#razer gaming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erisenyo · 9 months

Note

“Please come get me.” For Zukka

Please make this as angsty and emotional as possible I was it to hurt thank you

(Maybe self-inflicted damage? Not necessarily SH but just by being willfully reckless?)

For this prompt game!

“You don’t think this is concerning?”

“No, Sokka,” Katara says again, patient, a familiar blend of exasperation and fondness in her chest as she glances over to where he’s fiddling with his wrist wraps, frowning down at Zuko’s latest letter. “I think it’s fine.”

“You’re sure?” he presses, anxious in a way he so rarely lets himself be this openly, at least in front of the people he’s anxious about. And because she knows how much he does worry no matter how much he tries to hide it, she leans over, gently taking the letter out of his hand and indulging him in scanning it over once again.

“He says it’s not as cold as he expected,” she says, skimming over the lines as Sokka pulls a little face, “That Arnook was nice, that he misses you—” she peaks through her lashes at that bit, looking for any twitch on his face as he just continues to nod along. “—that he’s looking forward to seeing you again, that the food’s good, that tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”

She lets her hand drop to look at him, expectant, sighing when he just continues to nod, face anxious.

“Sokka,” she says gently, “He says he’s fine. And I know you miss him,” she adds when he continues to look unconvinced.

“That’s not it,” he protests immediately.

“But he’s only going to be gone for a few weeks.”

“Katara, that’s not—”

“And you’ll see him soon, okay?” she finishes, reaching out to grab his hand, giving it a little squeeze until he sighs and leans back.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay,” he repeats, grabbing back the letter and putting on a bright smile like she doesn’t know exactly how to see through that, like she can’t see the way his thumb continues to worry at the edge of it. “So what was it you needed help with again?”

“Penguin sledding,” she says, abruptly changing the plan for the day and grinning at him when he blinks, nonplussed. “We need to pick out the best hills for the new season, for the little ones,” she says. “Make some maps, maybe, plan some routes, do some schedules.” All of his favorite things she can think of, to keep his mind off his worry.

“I don’t know,” Aang says apologetically as he and Sokka jump across a gap where the temple floor’s fallen away. Probably no one should stay in this hallway until they fix that… “I don’t think I’m hearing it.”

“No?” Sokka says, the syllable cracking with uncertainty.

“Tell me again, though,” Aang says quickly. “What did it say?”

Sokka huffs, a faint furrow between his brows as he digs out two pieces of paper, peeling the latest letter off the top. “He greets me,” he rattles off, eyes flicking over the page, Aang keeping half an eye on the placement of his feet since Sokka isn’t anymore, “He talks a bit about the canals, he mentions Yugoda, bending, bending, bending—”

“Oh?” Aang says, perking up. “Did he—”

“Stay focused,” Sokka orders, waving a hiding hand.

Aang sighs but obediently puts on his most attentive face.

“And then he says—” Sokka clears his throat, drawing himself up, so Aang makes sure he’s actually paying attention. “—that he had an interesting afternoon of discussions, that Sei Zun is missing his office, and that everything is going fine.”

Aang nods, projecting attentive with everything he has and freezing a little when Sokka just hits him with an expectant look.

“I mean,” Aang says slowly, scratching the back of his head. “It sounds like everything is going fine?”

“Fucking—” Sokka cuts off with an aggravated noise, throwing his hands up.

“I can write him myself for the bending stuff,” Aang blurts, scrambling for something to get the worried tightness off of Sokka’s face and wincing when Sokka just lets out another garbled noise because…yeah. That…probably wasn’t it.

“Run it back at me again, Loverboy,” Toph orders, flicking a little bit of stone toward the sound of Sokka’s feet when he makes a questioning little noise. “I can hear you worrying over there,” she says, giving an exasperated look in his general direction. “Get it out.”

He pauses, heartbeat a little too quick like it’s been all day, then, cautiously, “You already said it was nothing.”

“Maybe I was wrong,” she shrugs. Sokka is excitable and far more anxious than he tries to let on, but that excitableness has gotten them out of more than one bind.

“…Um,” he says after a moment, hair rustling as he scratches under his wolftail.

“I mean, I don’t think I am,” she allows, grinning when he snorts and making a kicking up her feet. “But maybe you explained it to my shitty.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, a good sound over the rustle of papers as he tugs out those letters again. “Okay,” he says, getting serious, her words as much on his heartbeat as his words as she tries to pick up on what exactly is worrying him about this, “So it starts with saying things are fine—” ba-DUMP. “—talks about training a bit with some of the staff fighters—” ba-dump. “—talks about a canal ride—” BA-dump, interesting. “—he had a formal dinner, the food was nice, sea prune stew reminded me of him.” Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, filling up his expectant silence as she plays back the words and weighs them and tries to pick them apart and…

“Yeah, Sokka,” she finally says, apologetic and wincing a little when he audibly slumps, heart dropping in a way she usually can’t literally sense. “I’m not hearing it.”

“You don’t—he doesn’t seem off to you?” Sokka presses, sounding like he isn’t sure whether to let the anxiety out or whether he wants to be assured.

“I mean, based on how you read it…” Toph shrugs. She always assumes Sokka puts the most dramatic read on anything that he’s able to, given the opportunity. He’s second only to Zuko, there.

“I just, I feel like I should go up there,” he says, weight shifting back and forth and back and forth.

“Do you think,” she says carefully, “That that might muddy the waters for him?” She flicks a pebble back and forth across the ground when he stays conspicuously silent. “He’s trying to build his own relationships, Sokka. Right?”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges, reluctant, beads rattling softly as he shakes his head. “I just—I just don’t think he’s okay.”

“He said he’s fine, like, multiple times in each letter.”

“Yeah,” he says again after a beat, sounding doubtful, and Toph nods, slow and serious and silently tossing aside every loose plan they had for the day. They don’t need to be talking to officials and discussing infrastructure projects when he’s in a mood like this, she decides. They need to be riding Omashu’s mail carts.

“And none of these are horny?” Mai checks again as she takes the offered stack of letters.

“No,” Sokka says again, openly fretting, not even exasperated, so Mai shrugs and quickly skims through the stack. She keeps her face still, her movements measured as she sips her sweet waterorange juice, her eyes skipping over bland descriptions, over details of Zuko’s day that are all about what Zuko did—

“Oh,” Mai says.

“Yeah?” Sokka pauses in his pacing, something half hopeful and half nervous on his face.

—over talk of other people and none of himself—

“Oh yeah,” Mai repeats, setting down her juice.

“Right?”

—and fine, fine, fine repeated over and over again.

“Yeah, this is not good,” Mai agrees.

“Thank you.”

“Wow,” she says, going back over that last letter again and lingering over the careful curve of Zuko’s characters. “He’s about to lose his shit.”

“Okay, yes.”

She flicks him a flat stare, incredulous. “Why are you still here?”

“He’s supposed to be building relationships with the Northern Water Tribe on his own,” Sokka says, shoving both hands through his hair and looking like he has to physically stop himself from tearing I out. “And everyone is saying I’m going to get in the way, and I don’t want to mess it up for him but I also don’t want it to be harder than it has to be, and he’s not okay I don’t care what everyone—bird."

Mai instinctively ducks beneath the table, watching from safety as a messenger hawk dives down to smack Sokka square in the back, the pair of them screaming and squawking and flailing in a mess of limbs and wings until the hawk finally manages to dump its scroll case and take off, disgruntled, leaving Sokka mussed and breathing heavily in its wake.

Mai cautiously slides back into her chair, Sokka’s eyes wide and flicking around the sky as she waits as long as she can before huffing pointed.

“Well,” she demands, flicking the scroll an expectant look. “What does it say?” Because she knows one of Azula’s overdramatic, overly trained birds when she sees one, which only two people in the entire Fire Nation use, and that one clearly wasn’t for her.

Sokka scrambles into motion, fumbling the scroll case opening, hands hasty and quick and—“Fuck.”

Mai straightens, snatching the scrap of paper out of the air when Sokka suddenly tosses it at her and takes off, staring after him a moment before carefully flattening it out along with the others he left her, knowing he’ll want them all back, and raising her eyebrows when she sees one firmly scrawled line in Zuko’s distinctly overly formal hand:

Please come get me

“Well,” Mai purses her lips, wondering how exactly Sokka’s going to get himself there. “Fuck.”

Sokka leaps out of the newly streamlined transit balloon he’s been designing as soon as its close enough to the ground for him to not fuck up his knee with the landing, shouting a thanks over his shoulder and dashing over the freshly constructed landing pads, calling hellos in response to the startled exclamations he gets and scanning across the promenade for—

“Zuko!” he cries as he catches sight of that breadth of shoulders he’d recognize anywhere, that politely attentive angle of his head, the deep maroon of his robes standing out against the snow and in the cluster of periwinkle blue around him.

Zuko pivots toward him, face momentarily open, surprised and startled and relieved. “Sokka!” he calls back, immediately ignoring the others, hurrying forward, not exactly funning but intent, focused, determined, sweeping Sokka into his arms the second he’s close enough, leaning into him as Sokka leans back, sighing in relief to be surrounded by his warmth, to feel him solid and heavy against him and so, so beloved.

“Hey, love,” Sokka whispers, ignoring the uncertain crowd around them and mouthing a silent thank you when Poak catches his eye before waving everyone else back to give them space.

“Hey,” Zuko says into his shoulder, shaky, laughing a little and clutching Sokka even tighter.

“I missed you,” Sokka says, clearing his throat and feeling his eyes stinging as he presses his smile against Zuko’s hair.

“Mhm.” Zuko pushes harder into Sokka’s chest.

“I decided I couldn’t wait to see you again,” Sokka murmurs, running a hand up Zuko’s back, something in him unwinding as he feels the familiar lines of Zuko's back moving as Zuko laughs again, wet. “So I figured hey, why not take a little trip.”

“Is that your new experimental design?” Zuko asks, shifting just enough to glance over Sokka’s shoulder. “It didn’t drop you out of the air.”

“Nope,” Sokka grins, sinking his fingers into Zuko’s hair. “It did not.”

Zuko hums, turning into his neck. “I missed you,” he whispers, heartfelt.

“Yeah,” Sokka says, the words coming out thick as he pulls Zuko more firmly against him. “Me too, buddy.”

Zuko sighs, relaxing into him inch by inch, the two of them just breathing together, even and slowly falling into sync.

“I am going,” Zuko finally says, tone nearly abstract, distant, “To punch him in the fucking face.”

Sokka blinks a little. Wha—

“If I have to see one more smug look—”

“Ah,” Sokka says, realizing.

“—or listen to one more fucking sour, pretend offhand comment—”

“Right,” Sokka says, smoothing a hand down Zuko’s back and glancing around, making sure Pakku isn’t actually in Zuko’s line of sight right now.

“You would not believe—”

“Oh, I would,” Sokka says, with feeling. The meetings he's been in with that man...

“That man,” Zuko hisses, literally steaming with the force of his anger.

“Yup,” Sokka agrees, giving him a solid pat. Sokka knows exactly how he feels.

“If Katara gets to lay him out—”

“Katara isn’t the Fire Lord,” Sokka quickly points out. And Pakku is, for better or worse, enough of an ass not to want anyone to know he got decked by a girl.

“I’ll fucking give it up for the chance to—”

“Okay, okay,” Sokka says, giving Zuko another firm pat and glancing around for some redirection. Lighting things on fire should probably be out, Sokka didn’t bring his sword—“Want to go find a big stick?”

Zuko is still a moment, then pulls back just enough to peak at him, gold eye half-narrowed and suspicious.

“I can throw some snowballs,” Sokka offers, inviting. “You can smack them.” Zuko hesitates, openly considering, so Sokka adds, "They explode."

“Okay let’s go,” Zuko says almost before he gets the words out, grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers together as he hauls Sokka off and away from the confused clump of Northerners, Sokka tossing a wave over his shoulder and an apologetic shrug, happy to let himself be pulled along—at least until Zuko pauses at the first intersection, uncertain, and Sokka can take over.

#asks and answers #ask games #Anon you do not know how hard it was for me to not make this about Zuko crashing his razer scooter #Which did not seem to quite fit the requested tone lol #Sokka #Zuko #Zukka #fic writing #my writing #The Gaang

440 notes · View notes