged toward the firebender without making contact. As expected, Zuko busted out laughing anyway, nervous giggles pouring from his lips.

“What’s the matter? We’re not even touching you!” Sokka teased him.

“We’re not tickling you, so why are you laughing?” Aang concurred. They wiggled their feathers an inch away from his skin, inflicting him with phantom tickling sensations.

Zuko was at his wit’s end with this entire humiliating affair. He continued to writhe restlessly, snickering into his shoulder.

“You jerherks! You’re insane! Ahall of you!” He squeaked as Katara’s hand crept toward his toes, shooting tingly, tickly snakes between them. “Come on! Lehet me go already!”

Sokka cocked his head to the side. “We’re jerks? For not tickling you?”

“Sounds to me like you’re mad that we aren’t actually tickling you,” Aang mused.

Zuko stiffened. “W-what?”

“We were just messing with you with the whole countdown thing,” Sokka continued.

“But if you’re going to call us jerks for not tickling you…”

“Then I guess we better give the guy what he wants.”

The whole scheme was so well-rehearsed, Zuko was almost impressed. But he didn’t get to marvel at it long. A second later, two fuzzy feathers were swishing against his underarms, setting off every nerve ending in his body.

“Ahahaheehee!” He threw his head back, cackling wildly, twisting from side to side. “N-noho! Pfftahahack! Cuhut it ahouhahahaaa!”

Hiccups began punching through Zuko’s giggle fit. It didn’t look like Iroh had been kidding. Aang drew circles in the hollow of his pit while Sokka skated his feather up and down the underside of his upper arm, rendering the prince a wriggly, squealing mess. None of them could get over just how silly and adorable their nemesis was when he was laughing like crazy and squirming away from their tickle attack. He went from angry, scary firebender to giggly little teenager with one stroke of a feather. The happy expression on his face reminded Aang of his old friend Kuzon.

“What was it that I heard Azula’s call you?” Aang said, bopping him playfully on the nose. “Zu-Zu, right?”

“Zu-Zu?” Katara repeated, laughing out loud. “That’s so cute!”

At that point, Zuko’s entire body had turned a rosy red color. The feathers wisping against his underarms were driving him ballistic—not to mention their incessant efforts to make him blush.

“Dohon’t cahall me thahahat!” he giggled shrilly.

“How come?” Sokka asked, fluttering his feather in the hollow of his pit. “Does Prince Zu-Zu not like his adorable little nickname?”

Iroh chuckled lightly to himself, both adoring and pitying his poor nephew. “Are you going to join the fun?” he asked Toph, offering her the last feather.

“You’re terrible,” she snorted. “I love it.”

She snatched the quill from his hand and sat beside Katara. When the earthbender began whisking the soft bristles across his uninjured sole, Zuko’s whole leg jolted violently.

“Whaha—nohoho!” he cried. He curled his toes and flexed his foot, but it did nothing to deter Toph’s delicate and meticulous destruction of the ticklish firebender. She tickled the entirety of his sole, gauging his reactions to see which places and methods made him squirm the most. Sawing the feather between his toes ended up being her deadliest technique, leaving Zuko in writhing, squeaky stitches.

Now all four of them were teamed up on him, and Zuko was starting to lose it. The fuzzy feeling of three wiggly feathers and one tingly hand all tickling the most sensitive areas of his body at the same time was making his brain go haywire. It seemed the longer they teased his ticklish skin, the more sensitive it became to their touch, rendering him more desperate and more giggly with each passing second.

“Thihis—ihis—ehevil!” he gasped. Every word was either punctuated by hiccups, or followed by a stretch of silent laughter—where he was giggling so much, he could hardly make a sound.

Katara scoffed. “Did Zuko just call us evil? That’s hilarious.” She watched her friends tickle the helpless firebender to bits and chuckled at his hysterical flailing. She could hardly believe the cruel soldier she’d fought in the North Pole and the laughing teen wriggling in front of her were one and the same. It was crazy to think she actually used to be afraid of him. She could probably sit here and watch him squirm all day long and never get tired of it.

When Aang realized Toph had joined the fray, he switched to gently tickling Zuko’s neck to give him a breather. Sokka did the same, brushing his feather in the gap of his collarbone every now and then, sending spikes of chills across the prince’s skin.

Zuko’s giggling calmed down a tiny bit, but not as much as they expected. Aang laughed when he stroked the feather towards his ear and Zuko scrunched his head to his shoulder with a squeak.

“You might be the most ticklish person I’ve ever met,” Aang said cheerfully. “And I’m a hundred and twelve years old!”

“You’re definitely the squirmiest person I’ve ever met,” Sokka agreed, copying the movement on Zuko’s right side, making the prince yelp and hike that shoulder to his ear.

“Stahahap it!” he giggled. He didn’t know how much more of this he could bear. His flesh tingled all over, shuddering beneath the soft, silky touch of the three fuzzy feathers, which stroked and brushed and teased his bare skin without mercy. He’d breathe fire at them if he could, but it was impossible to gather enough air in his lungs to attempt the technique when he was laughing this hard.

The Water Tribe boy and the avatar started working in tandem to tickle whichever side of his neck was left exposed while Zuko struggled to guard himself, turning it into a fun little game of back and forth. He fought so hard not to shrink up every time they switched sides. Unsurprisingly, he failed every time.

“You’re so cute when you try not to squirm!” Sokka laughed, stroking the feather against the back of his ear. “Go ahead, keep fighting it. I’m sure it’ll work eventually.”

“Eheehee!” Zuko squeaked helplessly, jerking away and making Sokka smirk. “Y-you—rahat vihiper!”

The prince was spiraling. Just when he figured things couldn’t get any worse, Aang and Sokka jumped back down to his ribs and belly, gliding the feathers all over his torso and making him want to disintegrate.

“I think this is the most fun I’ve ever had with a firebender,” Toph said, poking the quill between his toes.

“Me too,” Katara agreed. “Look how smiley and blushy he is! It’ll be hard to ever take you seriously again after I’ve seen you like this.”

Zuko shook his head feebly. It was bad enough they were tickling him to humiliating extremes, making him erupt with high-pitched laughter that he was powerless to quell no matter how much he tried to shut up. Did they really have to make fun of him as well? He couldn’t even move, let alone cover his stupid, blushing face! Talk about fighting dirty. All he could do was wriggle and squeal as they tickled him senseless, his smile as wide and bright as the sun.

“Ahahaha! Guhuhuys!” he howled. What he would give to be an earthbender right now—or to temporarily have one on his side.

“Based on his heart rate, he gets even more flustered when you tease him while you tickle him,” Toph observed with a grin. She stroked the feather from the bottom of his heel to the ball of his foot, wiggling it for extra effect. “Coochie-coochie-coo, Zu-Zu! Doesn’t that tickle so much? It’s okay—laugh all you want! It’s not like you can make yourself stop.”

Aang snickered as Zuko’s ears turned a shade pinker. “Wait ‘til the whole world finds out how adorable the Fire Nation prince is when you tickle him!” he said, flitting the feather below his belly button, tickling the skin along his waistline. Based on the way bucked and yelped, he was exploring an extremely sensitive spot. But to be fair, there didn’t seem to be a lot of places on Zuko that weren't extremely sensitive.

The kids giggled in unison with the hapless prince, the joy on their faces making Iroh’s heart soft. As he watched his helpless nephew get teased and tickled out of his mind, he wished he could snapshot this moment in his memories and save it forever. Seeing the five of them laughing and goofing off together just seemed right, even if it was at Zuko’s expense. How he hoped Zuko’s time with these selfless children had changed him in some way, however small, for the better—offering him the chance to seize a new outlook on his life and his destiny. Iroh sensed the prince’s future was intertwined with the avatar’s, just not in the way he’d always imagined. Perhaps this could be his first step toward that realization.

Meanwhile, Zuko was in giggly shambles. He couldn’t handle another second of this teasy, feathery torment. He’d sworn they wouldn’t get him to beg, but that was the only way out of this he had left in his arsenal. He doubted it would work; it would probably just give them more fuel for their ‘let’s humiliate Zuko’ party. But he was out of options, and his head was starting to spin, and Uncle obviously wasn’t going to save him. He had to try.

“Ohokay!” he cried, breathless and defeated. He barely had the energy to twitch anymore; he was basically just lying there and taking it, tears glinting in the corners of his eyes. “Pleehease—please stahap! I cahan’t… m’g-gehetting…dihizzy…”

Iroh stepped forward to say something, but thankfully, he didn’t have to. All of them immediately stopped tickling Zuko, dropping their arms to their sides and watching the firebender sag with relief, airy giggles still slipping from lips as he fought to catch his breath.

“Gah...heh...uhugh…” He hung his head low, panting lightly. Even though the feathers were no longer tickling him, his skin itched and tingled in all the places they’d perused, and bubbly butterflies continued to dance in his belly. He was also mortified to his core, and probably would be for the rest of his existence, which wasn’t great. He couldn’t wipe the goofy smile off his face just yet. “Myhy…sihides…” he whined.

“See? All you had to do was ask nicely,” Toph said, grinning.

“Poor Zuko,” Sokka cooed, poking one of his bright red cheeks. “I’ve never seen anyone blush so much for so long before.”

He lolled out of his reach skittishly, fuming with embarrassment. “Stohop,” he whimpered. “Y-you’re all...psyhychos…”

Aang giggled with his hands on his hips. “We really got you good, huh? It was nice to see you look so happy for once. Maybe all that laughing will help you recover faster!”

“If the laughing doesn’t help, hopefully my healing will,” Katara said, holding up her glowing palm. Zuko winced.

“Ugh...pleehease tell me you’re done with that,” he said weakly. Katara chuckled.

“What, healing your foot?” she asked. She dragged one finger up the side of his arch. “Oh, yeah. I finished that, like, eight minutes ago.”

A startled giggle leapt from Zuko’s throat, making the four friends cackle and the prince’s ears burn. The moment they settled down, Zuko's stomach let loose a pitiful roar, causing them to crack up all over again.

“Oh man! You still haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Aang poked at his rumbling belly, making Zuko squirm and squeak. “Aw! You’ve got to be totally wiped! That was mean of us. We should’ve fed you first.”

“Quihit messing with me!” Zuko snapped, twitching and snickering beneath the avatar’s tasering fingertips. “Just...lehet me go already!”

“Are you going to attack us if we do?” Sokka asked dubiously. “You did say you were going to kill us before. Like, a lot.”

“Ihi’m seriously considering it!” he growled between giggles. “It’s whahat you deserve!”

Aang clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You might want to rethink your answer on that, your highness.” He sat beside the fettered prince and reached around his back, curling his hands around his tummy, grinning mischievously. “Because if you don’t promise you aren’t gonna hurt any of us after we let you go, I’m not going to stop doing this.”

To Zuko’s horror, the avatar started squeezing both sides of his bare torso, drilling his fingers deep into his flesh, jumping between his hips, his belly, his ribs, his pits, holding absolutely nothing back. Zuko jolted and shrieked, twisting and bucking uselessly, his laughter shooting to an entirely new octave of hysterical.

“AHAHAHAHAAA!” he screeched. “GAHA—S-STAHAHAHAP! IHIHEEHEEHAHAHAGH!”

“Whoa,” Toph whistled. “That’s new.”

“Let’s try again,” Aang said, feigning innocence. “Are you going to attack us once we release you, Prince Zuko?” He needled between each individual rib bone with deadly precision, then burrowed into the dips of the firebender’s hips.

Zuko thrashed and hiccuped, frantically trying to get the words out between bouts of wild cackling. “NOHOHAHAHAY—I WOHON’T! AHAHAHAY PRAHAHAMISE!” He didn’t think anything could ever tickle as badly as Aang’s ten fingers digging into his upper body did at that moment. The fact he couldn’t do anything to guard himself or wiggle away made it so unimaginably worse than any other time he’d been tickled. As carefree and goofy the twelve-year-old avatar could be, this was downright cruel. He was certain he would die if he didn’t stop. Laughter erupted from the teen like adorable, desperate lava. “PLEEHEEHEASE—NOHO—MOHOHOREHAHA!”

“That’s more like it!” Aang said jubilantly. He lifted his hands off the prince’s tummy and floated to his feet, grinning with triumph. “You can let him go now, Toph.”

Toph punched her fists toward the ground, and the rock restraints retracted from his ankles. A second later, she pounded her heel against the earth, freeing his arms from the wall. Zuko celebrated his newfound freedom by immediately shrinking into a tiny ball, hugging himself around the middle with his knees pulled to his chest, giggling dazedly as he fought to tame his breathing. The others watched him with smiles on their faces. They couldn’t help but be endeared.

“Are you all right, Prince Zuko?” Iroh eventually asked, crossing the room to kneel beside him. He laid a hand on his shoulder, which was beginning to bounce less and less.

“Myhy everything hurts…” he wheezed, but the smile refused to leave lips. He looked up at Iroh, woozy and flushed. “Why didn’t you...hehelp me…?”

Iroh smiled and wrapped him into a hug. Zuko groaned into his shirt but didn’t have the strength to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” Uncle said, rubbing his back. “But you know how much I love hearing you laugh. When Azula’s struck you, I thought I might never get to hear it again.” He squeezed him a little tighter. “Seeing you happy fills me with so much joy. I try to soak it in every time I get the chance.”

“I’m nohot happy,” he grumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. Iroh chuckled.

“I know you’re not,” he said, giving his side a gentle pinch. “But I hope one day you will be, so I can hear you laugh without resorting to this.”

Zuko flinched and squeaked, shoving him away with as much muscle as he could muster. “Ahack! Uncle!” He clamped his palms over his sides, blushing furiously. “Ehenough! I am so done with all of you!” He pouted at the ground, shoulders hunched, ears pink with embarrassment. “Just...leave me alone...”

“Sorry, Zuko,” Katara giggled. “We may have gone a little overboard. We’ve just never seen that side of you before. It was sweet.”

Zuko didn’t feel like acknowledging or interacting with any of them right now—maybe for the rest of time. He was too flustered and humiliated by what had just transpired to even begin to decide how to handle it. The sound of his laughter blared shrilly in the back of his mind, mortifying him to no end. Even after being tickled by Uncle not too long ago, he could still hardly believe how loud and hysterical his own laughter could get—that that silly, squeaky noise he was hearing was somehow coming from his own body. It was as if he was possessed by some girly-voiced ghost every time someone tickled him. It was relentlessly embarrassing.

“Don’t feel bad,” Toph said, swiping her arms toward her feet. Two hands made of earth stretched down from the roof and grabbed hold of Sokka and Aang’s wrists, hoisting them over their heads.

“Hey!” Aang cried.

“What the—?”

Toph stepped between the boys and tickled their exposed sides, making both of them squirm and laugh shrilly. “They act all high and mighty now, but they’re just as ticklish as you are.”

“Ehahaha! Tohoph!” Aang squealed.

“GAHAHASTAHAHAPIT!” Sokka shrieked, flailing around like a beached elephant coy.

“Or perhaps even more so,” Toph corrected herself smugly. She released them from her hold and shoved them both aside. They staggered in opposite directions, blushing deeply and thoroughly chagrined.

Zuko stared between the avatar and the Water Tribe boy. He had to admit, seeing them flustered did make him feel slightly better about this entire nightmarish affair. It also helped that he’d finally caught his breath and was no longer bubbling with giggles. He decided if he had to pick someone in their group to hate the least, it was Toph. Even if she kind of terrified him.

She scooped one of their bags of provisions off the floor and tossed it into Zuko’s lap. “Here—eat,” Toph said. “The sound of your stomach growling is driving me insane.”

Zuko flinched in surprise and eyed the offering warily. He dug around inside and found some bread, a couple strips of salmon jerky, and a weird, round fruit he didn’t recognize. His mouth watered at the prospect of finally getting to eat without yesterday's queasiness holding him back.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding up the fruit skeptically.

“Honey plum,” Toph answered. “Have you never had one before? They only grow in the southern Earth Kingdom.”

Zuko shook his head. Iroh plucked it out of his hand with a grin.

“A honey plum! What a treat! These are delicious, Prince Zuko. You must try it.”

He handed it back to him excitedly. Zuko frowned at the bluish-purple fruit before taking a hesitant bite. As he chewed, a sparkle of surprise touched his golden eyes.

“Wow,” he said, swallowing. “That is really good.” He bit into it again, this time with far less reluctance, munching eagerly to qualm his ravenous hunger. It was sweet and juicy, the swirl of bright flavors bursting like firecrackers on his tongue. He was so focused on feeding the monster in his gut, he didn’t look up for a while. But when he did, he was startled to find everyone staring at him.

“Why are all of you...watching me?” he mumbled over his mouthful, shrinking uncomfortably. “I feel like some kind of zoo animal.”

“No reason,” Aang said, grinning. “We’re just happy you like it!”

“You eat like Sokka at the Glacial Spirits Festival,” Katara giggled. “I expected the Fire Nation prince’s manners to be a tad more dignified.”

Warmth rushed back into the firebender’s cheeks. “I’m hungry!” he retorted defensively. “I haven’t eaten in almost a day and a half! What do you want me to do—stick out my pinky and curtsy with every bite?”

“Yes,” Sokka said enthusiastically. “Absolutely yes.”

Zuko huffed, nibbling at the plum self-consciously. “Why do you people insist on making me feel weird about everything I do?”

“Cuz it’s fun,” Toph snickered. “You’re so easy to fluster.”

Zuko bristled. “No I’m not!”

Katara tapped her chin in thought. “When you say ‘weird,’ do you mean the normal definition of weird, or do you mean your definition of weird, which is that something tickles?”

The prince reddened and avoided their gazes, knowing there was no answer to that question that worked in his favor.

“See? Like that,” Toph laughed, noting the spike in his heart rate. Zuko crossed his arms and stared sideways, hating having all their attention focused on his blushing self for so long.

“Don’t feel weird,” Aang insisted, cramming a handful of berries in his mouth. “Eat as much as you like—and as messily as you like! You deserve to porcupig out a little.”

“I’m sure he’s just tickled by our kindness and hospitality,” Sokka said, wiggling his feather at him teasingly.

Zuko grimaced and jabbed two fingers forward. In a puff of flame, Sokka’s feather disintegrated in his hand, making him gawk.

“Hey! No fair!”

Katara watched her brother mourn the loss of his new weapon amusedly, then stepped toward the skittish firebender. “Come on,” she said, offering him a hand. “Let’s see if you can walk any better after your healing session.”

Zuko glanced between her palm and her face uncertainly before accepting her help, letting the waterbender pull him to his feet. Iroh stood with him, holding out his hands in case he fell.

The prince wobbled a little once he was upright but didn’t need anyone’s support to stay that way. He flexed and stamped his left foot, delighted by the lack of pain that followed.

“It’s better,” he said, pleasantly surprised. “A lot better.” He braved a couple steps forward. He still had a limp, but he could finally walk on his own again, if only for a little while.

“Good,” Katara said. “I can heal you again if anything starts hurting badly, but you mostly need lots of rest.”

He met her gaze gingerly. He didn’t want to say it, but he felt like he had to. “Thank you,” he murmured, the words grating his throat as they left his lips.

The girl smiled and nodded. Toph pounded her foot into the ground, making the tent collapse around them and sink back into the earth, startling Zuko tremendously.

“I’m hungry too now,” she announced, lifting their campfire off the ground and placing it in the center of their group with earthbending. She snatched the bag of berries from Aang and gobbled down the rest. “Iroh, would you mind making us some more of that jasmine tea?”

Iroh beamed. “Yes! Of course!” He ran and grabbed his pot and the leaves. “Tea always tastes better when it is brewed and shared with others.”

While Zuko watched his uncle enter his tea-making trance, Toph grabbed the honey plum from his hand and shoved it in his mouth, making the firebender grunt in muffled surprise. “Eat, Princey,” she snapped. “Food doesn’t last long around here. Take what you can get before someone else horks it down.”

Zuko pulled the plum out of his mouth and chewed sourly. He hadn’t realized just how tiny the earthbender was until now, when he was standing over her, practically craning his neck to look her in the eye.

And suddenly, everyone was settling down around the fire, taking and eating and acting like this whole bizarre situation was perfectly normal. At least he wasn’t the center of attention anymore, though it felt like he should be; they were being far too trusting, letting him stand so close so freely now that he had some of his strength back. He swept his gaze around the circle with a puzzled frown. Hesitantly, Zuko sat among them, listening to the criss-crossing conversations as he finished off the honey plum and started in on the bread.

“When do we start my earthbending training?”

“You sure you’re ready, Twinkle Toes? Being an earthbender takes guts and grit like you’ve never seen.”

“Definitely!”

“Pass me some of that sun melon, Sokka. Momo’s getting fussy.”

“Sure. Here, Zuko—have some too.”

Sokka casually handed Zuko a slice before giving the rest to Katara. Zuko took it reluctantly, gave it a sniff, then munched on the fruit, glancing warily between the others, feeling odd and out of place, like an unacknowledged elephant rhino in the room.

But also...strangely content.

As he tended to the tea, Iroh watched his nephew with a small smile. He wished Zuko could see how well he fit with these kids rather than in a toxic palace in the Fire Nation capital. He wished he could see how relaxed he looked here versus how tense he was beneath the scrutinizing gazes of Azula and his father. He wished he could stay with them, reject the false path Ozai had set him on, and find his own destiny with these kind, goofy children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You must leave tonight—all of you.”

The four friends stood before the old man in disbelief, the setting sun reflecting in their wide eyes. Behind them, Zuko slept by the fire, his back rising and falling steadily.

“Leave?” Aang said, blinking. “What for?”

“What’s going on?” Toph asked.

Iroh bowed his head, his voice grim. “Now that he is getting better, there’s a possibility my nephew may try to pull something unfavorable against you and your friends. I want you all gone before he gets the chance.”

Katara took a step back, her eyes clouding over with rage. “What? Did he tell you he was planning something?”

“No,” Iroh insisted. “He hasn’t mentioned anything like that.” A grimace gnarled his features. “But I know my nephew. He needs more time before he is ready to fully realize his destiny. He is still extremely lost, hurt, and confused, and I do not want any of you to suffer because of it.” He sighed softly. “I don’t believe he will try anything, but...I’m not willing to risk it. Not after everything you’ve done for us.”

Sokka eyed Zuko’s slumbering form, then turned back to Iroh. “So...we should just...go? Right now?”

The old man nodded somberly. “I think that would be best.”

“But what if he needs more healing sessions?” Katara asked. “He’s still really weak.”

“I can take care of him,” Iroh said, his expression softening. “I’ve done it before. I am more than capable of doing it again.”

Toph shifted her weight between her feet. “He’ll be upset when he finds out we’re gone.”

Perhaps in more ways than one, she considered. They had only just begun to peel back the layers of the person they knew as Zuko, peering into the heart of the troubled but not entirely unsalvageable individual he was. Leaving now felt like dumping all of that progress down the drain, reverting back to their old shtick of pursuer and prey. Oddly enough, it almost felt...treacherous.

The old man hinted a smile. “He will be okay. Do not worry yourselves for my nephew’s sake. You have all already helped both of us more than we deserve.” He bowed respectfully, his hands clasped inside his sleeves. “Good luck on your journey, young avatar. May the spirits guide you and your friends. I sincerely hope we meet again soon, under more desirable circumstances.”

Aang hesitated for a moment before bowing back. He didn’t know how Zuko would react if they told him beforehand that they were leaving. Probably not favorably. Still, it felt strange, abandoning the two of them without a proper goodbye.

“I hope so too,” he said. He raised his head and met Iroh’s gaze. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Iroh glanced over his shoulder. “I’m lucky to have him, too,” he said. Icy sadness tugged at his chest. He fought not to let it bleed across his face.

“Keep trying to, I don’t know, ‘lead him into the light’ or whatever.” Sokka shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I have way more faith in him than I do Azula.”

The old man shuddered. “Me too,” he breathed.

Katara stared at her feet. “I hope...he changes,” she managed to say, looking awkward and conflicted.

Iroh nodded once, his expression warm. “He will,” he said. Then he exhaled slowly. “Go. I wish each of you the best this world has to offer.”

The four kids smiled sullenly, then dispersed to pack their things. They left on Appa thirty minutes later, the two firebenders shrinking smaller and smaller before vanishing behind the horizon, a collective ache hanging over them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You let them go?”

Iroh sat by the edge of the river, legs crossed with a cup of tea in his hand. Zuko stood over him, boiling with anger.

“I did not ‘let them go,’ Iroh assured him, breathing in the dewey morning aromas. “They were here when I went to bed. When I woke up, they were gone.”

It wasn’t lying, technically. Just strategic withholding of information. Zuko groaned in frustration.

“I can’t believe this!” he yelled, stomping in circles. “Why would they just leave like that?”

Uncle sipped his tea calmly. “Why wouldn’t they? They healed you, fed you, gave you a place to sleep. Now that you are doing better, there was no reason for them to stick around.”

Zuko buried his face in his hands. “The avatar was sleeping right next to us! We could’ve captured him and dragged him off without any of them noticing!”

“Another valid reason for them to leave,” Iroh pointed out. “I’m sure they feared you would try something like that, even after they saved your life.” He sighed contently. “We’re lucky they simply left us in peace, rather than taking us prisoner.”

He hated how well his uncle was taking all of this—and how accurate all of his rebuttals were. Zuko kicked a pine cone into the river.

“It could take weeks to track them down again! Ugh!” He sunk to the ground, griping and grumbling incoherently.

“I am surprised you are so shocked that they left,” Iroh said, raising an eyebrow. “We are still their enemies, after all. They never had an obligation to help us in the first place. What reason would they have to stay with us after they healed you?”

To be honest, Zuko wasn’t sure why he was so stunned by it, either. Of course they had left. That was the smart thing to do. If he were in their position, he wouldn’t have stayed, either. Now that he could walk, he was capable of committing all kinds of malicious crimes against them—as he’d done many, many times in the past.

But the weird thing was, he hadn’t planned to do anything like that.

At first, sure, maybe. When he was hurting all over and seething with anger and resentment. But after speaking with each of them, forming those little connections he never thought possible, things had changed. His usual appetite for causing them pain had gradually dwindled away. Capturing the avatar and hauling him back to his father was starting to sound more like an unsavory obligation rather than something he actually wanted to do.

He was still mad at them for that mortifying stunt they pulled in the tent yesterday, but not in the way he expected. It was beginning to feel more like a “you got me, now I’ve got to get you back” kind of mad—the innocent, playful kind he and Azula had for each other whenever they pranked one another as kids. Now, he would never get the chance.

“I guess there is no reason,” Zuko admitted bitterly, hugging his knees. “I’m just...frustrated.”

“It’s okay to be angry,” Uncle said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But it’s important that you recognize why you’re angry, because I don’t think the reason is what you believe it to be.”

Zuko eyed him suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

Uncle’s hand moved to his back, steadying him in the comforting way it had done a thousand times. “Why are you upset they left, Prince Zuko?”

The young firebender frowned. He didn’t know why Uncle was asking him this—the answer was obvious.

“Because now I have to find them again to capture the avatar,” he said, although it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Iroh hummed thoughtfully. “That’s it? No other reason?”

“What other reason would there be?” Zuko shot back.

Uncle stirred his tea, the spoon clinking against the sides of the cup. “They were kind to you. Rather than ignoring you or berating you, they chose to interact with you in a warm, friendly manner. They didn’t treat you like a dangerous Fire Nation soldier; they saw you as a person who needed their help. They are all very good people.”

Zuko scoffed. “They were not kind to me. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have rarely ever been around kids your age outside of the Fire Nation—especially ones that care so openly about one another.” He sipped his drink and stared across the river. “You fit in well among them.”

“What are you trying to say?” Zuko snapped, feeling hot and nervous and furious all at once. “That I miss them? That I want to be friends with the avatar and his obnoxious cronies? You’re insane, Uncle. I—I hate them! They’re the most insufferable people in the entire world! And my enemies!”

Iroh didn’t react to his tirade. He simply laid his hand on his nephew’s head, scratching at his short, fuzzy hair. Zuko went stiff, startled by the affectionate contact, debating whether or not to jerk away. He hated to admit it, but it felt...nice.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to befriend good people, regardless of your past or theirs. Not everything is as rigid and definite as you might think.”

Zuko blinked. His entrails felt like a bundle of knots. His throat grew sore and tight. The ache inside him was sickening familiar, and he hated himself for feeling it in this situation. He tried to will it away, to loathe it out of existence. But it was there, cold and stinging.

The pain of being left.

He hadn’t had a head of hair to pet since he was thirteen. All Zuko wanted was to lean into Uncle’s touch and let him scratch his scalp forever. Instead, he ducked out of Iroh’s reach, clambering to his feet.

“You’ve officially lost your mind,” he growled, running his fingers through his hair irritably. Uncle stood by his side, a somber smile on his face. His nephew’s walls held strong, but they were weakening every day. He still needed more time, more patience, but the old man had hope.

“Come, Prince Zuko,” he said. “Now that you’re feeling better, it is time to resume your firebending training.”

Zuko turned to face him, his scowl melting into a look of excitement. “Wait—really?”

Iroh nodded. “It is time you moved on to the advanced set, and learned how to defend yourself against people like Azula.” He assumed a steady stance and pointed two fingers toward the sky. “Do this motion with me.”

The prince stepped in front of him and mirrored his movements. He still couldn’t fully extend his left arm, but he tried his best to copy Uncle’s form. “What are you going to show me?” he asked eagerly.

Iroh grinned. “A firebending technique that I developed by studying waterbenders, one that neither Azula, Ozai, or any other firebender except me can do.” His eyes twinkled defiantly. “How to redirect lightning.”

#zuko #iroh #atla #ticklish!zuko #ticklish zuko #sfw tickle fic #sfw tickling #Avatar The Last Airbender #gaang #zuko fic #lee!zuko #atla fic #atla tickle fic #atla tickling

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lalahbug · 4 years

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Guidance - Zuko x Reader Chapter 2

Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender Word Count: 5,5 My Masterlist Warnings/disclaim: general Characters are aged up Refer to first chapter for information on timeline ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting. Story under cut, 2 of 8: Guidance Masterlist

Rustling sounds again woke Zuko, as he cracked his eyes open, he could see ___ up and ready for the day, carrying in the large pots of salt inside the tent. He sat up and eyed her a bit, she looked fine, but he was still concerned about her from last night. “Morning, I just have one more basin then we can try to camouflage the tent and head out. I’ve already got the ostrich-horse packed up too.” “Okay,” he stood up and stared at her for a bit. “What’s wrong?” “What happened last night?” “Walking in town takes a couple of hours, which should be shortened with riding. But I’ll tell you everything on the way there, okay?” Zuko mumbled an okay out before helping with everything to get them on to the road.

Riding silently, ___ sat in front of Zuko as they rode towards town. The ostrich-horse was going slower due to all the weight and packing he had on him. “So?” Zuko asked as the silence went on too long for his liking when he wanted answers. “Well, um, I’m not sure where to begin,” she hummed while thinking. “Oh, I guess how I learned everything would be a good start.” “So, the beginning, which is usually a good place to start any story,” Zuko grumbled. “Oh shush,” she pushed him a bit jokingly away with a laugh before clearing her throat a bit. “After leaving home, as the angry young teenager I was, I was struggling badly just within a few days. On land seemed even harder. But I was in the Earth Kingdom when an older couple saw I was near starvation and took me in. The old lady taught me cooking, some edible plants, and how to mend things. The man taught me some tracking and repair. I was with them for a month or so. They helped a lot of people who passed through, they’re great people, when I’m near them I usually go see them, check on them. “While we were eating dinner one night, they had another traveler there. Who was looking for a lost library, in the desert. I was very interested so when the traveler left, I went with him. I don’t remember him much; we didn’t talk about anything other than the library. We stopped at an oasis, which wasn’t really an oasis anymore, and when he went inside to get a drink. I saw a fox, known for gathering things for the library. I followed it immediately. “Somehow I kept up even in the sand. The fox went into a tower that stuck out of the sand. I climbed up and in, and when I landed. I was confronted by Wan Shi Tong, the spirit who runs the library. He told me I wasn’t welcome and that I needed to leave. Being the emotional child, I was after everything that happened. I broke down crying. Wan Shi Tong asked me what was wrong, I told him everything. I told him all that I wanted was to learn, I wanted to be like the old people who helped me. I wanted to know how to protect myself and live on my own. “Wan Shi Tong explained to me that humans, in general, were not welcome, because they abused the knowledge in his library, but since he felt I was sincere, he let me stay. I think he either took pity or a liking to me, as he gave me food and water. I stayed there for almost a year. I ate, read, practiced some waterbending and chi blocking, and slept, that’s all I did for that year. Before I left, I started to learn more about the spirit world from texts and Wan Shi Tong, I had become very spiritual. Meditating became a part of my life at that point. Which I’m sure you’ve seen me do from time to time.” ___ stopped talking and took a drink of water. “So that’s why you know so much, you’ve very cultivated. But that doesn’t explain last night.” “Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “I made my way out of the desert and into Earth Nation forest. Putting all my reading and knowledge into practice, living on my own. Some Fire Nation soldiers had found me, I used the opportunity to do chi blocking, thankfully I was good at it. I ran away after they were all down. While getting as much distance as I could between me and the soldiers. I slugged through a wide river which the full moon shined down on, I slipped in the water, cutting my hand as I caught myself. I went to heal the cut, but the water around me glowed. “I was pulled under the water, but I could breathe, so I tried to not panic and closed my eyes. When I could no longer feel the water around me, I opened my eyes. It took me a while to figure it out, but I was in the spirit world. After reading and learning about the spirit world I was weary and quiet, scared to anger any spirit or run into malicious ones. “Eventually, Avatar Roku found me. We talked for a long time. About the war, my future, and why I was there. With me finding passion in spirits and with the path my life was to follow, the spirit world accepted me. In short, I will be helping Avatar Aang, spiritually. Aang will face a deafening defeat, I am supposed to help him reconnect his chakras.” “He also mentioned, I would be faced with a challenging choice, to forgive someone or not. But knowing myself and how I am. I will offer the second chance." "But why?" "Do you have things you regret? Do you wonder how different your life would be if someone gave you another try, to right your wrongs? I do, I regret leaving my home in anger. I wonder how I would be if they let me come home when I cried for forgiveness and apologized for my ways. That I was no longer angry and I missed my home, my people. But they didn't care, I was unwanted there. So, I don't belong anywhere, but if I follow my path. One day, maybe I will be able to be myself and still be loved. What more could you ask for but freedom to be who you are?" "But you're not a bad person, you should be able to be yourself." She scoffed, "the moment I show that I'm a strong fighter and independent. I show I can't be an obedient timid wife that most people think I should be." "I think it's better that you can protect yourself. I think it's a good thing." "Well, you'd be the first. Thank you." She turned a bit to give him a heartfelt smile, making him look away as he blushed. She giggled at it. "What?" He spat. "You're cute, Zuko." "So are you, ___," now it was her turn to turn away with blush, making him chuckle. After some thinking and silence, Zuko spoke up. "I don't know if I regret speaking out against my father's plan. It felt wrong to sacrifice so many men. I do wish my father would have given me another chance though, I guess him sending me after the Avatar was his way to do that. So I can regain my honor." "I've said it once and I'll say it forever. You were a child, what your father did was wrong. You aren't a failure, you're better than him and nothing like him. He can’t strip you of your honor, it is what you hold and how you follow your life, your destiny." Zuko grunted he didn't like it when she said that, it hurt, like his heart was being split in half. As if it was starting a war within him. “Zuko,” she started in a soft tone, ”if your father loved you. Avatar or not, you would be home. You wouldn’t be wanted, dead or alive, you’d be wanted at least alive. Be your own person, I believe your destiny will be putting balance to the world your forefathers have destroyed.” “I don’t want to talk about this, you don’t know me, my family! You can’t just say shit and think I’ll follow the words like a lost goatdog! I am my own person!” “Then why are you here?” She turned to look at him, serious and hard. Zuko gulped a bit for her cold glare. “If you're your own person then why do you care so much about pleasing an abusive father? What false love and honor could restore you when you can't even be truthful to yourself? You don’t want my advice, don’t take it. But don’t snap at me either, boy.” She spat the word boy at him before jumping off the animal. She stood tall and proud, even though small in stature, she reigned power around her. “I want an apology or you can give me stuff and git!” Zuko looked down at the reins in his hands, even though he hadn’t stopped the ostrich-horse, it stopped from her words. He was shaking, he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness. But he knew she was only trying to help, that’s all she’s done for him. Never asking for anything in return other than assistance with chores. “Zuko!” He snapped his head towards the sound of his name, seeing her face go from stern to soft. ___ climbed up onto the animal and gently wiped away tears he didn’t even know were falling. “I know you’re lost; I know you’re confused. But do not talk down to me, okay?” Her voice was so gentle and warm, he didn’t know what to do. Embracing her urgently and lying his head on her shoulder, she stiffened for a moment before pulling him closer and rubbing his back softly. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed into her shoulder. “Oh, sweetie.” ___ pulled him back from her shoulder and wiped his tears away carefully. “I’m sorry I snapped. I guess I still need to work on my anger a bit. We both do. Let’s do it together, okay?” He nodded before pulling her back to him, he could barely make sense of how good it felt to hold her. He felt whole, safe, and tranquil. “Can you stay here, in my arms for a bit?” His request was barely above a whisper. She exhaled sharply, a small laugh, “only if we keep moving.” She adjusted herself to sit sideways then rested her head and body into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her before flicking the reins to send them back into motion. “___?” “Yes?” “I want to help you in town.” “That’s the plan, for you to help and learn.” “Not just that, but with that guy, so he doesn’t bother you.” “Oh, no, I don’t want any fighting okay?” “What if I pretended to be your boyfriend? Would he leave you alone?” “Um,” she flushed a bit before clearing her throat. “I guess. But it wouldn’t be just him, it’d have to be the whole town. It’s a small town, people talk, they’d be able to tell if we lied. It's exhausting to pretend and put on a façade all the time.” “But don’t you do that already? Pretend to be timid and gentle.” “Yes, that’s why I know it’s exhausting. I can show I'm a hard worker but I can’t show I’ve got my own mind and how hard-headed I am.” “But you never pretend to be caring and nice.” “I just try to do what feels natural while I bite my tongue.” “I pretend to be a traveler with bad manners.” “I don’t think you pretend too much on the bad manners.” She giggled, Zuko grumbled. “Thank you for the offer, but I couldn’t put you in that position. Also, I would be questioned all the time once you leave.” Zuko was wordless and lost, his heart was pounding at the thought of leaving her. “Are you okay?” ___ asked with her head still on his chest. “Your heart is beating so fast.” He rubbed the back of his neck, dropping the rein and clearing his throat into his fist a bit. “I’m fine. ___?” “Hhm?” she hummed. “I like you.” “I like you too.” “No, I mean, I really like you. I wanted to show I could be a good boyfriend, that’s why I offered to be a pretend boyfriend. To prove it to you.” “Zuko,” she lifted her head and smiled at him gently. “You don’t need to prove it to me right away. Just show me over time.” ___ gently touched his cheek. “Will you be my boyfriend?” Zuko blushed light at her words, but nodded. “Have you been with anyone else?” he wanted to know if she had past relations but didn't know how to phrase it otherwise. “Yes, I've had one boyfriend before. It was 2 years ago. We hit a path in our relationship where we weren't communicating honesty and the base of our relationship that was on common ground dissipated. We were decent friends before and the relationship was mainly physical. It had nothing to do with destiny but who we were.” “What’s our common ground?” “We’ll find it, for now, we can be caring for each other.” “Okay,” Zuko mumbled, ___ sat up a bit more to look at him more clearly. Golden eyes quickly caught hers. Moments ticked by as talons trudged the dirt path, their bodies moved closer together. ___ closed her eyes leaning closer to Zuko, he felt panic, fear, and jealousy. What was her ex like? Zuko was inexperienced, could he please her at all? “Zuko?” She looked at him concerned. “Sweetie, what's wrong?” He looked away but didn't answer. “I'm not sure what's wrong, but if it was me, I'm sorry. We just became partners and I go and assume and rush things.” She settled against him and put her head on his shoulder. “I'll wait for you, do what feels natural to you, don't force anything.” Zuko wanted to kick and burn himself. His insecurities made her feel like she did something wrong. He wanted to kiss her, but his fears held him back.

Silence was awkward for a bit but as they cuddled and rested against one another, it became comfortable. “We’re here,” ___ sat up a bit pulling away from Zuko and stretching her arms. Zuko wrapped an arm around her waist when she was done and pulled her back to him. She smiled at him. They reached a store where they could hitch the animal. Zuko jumped down and immediately offered to help ___ down into his arms. She glanced down at him, before looking over to another guy and smiled at Zuko. “Catch me, Lee!” she giggled and jumped into his arms. He chuckled and hugged her close before resting his forehead against hers. “Hey ___, where have you been?” She pulled away from Zuko a bit. “Oh, hey Kyo. I was just living off the land. But I’m here now to help and sell.” “That’s good, I think my dad needs me to do a delivery but since my mom’s sick, he needs help with the store.” Kyo was talking level but kept glancing at Zuko. “Oh no, I’ll look at her, see if I can heal her at all. If not, if your delivery doesn’t take too long, I or Lee can help your dad.” “I’m guessing your Lee,” Kyo looked fully at Zuko now. “I’m Kyo.” He offered a hand to shake hands, when Zuko went to shake hands, Kyo tried to crush his hand, thankfully Zuko was strong enough for it to not work. “Yup, Lee here.” ___ snorted slightly at his awkwardness. “How’d you meet ___?” “Wandering through the forest, smelt food. She fed me and I’ve been with her since.” “Oh, so your good friends?” “No, I’m her boyfriend,” Zuko deadpanned and wrapped an arm around her tightly. “Oh, she didn’t turn you down?” “No, because I’m here to support her, as needed because she’s strong without me.” Kyo just stared at Zuko for a moment, “how are prices on baskets today?” ___ chirped. "___, for your baskets, always good,” a hearty laugh came from the store, Kyo’s father, Rin came out. “I need more watertight ones. You’re my best supplier for those!” “Well you’re in luck, I have a surplus, I was teaching Lee so I ended up with tons. They’re all flatten, so check them and if there are any breaks, I’ll fix it!” She gestured to a pile on the back of the ostrich-horse. “Perfect, welcome back!” Rin laughed and picked up the pile and went into the store, she followed after him so they could settle on prices. “Lee, can you unpack Gray?” “Gray?” “The ostrich-horse,” she piped. “You named him without my say?” “You just called him animal, that’s not nice,” she giggled as she went into the store. Zuko groaned before going to Gray and starting to unpack him so he could rest. “You’re just going to let her boss you around? That’s not how a woman should be.” Kyo stated. “She asked me, we’re partners, we help each other, that’s what lovers should do. I’d rather she could protect herself and maybe even help me in a fight, then be someone I’d have to worry about even more than normal. I worry about her, but, because I know she can protect herself, I don’t have to protect her and myself unless necessary.” Zuko ranted this out a bit, while unpacking, he could see what ___ meant by Kyo being a bother. He seemed to have a knack for being under one's skin. “She’s a woman, she needs a man’s protection.” “She needs someone who understands her and supports her. Woman or not, she’s her own person. She should be free to be herself!” Zuko shouted at him. “___ is my girlfriend; I ask you to leave your sexist ideas and respect her or leave her alone!” “Lee!” ___ called out to him. “I told you no fighting,” she ran up and held his hands. “Zuko, calm down, your hands are so hot, don’t firebend here.” She whispered to him. Kyo laughed, “she really does boss you around don’t she?” ___ gave him an annoyed grunt, before turning on her heel and quickly jabbing Kyo, making him fall to the ground. “That’s enough out of you!” “Kyo, I thought I taught you to pick your battles, not to pick on others, you’re in big trouble young man!” Rin yelled at Kyo while trying to pick him up. “Get your butt inside!” “He can’t move.” She stated simply. “But if he apologizes to me and Lee, I’ll heal him.” “Never, you got a cheap shot.” “Fine, lie there and if you want, later I’ll do it again and again. Until you get it through your thick head, I don’t like you any more than a friend. That I’m not some weak woman, and I will not be pushed around and bite my tongue around you anymore.” She turned to pick up a basin and handed it to Rin. “Here are some cured meats.” “Thank you for putting up with my son and still being nice to us.” “I let it happen, I pretended to be someone I’m not. Lee and I had a talk about it on the way here, and it stuck to me. If I’m not accepted then I’ll just move on. But I want to be myself more often.” “That's a good thing to follow.” Rin smiled at her, Zuko put his arm around her shoulders. “Well this will be his punishment; he can stay there until the chi flows again.” “What?!” Kyo yelled. “You lie there and think about your actions. If you shape up, I won’t tell your mom, otherwise, I will. If she gets wind of this, you’ll regret it,” Kyo groaned at his father’s words. “How is Fay, Kyo did mention she’s sick?” ___ asked. “She could be better; she has a fever that won’t break. Medicine isn’t working and I can’t take her into the city, it’s too far.” “Let me finish my trading and sell, let the Long's know I’m here and will need their extra room and I’ll be back to check on her.” “Thank you,” Rin gave her a relieved smile. “We’ll be back soon,” ___ picked up her backpack and the goods she needed. “Can we leave Gray here? When we come back to check on Fay, we’ll ride him to the Long's.” “Yes, of course.” ___ thanked Rin and headed into town selling and trading for supplies. Zuko stayed close by, listening, and learning. Even though he planned to stay with her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn so he could help in the future. Entering the last shop of the row of stores an elderly woman lit up at the sight of the young women. “___, my dear!” “Himari, you ready to trade and buy?” The old woman embraced ___ tightly before smiling and nodding in response. “Oh, who is this?” “This is my boyfriend, Lee,” ___ grabbed his hand gently and he intertwined their fingers. “How wonderful,” she beamed at the young couple. “Okay, enough pleasantries, show me what you got!” The women talked and bartered for about an hour or so over multiple beautiful items. “Alright, you win, but I want two pearls!” ___ huffed in defeat over their bargaining. “I have oysters outback, unopened. You can have 5, if you get them yourself.” ___ thanked Himari before heading outside to get her oysters. “Lee was it?” Himari asked Zuko once ___ was gone. He nodded gently. “Good, now come here,” she gestured to the stool ___ had been in. Zuko raised his eyebrow in question before doing so. “___ loves flowers, but her favorite,” she paused while pulling out a box. “Are sunflowers.” Opening the box allowed Zuko to see a beautiful pendant, shaped and colored as a sunflower, but a crescent moon covered some petals. “This was very expensive, I've tried selling it to ___, she loves it but can't justify spending the money on it. She's water tribe and a pendant like this would make a beautiful betrothal necklace.” Zuko eyed it. He'd seen one before, the one he used to track the Avatar through Katara’s necklace. “I don't have any money, ___ found me at my worst,” he looked away. “Answer me this. If you did have the means to get this necklace to one day propose to ___, would you?” “I’m not sure,” he furrowed his brow. “We haven't been together long, but I don't plan on leaving her at all. If she were to keep me, I might ask her to marry me one day…” he trailed off. “I have a lot of work I need to be done around here, hard labor, easy for a young and strong firebender.” “I’m not-" “You can’t lie and trick me boy, I’m too old for my own good. If you want this pendant, show up tomorrow to help me and the rest of the days you’re here with ___.” He gave her a nod as ___ walked in. “Himari, what are you plotting?” ___ asked, seeing the two sitting closer together than she left them. “I’m a frail old woman, I was recruiting your boyfriend for some help,” she smiled softly at the young couple. “Okay, but don't work him too hard, he has to help me with somethings around town.” “You can have him back by noon each day. So you two can eat together then work together.” ___ agreed and bid Himari a farewell. Zuko followed suit with a bow and followed his girlfriend outside. They walked hand in hand, Zuko wore her backpack, since she had it all afternoon. Their walk wasn’t too long until the sounds of animals could be heard. “The Long’s, Yuto and Akari, own a farm, tons of animals, super fresh produce. But the oldest son moved out, so they need help from time to time. We’ll get to stay here for free, as long as we help with chores before dinner. The youngest son plans to stay and take over the farm, but he’s only 14, not strong enough for everything to be done in one day.” “So, the three of them run the farm by themselves?” “Yeah, it’s getting harder on Yuto though as he gets older. When I’m here, it gives him a bit of a break, or a chance to do repairs he didn’t have time for before.” “That’s why it’s free because you give them room to breathe after the son left.” “A farm can be run by two people as long as they are in good health and know what they’re doing. But as I said, Yuto is older and his health has been in decline for about 6 months.” “What will happen if he can’t keep up?” “Either Reo gets better or they’ll have to sell off some animals so it’s not too overbearing. They have the biggest farm I’ve seen.” Zuko hummed in response as they saw a well-built teenager run up with a big smile on his face. “___! We’ve missed you!” Reo hugged her and Zuko tightly. “You finally hit puberty!” ___ laughed. “Yeah! Now I can do most of the work on my own, I just need to get faster.” “That’s great to hear!” “Come on, my folks will be super happy to see you and your boyfriend!” ___ laughed softly and followed the happy Reo into the home. Once inside she and Zuko were warmly welcomed and somehow talked for hours with the older couple. Mainly about chores on the farm and how happy they were to meet Zuko, or Lee. “It’s so nice to be back, but I need to go check on Fay and to bring back our ostrich-horse.” “Oh, take some soup with you for Fay, drop off your bag in the room before you go too!” Akari said before heading to the kitchen.

Up in the room Zuko set down her backpack and looked around the room. It was small, a dresser, and a decent size bed. He turned around to see ___ taking out a sleeping bag. “Does it get cold in here?” “No, the blankets on the bed are pretty warm.” “Then why the sleeping bag?” “For me, it's probably been a while since you've had the opportunity to sleep in a bed. I thought you’d like some comfort.” She stated calmly. “So, you plan to sleep on the ground?” “The sleeping bag is pretty comfortable.” Zuko stared at her confused for a moment until he remembered when they were about to kiss. She was letting him make the shots and decisions on the pace of their relationship. She didn't want to pressure or rush him. To do what feels natural. It felt natural to hold her close, hug her. But he didn't know how his own body would react, lying down with her in the dark. ___ was in front of him giving him the most understanding look he'd ever seen. “Zuko, we just started dating, there is no reason to do anything other than enjoy each other's company. Don't overthink, just do, okay? I'm going to Fay; would you like to come with or relax?” The moment the word relax came out of her mouth, he could feel how tired he was. “I think I'd like to lie down.” “I won't be long.” She gently squeezed his hand before leaving the room. He could hear her thanking Akari for the soup then her departure.

He turned to the bed about to lie down, before stopping and looking over his shoulder at the sleeping bag on the other side of the room. He at least wanted her closer if not in his arms. He moved the bag closer to the bed and put one of the pillows from the bed at the top of the sleeping bag. He eyed it a bit longer before lying down in the bed, soon he could feel himself drift into the comfort of sleep.

Zuko jolted out of bed in a cold sweat, gasping, he couldn’t remember the nightmare but it still made him tremble. “Zuko?” ___ whispered while sitting up from her bag next to the bed. “Are you okay, sweetie?” She rubbed her eye gently before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re sweating so much. Was it a nightmare?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember,” he whispered before pulling her into a hug, pushing her head into his chest. “Your heart is so fast, whatever it was, it scared you bad,” she murmured before yawning. “I’m sorry I woke you.” “It’s not your fault. Let’s just go back to sleep, if you can.” She tried to pull away from him, but he secured her to him. “Don’t leave me,” he begged tenderly. “I won’t,” she pulled away slowly before adjusting herself fully on the bed and resting her head just under his clavicle, Zuko wrapped an arm around her. He lied back softly, keeping her with him. “When I hold you, it’s like nothing can go wrong. But I’m worried, I’ll disappoint you. I’m not experienced in anything that’s not fighting. I barely know who I am anymore, how can I be any good for you at all?” “Can you hold and eventually love me?” “I think so.” “Then that’s all I ask of you. As you said, you barely know who you are. I want to support you along that journey. You’re my beautiful prince, now and always. I’m here for you, through the thick and the thin.” Zuko was blushing at her words and cleared his throat a bit. “Zuko, I’ll wait for you and you don’t need to respond, just listen. I love you; I know I haven't known you long, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fall from you the moment you gagged while gutting a fish but continued without any word of complaint. I just wanted you to know, even though you’re going through a lot, you are loved.” Zuko could feel his heart pounding at her words, his eyes watered threatening to fall. He didn’t realize how starved he was for this affection, for those 3 simple words. Words he hasn’t heard since his mother disappeared. He adjusted their bodies to their sides, face to face. For some reason he was shocked to see so much of her blush, it was endearing. She only showed small amounts of blush here and there, but now, he could feel the heat coming off of her. Zuko took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind before speaking, as he opened his mouth, ___ timidly pressed her fingertips against his lips. “I told you, you don’t need to respond. I just wanted you to know,” Zuko gave her an annoyed grunt before removing her hand and quickly pressing his lips against hers. The intensity that stung his body could be mistaken for fire, but the passion and love he felt easily chased the fire. And he wanted more. Gripping their bodies together he let go of all the fears he had bottled. ___ kissed him back fervently, even though she was trying to hold back, he compressed them together, and started to turn his head, their first kiss turned into many. ___ tried to push back, wanting to stop before she became too heated. But Zuko rolled on top of her slightly, the pressure made her moan and the sound revoked him. The guttural noise that escaped his throat, shocked even him. But even more jarring was her reaction, she pressed up against him making him gasp as she rubbed against his lower half. She used the advantage to claim his mouth with her tongue, making him moan. He tried to fight for dominance, but the way she made him feel, just felt too good. Finally, she pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. The heat they created was almost smothering as they both panted softly. “I love you too, ___.” ___ pulled back with shock and tears in her eyes, to stare at him. “What?” He asked, a bit hurt and annoyed. She kissed him perfervidly, but the softness behind it almost melted his heart. She pulled away what seemed all too soon for him. “I just haven’t heard those words in a long time. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to hear them. My parents were the last people to say that to me, but this is a different love and it feels so stupendous.” She smiled at him, his smile the heartfelt one she always saved for him. She closed her eyes and yawned, pushing Zuko back a bit before cuddling and curling into his chest. He held her, closed his eyes too. He felt both of their hearts beating, although out of sync, the same love blossomed in both.

#fanfic #fanficition #avatar the last airbender #zuko avatar #zuko x reader #zuko/reader #atla #atla fic #guidance series #lalahbug #zuko fic #fic #lalah writes #reader insert #xreader #self insert #fire lord zuko #firelord zuko

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randomfandomimagine · 4 years

Text

Reunion (Cloud Strife x Reader)

Characters: Cloud Strife, Zack Fair, Tifa Lockhart (feat. Jessie, Biggs, Wedge and others)

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Tags: Reunions, crossdressing, angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Mentions of death, spoilers for Crisis Core

Word Count: 4k words

Requested by anon: could you do a ficlet with a fem! reader for a Platonic!Cloud? my idea is where the reader was in SOLDIER (disguised as a guy) and when Hojo found out they kicked you out (quite violently). You were really close with Cloud and Zack, but once you were gone they thought they killed you. In other words I just want an angsty sweet reunion when he finds you working for avalanche back at the Seventh Heaven. (Points if you’re close with Tifa too). Thank you! I love your work so much! Ur a blessing ♡

A/N: I have never beat the original FFVII and I’m not sure what happens in canon with Cloud’s memories, so I took some artistic liberties to write this. Hope you enjoy!! Please please please give this some love, I worked so hard on it!!

Cloud Strife x Female Reader

[ B/N: Boy Name ]

Many terrors haunted Cloud. There were too many things he had lost, too many people he missed and too many burdens he carried. However, no matter how much he tried to forget them all or how tangled his mind was, one seemed to stand out: you. He had befriended you during his SOLDIER days, an unlikely friend in a strange place.

He vividly remembered you: the way your eyes twinkled when you spotted him, your shy smile and your gentle expression, the playfulness in your voice when you teased him. He thought of you fondly, one of the few things in his past that weren’t tainted by evil. Even then, you had still turned into a bad memory. Your mere existence made him sad because of your early demise. You had only ever been kind and still your fate was cruel and undeserved. Your only crime had been lying, and even that he wouldn’t blame you for. Others, however, found that sin to be unforgivable and punished you for it. With a sentence of death.

“Cloud?” Tifa called his name, bringing him back to reality. “Still with me?”

“Uh… yeah” He straightened up, surprised upon realizing how crestfallen he had made himself with his own thoughts. “Lead the way”

“I’m excited” His friend smiled, leading him to the Seventh Heaven. “We finally get to meet our new member. Everyone has been so secretive about them”

“Why?” Cloud focused on trying to follow the conversation, even if his thoughts pulled him back to the past.

“They’re Avalanche’s secret weapon”

“Hm…”

Tifa, not really catching his disinterest, continued talking.

“Apparently they have some serious military training”

“Uh-huh…”

Her voice became a dull background noise as his thoughts drifted without remedy. Even if she kept speaking, he had stopped listening.

He had dreamt about you again last night, and his mind betrayed him by dwelling on your memory. Inevitably, he drifted off to past thoughts, to his SOLDIER days when everything seemed exciting. He felt insecure and unworthy, but he was willing to improve. He was prepared to work hard and make his way to 1st Class. Zack was constantly by his side, taking Cloud under his wing. You completed the trio, and he couldn’t help but to think back to when he met you.

A tall boy with dark hair and sky blue eyes stood in the training room, crossing his arms and watching how the new recruits finished their exercise. He noticed how one of them struggled more than the rest and was more than happy to give him a little hand.

“Hey, newbie” He walked over to a specific soldier who just then finished with the squats. “Need some help there?”

You shook your head, completely breathless after the exercise, and leaned back on your butt until you were sitting down. Joining SOLDIER had been your dream for a long time, wanting to become strong enough to be able to help people. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, just didn’t imagine it would be this hard and exhausting.

“Come on” He held his hand out for you to take. “We all need help sometimes”

With a sigh, you took his hand in yours and let him pull you up. Once you were standing on your feet, you leaned your hands on your knees. It was hard to catch your breath. Despite how athletic you were, this was on a whole new level.

When you dared to look up at the boy, you found him showing you a wide friendly grin. Beside him now was a blond guy, with kind blue eyes that went along with his meek expression.

“It’s okay” The blond muttered. “It takes a bit to get used to”

You nodded your head, managing a tired smile in appreciation. The other one observed you in a mixture between amusement and sympathy and patted your back.

“You did well for the first day” He told you. “What’s your name?”

“Uh…. B/N” You carefully watched his reaction, and your heart began racing in anticipation.

“B/N? Nice to meet you” Unaware of your nervousness upon introducing yourself, he offered you his hand. “I’m Zack, this is Cloud”

You shook his hand, and waved with the other one at his blond friend. He timidly reciprocated with a small wave.

“Tell you what, kid” Zack put his arm over your shoulders, and you tensed up. “I’ll keep an eye on you and help you out”

An irrational fear took over you, as it was the first time someone got so close to you. Even if you had managed to push your way into SOLDIER without arising any suspicions over yourself, you were afraid they would know. Your secret was far too important to air it out, and it could get you in trouble. Big trouble.

While you appreciated Zack’s offer, you feared his friendship too much. What if he found out who you really were? How would he react? Would he still be friendly if he knew? Would he give you in to the authorities to have you punished for daring to deceive everyone?

“Don’t overwhelm him….” Cloud bashfully defended you, definitely noticing your awkwardness.

“No worries, Cloudy” Zack brushed it off. “B/N here just needs to get out of his shell”

“We…” The other one added. “We can help you train if you want”

“That would be nice” You replied, purposefully making your voice deeper.

“That’s the spirit!” The dark-haired boy chuckled. “And relax, man, you’re so tense!”

You lowered your shoulders, which were almost up to your ears. Still, even if you were trying to act natural you couldn’t relax, you couldn’t stop being tense. Because what would happen if anyone at SOLDIER realized you were a girl?

You nervously tapped your foot against the ground. Although you had joined Avalanche a bit ago and were starting to get used to it, you still got jittery. Even after the mission was over, the nerves still conquered your stomach.

“I swear, Y/N!” Jessie tugged at your hand, making you look at her instead of that far off point that you were staring at without seeing it. “You’re gonna love him!”

“Am I?” You smiled at her, pretending not to be restless still.

That recent mission reminded you too much of SOLDIER. It was ironic that Shinra, the very thing you once were a part of and now were trying to escape, had become what you were fighting against, confronting it head-on. It seemed to haunt you even as you adamantly tried to bring it down.

To make matters worse, Barret had announced to the group that they were calling their mercenary contact for the next mission. You hadn’t been with them long enough to have met him, because in those couple of days you had barely even grown accustomed to their company.

Barret didn’t talk to you more than necessary, even if you could tell he was a big softie, especially when you saw him with his daughter Marlene. Biggs and Wedge had been kind and welcoming while still trying to give you some space. Jessie was the most outspoken, and clearly the one more determined to make you feel at home. It painfully reminded you of someone else whose personality was bubbly and extroverted that you had met in the past.

“For sure!” Her very voice snapped you out of your nervous thoughts again. “Cloud is the best, even if he likes to pretend like he’s a tough guy”

You tried not to wince at the mention of his name. How cruel was it that you ran into someone else called Cloud? A part of you had hoped it was the same Cloud you befriended in SOLDIER, but it just wasn’t possible. He must have become a SOLDIER, 1st Class like he wanted to. Who knew? You might even have fought him with Avalanche without realizing, unaware that his spiky blond hair and kind blue eyes were hidden under one of those helmets.

You shook your head. No. It just so happened that there was another Cloud in Midgard. It was too painful to get your hopes up for a sweet reunion… even if you had daydreamed about it countless times. Cloud and Zack had been so important to you… Fondly looking back at them, you hoped they were doing okay.

Zack’s laughter was contagious, and you couldn’t suppress a smile as you triumphantly stood up and towered over Cloud. Pouting a bit, he averted his gaze and didn’t move from the spot, sitting on the ground and leaning an elbow on his propped up knee.

“And the winner is… B/N!” Zack took your arm and lifted it up. “I knew you had it in you, kid”

Cloud still didn’t speak. His cheeks were a deep shade of pink, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the squats you had beat him at or because of the embarrassment. Maybe both.

“Okay, Zack” You playfully pushed him off you, moving towards Cloud. “Stop torturing him”

“I’m not torturing anyone, he did great” Zack leaned down to pat his friend’s shoulder. “You just did better”

Even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud, a sense of pride bubbled in your chest. Boys were generally stronger than girls, but you had bested one of them after training hard for weeks on end. Still, you felt bad for Cloud and offered him a hand.

“No hard feelings?”

“Sure”

He smiled at you as you pulled him up, wobbling because of all his weight. Zack chuckled as he put his hands on your back to stabilize you.

“Who would have known a skinny guy like you would become such a good SOLDIER?”

The comment might have offended you when you first met him, but you knew Zack meant it as a compliment. After all, you would never forget the day you first met. You had felt helpless and not capable of making it in SOLDIER. You were shorter and smaller, but you didn’t let that stop you. Now you were stronger and resilient, even more so than some of the boys there.

The three of you gasped, startled, when the door to the training room suddenly swung open. In came Sephiroth, Hojo and Lazard, seemingly very angry and determined.

“No…” You uttered, with a nasty feeling in the pit of your stomach. What if…?

No, you had been very careful. It was impossible. You had disguised yourself to the point that not even Cloud and Zack discovered you despite being so close, despite spending so much time together. You had even found a way to avoid Hojo’s tests, knowing he would discover your identity if you got too close. They had no way of finding out… right?

“That’s her” Sephiroth pointed a finger at you, bearing no expression.

“Her?” Zack repeated, taking a step forward. “What’s going on?”

“B/N is an imposter!” Hojo accused, scowling at you. “She is a woman”

“What?” Your friend shook his head at them. “There must be a misunderstanding”

Terrified of what they might do, you took a few steps back. Cloud stood behind you, and you stepped right into him. His hands protectively fell on the small of your back, and when you looked up you found with his gentle blue eyes. They were so expressive. There was confusion in them, but also alarm and concern and fear all at once.

“Get her” Lazard said, and just then two soldiers appeared from behind him.

“No!” You screamed as they approached you. “Please!”

In your panic, you retreated more into Cloud and pressed yourself against his chest. You felt his fingers hold on to the fabric of your shirt.

“No, don’t touch him!” Zack insisted, helplessly watching as the soldiers reached you. “You’re making a mistake!”

You exclaimed as the soldiers reached you and took ahold of you. Cloud didn’t hesitate to hold on to you, tightly grabbing you by the arms. The four of you struggled, but the soldiers were stronger.

“Stop that!” Zack begged them still, wincing at the sight of you.

Tears streamed down your face, knowing what awaited you if they took you. Now screaming, you were calling anyone for help. Cloud was your last hope as you tightly clung on to him, but they separated you from him.

“No!” He joined Zack in his attempts. “Stop it!”

“Lazard, please! I’m sure B/N isn’t-“ The brunette’s words were suddenly interrupted.

“Then what’s this?” Hojo showed them a picture, and everyone grew silent.

It was you in the photo, without a doubt. Before you cut your hair, before you hid your breasts and took all necessary precautions to pass as a boy.

The chaos that had erupted in the room suddenly came to a halt, replaced by a heavy awed atmosphere to replace the previously frantic one.

“What…?” Cloud uttered, watching you in astonishment.

“You’re a girl…” Zack said as well, even though is voice was a mixture of sadness and understanding.

“Don’t just stand there!” Hojo urged the soldiers, who came back to their senses.

“Take her” Lazard insisted when his subordinates turned to him for confirmation.

Shaking from head to toe, you let yourself be grabbed by them. Your mind was racing, frozen with the reminder of your friends faces. They weren’t angry, they didn’t feel betrayed. They were only surprised. You had been too scared to tell them, but now you realized you could have. How could you have doubted them?

“Wait…” Cloud stuttered as tears reached his eyes. “Wait, don’t… don’t hurt her!”

“Sephiroth…” Zack desperately called. “Sephiroth, do something! Don’t let them take her!”

The 1st Class Soldier didn’t say anything. He only turned around as you were dragged away from your friends. Sephiroth glanced down and faced his back to them.

You tensed up when you heard a cry full of rage, followed by Zack throwing himself to them. Cloud made to move, wanting to support his friend, but he was still too taken aback by the situation to act.

Obeying a gesture from Lazard, two more soldiers entered the room and intercepted Zack. He struggled against them, fighting to return by your side and save you.

“Don’t!” You pleaded, letting yourself use your natural voice for the first time in months. “Don’t do this, Zack”

“I don’t care if you’re a boy or a girl, I won’t let them-”

“Let me go” You shook your head, trying to put an end to his endeavor. “Don’t get hurt because of me”

You quickly glanced at Cloud behind him, noticing how his eyes were drowned in tears. He was still frozen in place, prey of an overwhelming shock and uncertainty. The sight made your own tears overflow, staining the track that the old ones left again.

“Take care…” You whispered to him, trying to memorize his face. A last comfort before you met your end.

Cloud parted his lips, but they only shook as no words left them. A tear rolled down his cheek, and it was too painful to keep looking at him. Glancing at Zack, you realized he was now just as heartbroken. He had given up, understood that it was impossible to fight for you.

Accepting your fate, you began moving. You exited the room and heard the door loudly closing behind you. A ruckus broke out inside it as Zack still fought against them. A second person had joined him in his outrage, and you sobbed knowing it was Cloud.

You walked directly behind Sephiroth, who walked beside Hojo and Lazard. As you were taken with them, Sephiroth’s long silver hair and his broad back was etched in your memory. It would be one of the last things you’d see. Just like the voices of your dear friends would be one of the last things you’d hear as they called out for you, by the fake name they knew you by but still begging for your life.

Even if you trusted them, you had been too afraid to completely expose yourself to them. What would have happened if you did? What would have happened if you told them you were a girl? A part of you had always known the answer: they would have protected you. Zack and Cloud cared about you, not because you were a boy or a girl or anything else… they cared about you because they were your friends... because you were their friend.

You hadn’t trusted them with your secret. You had been too afraid to tell them. And know they would have to live with your death.

Everything seemed oddly silent, as if the usual sounds had dimmed slightly. There was the murmur of voices inside the bar, but no loudness. Cloud’s boots seemed to echo as his feet moved over the wooden steps that led to the entrance. Even Tifa, who seemed so talkative, had grown quiet. Cloud brushed that feeling off, assuming it had more to do with his thoughtful mood. Everything was normal.

When he came in, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Barret played with Marlene, Biggs and Wedge talked and laughed, and Jessie was high-fiving someone she was talking to.

“Hello!” Tifa cheerfully greeted everyone, gathering their attention.

You looked up to find out who that mysterious merc was. The sun behind him shadowed his slim figure as well as the curvier one that accompanied him. Mildly curious, you kept your gaze glued to them as they walked in. Once the door closed behind them, your eyes grew used to the light and you could see them properly.

The woman was slightly familiar, but you didn’t pay mind to her as she walked behind the bar. It was the man who you were more interested in. When you took a good look at him, your heart skipped a beat.

That merc, that man allegedly called Cloud, walked in without noticing you. His eyes had fallen on you, but there was no recognition in them. Barret was telling the newcomer something, but you didn’t hear.

Surely, your mind was playing tricks on you, and that man looked more like Cloud to you than he actually did. Of course, it wasn’t him. It was an amazing coincidence that on top of the name he also had spiky blond hair, but that was the only similitude with your memory of Cloud. This man before you was cold and rough, nothing like the sweet, meek and shy boy you knew. His eyes were also greener than you remembered. Still, the more you stared at him, the more you realized… it was Cloud. Despite the change in his demeanor, in his eyes, in the way he carried himself, in his entire persona... it was Cloud, the one you knew years ago. The one whose face you had tried to memorize as you resigned yourself to your death.

Destiny was capricious. You had survived and you had escaped. He had too. And now you were together again. You both had followed similar paths.

“Y/N?” Biggs called you, gently shaking your shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you just got very pale” Wedge’s words seemed to alarm the rest as well.

Everyone turned to you, but you only had eyes for one of them. Your feet moved on their own as you approached Cloud with determination.

“What the hell?” He whispered, frowning as you directly went over to him.

“Cloud” You threw your arms around his neck, feeling too happy and relieved to see him to realize his reaction. “It’s so good to see you!”

“What’s going on?” He spoke up, his voice sounded annoyed as his arms lifted a little trying to avoid touching you. “Do I know you?”

“You…” Slowly pulling away, you stared into his eyes. “You don’t recognize me?”

Cloud hesitated, and so did you. His voice was so… deep, so irritated and so harsh. He really felt nothing like the boy you had known. What had happened? He changed so much…

Your vulnerable expression seemed to snap something in him, because his eyes suddenly grew wide. His mouth fell agape, staring at you as though you were a ghost.

“B/N?” He uttered, recognizing your features despite never having seen you as a girl. Except that one time in that picture, when he thought it would be the last. “You’re alive?”

“B/N, is that really you?” The woman who had walked in with him uttered from behind the bar. It finally clicked why she was so familiar. If that was indeed Cloud, that had to be…

“Tifa!” You ran to each other, colliding in a warm hug accompanied by breathless tearful chuckles.

Despite not being close, you had known Tifa through Cloud and Zack. She had always been kind and friendly and you were so glad to see her, comforted by her familiar face and warm demeanor.

“You look good as a girl” She joked, breaking away to take a good look at you.

“Thanks, I-“ You began to say, but were interrupted by a deep voice.

“B/N” Cloud said, staring at you as though you were the only person in the room. Despite the emotion in his eyes, his expression remained neutral. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

“No…” You whispered, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat. “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N…” He repeated, nodding his head in deep thought.

The temperature of the room seemed to fall drastically. Something in his tone was ice cold. The silence was absolute, only interrupted by the noise coming from the windows, a reminder that life went on outside of the bar.

“Um… you’ll explain everything later” Biggs muttered, standing next to the pinball machine. “Seems like you need a moment alone”

“Yup, leave you guys to it!” Jessie awkwardly said, sinking into the secret room. One by one, all of her friends followed until you were alone with Tifa and Cloud.

“We have a lot of catching up to do” Tifa sweetly smiled, returning behind the bar. “I’ll prepare some drinks”

You and Cloud stood before one another. His eyes never once left you, looking you up and down as though trying to make sure that you were actually there, that you were real and not one of his many dreams.

“Well…” You awkwardly said, needing to break that suffocating silence. “Where’s Zack?”

Cloud suddenly grimaced, groaning and clutching his head. Concerned, you were about to lean in and put a hand on his arm, but ultimately decided not to do it. You still weren’t sure he wasn’t mad at you. After all, you kept an important secret from him. You lied to him and pretended to be someone you were not. All of this was something you didn’t know he could forgive and you were too scared that he would push you away.

“B/N… I mean, Y/N?” Tifa called, and so you glanced at her. She only shook her head.

The air suddenly left your lungs as you understood what that somber gesture meant. A sob got caught in your throat at the realization. You had been lucky enough to reunite with Cloud, but you would never be able to see Zack again.

Turning back to the blond, you wondered the impact this had on him. After all, he and Zack had been very close and when you left, believing you were dead…

“Oh!” You gasped when a force suddenly made you stumble.

Confused, you paused to notice Cloud’s arms wrapped around you. They urgently pressed you against his chest. An invisible weight seemed to be lifted off your chest as you accepted and treasured his embrace with a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad you’re okay…” He whispered, and in his voice you recognized that softer tone you had been used to. The old Cloud seemed to be shining through the cracks as the new fake Cloud fell apart.

He was breathing heavily, squeezing you against him so tightly that he was hurting you. In spite of it all, you didn’t have the heart to complain. You almost couldn’t breathe, but it could have been because you were starting to sob.

“You too” You cried against his shoulder, now bawling your eyes out as you clung on to his shirt and he held you still.

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @anxiouslyreckless / @xionroxas / @dancewaterdance02 / @little-faerie-artist / @x-joie-x / @honeybunhanbin / @legallyblindgamer727 / @lotsoffandomstoimagine / @imaginealllthefandoms / @fandomatakeover18 / @goodmorningawfulbye / @trunks-kiwi / @lostiintheocean // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, send me an ask!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

#rfi writings #ficlet #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife ficlet #ff #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii ficlet #ffvii #ffvii ficlet #tifa lockhart #zack fair #faves #reader insert #requested

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dystovian · 3 years

Note

Bucky Prompt Idea: Set in infinity war, the reader has spent the past few years in Wakanda with Bucky, helping him recover from the events of Civil War. To be more useful to the community, she teaches younger children in the village about the outside world. Bucky stumbles upon one of her lessons one day and is in complete awe of how precious she is & how she makes his heart soar. During the battle, maybe reader and Bucky fight alongside one another and flirt while kicking ass? Just some much needed wholesome Bucky fluff (and maybe some angst if you want, with the snap causing him (or her) to vanish?) thank you! ❤️

The Beauty in Life

Summary: in which not all good things last.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

A/N: THANK U SM FOR THE LOVE ON MY PREVIOUS FIC I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!! and, will buck get a break ever? no, likely not! will he get one in tfatws....probably...not. :) i’m in pain! 😃. also, sorry buck and the reader didn’t have much talking time, i didn’t want to put too much dialogue!

Healing. It’s what you were built for, what you were trained for. Taking people who have fallen apart, and intricately piecing them back together similar to that of a puzzle. It was difficult, yes, but you always managed.

James Buchanan Barnes was the most confusing puzzle you have come across, in all of your years of torture among Hydra’s walls, not once had you come across someone with so many missing pieces. One or two, yes, that was normal. But it seemed as if a vacuum came by and occasionally sucked up a fallen one, leading you straight back to square one during a session with him.

It wasn’t until his residence at Wakanda that you realized that all along you weren’t missing any pieces, they weren’t lost in the deep hole of a cleaning device, or a black hole. But simply lost under the rug, in hiding. When he lost his arm, yes, again, a weight lifted off his back as if he had been carrying the entire planet.

Caring for Bucky in Wakanda didn’t satisfy your thoughts. You felt like you were holding T’Challa and his people back, simply resting during the night, waking for Bucky and Bucky only. That quickly changed when Shuri ushered you to her one day, asking that you act as a substitute teacher for a history class due to the passing of their former teacher. You said yes, you wouldn’t pass up on the chance to fill a purposeful role.

Bucky’s favorite thing to do to pass the time besides caring for livestock, or watching the clouds, was undoubtedly joining your class. He loved when the children asked him questions, albeit most of them were a bit too personal, but he always answered as many as he could. The students, and you, never minded his presence, and had no issues if he got overwhelmed and had to exit the room.

“Overwhelming children, aren’t they?” T’Challa chuckled, a hand reaching to squeeze the Super Soldiers shoulder from behind, a kind but reassuring smile upon his lips.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a little scary. But it’s fun coming to visit them, they’re always eager to learn something, even if it’s a distraction.” He smiled, looking at his feet. Truth be told, he didn’t initially start coming to see the children. It was you that had offered a seat for him, welcoming him with open arms every single visit, with a lovely smile on your face. And, wow, the passion you put into teaching the children was unmatched, he admired you, he really did. Always eager to help, teach, and heal others.

“Yes, always eager. Just as you are to see Y/N. Am I correct?” The Wakandan King commented, watching as you used your ability to calm a child down after breaking their pencil, eyes and hands gentle yet swift to repair their emotions. Bucky spluttered, blinking once or twice as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but poor Buck didn’t think he was that obvious when it came to his excitement to see you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it to mysel-“

“My King, your presence is called for.” Someone called from feet away, interrupting the two, T’Challa nodded before turning to Bucky and smiling, only to walk away with another at his side. Bucky turned back to the window that looked on into your classroom, and while standing in that hallway he realized that maybe he should tell you about his admiration for you, as it’s not everyday that good things last.

But Bucky was right, nothing good ever lasted. Two days later, as Bucky tended to his goats, soldiers approached, and without a word he understood. Perhaps, one day, he could live peacefully, perhaps with his best friend, or even you by his side. But today wasn’t that day, today he had to fight.

Things escalated rather quickly, and before he knew it he was battling aliens on rolling fields with you just nearby, and a...raccoon? Almost as if by muscle memory, he barreled into the enemies with his weapon, and you tore them apart from the inside out.

“I like the arm, Bucks! Looks good on you, I’d try and keep this one, though.” You shouted through the chaos, momentarily creating what seemed like an invisible shield around the two of you in order to regain your composure. This was overwhelming, but nothing would stop you from checking in on Bucky.

“Thanks, Doll. And you should keep that haircut, you look great!” He laughed, shaking his flesh arm of a cramp. And of course, your shield dropped, and you went right back to it, fighting the bad guys, something you’ve done for years.

Soon, it was silent, birds flying away from the trees in flurries as they danced against the skyline, the grass beneath you tickling your ankles due to the breeze. Something was wrong, so terribly wrong, by the gods you didn’t want this, you wanted peace, you wanted to wake up everyday to the birds outside your window singing wonderful songs, you wanted to hum along to radio doing the dishes. You wanted a life with him, with Buck.

You kept yourself together using your ability, using your experience in keeping those puzzle pieces together for so long, doing anything to reach Bucky in time, stumbling over tree limbs, over rocks and even pebbles. By the time you reached each other, it was too late. Before the tips of your fingers could even touch, you had both fallen to the ground in a flurry of ash, confessions lost to the whispers and howls of the wind. And promises of a new life washed away by a surge of power.

#bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #😎 please enjoy!

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

zombie bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++ prompt: Sam calls you to help them out and when you arrive you become overwhelmed with feelings. You can't figure out why until later when Bucky takes your hand and his past flashes through your mind. He can't tell why you're crying until you snap out of your daze and hug him tightly

Song: don't fall asleep at the helm by sleeping with sirens

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++ when I got the call from Sam I was a little worried about the outcome of this mission. I understood why he needed me but also we both knew the risks. but he wouldn't have called if it weren't absolutely necessary. the debriefing told me exactly how important it was and that eased my mind a little. the toll it would take on me would be a big one though, so sleeping on the plane to where he was was much needed. what I wasn't expecting though was how heavy I would feel when I finally got there. the weight that came from those around me was very intense and though I was trying to focus on the emotions of only one person it was becoming too hard to handle. at least without touching someone to hone in on them alone.

when we got out of the building it helped a little, him introducing me to his friend Bucky who was standing and waiting by the car. I shook his gloved hand and the rest was history. we sat in the car to the private airport across town in silence apart from Sam going over mission plans again. it was everything I could do to not fall asleep in the backseat. the feelings fluctuated as we wove through traffic but I was really just waiting for the next plane ride. that way i could have a break; no one there except the three of us and the crew.

when we got there however, nothing really changed. even as we got in the air, the night sky peaking in through the open windows. i was still feeling a deepness around me and part of me had an idea of who it was but i couldn't tell for sure without touching either of them. but that could wait. what i needed right now was to sleep again. I couldn't handle the toll anymore.

so I sat on the jet with my eyes closed. I told them I was going to nap but god help me if I couldn't fall asleep. I was so overwhelmed it was hard to focus on anything outside of what I was feeling. there was a pang in my heart the more silence that crept into the jet. I knew it couldn't be Sam that was making me feel this way but it could be anyone else here. I just sighed, sinking further into the seat and trying my best to let go. then I heard:

"so, what's her deal? why did you call her?"

from Bucky. there was a short silence and I knew Sam was choosing his words wisely.

"her powers are sort of unique. she can feel other peoples emotions, their struggles, their reasonings. I didn't know anyone better to help us with this. she can walk into a room and immediately know everyone without ever even speaking to them."

I heard Bucky's chair squeak as he shifted uncomfortably in it.

"and this will help because?"

"we'll be able to find exactly who we need to find. and if worst comes to worst and they don't give us the information we need, she can get it."

I squeezed my eyes a little tighter. my body was feeling more anxious than sad now. and I thought my emotions were bad. another silence fell over the plane though and it wasn't long before the feeling left and I fell asleep.

what could have been only a few hours in and i was jolted awake in a cold sweat. there was so much fear running through my veins i wanted to vomit. i breathed deeply as i looked around the darkness of the jet. Sam was fast asleep in the chair next to me like he was before. but looking around i didn't see Bucky. so i got up. everything in me was telling me to go back to bed, to leave it alone, to try to forget what just happened. but i needed to know if it was him. as i made my way to the back of the jet where the bathroom was he emerged, wiping his hand on his jeans. he just looked at me with a stern look on his face before side stepping me, putting his gloves back on.

everything in me wanted to say something. to touch him and see what it was that made him feel this way. and to know if he always felt like this because i was sure it was killing me. and i couldn't project onto him without him telling me he wanted me to, thats just how it worked. so i couldn't help him any. and i wanted to so badly. maybe it would help him sleep even just a little bit. but i guess i wasn't in a position to offer. instead i just went to the bathroom and when i was done went back to my seat and stared out the window until the sun began to peer over the mountains.

°°°°°°°°° the mission was a long one but we did it. all information was secured and now it was break time. we made it back home, or at least to Sam's home, and it was good to see Sarah and the boys again. they were so excited to see all of us, Cass and AJ both a little more excited to see Bucky again than me but that was okay. as far as i was concerned it was just relieving to be around happy people who didn't drain me. Sam knew i needed that more than anything after the mission we just finished.

we sat around the porch and chatted for a bit, the boys playing in the yard, pretending to be the new captain America and winter soldier. Sam and Sarah had made their way inside now, cleaning up after lunch and talking about god knows what. i was focusing on the feelings radiating off Bucky, sat next to me on the porch swing, swaying slowly. it was comfortable, the breeze whirling around us and rustling the trees.

"you did good."

Bucky said out of nowhere and i looked to him. the feeling shifted.

"uh thanks, it was nice working with you."

he nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry."

he said and i raised a brow.

"for what?"

he cleared his throat.

"for draining you."

he said a little guilty and i sighed.

"can i tell you something buck?"

he hummed, looking over me now.

"none of it was your fault."

he looked to the ground quickly, picking at his finger tips.

"hey, no, look at me. please."

i said and he did as told.

"i feel everything. i cant escape that. no matter how much i try to control it. i have to deal with other peoples demons. and though its true I've never felt anything like the weight you carry, I can tell that you are stronger than anyone I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and I haven't even touched you to know why."

we just kind of stared at each other for a moment.

"i never asked for any of this but i somehow still feel like its my fault. but then people say I'm a hero and i feel like i have to keep going. to earn that title. cause it definitely doesn't feel like i deserve it."

i think i understood a little bit of that more now. because i had been there. people exploited me for y powers and now here i was, working with captain fricking America.

"It's okay to fall behind, to not want to be apart of this anymore. But it's also okay to feel like you owe it to yourself or to others."

he tilted his head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

i shrugged.

"You never signed up for this, I can feel it in the way the air shifts around you. i can see through part of the veil. its telling me who you were. You were supposed to die, alone in the cold for someone you held close to you. But you didn't and now you feel betrayed... bitter... or maybe lost?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

he said quickly, shifting and looking to the ground again, and i sighed.

"James I can't see exact events just by being near someone, but the way I feel when I walk into a room with you? Everything changes. Yeah sometimes it's good, and I'm so glad you've found a family in Sam, but you're still that kid from Brooklyn trying to keep the little guy out of trouble."

his head snapped in my direction.

"you could give me your hand but it might be proving me right."

he relaxed a little bit.

"Who knows, maybe I'll always be that guy, but I've changed so much I'm not entirely sure he's still in there."

i looked ahead of us at Cass and aj still running around the yard, pretending to be Sam and Bucky.

"He must be, or else why would something so innocent try to emulate it?"

he glanced over the yard at them play fighting before slipping his gloves off. i knew he kept them on because of me. Sam had told me he usually took them off when he was with him. maybe this was the beginning of something trustworthy.

"Sam told me you can help."

i watched as he opened and closed his hand a few times.

"if you let me in i can."

his gaze shifted between my eyes before holding his hand out.

"i feel like I've tried everything else in the book."

he said softly. i nodded once before taking his hand in mine. in a moment his whole life flashed before my eyes. his childhood was beautiful, him and Steve playing in the school yard and having sleep overs. his teens troubled but what else would you expect from the doom of a war. then he was being experimented on, rescued, and fighting alongside the howling commandos. then i finally understood where the cold came from. there was a fight on a train, he fell so far only to be stolen and experimented on. i could feel tears slipping down my cheeks as i stared ahead of us. it all washed over me in large waves, drowning me out so the only thing left was him.

he was poked and prodded at, ripped apart and put back together. everything he was was taken out, thrown in a blender, and then something else was forced back in. he was still a good man despite what they did to him. despite putting him on ice for years until they needed him to fulfill their evil wishes. he said he remembered all of them and i knew now he wasn't kidding. he fully remembered everything he ever did and then some. it was heart breaking. and then there was Wakanda. i could feel my heart swell in my chest at the relief of the words disappearing from his subconscious.

there was years in a hut in a field, him being his own person. there was the fight with thanos and a large gap of darkness. then there was Steve leaving and how hard that was before finally coming to a slow stop at what had happened between the flag smashers situation and where they were now. it was everything and nothing all at once and it hurt like hell. i knew he was getting better, the therapy helped but he didn't think it was. there were other methods that worked much better, like the love he found here.

"you okay?"

he asked softly and i nodded, realizing how tightly i was holding his hand. there were tears in my eyes and i could feel the wet on my face as the breeze continued to flow around. when i finally got the clarity to look at him he seemed nervous. hell he felt it too and now so did i.

"a hundred years is a lot to share with a person."

i said before blinking a few more tears out and looking at him. he pulled his hand out of mine and sat forward again.

"im sorry i shouldn't have asked."

he said quickly.

"i knew it would be too much."

i shook my head and grabbed his chin gently for him to look at me.

"you don't owe anyone an apology. i want to help you. even if its getting you through tonight with no nightmares."

his breathing hitched in his throat for a moment as he scanned my face.

"you could do that?"

he asked and i nodded, pulling him into a hug. he was tense at first but this wasn't something he had the luxury of having in a while and he slowly melted into my touch. it made me want to cry again and i knew in that moment i needed this as much as he did. and who knew, maybe we could help each other. this was it so i held him tighter.

"bucky, for you i could do anything."

#wattpad #x reader #sam wilson #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #white wolf #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #one shots #imagines #333 #marvel

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missturtleduck · 3 years

Text

The Girls of Ba Sing Se - (Sokka x f!Reader) Pt. 4

Part Three│Part Five

“It was more of a ‘I’m on the verge of going ballistic at you too, Sokka, so watch your mouth’ sort of smile.”

The moon was a liar.

Now that was a sentiment that Y/N wouldn’t agree with lightly, and yet she was. Sure, her journey so far had been blessed with good weather and better friends, but screwing around with her sleep? That was evil. It wasn’t necessarily the moon’s fault, but it was easy to blame spirits and celestials for real world problems.

At first, the day seemed normal. They had set up camp in a lovely wooded area, laughing about Appa’s shedding problem as they went about their usual chores. Aang and Sokka made sure Appa was comfortable, Momo and Y/N went out looking for food – though she didn’t realise she had a lemur shaped shadow until he landed on her shoulder, making her yelp – and the Katara tended to the main camp with Toph. Sure, the girls managed to butt heads over the division of labour, but all in all it was an okay start to an evening of rest.

Y/N took her place on the floor, Momo curled up in the crook of her stomach; with no time to collect her belongings, she didn’t have a blanket or pillow, but her new friends were astounding at her abilities of staying warm regardless, and falling asleep anywhere. Sokka had offered his furs to her in the beginning and she managed to decline without her face changing to a deep shade of red. For an hour or so, she had managed to drift into a dreamless slumber.

“There’s something coming towards us!”

Momo screeched as Y/N shot up, eyes half shut, hand on her staff. “What is it?”

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she saw Toph with both hands pressed to the ground, her face scrunching up. “It’s like an avalanche, only it’s not an avalanche.”

“Your powers of perception are frightening.”

Biting back a grin, Y/N got to her feet, nudging Sokka with her bō. He groaned, rolling onto his other side and burying his face in his arms. She continued to prod him until he eventually got up, muttering something under his breath that she didn’t quite catch.

Under the orders of the Avatar – or suggestion, rather; he wasn’t very commanding – the group packed their stuff, climbing onto Appa ready to move away from whatever was coming their way. Squinting at the horizon, Y/N realised the scale of the thing pursuing them.

“Tank train,” She said, her voice low and dangerous. “Fire Nation. We need to move now.”

With confirmation of what was chasing them, urgency in the group picked up slightly. Y/N watched and watched until she saw the plumes of mechanical smoke disappear into the inky night, no longer visible over the ocean of trees. For a moment, she breathed a sigh of relief. Opening her mouth to say something, she realised no one was in the mood for talking. Sokka, head in his hands, was managing to catch some sleep despite being high in the air. Even Aang, who seemed to be constantly chipper, rubbed at his eyes, dark circles beginning to form under them. Y/N by no means necessary disliked sleep, but she could cope with missing it – more than these it seemed.

As Appa let out a rumbling yawn, he came to land in a clearing within the woods. Clambering from the bison, Toph seemed far happier with her feet on the ground, ready to sleep once more.

“See you guys in the morning!”

“Actually,” Katara said, her voice polite, her face annoyed, “Can you help us unload?”

Toph snorted, crossing her arms. “Really? You need me to help unload Sokka’s stinky sleeping bag?”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled to her lips; Aang, as animated as ever, pulled a face as he held the bag between two fingers, practically throwing it at Sokka. The non-bender proceeded to grow very red as he hopped into it, hitting the ground and nearly falling right back to sleep as soon as it happened.

“That, and everything else. You’re part of our team now, and- “

Toph pointed her finger, cutting her off. “Look! I didn’t ask you to help unload my stuff! I can carry my own weight.”

“Toph,” Y/N said gently, erring on the side of caution, “I only have my bō staff and I’m still helping. It’s not hard.”

“Well, you’ll get along so well with the Sugar Queen then, won’t you Little Miss Perfect?”

Her jaw dropped as she looked at the girl. Katara seemed to boil with rage, ready to go ballistic with her words. And go ballistic she did. It possibly didn’t help that Y/N also had the exact same idea, so the overlapping shouting at Toph may not have been constructive. Words like rude, selfish, and maybe even vulgar were thrown about. The argument ended with Toph slamming a rock up between them, closing herself into a makeshift tent.

“Should we do something?” Aang asked quietly, nudging a serene looking Sokka.

“Hey, I’m just enjoying the show.”

Y/N whipped around the smile at him, although it wasn’t the sweet smile that she often saved for him at the moment. It was more of a ‘I’m on the verge of going ballistic at you too, Sokka, so watch your mouth’ sort of smile. The grin fell off his face very quickly after that, and she felt some satisfaction watching him swallow his nerves down.

“I think,” Aang said, which was never a good way to start a sentence in this sort of situation, Y/N thought, “That you all need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” Katara exclaimed, not calm.

With that, she walked away, and Y/N had the comical thought of steam rising from her head in anger. Sighing, she slumped to the ground, Momo taking his usual spot right by her stomach, curling into a ball on her lap. In his tiny hand he clutched her index finger. She might try to sleep, she reasoned with herself, but something about the course that tank train was on made her feel sick in her stomach. It felt wrong.

“Go to sleep,” A voice slurred next to her, Sokka’s voice.

“Can’t,” Y/N responded quickly, staring down at Momo.

His sleeping bag rustled. “Can’t or won’t?”

She smiled, softer than the earlier one she gave him. “Go to sleep, Sokka.”

Y/N didn’t have to tell him twice as he relented to her order, eyes closing as he began to drift. As he did, she spotted Katara coming back from her walk, hopefully calmer than she had been previously. She was not.

“The stars sure are beautiful tonight,” She said in a tone that rubbed Y/N the wrong way. “Too bad you can’t see them, Toph!”

Grimacing, Y/N watched the drama unfold. With a flick of the wrist, Toph sent a tremor through the earth, so strong it sent Katara flying – right into Sokka. So much for sleep.

Pushing his sister off, he glared at the two girls. “How’s a guy supposed to get any sleep around here with all this shouting and earthquaking?”

Unfortunately, something worse was on the horizon. Toph announced it as soon as Y/N spotted those smoke plumes again, far too close for comfort. This was not a usual route for a tank train to take. They were being followed, specifically hunted. But what was giving away their position? Surely it wasn’t the arguing.

“A few more minutes,” Sokka whined, pulling his sleeping bag over his face.

“Don’t make me carry you,” Y/N warned, moving Momo so that he could curl up under her shirt undisturbed as they moved.

He stared up at her as she offered her hand, something on his face that was more than bashfulness. Y/N didn’t ponder on it for long. Hoisting him up with strength that surprised him, they got back onto Appa as swiftly as possible, Y/N making sure to smother the camp fire and hide the ashes under dust.

She could feel Appa struggle as he descended over the peaks of a mountain range, coming to land on hard rock. Well, land was one word for it. Y/N was sent tumbling off of Appa’s back, clutching her stomach so she didn’t crush Momo and have to serve up Lemur pancakes for breakfast. The bison immediately fell asleep, unbothered by the luggage that had fell off of his back in the process. Even the animals were tired, Y/N realised, a gnawing feeling of anxiety growing inside her. They were being hunted, not only hunted, but driven to defeat in a psychological and personal way.

It couldn’t be.

Sokka brushed himself off from the tumble. “Okay, forget about setting up camp- “

“Well, Toph wouldn’t have helped anyway.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise that the baby still needed tucking in!”

“Will you two pack it in!” Y/N snapped, too angry and anxious to feel extremely conscious of the fact she was being stared at. “We are being hunted down by the Fire Nation, and you two are busy bickering! Stop it! There is no need, and you’ll realise that when we have soldiers, or worse, right at our doorstep!”

The silence was deafening, so jarring that it caused Momo to stir from his sleep and clamber up onto Y/N’s head – absolutely not helping her case in that moment.

“It could be Zuko,” Aang said, ending the long silence.

“Who’s Zuko?” Toph asked, the first calm thing she had said all evening.

Sokka rubbed his temples, face looking down into the dirt. “Oh, just some angry freak with a ponytail who won’t stop stalking us.”

“Sokka,” Y/N said, faux confused, “You have a ponytail. Why so offended by Prince Zuko’s?”

“This,” He interjected, looking vaguely offended, “Is a warrior’s wolf tail.”

“Aw, and I’m sure all the other warriors know how cute and perky you are,” She teased, pouting her lip.

He grumbled at her, sliding to the ground. “Go to sleep, Lady Y/N.”

With a scoff, Y/N began to sit, ready to join him in rest. However, Momo went from pulling her ears – ouch, by the way – to jumping on Sokka’s chest, chittering frantically. Alert, the lemur raised his ears, gliding to a ledge of rock, hopping on the spot animatedly. For her own peace of mind, Y/N followed the little creature to the ledge.

“Up,” She said, her voice panicked, “Everybody up now.”

She never thought they’d send Azula.

TAGLIST: @lunariasilver

#atla #sokka x reader #sokka #toph #katara #aang #azula #princess azula #zuko #prince zuko #fanfic #the girls of ba sing se #missturtleduck

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