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utterlyotterlyx · 20 days

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part One

Summary - As the ways of the world shift, you find yourself torn between those who have always cared for you and the life you feel like you were made to live.

Warnings - none right now really, some angst, harmless flirting, tension, slight fluff, mention of wing loss

Hauntingly beautiful was one of the few ways to describe the High Lord Eris Vanserra.

There was a rake-ish look about him, like he belonged in one of Nesta's regency era romance novels that had her eyes widened and bottom lip caught between her teeth. It was rather infuriating.

Tension continued to linger, one of doubtful trust. Rhys wanted to trust Eris, he wanted to trust that the new High Lord of Autumn knew what he was doing, but something was stopping your brother from investing into the change fully and you weren't quite sure what.

Eris sat opposite you in the meeting chamber, eyes trailing down your figure approvingly, a crown of golden leaves dipping to his brow and accentuating those russet eyes that always sought to burn you with their intense glare. It had been strictly forbidden for you to leave Velaris on your own after what had happened to your elder sister at the hands of Tamlin, you understood it of course, Rhys wouldn't survive if he lost you too, his youngest sibling but by far the fiercest creature in all of Prythian's history.

War was scoured into your bones, hellfire raged in your soul, and you were very well known for your tactical prowess and outspoken nature, from your quick wit to your dry humour. Some said that you were the reason that Prythian still stood, you had worked very hard to undermine Amarantha right under her nose, feigning innocence and naivety that she drank from like a fountain of youth, you had been instrumental in the war against Hybern too, and Eris had watched in stoic awe as you wielded your sword like it was an extension of yourself, gracefully cutting down your victims and using your power to decimate hoards of males into ash.

Eris wouldn't admit it, certainly not in front of Rhysand and Cassian who made it his mission to keep Eris as far away from you as possible, but he thought that you were the most incredible thing he had ever witnessed. And as you sat before him, draped in a sheer black dress adorned with white crystals that allowed him to relish at the picture of your full breasts, it was taking him a lot of will power to not fling you on that table and take you right there and then, even if your brother was watching, he didn't care.

The meeting was simple, Rhys wanted to know how the politics between the courts were to improve with Eris now at the helm and steering the Autumn Court ship. Feyre sat to the left of your brother, dressed in her usual ethereal pale blue, another garment made by your mother, but less impressive than the items you owned. You sat to his right with Azriel to your side, Mor, Cassian and Nesta occupied the seats to Feyre's left in that order, and Lucien lingered somewhere between, still on the side of the Night Court, put just an arms length away from his brother.

Eris was stoic and cruel, power radiated from him, but you seemed the be the only one who saw what lingered beneath that façade. The occasional split second glance he would direct to Lucien when he thought no one was watching, one full of regret and sadness. It seemed that there were many more layers to Eris Vanserra than any of you realised.

"How do we know that you won't rule like your father did?" Rhys had craned forward in his seat, his jet black crown glistening in the darkening sunlight that poured down through the domed windows.

Eris' jaw ticked, a clearly sensitive subject for him, your chin dipped in examination and for a moment, he glanced to you, fire in his eyes that mirrored the very faint sphere of orange that curled around pupils, "Would I have bothered to overthrow him to only rule like him?" Eris replied with his own question and you felt Mor scoff from where you sat, your older cousin not enjoying the sentiment one bit.

"Who knows what you males strive for," Mor bit, more like growled, at him, you face remained distant and cold, you didn't remove your gaze from him, everyone knew that they couldn't hide from you, you were too observant.

Guilt had swirled in your gut at the sight of him, under examination by a group of people he longed to be somewhat friendly with, to work with to better the lives of his people, and Velaris was rich in knowledge and power, it was a court that you would want on your side if you walked a second in his shoes.

It wasn't often, if at all, that you would speak at meetings, it was an unspoken rule for you to be seen and not heard, your presence was powerful enough, and you did have the knack for making things worse with your jabbing words, "Raise your hand if your father is a piece of shit," the room fell silent, and Azriel had his head dipped low to conceal his smirk, his knee nudging yours gently in warning.

Slowly you raised your hand and looked to Rhys who rolled his eyes, but didn't raise his own, he didn't want to indulge you. In turn, Cassian raised his hand, Azriel lifted a finger as did Mor, Lucien's hand raised with his elbow still firmly plastered on the arm of his chair, and Eris didn't dare partake, but you all knew his answer already. Counting under your breath at the souls that had answered your call, you relaxed into your seat, "I don't know about you Rhys but I don't think you're anything like our dear old dad. Mor is nothing like hers, nor is Cassian or Azriel or Lucien. If we were all held accountable for the actions of our fathers then we surely would live in the most tyrannical world possible, no?"

Rhys raked down the iron clad walls of your mind and you gave him a pointed look, refusing him entry and smirking at the twitch that pulled at the corner of his lip, "There is no evidence that Eris will be like Beron, and refusing him alliance only makes such possibilities more likely," you picked at an invisible thread of your sheer black garment and feathered your fingers down the bargain tattoo that curled around your upper arm, one that matched the mark Azriel bore in the same place from a stupid bargain you had made what felt like eons ago.

"In simple terms, brother," you fluttered your eyelashes at him, ignoring his clear fury, "Get over yourself and give it a chance. Prythian can't be a land of harmony when males with big egos can't see the opportunity before them."

Feyre had confined herself to looking at the wall, shifting uncomfortably at the colliding forces of power between you and her mate. It was never something she had the courage to stand between, she'd perish if she even tried. Nesta was smirking at you, the only one who would hold Rhys accountable and live to see another day, relishing in the fury of the High Lord.

Another nudge prodded into your thigh and you snapped your gaze to Azriel, "Will you stop nudging me?" You swatted at his thigh, "This world has been through enough already, Amarantha, Hybern, Koschei... It's time that we made a world to be proud of and we can only do that if we work together."

"Who knew that the fawn had a voice?" Eris spoke and you sent him a satisfied grin, Rhys looked to the High Lord and snarled at the name he had dared to direct to you, but quickly composed himself with a warning glace to you that meant he would deal with you later.

Matching is tone, you teased, "Thank you. My campaign for High Lady is imminent," Cassian let out an audible low chuckle, his shoulders shaking next to Nesta who was doing her best to contain the amused smile that fought its way onto her lips.

Typical y/n.

Looking to Rhys, you smiled and waiting expectantly, he seethed out his answer, "Fine," he moved his attention to Eris who was still smirking at you, eyes blazing with curiosity, "We will work with you, Eris. Let's call this the start of a long lasting alliance between our courts," Rhys rose to his feet, "Please feel free to stay the evening and join us for dinner. I will have a room prepared for you."

An olive branch, one that made you avert your gaze to Eris to see him nod in shocked agreement.

Rhys lowered himself so that his head lingered by your ear, his fingers curled around the back of your chair, and he growled, "My office. Now."

A chill slithered down your spine and you smiled thinly at no one in particular before rising from your seat and following Rhys from the room. The pair of you didn't utter a single word as he led you through the halls of the House of Wind, walls that seemed to shrink away from your pulsating energies as he led you to his office and shut the door behind your entrance.

"What in the name of the Mother do you think you're doing?" Rhys seethed as he rounded your smaller figure, towering over you to the point that he shrouded you in the shadow of his figure and flexing wings.

With a raised brow, you spoke calmly, "I highly suggest you take a step back and stop trying to intimidate me," his gaze softened slightly and he obeyed you, stuttering back a couple of feet and tucking his wings out of sight.

"Eris is not someone that we should have an alliance with," he leaned against his desk and watched as you turned around, lifting the heavy glass lid to his whisky decanter and pouring two glasses of the amber liquid before extending one out to him which he took without question.

You waited until he had taken a sip before talking, "Regardless of what you think, you know I'm right," you took the seat opposite the desk and nestled into the deep brown cushions, leaving him standing before you, "Rhys, you wear a mask to the rest of the world, in everywhere other than Velaris. Cauldron, you even make us follow suit. Has it ever entered your limited mind that Eris may do the same, that he too is hiding behind the mask he has created for himself?"

Rhys frowned, "Did you just call me stupid?"

Scoffing, you sipped the amber liquid and enjoyed the delicious burn that sank down your throat, "All you're doing is proving my point."

Rhys threw his head back and inhaled deeply, clenching his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose, "You know that I love you," he lowered his gaze to wash over you, but you didn't falter, you had never faltered under Rhys' glare, you were perhaps the only one who wasn't impacted by it, "You have to understand that I will always do what is right to protect our home, to protect you."

"And you have to understand that I will always do what is right to better the continent, not just our people."

The relationship between you and Rhys was a complicated one. There was a lot of love and respect between you, but his fear of losing you often clouded his mind. His word was law, but your word was the final judgement. The reckoning. There was nothing even he could do to change that.

Many males had attempted to get close to you, but none were good enough to appease the expectations of the High Lord of the Night Court. It wasn't as if you cared. You required an equal, someone who wouldn't diminish your power, and males had the tendency to attempt to control you.

Rhys had even refused your hand to Helion, much to your disappointment, and before the acts that led to the demise of your sister, he had refused to extend a thought to Tamlin who had clearly been besotted with you. Thank the cauldron for that at least.

"You have a strong will, y/n," a backhanded compliment if you had ever heard one, you rose from your seat and placed your empty glass on the bare surface to his left, "It will get you in trouble."

"Good. I can't wait."

Leaving Rhys alone in his office had filled you with far too much smugness and serenity.

The golden tainted pink hue from the sunset poured through the large windows, trickling up the walls and coating your skin in its soft shimmer as you paced before them.

Black fabric chased after your steps from your dress sweeping in the breeze you had created in your movements, you could feel the comfort of your chambers, you could almost taste it as you rounded the corner and entered the room without a second thought.

The familiar skitter of cool kisses swirled around your ankles and you didn't need to look up to see who was splayed across your cream comforter, "I know what you're going to say," you disappeared behind the thin clouded dressing screen and peeled your dress from your body, rifling through the railing full of ornate pieces whilst Azriel examined your silhouette from his place on your bed.

"Then I don't need to tell you how stupid you are," you looked over your shoulder at his words, like he could see your expression which was one of confusion and annoyance, "I swear you get more defiant each day."

Peeking your head around the corner of the screen, displaying your face and shoulder to him, you spoke, "It's the only exciting thing I have to do around here."

Azriel quirked a brow to you, his shadows dancing around his shoulders at the sound of your voice, "That's not true," you scoffed at his words and disappeared back behind the screen, continuing on your quest to find a dress for dinner, "There are plenty of things to keep you entertained in Velaris."

"Azriel," you deadpanned, not stopping your movements in plucking dressed from the railing and holding them up to your body, "Rhys doesn't let me do anything other than train and sit and look pretty and intimidating. I'm Velaris' glorified trophy."

A particular garment caught your eye and you smirked, taking it from its hanger and pulling it up your form. It was a stunning piece, one you rarely wore. An ornate solid gold bodice of blooming roses and ivy that connected to a red wine skirt that possessed a high slit, cream lace poked from the highest point of the slit and kissed your thigh.

"That's not true. He let you fight against Hybern," Azriel told you pointedly, seemingly becoming lost for words when you stepped from the screen and soothed down the skirt of the dress before bending down to secure golden heeled sandals to your feet.

"I fought against Hybern because there was no choice to do anything but that," you hadn't spared the Shadowsinger a glance but smiled softly at the shadows that curled lovingly around your ankles, you held two sets of earrings up to your ears and tilted your head in the mirror, "I'm sure if there was an option to stay home then Rhys would have gladly assigned the position to me."

Azriel rose from the bed, moving behind you and resting his hands on your hips, his hazel eyes boring into your reflection, "He worries about losing you. He couldn't stop what happened to your mother and sister, I think he just wants to be able to stop anything from happening to you," Azriel smiled at you and your orange ringed violet eyes softened at him, "Wear the red ones, they match the skirt."

"Thanks, Az," he hummed in response and took a step back, the place where his hands once lay turning cold and begging for more, "Shall we go to dinner then? What an exciting evening we have ahead of us," Azriel chuckled and offered his arm to you which you gladly took, allowing him to pull you from the room.

There was an unspoken attachment between you and Azriel, like it could be something more if you were both willing to risk your already perfect relationship on the notion of it. You both knew that feelings lingered, but if Rhys ever found out it would surely cause a civil war within your family, and you'd hate to think where everyone would stand in that battle.

The dining room had been beautifully dressed, a black tablecloth and tall golden candles, gold plates and coated silverware, ornate but expensive goblets and an array of blood red and orange flowers, no doubt a nod from Feyre of respect toward Eris.

Azriel left you at your usual seat with a subtle squeeze of the hand before rounding the table and taking his spot opposite you, scuffing the chair against the stone and sitting in it as you did in yours. Family members trailed in one by one, Nesta took her seat beside you and Cassian sat to her left, Mor took the spot beside Azriel and Elain took the other, then Amren entered, then Rhys and Feyre, the former of which nestled into his spot at the head of the table.

Then Lucien and Eris entered, and the High Lord eyed the last two remaining spaces, the one at the head of the table opposite Rhys or the one next to you, and Eris strode beyond his brother to steal that option. He teetered at the edge of it and peered down on you questioningly, "May I?"

Feeling Rhys' eye on you that you didn't dare to acknowledge, you nodded gently, "Of course," he took your answer in the palm of his hand and used it to pull the chair out, his scent of mulled wine, candied orange and pine filling your lungs as he sat.

Eris was dressed well, a red waistcoat adorned with golden swirls, a cream shirt that was tucked into the waistband of his black pants, like he knew to match your own attire, something that not only you noticed.

Idly, decanters of wine floated about the space, pouring themselves into the empty goblets placed at every seat, and food began to appear, dish by dish, on the long table. Platters of roasted vegetables, silver dishes piled with meats, bowls of fresh salads, boats of sauces, and most importantly, towers of desserts that made your eyes glisten, wanting to skip the main course entirely and help yourself to a slice of cake.

Clearing his throat, Rhys raised his goblet, tearing you from your salivating thoughts, "A toast," he smiled thinly at Feyre whose gaze shifted to you and then to the male at your side, "To new alliances."

The room repeated the sentiment before digging in, doing their best to ignore the swirling tension caused by Eris choosing to spend the evening sat beside you. Though, that soon vanished when Cassian started telling his many tales of his escapades throughout the years with the intermittent corrections from Rhys and Azriel.

"I should thank you," a low voice spoke from your right and you craned your head toward Eris, his hypnotising russet orbs were fixated on you, dark and full of wonder as they raked over your face, "For what you said at the meeting. I hope you weren't scolded for helping my cause."

Eris' voice was low, only loud enough for you to hear and you alone, his eyes were soft and stare void of that stoic cold that usually possessed it. He looked like a completely different person, there was actually kindness bubbling within him, genuine sincerity in his words.

"Rhys can scold me all he wants, it'll never change anything," you replied in the same tone, the orange ring in your eyes burning like wildfire, "Anyhow, it's a cause worth supporting."

From the corner of your eye, you caught Lucien watching you with intrigue, his fingers encased with Elain's atop the table with a knowing glitter lingering in his expression, he grinned as his brother spoke and leaned toward Elain to whisper something beyond your realm of hearing, "I can't remember the last time I saw you before Hybern."

Smirking, you asked, "Have you been thinking about me, High Lord?"

"It's not hard to," he replied honestly, watching the faint blush creep up your cheeks, "When was the last time?"

Humming, you thought about it, it wasn't often you actually left the confinements of Velaris thanks to your brother's protective antics, your eyes glazed over slightly, "It was Under The Mountain, at the beginning, after she," you rolled you shoulders, coiling them in the memory of that night.

That's right, the last time he had seen you before the war had been the night after Amarantha had stripped your wings from your body, carving them off with her talons to punish Rhys' reluctance. It had taken everything within Eris to not set her alight on the spot, if he could have, after he had seen your shaking pale form wandering the halls like a ghost.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's fine," you insisted, sighing deeply, "It's a fading memory now, I've adjusted well."

"I'm glad to hear it," the genuine tone to him was confusing, but you always knew there more to him than what met the eye, and part of you was proud to have been correct about it.

Eris had grown up listening to the stories about you and Rhys, two formidable winged warriors that exuded darkness and power, who held the capacity in their fingers to shatter kingdoms if they so wished it.

It didn't scare him. You had never scared him actually.

"Make the most of this alliance, Eris. It's very rare that I speak up on such matters," you told him, sipping from the wine in your cup and placing it back onto the tabletop under Rhys' watchful gaze.

There was an elegance about you, Eris noticed, the poised shoulders and perfectly slender pointed ears, the violet eyes with the speckles of Autumn orange, the grace laced in your words. It was a spectacular thing to witness up close.

"Then why did you?"

There was a moment of contemplation and you furrowed your brow in thought, "I can't sit by and be part of the reason why people suffer," very unlike Rhys, "Other than that," you trailed off, looking deep into his eyes like your violet pools were drowning in his soul, "I'm not quite sure."

Author's Note

Part one to the series I've been planning for awhile.

Prepare yourselves for a pining, needy slow burn with a hint of forbidden love x

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back2bluesidex · 5 months

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J-Hope Fic Recommendations (18+)

If you are already following me for quite some time then you should know that I am a massive masochist and I like to torture myself by reading and writing angsty stories. So, most of the stories that I recommended are angsty as well (might as well have sad endings). So please carefully read the warnings before proceeding. Have a happy reading.

And please don't expect much from me. There are several other rec lists far better than mine. The only motive I had behind creating this list to promote some of the stories, which I think are very underrated. especially angsty ones. These stories are beautifully written so.. I just wanted to let the authors know how phenomenal of a job they have done (As a writer myself I know how much this actually means). Thanks to these amazing writers and I am grateful that they decided to share their work here with us.

[Minors please stay away from my blog!]

Key: F - Fluff, A- Angst, S- Smut, Y- Yandere, *- Personal Favorite

Oneshots

1. Ash from his fire by @filmcrystal - A, implied S, cheating au

It will break your heart so please proceed with caution.

2. Forbidden Fruit by @deepdarkdelights - A, Y

This one deals with several triggering topics. Hence, read the warnings carefully. But I can say that you will love this twisted mafia Hoseok way too much!

3. Shadows by @borathae - A, exes au

One of the most underrated stories I have ever read! Yeah, it is very angsty and Hoseok is so cruel but... we all are masochist here. lmao!

4. Heaven sent by @aquagustd - A, F, S, f2l au

Sexy soccer player Hoseok is just another name for perfection.

5. Bound by @explicit-tae - S, kinda f2l

Talk abut BDSM! GOOOD Sweet Lord!!!

6. Jigsaw by @sunshinejunghoseokie - A *

I remembered crying after reading this one. So damn underrated that it physically hurts me!!

7. Delta Disorder by @bangtanintotheroom Y, S, Supernatural au

I don't usually read supernatural stuff but this demon Hoseok is way too sexy to skip!

8. Systems of Touch by @yeoldontknow - S, F, tiny A, S2l au

Beautifully written! The author used 100% of their capabilities to write this one. Perfectly drawn Professor Hoseok with a very attractive character of reader. Certainly a treat to read.

9. 2:00 AM by @likeastarstar - A, fuckbuddy Hoseok

Part of a series but can be read as a standalone. and Hoseok is a dick in this.

10. Love Quarrels by @mirahuyooo - A, F, mafia au

A cold yet soft mafia husband Hoseok chases behind his angry wife... could there be anything better than that?

11. The Hook Up ft. JK by @minisugakoobies - S

A little bit of a triangle.. but not love? if that makes sense.

12. Entelechy by @drmflm - suggestive (I believe)

Can't call this one angst and neither is this about Hoseok (he is there, don't worry). This one is more about the reader and her growth and it's beautiful.

13. Orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere - S, Y *

This is very dark and quite triggering, so please don't read unless you can handle those stuff.

14. For the night by @aseaofyoongi - A, S

I cried. that's all.

15. We Shouldn't by @beahae - S **

Hands down to one of my most favourite Hoseok smuts ever!!! This one has a Jimin follow-up so make sure to read that too.

16. Real or not real by @nmjoo-n - A, S, F **

Again one of the most exquisite Hoseok fics I have ever read!

17. Checkmate by @sunshinejoon - A, S

This was supposed to have a sequel but it is perfect regardless.

18. Do I wanna know - @yoongiphoria - A, f2? ****

Now, MJ knows how much I love this one. I often read this story and I never ever get bored of it! I love this to the core and you should too!

19. Scrap - @silv3rswirls - A, Y, S

Dark and sexy. Read the warnings carefully please.

20. It's a Promise by @sahmfanficbts - S, A, Arranged marriage au

Just read it.

21. Three by @hamsterclaw - S

Again.. VERY UNDERRATED!

22. Wonderwall by @kiara-ish - A with an open ending

Might not be for the faint hearted.

23. Infatuated by @bangtanfancamp - F

If you like high school love au then this one is for you.

24. Constellations of You by @persphonesorchid - S, F, established relationship au

This is so domestic that my heart almost exploded while reading!!

25. Burning flames or paradise by @/yoongiphoria - A, tiny f ****

MJ does magic.... that's all I can say.

26. Alone again by @archivedkookie - A, F

I loooove these kinds of stories. Just the right amount of despair with the right amount of hope... beautiful.

27. Feeling Good by @bonvoyagenoona - A, S

Everything I write about this will fall short.. so I will just shut up and let you enjoy the goodness.

28. Distracted by @dilfhoseokie - S

Ahem..

29. Drink Champaign in my airplane by @/bangtanintotheroom - F, S, F2l

Perfectly embodies a rich hot CEO friend Hoseok... a fun read.

30. Keynote by @missgeniality - S **********

MY MOST FAVORITE HOSEOK ONESHOT TO EXIST IN THE PLANET. yeah.. (this has a follow-up but I like this one better)

Series

The thing is that I don't usually read series. I just don't have that patience. So this list is pretty small and forgive me for that.

1. Transference by @dark-muse-iris - A, S, F, S2l *********************

[Completed]

I wasn't the same after reading this. I can't talk about this trantric therapist Hoseok, 'cause I will never shut up if I start.

2. Kanalia by @xjoonchildx - A, S, f (?) *********************

[Ongoing]

Honestly, who isn't a sucker for Lord Jung? You must be sick if you are not. (On a side note.. Kanalia is keeping me alive from jumping off trains on tough days)

3. Guarded by @/xjoonchildx - A, S, F, S2l

[Completed]

Mafia Hoseok with dogtags. I think that's enough of an introduction.

If you want to read the Hoseok stories I write, you can checkout my Masterlist.

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astrophileous · 7 months

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Love Bugs (Pt. 07)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing, mentions and/or depictions of death, near death experience, usage of guns, mentions of injuries resulted from physical violence, mentions of strangulation, pregnancy, somewhat religious undertones (very minor), I think that's all?? Pls inform me if I missed any

Word Count: 3200-ish

Tag(s): @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @bruher @spiderlillie00 @f1lov3r @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI!! I can't believe we're finally at the end of Love Bugs OMG!!! Thank you so much for everyone who has stuck by this series through its ups and downs. I was initially planning to write an additional chapter to close off this story, but I realized that this is the right part to end it. With that said, I am open to taking requests of blurbs/headcannons for Love Bugs if any of you would like to see more from these two. Just send me an ask and I'll make sure to check it out! This story is my very first derek and criminal minds fic altogether, so it's pretty emotional to be saying goodbye to it. Again, thank you so much for reading Love Bugs and I hope you'll be around for any derek/other criminal minds fics I might have in the future ❤️ Don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek knew that letting Hotch take the wheel was a mistake.

He was already marching towards the driver's side back at the HQ's parking lot when the older man had stopped Derek before he could get in.

"Your head is not in the right place right now. The last thing we need is to get into a car accident when (Y/N) desperately needs our help," Hotch had reasoned.

Derek obviously couldn't argue with that.

But Lord, did he wish that he had actually argued with that. He kept internally cursing his boss for not going fast enough. Never mind if the speedometer was teetering towards 60 miles per hour, it still just wasn't fast enough.

A phone call from Spencer and JJ came in around 5 minutes before Derek and Hotch were supposed to reach their destination.

"His new office is empty," Spencer had said. "She's not here."

That new piece of information meant that you were being held either at the UnSub's home--where Emily and Rossi were heading to right at that moment--or the old office building that, according to Garcia, had once belonged to the UnSub's father.

Derek wished that the office was exactly where the UnSub had been holding you all this time. Not because Derek wished to be the one to find you first--of course not, he couldn't care less about that--but just because Derek would prefer it more if he was the one to face the UnSub and point the barrel of his gun at your abductor's head, watching as the fired bullet penetrated his skull before the scumbag dropped dead onto the ground.

As soon as the SVU pulled up to the driveway of the office building, followed by two police cars, Derek wasted no time climbing off his seat and out of the car. His steps were tenacious as he stomped towards the entrance, purposefully ignoring Hotch's frantic calls of his name.

"Hey, wait a minute, Morgan. Slow down."

Derek pushed past a frowning Hotch, fully intent on closing the twenty feet distance between him and the front doors. But Hotch's hand on his shoulder faltered his steps once more, and Derek couldn't rein his anger when he finally decided to face Hotch.

"What the fuck do you want, man?!"

"You can't just barge in there. We need a plan."

"A plan?" Derek scoffed. "She could be dead by the time we draw up your stupid plan."

"Morgan," Hotch's voice came with a warning. "You're not thinking straight--"

"Hell yeah I'm not! (Y/N) could be inside right now, fighting for her life, and you wanna talk plans?" Derek took a step forward, leveling his burning gaze with Hotch's eyes. "You're the one who caused us this mess, Hotch. Do you really want her blood on your hands, too?"

In the many years of him knowing Derek Morgan, Hotch never witnessed such fury in the man's eyes. These were the eyes of a man who had nothing to lose. A man who was ready to sacrifice everything because his whole world was at stake.

"You're staying behind me," Hotch said at last. "Don't do anything rash, or I'll be forced to have you sit this one out."

As much as Derek wasn't satisfied by those conditions, he knew that it was the best option he could have, so he relented.

Under Hotch's command, the group of six split into three pairs as soon as they stepped inside the treshold. They checked every room in the two story building, but they all came up empty. Once they were back outside, Hotch received a phone call from Emily and Rossi.

"There's no sign of them in the house as well," Hotch said, repeating the exact words that Emily had informed him over the phone.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe he's taken her some place else. I'll call Garcia and see if she can pull up any other potential location."

As Hotch waited for the tech-analyst to answer, Derek began darting his eyes over the entire building once more. None of it made any sense. He knew that it was impossible, but something told him that you were close. You were nearby. Just a sliver away from his reach.

It felt like he had been staring at the building for an eternity when it finally dawned on him.

"Hotch," Derek called out, feet already moving again towards the front door, "this building has a basement."

Derek didn't wait for a response as he barged inside.

Behind him, the other five people scrambled to catch up with his pace. Derek went to recheck all of the rooms in that building, banging on suspicious looking panels on the wall and testing the integrity of the floor beneath him.

A clanking sound in the distance eventually tore his attention away. The mysterious noise was soon followed by a shout from one of the uniformed officers.

"We found this," the officer reported as soon as Hotch and Derek stepped into the furthest room in the building.

On the ground, a rusty metal bookcase lied haphazardly. Right behind it, a wooden panel on the wall was gaping. Derek locked eyes with Hotch, a silent confirmation, before Hotch nudged the panel wider with his shoulder.

The hidden room led to a flight of stairs leading them down towards a dingy basement. Hotch motioned for everyone to follow him as he stealthily moved towards a metal door on the far side of one of the walls. As Hotch grabbed its handle, Derek tightened the hold he had on his gun.

Everything else had transpired in a blur.

Derek only recalled seeing that horrific scene playing out in front of him for less than a split second--the image of that bastard putting his filthy hands on you--before his instinct kicked in. Two bullets from his gun; one to the shoulder and one more to the neck.

Derek barely even registered the gurgling sounds the UnSub was making as he rushed towards you.

Derek's heart was glass as he knelt by the chair, each piece shattering against his insides with every mark, cut, and bruise that he could see littering your skin. He still remembered the feeling of your naked skin under his fingertips. Soft and tender, like frosting on a cake. But now?

Now, it looked dull and lifeless.

With heart in his throat, Derek moved to touch your limp form. "Bug?"

No answer.

"Hey, (Y/N)? It's me. I'm here, Bug, please open your eyes," he pleaded. "Wake up, sweetheart."

The pressure in Derek's chest inflated. His palm felt ice on your face. His fingers around your wrist scrambled for any sign of life he could find, but there was none.

"Hotch! Hotch, she's not breathing!" Derek called out, a sentence made out of nightmares. "Help me get this off!"

It felt like an eternity until Hotch was able to hand Derek the metal cutter, which they then used to free you of your restrains. Your body slumped instantly into Derek's arms the moment they cut off the last metal cuff, and Derek tried not to dwell over the fact that you felt stiff and cold against him.

"You're okay, sweetheart," he murmured as he laid you down on the ground. "Come on, you're okay."

Those words kept repeating themselves over and over again as he started doing compressions on your chest. Prayers towards a God he hadn't spoken to for a while also slipped past his lips. Prayers for a miracle. Prayers for the heavens to allow Derek to take your place instead. Prayers for the universe to please, let him have more time with you, please, please, please.

"Morgan." Hotch's hand fell on his shoulder, but Derek never faltered. He kept on pumping your chest, willing for your heart--his heart--to start beating once more. "Morgan, the paramedics are here."

Reluctantly, Derek let himself be dragged away from you, giving room for the first responders to do their job. As he looked down upon his hands, Derek noticed that they had been shaking. Violently.

"Please be careful," Hotch spoke up. "She's pregnant."

"Clear," one of the paramedics announced before another one pressed the shock button on the defibrillator.

Derek stared helplessly at the flat line shown on the heart monitor.

"Again. Clear."

Every second that passed by was an inch of blade through his chest. Every second you teetered closer towards death was also his life undoing right in front of his eyes.

Derek thought it was over. His world was crumbling to ash all around him, stripping down the colors until all he could see was gray. He was standing on the brink of its wreckage when suddenly, he heard one of the paramedics yell, "We got a pulse!"

And just like that, Derek's knees gave out underneath him.

"Morgan!" Hotch caught Derek's shoulders, keeping him up before the younger man could collapse completely on the floor. "Hey, she's okay. She's gonna be okay."

Derek could only nod his head in response. Words tasted like lead on his tongue as he struggled to catch his breath. Tears streamed down his face like a burst dam after a rainstorm.

For a second there, Derek thought his world was ending.

But as he stared feebly at the paramedics wheeling your body away, Derek couldn't stop thanking the universe for giving him another chance. One more chance to be with you. One more chance to make things right.

This time, Derek was not going to let it go to waste.

Darkness was peaceful.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

But you had always wanted to be something.

With a heavy heart, you made the decision to say goodbye, to come back to the life that had been your constant for the past decades. To a world that, beneath all of the bad things you had witnessed in it, still had some good worth mentioning, too.

Like Derek Morgan, for example.

Despite everything that happened, you could never deny that Derek was a rare example of good in the world. And he was exactly the person who occupied your mind when you gradually regained your consciousness, letting yourself amble further from the promises you had rejected from the darkness.

When you finally opened your eyes, it felt like your body had been dragged through much more than mere mud.

Fluorescent lights blinded you almost instantly. You turned your head in order to escape the onslaught, but the pain radiating through your entire body made you whimper instead.

"(Y/N)." A gentle hand landed on your shoulder. "Hey, you're awake."

You blinked away the fog that had gathered in your vision, trying to make out the silhouette in front of you until it morphed into a recognizable face.

"JJ?"

"Yeah, it's me." She smiled. "How're you feeling?"

"Not particularly great."

JJ breathed out a laugh. "I figured."

You groaned quietly as you shifted yourself to a new position, JJ jumping in to help even before you asked her to.

"What happened, J?" you questioned once you had settled comfortably.

"I think that's a talk for later, (Y/N). For now, you need to rest."

"Please--" you grabbed onto JJ's wrist, "--I want to know. The last thing I remember was... was..."

Being strangled.

That was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark.

JJ's eyes flashed with understanding. "You were barely alive when help arrived. It was a miracle that Hotch and Derek got there when they did."

"Derek?"

The smile JJ gave you was full of hidden meanings. She gestured with her head towards the other end of the room, towards the direction you hadn't even once inspected since you woke up. A worn down couch stood against the wall, and on top of it, cramping himself into a position that was surely not comfortable, was the person you had been hoping to see since you opened your eyes in that dingy basement.

Derek.

He was sleeping with his arm draped over his eyes. He must have been tired, you thought. Or otherwise, he wouldn't have been sleeping so soundly in such an awkward position.

"How long was I out?"

"About two days." You couldn't hide your shock when you looked at JJ. "He never left, (Y/N). He refused to leave your side."

JJ's revelation compelled your eyes to stray towards Derek once more. You missed him. You were still missing him even when he was there, in the same room as you were, safe and sound.

As if she could dissect the content of your head, JJ spoke up again, "Do you want me to wake him up?"

"No, please. He needs the rest."

"Pretty sure he needs to see you more than he needs his sleep, (Y/N)."

Ignoring your protests, JJ circled the bed and approached the run-down couch in the corner. You watched with a drum in your chest as JJ gently shook Derek awake, smiling to yourself when you see him open his eyes blearily.

"Someone wants to see you," JJ informed, nodding her head in your direction.

It was as though a switch had been flipped somewhere inside of him. The moment Derek saw your eyes looking at him, any trace of exhaustion he was previously feeling automatically dissolved in a heartbeat.

"I'll better step outside," JJ announced, already retreating towards the exit. "The others would want to know you're awake."

With JJ's departure, the atmosphere in the room instantly shifted.

Before you could process what was happening, Derek had seemingly transported to your side. Now up close, you finally saw the lines of fatigue etching on his face. His muscular shoulders drooped slightly as if the weight of the universe was forcing him to forfeit his energy little by little.

Sitting by the bed, Derek looked hesitant as his hand hovered over your own. You eventually took matters into your own hand, tangling your fingers around his until there was no room for escape.

"I've missed you," you confessed.

A watery laugh rumbled past his chest. In his eyes, a cloud of tears had begun to build. He stared at you with such fervent. The person who owned his heart, the one he thought would take it away from him to the grave.

"You scared me," Derek confessed as well. "I thought you were gone for good."

"It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me," you tried to joke, which, judging by the expression on Derek's face, was not something he appreciated very much. "Wait. Derek, the baby--"

"Is fine," he cut you off, preventing you from spiraling any further. "The doctor said they need to monitor both of your conditions for a few days. But for now, the baby is fine. So are you."

You released an appeased breath before dropping your head back on the pillow.

"How long have you known?" Derek suddenly asked.

The question was inevitable. You knew sooner or later it would come up, but that didn't mean you were not still taken back when it did.

"A couple of weeks," you replied. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I understand why you didn't." Derek smiled ruefully. "After everything I said to you--"

"We both said or did something we regret."

"Yeah. Me more than anyone."

"Derek--"

"No, Bug. You gotta hear me out." Derek took a deep breath, the frown between his eyebrows deepening as he stared straight into your soul. "I want you to know. I want to make sure that you understand how sorry I am for everything. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I'm sorry I said all of those horrible things back in Iowa. But most importantly, I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth.

"The truth?"

"I love you, Bug."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"I love you," he emphasized. "I don't know when it started, if it was before or after our arrangement began. I just know that I do. These past few days have been hell for me, Bug. I've watched all kinds of nightmares imaginable in the years I spent on this job, but none of them compare to what I felt when you were gone."

A stray tear escaped from Derek's eye, constricting your chest even further than ever.

It was the first time you had ever seen him cry.

"I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this. But whatever you want, I promise that I'll be there. For both of you." Derek's palm landed on your belly, right on top of the small bump that had just started to grow. "In any capacity you allow me."

Your whole body erupted in goosebumps following Derek's admission. His sincerity rendered you speechless. It seemed like hours later when you could finally find your voice again.

"Did you mean all of that?"

"Every word."

"Good. Because I love you, too."

Derek's expression faltered ever so slightly.

"I want every capacity you have, Derek. I want every part of you, every part you're willing to give because I need you. We both do."

Derek's smile, despite the tear streaks on his face, was the definition of relief and joy. He kissed your knuckles a million little times before leaning forward to claim your lips. It was a breath of fresh air to have his lips on yours after such a long time apart. Even then, Derek was still familiar. He tasted of home.

Hours later, the rest of the team stopped by to check on your condition and to congratulate the two of you over the little life that was soon to become the newest member of the BAU family. Once the crowd had dispersed, your hospital room fell quiet once again.

In the midst of that comfortable silence, you persistently tried to convince Derek to go to sleep in his own bed for the night.

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

"Derek--"

"Do you really think after what happened, I'm just gonna let you out of my sight? Hell no. I'm sleeping here. End of discussion."

"It's just one night, Derek. I'll be fine," you assured him. "You can't possibly be comfortable on that tiny couch. You should go home and get some decent sleep."

"The only way I can get a decent sleep is by making sure you're safe, Bug. So, please--" he tugged the blanket higher around your body, "--stop your yapping and get some rest."

You eventually yielded into Derek's incessant commands and allowed yourself to relax, not before giving him a very defiant pout that earned you one sweet kiss from the man.

It didn't take long for sleep to take over your body. But even once you had fallen into a very deserved slumber, Derek couldn't find it in himself to close his eyes. After the tornado that these past few days had been, a love confession from you was the best reprieve that someone like him could ever dream of. It still seemed so surreal that a part of him feared going to sleep just for the tiniest bit of chance that everything had, in fact, been a dream.

So, for one night, Derek figured that sleep could definitely wait.

For one night, Derek would spend his time thanking whatever higher power had listened to his prayers and sent you safely back into his arms.

The love of his life. The center of his universe.

His Pretty Bug.

Along with the Little Bug that was still growing life inside of your belly.

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iveriee · 7 months

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hiii!! how are you lovely? id like to request a tom riddle x soft!hufflepuff reader? reader has seen him as her best friend since first year but then she over hears him talking about how he does not care for her :( so now he just wonders why she’s no longer “clingy” or sweet to him. hurt&comfort, angsty ish, i just want a grovelling riddle 🫠🫠

★;ANSWER: Of course! I'm doing well, Thank you for asking. I apologise if this is not to your liking.

★;CATEGORY: Angst.

★;PAIRING: Tom Riddle x Gn!Hufflepuff!Reader

★;SUMMARY: in which.. he repents his actions.

★;PS: This fic contains severe mentions of toxicity and a slight implication of death and violence. If anything of the sort makes you disheartened, then i would suggest you not to read this. As I mentioned, I have been quite stressed due to my examinations and Henceforth the quality of this fic may be a bit lower than expected. I attempt my very best to improve my writing. Once again, English is NOT my first language and hence, feel free to correct any grammatical incorrections. Writing non-yandere fics is quite strange for me and i apologise if I have accidentally made him into a yandere. I'm aware you mentioned a Fem!Reader, however I'll be doing a Gn!reader as to be more inclusive!Of course I had to use 'perhaps', 'henceforth' and 'quite'. And of course, i had to make Abraxas Malfoy an utter jerk.as it's a headcanon of mine that the Malfoys are all jerks.

Perhaps they presume us not to cling to others—to adhere to the cinders of a strained candle, of a relationship that ceased to live. To cater to it's ghost, it's bones. With one ray of aspiration, that the other would return. Yet you did. You had ever since that day. That evocative day in the Great Hall. That day when you ventured to befriend Riddle. That day when you shelved your sorrow as if it was a gruelling test you so utterly detested. And perhaps, you always would do so. Whether it was inadequate or purposeful, you paid heed to him. For six years, you had done so now. Yet none of your amiability ushered reciprocation from him. None. You'd praise his talents. You'd jest with him. You'd attempt to find solace in his ignorance. Of course, that was, not possible. You were human after all. Perhaps, it was due to you being a Hufflepuff? Perhaps it was as he did not how to convey his feelings? Perhaps, you utterly and desperately desired to invent an excuse for his behaviour.

And Henceforth, one abominable day, when your potion transformed indictable, far off the path of the accurate instructions—You tilted your gaze downwards. The mortification was quite too much for you. The air smeared you, resulting in quivering. A mere reach for your quill felt like a distinguished task. To mix lumber to the fire, An awful act happened. Which, of course, had to include him. Prying your ears, you examined. To distinguish the start, Riddle was frowning at the sight of your dismay(perhaps, not your dismay..).. If you had, perhaps, attempted to tell anyone that, they'd blaze into laughter. Of course, he did not look any less appealing, even whilst frowning. (If you knew the correct reasoning, that is)

However, of course, somebody had to destroy such a thing and that git was indeed Abraxas Malfoy. Perhaps, he ought to diminish the tension. And Henceforth Malfoy cast a repulsed look...at you..perhaps? "[Last Name] is a scatterbrain." He spoke to Riddle. "I think you're acquainted with them, My lord?" Imbecile you concluded to yourself, scowling. Yet the act that cast the most anticipation was Riddle's response. Your heart blazed. Sweat grazed your cheeks. Would, he, perhaps, come to your defence? It was juvenile,a foolish reassurance, the concluding luminosity of your life. Perhaps he cared. The mere wonder of it made you smile. (albeit somewhat slight)

If Tom concealed his feelings, then, perhaps he was quite proficient at it because his thoughts were utterly and completely inscrutable. Your frame began quivering. You steadied your gaze and examined him, with a surge of internal reassurance. "If that is,perhaps, what you believe to be true, then I must say, I do not care for [Last Name] and nor do i have no intention of paying heed to them." He stated firmly, causing Malfoy to flinch. "They are merely a classmate and a stranger to me."

Engulfed. That was the stature of your luminosity. Engulfed by him and the vicious wave that was sorrow(certainly a wave you'd never get over of). Tears plunged your cheeks before you could make of it and your lips closed on eachother. Restraining your palm against your mouth, you quivered. No, this had to have been another formidable nightmare of yours—it had to have been. He could not have been so...cruel. He had to have considered you as an acquaintance, at the very least . You loved him. You indeed did. With all your heart. Ever since the day you first gazed upon him. And yet, this was the conclusion, the answer to your persistent affection? You had splurged years in the aspiration that he'd...care. You were, sincerely and utterly pitiable. Life was an anguished tale. And, of course, you were the one having to suffer it.

And henceforth, this very abominable day, you quit your attempts to gain heed and he began his.

[★]

Perhaps nobody at Hogwarts with an orderly mind would have ever believed that Tom Riddle yearned after a mere Hufflepuff . Neither would the Hufflepuff in interrogation. Of course, he displayed no clues of mourning. On the budding days, he discovered no need for your juvenile affection. It was otherworldly to even wonder that he would require you. You brought no assistance to him and he regarded you as a 'mere nuisance.' Yet as herbage mutated copper—honed and gnawing, plunging onto the vicious month of October, The Hogwarts castle glinted with eerie ginger and blazing green, the act of ignorance from you towards him became...perplexing.. to say the very least.

It felt vacant. He felt vacant. As much as Riddle cherished his pride, He was almost wounded by your actions.You no longer bothered to praise him tenderly or adhere onto him. You no longer attempted to even gaze at him. However, as he had reassured himself quite alot of times, he had no requirement for you. And so henceforth, he persisted with life, excelling and being applauded like every other common day. Yet, you cannot merely plunge sorrow by detaining it. And perhaps, it shall make the matters worse when it rises, sizzling up to the surface to swamp you.

That sorrow certainly rose early.

And assisted with a broth of envy and guilt.(though, of course, he would never admit so) You had, at last—created proper friendships with amiable people, unlike, a very certain somebody whom you, precisely, despised now. To examine you speak to others, to see you content;considerate, sympathetic (Not with him, of course) slashed him with envy so utterly disdainful. In an instant's heed, He began to covet you, to crave you. He ought to have your affection once again. To possess your sweet, agreeable praise again. To have you clutch onto him. To fluster you, and—And perhaps, even kill to do so. Of course, the victims' identities were quite evident. Perhaps, it was merely amusement he required from you. Or perhaps, he may have, though quite unlikely, fallen in love.

And so henceforth, one agreeable day, when you had attempted to plod to the Black Lake—only to be approached by him. You felt satisfaction and hatred as you utterly refused to gaze at him.Your reasoning,being,the way he gazed upon you. You felt a rooting inclination to speak, yet, of course, you did not, allowing him to begin this clutter of a 'conversation'. (you could swear to Merlin that you had examined sorrow in his eyes!). The silence stirred distant. He spoke. "Greetings, [Name]." It felt as though you had, perhaps, heard the most astonishing wonder in the world. "I aspire that you are doing well?" You scowled at such a cloyed question. "I suppose i should get to the point, shouldn't it? Indeed, I would like to apologize for my behaviour. As you are aware Malfoy is—"

"An imbecile, yes." You responded curtly, frowning at the mere sight of him. He was,perhaps, too bewitching for you to be furious at. "Quit the Formalities, Riddle..."

"Is that so?" He questioned, inching quite near, smiling viciously. "In mere words, i would be honoured to rekindle our.. friendship." His smile diminished and his handsome face reeked of vulnerability. It was equivalent to viewing lime skies. Your heart ached to embrace him, to weep onto his chest, to allow him to comfort you—Yet, you could not fulfill it. You had dignity. And yet, you had love. Towards him. And perhaps, you always would. Tears boiled once more, and you gazed at him. He embraced you, and you had what you had so potently ached for. His hands cupped your cheeks as he smiled at you and you returned the act, though in tears. Joyful tears. Perhaps, he even shed a tear himself. (though unlikely). He pressed his lips onto yours and so did you. Profoundly. "Repentance, perhaps, inched us nearer, didn't it, love?"

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hp fandom #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #angst #sad #happy ending #regret #tom riddle angst #fanfic #tom riddle x Hufflepuff reader #wizarding world #hp fanfic #voldemort

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darlingofvalyria · 7 months

Text

An abandoned church made most of broken wood and whimpering winds becomes a momentary resting sanctuary for Uhtred and his men— Osferth finds himself with a crooked root in the shape of a hand, a gold ring, and a full, blue moon.

╰┈➤ PROMPTS ❝ COCK WORSHIP, ORGASM DENIAL ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,830 ] [ masterlist ] | Osferth x Ghost Bride!Reader

contains— smut, fluff, angsty-ish - corpse bride!au - this is not the N word okay, you're a ghostly being that becomes corporeal. it's monsterfucking, not that kind of filth - no use of y/n - mentions of christianity lol - dillusioned!reader (if you know the movie, you know) - mention of character death - nsfw: sort of dubcon, smidge coercion, cock worship, orgasm denial(?) - no betas.

a/n— ok, but i am actually very proud of this one!! i enjoyed writing this way too much, adding a bit of comedy aspect to it shdhs. i hope you enjoy it!! oh, also this is the vibe you want if you wanna listen. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

His pack rests behind him, the couple of bundled furs he uses for bedding has hardened into the cold ground, not at all aiding his sleep. Around him, his lord and the rest of the men had managed to fall into their dreams, almost as soon as they closed their eyes.

Even Finan, with a furrow in his brow and his arms crossed, has his head tilted awkwardly to one side that Osferth knows is going to be painful in the morning.

But sleep evades him, and though he scarcely believes in ghosts, resting in a church, no matter how abandoned, no matter that there's gaping, charred hole that has blown over the side of it, trickling the cold, winter winds and soft, wet snow— it feels odd.

It brings a restlessness and a comfort all the same, and with a few minutes more of staring at rotting wood and broken awning, Osferth sighs. Their small fire is dying, might as well get more dry sticks.

The church, though broken and ruined, offers warmth. Once he's out into the wintry night, the pale moonlight bright and full, glittering the wisps of fluffy snow as if you don't come out wet if you sink on it. It's cold. Much too cold to walk, to linger, but he continues. He winds to the other side, leisure in his pace, breathing in the cold whilst warming his hands with his mouth.

It's nice to find a rhythmic motion that empties his thoughts. It is nice to be out of Wessex, out of familiarity. Uhtred brought with him adventure and battle, honour and excitement. It quieted the wrought in his head... until night comes, and Osferth is left with the weight of all those he tries to bury.

He walks quite a bit, observing and carries a faint sadness for a few graves that are left. Some opened, unearthed by grave robbers, uncaring of the Christian faith. Wooden plaque holding no names, just crosses. He moves past, finding himself entering the forest before he could think through it until he comes across a clearing. It's surprisingly, perfectly circled, trees at the side adjusted like soldiers with a curled root at the centre.

Curious and kind of awed at nature, at the wonder of the existence this little tree root, curled and cold, he dips one knee as flutters his fingers over it. The thin spindles look like curled fingers, a hand reaching in a hooked angle.

When he pushes his hand forward, curling his fingers against the root, Osferth makes a surprised hum at how fitted, how perfectly it holds like a hand against his.

Osferth doesn't notice you, dancing between the shadows and moonlight. Hit by light and you fade with it, more air and light yourself than life and physical flesh. You had seen him and his men find the scarred church and setup camp. The four men had not been the first to find the abandoned place, nor had taken refuge.

And time is everlasting when you're dead. Meaningless when there is no end to days and nights.

But he is different, you muse, watching him unable to sleep and walk and walk until he reached the clearing and your cold, dead heart feels a tug.

Does he know you? Is that why he is so different?

You slink between trees, hiding behind a trunk as you watch him kneel where your body lies, curious and awed, watching as he holds your hand, curling his fingers around your own.

Your left hand flexes, a surprised giggle falling from your lips and disappearing with the wind as you feel his warmth. His hand as if he is holding your own. Human touch fades from memory in a span of time and it is a pleasant hold.

Look down, you try to say, excitement you've never felt before, thrums through your body. Look down and see the ring!

If he does, you know do not need to know who he is. You know who he will be.

Look down, look down, look down! Please! you are practically screaming, jumping in the shadows as his eyes, beautiful blue like your favourite butterfly, is entranced by the glint underneath the snow. You hold your hands to your chest. Oh, please! Please, Please look down!

You exhale, feeling life sweep back into your mouth. There. There you are, you say soundlessly as he picks it up. A gold band worn with age but gold it still is. He twists it around, and though others have tried to steal it, pocket it and sell it, you know he is different. His warmth is different. There is kindness in his eye that you like.

And God, is he pretty. You would not mind at all being his bride.

You're on one knee, now propose, you say, willing the vows of old and binding to reach his ears. He twists it and as if playfully entranced, he mutters the words that you echo back in the shadows.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows," Osferth murmurs, the words he's listened once as a young boy, hearing the priest anoint two lovers who had escaped to bond their love. "Your cup shall never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."

He raises the ring and places it on your crooked, dried fourth finger— and you inhale air, wintry and cold and so, so alive for the first time in a very long time.

"And with this ring," he says.

"I ask you to be mine," you finish, startling Osferth as you glide toward him. Triumphant. He stumbles, falling on his bum as your arms widen around you in all your ghostly bride attire and glory. "My love! I have waited for you for such a long time. Good thing the ice and winters have been kind to my body and you still manage to find it!"

Though in truth, you had plowed against hard ground to at least unearth your left hand while most of your body had been abandoned. Your skull had cracked in three places, and there's a worm who made a permanent home in your dried liver. But your new husband does not need to know that.

He gapes at you, wide eyed and unblinking, and just as he starts you yell? Shriek— You stumble to him, falling on his lap as you press your hands against his mouth. When you don't pass through him, you let out an excited shriek.

"Oh, my apologies, I don't mean to scare you!" You pout, aged old sadness wisps beneath your eyes. "Please don't scream, my love. I have waited for you for so long. And you're so warm... and so real."

As shock permeates his face, frozen under the feel of you pressing against him— there is weight, he can feel you. You're not as warm as him, cold in fact, and he is able to see through you if his eyes adjust well enough. But you are there. He can see you and he can feel you. Your wide, unblinking eyes drinking him in, exuberant smile composed of pretty lips and a mesmerising happiness. Your hair cascades around a ruined, fluttering veil with dead flowers atop your head.

But by God, you are beautiful.

Your wedding dress— because you are a bride, are you not? Were a bride, Osferth's head is starting to ache from trying to look through and at you — are in tatters and holes, showing more of your skin than what your dress initially thought to show and he swallows. He can see a creamy thigh exposed through a slash. It doesn't help that you're bent over, resting between his legs, and he can see the top of your breasts.

On your end, your hands are just there, on his face, and you start exploring his pretty visage. His warmth is addicting, gliding your fingers through his nose and pretty cheekbones, tickling yourself on his lashes with the pads of your fingers and you giggle. The sound makes Osferth exhale shakily before you are cupping his sharp jaw and your fingers touch his lips, your own mouth turning into an 'O'.

Oh, they're soft and a little chapped, a little cold, but his exhale entrances you. His show of pure, breathing life is tantalising.

You lean in closer, nearly touching his lips with your own as you try to inhale his air. He smells of smoked meat and dried ale. Winter woods and burnt campfire. Your hands drift from his mouth to his neck, to his chest. His heart. There in your palms, you press tight. A quickened heartbeat nestles beneath and you exhale, smiling ruefully.

"My husband." Osferth's eyes widen at the pure adoration and lust in your gaze. "You are wonderful. My wait is worth it."

"Hold on, l-lady." He captures your hands in his, eyebrows furrowed. He swallows as he can feel you both corporeal and wispy. If shadows can be held, he thinks it would feel like this. "H-How am I your husband? Sorry, I've— I don't even know your name!"

What's more is that you're a ghost! But something in his head tells him not to speak aloud such a thing, for another, he isn't sure he hasn't fallen back in the encampment with the others. A bizarre dream of a very pretty, ghostly bride is for one an embarrassing topic to broach.

"Oh. That's right!" You giggle happily, offering your name and Osferth tests in his tongue. A pretty name for a pretty bride. "What's yours? Though, I'm afraid I prefer to call you husband, and would prefer to be called your wife. Or 'your love'."

At another helpless, tinkling laughter, Osferth blushes. Your eyes are distracted by the colour in his cheeks, so long ago contained your own but no more, that you take your hands from his and start petting the rosy tint again. He's so warm that you start nuzzling into him, your head burrowing into his neck.

"O-Osferth." He clears his throat to get your attention. "Osferth, lady."

"My wife."

"Sorry?"

You start to pout. "Call me 'my wife'."

Osferth starts to shake his head. "Lady, I really don't—"

"I am your wife now. See." You sit up, pointing back to your dead hand, gold ring glinting under the pale moon. "You've made your vows and given me the ring. We're married now." Your gaze darkens, your form shimmering and Osferth yelps as you had gotten ice cold. "You have made your vow, Osferth. Are you telling me you do not honour your vows? Are you a man without honour? Is there another... woman?"

Your hands on his face sharpened, like ice, digging through his skin as iff trying to embedded yourself into his skull. He cries out, taking your wrists.

"No, no! I— yes, I am your husband now. I am. There is also no other woman!"

You cock your head, still frowning. "Are you sure?"

"I'm wearing monk's robes, lad— wife," he says helplessly.

"But..." You cock your head to the side. "You don't seem too shock of a woman's body. You're very responsive to me, my love, I enjoy it quite so."

This time, he blushes deeply. "I— Goodness, okay. I've had practice... s'all."

"With... whores?"

He cringes, waiting for you to turn mad, pure ice cold and tear through his skin like you almost did, but you only hum when he nods.

"That is alright. That presents more of a challenge than an obstruction of our love."

"Challenge?" he asks as you gently push him on his back, straddling his hips. You slide your palms up and down his torso almost as if he is a campfire and you are warming your hands.

He swallows at your confident grin before you blow him a kiss and he exhales a laugh, his mind truly unconnected from his body because there is a ghostly woman on top of him, adoring him with flirtations, and he is stirring in his pants.

Truly, he must be deep asleep, in a more awkward position than Finan.

If I am, he thinks watching you with a blossoming attachment. Please, by God, don't wake me.

With a seductive intent, you slide down from his body, making sure you pay a special wiggle in his tenting manhood that he feels a lightning bolt from his cock to the ends of his nerves. He doesn't truly understand what you intend until you've unlaced him and paying special attention to his now, semi-erect appendage.

Osferth is red and sputtering, unable to find the strength to stop you.

You get your face impossibly close to his manhood, your unbridled attention makes his cock inflate until you test a teasing finger from beneath, circling his balls, up and up until you tease the slit and his hips jolt.

"G-God, Oh goodness," he spits, white knuckling his woolen coat. "Please do something. D-Don't just—shit." You test a tongue, laving the underside of his cock until pearly white essence beads from his slit and you lick it experimentally. It tastes salty, inexcusably human and alive, and you decide you like it, especially when you watch Osferth writhe, unable to decide what to do from such teasing little touches.

"Good thing for you husband, your wife made sure to serve a keen listen to gossiping wives behind the church after mass. Well before the raid burnt it all down." You got yourself comfortable between his thighs, loving how snugged you fit against his warmth here, as well as having a beautiful of view of your Osferth. "They spoke salaciously of what keeps their husbands to their beds."

You give him a wink as you enclose your hand on his cock, giving it a firm tug and he chokes. "To keep the whores away." You start slow and teasing, wanting to see what movements pleased him the most, what made him sigh and groan, jolt, hips chasing the feeling of your hand that started to warm and get wet, both from his excitement and the teasing licks you give.

When he started panting, you took your hand away. His head bobs back adorably at you, frowning. "W-Wife? Wha—" But you don't let him finish, sitting up on your hunches as you replace your hand with your mouth, feeling the stretch as he throws his head back again, neck arched. It doesn't hurt, momentarily uncomfortable as you test the feeling of it, the weight now so full in your mouth before you start moving up and down, eased by the slick and guided by his pretty sounds.

And Osferth has been on the brink of peak multiple times, but you kept stopping or slowing midway. At first, he surmised it must be your first time, unused to a man in your mouth but eager to give him pleasure, which he can't help but feel deep fondness for.

By the third peek he's been deprived off, and the little smirk playing on your lips, he realised the truth. But your mouth is a different story. It's hot and heady, just like a real mouth and his stomach is clenching, his pleasure tightening that he's got tears in his eyes, apologising as his hips chase his high in your throat but by the rumble that rocked his cock, it seems as if you were trying to tell him it was okay.

When you started massaging his stones, he was gone. White hot pleasure broke behind his eyelids that he grabbed your head, your veil and hair, dead flowers falling into light as he came, hips stuttering, before holding you down until the last drop of his spend is in your mouth.

He releases you with apologies, chest heaving with tears in his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, lady, I— inexcusable." He stared gently cleaning your face, unable to realise how much more solid you had become, how much more colour bled in your ghostly blue.

But as you sit back up, you're grinning, unmistakable pride in your gaze as he wipes the corner of your mouth tenderly. You take his fingers before he wipes it on his trousers, coated in him, and licks them clean, sucking hard with a little giggle.

"Good boy," you say. Osferth shudders, his cock already painfully stirring once more.

The Lord have mercy on him. Were there ghostly vixens? Did he marry the only ghostly vixen?

He can't say he's too mad about it.

"Hmm. So that's what it tastes like. I think I like it." You smile, rubbing his thigh. "I also think we are going to have a fruitful marriage, sweet Osferth. What we only need now is one thing..."

He blinks at you. "Hm?"

"Death, my love." You blink back at him owlishly, snapping the dagger strapped to his side. "How can we stay together when one of us breathes?"

Christ, I already have an idea for part two...

#osferth #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth fanfic #kinktober 2023 #osferth smut #osferth fluff #tlk fanfic #tlk fanfiction #tlk smut #tlk fluff #︶꒦꒷♡ elle tries kinks ♡꒷꒦︶#elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#the last kingdom #tlk #osferth scenario #ewan mitchell characters

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turndecassette2 · 8 days

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I do remember those magic knight people! Every once in a while I go back on your blog to try to track down those drawings because I like them and the concept in the description so much. I would love to hear more about them. Do you have a story planned out?

yeah, vaguely. so for the cosmology; there's this dystopian city I desperately need to draw a map of built above the fossilised remains of an ancient hell. the city mines the hell for 'hell-flesh', a semi-sentient magical substance that's kind of the physical container of the souls of the damned. I suppose this is like fantasy rare earths for fantasy compute or w/e. this has been going on for a while and the city is, kiruna-style, gradually falling down the pit. also as more of the hell is laid bare, semi-autonomous demonic creatures are let loose, maybe as a kind of immune response against human incursion.

(imagining this sort of thing + branching passages. but in the middle of an italian intra-feuding city-state w a population ca modern day singapore)

a kind of grid of bridges and fortresses has been built above the pit to protect the fancier, upper parts of the city from the decaying/descending bits below. the lower city is mostly miners etc & due to the fucked up mutagenic influence of living near a hell & touching hell stuff all day the people in the upper city treat them with suspicion. there's a 'join the US navy-army-whatever to get health insurance & education & basic human dignity' or like french foreign legion situation where by joining the elite magic army manning the little fortresses, ppl from the lower city can gain some access to the upper. in the reverse I guess for the upper city ppl it functions a bit like 'the wall' in asoiaf where criminals, noble bastards etc go to maybe redeem themselves or die horribly.

the fire magic used by the guards to fight demons etc is derived from the burning corpse of a god that is said to have been there since before the founding of the city (presumably the entity responsible for the hell situation in the first place). by swearing fealty to this dead(-ish) god one gets the ability to summon his divine flame but you forfeit your chance at an afterlife, or maybe you go to hell (no-one is quite sure). everyone kind of assumes once the body is fully burned the god will return/reincarnate (and either save or destroy the city, depending on who you ask).

the politics part; at its founding the city was part of some empire that has since collapsed (pretty recently). the city is dependent on trade to stay viable/fed and to appease the new warring states/mini-empires that have sprung up around it. the current ruler is a reclusive young queen & she has her favourite lord/advisor, an ageing academic who is sort of trying to liberalise the place or make it superficially less fashy. other lords dislike this & are working to either find her a proper king or hasten the return of some deity or other that will return the place to its former glory.

I guess the story? has this noble child bastard protagonist from a shady family* of word-mages who is sent to the 'centre' fortress & works her way up to become the apprentice of some hero-knight demon slayer guy with a possibly shady past (I think rn the name I have for the guy is Chaimé & idk if this is a good name? like the spanish jaime but w more e, & the tiny bastard is Myia I think). I imagine her being the sasuke to a happier, more popular girl who saves her from a demon (embarrassing) then is outed as a half-demon herself (she's the redhead in the drawings) & Myia warms up to her as she (demon girl) becomes increasingly isolated from the outside city (being supposedly dangerous or too powerful? I don't think Myia has much natural magic or w/e in her aside from being a nerd & very persistent).

sorry there's a lot here that would be SPOILERS if I ever actually made this into something coherent enough to be an actual comic ha ha. the knight/mentor guy gets dragged into a kind of fantasy 'business plot' & I guess part of that would be like, seeing to what extent he goes along with it & if he's actually a good person ha ha. + there's a bunch of other characters w stuff going on that I haven't figured out the looks of yet but. they're important in my head. the big bear-ish bf guy who gets sent on an expedition down the pit etc

* I have a distinct image of these people living hidden away in some gormenghast-style estate. they've habsburged themselves into being mostly deaf but the only ones around who can fully read/write the divine language that lets them do word-based magic & the other houses kind of have to put up w their weirdness. also scheming nobles in dune using sign language is 1 of my favourite things in the new film adaption & I like the idea of outsiders being forced to learn to sign (or else being cut-off from higher level magic) as some sort of power move? I don't think they involve themselves that much in politics since that's below them but are def part of the 'bring the gods back' thing, for better or worse. anyway after 'avas demon' (GUILTY PLEASURE I know it has such pretty colours but comes from such an unhinged part of the internet, will never stop apologising for this) started posting again I realised it had a character w the same look & vibe so will try and re-design protag girl to look more like this cute person I saw in a fashion post on IG

... let's see how this goes. came up w all this BS after some viz lady at comicon asked me if I wanted to make them a manga but it's grown from being too little to being too unwieldy to pitch. will see after I finish up my current projects. how much blood, swearing & genocide can a story have before it stops being YA. I think chainsaw man is sort of YA but dorohedoro isn't

#I started reading dorohedoro as a teen & I turned out OK #I mean I draw comics I live w my parents in the woods like a medieval peasant etc but that's no worse than the rest of society #these days #god this is a mess #16 yo me loved the bas-lag books #an ask #sorry abt grammar etc this is a lot of words

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gabessquishytum · 6 months

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Alpha Hob rescues an omega Dream in the middle of pre-heat from a group of bandits.

They’ve got Dream trussed up and gagged while they laugh about waiting until he’s good and desperate, and Hob, who was collecting wood for his own camp nearby, doesn’t hesitate to catch them by surprise and either kill or drive them all off. He brings Dream to the cave he’s set up in, unties him and gives him a bit of food and water, and gently explains his options.

They're too far from any town, and Dream too close to his heat, to find the omega suppressants or a different partner. So if he wants an alpha to help him through his heat, then Hob is willing and able to do so, and he swears he won’t take advantage and claim Dream as his mate during it. If he doesn’t want Hob, he’s also willing and able to stand guard and protect Dream through his heat, and no matter which he chooses Hob will happily escort him wherever he was heading afterwards.

Normally Dream wouldn’t agree to share his heat with a complete stranger, but even aside from the normal heat desire for an alpha, Hob is handsome, smells divine, has been gentle and courteous so far, and seems serious about letting Dream decide. So he agrees to share his heat with Hob.

Hob continues to be a gentleman, helping Dream get as settled and comfortable as possible in a cave, making sure they have food and water in easy reach, and even after Dream’s heat officially begins he waits for permission, giving Dream one last chance to change his mind, before proceeding to take him apart.

Hob seems to be on a mission to give him a record-breaking number of orgasms, as when he’s not busy fucking Dream he’s busy swallowing Dream’s cock or burying his face in his pussy. Even when they’re knotted he’ll play with Dream’s cock until he’s cumming again. Hob keeps his promise about not mating him though, even when a heat-drunk Dream starts mouthing at his neck at one point.

By the end Dream is utterly exhausted and completely sated and passes out for a bit. When he comes to Hob is clothed again and seated by a fire, working on a proper meal. Dream comes over and promptly sits on Hob’s lap, still naked, and imperiously says that he’s decided he’s keeping Hob. They can go back to Dream’s castle (did he not mention that he’s a nobleman? No matter, it’s not important) and get to know each other properly, and they can formally mate at his next heat.

-🪽anon

Aakskdkfk lucky, lucky Hob. Imagine his face when he finds out that Dream is the local Lord! Hob is no bandit but he's not exactly on the right side of the law - he only ever expected to meet a nobleman while being sentenced to prison or something. Being told that the Lord wants to keep him is a turn for the better.

Dream comes home (much to the relief of his family and friends, and Matthew who was supposed to be keeping him safe on their ride through the forest...) with his head held high and Hob one step behind him. Eyebrows raise at the sight of the alpha who smells of campfires and dirt and... Dream. Seems like his lordship has picked a mate at last, and as usual he can't be normal about it.

The castle gets a little bit of getting used to, and of course Hob feels the need to come clean about his... less than legal exploits. Dream listens with darkening eyes and finally smirks. He tells Hob that being Dream’s mate is more than enough punishment for anything he might have done. Plus, he finds the idea of Hob’s criminality rather exciting. Dream has lived quite a sheltered life, and a gentle, handsome alpha with dark past is pretty much his idea of a wet dream.

Hob hardly considers it a punishment to become Dream’s alpha. Sure, Dream is stroppy, controlling, arrogant, and not particularly omega-ish. But Hob likes his spunk and fire. He likes kneeling between Dream’s legs and making him cum over and over. He's got exactly zero complaints.

Once they're officially mated, Hob is basically Lord Dream’s trophy alpha? It's his job to satisfy his omega, see to his needs, love him, and make his heats as pleasurable as possible. It's also his job to fuck an heir into Dream’s womb, but it turns out that they already managed that on the first try! Obviously Dream made a good choice of a strong, verile alpha.

Hob also takes great delight in hunting down those bandits and personally thanking them. The bandits don't have much to say for themselves when Hob is finished, but they got the message before they died. No one messes with Dream. And Hob might be gentle with his omega, but he'll quite enjoy killing for his love.

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse #cw mpreg

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iloveslllycatss · 7 months

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ALL MINE

genre: fluff omg. | pairing: firelord!zuko x fem!reader

authors note: i haven’t written nothing in so long wtffffff.. also if it’s bad just kinda deal w it cus like this is my first time writing in like a year ish…… i used the word ‘snuggled’… don’t talk ab it. PLEASE. and it’s lowk hard AS FUCK to write for characters ik don’t talk the way i talk 😭 this is kinda ass

you stood at the balcony. just taking it all in. with your boyfriend becoming the new fire lord and all, you haven’t seen him much lately.

you missed him. like crazy.

he never liked it when you waited up for him, but that’s exactly what you did. you sat on his bed, your back against the headboard. your eyes closing every now and then, with you forcing them open every time. you wouldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep before he got home. and when he did, he called out for you

“y/n?”

his voice called out. your eyes immediately open, the corners of your lips curling up into a smile “zuko, your home” you say as he takes his jacket off, hanging it up and taking his shoes off, putting them to the side before he comes over to you.

“you waited up for me? it’s late, baby”

his voice was like honey. and his face looked tired. his eyes decorated with dark circles, though they aren’t much of a decoration they were beautiful (to u that is). his soft, warm hand made its way up to your cheek, cupping it. “missed u while you were gone”

you half-assed your words, making your voice sound tired (which you were). he smiled a bit at this, finding you cute. before changing into something he could sleep in and making his way under the covers and patting the spot next to him. “cmere” he said. his arms open, waiting for your presence to fill them. and when you layed down next to him, his arm wrapped around your waist.

he was on his side, facing you. his arm around your waist and your arm on his chest, you also on your side. the way he looked at you made you nervous. it was a look of pure love. he adored you with all his heart, and it showed. his honey-colored eyes and long eyelashes just beautiful.

with his arm on your back, his warmth engulfed your body. his firebending warming up your body, which was always cold. you unconsciously scooted closer, snuggling closer to the man you claimed. you closed your eyes, relaxing completely. he watched you do so, smiling at you. he was always sweet with you. you always kept moments like these closest to your heart.

it was just perfect.

he was all yours, and you were all his.

this is so ass bro don’t even

#atla zuko #atla x reader #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko atla #prince zuko #zuko #fire lord zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #atla #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n

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ghanjrho · 10 months

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A:TLA; how it should have ended.

Recently, I've been on a deep dive into the A:tLA fandom, specifically the Zutara sphere. And that means I've found a lot of long-form meta on the show, it's ending, LoK, script final drafts, you name it. That's all gone in the brain blender, and here's what came out the other side.

Sozin's Comet honestly doesn't change that much; only two real differences.

The magic rock is gone. Instead, we get a flashback to Guru Pathik, and Aang realizes that he has to let go of his attachment to Katara.

The Maiko/Kataang victory laps in the last 5 minutes are gone. Mai and Zuko get a scene where they wish each other well, but acknowledge that they're over. Katara and Aang have a nice moment where they choose friendship. There's love there, but it's Philia, not Eros.

@burst-of-iridescent has a delightful essay series on Zutara, and the part that sticks in my head is that in the run-up to the finale, Aang and Katara are at their least unified. To wit:

In "The Southern Raiders" Aang is preachy, condescending, and more than a little hypocritical about Katara's plan to take vengeance for her mother. The episode ends with Katara explicitly rejecting Aang's belief that Yon Rha was forgiven.

In "The Ember Island Players" Aang is distraught at the idea that EIP!Katara's statements, namely that Aang is like her brother and she's attracted to Zuko, are true. When he questions Real!Katara about this, he responds to her statement that she's confused about her feelings by kissing her. The kiss is not returned. Again, no resolution is had.

Finally, in "Sozin's Comet Part 1" Katara is part of the chorus condemning Aang for refusing to even consider killing Ozai, no matter how many people are at stake. He runs off from the group, and from there disappears into the Spirit World to get Lion-Turtled. Yet again, no resolution, and the two don't reunite until the tea shop.

Now speaking of the Lion Turtles, I'm actually not opposed to them. Yes, they come out of nowhere to deliver an 11th Hour Superpower that handily spares Aang from having to actually make a choice he disagrees with, but at the end of the day it is a kid's show. Nickelodeon was never going to approve a script where Aang killed Ozai. Throw in a little bit of foreshadowing, and I'm good. It's worth noting here that the story of Avatar Wan was supposed to be covered in A:tLA, which would handily cover that requirement.

Now, for the post-canon. We'll start with Fire.

Zuko is NOT left alone in the Fire Nation. Similarly, Iroh does NOT fuck off back to Ba Sing Se.

Toph and Suki stick around. Suki in her canon role as commander of Zuko's Kyoshi Warrior bodyguard, while Toph and Mai use Toph's lie-detection and Mai's insider knowledge to purge threats to the new peace.

Toph eventually goes back to the Earth Kingdom to start a metalbending academy, but first she needs to make sure that her Sparky lives to be the grumpy old man he was born to be.

While Iroh is correct that for political and diplomatic reasons Zuko needs to be Fire Lord, he also bows to the reality that Zuko is plain and simply not ready to be the Fire Lord.

Zuko went from 4th in line to 1st in line basically overnight, and the 5-ish years he spent as Crown Prince were clearly not spent preparing him to succeed Ozai.

So a teenager with a fairly surface-level understanding of "how to monarch" has to self-Reconstruction the Fire Nation, while paying reparations, without having been militarily conquered.

This is how idealists get assassinated. New Plan!

Zuko is crowned Fire Lord. Iroh is his Prince Regent. It's very clear to all involved that Zuko is the one charting the course forward for the Fire Nation, while Iroh is there to convert intent to action, while teaching Zuko how it's done.

It doesn't hurt that Iroh is one of the Fire Nation's most successful military commanders, so the civil war route is a lot riskier for anyone to attempt.

Next, Sokka

Sokka honestly has a pretty good arc in the post-canon. Nothing I really feel the need to correct.

Eventually, Suki is able to hand off her duties in the Fire Nation to someone else and goes home to Kyoshi Island

It’s still home, but it isn’t the same. Or rather, she isn’t the same.

She never leaves the island behind, but it’s usually a stop on the journey from Wolf Cove to Republic City.

Then, Aang

Aang divides his time between Avatar duties and Last Airbender duties.

Avatar duties involve a lot of sitting in on meetings and reminding people that the ultimate goal is peace.

Last Airbender duties involve a lot of teaching Air Acolytes everything he remembers from his childhood. He gets lucky here, though.

The Airbender Genocide wasn't complete. More than a few Air Nomads escaped the Genocide, and hid themselves away. Some in small villages built in remote mountain valleys, others blended into Earth Kingdom settlements.

Plenty of quarter- or eighth-Air Nomad kids running around with airbending potential they never had the knowledge to develop. Think very early Book 1 Katara here.

The result is that a resurgent Air Nation is being formed, with a culture woven from the threads that survived through relics, the refugees, and Aang himself.

Airbenders are still rare, and it's over a decade before another airbender earns their mastery, but it's not his son and his grandkids when Korra comes around.

Finally, Katara

Katara spends a lot of time traveling. She spends time in the South Pole, helping to rebuild and learning Southern Style Waterbending from the released waterbenders. She also travels the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, doing what she can to solve problems.

There are a lot of problems to solve.

Her travels in the Fire Nation are particularly fruitful; word of the Last Agni Kai has spread, so she is known to be the one that the Fire Lord sacrificed himself for, and who healed his wound.

She and Zuko stay in contact, allowing themselves to have a slow-burn courtship.

After a couple of years she moves to Caldera City and starts getting down to seriously courting Zuko, preparing herself for Fire Ladydom.

The year before Iroh is set to retire as Regent, she and Zuko start thinking about the wedding.

There are a lot of potential traditions to uphold, even just between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation

This goes double for the daughter of the head chieftain of the Southern Water Tribe, and the Fire Lord himself.

They decide to have fun with it and do everything.

Aang presides over a private ceremony, family/close friends only, that is really just a mutual declaration of love and friendship.

Then come the Southern Water traditions. It's the full gamut, with ice-dodging, sacred hunts and more. In the end, Zuko is an honorary member of the Southern Water Tribe, and he and Katara are wed (again).

There's a diplomatic tour through the Earth Kingdom, stopping at Kyoshi, Gaoling, Omashu, Ba Sing Se, the Foggy Swamp the former Fire Colonies, and ending at the Northern Water Tribe. The language used artfully slides over whether the couple is newly married or about to be married, but overall it works well for the Fire Nation's reputation abroad.

The final act is in the Fire Nation. A full Royal Wedding, a grand affair of state, held at high noon on the day of the summer solstice. When all is said and done, Zuko and Katara now rule alone as Fire Lord and Fire Lady.

Alright, I have more, but I'm tired. Tune in next time for the Fire Nation (extended) Royal Family! featuring Steambabies (Found here)

#atla #zutara #fixit #fire nation politics #all the weddings #zuko definitely has the mark of the too stubborn to die #its not called that #but still #avatar the last airbender

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bucknastysbabe · 5 months

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Rating: Explicit

Tags: Loss of virginity, Criston is champ (who likes to be a bit puppy), Lady Dondarrion is a plus sized queen who doesn’t play around, pnv!sex, begging, set before HOTD, He learns alot that year Lmfao, pwp-ish, this is actually super soft

You stared from a high walkway, your companion next to you. Serena Caron was your closest friend and cousin. She was sent to Blackhaven as a girl. She tilted her head down at the training yard, eyeing a familiar yet changed face.

The newly knighted Ser Criston, the son of Blackhaven’s steward. Your uncle Arlan had knighted him since they returned from the last skirmish over the Boneway. He had grown into his gangly body, a man grown now. The dark haired knight was fearless with a Morningstar.

Serena noted, “He burned two water towers on the Boneway. Ser Criston was knighted soon after. He’s eight and ten now. Quite handsome you think?”

“Very much so. Much more handsome than the boy who stuttered and blushed to his ears when I spoke to him. When Cole was a squire still. Arlan’s ‘cole-black shadow’.” You snickered with Serena, clasping her arm, eyes catching the dark orbs of the steward’s son. You gave a smile and he nodded briskly, returning to training.

Your nightingale giggled, “He had to have gotten his cock wet by now. You know those camp whores flock to knights like flies to shit.”

Scoffing as you traveled down basalt steps, you replied, “Definitely not. He’s still green as the Mistwood. I’d imagine young Cole is like his father Wilhelm, all duty no fun.”

Serena’s dark eyes sparkled as she taunted, “Are you afraid your little childish flight of fancy has turned into a big handsome knight? Can’t moon over the highborn girl when his title can get many a pretty girl.”

Your cousin knew the jealous streak of yours. In your younger years, Criston was the cutest boy in the keep. You’d playfully tease and flirt with him, getting his stutter riled up and face darkened. You still wanted a piece.

You pinched her, snarking, “Oh don’t rile me up, you conniving songbird. He’s green and I can prove it. Make those pretty eyes wet with tears from my cunt alone.” The matter of your maidenhead was pointless— your husband Benjamin Tarly laid dead. Too soon for any seed to take.

Eventually some other lord’s wife would die in childbirth and you’d fill in. You were merely wedded and bedded at the tender age of 16 and now approached 22. The heir of Harvest Hall’s wife was rumored to have difficult births. Marcher to marcher, Selmy’s were not bad.

Whatever. You’d seduce this handsome knight and make him whine like a pretty maiden, doleful eyes begging you for relief. Serena interrupted your lustful thoughts and laughed, “Alright. If I’m correct, you get to brush my hair for a month.”

You sighed in annoyance regarding Serena’s thick curls.

“If I’m correct, you have to finally ask my brother for a dance,” you stated with a sniff.

Serena sputtered and blushed, slapping your shoulder. The Caron lady hissed, “Oh you witch! Beron thinks I’m a silly little girl.” Those two were so oblivious the Vulture King could spy their chemistry from Dorne. You shooed off your best friend.

“I’m off to seduce a maiden, wish me luck!”

She cursed you with a laugh, turning to her quarters.

Criston sat lower at the table for dinner, moved up above the castle guard and lowborn workers, bastards. Knighted now, he still retained a solemn disposition. There was fire underneath, not any soldier took initiative like he did near the horrid lands of House Wyl. Ambition lay underneath his puppy-ish face, baby fat all gone. Striking, with those deep eyes and tousled curls.

Wilhelm seemed to be preening, he boldly claimed his son would easily find his way to glory. Just needed some tourneys to get his name and skill out there. Criston gave a shy smile, sculpted lips curling up, tan skin darkening a shade.

You sipped on wonderfully bitter wine, eyeing him shamelessly. Serena snickered from your side. The young knight met your gaze and held it, brows furrowing in confusion. Placing the goblet down on the dark wood of the table, you licked your wine-stained lips, tossing your hair.

Criston averted his gaze, suddenly finding his supper very interesting. Shy little pup. You murmured, “Green. Green as the Queen’s dress.” Serena shrugged, “A highborn lady of the house he’s sworn to is much more intimidating than a whore.”

Supper was finished, servants coming to clear the plates. Abruptly standing up, you left to wait in a dark corner, eyes peeled for his fine frame. Ser Criston was clad in the familiar faded red of his small house. Annoyed as others filtered out, Arlan had cornered the object of your desire with your father.

Likely talking about horseshit and the upcoming tourney in Ashford. You waited and waited until they split, passing you by. Your Lord Father questioned, “What are you doing dear? Skulking like a ghost.”

Feigning innocence and batting wide eyes you simpered, casting a look to Ser Criston, “I simply wished to ask our valiant new knight about his adventures!” Arlan grinned and pushed the lad forward, “Go ahead, he’s too damn humble. Night my lovely niece.”

“Thank you nuncle, night to you.”

They strode off and Criston seemed like a fish out of water, eyes wide with uncertainty. He furrowed those dark brows again and asked, “What would you like to know about?” You hummed, “Walk with me and tell me all about it, before you get carted off again, Blackhaven’s new wonder!”

He gently took your arm and the pair of you strode around the basalt stones of Blackhaven. He seemed to ease up after some conversation, describing the bleak circumstances of the lands. You shuddered at the descriptions of the men lost and mutilated as a warning.

He asked a couple questions of his own, how your were holding up. What marriage offers may lay on the horizon. Chivalrous talk, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in the banal affairs of a Lord’s daughter. It warmed your heart some, your late husband was more concerned with hunting around Horn Hill.

You stopped the knight, conveniently at the doors to your chambers. He looked at them, back to you, and back to the door. Criston stuttered, “O-oh uh- it seems our walk has come to an e-end.” You smiled in a feline manner, placed a hand on his chest, felt his rapidly beating heart.

He inhaled sharply, unsure, murmuring nervously, “Lady Dondarrion, T-Tarly, wh-what’s going on here? This is unseemly for me.”

You shrugged, “Dondarrion. My maidenhead is gone and I desire you,” plastering your body to his you purred, “Since coming back on that black gelding looking like a maiden’s fantasy.”

He made a soft noise, eyelids fluttering, hands clenched at his sides. You murmured into his ear, so close your lips grazed the shell, the poor thing shivering, “If you desire to have me, the offer is standing now. Take it or leave it, Ser Criston.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, the pair of your stepping backwards into the door, lips meeting feverishly. He’d had some experience kissing, pretty lips easily moving with yours. He opened the door, more awkward stepping, then the dark haired man sealed the room shut.

His big hands wrapped around your corseted waist, gripping with a delightful force. Need emanated off the man, his broken noises slipping out between increasingly wet kisses. Your nimble fingers began to unbutton his doublet, exposing a pale undershirt and his lightly haired chest. He had a gorgeous golden chain upon tanned skin.

You pulled back, Criston softly whining and chasing your lips. He panted as you purred, “I’m a big girl sweet Criston, can you take it?” He nodded eagerly, seeking to get back to lapping your plush lips. Obviously he didn’t care of your curvy body, soft places that bothered you. Your mother passed down that.

Serena’s slim frame and busty chest oft drew the attention of most. You weren’t frumpy by any means, just thicker of waist and plumper thighs and ass, an overlarge bust you tried to bind down. Criston’s fuzzy brain seemed to catch up with him, praising, “You are beautiful, no amount of extra flesh is deterring me.”

You began to unbutton his breeches and he paused, indicating you to turn around. Thankfully the heat from the fire kept the room warm. You moved your hair aside as Criston’s hands undid your jewelry, carefully placing them on the nearest surface.

There was a stagnant pause. Criston’s hands hovering on the top button of your dress. You had already moved your hair, what was the hold up? Then it hit you, the green boy had no clue on how to undress a lady. Which granted, was a complicated ordeal.

“Unbutton that gold one,” you instructed.

He did so, pushing the dress down to reveal the next layer. The stiff corset, verdingal and bum roll. You untied the latter two yourself and teased, “Never seen a lady’s undergarments Cole?” He whispered, fingers faltering on the laces of the corset, “No, not of a highborn.”

The fire crackled as he released the garment, you breathing a sigh of relief, breasts and waist free of the restrictive garment. Only your thin shift remained, Criston making a weak noise as he jerked up the linen, groaning again at your soft frame.

It was your turn to be abashed, it had been a bit since anything but a primal rut in the dark at a tourney or feast from a visiting lord. He breathed, “Gods, oh, my lady.” You turned gently, unlacing his own breeches, tented by his cock. The knight’s thighs trembled, nervous hands roving your plush hips and ass.

You looked up at his doleful eyes, wide and needy. He’d bitten his lip bloody while you had been turned around. You asked, “Have you bedded a lady before?” He choked on an answer, gasping as you pumped his gorgeous prick.

He strained out, “No, fuck, fuck, my lady, I’ll be good for you, please.”

You thumbed around the tip, his mouth now fallen open.

“You’ll be good for me? Fuck your lord’s daughter, it’s almost your duty to be good. It’s okay, you’re a stud, I’ll let you eat my cunt if you blow early.” Criston made the sluttiest little whimper of your name, begging again, “Oh please, please.”

“Please what?”

He mournfully whimpered, “Pleeeease.”

You’d rendered the darling of Blackhaven to mush, begging for a treat like a sweet little hound, not even aware of what he was begging for. You let go of his leaky cock, leading him to the bed, pushing the tanned man down with a smirk. Your own cunt was aching, the power trip intoxicating.

Criston’s sweet face looked so innocent, panting heavily, hair already a sweaty mess. You straddled strong thighs, hands sliding up his lean torso. You asked sweetly, hands retreating to hold your breasts, “Do you want to touch them sweet knight? They’re so sore.”

He nodded, eyes growing teary with need. Criston warbled, “Yes, yes, may I?”

You nodded in assent, throwing your head back with a smile and throaty moan. Criston’s calloused hands felt good on the tender flesh, squeezing and experimentally thumbing your peaked nipples. The man groaned in pleasure, gasping out, “You’re so soft, feels good.”

You leaned over his frame, flesh to flesh gently coming together. Your paler skin against his tanned. His thighs trembled, mouth hanging open again as your body laid atop his stiff prick. You caressed a lightly stubbled cheek, smiling, “You’re just the sweetest thing, Ser Criston.”

He blushed, face screwing up when you laid kisses along his jaw and pulsing neck, nipping here and there. At the same time you rutted your swollen slick folds against him, sighing in pleasure. His big hands groped at your ass, voice strained, “Fuh-fuck me, fuck me please, oh gods m’lady, I’ll do anything, it- it hurts I swear it.”

Kissing his trembling lips, you cooed, “I’ve got you, relax, deep breaths sweetheart.” He nodded, frantic hands stilling, Criston’s staccato breath winding down a bit. Reaching under your body, you nestled the blunt tip of his cock against your sopping entrance. Cole cried out softly, hands clenching back down into your plush hips.’

He was doing his best to keep his breathing in line, exhaling sharply from his nose. You slowly sat onto the thick member, eyes fluttering from the feeling of fullness, the familiar stretch of your walls. You pressed your forehead to his cheek, hands planted on his muscled chest.

Criston seemed to be holding on for dear life, fingertips digging into you, leaving sweet bruises to cherish later. His cock twitched and throbbed, the knight babbling, “I, I, I, can’t m’lady oh seven hells!” You stroked his curls and shushed his frantic whining.

“I know, feels so good, just hold on, it’ll pass sweet boy.”

His teary eyes gazed at you intensely, nodding, you coddling him through the intense new sensations. Stroking back a sweaty piece of hair you asked, “Better sweet boy? Such a pretty pup with a pretty cock. Want me to ride you now?”

Criston managed a weak moan of ‘yes’, hips already twitching upwards. You began to raise your hips, riding his thick cock in slow movements. His back arched a bit, planting his feet down to thrust into your wet pussy. You praised, “Yesss, yes, that’s it!”

Soon the slow rolls sped up with each collision of your ass to his lean hips. What had once looked like gentle lovemaking had turned into fucking— loud, lurid, sloppy. Your mouth mashed against his, the pair of you whining and carrying on accompanied by the sound of your cunt being pounded.

Criston warbled, “So good so good, my lady, gods!” You nibbled on his lips, angling your hips to graze your sensitive bud against his body. The knight’s noises were getting more frequent. He thrust harder, hitting that good spot, you involuntarily tightening around him with a cry. You watched as the man stiffened with a whimper, eyes going wide, cock swelling up.

You immediately pulled up and off his cock, Criston too lost in the throes of his sudden orgasm to register the loss of your warm cunt. In a frenzy you ground yourself against his body, cumming as his seed spurted against your back and ass. He moaned dazedly, eyes watching you get off, rasping, “On me, my lady, on me, beautiful. Shall I get down on my knees and lap at you?”

His utter adoration and sweet voice, big hands at your sides accompanied the heightening sensitivity to your bundle, you grunting and moaning deeply, grabbing a handful of dark curls. The image of the pretty knight with a collar between your legs sent you over the edge with a raspy keen. Slick covered his lower belly coarse curls, Criston seeking out your lips desperately.

He shuddered underneath you, cute little ‘thank you’ leaving his lips. You rolled off of him, uncaring of the seed dirtying the bed. Criston immediately pulled you into his frame, tucking a stubbled chin into your neck. You rubbed his arm around your belly and hummed, “Not bad for your first time. I can teach you many a thing before off your pretty ass goes to tourneys and I get sent to Harvest Hall.”

“I would quite enjoy that,” came his soft voice.

Ser Criston Cole always sought out the banners of House Selmy during Royal tourneys later on. She was beautiful as ever, holding a babe and nodding at him with a dazzling smile. He’d always be fond of his times in Blackhaven, especially with her.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #criston x reader #pre canon

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comradekatara · 1 year

Note

ozai keels over and dies due to tea going down the wrong pipe one morning before canon starts. what changes, and why does it end up with momo as fire lord?

This Ask Was Meant To Be A Joke But Oops I Wrote A Bajillion Words

otherwise known as my take on an "Ursa kills Ozai" AU

ursa poisons ozai at some point before the siege of ba sing se. she’s gotten fed up with him, and says “fuck it.” the only person who suspects foul play is azula, but she’s like 5 so no one takes her accusations seriously, just assuming she’s mourning her father and is fabricating explanations as a coping mechanism. eventually azula begins to believe this herself, but she never stops subconsciously resenting her mother. zuko feels guilty for feeling relieved, but ursa is there by his side to help him work through his feelings in a healthy(ish) way.

the siege of ba sing se fails when iroh’s son dies. he retreats into his grief, journeying through the spirit world and coming to terms with the great suffering he has inflicted on others. he returns to his father a changed man, tells azulon that he can no longer be crown prince, and instead retreats to a smaller village in the fire nation to set up a tea shop and live in isolated comfort and relative peace. he never finds redemption, but he is content in the knowledge that he is no longer actively causing harm either.

since ozai, iroh, and lu ten are all out of the picture, zuko becomes crown prince. azulon only has a few more good years left in him, so zuko’s education in matters of state is turboboosted. azula worries that her soft, sensitive brother who prefers theater to warfare (but is also far too stubborn to be puppeteered by someone competent, like her) isn’t equipped for the position, and voices this (deeply sincere!) concern to ursa, who assumes the worst and scolds azula for speaking ill of her brother.

azula tells zuko that she’s overheard people having doubts over his ability as the next firelord, and at first he’s defensive, accusing her of lying to him and trying to provoke him like she always does. but eventually he relents and admits that he has doubts too. he wants to be a good firelord for his people, but every time he tries to argue with the generals in war meetings over their plans to sacrifice their own troops for grander victories, azulon pulls him aside and gives him an earful about how he is disrespecting the court and isn’t worthy of the throne. azula rolls her eyes and says “you’re not supposed to argue with the generals, dum dum. you’re lucky father is no longer with us, or he would’ve done much worse over hearing you spout your little treasonous inclinations like that.” zuko’s cheeks turn red and he storms off with his hands balled into fists.

eventually azulon comes out with it, summoning azula for a private meeting to discuss her future. he tells her that she is the superior firebender, the superior tactician, and his perfect heir. zuko’s defects concern him, and he wants to make her firelord instead. only he’s afraid that what with zuko’s temper, naming her his successor might infuriate him to the point of rebellion, and they can’t risk that. so they devise a plan to send zuko to search for the avatar, claiming that since both azulon and sozin did so in the past, it is a rite of honor for a firelord, and only a true firelord is up to the mission.

zuko, who is desperate to prove himself, vows that he will not return to the fire nation until he has done what his forefathers could not, proving once and for all his true worth, that it is his destiny to rule. he is given a grand ship, the finest fleet the nation has to offer. since he is only still a boy, ursa decides to accompany him, leaving azula in the care of her grandfather and the many servants of the palace. azula pretends to be fine with this, since, after all, it was her idea in the first place. zuko’s full head of hair and unblemished skin signify that he has more to gain than to lose. but still, he cannot afford to fail.

that said, he is in great spirits, fully believing in himself, with his beloved mother there by his side to provide tireless support for which he is greatly appreciative. he is constantly gracious towards his crew, full of great scholars who tutor him in matters of state, history, and culture during his search, as well as revered generals honored to serve the future firelord. he is eager to have a goal. he gets to see the world. he’s happy.

and wouldn’t you know it—two years into his search, he actually does it. he finds the avatar, the one who neither sozin nor azulon could find despite their lifelong efforts. he's hiding out in a tiny water tribe village in the south pole, disguised as a child. clever. since zuko is decidedly not operating on WWOD (what would ozai do?) he and ursa decide that it would be best if they arrived as a peaceful delegation to this village of mostly elderly women and children, and used their resources to negotiate a trade.

sokka sees the fire nation ship coming from a mile away; after all, it's huge. he dons his warpaint. he's been waiting for this day. waiting to die defending his people. but the ship does not park itself on their shores; instead, a trio consisting of a boy his age, a middle aged woman, and an old man (one of zuko's tutors, an anthropologist who wants to see this water tribe village up close) approach their village wall and wait for an audience with whoever's in charge. they look harmless, unarmed, peaceful even. katara is curious, even eager to meet them. so many strange new visitors in one day! but sokka reminds her that they're still fire nation, and they must be seen as a threat.

despite their politeness, their request to trade the avatar for their resources is indeed quite suspect. for one thing, the avatar hasn't been seen in over a century, so why the hell would they think that they have him, and for another, if they did have the avatar, they obviously wouldn't hand him over to the fucking fire nation. sokka tells them that they're mistaken, they will find no avatar here, and to be on their way before things get ugly (this is an obvious bluff, since he's already outnumbered, but they don't have to know that).

meanwhile, aang sees commotion in katara and sokka's village. while he understands their reasoning for banishing him after he accidentally set off that flare and put them in danger, he didn't realize that it would happen so immediately. it's his fault, so it's his responsibility to fix it. after all, he's tired of running. it's what got him into this mess in the first place. he penguin sleds his way right into the heart of the village, in between zuko and sokka, and announces that he is the avatar, and if he goes with them, they must promise to leave the village alone. zuko's just like "of course, yeah. i mean i was willing to trade stuff, so this is a great outcome for me." he escorts aang back onto his ship, while katara watches with tears in her eyes, and sokka devises a plan.

aang still hasn't really processed the whole "fire nation is bad" thing yet. he believes katara that the ship they explored attacked their people, of course, but so far, everyone he's met from the fire nation has been super nice to him. this is the future firelord and his kind-eyed mother promising to bring him to the fire palace safely and smoothly, and offering him any accommodations he may need on their journey, nothing like the monstrous soldiers of katara's story. just to make sure, aang asks zuko what they plan on doing with him once they reach the fire nation. zuko pauses, tilting his head. "i.... don't actually know," he admits. "once we reach home, i'll hand you over to my grandfather azulon, and he'll see fit what to do with the avatar, since he's the current firelord." aang concludes that this sounds reasonable.

aang is sitting on deck, drinking a refreshing (yet slightly spicy) beverage when he is approached by one of zuko's tutors. "it is an honor to meet the avatar," he says in a reverent tone. ("thanks!" aang grins brightly. he doesn't really want to be the avatar, but he won't say no to being complimented.) "please heed my warning," says the scholar. "being in the firelord's custody will bring you and the world nothing but pain. i don't believe prince zuko knows what he is doing by bringing you to our shores, but you must escape while you still can." aang looks confused, so he hands him his glider, and a pai sho tile. "consider me a friend."

a large shadow falls over them. aang takes his glider and makes a run for it, landing on appa's back and flying away as zuko rushes on deck to see his guest of honor escaping. "how could this happen?" zuko asks. "weren't you watching him? how did he get his glider? why did he break his promise?" his tutor shrugs, explaining that airbenders are masters of evasion. and this one has managed to evade the world for the past century. "you're right," agrees zuko. "next time i find him, i will be far more vigilant."

zuko knows that other gloryseekers in the fire nation will attempt to capture that which is rightfully his, so he tries not to advertise it, but soon enough word gets out of the avatar's return, making the slippery little airbender that much more elusive. he refuses to go home without the avatar in hand. (if the spies aboard zuko's ship, either for azulon or for the white lotus, have a hand in dispersing this information, zuko does not question it.)

after an... educational visit to the southern air temple, aang decides to visit kyoshi island to ride the elephant koi. they end up staying longer than they intended to, what with aang's excitement over having an entourage, and sokka's excitement at actually meeting a girl his age for the first time in his life. it doesn't take long for the news to spread to zuko, who makes a beeline to the island. he manages to avoid the unagi as he makes it onto their shores, accompanied by some actual soldiers this time. "hand over the avatar, and no one will get hurt," he declares.

unfortunately, the villagers do not comply, instead sending their warriors to fight him. they're pretty evenly matched until aang shows up, using a pair of fans to knock zuko to the ground and run off on appa while the prince is distracted. since zuko has no further qualms with this village, he retreats to his ship, leaving suki and her village to pick up the pieces from their battle. thankfully the damage was minimal, and no one was seriously hurt, but it does inspire her to make a choice.

zuko is too late by the time he makes it to the prison rig, but he does find something useful: a necklace that could only belong to the water tribe girl helping the avatar. "that's a pretty bracelet you've got there," ursa remarks. zuko flushes. "i'm just tying it around my wrist for safekeeping," he scoffs. he can use it as leverage, he knows. he just hasn't figured out how yet.

zuko tells zhao that he isn’t allowed to try to capture the avatar, since this was his mission, as tasked by the firelord. zhao smugly replies that zuko had his chance, and now it’s anyone’s game. the man who brings the avatar back to the fire nation is sure to be handsomely rewarded, and so zhao will stop at nothing to make sure that man is him. so when he successfully kidnaps aang, zuko has no choice but to don his mother’s theater mask, strap his swords to his back, and break aang out of pohuai stronghold.

zuko wakes up to the avatar talking about life 100 years ago. since by now he’s pretty sure the avatar is literally a child, he wonders whether the kid is referring to his past life, or if he’s actually just demented. aang asks zuko if they could’ve been friends if not for the war. zuko firmly says, “no. i’m not friends with liars who break their promises.” (he’s also not friends with anyone besides his mother, but that’s neither here nor there.) he’s obviously referring to the fact that aang broke his word by escaping his ship, but that’s not where aang’s mind goes. he looks down, feeling guilty, ashamed. “okay,” he says quietly. “guess I’ll get going, then.” by the time zuko has actually considered capturing him for himself, aang has disappeared into the trees.

stowing away inside a giant fire nation ship with countless people was a smart move, but june's shirshu is smarter. zuko is outraged that she would dare to damage a ship belonging to the firelord himself to catch a simple petty thief, but he claims that if she can help him find someone, he'll consider them even. june decides that gaining the trust of the future firelord is surely a good investment, so she helps him track down his little girlfriend.

by the time zuko has located the water tribe teens, the avatar is no longer with them. he offers to trade the necklace for the boy, but katara firmly refuses, calling him a monster. zuko realizes that maybe one necklace isn’t actually worth a person, so he offers them money as well. (“well hang on a second, how much are we talking?” sokka says—as a joke, god—and katara smacks him.) june doesn’t have time to deal with futile negotiations, so she speeds up the process by paralyzing them and tracking down her bounty.

the nuns’ perfumes disorient nyla, so june peaces out asap. katara gets her necklace back, and wonders how zuko even stole it in the first place. zuko laments yet another loss. his tutors remind him that it is simply not the way of the world for ordinary people to win in fights against the avatar. but zuko isn’t an ordinary person. he’s the future firelord. so why isn’t he better than this?

zhao steps aboard zuko’s ship without his permission (he doesn’t need it; he has azulon’s). he informs zuko that he will be taking every eligible soldier for his mission, as per azulon’s command. zuko learns that he is leading an attack against the northern water tribe. but why? zuko wonders. has the northern water tribe actually attacked the fire nation? they’re famously isolationist, so it wouldn’t make sense to attack them without provocation. even the knowledge that the avatar will be there to master waterbending does little to mitigate zuko’s confusion. why bother harming countless civilians just to extract one person?

ursa warns zuko against voicing these treasonous thoughts to anyone else. treasonous? is it treasonous to question why the fire nation would attack a self-sufficient, isolated society that causes no harm to anyone else? of course the fire nation had to defend themselves against the air nomad army, and then the earth kingdom and southern water tribe, but he thought the northern water tribe had never been a part of the war. is it really just because the avatar will be there? he knows that zhao is a power-hungry monster, and admittedly, he does find his grandfather quite terrifying, but this seems needlessly cruel even for them...right? ursa sighs. maybe azula had a point. he really is hopelessly naive.

zuko decides that the only way to prevent this damage is by capturing the avatar himself. so he takes a jetski to the northern water tribe, alone, and waits for them to let him into the city. he is brought before the chief, who demands an explanation. zuko explains that the fire nation is planning an attack against them, which he personally does not endorse, but if they handed over the avatar, then the fire nation would no longer see their people as a threat, and have no reason to harm them.

everyone immediately objects, assuming that this is simply a trick to secure the avatar before they just attack them anyway. but aang vouches for zuko. “he wouldn’t lie,” he promises. he decides that he has no choice but to follow zuko’s lead if it means saving the entire northern water tribe. katara protests, but yue just looks on sympathetically. “it’s his duty,” she tells her, her voice heavy.

zuko brings the avatar before zhao, telling him that if he hands aang over, then zhao can call off the siege before any bloodshed is necessary. zhao says, “we have a deal,” and locks aang in a heavily fortified cell. then he knocks zuko out while he isn’t looking, and locks him in a cell of his own. “foolish boy. you really think i’d call off my invasion just for the avatar? i’m about to create a legacy. too bad you won’t be around to see it.”

katara runs to sokka, who’s off preparing for a secret mission, and explains to him what’s happened. sokka slaps his forehead. “if prince ponytail thinks that zhao would call off his invasion just for aang then he’s even dumber than i thought.” katara’s all like “that’s what i said!” but of course aang and yue and zuko were all too honorable to listen. “so what’s your plan?” katara asks. “it’s simple,” says sokka. “first, we go to zhao’s ship.” (“yes, absolutely, agrees katara.) “free aang.” (“uh huh, duh.”) “and then we kill zhao.” (“uhm...............”)

sokka assures katara that he’ll do all the killing and murdering and katara and aang don’t have to get their hands dirty. katara frowns but doesn’t protest. they take appa (underwater, thanks to katara’s recent waterbending upgrade) to zhao’s ship, easy to identify as it’s the nearest, biggest one.

they sneak on without issue. any guards who do notice them are immediately knocked out by katara before they can even protest. aang and zuko are being held in cells on opposite sides of the same room. they’re both chained so as to restrict their bending, but between katara’s bending and sokka’s arsenal of weapons, they’re able to break aang free. and then aang says something ridiculous. “i think we should free zuko too.”

sokka’s just like “absolutely not. we’re here to rescue you and ........incapacitate zhao, zuko is our enemy.” but then aang does his puppy dog eyes and before sokka can even protest further he’s broken zuko out anyway and katara, the traitor, is helping him. sokka sighs, knowing that this is going to complicate his plan significantly.

aang’s all like, “well why would zhao even lock zuko up in the first place if zuko didn’t have good inside him?? huh????” and sokka’s like “I don’t know maybe because zhao is an evil power-hungry monster and he doesn’t want zuko to get in his way????” and none of them can argue with that, because that’s exactly what happened.

they make a deal with zuko that they will return him to his ship if he promises to stop hunting them, and zuko is like, “what if i stop hunting you for like.... a week?” and sokka is like, “what if i murder you right now?” and zuko’s like, “okay FINE. two weeks.”

sokka decides he can murder zuko later and goes off to find zhao, telling aang and zuko to go find appa while katara follows him for backup. sokka has no idea why he trusted aang and zuko to listen to him, because of course they follow them secretly.

and sokka is SO CLOSE to slitting zhao’s throat with the edge of his blade while he was sleeping, it would’ve been SO EASY, when zuko lets out an extremely loud, involuntary gasp from the corner of the room where he and aang are hiding. technically it’s not actually zuko’s fault that zhao wakes up, because at the same time, aang cried out “NO!” which is definitely what actually awoke zhao, but sokka has decided to blame it on zuko anyway.

zhao’s eyes snap open and he firebends around the room, only managing not to scorch them all to a crisp because aang, katara, and zuko all immediately respond by using their bending to put out the fire. a fight breaks out, aang and katara trying to incapacitate zhao, sokka still hoping to kill him, zhao trying to kill all of them, and zuko frantically trying to deescalate the situation. he keeps blocking zhao by just. putting out his firebending. and he keeps blocking sokka by just pushing him out of the way every time he’s about to land a blow. which is quite possibly the most irritating thing that has ever happened to sokka in a fight.

zuko is so annoyed by this situation that eventually he’s just like, “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE STOP FIGHTING!” and he yells it so loudly and commandingly that they actually do what he says and freeze in place. “no one is killing anyone,” he says. “the avatar will be captured alive. and zhao committed high treason by imprisoning me, the crown prince, which means that he is to be sent to my grandfather so the fire nation can determine what to do with him.”

his air of diplomacy wears off after like five seconds though, and sokka just says, “that’s stupid. you’re not letting me kill him because you think the fire nation should be the ones to execute him? that literally doesn’t make sense unless you’re some persnickety imperialist bootlicker. i should kill you right now just for being so moronic.”

painfully, katara is forced to agree with sokka. she nods her head solemnly, “sokka’s right,” she tells zuko, “and you are a moron.” zhao is begrudgingly impressed. he’s like, “wow if i didn’t want to eradicate your entire race, i’d recruit you as my lieutenant.” sokka’s like, “that’s the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me but ok.”

this standstill is the perfect opportunity for aang to knock out zhao and katara to knock out zuko, which sokka tries to indicate subtly with his eyes and hand signals, but aang and katara are just like, “what? what are you saying?” and they’re mouthing to each other looking all stupid which is the perfect opportunity for zhao to just. slip out of the room and lock the door behind him, leaving them all trapped. he gathers the most important members of his crew and lets them know to move to another ship as quickly as possible, since there’s no way that door will hold the avatar for long. he lets the rest of his crew know that they’re about to be in for the fight of their lives.

aang tries to use airbending to kick down the door, which only dents the metal slightly. then katara tries to freeze the hinges, but the door only opens from the top, leaving an opening so small even momo couldn’t climb through (and momo is back in agna qel’a safely with yue anyway). then zuko uses his firebending powered kicks to try to pry the door off its hinges, leaving it rattled and slightly more dented. just as aang is about to try again, sokka’s like, “is it my turn yet?” takes out the knife in his boot, and picks the lock. katara smacks him over the head for not just having done that in the first place.

the entirety of zhao’s remaining crew is right outside the door, waiting to kill all of them at their admiral’s orders. it’s a brutal fight. they don’t hold back, no matter how many times zuko insists that he ranks higher than zhao and therefore they should be listening to him! katara knocks out most of them with a water whip, and aang takes out the rest with an airbending move that gives them all the concussion of their lives. they run back to appa as fast as they can, mowing down soldiers along the way. they don’t really have another option, so they let zuko climb onto appa too.

they fly back to the capital, where arnook is waiting for them. they explain the situation as quickly as possible, and that the secret mission to take out zhao was a bust. (sokka will later realize that he could’ve killed zhao before freeing aang, and regret everything.) yue suggests getting help from the spirits, so she takes aang and katara to the oasis so that aang can enter the spirit world and seek the guidance he needs.

meanwhile, sokka and arnook are debating what to do with zuko. on one hand, he did try to protect their tribe, which means he should get diplomatic immunity since he’s technically their ally against this invasion. on the other hand, he’s the crown prince of the fire nation, and if they hold him for ransom then the firelord will probably call off the siege. but also the message won’t be received in time for that, since zhao could be approaching any second, so maybe it would be more helpful to use zuko to fight against this army, which he could probably be convinced to do. meanwhile zuko is sitting in a little prison cell like, “i wonder how mom’s doing...”

pakku gets a message from the white lotus that the crown prince has been missing for a day, along with a jetski, and if he happens to know where he might have gone? with some light snooping, pakku finds out that zuko is being held prisoner, but they're probably going to free him since he doesn't really seem to be a threat. so he assures the white lotus that he's safe in their city, and not to worry. ursa worries.

sokka goes to visit zuko, giving him the option to fight in exchange for his freedom, when he sees a shadow slink into the wall. he pretends not to notice anything. "we've decided to release you provided you help us prepare and fight against zhao's invasion, which seems like something you'd be willing to do considering he just tried to kill you. the blue spirit can help too i guess," he says, gesturing to ursa in the corner of the room, who scoffs behind her mask.

zuko agrees that zhao committing high treason, going back on his word, trying to kill the avatar, and invading an isolationist society are all pretty good grounds for fighting that guy. he's very confused by what sokka means about the blue spirit, though, because he was pretty sure that he's the blue spirit...? ursa takes off her mask and waves. zuko lights up. "MOM!!!!!!!!!" he cries, and rushes to hug her as sokka unlocks the door to his cell. and ohmygod sokka hates this guy so fucking much.

ursa's like, "are you sure you don't want to apturecay the vataray?" sokka rolls his eyes at her assumption that he somehow can't hear and/or understand her. or maybe she just doesn't care. zuko's like, "ugh, i promised them a two weeks truce." ursa doesn't know whether to be proud of or annoyed by her son who refuses to go back on his word, ever.

sokka takes zuko (and ursa) to arnook, who can command them as he best sees fit, and then heads over to the spirit oasis so he can be there for katara, aang, and yue. aang is busy meditating, so katara and yue are just standing there keeping watch and hoping for the best. zhao enters through the door while aang is still in the spirit world. katara defends aang with everything she has, and sokka is torn between providing backup and making sure no one lays a hand on yue. they're sorely outnumbered. especially because while katara and sokka are busy protecting aang (and yue), they leave room open for zhao to pluck a certain koi fish out of a pond.

aang returns to his body a second too late. "why is the moon red?" he asks. then he sees zhao. "oh no." he begs with zhao, pleads him not to do this. destroying the moon wouldn't just hurt the water tribes, but the whole world. just put the fish down, and then they can negotiate. zhao slowly sets tui down. and then he roasts it. the sky goes dark. aang blows a gust of wind at zhao and his soldiers so powerful that it knocks half of them out. zhao knows that there's no winning a fight against the avatar, and runs out of the oasis. he got what he came for anyway.

yue starts crying. "there's no hope now," she says. "it's over." katara can't bend. the sky is black. she feels as sick as she did when she was born. "no," says aang, his voice echoing with his countless lifetimes. "it's not over." he steps into the pond, and emerges bonded with the ocean spirit. so that one solves one problem. the entire fire navy fleet is decimated in a matter of minutes, and the ocean drops aang off on the wall of the city once they're certain their mission is complete.

meanwhile zuko is fighting zhao on another bridge, more furious than zhao has ever seen him. "how could you could this?" he shouts, pummeling zhao with fireballs. even as zhao nearly trips trying to block zuko's attack, he sneers. "i didn't do anything your father wouldn't have done, had he taken his rightful place on the throne." zuko can't believe this. his father died when he was just a child. yes, he was somewhat cold and distant, but zuko has fond memories of him too, like when he would teach him history while sitting on the beach at ember island, or when he would play soldier with him in the garden (or... wait.... was that uncle iroh?). "if only your bitch of a mother didn't kill him."

zuko suddenly remembers something azula said to him, only once. his ears ring. he repeats what he had said (shouted) then. "you're lying!" his fireballs grow even stronger. suddenly, a giant glowing hand emerges from the canal. zuko ducks and rolls out of the way, but the hand wasn't after him anyway. without thinking, zuko reaches out to zhao. "grab my hand!" he tells him, and zhao nearly does it before thinking better of it and pulling away. the last thing zhao sees is the moon shining bright in the sky once more.

zuko wipes his eyes before teartracks can freeze his cheeks, and then goes to find his mom. sokka and katara go to find aang. they all find one another on the bridge, ursa already tending to aang who is slumped on the ground. "what happened to the moon?" zuko asks. sokka doesn't answer, his mouth set in a thin line. "what happened to zhao?" asks katara. zuko doesn't answer, merely looks down. "did you kill him?" asks sokka. since zuko doesn't respond, they take this to mean that he did. "oh man," whines sokka. "i wanted to do that!" he had already been prepared to kill zhao, and then yue... ugh. it's not fair! why does this idiot get everything good??

in the morning, arnook sends zuko back to his ship as a thanks for killing zhao (zuko doesn't bother to correct him). the gaang stays behind for a bit to help clean up the mess, but sokka insists that they have to leave soon to find aang an earthbending teacher (and if he doesn't wanna stay here another second longer for other reasons, he doesn't mention it). they go find a general who wants to help aang access the avatar state, while zuko and what's left of his crew travel to a spa to relax for a while, seeing as he can't attempt to capture the avatar at the moment anyway.

who shows up but azula, who zuko hasn't seen in years. "wow, zuzu, you look terrible," is one of the first things out of her mouth, but he can't even be offended because he knows it's true. he's barely slept since the siege of the north, and the only food he's kept down is plain white rice. ursa was hoping the resort would help improve his health, but he can't hide his declining state from his sister. he's haunted by images of zhao going under, pulling away from his hand in disgust, of his mother doing the same to ozai. he doesn't know who to trust anymore. he thinks he might hate himself. "don't call me that," zuko snaps. he hasn't seen his sister in years. she looks different. colder, sharper.

"hello, azula, it's really good to see you," ursa says calmly. she goes in for a hug, but azula blocks her. "you didn't even write," she says, refusing to look her mother in the eye. ursa frowns. "of course i did," she says. "did you not receive my letters?" she hadn't. azulon had intercepted them. he thought it best if he kept azula all to himself. azula thinks she's being mocked, but she holds back her tears, as she's been learning to do since she was born. "grandfather wants you back in the fire nation," she tells zuko. "his health is declining. you ought to prepare for your coronation."

zuko doesn't really want to return, but he doesn't know how he feels traveling the world with his mom anymore, and it's his duty to take the throne, so it's not like he has a choice. then one of azula's crew lets it slip that zuko is not their honored guest, but their prisoner, and all hell breaks loose. "of course grandfather doesn't want you on the throne!" azula taunts him. "your repeated failure to capture the avatar has been an embarrassment! not to mention, you aided the water tribe during the siege, and literally killed an admiral."

"i didn't kill him, i tried to save him!" zuko protests. "and the avatar is extremely powerful, even you couldn't catch him." (azula takes this as a challenge.) zuko and ursa barely escape with their lives, being given enough of a head start only because ursa pushed azula into the water below. she doesn't even make sure to check if her daughter is okay, she just grabs zuko's hand and runs.

they run and run until they reach a clearing in the woods. zuko throws up in the river. "i didn't kill zhao," he whispers, over and over again. "i didn't kill zhao... i didn't....." ursa hugs him as breaks down. "i know honey, i know." but zuko is shaking in her arms for another reason. "did you kill my father?" he asks. ursa tenses, and zuko backs away from her. "no," she says. "no, of course not. why would you think that?"

"you did.... didn't you....." zuko can barely control his rage. ursa starts crying, pleading with him. "you don't understand, zuko, he would've killed you. killed me. please, you must understand. i had no other choice. it was self-defense." zuko shakes his head. "i get why you did it," he says, because he may be naive, but he's not stupid. "but why did you lie to me? everyone acted like azula was crazy, but she was right all along."

ursa smiles sadly. "i lied to protect you," she says. "i couldn't let anyone else know what i did." zuko sees his mother for the first time. he unsheathes his knife, the pearl dagger uncle iroh gave him just before he disappeared. "cut. your. hair." honor never meant much to ursa, she knew it to be a hollow facade that hid ill-tempered husbands behind delusions of grandeur. but she knows how much it means to zuko. so she takes his knife and cuts her hair to her chin, too short to tie into a topknot.

zuko takes the knife back, and in the spur of the moment, cuts off his ponytail too. he doesn't even fully know why he does it. it's not like he murdered anyone. but he also knows that if it came down to it, he'd do anything for his mother, and maybe that counts all the same. "we have to keep moving," ursa tells him. "azula could be on our trail right now." zuko is about to protest that it's all a misunderstanding, that if he just talked to his grandfather he could clear his name, but another, newer part of him doesn't even believe that anymore. so he takes ursa's hand, and they head to the nearest earth kingdom town in search for provisions and a map that can lead them to ba sing se.

after weeks of traveling from town to town, depending on the kindness of strangers to keep them fed (or well, ursa fed. zuko still doesn't eat much), zuko can't take it anymore. "i'm the crown prince," he complains, "i shouldn't be living like this! i need to go talk to azula and make things right." ursa shakes her head. "what you need is to be patient," she says. "once we reach ba sing se, we'll find a roof over our heads, good jobs, and a steady life. a little hard work won't kill you in the meantime." zuko is about to complain that it most certainly will, but his mom has been doing so much for him lately (and his whole life), so he just sighs and acquiesces.

one night, while they're sleeping in someone's barn, zuko asks his mom how she knows how to do all kinds of manual labor. that's not the kind of thing you learn growing up in a palace. ursa explains that she wasn't actually raised as a noble, although she has noble blood. she grew up in a small village in the southern fire nation, where she likely would have spent her whole life if she hadn't been chosen to be ozai's bride due to her relation to avatar roku. zuko's just like, "uh....... hold up????? you literally never told me any of this?????????"

ursa says she figured it wasn't important. even zuko knows that's a lie. it seems extremely important. "elaborate. now," he demands. so ursa tells him stories of growing up on a small, quiet island, studying theater with her friends, firebending with her mom, and fishing with her dad. she tells him about how she was taken away, given no choice. she tells him stories of what ozai said to her, what he did to her. she doesn't go into detail or anything, but she figures zuko is old enough to know. she tells him more stories the next night, lighter ones this time. the story of where she got her favorite mask. the story of making sweet buns with her brother. stories about zuko and azula when they were babies. the night after that, she tells him the story of roku and sozin.

"i don't understand," says zuko. "sozin let roku die?? why would he do that?? roku was his friend!" ursa can't help it; she laughs. "roku was the only thing stopping sozin from spreading the glory of the fire nation across the world. he cared about roku, but he also cared about his nation." zuko scoffs. "it sounds to me like he cared about no one but himself." ursa would scold him for voicing such a thought if she hadn't been wondering the same thing.

the next morning, zuko slips away silently with his swords strapped to his back. he's tired of running. so when azula tracks aang to a ghost town, zuko appears moments later. "zuko?" exclaims aang. he's so tired, he wonders if he's hallucinating. they haven't seen zuko since the north pole, and despite his new haircut being quite flattering, he looks even worse than aang currently feels. he doesn't have much time to reflect, since azula uses this pause to attack aang, and zuko is trying to intervene for reasons unclear to both of them. katara and sokka show up to defend aang.

meanwhile toph has bumped into a woman about her mother's age on the side of the road. they have a long talk, and they both feel a lot better by the end of it, even if it makes toph miss her mom and ursa miss azula. toph returns to the gaang just in time to save their butts. zuko keeps yelling for azula to stop so they can talk, but azula's just like "can't you see i'm busy right now?"

what does catch her attention, though, is the arrival of ursa. the woman who brought her into the world, and, most recently, pushed her into the sea without a second thought. her hair is shorter. “azula," says ursa sternly, in that what am i going to do with this truculent child voice she has never once used on zuko. "we need to talk."

"yes, yes, mother," says azula. "once i've captured the avatar, then we can hash everything out." ursa grabs azula by the back of her collar as if she's a kitten. "now, young lady!" and she marches azula to the other side of the town, motioning for zuko to stay put. toph is suddenly far less regretful of the fact that this woman is not her mother.

"so...." says zuko, upon noticing that three familiar pairs of eyes are staring at him. he waves awkwardly. aang waves back, but feels so stupid that he puts his hand down after a single second of consideration. "okay," says sokka. "we're all thinking it, so i'm just gonna say it. you look awful." aang and katara both nod. he really does. "oh my god," says toph, "let's LEAVE."

out of the corner of her eye, azula catches the avatar and his companions just walking away, without so much as a fight from zuko, and she squirms in ursa's grasp. "but–" she protests, pointing at the receding blur of orange and yellow. "don't talk back to me!" ursa snaps as she continues lecturing azula on why she needs to be a better sister to zuko and it's clear she wants to take the throne but as a woman that just isn't her place and–

"that's rich coming from the woman who murdered her husband," azula says. ursa does not dignify azula's comment with a response. "also, i don't want the throne," azula continues. "grandfather wants me to have the throne. i'm just doing what he told me to." the fact that he own mother thinks so little of her, that she hasn't seen her in years, didn't even bother to write, and now all she wants to do is lecture her on not being good enough... azula does not cry. her lip wobbles a little, but she's fine. she's fine.

zuko walks over to them, disobeying his mother’s orders. he just doesn’t get why she would scold azula when she should know that she made azula feel as if she was crazy her whole life. shouldn’t she feel at least a little bit guilty for that? “i didn’t kill zhao,” he tells azula. “a giant spirit hand rose out of the ocean and dragged him down. i tried to help him but he wouldn’t take my hand. believe me or don’t. i don’t care.”

unfortunately, azula does believe him. because she knows her brother, and he cannot tell a lie to save his life. but this is a problem, because grandfather wants zuko out of the way, and without the precedent of treason, they have no good reason not to maintain his position as heir. but she’s always been good at thinking on her feet. “what if,” she proposes, “we work together to capture the avatar, but you take all the credit for it? then surely grandfather would be impressed enough with you that he wouldn’t mind giving you the throne. in return, all i ask is that when you’re firelord, you do everything i say, which is only fair because grandfather thinks i’d make a better ruler, and all my advice would be in your best interest anyway. do we have a deal?”

zuko doesn’t like the sound of being beholden to azula; he’s too proud for that. but he also wants his grandfather’s approval. there's also another issue... “i don’t know how i feel about capturing the avatar, to be honest,” zuko says. “at first i thought he was a scheming coward from a backwards culture, but he actually seems like a pretty good kid. maybe we could reason with him instead?”

azula resists the urge to smack her forehead. this kind of thinking is exactly why he shouldn’t be in charge of a fishing boat, let alone a global superpower. “were you born without balls?” she honestly can’t believe she’s related to him. (“language,” ursa warns.) “you know what, i feel bad even suggesting that we work together. clearly, grandfather was right about you, and if you dare set foot in the fire nation again we will have no choice but to convict you for the murder of that dumbass admiral guy. i mean personally i wish you did kill him, because it would be the only modicum of chutzpah you’d ever display in your pathetic little life, but of course you couldn’t even do that much. and mother, you can’t blame me for lack of trying. but i think you know as well as i do that your son is a lost cause. i’ll be going now. don’t try to contact me again.”

with that, azula walks away, and neither zuko nor ursa try to stop her. she finds mai and ty lee back in the woods by their mounts, damp and shivering and smelling unpleasantly of river water. this situation doesn’t stop ty lee from wrapping azula in a hug the moment she lays eyes upon her expression, poorly masked distress and red eyes threatening to spill over. azula just stands there, letting her clothes get wet.

“so............” says ursa. zuko stares at her. he knows she’s trying so hard not to say i told you so. instead she says, “ba sing se?” zuko reluctantly nods. so he’ll let azula take the throne while he hides in the earth kingdom like a coward. he’s fine with that! glad, even! his family is all kinds of fucked up. who needs them? not him! (he's always been a terrible liar.)

“i have some contacts who can help us get fake passports and tickets aboard the ferry,” ursa says. “i hope you know that this isn’t a dishonorable thing to do. there’s no shame in retreating from a bad situation before it gets worse.” zuko frowns. “like when you killed my father, you mean?” he asks. ursa nods. “something like that,” she agrees.

"i mean, honestly, zuko... do you even want to be firelord?" zuko scoffs. what is she even talking about? of course he wants to be firelord! it's been his birthright since uncle abdicated, he's been training for it since he was a child. it's honorable to perform one's duty by serving the most just and forward-thinking nation in the world. ursa sighs. "see, zuko, this is exactly what i'm talking about. do you even believe what you're saying right now?"

"okay, okay," zuko concedes, "so maybe great-grandfather sozin and grandfather azulon have been a little extreme in their views, but they needed to rule with a firm hand due to the pressures of the war and the power vacuum left by the disappearance of the avatar. now that he's back, i'm sure we can find negotiations with the other nations that satisfy everyone's needs, and–"

"oh my god. ZUKO. who do you think STARTED the war?" ursa all but yells. zuko pauses. he doesn't want to say something wrong. there are a lot of false starts, opening his mouth, and then promptly closing it, like the world's most thoughtful goldfish. when he finally does speak, he's quiet and to the point. "we did," he says.

ursa lets zuko grapple with this revelation all the way to ba sing se. some guy keeps trying to talk to him on the ferry but gives up after five minutes of realizing he's not paying attention, way too absorbed in his own thoughts and recontextualized memories. they walk through the lower ring, navigating the throng of refugees who have been displaced by the war. zuko doesn't know whether he wants to stay in this bubble forever, or if he's more determined than ever to assume the throne, and right the wrongs of his forefathers. all he knows for certain is that his mom managed to set them up with the coolest jobs he could ever hope for.

katara knows that ba sing se is a horrendous hyperstratified police state, but she's always been one to see the good in things, and ever since her fun little day at the spa with toph, she's been enjoying perusing the cultural resources ba sing se's upper ring has to offer. so she takes momo to a park, where he runs around chasing birds; she takes sokka to the library, where he complains that all their intelligence is outdated while she browses the romance section; she makes all of them go shopping with her, because they lost most of their stuff when appa was stolen, and she's sick of wearing the same outfit every single day; and she tries to cheer up aang as much as possible, which includes a matinee showing of some old earth kingdom play she's never actually heard of, but which got rave reviews in the ba sing se gazette.

during intermission (one of two, apparently this play is four and a half hours long???) katara whispers to aang, "is it just me, or does the lead actress look familiar?" aang is confused. "what do you mean by that? she's literally wearing a mask." katara shrugs. "i dunno..." she says, "i just get this creepy feeling like i've seen her before." they almost miss it, because they're jumping out of the seats by the time the play has finally ended, but thankfully katara remembers to look back when the cast members take their masks off, because holy shit she does know that woman.

aang and katara stealthily follow their marks, trailing behind a good distance while also making sure not to lose them in the crowd. it helps that aang has an aerial view. they finally end up in front of a lower ring apartment complex, where two of the most high-ranking members of the fire nation royal family are apparently.... living??? they're not exactly sure how to make their next move. aang offers that they wait for sokka to come up with a plan, since he'd know what to do, but katara is too impatient. she tells aang to wait outside, and that she'll signal to him if it's a trap, at which point he should get toph and sokka (she's fairly confident she can take a skinny dweeb and his mom on her own, but she doesn't want him getting his slimy fire nation hands on aang).

in a perhaps inadvisable move (since their landlord now expects her to pay for the damages), she kicks the door down, holding ice daggers in each hand. "all right, i'm onto you," she threatens the mother currently trying to pile more food onto the plate of her resisting son. "how did you infiltrate the city, and why are you here?"

zuko shrieks, and then realizes it's just the avatar's waterbender friend. "oh hey...........you." (it suddenly occurs to him that he never bothered to learn her name.) "what are you doing here?"

"that's none of your business," says katara, folding her arms. like she'd spill their secret invasion plan to the crown prince, or let it slip that appa is missing. yeah right. "well, it is kind of my business," replies zuko, "seeing as you're in our apartment." ursa hands her a fresh plate. "sit and eat with us. we can answer all your questions over dinner." katara complies with little fuss, since fire nation or not, she can't help but be charmed by any sort of maternal figure. not to mention she was enchanting in that play.

zuko and ursa explain to katara that they're laying low in ba sing se to avoid the wrath of his grandfather, who has declared him a traitor for helping the northern water tribe during the siege, and they actually quite like it here. ursa successfully auditioned her way into one of ba sing se's most elite theater troupes, and zuko was hired as assistant stage manager. they have no ulterior motive, zuko is just content to help his mother live out her lifelong dreams of becoming an actress, since he's currently too confused about everything to even know what stance he should be taking in this war anyway.

katara leaps at this. "what do you mean you're confused?" she asks. as much as sokka claims that zuko is the biggest idiot he's ever met (and that includes chong), katara can't help but harbor the mildest of soft spots for a guy whose best friend is clearly his mom. maybe this is her chance to finally Fix Him. "well," says zuko, "i always thought my role in this war and in the world was to help my grandfather and someday take over his role as firelord, but now it seems like my grandfather hates me, so i'm not really sure what to do about that. also you and the avatar seem really nice? but not your brother though, he's really mean and kinda terrifying. so... yeah. i'll probably just stay here with my mom."

katara's like, "okay, i totally get that, your mom seems dope, but what if, instead, you went full traitor and helped teach aang firebending? wouldn't that be fun? and don't worry about sokka, you can always just distract him with food or something shiny." and zuko's like, "suppose i agree to your offer, how am i even supposed to firebend in this city without getting arrested?" which is admittedly a pretty good point. but katara's like, "we'll be leaving eventually, and when we do, you can come with us and train aang then!"

zuko's torn, because on one hand he doesn't want to leave his mom, but on the other hand, being an official companion to the avatar seems like a more worthwhile use of time than assistant stage managing (even if it is really fun). ursa's also torn, because on one hand, her dearest wish has always been for her children to be able to lead normal, happy lives, but on the other hand, she thinks it might be good for zuko to finally make some friends his age, and on the other hand, she's not sure if those friends should be the anti-fire nation revolutionaries who are trying to kill his family? like, yes, sure, she's also killed his family, but it wasn't really a politics thing, it was far more personal than that. but zuko's always harbored lowkey treasonous political views, and she cares more about supporting her son's ambitions than she cares about whether or not the fire nation wins the war, if we're being completely honest. it's a real conundrum. ultimately, they're both just like, "we'll think about it," which is good enough for katara, who is convinced that anyone who thinks about it long enough will ultimately come to the obvious conclusion that it is far better to be Good than Bad.

so she leaves their apartment (struggling in a futile attempt to reset their door before finally giving up and leaning it against the wall for their landlord to fix), signals for aang to come down from the roof, and takes the monorail back to the upper ring, where she informs toph and sokka of the absolutely insane day she just had. sokka is immediately opposed to this idea. "you couldn't have found anyone else even slightly less annoying to teach aang firebending?? i really don't wanna spend more time around that guy than i've already been forced to." toph reminds them all that zuko didn't even actually agree to it. he said he'd think about it, which is the exact kind of thing you say to someone when you want them to leave you alone. sokka's like, "man i wish this was the end of it but if you think aang and katara aren't gonna follow up with him the next day and the day after that then you clearly do not know them well enough."

as it turns out, they don't have time to follow up with him the next day, because this is the day that katara runs into jet. (you really think that jet wouldn't find another way to cause a public scene protesting the inherent inequalities of the city, leading to his arrest by the dai li??? cmon now.) with his help, they make their way to lake laogai, where they free appa, but not before their frenemy's demise. they ride into the earth kingdom palace, mowing down countless dai li agents along the way, expose long feng's fraud, and inform the earth king of the reality of the war. all in a day's work.

they decide to go their separate ways for the time being: sokka to see his dad, aang to see guru pathik, toph to "see" her "mom," while katara stays in the city and "helps with the invasion" (ie, lets momo loose in an earth kingdom war room, uses king kuei's credit card to buy so many earrings, goes to see some more plays and then brag to the guy sitting next to her that she's friends with the lead actress). of course katara told sokka to go see their dad because she knows how much he misses him (and not at all because the thought of going to see her dad makes bile rise in her throat haha why would you even say that????), but she's also curious as to whether she can get to know zuko a little bit better in the meantime as well.

she shows up at his apartment and basically demands that they hang out. zuko has seen her waterbend, so like, what is he gonna do?? say no??? they have a very fun time wandering around the lower ring, sampling the food vendors, perusing the market stalls, getting lost in little winding alleyways. momo stayed behind with katara, and zuko is absolutely enchanted by him the entire night. it startles zuko to realize that he weirdly feels very close to katara, like they could’ve been best friends in another life. maybe they still have that opportunity. if he takes her up on her offer to join her group, then he can hang out with her (and momo!!!!) every day... but no, he couldn’t leave his mom, she’s done far too much for him for him to just abandon her...

he tries to communicate this sentiment to her, tries to tell her just how much his mom means to him. katara sighs. “i understand,” she says. “i’d give anything to be able to spend more time with my mom.” zuko stupidly asks where katara’s mom is now. katara very patiently explains. he’s shocked, so he asks a lot of follow-up questions, and katara is like “yes, finally, my opportunity to fully radicalize him!” and you know what? she does. and then she makes him buy her noodles even though she has the king’s all but unlimited purse and he only has the spare change he makes from his job as an assistant stage manager.

katara walks zuko home from their totally not a date and ursa invites her inside for dinner. katara is already extremely full from all the street food she ate, but she will not pass up the opportunity to eat food cooked by a mom. zuko’s mom, even. after dinner is over, ursa asks katara to help her with the dishes, and katara, who loves an excuse to show off her waterbending, happily agrees. sotto voce, ursa mentions to katara, as casually as she can, “look, you need to know something about zuko. i love my son very much, and nothing could ever change that, but.... he was born...... wrong. there’s nothing i could’ve done differently, so ive accepted it and protected him, but you should know that you’re not gonna get what you’re looking for from him.”

katara’s like, “what do you mean........ wrong?” frankly she has not met a more well-adjusted member of the fire nation. if he’s wrong, then what’s zhao??? ursa sighs. how is she gonna explain this to a wide-eyed teenage girl who has decided to pin all her hopes and dreams on her wonderful mistake of a son. ursa backtracks. “not, uh, wrong, per se, just different. he’s not.... normal.”

katara thinks about the fire nation’s standards for normality and decides that maybe that’s a good thing. ursa’s like “okay but just keep in mind what i said all right?” and katara nods with a wide, impassive smile and thanks her for dinner, the dishes all sparkling clean. she takes the monorail back to the apartment in the upper ring with a warm, tingly feeling in her heart and her hands.

ty lee walks into the lounge area where azula is reading a book on global trade sanctions during the yangchen era and mai is fast asleep. “i spied on zuko like you asked,” she says. “he was on a date with that water tribe girl. they were sooooo cute together.” she says that last part loudly and viciously enough to wake up mai, who simply blinks a few times before saying, “barf.” azula tries to hide how disturbed she feels upon hearing this. she knew that zuko was in the city with mother, pretending to be humble actors, she could tell as much from the single performance she had attended (and left during intermission). but befriending the water tribe peasant?? this was too much.

“i see,” she says. “clearly he needs our help.” in truth, she wants her family to come back home. grandfather is getting old, and despite the fact that her mother has been nothing but horrible to her, she still misses her, still wants her mother there for her inevitable coronation. and if she knows one thing to be true in this world, it’s that where zuko goes, ursa is sure to follow.

“he needs more than a little help,” ty lee agrees. “have you seen his hair?? that boy is due for a total makeover.” mai just rolls her eyes. she needs ty lee to stop acting like this. to just say what she really thinks for even one single second. ugh. whatever. she goes back to sleep. but azula does take ty lee’s words to heart. zuko’s hair is the shortest she’s ever seen it. it was already long by the time she was old enough to remember anything clearly. why is his hair short?

katara wakes up the next morning with an official summons from the kyoshi warriors to meet in the palace. she’s very excited. she doesn’t know suki all that well, but she respects her a lot, and is always happy to get to know her brother’s sort of girlfriend a little better. when she walks into the throne room, she sees three kyoshi warriors she doesn’t recognize sitting on the floor. “hey guys,” she says. it’s so hard to keep track of them with their matching facepaint. “where’s suki? isn’t she here with you?” the girl seated in the middle smiles. “suki is indisposed at the moment,” says a familiar, blood-chilling voice. “i’m afraid you’ll have to make do with us for now.” oh no.

katara draws her water, but ty lee has already backflipped behind her and blocked her chi, katara’s now useless weapon pooling around her as she lies helpless on the floor. she is completely defenseless as they throw her into an underground prison only an earthbender could escape from. elsewhere, aang gets a vision.

sokka is about to embark on his first actual mission with his father and prove himself as a warrior when he is interrupted by a bison and his boy. once again, he’s needed elsewhere. toph joins them on the way back. a dai li agent who doesn't trust the sudden regime change shows up at their apartment and informs them that katara is being held in the crystal catacombs under the city. sokka is torn between going with aang to rescue his sister or going with toph to save the earth king. as much as he wants to be there for katara, aang can master the avatar state now (or so he says), so he'll probably be fine on his own.

the avatar has been lured directly into azula's trap, and when he sees that the sheer number of dai li agents fighting alongside her are overpowering katara, aang has no choice but to go into the avatar state, which is when azula strikes. having successfully rescued the earth king (and bosco), sokka and toph fly on appa to meet katara, but it seems they are too late. aang is all but dead, and it is only when katara heals aang with her spirit water that he breathes once more. even then, he is barely conscious.

before they can go meet their dad and the rest of the southern water tribe fleet, katara knows she has one last pitstop to make. as she heads to the lower ring apartment, she pleads with the spirits that they'll be home. she really needs a win today. but when she opens the door to the apartment, the only people there are those horrible girls mai and ty lee.

"you!" she gasps. "what did you do with zuko?" mai looks characteristically bored as she responds. "we didn't do anything, azula came and told him that she killed the avatar, so he decided to go back to the fire nation. they left, like, an hour ago." katara is furious. "but she didn't kill aang! or, well, she did, but aang's– ugh! tell zuko to come back so i can punch him in the face!" mai rolls her eyes, but ty lee can tell that she's amused. "as much as i would like to see that," she says, "that's not in my control. so."

katara really wants to fight them, or anyone, really, but she has just enough sense to remember what happened every single time she's ever gone up against ty lee, so she leaves, slamming the (only recently-fixed) door so hard behind her that it breaks. she returns to appa alone with a silent shake of her head and tears streaming down her face. she spends the next few weeks tirelessly healing aang, pouring all her anger and frustration and and desperation into trying to get his eyes to open once more.

zuko is also on a fire nation ship, but not the one he spent the past few years on. he's finally heading back to the fire nation. now that his mission to capture and/or help the avatar is fruitless, he really has no other choice. looks like fate made that decision before he could. or well, azula did. he's not sure what happened to azula to turn her into a killer. it makes him feel somewhat guilty, for leaving. maybe she could've come with them, instead of being left behind with their scary grandpa. he's not looking forward to seeing azulon. how is he supposed to tell the most powerful man in the world that he disagrees with everything he's ever done in his life?

not to mention mai won't stop bothering him. he suspects azula has something to do with that too. mai keeps talking like the past three years never happened, and they can just pick back up where they left off, but zuko has changed so much lately. but as much as he tries to brush her off, she's always there. so he figures he may as well talk to her. she's hardly dumb, so maybe she can hear him out.

mai cannot stand all of zuko's borderline incoherent, flowery rants about "truth" and "justice." they're all "katara said" this, and "guru laghima said" that, and "then katara was like" oh my god SHUT UP ABOUT KATARA. mai obviously knew that azula and ty lee were lying when they were like, "i overheard zuko talking about how he has a crush on you, mai. you should totally talk to him," but she also knows that if she doesn't find a way to secure her position with him she will never live it down or be able to show her face in front of either of them again. so eventually she just gets fed up listening to him talk about how he and katara are totally, like, twin flames or whatever and just grabs his face and kisses him.

now this is zuko's first kiss (the date with jin never happened because ursa has more tact than iroh), so he kind of just freezes up and stands there, very still, long after it's over and mai has left the room, successful in her mission and once more bored and in need of a task. she lets him know that they're dating now and that he should bring her flowers, and zuko's just like "okay." he doesn't know how to feel about that. his first kiss. it felt... underwhelming? maybe if it had been set to a beautiful score, with better lighting, elaborate costumes... it was a very aesthetically mundane kiss. maybe that was the only the rehearsal though, and when they kiss again next time, it'll more romantic and elaborate.

zuko gets very in his own head about planning the perfect date so that he can stage the perfect (remedial) first kiss with mai. he brings her flowers, naturally. mai says, "thank you for the gift" and then drops them on the ground. zuko's like. "what??? did i bring you the wrong flowers???" he researched the flower symbolism and arrangement ahead of time so as to perfectly express this symbol of early love, developing feelings. mai's like, "oh, no, you did great, but i hate flowers." zuko has no idea what to say to that. she asked him to bring her flowers. mai's like "yeah but that didn't mean i wanted them." zuko asks mai what she does like, so that next time he can bring her that instead. she says, "knives," and then immediately follows up with, "but don't actually bring me knives. you'd be a bad boyfriend if you brought me knives. you're supposed to bring me flowers." zuko doesn't understand why he should go out of the way to bring flowers for someone who'll just throw them on the ground, but mai assures him that this is what good boyfriends do.

he resolutely continues the date he planned, even though it's clear that mai is not actually enjoying any of it. at the restaurant, she takes only the smallest bites of food, eating rice grain by grain. but every time he asks her if she wants to take it back to the kitchen and get something else, she assures him that she likes it and intends to finish it. they take a walk through a park at night, lanterns glimmering over the black water, and mai can't help but comment on what a cliche this romantic moonlit stroll is. zuko's like, "oh.... uh..... i think it's nice...." and mai's like, "of course it's nice. i love it." dessert is eaten on a picnic on a cliffside looking out at the full moon. mai comments on how full the moon is, but in a tone of voice that implies that she's fatshaming it. zuko blithely ignores her comment. once they finish their respective fruit tarts, zuko decides that this is the perfect moment to kiss mai again, this time with him in control so that it won't be all chaotic and boring like mai is. he still feels vaguely underwhelmed by the kiss, but this time he reassures himself that it's because he was kissing something he doesn't really like all that much, and not because the setting and ambiance and mood was off.

mai goes home extremely pleased with herself. if she has to date the crown prince to please azula, her parents, and whoever else gets their sick kicks from enforcing the heteropatriarchy, she'll at least troll everyone in the process.

meanwhile, ursa is adjusting to life back in the palace. zuko keeps remarking that he didn't remember the fire nation palace being so...... big and, like, foreboding. was it always this miserable here? ursa chuckles darkly. "believe it or not, it used to be a whole lot worse." zuko suddenly recalls the stories she told him in a barn in the middle of the night. he understands why she never told azula the truth.

it's weird. azula seems to actively be seeking ursa out, but she can't seem to go five seconds before picking a fight with her. ursa doesn't know how to communicate with azula. she never did. she assumes azula wants affection, but the more affection she shows her, the more azula pushes her away. but when she rises to azula's bait, azula says, "you haven't been here in over three years and now you want to criticize me???" eventually ursa just resigns herself into accepting that all fourteen year old girls are like this with their mothers; god knows she was, and she didn't even have to deal with being royalty.

aang wakes up, slowly but surely, and he isn't happy just spending his days on a fire nation ship. sokka assures him that this is the safest way for them to plan for the invasion, but aang can't take it. he let the world down. again. there's another storm at sea. this time, he washes ashore on a semi-active volcano. they find him, and from then on, they're hiding out in the fire nation until the invasion. they don disguises. aang goes to a fire nation school, and throws his classmates a secret dance party. katara impersonates a spirit and blows up a factory. sokka finds a master and forges a sword. they scam some people, fight some people, plan for the invasion. all pretty on-brand shenanigans.

azula is even more on-edge than usual. if she doesn't orchestrate this invasion counterattack perfectly, who knows what could happen. what matters most is that the avatar is really dead. she finds the perfect assassin to make sure of it. if the avatar is still alive, he won't be for much longer.

meanwhile zuko is so. bored. he thought being back in the fire nation, celebrated as a hero for finally killing the avatar (not that he actually did that, but y'know. everyone seemed to take azula's word for it, and it's not like he can expose her lie) would mean that he got to make more political decisions, but azulon still seems to treat him like he's some naive child. he traveled the world, he slew the avatar (allegedly), he has a goth gf! he's a man!!! but instead of letting him into important war councils, he's sending him off to ember island to go play kuai ball like he's some fucking kid. his only consolation is that azula's forced to go with him too, and she doesn't seem bothered with it, so maybe it's not a big deal.

it still sucks though. not only does zuko have to spend an entire weekend without his mom, but he has to put up with his annoying ass little sister and her annoying ass little friends, one of whom he is apparently dating, even though all she does is make fun of him to his face. no matter what he does there's no winning with her. she only seems remotely happy with him once he finally gets frustrated enough to dump her, but then five seconds later she's like, "okay i forgive you let's get back together," and he's like, "what??" she is dedicating her life to the bit, but he is the world's worst improv partner he is giving her nothing. ty lee wishes she could just sit there and enjoy the show but unfortunately she has to teach azula how to talk like a human. apparently azula spent all her time learning how to talk to generals, and never learned how to flirt with their dumb as bricks hot sons. they return to the capital and zuko goes to ursa and is like, "i don't know why you insisted that it would be good for me to make friends my age, teenagers fucking suck."

azulon finally lets him into a meeting, though not without azula milking those mindgames for all they're worth just to see if zuko's cheeks will puff up and he'll stomp his feet and clench his fists when he yells at her. he's so dramatic, it's hilarious. mai is waiting for him by the door when they file out of the war room. she asks him how the meeting went, and he stares into the distance and mumbles something inarticulate under his breath that sounds very much like a profound soliloquy, just based on like, the cadence and the meter. for all his enthusiasm for theater, zuko clearly never learned how to enunciate, so mai has no idea what he said. she just pulls her cheeks back into a thin-lipped smile and says, "sounds good, zuko."

zuko takes a day trip on his war balloon to the southern fire nation, and more specifically, a certain tea shop he had to beg his mother for the address to. at first, iroh thinks he is hallucinating the ghost of his dead son, or perhaps his dead brother, but then he realizes that it's just been six years since he'd last seen his nephew. he can replace that shattered teapot anyway.

iroh pours zuko tea as zuko tells him about how he spent the past six years. iroh is fascinated to hear of his travels, especially of meeting the avatar and his water tribe companions (and flying bison and lemur). he tells zuko that he's been living a humble life serving his community through teamaking and hosting pai sho game nights. of course, that's not the full truth, since he does receive frequent letters from the order of the white lotus, but zuko doesn't need to know that.

finally, zuko asks iroh what he came all this way to ask: "why don't you want to be firelord? you would have so much power to help people. don't you have a responsibility to use that power?" he could've stayed in ba sing se, safe behind the walls, but he knew it wasn't right. why doesn't his uncle? iroh sighs. "look, prince zuko. this may be difficult for you to understand, but i have caused a lot of harm in my past, and i am ashamed of what i have done. here, i don't have to worry about hurting anyone. tea may be a small joy, but it makes people happy. i would rather spend my life not harming anyone than having all the power in the world, even if it means helping the 'greater good.' this was the way of the air nomads, and i believe that if everyone adopted this practice, the world would be a better place." he places his lotus tile in the center of the board, beating zuko by a hair. with their tea drained and their pai sho game over (5 - 0), zuko hugs iroh goodbye and heads back to his war balloon with the promise to see iroh again soon. there are tears in iroh's eyes as zuko leaves.

the day of black sun is finally upon them, and everyone is prepared to meet their destiny. zuko remembers to scrawl a hasty letter to mai before removing his armor and undoing his topknot. where he's going, he won't need these hollow signifiers. while azula is distracting sokka, aang, and toph, zuko walks into azulon's throne room, swords in hand. he calmly tells his grandfather that he can no longer belong to such a cruel and violent system. there is no changing it from the inside, so he's leaving. oh, and also, he didn't kill the avatar. azula lied about that. he wasn't sure that he was alive until now, but turns out the avatar is part of the invasion force, so good luck with that. azulon is so shocked he actually passes out.

zuko runs to his mother's chambers to let her know of his somewhat sudden change of plan, only he can't find her anywhere. on second thought, he probably should've told her ahead of time. now he has no clue where she is and he needs to leave soon if he wants to follow the avatar. also, it's probably for the best if she stays behind with azula anyway. he leaves a note on her dresser and rushes to his war balloon, right in time to pursue their flying bison.

none of them want to talk about what just happened. the invasion should've gone perfectly, but instead it was a colossal failure. sokka suggests that they still have time to stick to the old plan, teach aang firebending in time for sozin's comet. zuko, who managed to sneak up on them with their backs turned (minus toph), offers his services. before he can even finish waving awkwardly, katara has nearly speared him 20 times, and it's only with aang and sokka holding her arms back that her ice doesn't penetrate his flesh and instead just melts midair and splashes on top of him just someone dropped a freezing bucket on his head, the force of which knocks him over.

zuko slips and slides a little before finally righting himself and repeating his little speech. "i can teach firebending. to you." he tells aang, while trying not to shrivel under the weight of katara's glare. aang's like, "yeah, i don't think that's a good idea. you should probably leave before our muscles give out and we can no longer hold katara back." he takes one look at katara, who is frothing at the mouth ready to rip zuko into a million little pieces, and is like, "yeah okay."

toph tells them that they're being idiots. they need a firebending teacher, but apparently the guy who offers to teach them firebending isn't good enough because he ghosted katara or something? after katara has tired herself out of yelling to toph about all the ways in which he betrayed her, and then sokka tacks on that toph wasn't there, she hasn't actually witnessed zuko's bad vibes firsthand (which conflicts katara because on one hand, she quite likes zuko's vibes, but on the other hand, she wants to murder him), toph calls them blind and stomps away.

zuko is having one of his typical nightmares when he's interrupted by a little green child he only vaguely recognizes. he is not fully lucid upon hearing her, so his instinct, to shoot fire at her, proves to be a disastrous mistake. toph crawls all the way back to camp with burned feet. hurting katara emotionally was one thing (as protective of katara as sokka is, he also recognizes that katara does often set herself up to get hurt emotionally), but hurting toph physically is another. toph assures the furious siblings that she startled zuko, and it was an accident, but to katara it's just fuel for the flames, and to sokka it's the worst thing anyone could do. absolutely no way are they letting that violent clown anywhere near their friends.

then who shows up but combustion man. they can't run from him anymore, not if they want to preserve what's left of the western air temple. zuko runs right up to his face. "my sister hired you, right??? well i can pay you double to stop!!!!" he doesn't listen, for some reason. (maybe it's a matter of pride?) he shoves zuko aside with one extremely large hand. it's like picking up a kitten. it's impossible to fight this guy head-on. but sokka throws his boomerang square in his third eye, which results in him blowing himself up, and zuko too. almost.

aang has no choice but to thank zuko. even though sokka was the one to kill him, hello???? but, it was noble of zuko to attempt to save them. katara is tempted to suggest that it was all staged to make him seem heroic, but then thinks better of it. no one is that insane. he launches into a (far more coherent) speech (now that he's not at risk of developing hypothermia), and gives them the full explanation of why he made the choices he did, and what made him change his mind. zuko then apologizes to toph for burning her feet. he acknowledges the destructive nature of firebending, but that he only wants to use firebending to heal and help people from now on. this promise shifts something in aang. maybe zuko does need to be his firebending teacher.

he asks toph what she thinks, and of course toph is all for it. she knows a sincere apology when she hears one, and besides, zuko seems like an all right guy to her. sokka acquiesces that aang does need a firebending teacher, so he'll do whatever it takes to win the war, even if it means putting up with this absolute schmuck. katara glares at zuko while admitting through gritted teeth that she trusts aang's decision.

sokka shows zuko to his room and zuko is so grateful and happy so sokka tries to be polite, but afterwards he goes to aang and is like "okay it is literally so hard to be nice to that guy." katara shows up in zuko's doorway the second he's done setting up a photo of his mom by his bed and she threatens him so terrifyingly he nearly blacks out. since he hasn't eaten all day, his hunger wins out over his fear of katara and he joins them for dinner, where he finds out that three other people he's never seen before in his life are also staying here?? before he can properly introduce himself, sokka's just like "zuko, meet haru, teo, and the duke. guys, meet zuko, he's the piece of shit i was telling you about who's gonna teach aang firebending." zuko's just like, "...............................hello?"

zuko excuses himself from dinner early. he was already scared of sokka from the moment he met him, and that was before he watched him kill combustion man with a boomerang. now he also has reason to be terrified of katara. he burned their friend's feet. things are still pretty awkward with the avatar. and there are three other teenage boys here too. is it too late to go work in his uncle's teashop and avoid all his responsibilities?

the next day, zuko does some pretty weak firebending demonstrations for aang. frankly, firebending has always been one of his weakest skills. aang claps politely, but zuko feels like a fool. but then he remembers something iroh said during his visit, that everything he learned about true firebending could be found at the sun warriors' temple. aang's like, "aren't they all gone?" but zuko just shrugs. he trusts uncle iroh.

katara accuses zuko of wanting to take aang to secondary location so that he can drug and kill and possibly torture and even eat him, but aang's like, "no, katara, zuko is many things, but he's not a liar. plus i'm pretty sure i can take him lol i mean look at how skinny he is a gust of wind could knock him over." this gets katara to smile. "you're right, aang," she agrees, "i trust you." zuko is just standing there like, "okay well first of all that was really rude. also i'm not a cannibal??"

they come back a few days later with a fire nation dance locked and loaded. katara and sokka have a lot to say about it, but eventually zuko relaxes upon realizing that them gently homophobically bullying him is actually far preferable to them talking about how they would murder him. with aang now fully onboard the zuko train, it's easier for everyone else to integrate him into the group. toph, teo, haru, and the duke (not that zuko actually remembers any of their names) all treat him like he's any other friend, katara limits her dislike to mean jokes at his expense, and sokka is pretty quiet and withdrawn in general.

one night, sokka pulls zuko aside. zuko tries to mask his terror as he oh so casually asks, "so what's up?" sokka asks him where high ranking prisoners of war would be held, and zuko is forced to tell him once sokka admits that he wants to know about his dad. of course he's also aware that this means that sokka will not rest until he has found his father, so zuko ambushes him as he attempts to sneak off. sokka's like, "look, no offense, but even if i did let you come, you'd only slow me down. i don't need some useless imbecile getting me caught." zuko's like, "okay, well, offense taken, also you need a firebender to operate a war balloon and that's your only viable mode of transportation." sokka points out that actually that isn't true, he did quite literally invent the mechanism that allows war balloons to fly, and zuko's just like, "oh my god what the fuck nooooo" and "how is that even possible????" but then he says, "if you don't let me help you i'll literally kill myself right now and then you'll have to explain to aang why his new firebending teacher is dead. my blood will be on your hands." he's fully bluffing, but sokka isn't willing to take his chances (mostly because killing himself just to spite someone else has always lowkey been his fantasy). sokka is like, "well your blood will be on my hands either way but whatever it's your funeral" and zuko's like, "what?" and sokka's like "what?" and off they go.

they return with suki, hakoda, and chit sang, sokka now of the opinion that zuko is somewhat tolerable. what he lacks in brains he makes up for in bravery and extreme sincerity. azula shows up to the temple a while later with a crazed look in her eye that does not bode well. zuko, mai, and ty lee all betrayed her. her mother has disappeared god knows where. azulon's health is failing but it's clear he doesn't want her to succeed him now that he knows she lied to him to bring zuko back. he keeps asking for iroh. azula doesn't know what to do. all she can hope for is that if she kills the avatar and zuko for good then maybe grandfather will be able to forgive her before he dies. of course it can never be that easy.

the gaang celebrates another near escape, but katara sees nothing to celebrate. even sokka accepts zuko now. how is he of all people not on her side about this?! zuko goes to confront katara. he doesn't understand why she won't just trust him. she reminds him that she was the first person to trust him, to offer him a spot in their group. and he abandoned her, betrayed her trust. he asks what he can do to make it up to her. she snarls, "oh, i don't know, maybe you can bring my mother back!"

zuko doesn't really know what to do with that, since she told him what happened to her mother. zuko barges into sokka's tent without a second thought and asks him what the flag emblem on the ships that raided them that day looked like. sokka tells him, as quickly as possible, so that he'll leave him the fuck alone. zuko waits outside katara's tent all night to share this information with her. they go track yon rha down, despite aang and sokka's concerns.

katara returns with a newfound understanding of herself, of her own humanity. of how to let go of the stories she told herself to survive, and instead better appreciate what's real, even when it's not pretty. she understands zuko better now too. she hugs him, and from that moment onwards, they are best friends.

they travel to ember island, where they spend their remaining days until sozin's comet. from his deathbed, azulon tells his granddaughter that she can't be trusted with the plan – her plan – to burn the earth kingdom to the ground. instead he'll send a delegation of generals on their airship fleet. he wants to keep her close, in the palace, where he won't have to worry about her screwing things up. guards follow her everywhere. no matter what she does or where she goes, she knows there are eyes on her, watching for any signs of further betrayal. she's a glorified prisoner, having to pretend she doesn't notice. needless to say, this situation is terrible for her already rapidly declining mental health.

informed of the plan to raze the earth kingdom, aang isn't sure what to do. zuko reminds him that azulon is in his final years, but azula is next in line to take the throne. aang isn't sure what's worse, having to kill an old man or a teenager. zuko reminds aang that this "old man" is responsible for the decimation of the southern water tribe and occupation of the earth kingdom. aang doesn't like being talked down to as if he doesn't already know that, so he leaves the room. he needs to be alone, to meditate and reflect on what impossible choice he must make next.

the next morning, aang is missing. they can't find him anywhere; they even search the entire island, but despite the fact that his glider is still in the house, he's gone. zuko takes them to june the bounty hunter to track him down, but she informs them that he's disappeared. for all intents and purposes, he doesn't exist. zuko refuses to lose hope. he gives june his mother's shawl. sokka's like "you just take that with you.... everywhere you go?" but katara and toph are like "awww no it's sweet shut up." she leads them just outside the outer wall of ba sing se.

they make camp there for the night, but are awoken by four old masters. they lead them inside the white lotus camp grounds, where it turns out that iroh, ursa, and about an eighth of zuko's former crew have been living since the day of black sun. as it turns out, ursa received a letter from iroh after zuko visited him, cryptically instructing her to meet him on the outer wall of ba sing se on the day of the invasion. zuko asks his mom why she didn't take him or azula with her, but ursa admits that she didn't know where they were and she didn't have time to find them. she could only hope they would remain safe in her absence.

katara is shocked. "you've been a member of the white lotus the entire time???" she asks ursa. she informs her that actually, she just joined in an official capacity. she kept regular correspondence with iroh, but she wasn't herself a member. then he invited her to participate in their mission to take back ba sing se for the earth kingdom. ursa has vital information on the city that was integral to their plans, being the only member of the organization who's actually lived there and all. besides, they could use another firebender, especially if they plan on striking during sozin's comet.

zuko is, of course, overjoyed to see his mother again, but he admits that he's worried about azula. they've left her behind in the palace once again, but this time she doesn't have mai and ty lee to rely on, and she's fallen out of their grandfather's good graces. they devise a plan. sokka, suki, and toph will take down the airship fleet, while zuko and katara go to the palace. they have to be careful. the palace is filled with guards, and they don't want to fight any more people than they have to. they find azula, sitting alone in her room with scissors in her hand and clumps of hair on the floor.

"what are you doing?" zuko asks. "is it not obvious?" azula retorts. "i'm giving myself a royal haircut. i have to look good for my coronation after all. any day now, grandfather will take his last breath, and i will become firelord. it's a shame that it has to happen after sozin's comet, since i would have done an excellent job of burning the earth kingdom to the ground, but no matter, i'm sure the generals will do a fine job as well. grandfather wants me by his side in his final days, you see. i find the sentiment a bit maudlin, but he is dying, so i can forgive him this." her words are slightly slurred as she rambles.

zuko merely scoffs. "you're not going to become firelord," he says. azula laughs, high and manic. "oh, you think you're going to become firelord? after you disgraced our nation by joining the avatar? you're hilarious." katara readies her water. "and you're going down," she snaps back. they get into fighting stances, but zuko puts his hand out. "wait, no," he says. "i don't wanna be firelord." all the fight is knocked out of azula out of sheer surprise. "but didn't you always say it was your destiny?" she asked. "i spent our whole lives trying to convince you not to be firelord and suddenly... you agree?" zuko nods. "yeah pretty much."

but suddenly another problem presents itself. who will take the throne? katara suggests ursa, but azula shakes her head. "she would never agree to it. she hates it here." same goes for iroh. "what about you?" zuko asks. "could you do it?" katara laughs. then she realizes he's serious. then she laughs even harder. "or sokka? sokka could be good." katara's like, "i know, let's get momo to be firelord. we can make him a little cape and crown." she's obviously being sarcastic, but zuko, who adores momo, puts his hand on his heart as he says, "i can think of no one worthier." meanwhile azula's like, "who the hell is momo?"

they explain to azula that momo is their pet flying lemur, and azula's just like, "you know what? fuck it. that's hilarious. i don't even care anymore. life's just a waste of time until you die anyway, right? so what the hell." katara and zuko exchange a look. gently, zuko asks, "um.... azula? do you wanna talk about it?"

by the time everyone else gets back to the palace (sokka with a broken leg, but everyone else relatively unscathed), zuko and katara are just like, "oh, good, you're all alive. and on our end, azula is taking a nap. yeah she cried so hard she eventually passed out. but now she's sleeping soundly :)"

ursa goes to check on azula, who is curled up in bed with her hair in a braid and a cup of half-finished tea on her bedside table. she decides not to disturb her daughter while she's resting. whatever conversation they should have can wait for tomorrow. then she goes to azulon's room, where he's slowly dying. she decides to speed up the process. meanwhile, zuko and katara inform their friends that they've decided that they're going to crown momo as the next firelord. aang, sokka, toph, and suki are all ecstatic. this the best possible outcome. (the only objector is appa, who maintains that he would do a better job, but his roar of indignation sounds a lot like his roar of agreement, so everyone just assumes that he's happy for his friend's new promotion.)

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