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ur-jinji · 3 years

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wallflowers: part two

zuko x reader modern au

warning: sokka throws up a lot. sokka always ends up throwing up in my fics

summary: after a night at a party with the gaang and meeting zuko, you join them for breakfast and find time alone with him

a/n: i had no intention of writing a sequel & left part one off with a little bit of cliffhanger just for the fun of it but i got like two comments asking for a part two and i was like damn i feel like i owe it to yall for ending it like that,, so here you go :) i don’t really know how to feel about it

Unknown: hey :) it’s zuko

Your eyes widened at your phone in surprised.

‘He actually texted me,’ You thought to yourself in awe.

“What are you smiling about?” Katara questioned from the drivers seat of the car. She raised an eyebrow and a very smug smirk was wiped across her face.

“Uh, nothing,” You lied before turning back to your phone. You stared at the message for a moment, your fingers stuck. Why were you so nervous to text him back?

You: hey :) how’s the party?

Zuko: really boring now that you’re gone :( aang and i just went up to the guest room for bed. everyone started to leave

You smiled softly.

You: you’re so sweet!!

Zuko: i heard we might go to breakfast tomorrow. will you be there?

“We’re going to breakfast?” You asked Katara.

“Yeah, once they all rise from the dead. Sokka and Suki will probably be the ones most screwed up tomorrow,” She replied, causing you to laugh and nod in agreement.

You: yeah i’ll be there :)

Zuko: good :) see you then

You put your phone back into your pocket and could not stop smiling. Butterflies were swarming in your stomach. You eventually made it to Suki’s apartment, and you and Katara had to practically drag them inside. Once you tucked them into bed, you made yourself comfy on the couch in the living room. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw another text.

Zuko: did you make it to suki’s okay??

You: yes :) thanks for asking. we had to put sokka and suki to bed. i think theyll be out for the rest of the night so no funny business haha

Zuko: just give it a minute

Just a moment after Zuko sent that text, you started to hear a consistent creaking of a mattress coming from the other room

You: oh my god you’re right they’re going at it

You: i don’t even know how lmao they were knocked out a second ago

Zuko: i’ve suffered through many long nights in the same house as them. they always find a way -.-

You: god theyre animals lmfao

You: i’m gonna get some sleep, you should too!!

Zuko: okay, sleep well :)

You: you too :)

You awoke the next morning with a sliver of sunshine from the mostly closed curtains shining brightly directly on your face. It was sometime around noon. You rubbed your eyes tiredly and noticed a sound from the bathroom that sounded like gagging. You were suddenly very thankful you only had one drink the previous night. If it weren’t for Zuko, you probably would’ve had more.

You stood from the couch and followed the noise of gags. The door was wide open and you could see Sokka leant over the toilet. You walked towards him, concerned.

“Hey, buddy. Want me to get you some water?” You offered kindly as you placed a hand on his back, rubbing circles. He looked up at you with a look of disgust on his face and nodded slowly.

“I don’t know how Suki does it. She’s perfectly fine,” He mumbled before burping and leaning back over the toilet. Some vomit came up. Gross.

You made your way to the kitchen where you saw Suki, all readied up, pretty, and ready to go.

“Hey, Y/N! How did you sleep?” She chirped. She handed you a water bottle for Sokka, already knowing.

“I slept good. The couch was very comfy,” Yoh replied with a smile.

“I didn’t mean to get so trashed last night. Did I do anything embarrassing?” Suki asked.

“Nope. Sokka on the other hand...” You responded, gaining a laugh from her. Katara appeared in the kitchen and greeted the two of you. She also looked ready to go. You felt embarrassed that you were the last one up.

“I’ll go get ready real quick!” You told them before speed walking from the kitchen. You bee lined to the bathroom and gave Sokka his water.

“Thanks,” He muttered sickly.

“I’m gonna get ready in here while you puke, mkay?” You told him. He nodded and took a long drink of water. He fell backwards onto the tile floor and stared miserably up at the sealing. You went over to the vanity and rushed to get ready using Suki’s things and an extra toothbrush she left for you. As you ran a brush through your hair, you heard Sokka scramble to get back up and upchuck into the toilet some more. You finished up getting ready and made your way out of the bathroom.

You joined the girls on the couch in the living room and chatted for a while until Sokka was able to hold down his vomit. He appeared in the living room and stared miserably at the three of you.

“Don’t you look pretty,” Katara teased. “Now let’s go. Aang, Toph, and Zuko just got to the diner.”

The four of you made your way out to the car and you somehow got stuck in the back with Sokka. He looked like he was about throw up all over you.

“Suki, I hate you for calling shotgun,” You told her. She turned around from the passenger seat and giggled.

“I’m not about to be thrown up on!” She reasoned.

Sokka grumbled something incoherent and then rested his head on the window, closing his eyes. Maybe if he does throw up, he’ll just do it on the floor? Maybe.

You arrived at the diner without any puke on you and you all made your way inside. Aang waved you over at a large table when he saw the group walk in. Your eyes landed on Zuko, who had already noticed you. He smiled warmly. He was seated at the very end of the table with Toph on the other side of him. You took a seat across from him, and Suki sat beside you. You were grateful Sokka didn’t sit by you.

“Hi, Y/N,” Zuko greeted you from across the table. You greeted him back, adding a grin. You looked over the menu to busy yourself. You felt yourself becoming very nervous again in Zuko’s presence, and feeling his gaze on you didn’t help.

“You’re lucky we’re in public, snoozles. I’m ready to put you into another chokehold,” You heard Toph say, presumably to Sokka, earning laughs from the rest of the group.

The table’s waitress came over and took everyone’s orders and then proceeded to say that it may take longer because the kitchen was super backed up. Your stomach grumbled loudly in response.

“God, I’m so hungry,” You said when she walked away.

“Me too,” Sokka said moodily from the other end of the table.

“I’m surprised you even want to eat!” Katara replied to him.

“Do you think you can wait?” Zuko asked.

“I mean, I have to,” You said with a chuckle, thinking you were stating the obvious.

“I have a granola bar in my car if you want it?” He offered softly to you, nudging your shoe with his.

“Really? I wouldn’t mind having one. I’m literally starving,” You responded, ready to jump out of your seat to get the dang thing.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Zuko said as he got up from his chair. You followed him out of the diner and into the parking lot, making small talk on the way to his car. Once you arrived at the destination, he opened the cardoor and fished a granola bar from his school backpack.

“I always have an emergency snack just in case for...y’know...emergencies,” He explained, his voice sounding anxious. You thanked him and ripped that sucker open. You split it in half and handed a half out to him.

“Please share it with me! I don’t want to spoil my entire appetite on accident,” You begged him.

Zuko grabbed the other half and then leaned against the door, munching on his half. You joined him against the door and looked up at him.

“So, did Sokka and Suki keep you up?” He asked.

“Not really. It was quickie,” You answered with a chuckle.

“You’re lucky. They kept me up for two hours once. It was awful,” He said, breathing out a shaky laugh. His nerves were becoming more and more obvious. “I’m not as bold as I was last night.”

“Well, the nickname liquid courage might explain it,” You joked.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Zuko asked with a hopeful expression. You nodded in response and the two of you began a trek out of the parking walk and down some sidewalk. The two of you spent the time sharing stories about your past and friends. You couldn’t help but notice how every so often, his hand would accidentally brush against your knuckles as you walked, causing a few blushes. You ended up at a large mural on the side of an abandoned bricked building on an empty street. It depicted the city abstractly. You looked up in admiration.

“We don’t have very many murals in my town. Just graffiti of random names,” You said to him. “It’s beautiful.”

You walked up to the mural, and as you got closer to the bricks, you reached out a hand, touching the paint gently, and running your fingers down the bricks. Zuko copied you, and his hand accidentally got a little too close to yours. His index finger lightly grazed your pinky. You both froze for a moment, taking in the rush that the contact gave. Zuko turned to you with a soft expression, which you returned.

“We should probably head back. Our food might be ready,” You said, nerves taking over you. You pulled your hand away from the bricks.

“Wait,” Zuko told you hurriedly. “I’ll regret not doing this.”

Before you could ask him what he meant, his hands found their way under your cheekbones. Zuko leaned forward and his eyes fluttered shut. His lips touched yours, causing a rush to race throughout your body. You immediately kissed him back, feeling like you’ve been deprived of his touch all your life. His lips moved quickly against yours like it was urgent. You opened your mouth slightly, welcoming his tongue, which seemed more than happy to enter. You eventually pulled away to catch your breath, both of you panting heavily. Zuko smirked and then leaned in for one more quick kiss, then another, then another, then another, pulling away for a second inbetween each one.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that since last night, but didn’t want to give you the wrong idea. I just really like you,” Zuko explained through his deep breaths. You grinned and pulled him back in for more to tell him you felt the same way. You eventually separated again, and you shared a smile with him.

“I like you too, Zuko. You replied, caressing his cheek, smiling and breathing out one final deep breath. “Let’s head back before our food gets cold.”

Zuko nodded with a small opened mouth smile. The two of you began your walk back, and he surprised you again by taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers.

As you walked back, you couldn’t help but think about transferring colleges.

taglist: @complainsalot @teelagurl558 @coldlilheart

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theotherace · 3 years

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Fic Recs: Taang

I’ve made two or three rec lists over the past few months, but I thought I’d make a proper, comprehensive one that’s easy to add to in the future. Not all of these are exclusively Taang, but they all feature the ship to some degree. I will only recommend one or two stories per author, but some profiles are definitely worth checking out further. So! Here goes.

Multi-Chapter, Complete

Whisper Into the Sky by damagectrl – Toph has two choices: Go home and get married or have the family fortune and her inheritance given to a stranger. Her problem: She wants to keep her ties to her family, but is quite content traveling with Aang. Her solution: Fight her way through suitors for her freedom. Literally. | General

The Slow Path by Tazmainian Devil – Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind. | T

A Matter of Honor by Adridere – Almost 4 years after the war. Aang is engaged to Katara and is up to Zuko to teach him the facts of life. Yep, the bees and the birds. Crazy kings, bananas and the ultimate contest for the hand of a reluctant maiden. | M

Roommates by breeeliss – An unlikely tale of two unlikely people being forced to live together under unlikely circumstances.| Modern AU | T

Fall of the White Lotus by Boo-82 – Three years after the war Zuko is living a life of duty while Katara reluctantly travels the world with Aang. So, when General Iroh orders them to find Zuko’s mother and save his Order they seize the opportunity with both hands. It’s the beginning of an adventurous journey of discovery, but as time runs out a rising threat puts their bond to the test. | T

Half Asleep by The Crushinator – Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin’s dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams… | T

Yaaburnee by aviatordame – Avatars aren't meant to belong – that's as much as Aang can fathom. | M

Getting Lucky by roca-dos – Crazy things happen in college every day. | Modern AU | T

All Fall Down by DJNS – Aang copes with a tragic loss and finds renewed hope in an unexpected place. | M | Warning for Major Character Death

The Princess & the Badger-Cat by panaili – In a land never torn apart by the Hundred Year War, the sixteen-year-old Avatar Aang is trying his best to keep the balance between the four nations, including the increasingly antagonistic Fire Nation, which, despite his friendship with the Crown Prince Zuko, refuses to acknowledge him. Elsewhere, Sokka and Katara have been separated on their quest to find their missing father, and Sokka, pursued by the same bandits who kidnapped his sister, finds himself on the balcony of some rich girl’s house in Gaoling. Oh, and a sorcerer has turned him into a badger-cat. It’s just one of those days. | Teen and Up

Reborn by Jakia – Life. Death. Rebirth. This is the cycle that all spirits must abide to, even the Avatar. Aang and Toph face death and the reincarnation cycle. | T

New Girl by tiffaniesblews – After coming home early from a business trip, all Katara wanted to do was surprise her boyfriend, Jet. Imagine her surprise when she got home and Jet was in bed with another woman. Not wanting to live with her ex, and unable to live with her best friend, Suki, Katara takes her brother Sokka's offer to move into his loft with his two roommates. Aang is perky and sweet, the owner of a st. Bernard and a cat, who's often confused about his direction in life. Zuko, on the other hand, is a closed-off bartender, who takes some time opening up to others.The four could not be more different, and yet? They work out perfectly. Even if Katara's feelings for Zuko get a bit more complicated as time goes on. | Modern AU | Mature

The Ties That Bind series by LdyKirin – An exploration of the ties that bind for good and ill. Toph and Zuko are both shaped by the family they were born to and the family they choose. Lots of found family feels. | T

What Happens In Kyoshi by BlackVelvetBand – Prince Zuko, and the GAang take a vacation on Kyoshi Island. Flirting, fighting, and embarrasment ensue as Sokka takes it upon himself to defend Katara's virtue...in a dress? A short,chaptered fic featuring Zutara, Sokki, and Taang. | T

Under the Night Sky by mycomfortblanket – Aang hears the chattering of teeth during a cold night. Was an AU that I found on tumblr that I made fit into this story. Orginal prompt: "We have to go camping together and share a sleeping bag even though we are complete strangers | General

On The Precipice by JoyDragon – They’re just best friends. Or maybe they’re teetering on the edge of being something more. | General

Oneshots, Complete

Air and Stone by Wolvenfire86 – A few Taang stories munched together. My first submissions. I hope everyone likes them. Please review, it makes me feel special. | K+

Taang Week 2020 series by teabagginses | Teen and Up & Mature

Our Little Secret by IrisPlumeria – Toph and Aang, sat next to one another dressed in their finest under paper lanterns and surrounded by copious amounts of food and friends, cringed at the disgusting noises coming out of Sokka’s nostrils as he blew his nose into Suki’s handkerchief. “I can’t believe two of my best friends are finally married!” Sokka sobbed, earning a supportive pat on the back from Suki, who didn’t flinch at the snot coming out of his nose. “I’m so happy for you guys!” Toph and Aang's family are happy for their nuptials, but will they be able to survive their wedding party without letting slip a big secret?Written for Taang Week 2020 - Tradition. | General

All Roads Lead To Ba Sing Se by irisbleufic – "I was thinking," [Mai] said, tucking her last remaining dagger into her belt as she strode to meet him, "that it's about time I let Fire Lord Zuko know that I quit." When Kuei smiled at her, she could see the sunshine at which she once cringed."Notice that's six years overdue is better than none at all." "Indeed," said the Earth Queen, and grinned at him. | Teen And Up

Lady Fu’s Fortune Telling by Lady Cleo – Katara and Toph visit the local fortuneteller to get their fortunes told. Added a part two with Zuko and Aang. | T

The Perfect Companion by Morna – Aang seeks comfort outside of the arms of his wife, Katara. Taang, slightly lemony. | T

Box by JoeMerl – Written for Taang Week, one-shot. Toph ticks off Bumi, but Aang is willing to fight his old friend tooth and nail to get her out of trouble. Humor, light romance. | K+

2 am by shmulia – Whoever set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning is on Katara's shit list. Even if he is hot and shirtless. | Modern AU | K

And its sequel, 11:45 – House parties aren't Katara's thing. Sokka's drunk, Suki's on a mission to set her up, and Toph is... well, Toph. But for every cloud there's a silver lining, and for Katara it comes in the form of a second chance with her neighbour... | Modern AU | T

Treat by PsychEmpress – She felt the corners of her own lips quirk as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Consider this my treat,” he said and Toph allowed a smile to break out. OR In which Toph is a stressed architecture student who gets a free cup of coffee from the handsome waiter after she helps his friend. Taang. Mentions of Sukka. | Modern AU | T

Sawaru by metacognitive – This love is simple. Non-Korra compliant. | K+

Newlyweds (and basically everything else) by PandaCookie – Everyone’s a bit hopeless right after they’ve been married. | K+

Rhythms by xcgirl08– For now, though, her child’s heartbeat was hers to contemplate. | K

Tenderness by Adridere – He wanted to keep her, even though he was not supposed to. He promised her freedom, and she promised him sanity in his own household. She kept her part of the bargain, but he found a way not to keep his. | M

Holy Matrimony by Loopy – After their marriage, Zuko and Katara deal with conflicting religious beliefs, and look to the friends for advice. Between the Zutara and the religious satire, every single person who reads this should feel offended. | General

Blind Maiden’s Grace by Adara_Rose – You can learn a lot of things from a flower… | Not Rated (I’d say General)

Etched in the Earth by Dance_Elle_Dance – She knows the feel of Aang’s footprints better than her own, and that reality scares her. | Teen and Up

No One Asks About The Scars by voleuse – Write about how you learned to curse in order not to be cursed. | General

When in Rome by dtmars – She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing and what she was getting herself into. They both did. | Modern AU. | Explicit

Like Real People Do by DerAndere – The moon is full and bright when he falls out of bed, awake, asleep, inside a dream, and starts walking, driven by the feeling he does not understand, tugging on him relentlessly, and he is Aang, and he is not, and the world is cold. | General | Full Disclosure: This is my story.

Meet Me Under The Table by avatarfan16 – A story of how Toph and Aang find love, in the most unusual of places. TAANG | K+

Aftermath by Zaram'delar – In any celebration, there's always one or two people with a habit of disappearing. Taang drabbleish series. | T

I Choose Dare by for_darkness_shows_the_stars – An ode to how Aang, under the power of a mighty temptress, was forced to grow a beard. Oh, and the birth of his first child, too, he supposes. | General Audiences

Multi-Chapter, In Progress

Heartbeat by AngelicBee – Avatar Aang's soulmate probably died 100 years before, but he can't help but feel she's closer than he thinks. | Teen and Up

a mighty ocean (or a gentle kiss) by poweradequeen – no, the title doesn’t make sense but i don’t care. i couldn’t think of one so now you’re stuck with a cheesy line from two by sleeping at last.it’s a taang fine arts university au. because i said so. | Teen and Up

Neither is Love a Cage by cali-chan – Love is the freedom of flying accompanied. It is letting be without possessing. PG-13 (possibly M later on), drama/romance/angst, Zuko/Katara + Aang/Toph, post-finale but diverges before LoK canon.

Operation: Zutara (REVAMPED) by dtmars – Everyone could see that those two were in love with each other. Everyone except for them. So Toph takes the initiative and fills in for Cupid to give them a little push, while Aang just tags along for the ride. | Teen and Up

Taang One Shots by stitch1830 – A collection of short stories about Toph and Aang that I've had saved in my notes for a few months. Stories are in the ATLA/LOK universe (not canon compliant), and typically revolve around their relationship and family. | Teen and Up

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waywardfacegarden · 4 years

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burning embers

Modern Au: Zuko centric + The Gaang + Zukka + Friendship/Family feels + Angst and Fluff.

Summary: Zuko learns the meaning of love.

Read on Ao3 here.

There’s something so tragically painful about falling in love, they say.

But Zuko wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know what falling in love with someone is, he doesn’t know what it feels like. Love is a concept so alien to him; he can’t even grasp the root of it. He just knows a broken home, the remaining ashes of a devastating, blazing fire that was supposed to be his father’s love.

He doesn’t know what love is. And yet, he understands: the underlying and heart-wrenching agony that comes with loving. The sorrow that comes with it; it is just there, intrinsically linked. It’s something that the small kid—full of unknown love and golden warmth, but also deep, bitter pain—comprehends at the tender age of 11.

It’s just common knowledge for him, the same way he knows the sky is blue and the sun hides at night.

Family. Love. Father.

Those words don’t have meaning, Zuko thinks, lying on his bed one night, still hearing the disappointment in his father’s voice echoing in his ears in the quiet darkness of his room. They’re there, of course. And he knows them. He can say them. But they feel far away, slipping through the space between his fingers, becoming dust that blows away with the chilly wind of an autumn midnight, escaping him before he can place what was there in the first place.

They don’t hold weight. They don’t mean anything. They’re shallow; they just exist, like a couple of letters strewn together, like when you say your name so many times in a row it doesn’t even feel right anymore; but, he supposes only a few people are blessed with their significance, with tasting them in their mouth with something not akin to hate or bitterness or emptiness.

Loneliness. Despair. Dishonor.

Those have meaning. Those have weight, despite being such empty words.

(But they very much taste like something akin to hate, too—and that’s the thing.

Maybe Zuko just doesn’t know anything aside from [self-]hate.)

Family, love, father. They are concepts that come alive to him the same way a phoenix is born.

They rise, awakening from the ashes that the fire within themselves has burned to death; so beautiful, so mystical, so mesmeric and so incredibly fragile and precious and wondrous, like a mythological creature coming back to life after having known its own death.

He learns the words and their meaning the same way his brain starts learning new things and concepts by reading a book; but he doesn’t learn with his mind—even though a part of him knows that this is where knowledge is stored—Zuko learns with his heart (he has always learned things best with his heart; after all, Zuko wears it on his sleeve; he’s emotional, visceral, volatile—his feelings are way too intense, too much that they burn his chest open; he’s always aflame), with his eyes, with his hands. He learns it in every little gesture that’s given to him, in every little crack (that keeps filling and filling and filling) of the time that goes on, in every little drop of ink that is spilled on the parchment where his life is being written.

He learns the words in the way he begins learning his uncle's tea recipes, in the satisfaction and pride he feels when his uncle congratulates him for a job well-done on a warm, quiet Saturday afternoon as he finishes helping cleaning and serving the tables around the teashop, in the way his favorite cup sits next to his uncle's on the kitchen counter in the mornings, full of Zuko’s favorite bubble tea; he learns them in the ugly, endearing, oversized sweater hanging at the back of his closet, the one his uncle gave him in his last birthday; he learns about love in the gentle smiles of weekends, in the singing of the birds outside his room’s window, in the blanket that rests around his shoulders when he is sitting on the comfy couch on a calm Thursday night, dozing off while trying to study for an English test, in the way the nightmares that used to haunt him are tormenting him less and less every time; he learns the meaning of father in his uncle's ridiculous pajamas, full of tiny drawings of cherry blossoms and tea leaves, in his uncle’s obsession with Pai Sho, and in the wise phrases he keeps throwing at Zuko even when he cannot fully understand them.

He learns, little by little, step by step, like a slow fire burning inside his guts.

And it's a weird, strange thing. Zuko learned that fire hurts you, the same way he learned that love does, but somehow, after years of building his new life, it doesn't feel that way anymore.

His uncle is patient with him. Patient as someone who would teach someone else origami or as someone who’s slowly writing a book. He teaches him, sees him fall, stumble and trip over his feet (both, metaphorically and literally speaking) and he’s there when Zuko gets up again.

It’s a nice feeling. Knowing that someone is going to be there, even if you fall. Even when you fail.

His uncle teaches him, the same way he creates a new tea receipt for the menu; carefully, gently, ever so softly. He takes Zuko, the broken child who looks at him through his pain and hatred, and makes him open his eyes. He points out, over and over and over again, that failing is not a bad thing, that love exists and that it doesn't have to hurt, and that if it does, you can heal from it; he teaches him that Zuko is full of it, full of love, he says that he’s always been.

Somehow, it feels a bit like healing. Of course, Zuko is still broken. Probably, a part of him always will be; but, somehow, he doesn't think that being a bit broken is so wrong now.

Friendship was a foreign concept to him, too. Or maybe not, but Zuko never wanted to get involved with it.

Too much trouble.

(Or maybe fear—fear of what it carries, what it holds in its nature; fear of failing, of not being enough, of being left out, of getting too attached.)

But just as Zuko was wrong about so many things in his life, this is not the exception.

He comes to learn that, too.

It’s a different process than with his uncle. Maybe because it’s slower, or maybe because it’s, rather, faster. Maybe because he wasn’t aware he was learning at all.

Zuko doesn’t know exactly when it starts. Can’t pinpoint the exact moment he started getting involved. Not that he cares much about that at this point, but he would like to know.

They kind of adopt him in their group (or, er, gang, as they call it), without Zuko noticing. But to be fair, Zuko doesn’t notice a lot of things.

Toph is a friend of his Uncle, and she lives near the teashop, so she’s around more time than she’s not; she’s loud and kinda rude, and always calls Zuko a dork or a nerd or an idiot, but Zuko realizes he likes when she’s there. Aang comes along sometimes, with his scarily bright smile. There’s also Katara and her big brother, Sokka.

He likes all of them, to his extreme surprise. They’re all good people. Aang is way too kind, Katara may be scary but she’s pretty cool, and Sokka is just a combination of a very, weirdly endearing, smart dumbass, which is, uh, new.

He honestly doesn’t know how it happened, or when it happened, but suddenly he’s tucked under a soft fuzzy blanket in winter, sandwiched in the middle of the three-spot sofa, with Aang almost laying over his lap. He’s almost sitting on Sokka’s right leg, pressing him against the arm sofa, his side overlapping with Sokka’s. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s sitting there, cross-legged, with his right arm fully extended on the back of the sofa, almost like he’s hugging Zuko’s shoulders; he’s practically leaning on Zuko.

His arm and his side are really warm, though. Not as much as Zuko generally is, but it’s… kind of nice.

“Katara, Titanic is a classic, dude. What the hell.”

Zuko takes a sip from his hot chocolate, blowing off the clouds of steam gathering over the cup—the warmth of it is pretty welcomed in his throat, to be honest, while Katara rolls her eyes at her brother.

“I’m not watching that for the fifth time in a month and seeing you and Aang both cry for an hour later after the already three long hours of the movie.”

Sokka looks pretty indignant about Katara’s attitude towards his (probably) favorite movie, which is pretty amusing.

“You’re just a monster,” Sokka says, dramatically, “that’s why you don’t cry.”

Katara rolls her eyes again.

“I don’t know,” Toph says, from the couch closer to the TV, sprawled all comfortably over it. “It’s actually a really funny movie,” she points out, and then draws out her voice. “‘Jack, draw me like one of your French girls’.”

Aang laughs pretty loud, and Zuko smiles at the bad impersonation despite himself.

“Well, My Heart Will Go On is my anthem.” Sokka says, puffing out his chest.

Zuko actually snorts into his cup and Sokka shoots him a look. He remembers the time Aang and Sokka recreated that iconic scene, with Toph singing at the top of her lungs in a ridiculously obnoxious voice. He actually laughed at that.

Sokka seems to read his mind, because after a few moments of staring at Zuko’s face, his entire expression lights up. He grins, eyes sparkling, and starts singing really loud and purposely out of tune. Aang starts laughing and Toph doesn’t waste time on joining Sokka in singing. Even Katara smiles.

A few minutes later of terrible singing, they’re all laughing. Toph is cackling so hard she’s on the floor, and Sokka keeps leaning over him, laughing in his ear. He believes it should be annoying, but instead of that, it’s actually infectious and Zuko laughs a bit harder.

After they calm down, Toph is clutching at her sides and Sokka is wiping tears out of his eyes.

Aang smiles, then, softly and content, and raises a hand in the air, like asking for permission to talk.

“I have an idea.” He says, and turns around to look at him. “Why don’t we just let Zuko decide? He hasn’t chosen anything yet for our Friday movie nights.”

All eyes turn to look at him at that. He stops his movements, mouth hanging open, hot cup halfway to his lips.

“Uh,” he frowns. “Thank you, but, um. Why would I choose? It’s your thing.”

Everyone stares at him like he has two heads, which, okay fair but why.

“What?”

Aang gives him a soft smile, all kind eyes and gentle features, like he’s about to talk to a baby, but before he can say anything, Sokka is putting an arm around his shoulders and leaning all his weight on him, as if they weren’t already close enough.

“This is your thing as much as it is ours, dude.” He says, grinning, “You’re one of us.” He vaunts, proudly, and ruffles Zuko’s hair.

Katara nods, at the same time Toph goes:

“Yup, you’re already in, loser.”

Aang chuckles. “Yes, you’re our friend, Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, stunned.

That’s…

There’s…

That’s… the F-word.

Friend.

Huh? What? How? When did that happen? Huh? Did he miss something in the past few months?

Sokka, completely oblivious to his emotional turmoil, insistently points to the TV while squeezing him. "So, buddy? Don't you think we should watch Titanic to cry and share a couple of very male tears?"

"You only want to watch it because you have a crush on both Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio." Katara accuses.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes, you do! You even still keep that poster of them behind your…"

"Katara!!!!"

Friend.

It’s a nice word.

It tastes like hot chocolate in his mouth on a cold night, it sounds like Sokka’s laugh and Toph’s jokes, and it looks like Aang’s kind eyes and Katara’s nice smile.

It feels like something. It holds meaning. It’s not an empty word. At all.

Sokka’s hand ruffling his hair or over his shoulders, Toph’s nicknames for him, Aang’s offer of help in times he feels like Zuko needs it, Katara’s help with homework and advice on his recipes doesn’t let him forget that. ‘Friend’ is never going to be an empty word.

Friend tastes like hope, like warm food and bear-hugs.

Friend is such a nice word.

The thing with Zuko being generally—and strangely—warm all the time is that summer is a complete nightmare for him.

He's sitting directly in front of the fan at full power, barefoot in just jeans and a light T-shirt, and yet he still feels like he's going to explode. The weather forecast in the morning heralded a heat wave in midsummer, and it's exactly the worst thing in the world that could happen to Zuko's already overheated body. Toph groans beside him, lying with her arms and legs spread like a starfish on the cold ground. It is no comfort to her, however, and Zuko can understand that well.

Katara is looking at something on her phone, fanning herself with a magazine, and Aang remains practically unaffected, just as energetic as ever as he eats the remaining watermelon slices from the bowl they recently filled.

Zuko is wondering if he should go, or if he should fall asleep on the freezing ground that doesn't seem to be freezing at all, when Sokka walks into the living room in his baseball uniform. He has just returned from his morning summer practice; sweat is running down the side of his face, and his shirt is partly sticking to his body from the moisture. He smiles at everyone in greeting before gulping down all that's left of the water on the bottle of his hand. Zuko stares at his Adam's apple bob while he's drinking, and then his eyes trail the trickle of water that slides down his jaw over his desperation to drink all the water so fast. The drop goes down, down, down, dripping over his collarbone and sinking into his neck until it eventually gets lost somewhere inside his shirt. Sokka throws the bottle over the trash can and uses his shirt collar to wipe the water and some of his sweat off his face. Zuko's eyes unconsciously move downward; he can see a line of skin on Sokka's abdomen and stomach.

He swallows. Uh. His mouth is suddenly very dry. He's probably dehydrated. Is he dehydrated? He's starting to feel a little dizzy.

"So? Beloved friends, beloved little sister? Did you miss me? Obviously, you did."

Katara rolls her eyes, but still asks, "How was practice, dumbass?"

"It was cool! I hit twelve curve-balls in a row and sixteen of that weird fastball Suki pitches. Oh! And I'm finally getting the thing about that forkball. Also... woah, Zuko, are you okay?!"

Zuko blinks from where he was staring at Sokka's hair. It's kind of wet. Is that sweat? Shouldn't that be gross? Why is Zuko staring? Does he find it gross? He doesn't think so, but he also can't quite explain why...

"Woah, bud," Sokka says, kneeling in front of him and getting dangerously close to his face. "You're so red, are you having heatstroke or something? Do you feel dizzy?" He leans on his knees and presses a hand to his forehead, pulling up the bangs hanging over it. It feels nice, actually. Sokka's soft hand on his boiling skin feels like fresh water. He kind of wants to lean into it.

He probably does, because Sokka frowns. "Maybe you have a fever..." His mouth presses into a thin line. "Don't you want to take a shower to cool off? I can lend you some clothes, we're about the same height, they'll fit."

Zuko blinks. Huh?

"Here, let me help you." Sokka says, helping him up.

Around an hour later, Zuko feels a lot better, laying with his back on the floor in Sokka's baggy shorts and blue T-shirt with a cartoonish drawing of The Pink Panther. Zuko smiles involuntarily when he looks at it. It smells a bit like Sokka, or at least the detergent he uses. That makes his stomach do weird flips. He's not feeling that hot anymore, but maybe he is getting sick...

"Hey," Sokka tells him, looking at him from above, standing just behind Zuko's head. His toes are barely avoiding touching Zuko's sprawled hair on the floor.

"Hey," Zuko answers back, looking up at Sokka's soft face. His hair is down and still wet from the shower, and a few drops fall on the bridge of Zuko's nose when Sokka hovers over him. Zuko's face scrunches up, more out of involuntary reaction than out of bother, but Sokka chuckles.

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. He uses the towel around his neck to messily dry his hair. "You look a lot better, now."

"Yes," Zuko muses, still a bit mesmerized by Sokka's wet hair. And Sokka's face. "Thanks."

Sokka grins brightly at him. "Sure."

He looks like he's about to say something else, but before he can say anything, Toph groans just a few feet away, sitting now on the couch. "Stop flirting and get a room already; it’s gross. We're here, too."

"What? We weren’t—"

Katara agrees, quietly.

"Hey! I was just worried!" Sokka excuses himself. "Weren't you all? His face was as red as a tomato."

Katara looks up from her magazine and gives him a pointed look, with one elegantly arched brow. Apparently, she doesn't even need to say anything else, because it's enough to make Sokka blush.

Oh.

He's cute, Zuko thinks. And then, oh, I think Sokka is cute. And then Sokka stomps over the kitchen muttering unintelligible things, still a faint blush over his cheeks.

Zuko smiles to himself watching his childish behavior. He is, though. He is cute.

It's raining heavily outside, drops pouring loudly against the asphalt of the sidewalk.

Zuko side-glances at Sokka. Maybe it's because after the course of a year, Zuko has learned to recognize many of Sokka's little gestures, or maybe it's the fact that the boy has been so much into his own mind lately, but Zuko recognizes that way he scrunches up his nose, that wrinkle between his eyebrows, that way his eyes twitch.

“Are you okay?”

He’s asking mostly just to be polite, to be honest; he already knows he’s not. He knows something’s up.

Sokka turns to look at him, and then stares at the rain hitting the glass window of the lonely teashop.

“I’m…” He says, and looks at his hand. Then he presses his mouth into a thin line.

“You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Zuko says, awkwardly, because as much as he cares, he’s still a mess when it comes to social cues. He’s never going to stop being a mess. And terrible at comforting people.

Sokka sees right through him, though, like he always does, and smiles softly at him. His whole face mellows. It kind of makes Zuko’s heart flutter in his chest, like a butterfly flapping its wings.

“I’m…” Sokka tries again, looking at Zuko’s face. At his eyes, at his scar, at his neck. He feels weirdly exposed, but at the same time… He doesn’t. It’s just Sokka. Which means it’s okay. “Scared, I guess.”

Zuko blinks and tilts his head to the side. He’s not sure if he should ask, but…

“Of?”

Sokka gives him a wry smile.

“Of failing? Of disappointing my dad? Of not being enough? I don’t know, I can’t quite pick a single one.”

Sokka’s voice is not quite bitter, but it feels like that, in the air around them. Zuko knows the feeling pretty well.

“You are enough.” Zuko affirms, without a single trace of hesitation in his voice. Because Sokka is enough, in every single aspect, and he shouldn’t feel like any less than that. Zuko’s also aware of what he’s worrying about, and for Zuko, it’s just absurd—Sokka is one the very few people that shouldn’t worry about passing the entrance exam of college at all, he’s crazy smart. He should know that. But, to be fair, Zuko can’t judge him nor scold him for self-doubt when it used to be all that he was, along with his self-hate. So he says it out loud, looking into Sokka’s wide, surprised eyes. “You’re also really smart, Sokka, I’m sure you’re going to ace the entrance exam. You shouldn’t worry.”

Sokka rolls his eyes, but he also adopts that playful-kinda-flirty side of him. It’s painful because Zuko can see the sadness underlying in his voice and body language so clearly. Can see the lack of confidence in every single motion.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I am,” he agrees, “but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. I really believe so. You’re the smartest person I know. You’re very capable of doing whatever you want, so have faith in yourself just like I have faith in you.”

Once he says it, and Sokka blinks once, twice, thrice at him, Zuko feels painfully aware (and painfully embarrassed) of what he just said.

Oh Lord, what did he actually…

“Ah,” Sokka says, and makes a face that Zuko can’t name. “You’re blushing.”

Zuko covers his cheeks with both hands. Sokka is probably right, they’re so warm, but still.

“I’m not.” Still.

Sokka laughs, and raises both eyebrows. “You sure?” He asks, staring pointedly at his face, which only makes him blush harder.

Stupid Sokka.

He must know the effect he’s having on him, because he laughs again, lightheartedly. Well, at least he’s not upset anymore…

“I’m not,” he uselessly and pathetically insists, even when it’s tragically obvious he is. But he has some pride, okay.

Sokka grins, but it’s all devilish. It makes Zuko’s hair stand on end. A chill runs down his spine.

“It’s just hot.”

Sokka smirks. “Sure, you’re always hot.”

“Shut up,” Zuko complains and groans, facing away from him so that he can’t see his blatant embarrassment. Sokka’s natural flirty personality wasn’t that much of a problem back then, but it’s only gotten worse, and Zuko just can’t handle it sometimes. It feels like way too much.

“Ah, but you blush when you’re embarrassed. That’s cute.” Sokka points out, a wide grin on his face. “Imagine being both cute and hot, what a crime.”

He sighs theatrically, and Zuko is very tempted to answer, “shut up, look who’s talking,” but he knows he will just get more embarrassed after saying that. He needs to calm down. So he just grumbles while Sokka laughs.

Then, when Sokka has already calmed down and Zuko can feel his face like normal again, they look quietly at the rain, steadily keeping its pace.

“Zuko,” Sokka says, after some time, and Zuko quirks an eyebrow in reply.

Sokka smiles. “Thank you. For believing me. It means a lot.”

Zuko smiles back. “Of course.”

Zuko notices it one night. (Though, looking back, it’s weird he didn’t notice it before.)

Well, more like, Aang notices and points it out, and then Zuko realizes that what he said is pathetically true, lying in bed at night because he still mulls things over sometimes before going to sleep.

“You know,” Aang had casually said, holding a can of orange juice, sitting next to Zuko on the bleachers at one of Sokka’s practice games. “You stare at Sokka a lot.”

Zuko frowned. “It’s his game, after all. We’re here to watch him,” he had retorted, like it was obvious.

“Well, yes, but I don’t mean only now. You stare at him all the time.”

Zuko didn’t feel like he liked where this conversation was going. Something about his expression must had given him away, or maybe Aang was just too good at reading him now, because he said:

“Wait.” He actually had sounded surprised. “You mean you’re not aware you have a crush on him?”

Zuko’s eyes went wide. “What? I don’t have a crush on him.”

Aang quirked up an eyebrow. Sure, he didn’t need to say.

“I don’t,” he had pressed on.

Aang hadn’t looked any more convinced of what he had said. If anything, he looked more convinced on what he himself had said. Aang had looked at him for a very long period of 1 minute before lightly chuckling and nudging him in the arm with his elbow, smiling brightly at him.

It was weird, but Zuko has gotten better at reading them, maybe just as much as Aang has with him. Maybe that’s why he knows what Aang means with all of that. Admit it when you’re ready.

It’s not like he was trying to deny or hide it. It’s not like he was trying to lie. He just didn’t think Aang was actually right.

But he is. Zuko can’t stop looking at Sokka, all the time. Thinking about him. About the way he smiles, with his hair up, with his hair down, with that denim jacket that fits him in all the right angles, with his baseball cap, ecstatic after he scored a run in the 8th inning.

Sokka, practicing on the field. Grinning widely and openly and hugging him tightly when he aced the entrance exam. Leaning in to taste Zuko’s ice-cream into his own mouth. Ruffling his own messy hair. Wearing those silly cartoon t-shirts. Serenading Zuko with Electric Love and the most ridiculous voice ever on his birthday as a joke. Messy eating. Scrunching up his nose while drinking green tea. Reciting 80% of the Star Wars dialogues by heart. Being obsessed with boomerangs and swords (though not as much as Zuko is with that last one). Biting into the end of his pencil when he’s focused on writing an English essay.

Ahhhhh.

Oh, holy honor.

He has a crush. A crush. Feelings.

When did that happen? Why did that happen? He doesn’t know. Was it because of his warm eyes? His pretty smile? His pretty lips? Was it because he opened up to Zuko, let himself be vulnerable around him, bled his heart out so Zuko could piece it back together? Was it because he’s funny? Charming? Cool? Smart? Astonishingly cute? Was it because he made Zuko feel made out of thin air, sometimes, so raw and exposed but yet so safe, so comfortable in his own skin? ...That is, the others don’t necessarily make him feel unsafe, or uncomfortable. He just feels like he can be all open and vulnerable with Sokka better. Maybe because he opened up to him first, about something so personal like his mom (and Zuko knew about losing a mom, too).

Well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t exactly matter, does it? He’s already in deep.

Zuko rolls over his stomach and sighs, groaning loud into his pillow. Why, why, why, why. It’s not like he even has a chance, so why did he have to…

Ugh.

Feelings are stupid. His heart is stupid.

And the way he falls asleep thinking about Sokka’s laugh is even stupider.

The thing is, because Zuko notices all the little details in Sokka’s gestures and behavior, he also notices the way he acts differently towards… Certain people.

“Me and Yue?” Sokka laughs, and Zuko blinks. He didn’t even mean to ask it out loud. Now, he would just hear the confirmation of what he already knew from Sokka’s lips. How is that any better? Good job, Zuko.

“Nah, man, Suki would kill me if she sees me wooing her girlfriend. Or at least kick me pretty damn hard.” Huh? Zuko blinks again. Huh? So they’re… Sokka and Yue… They’re not…

“And believe me, she’s super strong. She kicked me once and I’ve always regretted eating that last cupcake on the fridge.” Sokka makes a face and shudders, like the mere flashback is enough to make him fear. But then he smiles, in that soft way of his that makes Zuko’s knees go really weak. “And I’m pretty sure Yue is immensely happy with her, too.”

Zuko doesn’t know what to say, so he just oh-so-eloquently utters:

“Ah.”

Sokka seems amused.

“Didn’t you know they were a thing? The PDA is so strong when they’re together, you have to have seen it.”

Well, that was… Zuko just thought they were touchy with each other? Sokka is pretty much touchy with him all the time, but that doesn’t mean they’re a thing.

Well.

“That’s rough, buddy.”

Sokka blinks. “Why?”

Zuko frowns. He tilts his head in confusion. “Because you are… Romantically attracted to her? It must be rough.”

Sokka blinks once, twice, three times. Stares. Then, he throws his head back and cackles, clutching his stomach.

“Dude, what the hell.” He wheezes. “Just say the word crush like normal people.”

“Hmm.”

Then, when he calms down, Sokka eyes Zuko.

“Wait, what?” He says, serious all of a sudden. Or at least, surprised. “Do you really think that?” At Zuko’s lack of response, Sokka looks at him, then at his hands, then at the TV, where the video game they were playing is still on pause. Then, back at Zuko’s face. “No, I don’t have a crush on her. Or on Suki, for that matter.”

Zuko frowns. Sokka must know he doesn’t believe him, because he continues.

“I mean, I did.” He admits. “Back when I met her, when I was, like, 14. But I’m over it, now—Not that she’s not great; she’s awesome and I love her, just… Not in that way. It was just a silly teen-crush, anyway. And Suki is my best friend. We had a thing for a few months like two years ago, but we hit it off so much better as friends. She’s my bi icon, though. And bestest friend.”

“Oh.”

“Besides,” Sokka adds, and eyes him pointedly, “I’m interested in someone else right now.”

Zuko stares. Blinks.

What.

So he does have someone he’s interested in anyway. God, Zuko really doesn’t stand a chance. Why even bothering trying? And it’s not like he knows how to try something, anyway…

From the other corner of the room, Aang shoots him a very cryptic look. Zuko can’t describe what he’s thinking, but he guesses he’s taking pity on him. After all, he knows.

Ah. He really doesn’t like having feelings.

His mind is a cruel thing. It’s what keeps him up at night, what reminds him of all his insecurities, what makes him feel undeserving of love, what keeps throwing image after image into his head of his broken childhood on bad days. It’s what, as much as his heart, knows about his deepest desires, his longing, his yearning and thinks it’s amusing to play with Zuko for a bit.

“Zuko,” Sokka says, with a fragile smile on his face, his voice going ridiculously soft, his eyes warming up, and Zuko’s heart pounds on his chest like big waves crashing on the shore of a lonely beach. “Zuko, I love you.”

It’s kind of—very—criminal the way Sokka makes him feel. The way he makes Zuko’s heart seem like it’s going to burst out of his chest with how fast it beats after hearing just those three words, the way he makes Zuko’s entire soul ache and want, the way he makes him feel so grounded, so him, yet so tiny and delicate, like he’s made out of thin sheets of ice.

Is this how love feels?

Is this how it should feel like?

He wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know what falling in love is. He just knows a broken home, the destructive, neon-like, toxic obsession with power his dad had, instead of any tender form of anything else that can be called love that his dad should have had for his mom, but never did.

Falling in love is made to hurt. Falling in love is destined to make you feel sad, and alone, and unsafe.

Falling in love is a cruel thing. It’s not cut out for weak people, and Zuko is weak. He’s destined to break. He has always been made out of fragile, easy-to-destroy things.

That’s why his mind plays with him all the time.

He wakes up in his bed, opens his eyes to the dark quiet of his room, feels the way his heart beats so hard that he can almost feel it on his throat. And he feels lost. And sad.

He doesn’t even scream. He just lies there, feeling the world becoming smaller, feeling himself becoming smaller.

Lord, he’s royally fucked. Screwed. He knows. He’s destined to break.

There’s something so tragically painful about falling in love, they say.

He’s sitting with Toph leaning back on his right side, on the fluffy couch in Katara and Sokka’s living room, cutting up squares out of colorful paper.

They are both terrible in the kitchen. Something coming from being rich kids, Sokka playfully teased earlier. And he guesses it’s true. Either way, they are terrible—Zuko even burned his own kitchen once while making scrambled eggs (and that was. Not a very good day). Sure, he has tried to help Uncle Iroh a couple of times, and he knows a bit of the basics, but besides preparing tea, he’s lost. He can’t cook to save his life. So when Zuko almost lights a fire to bake cookies and mixes up the recipe for the second time, Katara kicks them out and bans them from the kitchen for the next 4 hours. Toph protests just to be annoying—she doesn’t like cooking at all, she has told him, but she loves annoying Katara, it’s her favorite idle activity. Zuko would be offended, but it’s the smartest choice if they want to finish baking Aang’s birthday cake without setting the kitchen on fire, so it’s fine.

Besides, this way he can steal a few glances at Sokka, as he hangs up the decorations he and Toph are making. The muscles under his shirt flex when he raises his arms above his head, his messy hair down from its ponytail, falling over his face when he moves a bit to the left, a line of the smooth skin of his back making its way to Zuko's curious, avid eyes.

Zuko swallows.

Toph sighs heavily and throws her head back. “So, are you planning to make a move any time this century or are you a loser?”

Zuko eyes her, coming out of his stupor, confused. “What?”

Toph smirks. “Right, you’re always a loser, my bad.”

Zuko blinks. Not because of Toph calling him a loser, but because, for a second, he really doesn’t get what she means.

Then, when he does, he buries his face into his hands and groans.

“Even you know?”

Toph laughs. "Yes, idiot, it's stupidly obvious.” She pats his arm. “I can see it and I'm blind, you know."

Zuko groans again. He’s in physical pain right now. "How?"

She shrugs. "I don’t know. Maybe the way you say his name. Or talk about him."

Zuko feels a bit of panic.

What? Is he that obvious? How does he say Sokka’s name?

"His name?"

"Yeah,” Toph confirms, nodding exaggeratedly, “stupidly sappy. It's gross."

"Oh my god."

She laughs again, loudly, because his suffering is apparently amusing. "You also talk about him a lot," she chuckles, "and sigh every time you see him. At least that’s what I assume, given that he’s in the room and you keep sighing like a 12-year-old girl in love. Pinning all the way.”

Zuko wants to die. He seriously wants to die. Maybe he should just tell Sokka he likes him, so when he rejects him, Zuko can just die a quick, albeit painful, death.

Toph nudges at his arm, with her typical abnormal strength for someone her age, but she doesn’t mean any harm. “So?” She asks, again. “Are you planning to make a move or not?"

Zuko sighs, "I can't do anything, he likes someone else."

Toph kind of stops where she’s fumbling with a couple of paper sheets. She then turns around and makes this face, where she’s scrunching up her nose and frowning like she just smelled something sour, or like when she’s deeply confused. "Did he say that?"

"Yes."

"Did Sokka seriously tell you that?"

Zuko’s confused at Toph’s relentless insistence. "...Yes?"

Toph’s face goes back to normal, but there’s something about the way she continues to hum that makes it seem like she still thinks Zuko is an alien, or something.

"You must have misunderstood him—which wouldn’t be a surprise, to be honest." She says the last part in a whisper, but he still hears her. That’s probably what she wanted anyway, but it’s not like he gets it. What does that mean? Zuko gets Sokka. That’s one of the few things he’s really proud of. Did he just think that he got Sokka while, all this time, he actually didn’t?

No. He understands Sokka. Sokka himself has told him that.

"No, I didn't. And I don't have a chance if he likes someone else, so I might as well not even try."

Toph looks mad. "You're super pessimistic, dumbass."

"Hmm."

She sighs, looking deeply tired and frustrated, like Zuko has completely worn her out. Then, she raises her fist and punches him. Hard.

Ouch.

Zuko yelps, and rubs at his sore arm. “What was that for?” he grumbles.

She frowns. “To punch some sense into you, big oblivious idiot!" Toph hums a low, guttural sound in the back of her throat, like she’s a feral dog trying to threaten a pedestrian. “Just try, at least. Everyone is kind of getting tired of your pinning, too."

"Ah." Everyone?

"Full offence."

"Ah."

“Even Katara. The only reason she hasn’t intervened yet is because she says it’s not her business to push you, but I don’t think her reasoning is gonna last long.”

Katara too!? Oh, no.

Zuko seriously wants to die.

Eventually, things go on.

Zuko’s “crush” doesn’t go away. If anything, it just grows and grows and grows until it becomes almost unbearable. But he still can’t say anything.

“Zuko.”

“Hmm?”

“You know,” Sokka says, looking at him with feign innocence, sitting with his hands upwards behind him in Zuko’s room, “that looks heavy, want me to hold it for you?”

Zuko frowns. He looks up from his work to give Sokka a confused look. “What is, my pen?”

Sokka gives him that little, playful smile—the one that is so incredibly hot for some reason Zuko can’t understand. His eyes gleam, even more than they do all the time.

“Nope,” he says, and his smile grows an inch, “your hand.”

Zuko blinks. Sokka flirting with him is nothing new, that’s why he manages to hold back his blush a bit and remain calm, even when he’s a bit dying inside.

He is just trapped between telling him, “god, I wish you were flirting with me for real,” and, “please stop doing it, it’s not good for my heart,” and, “If only you knew how much I really want to hold your hand”, but neither of those options are actually. Something viable.

“Are you flirting with me?” He asks instead, knowing the answer already.

Sokka would laugh, brush it off, and say something like, “ah, but you didn’t blush this time,” and let it go.

He doesn’t, though.

What he does, instead, is shrug and look at Zuko’s textbook, like he’s completely uninterested in the conversation.

Huh.

But then he speaks up again.

“Have been for the past year and a half or so, but thanks for noticing.” He answers.

Zuko blinks. He’s tempted to answer, “yeah, I know, which is a cruel, cruel thing to do, by the way, given how my heart just wants to escape out of my chest and go with you every time you do it,” or something equally playful to play it down like they always tend to do, but… for some reason, this time it feels… Real.

Maybe he should just laugh.

He doesn’t, though, and, “What?” is what comes out of his mouth.

Sokka looks up. “I said that I’ve been doing it for a year and a half or so, thank you for finally noticing.”

Zuko doesn’t understand. He’s not following the conversation at all. “Wait.”

“Ahh,” Sokka sighs, “honestly, if you didn’t notice by the end of the month, I would have felt deeply embarrassed. I was starting to think I lost my charm and I didn’t know how to flirt.”

“Well, that was a terrible pick-up line,” Zuko can’t help but retort, and like he wasn’t mildly-insulted, Sokka grins at him.

“But it worked for you, didn’t it?” He teases, leaning on Zuko’s personal space, “it made you feel something.”

Zuko frowns. “How would you know?”

Sokka stares. “Your face.”

“My face?”

“I can see it. In your face.”

Zuko covers his mouth, frowning. He can feel his own heart race.

Sokka is still way too close.

“You can…?”

“Yup.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Zuko says, blinking. “That means—are you—are you flirting with me? For real?”

Sokka quirks both eyebrows. “Yes...?”

“But you—you…”

“Zuko, I don’t know where you got the idea, but I don’t flirt with anyone aside from you—at least, I haven’t done it in a long time. So yes, I am actually flirting with you.”

Zuko feels like he just got hit in the head. “Why?”

Sokka blinks. “Because I want to?”

“But why do you want to?”

Sokka shoots him a look. “Zuko,” he says, slowly, “I like you. I thought that was obvious already.”

Zuko blinks. “You have… romantic feelings for me?”

Sokka laughs, amused. “Yeah, Zuko, I have ‘romantic feelings’ for you.”

Zuko blinks again. He’s blinking too much. “So all this time… it was real… when you said… and that time you also said… and… oh.”

Sokka smiles, softly, and ruffles Zuko’s hair. It makes him blush. His heart might also not even work at this point, if it wasn’t for the fact that he can clearly hear it thundering in his ears.

Why is Sokka so calm? Zuko’s about to pass out.

“Katara is right, I’m dumb.”

Sokka grins. “Toph thinks so, too.”

“Toph thinks everyone is dumb.”

“Fair,” Sokka answers; he’s still grinning so wide. God, Sokka is so pretty. “Though I think she only calls us dumb, not that she means it.”

“Mmm.”

He’s so unfairly distracting, too. Zuko can’t stop looking at him.

“Wait,” He says, suddenly realizing something, “so you knew that I—that I—had feelings for you, too?”

Sokka looks at his lips when he talks, and Zuko has to concentrate hard to not straight up pass out from shock and his heart racing so fast it might give him an attack. Has he done that before? He would have noticed, right? Sure, Zuko looks at Sokka’s lips a lot instead than at his eyes, but he would have noticed if Sokka did it, too.

… Right?

He’s starting to feel dizzy. Is he dreaming? Is any of this real at all?

“Noticed it a while ago, yeah. That’s why I’m not freaking out that you noticed my flirting 100 years later.”

For a moment, Zuko is able to set aside his internal emotional turmoil and state of panic, if only to complain.

“Hey!” He frowns. “Wait—”

“You have said that a lot.”

“Wait,” Zuko repeats, just to be annoying, “if you… liked me, and knew that I liked you back, why didn’t you… make a move?”

“Like asking you out? I tried to, but you’re too oblivious.”

“Huh?” Zuko utters. What does that even mean? He’s not—well, he is, maybe, just a bit, but. “Well, if you knew that, you could have been more straightforward, you know!”

Sokka smiles, then shrugs.

“I guess we’re both dumb.”

Zuko feels his lips curling up, not able to contain all his happiness anymore, his brain catching up with the last 20 minutes of his life.

Holy shit, Sokka likes him. Sokka likes him. Him. Zuko. As in, romantically speaking.

Oh.

“I like you, Zuko.” Sokka says, as if Zuko’s brain didn’t shut down already. He reaches out and slides his hand on the table Zuko was previously working, the tip of his fingers touching Zuko’s. “So can I finally, please hold your hand?”

Zuko might pass out for real, but before that, he finally, finally, finally takes Sokka’s hand into his own.

It feels even better than in his dreams.

He feels like burning up, like all of his body is setting itself on fire.

Sokka’s hand is warm, so warm, and soft, so soft, and makes Zuko’s heart flutter like delicate flower’s petals in the wind.

Sokka’s thumb brushes over his knuckles; Sokka’s lips turn into a bright smile, like he’s been wanting to do that since forever.

It feels like home.

When they tell their friends they’re dating, Yue is the first one to say something.

“You mean you weren’t dating before?”

“Shocking, right,” Katara deadpans, but then she smiles, genuine. “I’m happy for both of you.”

(Although remembering that minutes later doesn’t make her any less scary, when she decides to corner him out of the bathroom and put a steady hand on his shoulder, feign-sweet smile on her face, and say with a weirdly off-calm voice that, if he ever dared to hurt Sokka on purpose, she was going to break all the 206 bones on his body.)

Toph grins brightly and kicks him enthusiastically on the side with a loud “Well-done, loser!” while Aang jumps on Zuko’s back and clings to him like a koala.

“That’s awesome, guys! Be happy!”

Zuko smiles.

“Finally, I won’t have to hear Sokka’s pinning all the time,” Suki quips, like she’s tired and utterly uninterested, but even the happiness is evident in her voice.

Sokka still complains. “Hey! I had to hear you be head-over-heels for Yue for months, too.”

“It wasn’t months for you, though.” Suki deadpans, but then her face goes all soft, “I’m kidding, So, I’m really happy for you two.”

Sokka smiles, and she gets up from where she’s cuddling Yue on the sofa to hug Sokka tightly, grinning wide, and then look at Zuko (stumbling with a happily laughing Aang on his back and Toph annoyingly ruffling his hair like a proud little sister) and whispers something in Sokka’s ear.

Zuko is glad that he’s still looking at Sokka from the corner of his eye, because he catches him blushing after that.

He’s cute.

Suki laughs. Sokka frowns, still blushing, and when he catches Zuko watching, he blushes harder.

He’s really cute.

Zuko smiles softly, and Sokka blinks, once, twice, before smiling back.

The cutest.

“Zuko.”

Zuko hums, but doesn’t look up from his work.

“Zukoooo, darling, love of my life.”

Zuko is used to it by now. To Sokka calling him pet-names like those. Of hearing Sokka say he’s cute, or hot, or smart, or witty, or pretty. It still makes his heart flutter, though. Just as Sokka’s laugh does. It still makes him blush sometimes.

(It’s funny because Sokka is the same way—or mostly the same. Zuko said he looked really hot after a baseball game once and Sokka almost died on the spot. He blushed like mad, but after he calmed down, he couldn’t stop bragging about Zuko calling him ‘hot’.

“Look at you, flirting shamelessly with me! You’re all grown up!” and, “I shouldn’t be near Zuko if I’m wearing my baseball uniform, he’ll get a boner,” and a lot of more phrases.)

“Hm?”

“You are—” Sokka sing-songs, and crosses his arms over Zuko’s textbook. He puts his chin over his forearms and looks up at Zuko’s face, grinning, and Zuko would probably be a bit annoyed that he’s not letting him finish his essay if it weren’t for the fact that he’s Sokka. His, ahem, boyfriend.

“I am…?”

“You are,” he repeats, and his smile grows bigger. Zuko thinks about kissing him; Zuko thinks about kissing him all the time. But, to be fair, he used to dream about that, just as much as he used to dream about them holding hands. And just as if he read Zuko’s mind, Sokka reaches out and holds his right hand; gently, like all of Sokka’s touches. It feels so nice, Zuko never wants to let go. “You are pulchritudinous.”

Eh?

Zuko tries to smile, but Sokka looks at him like he’s looking at a cute baby and throws his head back, still close and still holding his hand.

“You’re adorable.”

“What…?” Zuko is sure he looks as puzzled as he feels; he once caught his reflection in the mirror while playing Scrabble with Sokka and therefore knows how he must look. For some reason, Sokka finds it extremely cute. “What does that mean?”

Sokka laughs again.

Zuko narrows his eyes into slits. Or, maybe Sokka’s just making fun of him. (Not in a bad way, of course, Zuko knows. Sokka never means any harm, but he sure as hell loves teasing Zuko all the time.)

“Are you insulting me?”

Sokka wipes tears from his eyes and looks at Zuko with such a sweet face that it kinda makes Zuko stumble, even when he’s sitting.

His heart flutters alive, his face grows warm. He wants to kiss Sokka.

Sokka does, though, pulling gently at his hand and softly pressing his lips into Zuko’s wrist. He grins up at him.

“You’re adorable.”

(Later, when he’s waiting for a toast on Uncle Iroh’s kitchen, still barefoot, decked out in his pajamas and half-asleep, he finally finds what he thinks is the correct word using the search function of his phone—after 20 lame attempts of trying and failing at remembering—and pronouncing correctly—the right word.

He clicks on the dictionary tab, reads over the meaning, stumbles over, slips and falls flat on his ass.

He almost sets his kitchen on fire for the second time.)

Zuko is bad at flirting. He knows. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, hard, and sometimes, sometimes, he succeeds (conscious and unconsciously).

Or maybe Sokka is just too easy to fluster (even when Sokka says it’s the other way around; even when that’s actually, probably, just a bit, true.)

Either way, Zuko basks happily in seeing Sokka get all flustered. It makes him even cuter than he already is.

(Whipped, Toph would draw out, mockingly sing-song.

And, well, maybe he is.)

Kissing Sokka is like setting himself on fire. Like burning up alive, but not in the bad sense. Not in the way he was burned as a little kid.

Kissing Sokka is like sitting near a campfire when you’re feeling cold; like standing on the edge of a cliff, feeling your chest contract; like tucking yourself in a warm blanket, with fuzzy socks and drinking your favorite drink, while hearing your favorite song. It’s like waking up on a good day, like basking in the sun at twilight, like taking a warm shower after a long day.

He feels too much, way too overwhelmed, even with just a brush of lips.

Kissing Sokka is a blessed thing.

There’s something that comes alive in his chest at the same time their lips touch. It blossoms under his ribcage, spreads over his chest, warms up all the way up to his throat. Beating, growing, marveling in every fiber of his being. Maybe that’s what love is—maybe that’s what Zuko has been searching for all this time; this connection, this overwhelming feeling, this deep, raw, unfiltered emotion, coming off him through waves of desperation for more.

He can’t be sure. But even if it wasn’t something he has looked out for, the discovery of it still feels like a sacred thing.

It’s like watching cherry blossoms falling on the street for the first time, like falling asleep on the comfortable side of your bed after a tiring day, it’s coming back home—or to what home should feel like.

It’s something delicate, at first. Zuko doesn’t have any experience, so he just lets himself feel as Sokka presses his lips softly into his own, carding his long fingers into Zuko’s hair.

Zuko feels an electric chill run down his spine, where Sokka’s fingertips—from the hand that’s not on his hair—make a slow path down. He can feel them burning, even through his clothes, even when Sokka’s hand is not that warm.

But it feels like that.

Zuko breathes shakily, moves his lips experimentally, feeling Sokka’s smile against his mouth.

He wants to do something, so he leans in, feeling Sokka’s eyelashes tickling his cheekbones, feeling Sokka’s thumb under his jaw, angling his head in a better position, feeling himself become aflame. He wants to touch Sokka. He really wants to touch Sokka.

So he does.

He uses one hand to gently touch Sokka’s wrist—the one Sokka’s using to keep Zuko’s head up—and, carefully, tentatively, he wraps his fingers around it, caresses the skin like he wants to print a topographic map of it into his mind.

Sokka makes a low, appreciative sound, and Zuko feels so happy it should be embarrassing.

Sokka has his hair down, and Zuko wants to touch it so much because he loves Sokka’s hair. Sokka’s hair is so pretty—Sokka is so pretty—so he goes for it. He brushes his fingers on Sokka’s shoulder, touches the strands of brown hair that lie there, moves his fingers to the nape of his neck. Zuko does this slowly, he wants to feel everything and he’s not going to rush, not after how long he’s wanted this.

He cradles his head with his hand, touches and touches and touches. He pulls at his hair, lightly, and his hand goes down just a bit; the skin of Sokka’s neck under his fingertips is warm, and so soft. He can feel the gentle echo of his heartbeat thundering in the tender curve of his jaw.

Just then, Sokka’s thumb brushes on his bare clavicle, and Zuko hisses, feeling like he’s on fire. Feeling like he’s become burning embers.

It’s just—too much, and at the same time, not enough—he wants more.

He has always been sensitive, but it’s different now. It’s like all his senses are turned on—he’s hyper-aware of everything around him—of Sokka’s hands, of Sokka’s steady, fast heartbeat under his open palm, of Sokka’s smell, of Sokka’s warm mouth, of Sokka’s soft skin, of the way Sokka keeps mumbling his name, softly against his lips or when he breaks apart to breath. He touches Sokka’s face, Sokka’s arms, Sokka’s neck; breathes his name into his own mouth, makes sure Sokka knows how much he wants this, how much he’s dreamed of this: of kissing him, of him kissing him back.

It feels too good to be even real—just as Sokka always makes him feel, even when they’re not kissing.

He might as well die there.

It wouldn’t be a bad way to go, though.

Linked, bare soul to bare soul, with the prettiest, smartest, kindest boy he’s ever met.

There’s something so tragically painful about falling in love, they say. But as he sees Sokka laughing in front of him because of some ridiculous joke Toph made, holding Zuko’s hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world, he can’t help but think that falling in love is anything but painful.

Sokka turns around, catches him staring and grins, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

Zuko smiles, thinking just how much he loves Sokka, how much he loves his life, how much he loves his uncle, how much he loves his friends, how much he loves being alive, being there, curled up with Sokka on his couch, watching a stupid rom-com movie on Sokka’s cell-phone screen, sharing earphones with his boyfriend. Being there, in the house that he shares with his uncle—his real dad—in the house that he has come to call home. Being there, feeling safe in Sokka’s arms, with Toph hearing music on the TV, while Aang and Katara and Suki and Yue sleep, sprawled there and there all over his living-room.

“I love you,” Zuko tells Sokka, like he just revealed the biggest secret of the universe.

Love.

He feels the word on his tongue, and it tastes sweet. It tastes like the color of Sokka’s eyes, like the tone of Sokka’s laugh, like all of Sokka’s smiles—the gentle one, the soft one, the playful and flirty one, the wide one—all of them. Love tastes like Sokka holding his hand while they go for a walk, like Sokka’s voice when he talks about what he likes, like Sokka’s proud eyes after scoring a run, after Zuko shows him his grades. It tastes like a lot of things he can’t name, like the way Sokka says his name, like the way Sokka makes him feel, like that little mole under Sokka’s jaw, like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles with the setting sun of the beach, like the way his fingertips feel against Zuko’s neck. Like the way he looks at Zuko like he’s not broken, like he’s the best thing that ever existed, like his scar is beautiful and all of Zuko’s failures don’t matter to him because he’s him, and that is enough. Like Zuko is more than enough, and how he loves that he’s more than enough to Zuko, too.

“I love you,” Zuko says again, in a low voice, and it feels real. It has meaning. It’s not an empty word at all.

For some reason, he feels like tearing up a bit.

Sokka’s face mellows, softens; he brushes his thumb under Zuko’s left eye, just at the edge of his scar, and his eyes become impossibly warm. Zuko wants to kiss all of his face; he wants to taste all of Sokka’s softness on his own lips.

There, in the quiet of Zuko’s living-room, Sokka smiles, and Zuko thinks he’s the most bewitching, stunning, ineffably beautiful being.

It feels like something ethereal. Sokka smiles and Zuko feels blessed to exist.

“I love you, too,” Sokka answers, like he’s sharing one of the secrets of the universe, too, like he’s never told anyone anything more true, and ever so gentle.

Zuko smiles and kisses him.

Falling in love is a blessed thing.

#zukka #zukka fic #atla #avatar the last airbender #my writing #... this is my contribution to the atla/zukka fandom #please let me know what do you think in the comments/tags/ao3!!!!!!!!#have a lovely day and thanks for reading :')

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qveensbury · 6 years

Text

the honey heiress

t/w: mention of domestic violence & death, no actual description.

the episode of B99 with Sterling got me a-thinking

“She’s in Interrogation Room B.” Captain laid a folder on Zuko’s desk as she walked past.

The Honey Heiress case was a trail the 74th Precinct stopped chasing. The Kuruk syndicate grew out of anti-war and anti-oppression sentiment, educating and equipping citizens to undermine the local politics. A decade under a Northern cousin led it from gray political action to organized crime. The family went underground when Katara Kuruk staged a coup and took control.

If Katara was a comet falling to earth, Zuko was an oak tree taking root. His grandfather and father had a heavy hand in the local corruption. His Uncle Iroh ensured Zuko chose his own path apart from family expectations. Zuko was one of the youngest detectives in the city with an impressive number of collars.

Reading over the case files from the Kuruk family investigation, Zuko started to notice a pattern and the Captain let him take a crack at it.

“Ms. Kuruk,” he greeted her, closing the door behind him.

“Detective. Am I being charged with anything?”

“We just have a few questions.”

Zuko looked up from his folder. He’d seen Katara in old photos, long braids and hair loops, chubby cheeks and wide smiles.

Now, she was pixie cuts and burgundy lipstick, almost the color of blood.

Katara smiled. “Is being attractive a crime now, Detective?”

Zuko shook himself out of it. “We’d--”

“We? Do we have an audience?”

“Sergeant June is watching,” he answered quickly. “No if you could--”

“Hi Sergeant!”

Zuko pursed his lips together and began to count backwards from five. This would be career defining Ryuku. Just take a step back. If you can corner her on this incident, you could turn this case around.

“We have some pictures. We’d like you to identify.” He placed them for her to see.

Katara glanced at them and returned her focus to Zuko.

“Can you tell me what these are?” Zuko prompted.

“It looks like some jewelry. A ring and some bracelets.”

“Do you recognize anything more?”

“These were a popular design, Detective. This happens a lot in women’s fashion. One designer puts out a product and everyone copies it.” She picked up the picture, “I couldn’t identify which designer from pictures.”

“They were found on a Hayato Watanabe when the paramedics responded to a 911 call. They found him dead.”

Katara laid the photo down and leaned forward to rest her chin in her hand. “And, how do you think I fit in?”

“Your fingerprints were found on the bracelets. Care to explain how that could have happened?”

She frowned before realization dawned on her face. She snorted. “Fingerprints from a college protest still in the system, huh? Do you have a picture of Mr. Watanabe?”

Zuko pulled the one from the autopsy.

“Oh this particular speck of dust,” Katara spat. She grinned, pushing hair behind her ear and sitting back. “What can I tell you? I know his wife, probably where the little weasel got the jewelry. I gave his wife a Joo Dee set for her birthday. She was planning on moving soon.”

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Watanabe?”

She rolled her eyes. “Right after I convinced his wife to leave him. He told me to get out of his house and to never come back. Three months ago.”

Two months before the accident. “Did you listen?”

“Yes.”

“When did you last see Mrs. Watanabe?”

“Last week. I helped arrange for her move and checked in on her and her kids at the new place.”

“And where were you on the night of April 4th?”

“At the Yangchen scholarship reception.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes.

“How did he die?” Katara examined her nails.

“Car accident. He hit a pole.”

“How do I fit in?”

She’s mocking me. He counted backwards from five. “We haven’t ruled out foul play.”

“Was there alcohol in his system?”

Zuko sat back crossing his arms. “Why? Is there information you have about Mr. Watanabe was doing that night?”

“And why would I know that?” Katara cocked her head to the side.

Zuko didn’t answer letting his face become neutral. He looked at his files for his next angle. Something had to be there.

Mr. Watanabe was the fifth middle aged man to go missing in the past year with some ties to the Kuruk family, specifically Katara. The first four hadn’t turned up. He was the first. And hopefully, the first thread to taking down the Kuruk syndicate.

“Can I ask another question?” She waited a beat. “What are your thoughts on domestic violence?”

Zuko froze. His entire body coiled. He lifted his head slowly reigning in every impulse.

100, 99,

Katara spoke again when he hit 75. “A cop against DV. That’s rare.”

“Are you making fun of me, Ms. Kuruk?”

“I don’t joke about domestic violence, Detective. Especially when it kills so many women who look like me.” Rage filled her eyes. The kind of look Zuko expected when they discussed Watanabe.

She’s the same age as Azula.

And how old Mom was when she married Dad.

“I don’t joke about what I’ve survived.”

Katara looked at his scarred eye.

“The police do a horrible job of protecting women from domestic violence. Don’t get me wrong. Men are victims, too.”

“We--,” Zuko tried to interrupt.

“The courts are even worse. They don’t give any protection after she’s been abandoned and isolated, battered. She sees the chance to escape and she takes it.” Katara scoffed. “The few that muster the courage to kill their abusers largely end up in jail. And, they’re not safe from the same abuse they tried to escape there either. The abuse in prisons are inescapable. The courts seem to say ‘You have evidence that your partner was abusive and police record demonstrates you feared for your life. But we’d rather you die than your abuser. So 5 years for manslaughter.’ It’s a broken system.”

Zuko didn’t get it. What’s she getting at?

Katara leaned forward, “There needs to be a better way.” She seemed to answer.

The door to the interrogation room swung open.

“Katara! What did I tell you about talking to the police before I get to the precinct?”

“Counsel for Ms. Kuruk is here, Detective Ryuku.”

A short women with alabaster skin and a loose top bun entered the room. Her baton swung in an arc as she crossed her arms. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Sugar Queen?” She stared at Zuko.

“Toph, I’m over here.” Katara responded, smiling.

“This isn’t a joke,” she spun around. “Why do you pay me if you don’t take my legal advice?”

“Got it, got it counselor. I promise I said nothing self-incriminating. And I even made a friend.”

“Keep joking and I’ll raise my fee.”

Katara snorted.

“Are you pressing any charges against my client, Detective?”

“No,” Zuko sat back.

“Is she free to go?”

“Be my guest,” he replied.

“Thank you. Let’s go, Sugar Queen.”

Katara stood up and flashed a grin at Zuko. “Good day, Detective. Good luck on finding leads in the case. I do hope they’re giving you more interesting work than a car accident.”

“Thank you for your concern,” he grumbled.

She stopped in the door threshold and turned to Zuko. She glanced back at where her lawyer was taking brisk steps toward him.

His heart stopped when she came closer, leaning in. Her eyes were overwhelmingly blue.

“The bar he went to,” she began low. “Look into the family that owns it. I’ve got enemies, just like you.”

“Katara! Let’s go.”

“Don’t make me regret helping you.” Her eyes scanned his face before walking out.

“Why did you help his wife? He was abusing her, wasn’t he.”

“I don’t turn my back on people who need me.” She answered over her shoulder.

AN: Call it a reverse role AU/mob AU/modern painted lady AU. Did you spot my anger at the American justice system’s failure to protect female victims of domestic violence and the shortcomings of the battered women’s defense?????

this is what i had in mind for Katara’s look

#zutara fanfiction #zutara AU #the honey heiress #me: lol this will be a 300 word drabble #also me: writes three single spaced pages #also me: wants to write more of this AU #someone help #me: hometown glory is gonna be my last multichaptered fic for a while #also me: thinking of different shenanigans for them to get into #🙃#domestic violence tw

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years

Text

The Hunt

Modern AU where Zuko and Azula are cryptid hunters and go off chasing the Loch Ness monster. Oh, and Zhao is there.

A ripple on the surface had Zuko gripping his gun with a new sense of urgency.

“Aye laddy, Ah don’t think that’s gonna help.” Zhao muttered.

Azula followed his gaze to a particularly murky spot in the water. Either it was naturally ominous like that or something had kicked up the mud and seaweed below. With her gaze never leaving the murk, she fumbled through her bag. At last her fingers brushed over a lens. With a still unwavering stare, she cleaned the lens on her shirt and held the camera out. She messed with it for a moment or two, zooming in and out trying to find an optimal focus.

“Can you put that away!?” Zuko snapped. “We’re not here to take pictures this time. We’re here to get rid of that thing once and for all!”

“Get rid of it?” Azula asked as she snapped her picture.

“Kill it, lass.” Zhao clarified.

“I know what he meant.” Azula grumbled. “Killing it was never part of the plan.”

“It’s what we brought ye here tae do.” Zhao shrugged.

Zuko nodded in agreement. “That’s what I came to do. I didn’t sail all the way to Scotland to gawk at the thing.”

Azula rolled her eyes; once again the siblings had two entirely different objectives. For Zuko it was always kill, kill, kill. Hunt and kill, since he couldn’t bring their mother back, he would go out of his way to make sure no other family suffered a loss like their own. Of course, sometimes, he went overboard. “Just because it’s mysterious and hard to come by doesn’t mean that…”

“Yes it does!” He cut in.

She didn’t know why she even bothered. She always did have a soft spot for the monsters they pursued. Perhaps it was because, for the better part of her life, she had always been told that she was one of them. Frankly, Azula came along on the hunts mostly for the journey, as corny as that sounded. Zuko adored the fame and glory that came with conquering the town terror and Azula enjoyed the intellectual acclaim that came from studying the remains and the behavioral patterns the cryptids exhibited in life. She enjoyed seeing her photos in the glossy pages of various nature magazines, and sometimes featured on the cover. If she was being honest, it was an odd change of pace; usually she coveted the thrill of the conquer and Zuko reveled in beauty of it all.

Azula glanced at the photo she had just taken, every tiny bubble beneath the surface captured and rendered in perfect HD. She squinted at the photo, noticing for the first time that a shape blotted the murk.

“It were probably a trick of the mist.” She heard Zhao mutter.

“Speaking of…why did you insist that we try to find this thing in the fog? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait for clearer weather?”

“Nessie doesn’t like to show ‘erself in the sunlight. Ah only ever see ‘er in the mist.”

As their argument continued, Azula peered over the deck—if something so small could even be called that. The sandy cloud beneath the water seemed to swirl as though more dust was being kicked up. The same thing that was responsible for the peculiar motion darted deeper into the water, where a visual was even harder to come by. For a long moment the water was still save for the bobbing of their boat. The underwater cloud dispersed revealing a coiled indent in the sand. Azula took another quick picture. “Zuko.”

“It ain’t too rainy, ye just be a weakling, lad.” Zhao declared.

“Alright, you tell me what you see out there.” He pointed at an extraordinarily dense patch of fog.

A few feet ahead the water churned and seemed to split. What little light pierced through the mist, glinted off of whatever was emerging. “Zuko.” Azula repeated with a hint more urgency, but not enough concern to put the camera down. This could be her one chance to get the perfect snapshot, to provide definitive proof…

“Ah ken see a buncha trees.” Zhao replied.

“Those aren’t trees they’re large rocks.”

“They’re trees, ye arse.”

The creature began to rise, slowly and gracefully. It’s motions tantalizing Azula. She took another picture, just in case she somehow managed to miss her shot. From what she could see in the gloomy half-light, the creature was black in color with a green sheen when the light hit it just right. The texture, from what she could perceive…smooth. It could have passed for an eel if it wasn’t so massive and didn’t have such an impressive maw. “Zuko, this is important.” She spoke louder.

Zuko threw his hands into the air, “The sun could be beaming red-hot into my eye sockets, I’d still be have better luck sighting Nessie than I do right now!”

By now, Nessie was well and roused by their dispute. Her slender neck rose completely from the water. She could faintly make out what looked like a dorsal fin. The creature opened its mouth to reveal something akin to a set of shark teeth. The fog curled ominously around her long neck. With a half satisfied and half horrified expression, Azula took her magazine worthy shot.

“You’ll have a better chance of sighting her if you turn around and look!” Azula hollered at full volume.

Zhao spared her a backwards glance, “Eh…what’s the lass fussin’ aboot?”

In one final display of immaturity, Zuko looked right at the sea monster and said pointedly to Zhao, “I don’t know I can’t see it through the mist.”

And the Loch Ness Monster charged. It dove back beneath the waves and charged. Azula found herself thankful that she had come prepared for the worst. She locked her camera away in its waterproof case. “I told you I’d need it eventually.” She stated smugly. Zuko had only been complaining that it was a waste of a good hundred bucks since she purchased it. As Nessie slammed into their boat she clutched the case protectively.

“Lassie, get yer priorities taegether.” Zhao remarked.

The boat rolled again with the collision of the beast’s body. This time a decently large dent was placed put in it’s steal haul.

“Still don’t want to kill it?” Zuko asked.

“Not if we don’t have to.” Azula frowned in concentration as she fought to get the boat’s engine whirring again. Unlike herself, Zhao didn’t seem all that prepared for this endeavor. She looked at the dashboard. “You didn’t happen to bring any extra fuel did you?”

“Int it much left, but Ah goat some.” Zhao rummaged through his belongings.

“Hurry up and find it!” Zuko grimaced as Nessie landed a third strike. He took hold of his gun again and cocked it. He ignored, Azula’s word of protest and took aim. He fired a shot, where he’d last spotted the creature.

“You’re just going to make her angry.” Azula cautioned. “We won’t stand a chance then.”

“If I hit the right spot…” Zuko started.

“We’re not killing it!” Azula took hold of his arm. The girl couldn’t fathom taking such a one of a kind animal out of the world.

“It’ll kill us.”

The worst thing was that she couldn’t refute that line of reasoning. Other than pointing out that they had picked a fight in Nessie’s territory, but she very much wanted to escape with her life and her camera. Reluctantly she released her hold.

Zuko steadied his gun once more only to have his nearly perfect alignment stolen by another blow. This time the boat overturned. The option to right it once more was stolen by Nessie’s stubby but powerful tale coming down on it with a vengeance.

“Ah shite.” Zhao yelled as he found himself dipping beneath the waves.

“Shut up and swim.” Azula instructed. For her it was easier said than done with the extra weight of her camera. But she’d be dammed if she let their efforts go completely to waste. She scanned the water for a chunk of the boat or any large sea debris. Some distance down the lake she spotted a fairly large log. All she had to do was make it there.

Apparently, this was a case of every man to himself, for Zuko and Zhao were a good many strokes ahead of her. Neither paying attention to each other. With nothing else to do, and a sea monster hot on her trail, she took a deep breath and pushed herself through the water as fast as she could muster.

Which she was distressed to find, wasn’t fast at all between the camera and the bagginess of her clothing.

She gauged the distance between herself and the shoreline.

It was so far…

.oOo.

Zuko was panting like an animal by the time he reached land. His limbs were completely spent and his energy wasted. He’d put so much time into this trip and would gain nothing from it. The world was just as infested as it was before, the famous Loch Ness still has hazardous as before. He slammed his fist into the sand.

“Laddy, Ah don’t see yer sister anywhere.”

Zuko bolted upright and scanned the beach himself. “She’s here, she has to be.” He scrambled to his feet and screamed her name, only to have it echoed back it him. “Azula!” He shouted again. The world around him was terribly quiet. Even Zhao had nothing to say.

Zuko balled his hands. He had already lost their mom to the Wendigo, he couldn’t lose his sister to the supernatural as well. He just couldn’t.

But the loneliness of the beach told him otherwise.

The mist grew into a soft drizzle, taking away any chance of spotting Azula.

“Ah think we should gather a search party, aye?”

“That’s not going to do any good.” Zuko mumbled. “Not in this weather.”

This time Zhao didn’t argue. “If ye wanna stand ‘ere n wait then ye do that. Ah am gaun tae get some help.”

Zuko stared blackly at the water. A way off, he could swear that he was able to make out the silhouette of his foe. The dark shape was drawing closer and this time he didn’t have his gun. Like Azula, that seemed to be lost to the sea. Yet he held his ground—somehow, he’d avenge his sister. Even still, he could hear her making an argument against doing so.

Time crawled slowly. Nessie lazily coasted along with no sense of urgency, none the wiser to the fury she was heading towards.

He could see her more clearly now, the creature that haunted the lake for so long. She was every bit horrifying as the locals had warned. Those eyes, large and glassy, bore into him. Fully aware of the folly it was, he took a rock in his hand. Before he could throw his rudimentary weapon, Nessie bowed her head.

As if it were some mundane, every day occurrence, Azula leapt off of the beast with a semi-cheerful greeting. “See Zu-Zu, I told you that you didn’t need to shoot her. She was afraid, that’s all.” She turned back to see her new companion off, but her mount had already disappeared back into the fog. “I have the pictures too.”

“And?”

“I don’t think I will release them.”

“What?” Zuko roared. “You went through all of that trouble and you’re not going to release them?”

“I’m glad you’re okay too, Zu-Zu.” Azula waved him off. “No I won’t. Not the super clear ones anyhow. She doesn’t need more people like you going after her. If they see real proof, they’ll go after her.”

“So this trip was pointless?” Zuko asked, grateful to be having this argument with her rather than crying over her lifeless body.

“Our hunts don’t always have to have a point. Not everything has a point, sometimes things just are.” Azula shrugged. “But if it makes you feel better, no, not completely pointless. I have a few decent shots, they’re of better quality than most of shots of Nessie. I’ll sell those.”

Zuko sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter right? As long as you’re okay…and I never have to see Zhao again.”

Azula made a successful attempt to evade Zuko’s fluff and relived hugs, “I don’t know about that last thing, Zu-Zu. He told me that he’d be interested in joining our duo.”

“He what? That’s not the truth. Please tell me that, that’s not the truth.”

“I don’t know, I think it would be interesting to have him tagging along with us. I’d love to hear what he’d say if he came face to face with a…” she thought for a moment, trying to recall what was next on their list of things to investigate. “With a Stick Indian.”

Zuko for one, could do without the visual. “I supposed we should catch up to him before he gets everyone and their long dead ancestors to go looking for you.”

“I don’t know, I think I might be fine with the attention.” Azula smirked. She slung her camera case over her shoulder and followed Zuko up the beach. Her camera had seen a lot of things, but none of it came close to what it captured that morning.

#Azula #Zuko #Zhao #Avatar The Last Airbender #Fanfiction

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