#avatar the last airbender ficlet

[lapseinart]

I’m really fond of the idea of Zuko being a very competent bureaucrat. Is he an amazing fire bender by literally anyone other than the royal family’s standards? Hell yeah! But he’s also got an incredible head for facts and figures and his calligraphy is On Point and he can read really really fast so he’s just really good at paperwork.

And so one day Zuko gets fed up with Azula taunting him about being Fire Lord as soon as she escapes that he’s just like fine. And he dumps copies of rice tax allocations and legal petitions and a long list of candidates for a new Minister of Health and funding requests from the Minister of Education and the Minister of Agriculture and the Minister of Culture (all of whom he’s planning on firing but he gives them to her just to see what she does) and he says okay. Be the Fire Lord. Those need to be done by the end of the week. I’ll bring the rest down tomorrow.

And Azula’s beyond competent okay? She could do all of this and more. So she looks through everything, makes a few modifications, some of which Zuko even takes up because his little sister is a genius, but damn if it isn’t boring as hell. Sometimes when Zuko comes by she’s looking over a budget allocation for the Ministry of Agriculture and casually says, oh we had to arrest Minister Yu because he tried to assassinate me. His replacement gave us a new budget. And Azula’s eye twitches as she crumples up the parchment she was holding and thrusts her hand out to receive the new budget allocation form. She sets it on fire and pretends it’s the traitor. Nobody should get to kill her brother except for her.

And by Agni Azula knows what he’s doing because between the two of them there was one that actually enjoyed doing homework and one that would rather be outside practicing forms. But Azula Will Be Fire Lord mark her words. Azula was the politically savvy one. Azula was the one who knew how to maneuver all the pieces into place.

Azula wanted to burn all the paperwork, even if that was as good as admitting defeat.

She lasts until Zuko peers into her cell to comment on the fact that she couldn’t set a meeting with the cabinet on the day of the summer solstice without losing the support of the Sage’s (who were invaluable in maintaining the dynasty) that Azula loses it. She sets the paperwork on fire. Zuko opens the door to her cell and she stomps out.

Zuko is the Fire Lord, and the Lightning Princess stands at his side. Pointedly not doing paperwork.

#atla #zuko #Azula #fire nation #Zuko & Azula #paperwork #avatar the last airbender #lapse in thoughts #almost a #ficlet #lapse in writing #1k

[thief-of-eggs]

Thinking about how Zuko almost never laughs in canon. And how Sokka takes alot of his identity from being the “funny one”, the one who can always lighten a mood and make people smile.

Thinking about a Sokka who makes it his mission to get Zuko to even so much as smile. Laughter is his goal, but he’ll take even just a soft smile if he can get it.

He doesn’t know why it irks him so much, that smiles so rarely grace Zuko’s face, that laughter is so rarely heard from the teen Firelord.

But Sokka knows he wants to hear it. Needs to hear it. He can’t explain it- maybe it’s because Zuko is the one person who doesn’t so easily laugh at his jokes- but it becomes an obsession for him.

Over time, Sokka becomes the only person who can wheedle out a genuine laugh from Zuko. The only one who can ease his worry-lined face into softness, who can make a smile appear on his pressed thin lips.

Zuko starts to seek him out, whenever he’s feeling particularly worn down. When pressure sinks into his bones, when tension weighs on his shoulders like the goddamn earth itself- it’s Sokka’s easy smile and quick wit that he seeks.

Before long, they’re both spending every free second they can find in eachother’s company. Sokka stops trying to get Zuko to laugh just to feel better about himself- he starts trying to get him to laugh just because he loves the sound. And Zuko stops seeking Sokka out just because he knows he’ll feel a little calmer from his jokes- he seeks him out because he knows he’ll feel at peace from Sokka.

It’s slow, the way they fall in love. It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s not a flash, no collision that leaves them dazed.

It’s a snowball of little moments. It’s shared laughs and small smiles, it’s leaned on shoulders and quiet evenings where neither utters a word.

It’s slow, but that’s the kind of love that lasts. They wade into the water instead of diving straight in, and by the time they reach the deep end- they both find that they’ve learned how to swim.

#zukka #sokka #zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka x zuko #zukka headcannon #zukka drabble #zukka ficlet

[muffinlance]

Kidnapped Zuko? Rescued by Gaang who dont know who he is and he has to hide his identity.

Okay, so. There’s already a teenager down in Commander Muttonchop’s brig. This fact is so far past concerning it’s wrapped around to let’s-not-think-too-hard-about-this hilarity, and Sokka finds himself grinning, and offering the guy a good ol’ fashioned Water Tribe wrist shake through the bars. They’re neighbors, after all.

“Hello, Fellow Prisoner. What are you in for?”

“I, uh,” says Fellow Prisoner, who is clearly undersocialized from his time in here. He’s looking a little grimy around the edges of his all-black outfit, and the bruises on him have had time to get newer, fresher bruises on top, which is just. That is all kinds of reassuring. Oh, and the giant fiery facial scar. Also reassuring. Though at least that one’s a few years old. So… inflicted when he was, what, Aang’s age?

So reassured, is feeling Sokka, for the Fire Nation’s upcoming hospitality.  

“Uh,” repeats Fellow Prisoner, who is uncoiling a little in the direction of Sokka’s offered hand. As if Sokka was trying to coax him out, and hadn’t just sort of forgotten he was holding it there while his thoughts were doing their downward spiral. But hey, one man’s desperate attempts to keep his cool were another man’s offer of friendship. Fellow Prisoner grasped his wrist and shook it, in both the most technically correct and least experienced Water Tribe wrist clasp Sokka has ever experienced. 

“Zhao thinks I was stealing military correspondence,” the guy says.

“Were you stealing military correspondence?” asks Sokka.

“Only his,” scowls Fellow Prisoner, to whom Sokka takes an immediate liking. “...What did you do? To get arrested. But not killed. He doesn’t usually…”

So, so reassured.

“Oh, you know,” Sokka says, continuing to shake wrists, because it is becoming clear that Fellow Prisoner has no idea how long this is supposed to last and Sokka isn't going to be the one to stop him. “The usual. Found the Avatar. Became traveling companions. Got captured doing something definitely heroic that did not in anyway involve excessive screaming of an unmanly pitch.”

“...The Avatar?” says Fellow Prisoner, who clearly knows how to focus on the important points.

“I’m bait,” says Sokka.

“For the Avatar.”

To be fair, Sokka is still a little stuck on that point, too. It’s been a few weeks, but he still wakes up too-hot in the night and wondering why the stars above him aren’t quite right.

“Yep,” he confirms.

Fellow Prisoner’s face does a thing. A sort of processing, processing, processing thing that involves progressively more scowling. “The Avatar left you? I knew the old man must be a coward.”

“So,” Sokka says, “about that.”

Fellow Prisoner drinks up Sokka’s story like a man who’s spent three years in a desert searching for water. 

- - -

(It’s been two and half years.)

- - - 

Their escape involves a significantly higher swords-to-escapees ratio than Sokka had anticipated, which is distractingly epic. 

Also, the last-minute bison save is both the stupidest thing his little sister could have possibly done and very welcome, which means that Sokka is going to catch his breath and let some of his adrenaline fade before channeling his inner Gran-Gran for a lecture. 

Fellow Prisoner sheaths both his swords. And kind of stares, rather than sitting down, so Sokka pulls him over before the bison turbulence (read: catapult dodging) can do the job. This does nothing to interrupt the staring. 

“Hi,” says Aang, looking back from Appa’s head. “I’m Aang! What’s your name?”

“...Li?”

Under the sunlight, Fellow Prisoner’s eyes glint gold. He is… very Fire Nation-y looking, now that there is enough light to see him. And he is warmer against Sokka’s side than anyone not feverish should be, even in the ridiculous heat these northerners call ‘winter’.

“Are you a firebender?” asks Aang, like that question hasn’t spent decades earning its status as an insult.

“Uh,” says Li.

“Great!” says Aang, who has already figured out Li-speak. “I need a teacher!”

On the deck below them, Zhao has gone from shouting to laughing. 

Sokka continues to be reassured.

#Zuko: I will definitely not ruin this for myself #also Zuko: *immediately gets declared a traitor to his nation AND burns bridges with the Gaang* #Sokka: oh my god he's literally a hot idiot #And There Was Only One Braincell #this doesn't have to be Zukka but boy did I want to use that tag #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Fellow Prisoner Li #ficlet

[zukkaflowers]

middle aged zukka have to share a bed but they lie parallel, untouching, both their minds racing thinking about i’ve loved him for years and years and years it’s too late to do anything; if i move he will know if i touch him he will know if i breathe he will know and. i can’t let him know. if i look at him from this short distance there’s no way he won’t be able to tell in my eyes that he’s the center of my soul. if our hands brush and he hears the hitch in my breath. if we wake and i am curled towards him. maybe he can hear my thoughts; maybe he already knows. maybe he can feel my pounding heart forcing ripples through the mattress. maybe he remembers my blush as the lights went out. maybe he knows and he’s embarrassed. maybe he knows and he’s repulsed.

i can’t let him know.

#zukka #atla #sokka #zuko #writing #i did write this at 4 am so it’s not as good as it could be #avatar the last airbender #atla zukka #zukka au #zukka fic #zukka fanfic #zukka ficlet #angst #bed sharing #sharing a bed

[unevenpatterns]

Fic Idea - Zuko is skin and bones (Jetko)

Zuko is still a teenage boy and they need a shit ton of food. But I can easily see how him becoming a firelord might lead him down a path of not eating enough.

He still has the metabolism of a teenager, but all of a sudden he is super busy and probably pretty stressed out. There are a so many meetings and obligations, so little time.

Although his stint as a refugee made him more appreciative of food, he doesn't have hunger in his bones the same way that Jet does.

Jet lived for years on scraps, whatever they could steal and harvest from the forest. Fuck, imagine the winters he had to go through. How he had to keep an eye on everyone and make sure food was divided not based on hunger, but based on who could safely go without that day.

So when Jet sees Zuko thin in a way that he shouldn't be, all the alarm bells start ringing. Zuko's plate gets filled with extra portions when he looks away. And yet, he's still too thin. Jet frets over the situation, asks the cook and the palace healer what's wrong afraid that Zuko might be sick.

But no, he's just too busy to eat. What. Why is he so stupid? Why won't he eat??!

Even after getting past the whole "by the way, the dude you're banging is a firebender... and the firelord" Jet still finds plenty of opportunities to rage against him.

Jet: My bf is dying. There's no other plausible explanation for this. 😢 Everyone else: Uh no, he's just not taking care of himself. Jet: That's a real thing? *hands Zuko more food* Zuko: Thank you. I forgot to eat lunch today 🥰 Jet, in a silent rage: How is this man still alive.

.

(author is currently on a weight-gain diet. It might sound more fun than the reverse, but I promise you it is not. It's just as awful.)

#jetko #zuko x jet #fire lord zuko #jet atla #atla #avatar the last airbender #fic ideas #atla fanfic idea #fanfiction #ficlet #jet lives #fanfic #zuko #jet(avatar) #zuko is a disaster

[addictofreading]

Zutara Week 2022 Day 6: Closeness

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Yes, she wanted to stay by the fire after everyone else went to bed and she’s willing to admit it was because he intended to stay up as well. But that was only because she was tired of fighting the pull that had been tugging at her these past weeks. Ever since they’d gotten back from their journey together she’d been trying to ignore it. The near constant desire to be closer to him. She didn’t even know what she wanted to do once there, but she wanted it just the same. 

Their group was small and everyone tended to stay within a small radius of each other wherever they camped, so it wasn’t like she was ever really that far away from Zuko at any given point, but that didn’t mean she was close enough to him either. Because when they were close, she felt it. She felt the initial speeding of her heart as he offered to help prepare dinner, felt the comforting playfulness that washed over her when they inevitably started their teasing banter. She felt the tension, foreign yet not unpleasant when they tried not to share shy glances. She would try so hard not to look at him yet she always knew exactly where he was, how close, and how far he stood. 

It’s not like she meant for it to happen. They all were in the middle of a war and she obviously had more important things to think about than Zuko and how strong he looked with his shirt off when training Aang. Or how absurd it was that he could be a confident and demanding instructor one moment and a socially awkward teammate the next. She tried to keep a friendly distance, made sure she spent the same amount of time with everyone else as she always had. But she always wanted him there. 

And late at night, she’d think about how good it felt to be alone with him as they returned from hunting her mother’s murderer. Her grieving had felt raw, like a wound that had never quite scabbed over, but he knew what she needed. He knew when to stay silent, when to distract with travel logistics, when to take charge and make her sleep. What surprised her the most is when he knew she needed comfort. The quiet, easy comfort of scooting closer to her and allowing her to find her way into a soft embrace. She likely would have found comfort with anyone else in their group had they done the same. But he was the only one who had supported her quest and so was the only one there. And it just felt different with him. It felt safe in a way that was unfamiliar and yet felt so natural. 

So yes, she purposefully stayed up last night to spend time with Zuko. Because she wasn’t a complete idiot. She knew what the tugging meant and it was clear he felt it too. And yes, they were fighting a war. But did that really mean they had to fight this constant pull to be closer as well? They could spend one late night talking and for all she knew that could be enough to put an end to this feeling.

Except it didn’t. Instead, the night got later and later and they sat closer and closer. And the next thing she knew she was waking up to the pre-dawn stillness of day, tucked in close in Zuko’s arms. The ground was just as firm as always, but somehow she was too comfortable to move. She was reminded of the coldest of winter mornings when getting up and out of the perfect warmth of her bed and blankets felt like the most difficult task on earth. It had to be done. The others would be waking up soon and then there was the whole potential for embarrassing awkwardness with Zuko. But maybe…

“Um. Good morning?” Zuko’s voice is hushed and sleep rough. Katara sighs internally and makes herself sit up, moving out of the circle of his arms to look at him. The sun is just coming up behind him, making a soft halo from his mussed-up hair, and is bright enough to highlight his growing blush as he offers a lopsided smile. And nope. Katara is done pretending this pull between them is anything other than what it clearly is. She’s willing to let it take its time, to simmer on the side while more important things are dealt with, but the tugging can’t actually be fought against. Not anymore. And it feels so good to give in.

---------------------------

Happy @zutaraweek again!

So this ficlet wasn't supposed to be that long, but it just sort of ended up that way. I hope you enjoyed it! Honestly, I didn't plan on doing a second prompt this week just because the first one took longer than planned and my health has been a bit iffy, but then I had the sudden inspiration for this prompt and I just didn't want to let the week pass without trying. And I made it in time! Woot! (I may go back and tweak the image if I can pinpoint what's off about it, but woot all the same!)

Anyways, I wanted to give a shout out to the official Zutara Week mods for keeping this event going. I don't care what time of year it happens, I'm just thankful that Zutara Week is still a thing. It has become something joyous I look forward to each year and I know I'm not the only one who values the beautiful creations and the sense of community it brings. So thank you! <3

#zutara week 2022 #zutara week #fanart #ficlet #zutara #zuko #katara #addictofreading #avatar the last airbender #atla #closeness #zutara week is the best week

[feral-jackdaw]

The Firelord's Morning Routine

A little Zukka fluff for y'all

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Zuko murmured, kissing Sokka's forehead softly. “Time to wake up.”

It's been nearly two hours since he himself got out of bed. He was the one who rises with the sun, after all. Every morning, while Sokka was still asleep, Zuko would just sit at his desk in silence and try to do some of his Firelord work. It was pretty hard in these conditions, though. Zuko found it nearly impossible to look away from sleeping Sokka, with messy hair, drooling all over the pillow; such an adorable view.

Sokka groaned, without even opening his eyes.

“Come on, darling, it's getting late,” Zuko continued, kissing Sokka again, this time on the cheek.

Eventually, Sokka lifted his eyelids, revealing a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes, and he reached out to Zuko. Zuko climbed on the bed and pulled him into a hug.They stayed like that for a while, without saying anything. Zuko just kept running his fingers through Sokka's hair, quietly admiring how soft it felt.

“Did you sleep well?” Zuko asked eventually, pulling away to look at his boyfriend.

“Mhm,” Sokka replied.

But Zuko knew he was lying. He'd already learnt to tell, to pick up all the subtle signs.

“Did your leg keep you awake again?” he asked.

Sokka didn't respond.

“Sokka.” Zuko cupped the boy's face, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Why didn't you wake me up, silly?”

“I'm sorry,” Sokka replied. “I just... You haven't been getting enough sleep recently, it didn't seem right to wake you up,” he admitted.

“So it seemed more right to lay there and suffer?” Zuko countered. It broke his heart to know that Sokka was in pain, and he couldn't help him. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” Sokka replied.

Zuko already knew that a little actually means a lot.

“Alright, gimme,” he commanded.

Soka laid down and Zuko put a pillow under his injured leg. Then he summonned some warmth to his hands and placed them around Sokka's knee, massaging it gently.

“Better?” he asked after a while.

There was no response. Zuko looked up at Sokka's face and realized that he had fallen asleep.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Zuko lauged, putting a blanket over his sleeping boyfriend. He then wanted to return to his desk and carry on with his work, but the bed seemed so soft and comfy... No, being the Firelord can wait. Instead, Zuko crawled under the blanket and cuddled up to Sokka. And together they finally got some well deserved sleep.

#fanfiction #fanfic #atla #zuko #avatar the last airbender #my wrtitng #ficlet #prince zuko #sokka #zukka #zukka fanfic #fluff #fire lord zuko #zukka fluff

[linnoya-writes]

Zutara “unexpected father-in-law” canon-compliant AU

It’s interesting how, in the ATLA finale, there’s no real indication that Katara actually got to see Ozai before he gets imprisoned for war crimes.  

In the finale, everyone, including Toph, gets to throw their own personal jab at Ozai.  Not Katara. And part of me likes to believe that she chooses not to see him intentionally.  Because it’s her rough spot.  Not just because this was a man who waged war and destruction for years... but also because she has a hard time processing that the young Fire Lord she finds herself falling in love with is the son of this horrible, cruel man.  

She doesn’t want that to be true. 

She doesn’t want to accept that Ozai and Zuko are the same blood. And it takes years…. decades… for Katara to finally come to terms with that hard truth, and she pays a visit to her now elderly father-in-law in his prison cell.  

His face is gaunt and hollow at first sight, but when he looks up to her, the flaming, brilliant golden eyes are very much Zuko... and she holds her breath.

Ozai is also speechless, and only manages a grin to mask that curiosity.

Over the years, he’d only been lucky to catch glimpses of his aging brother before his passing and been visited occasionally by Azula.  Zuko, however ironically, had been the one to visit the former FireLord the most frequently… promptly at the first of every month.  It became Ozai’s personal passage of time.  At first his son had come with tea, and as the months went by… he came with news: about reconstruction of their FireNation governments, the peaceful republic of Earth Kingdom colonies encouraged by Avatar Aang, the new alliances and trade agreements made with the Southern WaterTribe.  Zuko mentioned all of this to him not as an insecure boy seeking advice, but as a learned man -- one who’d risen from countless mistakes and had eventually found his own diplomatic resolve.    

It was a kind of confidence Ozai had no idea existed within his son, and it was in this way that Zuko announced in that cell that this young Fire Lord would finally be married. 

“Who is she?” 

“Her name is Katara, of the Southern Water Tribe.” 

“A Water Tribe peasant,” Ozai muttered, amused.  Appalled.  

“Oh, if you knew even half the things that woman has done for this world, you wouldn’t think the FireNation even deserved her.” Zuko glances down, a shy smile forming. “She is unbelievable.  You’d be lucky enough to meet her.  I hope she’ll come around.”  

And Zuko leaves before Ozai can say anything regarding a tainted mark or brittle branch that will result of this marriage within Fire Nation royal history.  

Over the years, Ozai hears about this marriage, the political alliance that formed from it, the mixed daughters birthed between a peasant and a prince.  When Ozai asks the guards if his granddaughters were borne firebenders, the prisoner doesn’t receive an answer.  Instead, he receives a visit from the children themselves in their royal garb, along with their father.  Ozai sees the familiar golden flame in the girls’ eyes, despite the tanned complexion of their WaterTribe mother.  

The girls take a fire-bending stance, and the old man gets hopeful.  

But it’s when ribbons of blue begin to dance around the girls alongside the fire-bending movements that Ozai’s smile disappears.  

The blue he sees is not Azula’s Fire.  It’s actually not fire at all.  

And when the girls end their routine and smile at their grandfather, Ozai turns his back away from them.  Confused and sad, the girls turn to Zuko and ask if they did anything wrong, and their father kneels down to their level, hugging them tightly… and assures them they did not.  

Zuko’s visits become less frequent after that, only coming in to disclose important decrees and updated policies to the former sovereign.  Ozai hears about his granddaughters through Zuko, year after year, learning about their favorite foods and colors… their interests beyond bending, their worldly education fueled by their parents’ influence as well as the youthful, progressive Avatar.  

When the girls become teenagers, they finally visit their grandfather again-- this time, on their own… and ask Ozai about the war… if their family was indeed responsible for it. 

They ask about it not in an accusatory way, but more an assertive way… wanting to understand for their own sake, their future, and how the world might see them as either a blessing or a threat. How delicate their position truly is.

Over time, Ozai grows accustomed to the water he sees and the stories about the WaterTribe he hears with each of his granddaughters’ later visits.  They become women before his eyes, esteemed princesses of two cultures… and when they leave the palace independently, Ozai hears through news of the guards how these girls- much like their parents before them- are making a difference, changing the world, falling in love outside of their borders.  

It brings the old man to tears.  

The days become quieter, shorter over time.  Nobody visits him anymore, and even Fire Lord Zuko has dedicated his time more to other important matters.  Time runs glacially, erratically.  Ozai combs his now silvery mane of hair with lanky fingers to pass the days, and the last thing he expects is a new visitor approaching his cell.  

Sandwiched between two palace guards is this petite, middle-aged woman he’d never seen before, wearing royal red and blue garb.  He recognizes her face instantly, from the ones of his granddaughters.  

An old grin passes his face.  “I’m impressed the heat of our country never compelled you to flee, highness.” 

Katara grins firmly, finding her breath.  Her eyes are glistening. 

“I can handle the sun, thank you.” 

Despite having spent most of her life adapting to royal Fire Nation courts, Ozai can still hear this woman’s humble origins.  

He looks away in his cell, straightening up in only the way a former Royal can. 

Katara nods to the guards, reassuring that she’s okay and they turn on their heels to give her some time alone with the prisoner.  

Slowly, she pours the old man some Ginger tea in the same delicate way Uncle Iroh had taught her.  She doesn’t hand him the cup, but rather places it down past the rails, which he takes, and watching her then pour a cup for herself. She’s just beginning to graze her fifties, he thinks, noticing the sternness to her brow, the overworked draping to her lids… and yet, it’s the blue of her eyes that makes this woman seem timeless.  

It’s a patient, firm, kind and tranquil blue that Ozai doesn’t understand, but the old man can already sense he will spend his last decade feeling both eased and haunted by it.  

It’s quiet for a long time, sipping their tea.  

Ozai shifts uncomfortably in his sitting. “To what do I owe this honor? Are you here for some kind of absolution?” 

“No. It’s pointless to do that now.” 

Ozai stares at her. “Hmm. Then I suppose you found the urge to gloat over the irony of all this, how the tables turned so beautifully for your people.  I can imagine the spirits of your ancestors are celebrating some kind of victory, is that right?”  

Katara looks at him. “I can see how you’d think that, but no.” 

Ozai stares again.  “Are you waiting for me to beg for forgiveness?” 

Katara shakes her head even before he finishes asking. 

Ozai can only look at her, then.  Katara waits a long moment and gives him a look that could’ve made any instinct of his prepare for battle forty years earlier.  

It’s in that moment where Ozai remembers the advanced, lethal Waterbending technique he’d heard talked about in the palace halls— how it had returned after so many years of outlaw and imprisonment of waterbenders, thanks to women like her sitting in front of him.  Ozai heard that this same woman had managed to master the technique for healing purposes… but looking at her face now, Ozai wondered if she wasn’t against making an exception.  

“Are you here to kill me?” 

He asks this not afraid, exactly, but rather…. tired, alone.

Defeated.  

Her look only lasts a moment, and he sees the woman take a long, deep breath from her center.  She sets down her tea and says “no” looking at him square in the eye, and in her softest voice. 

It leaves Ozai uncomfortably impatient.  “Then, why are you here?”  

Katara looks away, then shrugs, feeling the old skin of a naive, stubborn teenager stir beneath her as she looks back to him.

“Because I love your son.  And… that makes you my family.” 

Ozai hums incredulously, looking out past Katara’s presence for a long quiet moment, and laughs on the way an old man only can.  

She chuckles as well, because it’s funny.  It’s messed up.  But it’s funny.

The room becomes quiet again as they sip their tea.  Katara pours her father-in-law another cup, gently handing it to him through the cell bars.  Ozai receives it.

And that’s how their long-overdue conversations begin.

#zutara #katara #katara of the southern water tribe #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #avatar the last airbender #zutara fic #zutara ficlet #Zutara week 2023 #Zuko #Fire lady Katara

[aboutiroh]

‘I can’t fight them all’ Aang said disheartendly. He sat beside Appa, both of them exhausted after their failed attempt to stop the Fire Nation Navy from attacking the Northern Water Tribe.

Realization hit Yue as Aang burried his head in his arms. He had to fight. Because if he couldn’t stop them, then no-one could. If he didn’t end this, they would lose the war. If they’d lose the war- she didn’t want to let her mind wander there, not just yet. Instead she told the boy in front of him ‘You have to. You’re the Avatar.’

Aang looked up now. ‘I’m just one kid’ he answered. A short response to the weight of the world being put on his shoulders. ‘I can’t carry this weight’ he meant to say. Or maybe ‘I don’t know how to’. There had been a time it meant ‘I don’t want to’, though that time had passed and denial had given place to acceptance.

‘I’m just one kid’ he said. Defeated, sitting with his head low, arms crossed over his knees. Because acceptance alone wasn’t enough to carry this burden, he understood at last.

‘I’m just one kid’ he said. Wishing he could be more, do more. He had never been confronted with the limits of his abilities. They hadn’t betrayed him like this before.

He hadn’t felt this small since he was caught in that storm. But something had changed since then. He wasn’t the same Aang. That Aang ran away from his fate and the ocean answered by keeping him away from the world and from his duties for a century. Now he was giving his all to honor his fate, and the ocean would once again answer accordingly.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #aang #yue #i had a lot of feelings about that scene in book 1 #and thoughts about aangs relation with the ocean #so here you go #a random ficlet? maybe? idk what to call this

[lapseinart]

From the atla curly hair au, where people from the Fire Nation with curly hair are encouraged to straighten it

Zuko returns to the abandoned hut exhausted and dripping wet.

Iroh wants to fuss over him, remembering that first year at sea when his nephew constantly came down with one disease or another, body weakened by the burn on his face, but he refrains, and Zuko, in a creative application of the breath of fire, dries himself off. Iroh busies himself with his tea brewing, keeping the fire the perfect temperature.

“We will make for Ba Sing Se,” Iroh says. Zuko does not look at him, but turns his good ear towards him. “No one will expect to look for us there.”

Zuko’s hand goes to his hair, and it’s only then that Iroh notices the limp curls that have formed on his nephew’s head, making his short hair look even shorter.

“I did not know that you’d inherited Lady Ursa’s hair, Prince Zuko,” Iroh says mildly.

Zuko stiffens.

“I straighten it.”

“No easy task, I’m sure.”

“I should leave it like this. Prince Zuko has straight hair. Changing the silhouette helps throw people off.”

“A smart decision, Prince Zuko.”

Iroh tactfully does not mention that the scar is a far more easily identifiable feature. Zuko is as aware of that fact as he is. They sit in silence for a moment.

“I ran out of Mother’s hair oil,” Zuko admits.

“Ah,” Iroh says, though he is not certain how that relates. He was under the impression that his nephew’s use of Ursa’s hair oil was in her memory rather for any functional purpose. He should’ve known better than to believe that his nephew would indulge in any luxury purely for comfort.

#iroh #Zuko #atla #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla iroh #Iroh & Zuko #ficlet #lapse in writing #atla curly hair au

[waywardavatarenthusiast]

‘no one has ever made me feel like this’ sokkla

They always find each other at these events. Sokka wouldn’t call them friends, but Azula is usually the only person in the room that he can hold an intellectual conversation with. As long as Suki showed up and as long as he didn’t beg her for forgiveness and say he didn’t mean to end things with her, his friends weren’t an option.

When he sees Azula in the palace gardens, it’s clear that they won’t be discussing anything worthwhile. There’s no one around her. Her sharp eyes are relaxed and a light flush is apparent on her face.

“I see youuu,” she says, grinning and pointing right in his direction.

“Hey, Azula,” he replies. “I never expected to see you so…”

“Inebriated?” she finishes.

“I was gonna say jolly.”

“Why not? Mai and Zuzu are getting married! I’ve been arranging this since we were schoolgirls.”

“That’s sweet. She’s inside with the other girls talking about the wedding.”

“Probably because they’re all in the wedding,” she says, staring intently at the grass. “Mother and Zuko think it’s best if I just attend the reception because Mai doesn’t trust that I’ll behave during the ceremony.”

“That’s not right,” he says quietly.

“It’s fine,” she says, voice cracking. “Promise you’ll tell me all about it at the reception? We tend to partner up at these things.” He knows that Mai and Zuko have their reasons for being wary of Azula. But when she looks up at him the way she is at the moment, her eyes gleaming with hope that she’ll at least hear about her brother’s wedding, he has to make her feel better.

“How about we skip the reception? We could get some street food and I’ll tell you who talked during the ceremony, who looked ridiculous because someone always does, and then we can talk about more important things.

First she looks at him like he has two heads and he decides to rescind the offer, but then she gently leans toward him and takes his head in her hands.

He thinks she’ll kiss him, finally, but her lips move at the last second and press firmly in his cheek.

“No one has ever made me feel like this,” she whispers, dragging her mouth across his skin.

“Feel like what?” She pulls away from him and looks up with heavy eyes.

“Like a person, Sokka.” He focuses too much on the sadness of her statement to be glad that she properly acknowledged him after all these years.

“Take care of yourself, Azula,” he mutters.

“I have a better idea,” she slurs. “Why don’t you keep me safe and carry me to bed? You might get a reward for it when I sober up in the morning.”

“Sure,” he says, sighing. She laughs as he carries her over his shoulder.

send me a number and pairing!

#atla #azula #avatar the last airbender #sokkla #sokka #zuko #mai #ficlet

[muffinlance]

prompt: Ozai has Azula watch Zuko (his progress or rather lack thereof) from way earlier on, possibly even before Aang gets away from the iceberg in the first place

There it is, written at the bottom of his banishment notice, wobbling in and out of his vision and he’s not sure if it's his eyes—

(Father wouldn’t have meant to blind him. Being blind won't help him catch the Avatar, so he’ll just not go blind.)

It’s either his eyes, or. Or the rage. It has to be the rage.

So Zuko reads the line again, and lets the fire brim up and overflow, until sparks chase the shout from his lips.

“Banishment to be overseen by Crown Princess Azula?”

- - -

“Prince Zuko,” Azula says, standing as tall as an eleven year old can. She’s using his title, so that he’ll use hers. And if he doesn’t then he’s ill-mannered and not fit for his own. 

“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko grits out.

“I’ll just be inspecting your ship, then. Father’s orders.”

Two men are in shackles by the time she’s done. 

“—Fostering mutiny against your prince,” she is yelling, and somehow her voice is just as high-pitched as his without sounding childish at all. “When our father hears about this—”

- - -

“So you had them executed,” Fire Lord Ozai inquires. Lightly. And from behind his flames.

“Of course, father,” says the kneeling child. “It was an attack on our family.”

Her father doesn’t say anything.

Azula is eleven. Eleven, she had presumed, was old enough to count. 

One, two, three. Four, with Uncle. The royal family.

Her father is silent still.

One. Two.

“Forgive my impertinence, Fire Lord,” she says. “I will bring them to you for judgment next time.”

“Do so,” Fire Lord Ozai says. He does not contest the ‘next time.’

- - -

“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko says.

“Your bandage is off, brother,” Azula says. “Are you blind?”

“No.”

(The blur of her red robes, the eye-searing glint of sunlight off her headpiece—he’s not blind in that eye. He’s just… still recovering.)

“Lovely,” she says. “Then what’s your excuse for the condition of this ship?”

…He has an increased budget for repairs, by the time she’s done. 

- - -

“Brother,” Azula says, “traditionally knives are to be delivered to the back.”

“I… what?” her brother says, still holding out the inexplicable thing. “No, I bought it at port. For you. See, it matches the one Uncle got me.”

“How original,” she says.

Her brother turns a shade of red that puts his bending to shame. Not that it’s a particularly high bar. “Fine, I’ll just—throw it out.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. At the least, Mai will want it.”

- - -

“Nice knife,” says Mai, looking at the hilt peeking out of Azula’s boot.

“Be silent,” Azula says, thus ending that conversation.

- - -

“Did great-grandfather… did we…” starts her brother, fresh from scurrying about the Eastern Air Temple like some particularly dim-witted pheasant-monkey, the dust not even brushed from his clothes even though he knew her ship was waiting down here. “Azula, there were children—”

“Be silent,” she says.

- - -

“You’re leaving frequently,” comments father, as his knife cuts through the pheasant-monkey, clicking against the plate below. The persimmon-cherry sauce is thick and red and smearing.  

“I find it advantageous to cultivate a working knowledge of our nation’s tactics,” Azula answers. She does not push around her meat like a child, but she does eat only lightly; the dish is more sour than she remembers.

“And your brother?”

“Oh, him,” she says, to which her father smiles.

- - -

“...What?” Zuko asks, blinking down at the scrolls. 

“It’s your birthday,” Azula says. “Apparently, I should have gotten you a calendar.”

“Thank you?”

She sighs.

- - -

“Do we… tell him we can hear him?” asks the assistant cook, as the prince continues monologuing. Dramatically, and loudly. Through the pipe connecting the drain of the kitchen sink to the ones in the shower. 

“Ssh, I think this is one of his new plays.”

- - -

She gets him a calendar for his next birthday. It’s not funny.

- - -

He gets her a doll, for hers. The look on Uncle’s face as she torches it in front of them both is hilarious.

- - -

“Brother,” she says, looking up at the damage to his ship. “This is not the way to requisition additional repair funds.”

“Captain Zhao,” her uncle says in the background, with heights of pleasant antagonism she can only aspire to. As if a general could mistake Zhao’s new insignia. Particularly with all the polishing he does. 

“It’s commander now.”

“How did you manage this?” she asks.

“Uh,” Zuko says. “Can we… speak alone?”

She eyes her brother’s shifting stance. Eyes, too, the way Zhao’s men are already moving to intercept and interrogate his crew. One of the new commander’s more noxious habits is stalking her brother’s every move. 

Well. She’d been meaning to deal with that, anyway.

Azula snaps her fingers at the commander’s guards.

“Detain him,” she says. And for a moment, just a moment, her dear uncle freezes, as if she were talking about someone he actually cared for.

The guards don’t. She’s trained them better than that.

“Princess,” Commander Zhao says, his snarl well hidden behind a smile. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Crown Princess Azula,” she corrects. “Now hush; the adults are talking.”

- - -

They have an Avatar to catch, apparently. Her brother is coming home.

#her brother is coming home #it may be time for some other changes as well #how does the pheasant-monkey taste father? #oh of course I haven’t had any #you know I haven’t liked that since I was a little girl #are you feeling well father? #why don’t you have a little lie down father #oh is your crown uncomfortable? #let me just remove that for you #hush now #sleep #goodnight father #say hello to grandfather for me #avatar the last airbender #atla #Zuko #Azula #ficlets #yep that prompt hit the spot thanks Anon <3

[frankenjoly]

And the rest is history

tokka + kiss out of lust

or: the night Suyin was made bcs I totally buy that theory

“Y’know, I’m starting to think you have a thing for women in uniform.” Toph said, with a shit-eating grin. “I mean, Sukki, now me… probably other cases we don’t know about…”

“Pfft, that’s totally inaccurate.” Sokka instantly replied, only making her snicker even more.

“Oh, yeah? Where am I wrong, then?”

“I have a thing for people in uniform, thank you very much.” She lifted her middle finger when he said that, still keeping an amused expression nonetheless. “But you know what’s better than in uniform?”

“Sheesh, if you say something cheesy like ‘out of uniform’ or so…”

Silence fell, and Toph may not be able to see his expression, but there was no need either; she could almost sense the pout on Sokka’s face. Silence fell, but it didn’t last very long as a couple of minutes later they were both laughing.

“So you don’t want me to say it.” He then said, absent-mindedly tapping the part of her armor that covered her right shoulder.

“Nah.” She agreed, cupping his face between her hands, an easy task given how Toph was currently sitting on his lap. “But… let’s stop pretending we don’t wanna put it into practice, though.” Those last words were accompanied with a hungry, deep kiss, so intense there was no way to doubt about the intent behind it.

#tokka #toph x sokka #sokka #toph beiphong #atla #avatar the last airbender #it's actually post-atla and pre tlok but y'know #my stuff #clau stuff #ficlet #kiss prompts #bringing the kissus

[unevenpatterns]

Fic idea - Jet banging his way through Zuko's secret identities... part 4?

Do I even have to say that this is jetko? I've written a very E-rated series with the above title. (I think it's pretty self-explanatory what happens in this series). So far it's featuring:

Zuko as Lee (link)

Blue Spirit (link)

Zuko disguised as a prison guard in Boiling Rock (link)

It has been requested that I did a reveal fic or added more, but I really tried to alter canon as little as possible and couldn't quite figure out how to do it.

Until I thought; screw it, we're just going post-cartoon and I refuse to listen to the comics anyway.

So, maybe one last installment featuring: Zuko as firelord visiting his uncle in Ba Sing Se. He finds his old hooded cape to go undercover as a normal not-a-firelord person, just to get a moment of peace and have a drink in a random bar. (he doesn't want to hear more about tea, or have anymore handsy noble ladies trying to get his attention 😓)

Jet still lives in Ba Sing Se and after a misunderstanding with a hook up, he learns that he makes for a great fake prostitute. He lures rich looking guys in and then steals whatever they have and bring it back to his Freedom fighters. True Robin Hood style.

When he spots a man in a hooded cape sitting alone with what is clearly some expensive looking shoes and a full purse, he hits his next target... 💰💰💰

.

(I'm already halfway through writing this btw)

It is writen, E-rated, proceed at your own risk: Ao3 - So much trouble

#fic ideas #jetko #fanfic #zuko x jet #fire lord zuko #jet atla #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic idea #fanfiction #ficlet #jet lives #zuko #jet(avatar) #zuko's secret identities #these boys are a trainwreck #fic in progress

[dont-leafmealone]

i hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

read on ao3

written for @jetkoweek2023 , day 2: Ba Sing Se / soulmates

word count: 661

Rating: Gen

Warnings: none

On a cloudy night in Ba Sing Se, Zuko contemplates how his feelings for Jet have changed.

The lights of the city seem to shine especially bright tonight, a sea of stars reflecting what must lay behind the curtain of clouds that hung overhead. From the high vantage point on top of the wall between Rings, Ba Sing Se sprawled out below like a giant sparkling maze, Zuko feels lightheaded from more than the height.

"Kind of magnificent, isn't it?" Jet asks Zuko, his shoulder pressed up against him. His hand rests on Zuko's knee, tracing circles with his thumb. His words come out warm and a little slurred, the late hour, their previous run from the Dai Li, and the climb up here taking their toll. 

"Magnificent." Zuko tries out the word, gazing out at the Lower Ring — from up here, it looks like the kind of place Ba Sing Se is meant to be, light and alive, not what it really is; maybe because it's too far away to see the broken-down buildings and broken-down people.

Or maybe it's because, from here, he can see every street he's walked with Jet by his side. Every shitty hole-in-the-wall they've met in, to talk or to get food that's cheap enough for two to eat on the meager pay they both earn. The roofs they've raced each other on, the alleys and warehouses and other detours to avoid suspicious eyes when some less-than-legal job opportunity — such as earlier tonight — comes up. 

He can see his and Uncle's apartment near the tea shop, the light still on in Uncle's window. A few streets over, he knows like he was born knowing it, is where Jet lives.

Maybe magnificent isn't the right word for the rose-colored veneer his tipsy state has overlaid on the city. It's thrilling and exhilarating and terrifying, and if you had told him two months ago that he'd be feeling that over an Earth Kingdom peasant boy, he wouldn't have believed it in a million years. When Jet first started coming around more than usual, Zuko was certain it was just a fling. That it would end, that those feelings would melt away if he just tried hard enough to ignore them.

Now...he thinks, if this were to end, it would be impossible to walk those same streets, visit those same places. Everywhere he looks, the ordinary trappings of city life are indelibly printed with the memory of their time together; losing this (losing Jet) would turn the place into a ghost town. 

He looks over at Jet, whose head rests lazily on Zuko's shoulder, brown curls hanging in his eyes. There's a content smile on his face; it's rare to see him so at ease. Zuko likes his passion, his (for lack of a better word) fire, the way he can use words as easily as a knife or sword. It's easy to get lost in listening to him talk, easy to envy his grace and apparent sureness of himself.

The moments like this, though, where things slow down...Zuko's starting to appreciate them more and more. 

As light rain starts to fall, Jet uncurls from his comfortable position, pulling Zuko up with him. They make it to the doorstep of Zuko's apartment just before the rain really picks up; sheltering under the eaves of the roof, Jet shakes the rain from his hair. 

"Guess I'm gonna be soaked by the time I get home."

Zuko glances up at the clouds. Not far off, he can see the tail end of the downpour, with clear moonlit sky behind it. "You can stay here, if you want. It'll be over before long."

Jet smiles. "You're too kind," he says, in that way he sometimes does — where Zuko almost thinks he means it seriously, and he might. 

"I'm not," Zuko says, and he does mean it. Jet just shakes his head, kisses the back of Zuko's hand like he doesn't even have to think about it. 

"Come on. Let's get out of the rain."

#jetkoweek2023 #jetko #atla #jet atla #zuko #avatar: the last airbender #atla fanfic #ficlet #my writing #my fic #jet #thought about making this angsty but. I'm already doing angst for tomorrow #so this is just peaceful fluff

[friedchickenluver]

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳〔 to wear a crown 〕 | zuko x black! fem! oc | AN: just wanted to make a self-indulgent ficlet for my oc . (😚)| lemme know if yall want more kyana!

summary: kyana drags zuko to the best braider shop in her village, all just to met a woman by the name of yenim; the sole braider who seems to know all about hair and how to be yourself.

warning(s): swearing, aave use, fluff? , not proofread

wc: 1.3k+

ᴥ

watching the woman go to braid a client’s hair was fascinating in the least, she’s been at it for at least well over an hour and yenim never seemed to crack a complaint or try to hurry with her work. there were many individual square parts in her scalp to separate each and every long braided up piece of both her hair and some from a bundle of extensions. zuko could only observe quietly from one of the chairs that sat up against the wall as the two women chatted and laughed like they knew one another for years now.

the way her fingers articulated around each other to weave in another at least back-length braid struck him with curiosity. and so he continued to gaze as the other women worked her magic on hair.

zuko dragged his gaze around the interior of the hair salon, it smelled amazing for one, for two there were loads of faux hair hanging from small slots that were engraved into the surrounding area. a shelf that housed a plethora of hair products, sprays, shampoos, hair masks, anything you could really think of.

“Baby you alright? You ain’t hungry or anything?”

snapped out of his admiration for the sight around him, he turned towards the lady smiling sheepishly, “No ma’am, I already happened to eat out of the bar Kyana just so happened to drag me from.” a hand went to rub at the back of his neck, eliciting a breathy chuckle at his present shyness.

“Okay good, I’m just sayin’ it’s always good to ask for something you need. I’ll try to provide it to you to the best of my ability.” she smiled, looking back over to the lady's hair. “Anyways, why did Kyana bring you over to my shop? You must want me to do your hair too?” yenim joked.

“Ah, no, no, she just led me over here for some unknown reason. I wouldn’t know why.” he confessed before shrugging slightly. speak of the devil, kyana once again appeared from out the hallway leading to the main part of the shop. she sighed, going to lift and take off her mask.

“Hey ‘nim, you getting to know stranger over here?”

yenim giggled, “You’re always bringing these people in my shop with no interest in getting their hair done.” her eyes rolled playfully. kyana couldn’t help but to let a smile tug at the corners of her mouth, leaning on the doorframe to get a good look at him. zuko felt a bit embarrassed under her unwavering gaze, and also because of how unbelievably gorgeous she was under that white dragon mask.

“Well you know, I just so happened to pick him up while going to go beat Codi and Misako’s ass.” her face neutralized once more, never looking away from zuko’s direction. “What’s your name anyway?”

he hesitated for a moment, desperately thinking of an unrecognizable name. he still was in a village just on the outskirts of the fire nation, so he needed to keep a low profile.

“Li…”

a plus creativity zuko.

“Li…?” she repeated, seemingly unconvinced. her arms crossed, a thoughtful expression now renewed on her face. “nice to meet you then. I ain’t mean to scare you like that at Faye’s bar.” kyana remarked smugly, beginning to move back into the hallway.

“‘nim, you don’t mind keeping an eye on the boy while i go get some shea butter real quick?”

yenim, now on her final braid for the woman in her chair, extremely focused on the hair at hand, “I’ll watch him, you go ahead ky.”

with the flick of her own snow-colored locs, she left with a smirk playing on her face. her tongue swept over the plushness of her lips, hips swaying softly before disappearing out of zuko’s sight altogether.

he sighed, mellow and oddly content at where life happened to take him. it was quaint and calm in the earthy energy of the fairly large hair shop. the sounds of the windchimes outside gently clinking harmoniously, he hadn’t even realized yenim was already done with the client’s hair. he looked closely at how yenim took a pot of boiling water to dip her curled ends in, letting them sit for a few moments and taking the damp hair out of the pot. a wooden bowl that sat adjacent from the two women, she scooped her hand in to place a handful of foam on top of her scalp; massaging it throughout the expanse of the fresh hairstyle.

she practically squealed in awe at her new hair style, thanking her and handing over her proper payment for her hair. she took her leave excitedly, giving her a hug then going out the door of the shop, leaving yenim and zuko alone.

“so, have you ever been in a braider’s shop before?”

“no, my hair is always done at…uh…home so it’s not something that happens often.” he started.

“but for some reason your shop feels so much more homey than my own place. and it smells amazing here.” zuko couldn’t help but to smile at his last comment, and she returned the warmth back to him.

“yeah it does smell pretty good in here doesn’t it, I always think to pick the best assortment of products and incense to burn in here.”

he stood up and walked over to grab a nearby broom to help her clean up the floors, thinking it was only polite of him to do something while she’d worked so hard on someone’s hair for so long. “so how long have you been doing people’s hair for?”

she slumped back down into one of the seats against the wall before answering his question. “damn, maybe for around thirty years now.”

his eyebrows raised in genuine surprise at her response, sweeping up remains of tousled hair. she took note of his bewilderment, allowing a toothy smile to arise over her face once more. “Yep, although I haven’t had the shop open for that long, I just love everything to do with hair since I was young.”

“You put me to shame, I just now learned how to properly do my daughter’s hair without help from the caretakers.” the both of them broke out in a heartfelt laughter.

“Look, I was once in your position. It takes practice, and I’ll give you brownie points for wanting to learn how to do it yourself.” yenim crossed her legs, reaching for the nearby glass of water.

“Of course.” she handed him a newspaper to hold the stray pieces of hair now coupled together in a pile to properly dispose of it.

“So, how’d you and Kyana meet?”

he threw everything he cleaned up away, looking over at her to meet her knowing gaze. “Oh well, me and her accidentally bumped into each other while she was in a …predicament. I happened to be there and almost got a face full of fire.” He cringed at that last part, more to himself than letting her see his change of expression.

she hummed, taking another sip at her drink. “That girl is always hanging around those fools. I try to tell her they won’t lead her into anything but trouble.”

“Who is Misako and Codi anyway?” zuko moved over to sit next to her.

“Some thieves, I never pay any mind to it.” rolling her eyes, footsteps trailed their way back into the room both adults sat in. kyana once again appeared with two large bags in each hand, “I see you’re back already.”

“I only went down the road.” she heaved the bag onto the table nearby, smiling comfortably. “Li been on his best behavior?”

yenim looked over at him amusingly, and stared back over to her. “i say he was.” both women giggled as they watched a faint blush dust over zuko’s face.

“good” kyana smiled more genuinely at him, it meant a lot of more things than he could ever imagine as he smiled back. relaxing into the leather seats, the both of them stared at each other for a moment longer, kyana eventually broke the gaze going back to put up the new supply of shea butter.

ᴥ

#atla zuko #fire lord zuko #adult zuko #fanfic #zuko x oc #black female oc #avatar the last airbender #ficlet #[𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫‗ ❍] #black writers #not proofread #✧*̥˚ [works] *̥˚✧