#tribe.’ (grinning) ‘yeah but /she/ doesn’t. and you never know what she might have heard about water tribe marriage customs. where did you

[tragedykery]

you wanna ramble about some of your visions of the little guys? because i would Love to hear <333 (also feel free to ignore this if you don't want to, haha!!!)

thank you so so much for sending this ask ily <333 and I am. so so so sorry this started out as just a short stating of facts but then it began to lead a life of its own (uh cw for animal death)

ok for background info I’ve got this post here with a character list doc etc but it’s not really necessary to understand this

anyway I’ll be talking about sita (tag) bc I love her <3

in the kyoshi novels it’s said that all air nomads are benders but I think that’s stupid. there definitely are air nomad non-benders but they’re uncommon and generally don’t live in the temples.

sita is one of those non-benders. as she grows up in the eastern air temple, she practices the katas and fighting style just as hard as the other kids—maybe even harder—but no matter how hard she tries, she cannot get the air to move as it does for her peers. she feels like an outsider. there’s one other non-bender girl there, but she’s a few years older. they play together a lot, and it helps, but when the girl leaves to travel the world, sita is left behind, and she feels more alone than she ever has before.

she knows it’s not the fault of the her friend or other nuns, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. so one day, when she just can’t take it anymore, she stuffs her bag with food and all the airbending scrolls she can find (she cannot kill the hope inside her that maybe if she practices hard enough…). she gets her bison and flies away.

(she’s sixteen.)

she tries to find her old friend, but she could be anywhere. so she explores the world, and she’s happier than she’s been in a long time.

however, one day, her bison gets sick. she’s camping somewhere on an island in the fire nation, but no one there knows how to help her. she sets out toward the eastern air temple, but as they’re flying over the sea, they get caught in a storm. she worries they’re not going to survive, but by some stroke of luck, they get rescued by a bunch of seafarers on a ship called the ziyou. they’re friendly, and the captain promises to take care of them for as long as they need, but sita was right about one thing. her bison doesn’t survive.

taituk, the captain, promises they’ll drop her off at the nearest port, but.

she has no reason to go to the air temples now. it would only stir up painful memories. and her chances of finding her old friend, alone in the earth kingdom, on foot, are practically zero. she thinks about it.

she knows the crew she had initially thought to be regular seafarers are pirates. but they’re not like what she has heard about pirates. when she experiences a raid (she isn’t expected to participate and can just hide in the room she’s been staying in) she listens anxiously. she can hear taituk give the crew a sort of pep talk, and hears them tell the crew, with the practised ease of someone who has given a speech a thousand times before, to not hurt anyone unless absolutely necessary. “surrender and no harm will come to you,” she hears taituk call out to people on the other ship. and when the merchant ship’s captain surrenders, they follow through on their word.

she gets to know the crew. she learns about their motives, how they’re all outcasts, how they only attack the ships of rich merchants or other pirates, how most of them turned to piracy because there was no other option, to feed themselves and in some cases their families too.

maybe, sita thinks, she can figure out how to make this work.

—

sita’s been on the ziyou for almost two years. she’s gotten good at incorporating the fighting skills she’s learned on the ship into the air nomad fighting style she has such extensive knowledge of. she learns she has a talent for using projectile weapons—though nisha remains the best with throwing knives, she’s easily the second best, and her handiness with a bow and arrows more than makes up for it. she’s decent with a spear too, though she’s more defensive with it than the girl who teaches her, aki, would like.

(the cook, chusak, offers to teach her his weird fighting style of throwing pans at people, but she turns him down. that’s just weird and impractical and more often than not leaves people with bruises, concussions, or broken bones. well, she doesn’t need to learn to use every possible projectile weapon.)

she might not be able to bend air like she had always wished (and still wishes) she could, but as she pins an enemy to the mast with nothing more than a flick of her wrist or the release of a taut bowstring, or feels the salty wind ruffle her hair as she stands in the crow’s nest, she finds she doesn’t mind her lack of bending as much as she used to. she’s made peace with it.

she’s still shocked, though, when one day during a raid (the captain refused to surrender, proud as the beifongs he works for), she looks over her shoulder and sees a woman floating several feet above the deck. her eyes are closed and her long hair whips in the wind, and while she’s wearing earth kingdom clothing and doesn’t have any tattoos, there’s no way she’s not an airbender.

“what’s an airbender doing on a ship like that?” she muses to taituk as they’re hauling boxes of loot onto their own ship. “she must be powerful. to lift yourself into the air and create a storm like that takes a lot of strength.” (no one knows, of course, that was the avatar state, and they don’t realise it for a long time.)

“well, whatever the case, we’re lucky chusak knocked her out,” nisha grumbles. she turns to show the two of them a nasty-looking gash on her shoulder. “she almost got me with one of her own knives.”

taituk pulls a face. “ouch. well, better go see mallik, then.” nisha rolls her eyes and grumbles something sarcastic before walking off, but before sita can tease taituk about being “romantic” (she doesn’t have proof yet, but she knows!), taituk says, frowning, “iraluq said they seemed scared, though. the airbender I mean. scared and confused, as they threw up their arms and knocked her ice daggers away. as if they didn’t know what they had what they done or how.”

sita’s still pondering that over a few hours later, when she hears shouting on the other side of the ship. she rushes there to investigate. she makes her way through the crowd that has gathered on the deck. “what’s happen–”

she falls silent as she sees the airbender standing pressed against the wall, terrified.

“everyone give us some space!” taituk calls. “go on with what you were previously doing. nothing to see here.”

“what happened?” sita whispers to nuvuja, who’s, for some reason, is opening all the crates they had gotten from the raid and checking their contents.

nuvuja’s reply is brisk. “xuan managed to accidentally kidnap a person.”

“how?!”

nuvuja slams the crate she’d been rummaging through shut and opens the next one. “he was supposed to help check the loot but got lazy. just carried crates onto the ship without checking if their contents were the same as the labels. and apparently the airbender fell into a crate of rice when she got knocked out by chusak. lid slammed shut. we just found out while getting stuff for dinner.”

she grimaces as she looks over at the airbender. taituk is speaking to her softly, and while she looks less scared than before, her eyes are full of tears. “poor girl,” nuvuja murmurs. “we’ve got no clue where her ship is now. stranded on a ship in the middle of the sea with a bunch of pirates. she must be terrified.”

sita thanks nuvuja, and walks off to join taituk. maybe she can help.

—

apparently the airbender—hira—does not, in fact, know she is one. or she didn’t, until now. she and sita become fast friends. sita’s a friendly presence, a reassuring constant in the scary period waiting hira’s caught in until they reach land.

“I guess I should go to one of the temples, huh?” hira says a few days after her arrival on the ship. she tries for humour, but sounds breathless. scared. “if I want to learn”—she hesitates for a moment—“bending.”

she’d been both scared and elated to learn she was a bender. apparently she’s grown up as an orphan with no knowledge of her heritage.

“I can try to teach you some stuff, if you want,” sita offers.

hira’s eyes widen. ��you’re an airbender too?!”

sita tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “no.” she tries for a smile. “but I grew up in the temples, so I know a few things.”

(she knows more than a few things.)

—

it’s weird, teaching someone to bend when sita can’t herself, but they make it work. hira’s a prodigy, easily executing techniques sita remembers took the other girls at the temple months to master. (techniques sita will never be able to do.) sita can help her, teach her, in a way hira will never be able to do for her. you can’t give someone bending, after all.

they meditate together, and cook air nomad recipes with chusak’s help. she teaches hira to read, write and speak the most common air nomad languages, and hira teaches her her earth kingdom town’s language in return.

it would be so easy to be jealous of hira. and maybe she is jealous, just a little. but she doesn’t let that jealousy fester, doesn’t let it turn into resentment. she won’t ever be able to bend, but she can be proud of hira, can be happy for her. can laugh with her as they mess up the recipe for fruit pies and smile at her when she masters yet another kata. she can participate in her culture with another air nomad, one who she knows won’t judge her for being a non-bender. (she spent the first twenty-seven years of her life as one, after all.)

and it will be enough.

(she doesn’t know that hira is jealous of her in the same way, for growing up in the temples. (hira’s spent her whole life wanting nothing more than connection with her culture.) but much in the same way, hira doesn’t allow her jealousy to lead her. she and sita are both air nomads who will always be a little bit of an outsider, and they’ll have to stick together. it’s not just that, though. she likes being around this chatty, lively kid (“I’m eighteen!” sita always protests). she likes to gossip with her and sit in the crow’s nest together and play silly games and have competitions who have climb the masts the fastest. sita is one of the main reasons hira decides to stay when the ziyou reaches the port taituk had promised they’d drop her off at.)

(the rest of the crew notices, that since hira’s arrival, sita seems happier than she’s ever been.)

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt17

there’s a lil easter egg in here :) wonder who can find it first!! thanks so much for reading i lov u

pt1

pt16

pt18

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.”

When the group awoke the next morning, Aang was gone. Each member searched high and low for the young Avatar, but to no avail. “I don’t really think this is the time for him to go on one of his special Avatar journeys,” Toph grumbled, to which (Y/N) hummed in agreement. As the group reunited after their searches, Zuko proposed the idea of utilizing the bounty hunter June and her shirshu Nyla in finding Aang. 

“Isn’t she the one who paralyzed me?” (Y/N) asked bitterly.

“And me?” Sokka chimed in. 

“And me?” Katara added. Zuko shrugged. 

“Her shirshu can track someone down from across a continent. If anyone can find Aang, it’s her.” (Y/N) was not interested in the idea of procuring a bounty hunter to find Aang, but it was their only hope. 

And that hope was quickly squandered. When they found June and convinced her to help them, her shirshu couldn’t locate Aang.

“Is he dead?” (Y/N) asked. June shook her head. 

“Nyla would be able to smell his body. Your friend isn’t in this world anymore.” What that meant exactly, the group had no idea. Even when Aang traveled to the Spirit World, his physical body remained in the physical one. How could he have just disappeared? 

“Try this, then,” Zuko said, holding up a piece of clothing to Nyla’s nose. The shirshu sniffed and immediately turned in the opposite direction, ready to dart off into the woods. 

“Whose is that?” Katara asked. 

“It’s my uncle’s. If anyone will be able to tell us what to do, it’s him.” 

Nyla led the friends to the outer wall of Ba Sing Se, where they were met by King Bumi, Master Pakku, and the other great masters they had met over their travels. 

“How do you all know each other?” Sokka asked. 

“We are all part of the Order of the White Lotus,” Piandao explained. “An organization that transcends loyalty to our nations and instead comes together to fight for the common good.” 

“Does that mean my uncle is here?” Zuko asked. Piandao nodded. The six friends were led into the main camps, where many tents had been set up to house other members of the Order. As (Y/N) passed, she recognized a few of the members as people she had known during her time traveling the three nations. Citizens of the Fire Nation that were also part of the Order seemed to be few and far between, but (Y/N) supposed their numbers deteriorated after nearly a hundred years of pro Fire Nation propaganda. 

The biggest tent of them all belonged to the Grand Lotus: Iroh. The rest of the group dispersed to discuss battle plans, leaving (Y/N) and Zuko paused just paces away from the entrance of the tent.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him. 

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.” Her fingers slid from his and Zuko turned to watch her walk away before taking a deep breath and entering his uncle’s tent. 

(Y/N) sat between Sokka and Katara as they listened to Master Pakku describe the Order’s plans to liberate Ba Sing Se. He paused as she joined their group. 

“Ah, (Y/N). Glad to see you’re back in the clothes of your home nation.” It was a joke of course, a nod to the last time they had seen each other. 

When the Fire Nation was attacking the Northern Water Tribe, (Y/N) had felt defenseless while fighting off the Fire Nation soldiers, so she had unleashed her firebending on them. Soldiers from the Water Tribe had captured her as a spy and it had taken a lot of convincing from Katara that she really was trying to fight against the Fire Nation. It was an embarrassing misunderstanding that led to (Y/N) to choose hand-to-hand combat over her own firebending if she could help it. 

“Evening, Master Pakku,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Do you really think Iroh and the other firebenders will be powerful enough to take back the city?” Sokka questioned. Both Pakku and (Y/N) nodded. 

“His power as a firebender is unparalleled,” Pakku explained. 

“He might look like a sweet old man, but he is one of the best firebenders in the entire nation,” (Y/N) added. “I learned some of my best techniques from studying how he fought. Plus the comet will only make firebenders even more powerful.” 

“Yeah, but you’re fighting against Fire Nation soldiers,” was Sokka’s rebuttal. “Won’t they be more powerful too?” 

(Y/N) nodded. “I don’t mean to sound like a snob, but people like Iroh and I spent a lot more time training than those lousy soldiers. It’ll be a long fight, but not a hard one for Iroh.” 

Almost as if he had been summoned, Iroh exited his tent with Zuko as his side. (Y/N) recognized the glistening trails of tears on Zuko’s face, but also saw the happiness in his eyes. 

“(Y/N)!” Iroh cheered. She smiled widely and stood to run over and give him a hug. “It is very good to see you again.” 

“And you the same,” she said, giving him a bow. “It feels like just yesterday that we broke out of the Fire Nation prison.” 

“This is who broke you out?” Katara asked. Iroh chuckled. 

“You think I would let the only other sane person in the Fire Nation stay in jail?” They returned to the campfire to further discuss their plans for the comet. Iroh poured them all cups of tea as Zuko and (Y/N) sat next to each other. Katara was the only one who caught the look of surprise on his face and she returned it with a smile as she accepted her cup of tea. 

“Katara,” Zuko said. “How would you like to come to the Fire Nation to help (Y/N) and I take down Azula?” 

“It would be my pleasure,” Katara said with a grin. The situation still gave (Y/N) a heavy feeling in her stomach, but sometimes the right thing was the hardest thing to do. 

Eventually, (Y/N’s) friends and the other members of the Order dispersed from the campfire to retire for the night. Only (Y/N) and Iroh remained, finishing off the pot of tea. 

“I see you and Zuko reconciled,” Iroh hummed as he sipped his tea.” 

“For the most part, yes.” Iroh was the easiest person to talk to, (Y/N) found. When she was younger and had not even her own parents to turn to, if Iroh was visiting, he would lend her an ear. “I think I’ve forgiven him. Part of me still gets mad thinking about the things he’s done to me and my friends.” 

“That is only natural. The heart cannot forget the wounds that it has endured, but it can heal from them.” (Y/N) nodded. 

“I’m trying to.” 

“I always thought you and Zuko were the most interesting pair.” 

“How so?” Iroh sat in silence for a moment as he pieced his thoughts together. 

“You are strong in your beliefs. You are not afraid to be defiant if it means doing what is right. I remember when you were younger, I heard you arguing with your mother about why you should continue your firebending training. You told her that you did not care what she wanted you to do, because you knew becoming a better bender would make you stronger.” Iroh chuckled. 

“Zuko had told me to say that, so I could stay in training with him. She gave me the punishment of a lifetime after I said it.” 

“I am sure. But Zuko was not granted the same strength as you. He is loyal to the people he cares about, which is why it was so hard for him to choose what was right and wrong. He loved you and I but loved his father and Azula as well.” 

(Y/N) furrowed her brows. She wasn’t quite sure where Iroh was going with this, but then again, was anything he said ever straightforward?” 

“You pushed Zuko to make the right choices and he pushed you to stand up for yourself. As I watched you grow up, I noticed how you rotated around each other. Like the moon and tides, you and Zuko were always the driving force behind the other.” 

“Until he was banished.” 

“Zuko fought so hard to capture the Avatar because he wanted to restore his honor and return home to you. He will never admit it, but that is all he wanted.” 

“And I guess here I was, fighting against my home for doing horrible things and taking someone I cared about away from me.” 

“We are all connected, but no matter how hard you or Zuko tried to cut the thread that tied the two of you together, it is indestructible.” Iroh finished the last of his tea and stood. “You must rest. We all have a big day ahead of us.” 

(Y/N) watched as Iroh returned to his tent. She squashed out the dying fire. and made her way back to the tens she and her friends had been given. Katara and Toph slept in the first one, Suki and Sokka in the next, and Zuko lay fast asleep in the last one. 

(Y/N) crawled into the spot beside him, feeling the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on her body. She lay on her back and instantly fell asleep. 

Katara woke the next morning and decided to rouse (Y/N) and Zuko first, since they would be traveling to the Fire Nation together. She pulled open the door to the tent to see (Y/N) snoring on Zuko’s chest, with Zuko’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist. 

Katara dropped the tent door and walked away. She could give them a few more minutes. 

---

Tag List!

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[gaeilgeoirgay]

Naimhde

This is also part of Pósadh Eagraithe :The Series and I hope you like it! It’s from Han Solo’s POV when he first realises that 1. Boba’s alive and 2. Boba is married to Din meaning that 3. He can’t shoot Boba :(

Ao3 Link

Naimhde= Enemies

Look, Han Solo was having a good day. Emphasis on was. Ben had slept through the night again so Han got his full recommended hours of rest. Then Leia had had the morning off from the Senate so they had all gone to the park together. Luke was on planet for once with the green frog child so Ben was able to play with him. Leia had told him days ago that they were required to attend a ball that was being hosted to celebrate the Republic getting a treaty with Mandalore so he’d already gone through the seven stages of grief about that.

Now, he’s at said ball and across the room from him, Boba fucking Fett is smirking at him. Han snarls at the look the bastard has on his (apparently very scarred?) face but Leia puts a warning hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s Fett but he’s the leader of the Tatooine crime syndicate now, and rumour has it he’s taken over a couple more of the Hutt Space planets. He’s powerful, Han, and he probably hates us enough. No fighting.” She hisses into his ear.

Of course Boba Fett came out of a fucking sarlacc pit to become a godsdamned crime lord. He shouldn’t have been surprised. And he clearly has some sort of power in Mandalore because Mandalorians aren’t naturally deferential but they seem to treat Fett with an extra bit of respect.

A silver Mandalorian comes over to Fett and says something lowly to him. Fett nods and saunters over to Han and Leia with the other Mando striding ahead of him. “That’s the Mand’alor, their king. No one knows his name or species and he never takes his helmet off in front of non-Mandalorians. He signed the treaty as ‘Mand’alor the Reclaimer’ and his people adore him. He’s rumoured to be absolutely deadly, so once again, Han, I don’t care if he’s coming over with Boba Fett, behave.” Leia whispers and Han suppresses his urge to punt Fett into the nearest star.

Contrary to popular belief, Han is smart enough not to piss off the ruler of a warrior culture that are supposedly the greatest fighters in the galaxy. He got lucky with Fett the first time, he’s not making the man’s whole planet mad at him by fucking with their king.

Their pretty intimidating king, he’s not gonna lie. There’s a veritable armoury on the Mand’alor’s person and Han can see the familiar shape of a lightsaber hilt at his waist. Leia had mentioned something about a ‘Darksaber’ and Han does not want to find out the difference between a Darksaber and a lightsaber firsthand.

The Mand’alor inclines his head in a regal greeting as he halts in front of Leia. “Senator Organa, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person. Luke mentions you often.” He says in a low, smooth voice. Huh. Han is absolutely loyal to Leia but if the Mando king ever offers a threesome…..

Wait, how does Mando know Luke? Leia seems confused too but she hides it well. “The honour is all mine, Your Majesty. I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with my brother though?” She says politely, voicing the question in a much more eloquent manner than Han would’ve.

Mando chuckles and answers her with a smile in his voice. “Cuun ad, Grogu, is one of Luke’s students. He’s the small green one with an affinity for frogs.” He explains and Han raises an eyebrow. Luke had said that Grogu would never grow to be taller than maybe hip height but Mando is of fairly average height for a humanoid species. 5’10 or ’11 maybe.

Leia smiles brightly. “Yes, I do know Grogu. Luke mentioned his father was a Mandalorian. That would be you, then?” She says, relaxing slightly. Talking about children is a safe topic, even when Boba Fett is part of the conversation, and no, Han is not letting that go, he’s a Senator’s trophy husband, he’s mastered the art of polite glaring.

Fett speaks up then, still smirking. “Both of his fathers are Mandalorians. I adopted Grogu when the two of us said the riduurok.” He says, looking directly at Han as his brain freezes in its tracks.

Boba Fett is married? Boba Fett is married to the king of Mandalore? Boba Fett is a father?

None of that computes. Han Solo and Boba Fett are not supposed to have anything in common and Boba Fett is most certainly not supposed to be a regular human being with a spouse and kids and apparently a job, if being a crime lord counts as one. But clearly he is and Han is mad about it. It may be irrational but the bastard froze him in carbonite for three years and he’s gotten away with it. Whenever Han imagined Fett it was as a corpse being digested by a plant monster, not as a successful husband and father. Oh, Han is so mad.

Leia squeezes his hand a little tighter than necessary and Han grits his teeth. No fighting. He can do this. He really doesn’t want to do this. Chandrila’s sun is actually quite hot, he knows Beskar has a high melting point but he reckons it wouldn’t hold up against a star. He could just get in the Falcon, with Fett, and then space him beside the star. Boom, problem solved.

Leia is congratulating Fett and the Mand’alor on their marriage and subsequent child. To be completely honest with himself, Han may or not be considering telling Luke to get Grogu into therapy. Having Boba Fett as a father would definitely fuck a kid up.

He tunes back into the conversation as the Mand’alor answers Leia and immediately wishes he hadn’t. “Yes, children are the most important part of our culture. I adopted Grogu before we got together and I actually only met Boba a little while before Luke began teaching him. Boba always knew Grogu was part of the picture and honestly, the kid loves him. His second vow after the riddurok was a gai bal manda for Grogu.” Mando says, helmet tilted towards Fett. It’s probably the armoured equivalent of a sappy look and Han resists the urge to scowl.

He doesn’t know what a riderock or a gabblemanda is but it’s clearly important to Mandalorians and Fett is smiling broadly at his husband. Ugh.

“Oh, that’s incredibly sweet. How did you two meet?” Leia asks and Han screams internally. “When I first Found Grogu, my tribe took on the Hunter’s Guild so we could escape. I was trying to find more Mandalorians and I came across an areuttise on Tatooine who had Boba’s armour. I helped him take down a krayt dragon that was attacking his village and in exchange, he returned the armour to a mando’ad. Boba tracked me to Tython and said he would help me protect Grogu if I gave him back his armour. We were attacked by Dark Troopers and they took Grogu for Moff Gideon. Boba helped me get Grogu back and once he’d taken over Tatooine, he joined our efforts to reclaim Mandalore.” Mando explains and Leia smiles.

“That sounds romantic. The first time I met Han I threatened him.” Leia says anecdotally and Han shoots her a betrayed look. Fett is so going to use that against him somehow, Han just knows it. Instead, Fett just shakes his head and explains further. “Both of us are sol’karta, ‘aromantic’ in Basic. The Mand’alor’s council were concerned about finding a Rid’alor and I was suggested. I accepted, as the Mand’alor is one of my closest friends. I love him dearly but we’re not in love with each other. We’re best friends raising an adorably mischievous ad’ika.” He says and the Mand’alor nods.

Huh. Han can’t say he’s ever heard of an arranged marriage where both parties are friends from the start. He’s sure that some spouses end up as friends but politically arranged marriages in the Core tend to be loveless affairs. He almost finds himself congratulating them on finding a good balance but then he remembers he would be congratulating Fett. Nope, he’s not doing that.

“Oh really? Luke did mention that Grogu has a habit of disappearing on him.” Leia says and Fett laughs. “Yeah, his Force osik enables him a lot. I never realised how much of parenting was going to be coaxing a grumpy toddler off of a ceiling.” He jokes and ugh, Han can relate to that and he’s mad about it. Leia says something in response but Han is too busy glaring at Fett to hear her. The bastard is still smirking, plus he’s not even paying attention to Han, like Han is beneath his notice.

“I know you two have a son, right? If you’re ever on Manda’yaim for diplomacy, perhaps they can hang out together. I know when I was a child, I hated being in boring meetings and Grogu would definitely appreciate a friend.” Fett suggests and Han nearly explodes. Boba Fett’s hellspawn child is not going to corrupt Ben!

“Oh, Ben and Grogu met earlier today actually! Luke is on-planet at the moment and he brought Grogu with him when he heard that your people would be here.” Leia says and Mando’s helmet tilts. It probably means something in Mando Armour Language but Han has no clue what. “Is Luke still on Chandrila?” He asks, seeming curious. “Grogu is due to come home to Manda’yaim next week but if Luke is here, then I might ask if we can bring him home now to save Luke the trip.”

Leia smiles and tells Mando where to find Luke. Mando says his goodbyes and leaves, but Fett stays. They seem to have some form of communicating that Han can’t understand because Fett doesn’t seem confused at all by his husband’s departure without him.

Fett rocks back on his heels before levelling Han with a smug grin. “If you ever feel like going into Fett Space, drop by my palace on Tatooine. I love getting visits from old friends.” He says before bowing to Leia and leaving to follow Mando before Han can splutter a rebuttal. Fett Space! Is he serious?

Apparently he is, as the New Republic receives a missive a few days later, announcing Mandalore’s official recognition of the former Hutt territories as under Boba Fett, their Consort’s, unequivocal rule. It means that if the Republic ever aggravates Mandalore, they would essentially be going to war with the majority of the Outer Rim between Fett’s planets, Mandalore’s vassal planets and the seemingly endless planets that have allied themselves with Mandalore instead of the Republic.

Han isn’t too concerned about the political ramifications, seeing as that’s Leia’s remit and he’s mostly retired, but fuck, he’s mad that he can’t even think about dropkicking Fett into a star without inciting a galaxy-wide conflict. And the bastard knows it. Every time he comes to Republic events as either the Mand’alor’s spouse or as the leader of Fett Space, he acts like the perfect model of decorum so Han can’t even argue that he was provoked.

Han is forty-three, he shouldn’t be having aneurysms but every time he sees Fett his brain stops getting the message. The worst part is that Leia has become friends with the Mandalorian king and Ben is fond of the green child, so Han is forced to interact with Fett on a far too regular basis. Forget Fett, Han is considering launching himself into a star.

Sadly, Leia won’t let him. So Han has to put up with Fett for just a while longer. Speaking of, how old is Fett? Can Han get away with measuring coffins yet? Please say the bastard is at least ninety, he was around during the Clone Wars, there can’t be much left in him. Please, Han is going to lose his mind if he has to play nice with Boba Fett again. And again. And again.

(systems away, Boba’s ears go hot and he knows that Solo is plotting his death once more. Grogu coos and Boba looks down to see the womprat chewing on his pendant again. He chuckles and grabs something softer for Grogu to gnaw at. He has more important things to think about than Solo.)

[just-jordie-things]

Hi could I please get a 53 and 3 for Sokka?

prompt 3: drunk/sloppy kiss prompt 53: against a wall kiss ___

In hindsight, going to a local pub with only Aang as your designated Appa flyer and voice of reason wasn’t a good idea.  Mostly because Aang was pretty relaxed when it came to being the sober one of the group, which meant that the amount of drinking you, Katara, and Sokka were doing went unchecked.

And so five shots later, you were chittering away in Aang’s ear, most of your words slurred and incomprehensible, and the ones that the Avatar could make sense of, still didn’t make any sense.

“Toads.  That’s all” You said when Aang had thrown you a confused look, causing you to repeat whatever strange thing you’d just said that he didn’t understand.

“Right...” The boy mumbled, brows furrowing as he turned to the person on his other side, who was laughing at his own jokes that no one had heard.  “Hey Sokka?”

The laughing boy made a loud humming sound to show he was listening, his slightly hooded eyes meeting Aang’s the way Toph’s would.

Sokka was looking at the arrow tattoo on Aang’s forehead rather than his eyes.

“Is (y/n) always this much of a lightweight?” Aang asked, worriedly.  “She’s only had two shots” 

Sokka burst into boisterous laughter that echoed around the entire pub- probably annoying the other patrons but since he was with the Avatar no one was going to complain- while (y/n) giggled into her hands.

“Nice job!” Sokka declared, reaching over Aang to high five his best friend.

“What? What’s happening?” Aang asked, his confusion only increasing with everything Sokka did.

“I had- like- I dunno, Sokka how much did I have?” (y/n) asked.

“I dunno, five? Six?” The boy shrugged his shoulders.

“(y/n)!” Aang scolded.  “You’re supposed to be telling me when you’re drinking, I’m supposed to be keeping tabs on you!” 

“Sokka had like seven!” (y/n) argued, and Aang swiveled around to deliver the same scolding on the boy.

“Sokka!” 

“(y/n)!” Sokka whined.

With the Avatar’s back turned, (y/n) quickly flagged down the bartender and threw back a sixth shot of whiskey.  Aang would have never noticed, had Sokka not tattled.

“She just took another one!” 

Aang spun around once more, just in time to see (y/n) setting the tiny empty glass back on the bar.

“(y/n)!” Aang shrieked.

This got the attention of Katara, who had been at a music box trying to find a good song.  She wasn’t nearly as drunk as her brother and friend, but she was still pretty buzzed.  Enough to start laughing along with them while Aang freaked out.

“I’m fine, it’s fine!” (y/n) said, putting her hands up to show her innocence.  “I can handle it” 

“Hey (y/n),” Sokka called, getting the girl’s undivided and drunken attention.  “I saw a toad over there” He said, pointing down the bar.

“Really?” 

(y/n) leapt off her stool in a second, her features brightening and her voice raising a couple octaves from excitement.

It was adorable, and worth it, but Sokka couldn’t contain his laughter.

Aang rolled his eyes.  Both of his friends were beyond saving.

Katara appeared next to him then, her smile a little lopsided as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry so much,” She says.  “This is just how they get” 

“I’m going to get some fresh air!” You declared, louder than you needed to, before walking as normally as you could- which was stumbling- out of the bar.

“She’s probably just gonna-”

“Yeah, she’s looking for toads” Sokka confirmed before Aang could finish his sentence.

Before Aang could ask him, the Water Tribe boy had already gotten out of his seat and followed her outside.

“See?” Katara said, motioning to the door Sokka had just slipped out of.  “They’ll be fine.  They look out for each other.  They’re in love you know” 

“I know” Aang sighed, remembering all too well what it was like to be around the angsty pair of friends during their travels.

But since the war had ended, Sokka and (y/n) didn’t get together like everyone thought they would.  Sure, there was the complication that they were best friends, and they were both too shy to make the first move or ruin their friendship, but everyone had thought that they would be together by now.

The longer neither of them made a move, the more their feelings began to swallow them whole.

“You good?”

You spun around from where you were balancing on the curb of the sidewalk, grinning from ear to ear as you saw Sokka there.

With surprising grace, you skipped up to him, not once tripping on the curb.  Sokka was impressed, because he definitely couldn’t keep his balance simply standing on the curb.

“Sokka!” You called for him with nothing short of delight, and as you reached him, your hands grabbed ahold of his shoulders.

He couldn’t tell if it was so you could balance yourself, or if it was just because you were more affectionate when you drank.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I need your help!” You tell him, eyes blowing wide. “With what?”

“With finding the toads,” You told him in all seriousness.  “I know that there has to be some around here, I just can’t find ‘em” 

He chuckles at your antics, but nods his head before following you along the sidewalk as you kept your eyes out.

“I feel bad” You say after a few minutes of teas searching.

“Sick bad?” Sokka asked, ready to take you to the nearest garbage bin if you were going to throw up.

“No,” You answer.  “Just bad-bad” 

“What about?”

“For lying to Aang and drinking too much,” You tell him, your lips tugging into a frown.  “Because now he’s worried and I didn’t wanna worry him, just wanted ta’ mess with him a lil’ bit” 

Your eyes are round and sad, and if Sokka didn’t know any better he’d have thought you were going to cry.  But you didn’t usually get the kind of drunk where you poured your emotions out and burst into tears.

You got the kind of drunk where you held on to him and didn’t shy away from looking him in the eyes.  You got the kind of drunk where you’d take him on a little mini adventure, like toad catching, while your friends were busy.

He started to realize that he really liked drinking with you, because it was the only time where it felt the way things used to.  The unspoken thing between you lingered, and it almost felt like you were more than just friends.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about it” Sokka said, patting your head for emphasis.

A blush crept over your cheeks as you giggled, any negative emotion you felt before disappearing at Sokka’s comforting voice.

As you smiled up at him, you caught something move out of the corner of your eye, and the almost intimate mood between you was gone as you whirled around.

“Toad!” You screeched, kneeling down to the ground and catching the creature in your hands with great swiftness.

Sokka had forgotten you were such a good hunter when you were younger, of course you would use your skills as a trained warrior to catch an animal friend in your drunken haze.

“He’s so big!” You said with delight, lifting the animal cupped in your hands up to your face.  “Hello” You whispered.

To Sokka’s surprise, the animal croaked back at you.  You didn't seem as surprised, but you were very much delighted at it’s return of your greeting.

But when you leaned in closer to the animal, Sokka intervened.

“What are you doing!?” He shrieked, reaching to take the toad from your hands.

“I was gonna give him a tiny kiss!” You said, and Sokka held back a gag.

“(y/n), no” 

“(y/n) yes!” 

However before you could go through with it, the little amphibian jumped from your hands, and was scurrying back along the street.

You frowned as the toad ran away, and you waved goodbye.

Sokka laughed, and took your hands to help you back up to your feet.

“Come on sweetheart, we walked too far, we should go back to the bar”

You didn’t say anything, but followed by his side.

“Can you believe it’s been two years?” You asked, referencing the war.  “I can’t believe it still” 

“We’ve been busier than ever, it flies by fast” Sokka agrees.

You hum, and you take hold of his hand as you continue walking.  

Sokka tries to act casual about it while you intertwine your fingers and swing your hands back and forth to an off-beat rhythm, but his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.

He thinks he might be having a stroke, but he can’t be too sure.

As you near the bar, you slow your pace, and stop just outside the doors.

“I don’t really feel like going back in there” You admit, biting down on your lip as you look up at Sokka.

He seems taller right now, you think.

“I don’t think I’ve grown since the last time I saw you” Sokka says, and your face turns pink at the realization you’d just said that out loud, and not in your head.

He doesn't question your weird comment, probably because he’s had just as much- if not more- to drink as you.

“Do you want to go home?” Sokka asks, but you shake your head.

“No, I just don’t feel like being around a crowd of people right now,” You huff, and let go of his hand to wander closer to the bar.

He thinks you’re going to go inside anyways, but you stop at the brick wall, and lean back against it.

For a few seconds, you rest your eyes, and embrace the cool roughness of the bricks against your back.

“I just wanna hang out with you a lil’ longer” You say, softly.

His heart melts as he smiles back at you, and nods as he comes to stand by your side.

“Fine by me,” He answers, bringing a smile to your own lips.

He loves the way that you smile when you’re drunk, because it always reaches your eyes and makes them shine.  He knows you’re never faking it.

“You’re my favorite company” He says in a cheesy way, and you giggle, but do him one better.

“You’re my favorite person” You respond, sounding far more sincere than his joking tone, and Sokka blinks as he looks at you.

He knows you mean it, because you’re still smiling at him, and you didn’t duck your head and laugh it off after you said.  He also knows you mean it because history had proven it to be true.

You’d known each other for years, you became best friends within a day of your meeting, hell, you followed him around the world because you had more fun with him and the Avatar one a couple days than you had in your Earth Kingdom city all your life.

As you thought about it now- how you left home for a boy when it came down to it- you knew in your heart you made the right decision.  Had you not gone with him that day he and your friends had fled from the Fire Nation, you would have regretted it your whole life.

Maybe you were just a little too drunk and overthinking it all, but your life had gained purpose that day.

It had been quiet since you’d murmured the simple little statement, and with every passing second Sokka swore his heart beat louder.  Soon he knew you’d be able to hear it.

And then it just clicked.

Something in him told him that if he didn’t kiss you now, he might never have the courage or the right moment to again.  And right now, everything seemed to just fall into place.

It helped that when he leaned down towards you, you were quick to reciprocate, all but jumping to the tips of your toes to reach him.

Your lips slotted over his with ease, although it was rushed and a little sloppy, it couldn’t have been a more perfect first kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you pulled him in front of you as you kissed him fervently, trying to make up for the years you spent waiting for him to kiss you.

His hands were everywhere, he didn’t know where to hold you, he just wanted to touch you, to have you in his arms, just to say I took her and I kissed her.

The flew to your hair, tangling in the soft strands that had fallen from your ponytail, before sliding around to cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones and your jaw, tracing and mapping out your face until he was certain he had it committed to memory.  And then they reached down to your hips, grabbing roughly as he brought you impossibly closer to his chest.

He could fell your lips quirk into a smile as you were pressed back against the wall.  Your senses were absolutely flooded by him, and it was more intoxicating than all the liquor you’d both had.

Even after a few minutes of your uncoordinated impromptu drunken make out section, it was still too soon when you parted, breathless, enamored, and a little giggly.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, hands traveling from his neck to his jaw, just to be sure that he wouldn’t move so far that you couldn’t get a good look at him in all of his glowing glory.

“You’re so pretty,” You murmur, your shoulders lowering as you let out a sigh of adoration.  “I’m so in love with you” You add, as if it were as plain and simple as an after thought that ran across your mind. 

Sokka lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, and his arms circle around your waist.

“I think I’m supposed to say that” He says, making you giggle some more, before pulling him back down to you so you can place your lips back on his where they belong.

Not too long after, Aang and Katara come outside to check on you, and the sound of their jaws hitting the ground pulls you from each other, and reminds you that you aren’t in fact the only two people in the world. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 39)

This part was typed mostly on mobile. Sorry for any typos.

She remembers the first time she had seen snow. The feeling...it was bizarre. If she were to be completely honest, she would best compare it to the sensation of her worst days--the days when her mind is slipping and everything feels off and nothing feels real. But instead of fear, she feels awe. Instead of dread, she feels an almost childlike sense of delight.

And perhaps, in some sense, she is a child again; she has something new to discover. Something curious and strange.

"Hajime,look." She points out the window. "It's everywhere." And perhaps it is a silly thing to ask but she inquires anyhow, "how do we walk through it?"

"Like you walk anywhere else?" He quirks a brow.

"But in the Water Tribes...I've heard that there is special equipment used to navigate the snow."

He laughs, "the snow isn't that deep here!" He opens the door and gestures for her to exit.

"It's cold." She complains. Even under her winter wools, she finds herself shivering. And here Atsu goes, dashing out into the winter with no coat at all.

"Git back in here!" Hajime calls. "I tol' you last year 'bout going outside without a coat!"

Atsu comes to a halt, the magic of the morning coming to an abrupt pause with him. " But dad!"

"You need to help Rikka get dressed, she never had to wear a winter clothes before."

This seems to allure the boy and with a wide and gleeful grin he darts back into the house. "Hurry up and put your coat and gloves on, Rikka! We have to build snow people and throw balls of snow at each other and…" he chucks a coat and a pair of gloves at her--Hajime's she assumes based upon the size of them.

Azula stuffs her fingers into the gloves. Only one layer doesn't seem sufficient but another layer or two seems to aggravatingly restrict her finger movements and if she is going to destroy Hajime and Atsu at this snowball war, she is going to need a full range of movement from her fingers.

She steps out into the snow, she hears it sift beneath her weight. So far everything is going accordingly, there is no ice to land her on the ground.she deduces that, in most places, the snow only reaches up to her ankles which is, though an inconvenience, manageable enough. But she can't imagine that running from enemy fire will be as easy. She supposes that if she needs a speedy getaway she can just melt some of the snow and listen to Atsu screech about her cheating. Perhaps she would feel more guilty over it if Atsu weren't a merciless little brute. He does not wait for her to assemble her protective mound of snow before bombarding her with an onslaught of tightly packed snow.

"Gotcha!" He whoops with each hit that she fails to evade. It would seem that while she was assessing her surroundings he hand been stockpiling an extensive artillery.

"Geez, Atsu, show mercy, this is her first snowball fight." Hajime chuckles from his spot on the porch.

It is a nice thought but Atsu, the feral beast, knows nothing of mercy. He tosses snowball after snowball. She manages to create only one but before she can throw it, Atsu fires another shot. And this one sails directly down the front of her shirt. She feels it slide from her chest to her belly leaving her with a full body shudder as itself away. She had dropped her snowball. Never in her life has she felt anything quite like it; uncomfortable and somewhat biting but I'm a way that wasn't exactly painful.

She tosses a pathetically pleading glance to Hajime who throws his head back in a howling laugh. "Alright, alright." He gets to his feet and steps out into the battlefield.

"Uh oh…" Atsu mumbles, he is now we'll aware that he should have built himself a snow fortress. Azula gives him a smug smile as she lifts a new snowball.

"Uh oh." He repeats as her very second snowball sails right into his face.

Maybe she should feel guilty over it but he isn't crying and he brushes it right off. And besides, she is certain that he was aiming for her face the whole time anyways, he simply didn't have the arm strength to land any hits higher than chest level.

And by the end of the hour she is almost embarrassed by how satisfied she feels to have beaten a child at a children's game. Any tickles of shame are washed away by Atsus delightful giggles. His enthusiastic, "wait until Caihong and Kim get here! We'll kick yer butts until you don't have butts no more!"

People have bestowed upon her many threats. But none have been quite like that.

That day she learns that Atsu is very much a little shit and that, likely, she will never truly shake her competitive nature.

.oOo.

She has been to plenty of awkward dinners but the silence of this one is so thick that it is dizzying. She can’t help but notice the way that Sokka twiddles his thumbs and looks in every direction but his father’s and Katara’s. It occurs to her that he is ashamed of her. Is embarrassed to be seen with her. She supposes that it is a good thing that the snow storm has picked up too strongly to go for a stroll through the village. She can only imagine what sort of looks she will get from everyone else. A firebender...the princess among people who the Fire Nation has displaced and nearly destroyed. She is everything that they detest and she supposes that Sokka has every right to be embarrassed by that. Embarrassed in the same way that she had been to parade him around the Fire Nation at first.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, dad?”

The man gives something between a hum and a sigh, “I’m trying to figure out what to say.” Hakoda looks at her. His face isn’t as steely with stubbornness as Katara’s.

Azula stares at her palms. She should take her mittens off. But any little motion will draw too much attention. Not that Katara's resentful gaze has left her since she got to the table. She wants to have a taste of her seaweed stew but she is already mildly nauseous with nervousness and the scent of the stew doesn't exactly kindle her appetite.

"Just talk to her for a bit, dad, you'll like her." Sokka promises.

The flutters in her tummy intensify that much more. She wishes that he wouldn't make promises that even he isn't certain of.

"She likes history and strategizing just like you do and…"

"And she used it to foil our invasion and get him sent to the Boiling Rock." Katara folds her arms across her chest.

Azula cringes to herself, truth be told, she had forgotten about that. Comparatively speaking, it seemed much less profound than some of her other misdeeds.

"Yeah well she's done a lot of changing since then." Sokka insists. “See, she even has the redemption haircut!”

“The what?” Azula finally speaks up.

“Yeah, Zuko said he cut his hair before joining us and now look at him, he’s happy--but in a grumpy old man sort of way, he’s a good friend, and he’s got long flowing tresses.”

Azula rolls her eyes. She isn’t sure if she wants to slug the man to death right in front of his father and sister or if she finds his recant amusing. She supposes that it would ruin her chances to make amends of she murdered Sokka now. “It wasn’t a redemption haircut I had matted hair and, maybe, lice.” Ji-Zhang had only mentioned it being matted. She supposes if she had lice that they would have shaved…

“Azula.” Sokka manages to cut through her comfort musings. Granted her musings weren’t at all pleasant but her inner monologue very much beats the external alternative.

She realizes that Hakoda has extended his hand. It is far less formal than a bow but she will take what she can get. He gives her hand a shake. “I’m Hakoda.”

“Sokka told me that, already. And he has already told you my name.”

Sokka flushes, “you’re supposed to introduce yourselves to each other.” And then he turns to his father, “she’s still working on the whole having a normal conversation thing. It runs in the family.”

“I can have a normal conversation just fine.” She folds her arms and holds her head high.

“Well it’s...interesting to formally meet you, Azula.”

“Dad!” Katara says sharply. “She’s not a part of this family. I don’t care how much Sokka likes her.”

“Come on Katara.”

“Don’t ‘come on Katara’ me! You’re the one trying to welcome her into the Water Tribe.”

“I get it, this is for the whole Jet thing isn’t it.”

This time Katara blushes.

“Who is Jet?” Azula furrows her brows.

“Yes, who is Jet?” Hakoda agrees.

“You don’t know about Jet?” Sokka asks at the same time as Katara says, “you weren’t supposed to tell him about Jet!”

“Jet’s just some jerk that flooded a whole village full of kids. To drive out some Fire Nation soldiers.”

“Gaipan?”

“Yeah.” Sokka nods. “You know about that.”

Azula returns the nod. “We lost a few soldiers there. There were noble men and women.” She pauses. “Stubborn too. They might have been alright if they fled with the rest of the village but…”

“Firebenders and their pride.” Hakoda clicks his tongue.

She wants to call the man on his generalization but frankly she hasn’t met a firebender yet who didn’t value pride. And maybe that is why it is so hard for her to apologize to Katara and Hakoda. Though she isn’t certain that she particularly needs to apologize to Hakoda--he had led an invasion to defeat her father. He had encroached on her land. It was her duty to see those plans foiled. Though pointing that out probably won’t serve her too well.

“Can you give her a chance, Katara? I gave Jet a chance.”

“No you didn’t. You were protesting and whining the whole time.”

“And I ended up being right.”

“So will I.” With those three words, she storms out into the snow.

“That went flawlessly.” Azula grumbles.

“Just give her some time, she’ll come around when she realizes that you’re actually kind of a really sweet person.”

“I will set everything you love on fire…”

“You just like to pretend that you aren’t.” And to Hakoda he mutters, “It’s part of the firebender pride thing. You can’t let anyone know that you’re nice.” He slings an arm over her shoulder and pulls her in closer.

Azula sighs, it is going to be a long, long vacation or whatever in the spirits’ name she could call this.

[sayonaramidnight]

Not much time passed since their joint exploration of Tam-Tara Deepcroft, but to Arianna it felt like eternity. And like a moment, at the same time. Too long. Too short. Perhaps time was playing tricks on her, or perhaps it was all in her head.

Watching her sister make miracles with that grimoire of hers was indeed astonishing - through her time away from Eorzea, Seawalker had turned into an actual adventurer who could predict her opponents' moves and always be one step ahead of them. Good for her, sure. But everything that had happened later... Arianna only heard stories. Rumours about the Lord of the Inferno risen from the flames to answer the prayers of his worshippers. She had not been there, not seen the woman called Helvi Seawalker slay the alleged god of Amal'jaa, so when they had reunited, all she could do was look closely at the new godslayer in search for any proof. Any sign. Any change.

She had found no such thing.

Except... When asked about adventuring, Seawalker had given her a confused look. "There are more than one way to make people's lives better," she'd said, "Why should I stick to one, if I can do more?"

On what 'more' was, she had not elaborated.

-

Today, though, was almost like old times. The two spent a lovely morning at the household of Swiftfingers' parents, exchanging gossip over the plate of almond cream delicious croissants - albeit Master Zezemuchi's tale about Arianna's involvement with the Sunsilk Tapestries might have been a tad embellished. And even though the third sister wasn't there anymore, in a way she still was - in spirit and fond memories - so the Thanalan Tinies could reunite one more time...

And somewhere along the way from the Steps of Nald to the Sapphire Avenue, it got so easy to believe Seawalker had never left. She stormed the market, ransacking the jewellery and metallurgy stalls for high quality materials and chatting with the merchants about the craftwork she had seen overseas. It was fun - and relieving - to see her that happy and giddy about her old trade.

It was no fun, though, to see her go completely broke.

"You know, it wouldn't do you any harm if you haggled a little," Arianna shook her head, "Those people ain't dependent solely on you and won't get famished if you don't overpay them".

But the Roegadyn didn't take her words to heart, deeply convinced the merchants of Ul'dah deserve all her gil. She approached Arianna with a wide grin and a different earring in each hand. "Truly, you are an Immortal Flame," she said fondly, "Bright. Undying. We need to think of a fine set of jewellery that would fit your uniform".

"We need, you say as if you're going to consider my opinion," the Duskwight snorted, "Good to see you back in your element, though. Now that you've rejoined the Goldsmiths' Guild, are you planning to stay in Ul'dah? Or go back to Mist, so your aunt can keep her eyes on you?"

"Neither my aunt, nor the glorious sea can keep me far from my Rinoire and the memories of Zezelyn," her sister laughed and spread her arms, as if she wanted to embrace the whole city, "Not that I haven't got any other options since the Grand Companies invited me to join them, so if I ever change my mind, I-"

Right. That was the other thing Arianna heard about recently. Not a rumour, but a true story confirmed by General Aldynn himself. If it wasn't for the reverence she had for him, he would have been given a piece of her mind and not in a kind way.

"Bloody hells, Seawalker, don't tell me you're considering it. You're no soldier." There was no ill will in these words, just the truth - not because she lacked the required skills, but because she did things in her own pace, which did not go well with taking orders. Not to mention her calling was making things, rather than killing people.

"I know, I know. Which is why I kindly told them to sod off".

"No, you didn't".

"No, I didn't. I gave them my thanks and expressed my concern it would spread discord between them," Seawalker kept smiling playfully, as she continued investigating the jewels and metals in a truly scientific manner.

"Nice try, but they ain't gonna stop asking," Arianna followed her, still concerned, "Unless the Scions claim exclusive rights for you".

"They haven't yet, but it is another good reason to stay in Ul'dah. In case they're in need of me, I won't be far".

"In need of you to do what?" the lancer clenched her fists, ready to defend her sister from the selfsame people who had sent her after Ifrit, "Craft a set of rings or slay another god?"

"Gods cannot be slain so easily. Not for good," the Roegadyn shrugged, giving a vibe of someone who knows everything about the topic, "And we- they suspect that other beast tribes might follow, that someone's been steering them from the shadow-"

"Rhalgr take them and all their suspicions," Arianna could not help but growl, already fed up with this conversation and unable to argue with that consummate do-gooder, "Why did it have to be you?!"

"And why did you stand at Carteneau?"

One question, one simple question made Arianna stifle a gasp. "That wasn't- That-" she stumbled and gritted her teeth. That was just another war, she was meaning to say, with no supernatural factors involved. But she could not utter a lie. There was Dalamud, after all. There was that bloody primal dragon.

Still, she could not contain a surge of anger. Who were they - those Scions or Archons, or whatever they called themselves - to bug her sister about problems too big for her and order her around? What if they were the ones who would turn her into a soldier? And right after her return to Eorzea, before she could even settle down?

"The thing is, I had a choice," she said finally and that was it, that was the whole point of her concern, "Did you?"

"How could I choose to turn my back on them?" the Roegadyn cried out, her voice both sad and irritated. Perhaps mostly sad. "Rinoire, you should see what a primal can do to people - not only to their worshippers, but to anyone around. Those people are... changed. Their minds, twisted forever... There's no way to reverse it, but there's a way to resist it I'm capable of".

"And you ain't the only one, right? Are they looking for more 'venturers with the sixth sense like yours? Or will they just- I don't know, turn you into a one-woman army and say that's enough?!"

The look Seawalker gave her was rueful but determined. The look of someone who cannot stand being useless and tries desperately to change it. As if she didn't know how much good she can to for the world without throwing herself into fight.

She leaned to whisper into Arianna's ear. "Let me tell you a secret," her voice was soft and gentle, easy to soothe anyone's anger. Perhaps even tame a primal.

But it could not fool Flame Sergeant Noirterel, who knew that precious, incorrigible woman all too well. "Oh yeah? Shoot".

"The stall behind you has some fine Nagxian silk".

"WHAT?!" Every concerned thought vanished from the Duskwight's head in an instant, when she turned around and rushed up to the stall in question, to get all the silk she could afford at the moment. On behalf of the Weavers' Guild, obviously; she would not buy any fabrics without showing them the bill.

-

"That- that wasn't fair," she said after what felt like a year, glaring at one overjoyed goldsmith, who was carrying two large bags of some suspicious stuff that might have been meant for crafting. She laughed triumphantly and said nothing.

"What are all those materials for? Got that many commissions already?" Arianna asked, intent on giving up on the previous conversation. That was not a topic for a shopping day, not when it could be deflected and forgotten way too easily.

"No, no, don't worry, no one's commissioned me yet," Seawalker said absent-mindedly, "With these, I'm going to craft fine gifts. A magic staff, maybe. A set of knuckles. Goggles that don't cover half of one's pretty face," she went on, completely preoccupied, "Perhaps a gemmed paperweight for Minfilia..."

Ah, those people again. Lovely. Perhaps she did not get along with them as well as she tried to show, if she wanted to bribe them with gifts.

"Finding the right design for Y'shtola is going to be the hardest task," she heaved a somewhat exaggerated sigh, "Something that complements her beauty and doesn't look too showy..."

Arianna sighed too, utterly defeated. "Just pick whatever and set it in a ring. It won't distract you from her face if it's on her finger."

"So it would seem like a bonding proposal? Perish the thought, I would not dare!" Seawalker shook her head, rocking back and forth on heels, "But you, dear sister! Jewellery for you will be no problem, as soon as I get the perfect gemstones I've got in mind!"

"If you say pink tourmalines, I swear I'll-"

"What? Why would I?" this time Seawalker seemed genuinely confused, "I was thinking star sapphires or maybe diamonds."

"The less expensive one. Or else you'll be broke in no time."

The Roegadyn pouted, clearly discontented with the companionship of an ignoramus who does not understand true art. However, her mood changed in a blink, when a new thought popped into her scattered mind.

"It sure would be nice to find some eyes of lightning, though," she flashed an impish grin, "They look almost pink in the right light, so if you wish-"

"No!"

[popsunner]

'Cause I Was Just Thirteen (when I got my first taste of danger)

@cubedleo​ this isn’t what you’ve been waiting for but it’s somethin’ sjdjb

A/N: I was trying to write the Spirit Sokka AU but my brain wouldn’t let me until I finished this,,, so. AO3 link!! 

Summary: 

“We’re just kids.”

“Are we?” Sokka asks, and the silence stretches between them.

(The answer is yes, but it’s easier to pretend they grew up a long time ago than admit they’re just broken children trying to fix a broken world)

When Sokka was twelve years old he carved a promise to be a warrior into a block of ice.

It took him an hour to chop out the crude symbols with the tip of his boomerang, and when he was done he was sweating, and his arm ached. War was in his blood, it was his main drive, his life.

He never understood the people who didn’t want to fight.

(Later in his life, he would meet a boy with a scarred face and a girl with dangerous eyes, and he’d know that in a different life, that could’ve been him and his sister)

(The desire to fight would all but fizzle out at that realization)  

There are few people left in the world who weren’t raised for war.

Bumi is one of them, and so is Aang. Sokka can see it in the way they speak, the way they move. The way they don’t shy away from fire or loud adventures that draw attention. He can see it in their smiles, wide and fearless and kind.

Bumi and Aang weren’t born into a world of destruction and stifling fear.

(Maybe that’s why Aang looks so much more hurt by the charred forests and waves of injured troops finally coming home)

(Sokka hurts too, but he’s tired)

(He’s so tired)

When the war ends, Sokka breathes for the first time in his life.

It’s like a wave of exhaustion hits him all at once, and if Suki hadn’t been supporting him and his broken leg, he would have crashed to the ground.

“We won,” Katara whispers.

No one cheers. No one smiles.

Slowly, Zuko stands, Katara’s hand hovers next to his hip and the second scar his family gave him. He holds a hand out to Aang, his face stone.

Aang doesn’t shake his hand or nod back grimly. He launches himself at Zuko and laughs with so much relief in his voice it reminds Sokka just how young he is.

(Aang wasn’t raised for war, but he was shoved into the middle with no warning, and expected to fix it)

Zuko shudders and stumbles, and Katara catches him and Aang before they all fall.

Sokka watches her, his baby sister, and realizes she’s been catching people her entire life. His eyes go blurry, and he staggers out of Suki’s grip to grab her shoulders and crush her against his chest.

“You made it,” he says into her hair.

Katara starts to cry.

Sokka isn’t sure how long they stand there after Toph burrows her way between them all and Suki wraps her arms as far as they can reach over the group, but it’s long enough for his leg to scream painfully in protest, and the weight on his chest to return.

Because it isn’t over yet.

Sokka looks down at his friends- his family , and realizes with a shaking breath that the war might be over, but the fight is far from done.

***

Getting used to a post-war world is more difficult than Sokka could have imagined.

For Toph, it’s not very hard. She was raised sheltered, and even despite her attempts to shun that lifestyle, she was never exposed to the loss of war or the scar it left.

Sokka is proud of Aang and Katara, who despite everything, held onto their wonder and inner light.

(the nights he spent pouring over strategies and plotting routes, burying evidence of scorch marks from around their campsite, the days he spent cracking jokes and letting them take out their frustrations on him through light hearted teasing paid off, and he’s so, so proud)

Suki was always an optimist, and Sokka is grateful for her every day, especially at night when he feels the guilt and fear grip his heart and threaten to undo him.

(She holds him and they whisper uncertainties and reassurances to each other until the sun rises)

Sometimes, though, Sokka just wants someone who understands what it’s like to live with what feels like the weight of his people on his shoulders, who knows what it means to grow up training every day for a fight he never asked for.

He finds himself sitting with Zuko more and more often after the war is over.

“Do you think they can ever really forget?” Zuko asks, watching a group of kids fly kites in the courtyard a ways away from where they sit.

“Them?” Sokka shrugs. “Yeah, they’ll forget. They’re just kids.”

Zuko’s eyebrows lower into something sad. “We’re just kids.”

“Are we?” Sokka asks, and the silence stretches between them

(The answer is yes, but it’s easier to pretend they grew up a long time ago than admit they’re just broken children trying to fix a broken world)

***

Hakoda is by no means old, even though his eyes crinkles at the corners and his hair is lined with wisps of white from years of stress, but war takes its toll on everyone, and the warrior has seen too many battles.

He walks with a permanent limp now, and when he asks Sokka to succeed him as chief of the Southern Water Tribe, he favors his right leg.

Sokka is eighteen, the same age his father was when he took charge, technically a full fledged adult now. But the sag in Sokka’s shoulders and the numbness in his eyes didn’t appear on his father until Kya died. His father grew up in a war just like he did, but he didn’t fight in it until Sokka was twelve.

There’s guilt in Hakoda’s eyes, so Sokka doesn’t stop himself from grinning and accepting happily, erasing any sign of the aching exhaustion off his face.

“Is this really what you want?” Katara asks him later, staring into the fire that crackles quietly between them.

Sokka wants to ask her if she’s ever asked Aang that, or Zuko. He wants to tell her he doesn’t have a choice, none of them ever had a choice.

Instead, he smiles. “Well, yeah! I was getting tired of Zuko being the only royal one.”

He can see it in Katara’s face, that she doesn’t believe him.

(But the war is over, the war is over so she lets him lie, the war is over and the worry lines on her forehead are slowly going away)

(Sokka knows now, more than ever, that the war isn’t really over)

(He lets her believe it is)

***

Sokka is at another meeting, another day long discussion of how to achieve peace when the sight of fire and red emblems still scares children, when all that conceals Ozai’s fallen statue in Omashu is a large, green canopy, when Sokka’s people are still scavenging for any food they can find, when Aang is still the only Air Nomad left.

Sokka forces himself to sit straight instead of prop his head on his hand and roll his eyes at Aang as the Earth Nation ambassador goes on and on.

Usually, Toph would be here to cut in with some crude one liner to break up the tension, and Katara would take notes for him when his mind wandered. Usually Suki would squeeze his hand under the table to keep him present.

But this is a closed meeting, as stupid as that is, and only recognised officials are allowed inside.

Zuko sits next to him, hands folded on the table, the epitome of royalty. Even Aang, who’d gotten such a sugar rush from his fourteenth birthday the day before that he tried to teach Momo to swordfight, sits stoically and nods along to the speech that’s been going on for an hour.

“-focusing our rebuilding efforts at this time on Ba Sing Se would be our smartest move,” the ambassador finally finishes.

Sokka raises an eyebrow. “Rebuilding what part?”

“Excuse me?”

“In your entire drawl you didn’t mention the outer rings of Ba Sing Se once. Do you really think we should spend more time and money on a rich inner ring that thrives off the other citizens' poverty?”

Aang looks surprised, like he’s trying to walk back through the meeting to figure out why he missed that. Zuko nods. “I spent time in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se personally, ambassador. I agree that you should be putting your main focus on the people there.”

If the ambassador were a firebender, he’d be blowing smoke out of his ears. “All due respect Fire Lord, but you’d really take the side of a chief of the most desolate land in the world over mine? A non-bender no less?”

Sokka’s wolf tail flips over his head as a rush of hot hair whips past him, from the Fire Lord and Avatar respectively. Aang is standing, his staff in his hand, and Zuko’s hands are clenched, his eyes flashing a warning.

Sokka holds up a hand, and Aang sits down, Zuko relaxes slightly.

(Because he might not be able to do the things they can, he might not have their power, but he does have their respect)

“You forget, ambassador,” Sokka says coolly, “that your king himself is a non-bender, and a personal friend.”

The underlying threat is understood loud and clear, and the ambassador sits down.

The discussion goes on, and Sokka has the taste of bile in his throat for the rest of the meeting.

It isn’t the first time he’s been disliked, like not being able to bend somehow makes him unfit. He sees the looks people give him when he walks alongside Aang on the street instead of behind him, when he tousles the great Toph Beifong’s hair or spars with the Fire Lord, when he teases his sister in public.

It isn’t the first time he’s been disliked for being a non-bender, but it’s the first time someone has said it to his face, in front of his allies. It’s the first time he’s heard the disdain voiced, and the ambassadors words cut sharp like a wip.

(The bile returns later, when he realizes his mind changed the title ‘family’ to ‘ally’)

***

The first thing Sokka does as the official Chief of the South is make plans for a memorial to commemorate the men lost in the fight, and the waterbenders lost in Ozai’s attempts to make sure that his grandfather's plan worked, that the Avatar wouldn’t survive.

(Sokka and Zuko find the place where the waterbenders were held a few weeks later, an entire underground fortress of cages)

(Every cage is full except one, there are no survivors)

(Sokka stares at Hama’s empty cage and forgives her)

It’s Katara’s idea to make the old Fire Nation warship part of the memorial, and with Toph’s help, the two of them build a statue that intertwines with the tarnished red flags and snow beaten metal. It means remembrance and hope.

Sokka’s tears freeze on his flushed cheeks when it’s finished.

“You know,” he tells Zuko the first time the Fire Lord sees it, “that ship isn’t all bad memories. It’s the reason we met.”

Zuko scoffs. “I thought that was a bad memory?”

“Funny how things can grow, isn’t it?”

Zuko has never looked more thankful than in that moment, and that night, sleepily sipping wine while Toph snores in his lap with her feet propped against Suki, watching Aang and Katara dance around the fire, he tells him so.

Sokka smiles, and looks around at his family. It seems like a lifetime ago when all he had was gran gran and Katara.

(Funny, how things can grow)

***

Rebuilding the South is… not easy.

Even with the men home from war, the South’s trade systems and outreach to the other nations had been completely demolished in the war.

The North, despite all its talk about rebuilding its sister tribe, does very little in the way of help.

The Northerners who moved with Sokka’s grandfather are angry, and a group of them plan to sail back to the North to convince them to bring aid.

Sokka lets them, and the day after they leave a blizzard hits the South.

Only four of the seven return.

(After the funerals, Sokka stands on the wall of ice surrounding their village and begs the moon for an explanation until his throat is sore and his voice is hoarse and raspy)

(She never answers)

***

Aang shows up one day, bouncing on his toes and grinning so brightly it hurts Sokka’s eyes, and tells him they’re taking a vacation.

Sokka has things to do, responsibilities and work that he can’t just blow (ha) off, and he just about says so when Appa roars, and Sokka remembers a time when he didn’t have to be chief or have the weight of his entire tribe on his shoulders.

(Somehow, the weight of the world felt lighter than this)

(Maybe because he grew up carrying it, or maybe because he never did, he only ever carried his friends)

Hakoda agrees easily to take over the Chief’s duties for the time being, and Sokka sees relief in his eyes when Sokka picks Aang up in a hug, and the two run off to the flying bison waiting for them.

Sokka sits in the saddle and stares at the back of Aang’s head, and tries to remember what it felt like when this was his life.

“Aang? Do you ever… miss when it was just us?”

The way Aang’s shoulders slump tells Sokka everything, and the younger boy nods. “Sometimes.”

(Sokka climbs up next to Aang and wraps his arms around his shoulders, and takes the reins when Aang turns to bury himself in Sokka’s shirt, because being Chief is hard, but being the Avatar is infinitely harder)

They meet at the Western Air Temple, because that was the first time they were all together.

Usually, there would be workers milling about, restoring all they can, but Aang got them to take the day off.

Katara hugs them both when they arrive. She cups Sokka’s face with her hands and squints at him like she knows he’s hiding something, and it takes all Sokka has not to crumble.

“Move aside!” Toph shouts, not giving Katara a chance to listen before she slides the stone under her out of the way. Toph punches Sokka’s arm hard, enough to make him wince, and then she drags both him and Aang into a bone crushing hug that they barely get out of alive.

Zuko laughs at them both, which is a welcome sound. Sokka only ever heard him laugh a few times during the war, and even fewer when they were all still navigating the new world. He steps forward and bows to Sokka, “Chief.”

Sokka doubles his dramatics when he bows back, “Fire Lord.”

Zuko snorts and stands. He pulls Aang into a side hug, and grips Sokka’s forearm. “It’s been too long.”

“The South Pole isn’t exactly a short walk away from the Fire Nation.”

“No,” Zuko smiles. “I guess I’ll have to plan more diplomatic meetings.”

Sokka groans.

Suki is a lot gentler in her hello, kissing Aang’s cheek and squeezing his shoulder, then wrapping herself around Sokka where she’ll stay for the better part of their meetup.

“Look at us,” she says, and she’s beautiful. “We’ve all changed so much.”

(Sokka hates how as the others smile, his stomach churns)

***

The anniversary of the end of the Hundred Year War is filled with celebrations, the steps of Zuko’s palace are transformed into a festival, a symbol of the Fire Nation opening its gates with kindness for the first time in a century.

Important people from every nation attend, and Zuko works with the Earth Kingdom to pay travel costs for as many citizens as possible, especially children.

Sokka has never seen so much food.

His stomach growls and his mouth waters, and Katara laughs at him when he’s led off to be formally introduced instead of being allowed to eat until he bursts.

Katara falls into step next to him, and Sokka takes a few seconds to take in how amazing she looks.

Her travels with Aang aren’t rushed or secret anymore, her eyes are brighter than he ever remembers seeing them, and she wears the Air Nomad cuffs Aang gave to her on her last birthday, a green headband holds her hair in place, and Sokka recognizes it as Toph’s. She kept the light-weight red shoes from their time hiding in the Fire Nation, and her blue dress has been altered to handle the hot climate most of the world shares right now.

Sokka thinks she’s the only one who could pull off wearing an outfit that includes all four nations, and he thinks she looks happy.

“I love you, you know,” He tells her, because he hasn’t seen her in months, because he missed her.

(He won’t admit it, but Sokka is still getting used to not having his sister at his side. His whole life, she’s been there. There’s something missing in him when she’s not)

Katara looks surprised for a moment, and then she smiles, and slips under Sokka’s arm, leaning against his side. “I love you too.”

Eventually, Sokka gets to eat, and relax, even if it’s only for a moment.

He watches Aang and Toph laugh at something Momo is doing as he devours a leg of meat he can’t name, and the sound of people enjoying themselves fills his ears.

Sokka had spent so much time staring at plans and treaties, organizing trades, building houses in the South, teaching people to fish and wash fur, that he hadn’t stopped once to look around him.

He’d spent so much time trying to heal the world, he never realized it was working.

(He loses his appetite then, but he still dances with Toph until his feet hurt, and he still tries to play Airball with Aang again, and he still smiles, and he still laughs)

(Because maybe he spent so much time trying to heal the world, that he hadn’t realized he was healing himself too)

***

People have tried to assassinate Zuko before. Sokka gets a letter from Toph (from Iroh, really, but they all pretend he’s not the one she dictates to) explaining a failed attempt in great detail at least once a month.

Toph finds it hilarious, but that’s because she’s there to take down the guy before they even make it into the palace.

Sokka finds it terrifying, because he’s halfway across the world with no way of helping.

It’s one of those sunny days that makes Sokka glad to be in the Fire Nation, and he’s sparring with Zuko, and for once, he might be winning.

Zuko’s dual swords clash against his singular one, and the two grunt as they both try to gain the upper hand. Sokka smirks and sweeps his foot out, tripping Zuko and knocking him onto his back. “Ha! I win!”

He reaches out to help Zuko up, fully intent on bragging for the rest of the day.

“Zuko move!” Toph shouts suddenly, and it scares Sokka so bad his instincts kick in, and he drags Zuko back to the ground, rolling away as a spike of ice longer than his wingspan flies through the air right where his head used to be.

Zuko breathes heavily under him, and Sokka slowly lifts himself off the ground, staying crouched as he scans the area.

Toph is on her feet, Katara at her side with a hand on her shoulder, and Aang is rushing forward, pulling Zuko to stand.

“Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t you, Katara, right?” Sokka asks, pulling his boomerang off his hip stealthily.

“What? No!”

“Didn’t think so,” Sokka says under his breath, and whips around to throw his boomerang towards Zuko and Aang.

Aang yelps and ducks behind Zuko, and there’s the sound of metal hitting something soft, and a loud ‘oof’.

Sokka barely has time to move before a wave of water forms a tiny tsunami in his direction. “Zuko, you need to get inside!”

People had tried to assassinate Zuko before, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for the assassin to be from a different nation, though most of them were firebenders, loyal to Ozai.

Sokka realizes too late that this one being a waterbender is no coincidence.

His legs are swept out from under him and he hits the ground with a grunt. He’d slipped on ice like an amatuer. Sokka pushes himself up, reaching for his sword, and is met face to face with the assassin.

His eyes widen. “Nia?”

She snarls at him and yanks him into a choke hold, Sokka watches as his friends circle her.

“Let him go,” Zuko says, and it's only because Sokka knows him that he hears the tremor in his voice. “This is about me and you.”

“You think I’m here for the Fire Lord?” Nia spits, tightening her grip on Sokka’s neck. “I couldn’t care less about you or your people.”

And oh. Sokka should have known. He should have known because he knows Nia, he knows what she’s been through, what she’s lost. “This is about your sister.”

Nia’s breath quickens in his ear and she snarls. “You sent her back to the North, she died on that ship!”

Sokka should tell her it’s not his fault, but he doesn’t, because it is.

(He learned a long time ago that when you’re a leader, everything is your fault)

“You’re weak,” Nia continues, and Sokka can see Toph stiffen in the corner of his eye.

Katara’s glare is sharp. “Leave him alone. What happened to your sister was an accident!”

“It never should have happened!” Nia shouts, and her voice softens when he talks to Sokka’s sister. “If you were Chief, it wouldn’t have happened.”

For a moment, no one does anything. Everyone is still, frozen in a stunned and confused silence. Finally, Aang says, “What does that mean?”

“Our leader should be a bender! You and your father have made us weak! I saw it when I moved to the South!” Nia yanks on Sokka’s head, cutting off his airway with her grip. “With you gone, a bender will be in charge, as it should be.”

Sokka gasps on air, and closes his eyes.

That’s it. That’s always been it. Sokka can’t bend, which makes him less, which makes him weak.

History will remember the Avatar, and his three masters. History won’t remember Sokka.

(History has never remembered non-benders before)

(The world may have changed, but it hasn’t changed that much)

Maybe it would be better, with Katara as chief. She’s cool headed and smart, she pays attention in meetings, she’s respectful and kind and responsible.

Ever since they were kids, Katara has been everything Sokka is not.

Sokka coughs as a rush of air fills his lungs, and he grabs at the closest thing to him, which happens to be Aang’s hand, and holds tight. Zuko is holding his shoulders, searching his eyes for something Sokka isn’t sure is there. Katara has an arm around his back, and Toph is squating next to Zuko.

“Nia?”

No one answers, and Sokka understands. They caught her. She’ll be shipped back to the South for a trial. A trial Sokka will have to rule over.

(He’ll have to banish her, he knows. He knows and he hates it because she’s a child)

(She’s a child who was raised for war, and when it was won, she found another one to fight)

(Sokka knows, he knows and he understands)

His shoulders start to shake, the mask he’d been wearing for so long starts to shatter, and the hands holding him tighten, Toph says, “You’re not weak.”

“I would hate to be a chief,” Katara assures him.

But none of them say anything about Nia, and none of them try to stop his tears.

(Because in a world where children fight the battles, who really wins?)

***

Sokka is accompanied by his friends when he returns home, which sounds a lot better than saying he’s bringing back the Fire Lord, the Avatar, and the two most powerful water and earthbenders in the world.

He’s welcomed back with open arms.

The South has grown, refugees of the Water Tribe are returning home, the warriors are all home, the children are growing up on their own terms.

Hakoda tells him they found a place for Nia in the North, a school for kids who’d been traumatized by the war or the resulting events after it ended, and Sokka is so relieved that he spends the rest of the day letting Aang drag him penguin sledding and teaching Toph and Suki to spear fish.

They have a feast, and it’s the first time Sokka laughs in a long time. Aang doesn’t let go of his arm the entire time, and Zuko promises another spar.

Sokka isn’t perfect, and he isn’t all powerful. But when he looks at the shining, beautiful, alive faces of his family and his people, he knows he’s not weak, and he knows eventually, they’ll be okay.

When Sokka was twelve years old he carved a promise to be a warrior into a block of ice.

Now Sokka is nineteen, and he carves his name into a tiny corner of the icy memorial, right above Katara’s, to the left of Zuko’s, to the right of Toph’s crude fist print, and just above Aang’s.

Sokka was raised for war.

He held his sobbing sister as his father explained that the Fire Nation killed his mother. He watched the warriors ships sail away without him. He spent years teaching himself to fight so he could protect his family.

He was the newly redeemed Fire Prince’s first friend and the first (honorary) male Kyoshi Warrior. He fell in love with the Moon Spirit and crafted a sword from meteorite. He taught the first metalbender it’s okay to cry. He taught the Avatar how to deal with nightmares.

Sokka was raised for war. He was raised in fear and hate. He was raised to fight.

As the years go by, there are more people in the world who aren’t raised for war.

Sokka can see it in the way they speak, the way they move. The way they don’t shy away from fire or loud adventures that draw attention. He can see it in their smiles, wide and fearless and kind, and with those new faces and new hope, Sokka learns to forget.

(Of course he does, he was just a kid, and he learns to stop pretending he grew up a long time ago and admit he was just a broken child trying to fix a broken world)

(They all were)

[koala-otter]

Kataang Week Day 2: Soft

for @kataang-week day 2!

Prompt: Soft Summary: Katara’s got soft hands, Toph pointed out. Yes, it’s her special seaweed lotion, Aang agreed. But wait, how does Aang know about her lotion? Katara asked. Only Toph would find out. Words: 1k+

this will probably be my only submission for kataang week. takes place sometime during book 2!

“You know, Katara and I might fight a lot, but she is good for healing,” Toph said, slapping her newly-unbruised shin. “Her hands are so soft.”

Aang nodded from beside her, where he was waiting for his own turn for healing while Katara gathered more clean water from the stream only a few feet away. “They are. It’s her special seaweed lotion from the Southern Water Tribe.”

“How do you know about my special seaweed lotion?” 

Aang looked up to find Katara watching him, her expression equal parts touched and bemused. 

“I, uh—”

 His mind went blank. Or, scratch that, it was suddenly full, and he was having trouble sorting through thoughts of “a great romance” and “a very powerful bender” to find any semblance of a coherent thought. Over and over, all he could picture was Katara disappearing behind Aunt Wu’s door, and himself eavesdropping as she had her fortune told. It should have been so easy, producing another story. Hadn’t she talked to literally anyone else about her lotion? Anyone where his presence wasn’t a major invasion of Katara’s privacy?

“Twinkletoes? Hello?”

He came back to himself to the sound—and feeling—of Toph knocking on his head with her fist. 

“Ow, Toph,” he said, waving her off. He rubbed the back of his head and looked up to see Katara still watching him curiously. “I guess I must have heard you talking to Sokka about it at some point,” he said with what he hoped was a convincing chuckle. 

Katara smiled at him and shrugged. “Guess so,” she said.

But Sokka wasn’t so ready to move on.

“Are you kidding?” he asked from the bank where he was still trying to catch a fish. He waved his pole in the air. “I don’t talk about that kind of stuff.”

Katara paused as she knelt down next to Aang. “What kind of stuff, exactly?” she asked challengingly.

Sokka shrugged a full-body shrug, his shoulders rising exaggeratedly around his ears. “You know, creams, ointments, lotions. That kind of stuff.”

Katara’s hands landed on her hips. “This from the guy who wears makeup.”

“One could call it warrior paint,” Sokka said pointedly, “but yes, I did wear makeup on Kyoshi Island.” He held his index finger in the air. “So you know it’s true when I say you and I have never talked about your seaweed lotion.”

“I can’t even remember how we ended up talking about this,” Katara said by way of admitting defeat. She bent the clean water she had gathered out of its jug and began her healing work on Aang’s shoulder.

He exhaled with relief, both at her words, and at the sensation of the water relaxing his overworked muscles.

“I do,” Toph said, now sprawled out on the grass. “We were talking about how Aang knew about your seaweed lotion.”

Aang’s breath snagged on its inhale. “Thanks, Toph,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, any chance to see you squirm, Twinkletoes,” she said, patting his hand assuredly.

“It’s just funny, because I ran out of it weeks ago,” Katara said absentmindedly, her glowing hands moving down Aang’s back. “Were you with me when I was looking for it at the Northern Water Tribe?”

“Probably,” Aang said noncommittally.

“Hmm, no, that doesn’t make sense,” Katara continued thoughtfully, “because you were training with Pakku.” She paused, and the only sound for a while was the light hum of the healing water. Then she laughed. “I don’t know why, but the only person I remember talking to about it is Aunt Wu, and I know you weren’t there for that.”

Aang’s eyes widened in response, and he forced out a laugh. “Yeah, I definitely wasn’t there.”

Toph grunted from her position in the grass.

Katara shrugged. “Weird I can’t remember.” She smiled and dropped her hands. “How does your shoulder feel?”

Aang tested it cautiously, rotating his arm first in a clockwise motion, then counter-clockwise. He beamed up at Katara. “Feels great!” he said brightly. “Thanks, Katara.”

Katara smiled back at him and nodded. “What about you, Toph?” she asked, rising from the ground. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take a look at your feet?”

Toph shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“And I can’t convince you to go easier on Aang?” 

“This lily-liver?” Toph’s arm shot out and hit Aang squarely on the shoulder, the same one that had just been healed, sending him spilling onto the ground. “How else is he going to learn to be an earthbender?”

Katara winced at the sight. “Right,” she said slowly. “Well, I’ll be in the water if you need me.”

Toph waited for Katara to disappear over the bank of the stream before pulling Aang back up by his collar. 

“Liar,” she said accusingly. 

“Toph, you don’t understand,” Aang said in a rush.

“What I understand is that you lied about listening to Katara talk to this Wu lady,” Toph replied. She let him go, and Aang nearly dropped to the ground again but for his airbender reflexes.

“Can you please lower your voice?” Aang whispered hoarsely, looking over at Sokka to see whether he was listening. The other boy was still focused on his fishing pole.

“Sure,” Toph said, kicking at the ground. A low rumble traveled under the earth and stopped abruptly in front of Aang, a projection of rock shooting out from under his feet. He leapt into the air to avoid it. “As soon as you tell me why.”

Aang looked pained as he floated back down to the ground. “I wasn’t supposed to hear it,” he said guiltily. His head fell to face the earth. “I heard Katara getting her fortune told, and I heard some stuff that I thought was about me. That I thought meant we would be together one day.”

Toph stopped, the rock that had plunged through the grass suddenly sinking once more underground. The wind had gone quiet in her ears. “So?”

Aang turned away from her. He shuffled his feet. “She’d be upset if she knew I listened. And—” He sighed. “Aunt Wu said we shape our own destinies. All of that stuff she told Katara, it might not be true.”

The grass felt lush under Toph’s feet. She dug a toe into the dirt beneath it. “I knew you liked Katara,” she said, “but I didn’t know you liked her that much.”

“I love her,” Aang said simply. 

Toph’s eyebrows rose beneath her bangs, though she quickly schooled her expression to something more neutral. She crossed her arms. Her feet told her that Sokka was still on the grassy bank, sitting as still as he ever did. Her ears told her that Katara was in the water, a series of regular splashes revealing she was practicing the same form she’d been teaching Aang the day before. She grinned. 

“I wouldn’t worry about all that, if I were you.”

“What?”

Toph waited. The wind picked back up.

“Like I said before,” she started, listening for the shift that would tell her Aang had turned back around, “Katara and I fight a lot, but I know her.” She grinned when she knew she had his attention. “You know what she cares about more than anything else in the world?”

Aang shook his head, and then realized Toph couldn’t see him. “No.”

“You, Twinkletoes.”

Toph felt the uptick in his heartbeat.

“Really?” he asked happily. “You think so?”

“Now don’t get all soft on me,” Toph said, putting her hand out to stop him. “But I know so.” She smiled as she felt Aang rise from his sagging posture. 

“Thanks, Toph,” he said, moving so quickly to hug her that she barely had a moment to react.

“All right, all right,” she said, letting his arms stay wrapped around her for a moment. “I think we’ve done enough rock-chucking for today.” She grabbed Aang’s arm and started pulling him behind her toward the bank. “I’m going to bug Sokka, and you probably have some more training to do.” Dropping Aang’s arm, she cupped her hands around her mouth and practically roared, “Katara! He’s all yours!”

“Toph! You’re scaring all the fish away!” Sokka wailed.

“Yeah, right, like they weren’t scared by your terrible skills already.”

Katara paused her bending to wave at them. “Come on, Aang! Let’s go over the eel sequence again.”

“Go on, Twinkletoes,” Toph said, pounding on his back one last time for good measure. 

Sokka grumbled something about the quality of his bait.

Aang grinned. “I owe you one,” he said.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Toph said with a grin of her own, dropping down to sit next to Sokka, “you’ll more than make up for it in your training tomorrow.” 

Aang’s smile faltered, but never one to dwell on the future, it took very little time for him to respond to Katara’s call, and soon enough he was racing down the side of the bank and into the water, Toph smiling and listening all along.

[seyaryminamoto]

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 3: Arranged marriage - Touch

On FF.net//On AO3

Dimly lit streets in the dark of the night made for a strange place to meet someone for the first time. Thus, when a young man had appeared suddenly at the carriage stop, the lone young woman waiting there shot him a warning glare immediately: if he dared make a single move out of place, she'd make short work of him immediately.

Yet he appeared to be as anxious as she felt – though she was better at concealing it than he could ever be. He glanced about himself warily before sitting at a fair distance from her, swallowing hard before glancing in her direction. In the cover of darkness, it was hard to make out his finer features, but she had the distinct feeling his skin was darker than hers.

"Hey, uh… this is the carriage stop, right?" he asked, warily. She frowned but nodded slowly. "Oh. Good, then. Uh… do you happen to know how long it takes for a new one to arrive? I mean, just how long do we have to wait here for…?"

"No clue," she said, bluntly. She wasn't interested in holding a conversation… and truthfully, no one had ever heard of common transportation of any sort working on a reliable schedule, to begin with. Odd that this guy seemed to not know that…

"Great," he sighed, but he fell silent then. He made no suspicious moves, said nothing worrisome after that, and so, despite her better judgment, she relaxed a little. Perhaps he truly meant no harm.

Ten minutes of silence later, a slow carriage wheeled into the stop at last. He sighed in relief but then smiled at her, politely.

"Hope you have a nice trip," he said. She raised an eyebrow but nodded in acknowledgement as she stood up…

And just as the carriage's moose lions halted outright, the driver called out:

"Final carriage of the day!"

"E-eh…? Oh, no," she heard the young man say behind her, just as she reached for the carriage's door.

She expected a fight, a forceful demand to be allowed to ride with her… but neither thing arrived. Instead, the young man rose to his feet, casting uncertain glances about himself, as though wondering what other getaway vehicle he might be lucky enough to find at night, if he tried hard enough. She frowned.

"You… you look like you're running," she said, suddenly. He froze in place.

"I'm… not. There's nothing to run from," he blurted out, unable to mask his nervousness. Her analytical frown was trained on his scared visage.

"No?" she said. "So… if I, say, decided to be generous and offered to share the ride with you, you wouldn't accept it because you have nothing to run from?"

"Oh? Y-you'd do that?" he asked, and now his nervousness was accompanied by hopefulness. "Gee, that's… that'd be great. Thanks!"

"I didn't say I was offering it yet," she said, with a teasing smirk. The young man froze in place, blinking blankly.

"You… okay, so you're just messing with me?" he asked, grimacing now.

"I'm still weighing whether you're worth traveling with, for however short a time it might be," she said, raising her eyebrows. He grimaced.

"Well, I'm sure I will be a most forgettable traveling buddy, I promise you won't even remember I'm on the same carriage as you," he said, nodding pompously. "So… please? I do have to get away, you weren't wrong about that…"

"Honesty is a good policy. I wouldn't say the best one, but it's good to know at least one thing about you before letting you share my carriage," she smirked.

"Oi, you two! Are you climbing aboard or not?" asked the driver, glancing back at them with unrestrained irritation.

The young woman sighed and glanced at the stranger before gesturing at the vehicle with her head. He grinned brightly at her… and for a fleeting, strange instant, she couldn't help but think no one had ever smiled at her with such innocence before. Whatever doubts lingered on her mind, that was already one new experience… one thing she might have never had, if not for the freedom she was currently fighting for.

She hoped the softening of her eyes wasn't apparent in the darkness of the night, however. She climbed aboard the carriage and the young man followed, closing the door behind himself. They settled on the same side of the carriage, despite still retaining some distance from each other.

"Where to, then?" the carriage driver asked.

"The bay," she said, not expecting that her companion would speak at the same time as she had:

"The port."

They glanced at each other in astonishment by then, and the carriage driver snorted over the strange coincidence before spurring his moose lions to start their regular trotting.

"You're… heading to the port too?" he asked, dubiously. "Or just to the bay area in general? Weird coincidence, huh? For the two of us to head the same way…"

"You really are running from something, aren't you?" she said. He bit his lip before shooting a wary glance at her.

"And that doesn't seem to bother you in the least. Which makes me wonder if you're running from something too," he said. She blinked blankly before nodding in acknowledgement.

"I guess you can think for yourself just fine, huh?" she said. "Though I'd surmise it's easier to run away when you know the land you're running around like the back of your hand… whereas you, I suspect, have no idea where you are or how anything works. Thus… you're not from around here, are you? You're a foreigner?"

"Uh… sure. And you are from around here," he replied, biting his lip. "Which makes me wonder why you want to run away…"

"Like no one has ever tried to escape from home in the history of mankind," she replied, rolling her eyes, and he chuckled.

"Fair enough," he said. "I guess it sounds pretty stupid to run away when you have no idea where you're going… well, no serious idea, anyway. I've been in the Fire Nation before, don't get me wrong, but not in the mainland. I, uh, had a master in one of the outer islands…"

"A master? Of what?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Swordsmanship," he replied. Her eyes widened.

"Wait… Master Piandao?" she asked. "He agreed to train you?"

"Yeah, believe it or not," he said, grinning. "So, you know, give me a sword and I can be your bodyguard, if you need one. Come to think of it, I could use the coin from a job like that…"

"Fun as the idea may be, I don't exactly have a ton of money on me right now so I couldn't quite afford your salary," she said. "I have enough to pay for this ride, and then…"

"Then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Then I'll have to save up," she said, simply. "Once I move on further."

"So… do you want to take a ship ride, huh? Is that why you're going to the bay?" he said, with a bright grin. He took her silence as a positive answer. "Great. Maybe we can find a ride together too! I have no idea where to go, so I can tag along with you for as long as you'll have me. Once I reach the Earth Kingdom I'll figure out my bearings properly…"

"Ah?" she watched him intently now, as he offered her a tight-lipped grin. "You're off to the Earth Kingdom, then?"

"For now, yeah. It's just a temporary plan… until I can find someplace else to stay safely," he said, shrugging.

"And you know the Earth Kingdom better than the Fire Nation?" she asked. He smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, not really. I've seen even less of it so far, but with how big it is, tracking someone down over there must be real tough," he said. "I'd say I have a good shot at shaking off pursuit by then."

"You're so set on running… did you kill someone, perhaps?" she asked, smirking. He snorted and shook his head.

"No, no, definitely not," he said. She huffed.

"Heh. That's boring. I'd have rather traveled with a murderous swordsman rather than a plain swordsman…"

"Why?" he exclaimed, still amused. "How is that any better?"

"It's more threatening, is all," she smiled. "Well, either way… I'm thinking we could help each other, to a fault. I know my way through the Fire Nation, I know exactly which ships to stow away on, which islands to stop at…"

"Stow away?" he repeated, blinking blankly.

"Didn't you hear I don't have that much money?" she said.

"Well, yeah… heh. Makes sense," he snickered. "Then we're going to be stowaways?"

"If you truly intend to come with me, yes," she smiled. "Then we can travel together in the Earth Kingdom for as long as it's convenient. If the time comes when our arrangement stops working, we go our separate ways. Easy, right?"

"Sure," he said, grinning. "Though… you really must be running away from something weird too, if you'd rather travel with a murderer who can intimidate people successfully."

"Eh… it just comes in handy, is all," she said. He smiled and shrugged.

"Alright. No need to share anything personal if you don't want to," he said. "Though… we could learn each other's names, right? If nothing else? We'll be traveling together for a while, from the sound of it…"

No, they certainly could not share that. She was fine with traveling with a stranger if that was what she had to do… but not quite as fine with revealing something as damning as her very name. For if he was a foreigner in the Fire Nation, just when a certain diplomatic delegation had traveled there from the Southern Water Tribe, then chances were he was part of that diplomatic delegation… and that'd mean he'd know exactly who she was, as soon as she spoke her name aloud.

The only way out was to lie, of course. And while it was clear he was no good at it, she certainly was far more skilled at that particular art than he was.

"I'm Ming Wei," she said, blurting out the name of one of her school classmates from ages ago. She caught the small twitch of his eyebrows, and she stared at him intently: "You?"

"Uh… Yuro," he said, knowing his hesitation would do nothing to afford believability to his claims. Then again, he had been able to tell her name was a lie, too: she had given it too readily, with a hint of defiance that didn't seem all that necessary when merely giving away a name. Just so, it was obvious she could tell that wasn't his name either.

"Yuro?" she repeated. He grinned and nodded. "Huh. Sounds like the name of a Water Tribe person. You're part of their delegation, then?"

"Uh… yeah. I am," he admitted, averting her gaze. Damn it. Yet he had already admitted he barely knew the Earth Kingdom, feigning to be a citizen of the large continent would've been an even more obvious lie than his fake name already was.

"And you're… running?" she asked.

"Well… yeah. Because you see…" he started, biting his lip before deciding it was all or nothing, at this stage. He had to go all out… otherwise his companion might see through him, turn the carriage around and toss him right back at the Fire Nation Palace's doorstep. "I've been the Southern Water Tribe Prince's bodyguard for ages. That's why I learned with Master Piandao, you see? But he is… an arrogant, annoying, lazy brat I can't stand, you know? I don't want to work for him anymore. So, you know, I thought if I ran away right now, no one would really notice or care: he's got all the Fire Nation's guards now, doesn't he? And he'll probably be able to take some of them back home with him if he wants, once his marriage is finalized…"

"Then… you were just waiting for the chance to get away?" she asked. He nodded promptly: something with that story didn't sit right, but just hearing the Prince was an arrogant, annoying and lazy man had been enough to put a stop to her rational thinking. Oh, she already hadn't wanted her whole life to be chosen for her, those words had merely cemented that belief further.

"Yup. I'm tired of living my life doing what everyone expects of me," he said. "It was as good a chance as any to get away. Maybe my only chance ever."

And perhaps she was too emotionally compromised at this point, for she had sensed no dishonesty in those last words. If anything, all she felt now was empathy… which was rare. She didn't often feel empathetic towards anyone. But that strange swordsman's struggles were far too similar to her own… perhaps too much, but she didn't seem to think of that just yet. It was all too easy to understand chasing for freedom they had been deprived from throughout all their lives…

"And you knew about the delegation, then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Was it made common knowledge, or…?"

"Well, in high circles, yes," she said, biting her lip. Ugh, why had she gone and said that for? Now he'd assume she was noble… which she was. But the idea was to throw him off… yet, busy as she had been daydreaming about freedom and about having found a kindred spirit, she hadn't focused enough on lying successfully anymore.

"So, you're… highborn? Or you work for them, too?" he guessed. She nodded.

"Work for them, yes. I… was the princess's maid," she whispered. He gasped.

"Oh? You were? Then… you're running for the same reasons I am?" he asked, his voice dubious.

"Something like that," she said, biting her lip. "I just… took advantage of the chaos. Getting away while everyone was riled up over the foreigners was the best chance I was likely to get."

"I see…"

They glanced at each other warily for a moment, suspicion crossing both their eyes… but again, they said nothing. The dim light filtering through the carriage's curtains wasn't enough for them to see each other better, and even if they could, their physical appearances weren't going to suffice in determining whether the other was lying in the exact same way they were…

If that were the case, though… the thought crossed both their minds, and anxiety surged inside them. Wouldn't it be outrageous that they'd run away together if they were, perhaps, running away from each other?

But no, they weren't truly running away from each other. They wanted to run away from letting their families make their choices for them. They were running away from a life of submission and abiding by tradition, from a life of arranged marriages that were only focused on the political advancement of their respective nations… and not in the least on the happiness they might find with their significant other.

So, whoever he was, or whoever she was, they were stuck on the same boat… the same carriage, at the moment, but soon enough it'd be a boat for real. This wasn't about affronting each other, it was about finding freedom, and if they were to find it together, at least they wouldn't have to face their upcoming hardships alone.

"Well… nice traveling with you, Ming Wei," he said, with a friendly smile. Despite everything, she smiled back and nodded.

"And with you, Yuro," she whispered.

The night covered their escape once they reached their destination: they paid the carriage driver quickly and then dashed away through the streets of the bay. He tagged along behind her, shooting wary glances all around them to make sure no one could see them as she determined which cargo ship was the best one to stow away on for their grand escape. Finally, she narrowed down one that appeared safe… and they climbed aboard at haste, hiding amongst crates below deck while waiting for morning to come, and for the ship to start moving.

As much adrenaline as they had at first, it decreased steadily while they waited: morning found them dozing off together in the ship's cargo deck, her head on his shoulder, and his against hers. Even after she woke up anew, she didn't dare move right away: why was his presence, his warmth, so comforting? Was it because he was the first man, outside her relatives, that she had ever allowed herself to touch so carelessly? Naturally, that only made her extra nervous – and then, curiously, he was just as nervous as her when he woke up too, blushing and apologizing profusely for getting closer to her while unconscious. She wondered, briefly, if he was just as sheltered, just as unexperienced with anything outside his family, as she was.

… And again, the likelihood of him being who she thought he was surged. It really might be him. He really might be running away from the same thing she was…

The cargo ship was slow and made several stops through the day: she had chosen one specialized in food trade, however, so they didn't lack for nourishment while they traveled through the Fire Nation's waters, stealing food occasionally from the crates whenever it was safe to do so. Still, whenever the ship stopped, the sailors would enter the lower deck to collect crates and deposit new ones: one time she had clasped her hand over his mouth to silence him as he was in the middle of reciting his favorite types of noodles when she heard the first footsteps coming closer, another time he had to lunge for her, pinning her down on the wooden floorboards just as she was in plain view, ransacking another crate in search of food, just as the sailors brought in a new haul of items. In every case, they knew they should have been affronted by the casual, careless touching between them… and yet their bodies' reactions were as distant from affront and discomfort as could be.

They fielded off each of the sailors' incursions successfully… until the ship stopped for what seemed to be the sixth time of the day. There weren't as many crates left anymore, so the sailors started to look deeper through the cellar… it was obvious this time that no matter how they held their breath or remained perfectly still, they would certainly get caught.

"Check the crates at the far end, Zan. It's gotta be there," said one of the sailors.

He tensed up beside her: they were near the crates they were hiding at. Oh, if that Zan guy caught them, he might turn them in to the authorities if he recognized either of them, and all their intentions of running away would prove futile…

He glanced at her with uncertainty, and she glanced right back, defiantly: she conveyed silently that he should follow her lead. He wasn't sure what that meant until the man was closer yet, enough that his unkempt, sweaty body odor reached them… and then her hands fisted around her traveling companion's shirt, pulling him in for a surprising, ferocious kiss.

And inexperienced, too. Which was fine, for he was just as inexperienced at it, going by how awkwardly his lips shifted against hers, not knowing what he was doing but following fit with her silent demand, as requested.

It was strange at first, but smoother moments later: she wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping to afford further believability to the story she hoped to feed the sailors once they caught them, and to her surprise, he embraced her waist too… even going so far as leaning down on her, pressing her to the floorboards as he grew to understand what he was supposed to do, gradually.

She had been focusing so much on selling their pretense that she had barely noticed it wasn't quite so much of a pretense anymore: this guy was seriously learning how to kiss by kissing her. And she was letting him. In fact, she was learning a thing or two as well.

Her right hand cupped his face, keeping him in place as she wondered if she ought to go further… and then it was his tongue poking her lips softly, so she of course rose up to the occasion. Oh, that wasn't fair, deepening their kiss had only made it even more pleasant… his tongue toyed with hers, swirling with it, rubbing against every place inside her mouth he might be able to reach. Well, damn, if she had thought this would feel so good, she would've likely started doing this with him from the moment they climbed aboard the same carriage…

"Oi! W-what're you two doing down there?!"

Ah. There it was.

Naturally, they were ejected from the ship, and they were left to watch it sail away as dusk settled over their current location. He was aghast over the fluke of their plan, having hoped that playing the eloping lovers convincingly might elicit sympathy from the sailors, but there was none to be found. She told him, however, that he shouldn't worry: it was a perfect opportunity to further mislead anyone who might be pursuing them, she told him as they walked together over the dock, still holding hands to continue furthering the pretense that they were but a couple of young adults who were so enthralled with each other they couldn't stop doing inappropriate things together… a perfect pretense indeed, for this way no one would suspect the truth behind why they were stowing away on ships in the first place. Yet after that kiss, she wasn't all that sure it was only a pretense anymore…

"So… where did they ditch us?" he asked, casting glances at the beautiful island warily. "This looks pretty, but…"

"It's pretty, yes. Ember Island," she said, simply. He raised his eyebrows.

"Do you know this place? Do you have friends here we can stay with, or do you think there are any other ships we can stow away on…?"

"Maybe we should wait a little longer," she said. "We could use a break… and I know how to sneak into the Royal Family's vacation house. We can spend the night there, and if there happens to be any coin stashed away in there, we can actually pay for our passage to the Earth Kingdom, no need to stow away anymore."

"Isn't that risky too, though? If we travel legally and someone links us to the royal families, they could give us away and send us back…" he mumbled with uncertainty. She smirked.

"Not necessarily. They won't really have reason to suspect it in the first place, right, boyfriend?" she said, tugging at his hand. His cheeks heated up and he smiled weakly at her. "We'll try to find casual clothes in the villa, so we look even less suspicious… and then we'll find a small boat, probably manned by commoners with no likely connections to the Fire Nation Royal Family. That way no one will ever guess who we are."

"Sounds fair," he smiled. "Also… we, uh, should practice our cover story some more. Just saying…"

"Should we?" she smirked.

"I have spent all my life devoted to the way of the warrior," he said, playfully pompous. She snickered at his words. "So, uh, I'm not exactly experienced at this sort of thing…?"

"And I've spent my whole life waiting on a pampered princess," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Hence, I'm not experienced either…"

"See? It's only natural that we'd need more practice. It's just to make sure we're perfectly believable," he assured her. She laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish," she said. Truthfully, she wanted to kiss him again. She had never expected that sensation to be addictive… but it truly was.

She led him to the Royal Family's villa, guiding him towards the back of it just as he suggested he could climb the front gates to prove just how strong and manly he was, in order to impress his new "girlfriend". Once she found the secret backdoor, and they were safely inside the house's premises, she suggested he could do it anyway, if he truly had wanted to impress her.

All such playful banter and teasing continued through the evening, and neither one was sure why or how it was so easy to play with each other in this way. They found more than enough money, stashed away in a vault that she opened suspiciously easily, to afford passage to the Earth Kingdom, and they even used some of it to buy some food in the town, eating it together in one of the most lavish rooms within the villa, a comfortable lounge furnished with crimson cushions and couches, so comfortable he seemed tempted to fall asleep on one of them, right then and there.

"You know… for a maid, you have really smooth and pretty hands," he teased her, watching her as he rested on one of the couches. She was fluffing a cushion, which she tossed at him playfully, prompting him to laugh as he caught it in midair.

"I'll have you know, taking care of my appearance and my skin doesn't make me any less hardworking than some fancy warrior boy who took lessons from the most pretentious sword master in the nation," she said, approaching him and pushing the cushion into his chest. He only laughed at her response, reaching out to clasp her shoulders with his hands.

"The most pretentious, you say?" he smirked. "How so? He was always pretty cool…"

"The swords he crafts are the most expensive in the Fire Nation, period," she replied. "Not to mention he has always been known for being awfully picky about his students, choosing only the worthy… and how does he know who's worthy, huh?"

"He's wise and clever, that's how," he grinned. "And see, him being picky is exactly why his swords are that expensive. He had to to live off something other than teaching, don't you think?"

"And what do you think you'll live off of, then, in the Earth Kingdom?" she asked, leaning over his body, with the cushion still between them. "You'll be a sellsword of some sort? A mercenary?"

"Sounds fun," he smirked. "Want to join in? I could teach you to use a sword of your own, if you want to… heck, we should ransack this place for swords, too. I didn't bring one with me when I ran away, but the sooner I get one…"

"I don't think there's weapons in this place," she smiled. "This is, after all, a vacationing spot."

"How careless of the Fire Nation Royal Family to assume they're not going to need swords in their vacationing spot," he declared, smirking haughtily. She snorted and laughed, pressing her face to the cushion. "What if a door lock gets jammed? If you have a sword you can press it right between the wall and the door, and then you're free! See, we all need a sword once in a while…"

"Why didn't you bring one of yours on your trip, then?" she asked. He bit his lip.

"Uuuuh…" he averted his gaze from hers, and she snorted again.

"You can be quite smart sometimes. But then you also stop being all that smart moments later," she grinned. "Strangely… I like it."

"You do, huh? Means you can make fun of me pretty easily," he smirked. "Say, I am enjoying your weight atop me, lady maid, but, um, I just remembered we agreed on practicing our pretense relationship some more…? You know, so it's more believable tomorrow…"

"More believable, huh?" she said, raising her eyebrows. He grinned giddily. "Is that really what this is about? Aren't you just desperate to kiss a woman, now that you had your first taste of it?"

"Well… yes, that's also true," he admitted, shamelessly. She laughed and shook her head.

"At least you're cute. For a Water Tribe guy," she said, haughtily.

"You're cute too. For a Fire Nation girl," he smirked.

She bit her lip before leaning in… and he leaned too, catching her lips with his own. Something told her he had a whole strategy planned, regarding how to kiss her, how to touch her, how to keep her on her toes and overcome her sensually…

And as reckless as it was, she let him.

For he was charming in his own way, why lie? He had already been a remarkably skilled kisser, one who had taken to discovering how to improve his technique to perfection… the expected behavior of a talented swordsman. Everything that might come next should be, she hoped, just as amazing and fun as the heated kissing was, going by how his hands trailed over her hips, tugging at her sash shyly despite his lips were as savage as they dared be…

If she did it, she'd definitely close the door on the future she had been forced into. Oh, perhaps he was indeed who she had grown to suspect he was, and that would be its own kind of trouble… but if he wasn't, this would change her future for good. No more lying about, waiting to be of use for an uncle who thought little of her, Fire Lord as he was. No more spats with a mother who constantly assured her she only wanted what was best to her, and that traditions were what was best, somehow, even traditions she couldn't seem to explain with any reasonable arguments. No more butting heads with a brother who, for all his faults, was still the assigned heir for their father. No more waiting for the perfect opportunity to prove her worth with a father who could only see her as a child to protect. And no more pitying a cousin, heir to the Fire Lord, who had everything he could ever want, except for the one thing she was currently chasing after: the chance to choose for himself who he wanted to be.

For if she was caught with this guy, whoever he was, she would be disowned, tossed aside… and while the loneliness could be hard to bear with, it wouldn't be quite so bad if she was with him. He wanted to go all the way to the Earth Kingdom, didn't he? Why not go with him, to the very ends of the earth if he wished, if it'd mean he'd kiss her just as delectably and deeply, if it'd mean he'd laugh with her as he had so far, if it meant he'd touch her boldly once she tugged her own sash loose, offering him permission to continue onwards, his hand trailing over her abdomen…

It was madness, of course it was. She barely knew him, she was certain she didn't know his real name, and she had no idea if he was actually a dreadful guy who couldn't even clean up after himself, or do menial chores – because, to be fair, neither could she. But something felt so right as she bared herself before him, and as he did the same before her. Something worked, clicked, even if it might have been merely caused by the unabashed enthusiasm of two young people finding and making love for the first time.

Oh, it was so reckless. It was such a bad idea. And yet they went all the way, kissing and holding each other intimately through the night, thrusting away in a wild celebration of freedom, of having chosen for themselves, of having done what they pleased, all consequences be damned…

Such consequences couldn't be all so easily dismissed, of course, when they were startled by strange noises in the Ember Island villa by morning. She rose first, her lower body sore in a strangely pleasant way, and she cast a wary glance in the direction of the door before clasping her companion's bare shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, I think we're not alone anymore," she said. He groaned and blinked himself awake.

"Hmm… you're so pretty…" he smiled groggily. Her cheeks flushed: well, that was a nice enough compliment to wake to, considering it was the first time he'd seen her in proper daylight so far, but she wasn't sure it was the time for it anyway.

"Thanks. Now… we should get dressed," she said, raising her eyebrows. He hummed before he frowned. "There's people nearby. We need to get going, right now."

"Uh… oh damn," he said, biting his lip and sitting up. His hair had been tied in what she had interpreted as a top-knot before… now she could tell, as he pulled it up hastily, that it was actually a wolf's tail. A classic Water Tribe hairstyle… that she had never thought she'd find all that appealing until she saw it in him. Curses, he was far better-looking than she expected him to be, too.

They climbed off the couch, hastily cladding themselves in their traveling clothes. Caught up in their night of passion, she had forgotten her intent to search for casual clothes in the villa's closets, anything they could wear, as long as moths hadn't eaten them away since the family's last visit…

"What do we do?" he said, pulling up his trousers: his bare chest was a delight to gaze upon, too. To think she'd slept with her head perfectly rested on those strong pecs… ugh, whatever came next, whether they were caught or not, she'd find a way to run off with him again. She needed more of him, one night definitely hadn't been enough. "Who do you think is out there…? Does the Royal Family have, uh, hired help that works tending to the house while they're not vacationing? Or…?"

"No, they don't," she answered, coming back to her senses upon hearing his rational words. She had to get dressed fast too, to pull up her hair, and to remember every single hidden passageway within the villa that they might be able to escape through… "I have a plan. It'll be confusing, but you have to follow me."

"No problem. I'll go wherever you take me," he said, winking at her. He ought to stop that, or she'd pin him down and kiss him all over again…

"Well, then…" she said, lowering her voice as she slid her feet into her light shoes…

And then a loud knock on their lounge's door. They both froze in place.

"Are you in there?! Open up, now!"

The voice was familiar, and dread rose inside her gut upon hearing it. Oh, no. Of all people, it was her father who had found her. Curse everything…

"W-what do we do? Are there any ways out of here without going through the door, or…?" her companion asked nervously. She shook her head.

"My plan… we had to go to the corridor to reach the passageway I had in mind. I mean, unless you want us to jump out the window…?" she suggested. He frowned but nodded.

"Cool. It's just a second floor anyway, and if I land right, I won't break a bone. Hopefully. I can catch you down there, once you jump too," he decided, breathing out and stepping towards the window.

But before he could reach it, a clicking sound revealed the locked door had been opened, and the sound of another voice froze him on his tracks, next:

"You'd better not be in there, son, because if I get my hands on you after what you've pulled…!"

Oh, hell. Oh, hell by the thousands. This wasn't good.

The two runaways froze where they were, meeting the glares of the two men who barged into the lounge without missing a beat. A group of soldiers stood in the corridor, and the Fire Nation nobleman who had made his way inside the room ordered them to wait outside: the Water Tribe man beside him, clad in regal clothes, could only be, of course, Chief Hakoda. And the Fire Nation man was none other than the Fire Lord's brother, Prince Ozai.

"Well, well. This is just as bad as we suspected, huh, Ozai?" said the Chief, shaking his head as he glared at the young man by the window, who had lowered his gaze shamefully.

"You… you are in a lot of trouble, young lady," Ozai hissed, pointing at the young woman, who shrank in place. Well, that was a first. She had certainly never made him that angry ever before…

"U-uh, it was my idea!" the young man exclaimed, rushing back to stand before her, gazing pleadingly at the two newcomers. "I bumped into her, in the Palace, and then I asked her to run away with me, and…!"

"And she was stupid enough to go for it?" Ozai growled, still glaring at her. "You disappoint me, child. Is this what I raised you for?"

His words slammed into the young man with the truth he hadn't quite wanted to acknowledge, despite he had known, deep down, that it was the truth indeed.

"Or what I raised you for, Prince Sokka?" Chief Hakoda growled, and this time it was the young woman who shuddered upon hearing those words.

Oh, Prince Sokka. She had sworn herself that she would hate him on sight, and she would've done it for the sake of rebelling, no other reason: she had been against their arranged marriage from the start, appalled by the idea of not being free to make a single important choice in her life… and yet now that she had made that choice, the choice of running away and then giving herself to a stranger, she found she had played into fate's hand with each decision she had made. Curses, but that was embarrassing…

"You two are utterly ridiculous," growled Ozai, shaking his head. "The whole city is a pandemonium, looking for you both! Had Chief Hakoda not offered to search nearby islands, in case you had escaped by sea, you would have caused an even bigger ruckus than you did, Azula! Your uncle is up in arms about this, and you know it!"

"He can be up in arms about whatever he wants. If he wanted an alliance with the Water Tribe that badly, he could've looked for an old maid to marry himself…" she growled, though her words were half-hearted by now. Ozai scoffed.

"You forget your place, Azula," he growled.

"Uh… really, don't blame her, please…" Sokka continued, still trying to spare her of the worst consequences, only for Ozai to turn his wrathful glare on him.

"And you? You decided to seduce your future wife and run away with her, is that what you're trying to convince me of?" Ozai hissed. Sokka gulped and lowered his head. "How much sense does it make?! At the very least you could've found other people to run away with, it's completely absurd that you'd choose to run off with each other!"

"Uh, well, we didn't really know who the other was, so…"

"WHAT?!"

Both fathers shouted at the same time, and Sokka grimaced as he stood between them and Azula. It was bad enough that they hadn't bothered confirming the other's identities, no matter how they suspected them… it was even worse that their fathers would react to it as explosively as they did now.

"Oh, goodness… oh, you know what, Ozai? This… it'll be a funny story to share with everyone else once a few years have come and gone," Hakoda said, patting his shoulder. "Let's just look at it this way, shall we?"

"Only if these two fools go back to the Palace and marry each other as they were meant to. Curses, couldn't you wait one week? One week?" he hissed. "It's not much to ask, or were you truly that keen on getting in each other's pants?"

"N-no! Seriously, we didn't know who the other was!" Sokka said, blushing.

"Speak for yourself. I had the feeling it was you all along," Azula sighed. Sokka huffed, turning to pout at her.

"Well, I had the feeling it was you too, but I couldn't know for sure and neither could you!" he squeaked. "Though, I mean… we were running away from each other and ended up running together? I guess? Though, in a sense, we kind of, somewhat, did choose each other, in the end…?"

Well, that couldn't be denied. None of what she'd done since she had met him, two nights ago, had been forced on either of them. They had chosen it all, jumping headfirst into their adventure, wondering just how far they could go together until their respective families caught with them. And while she didn't look forward to moving to the South Pole, to live her life alongside the Chief's heir and spend her days amongst them as a reminder of the alliance between their people and hers, the knowledge that she had found him appealing, interesting and worth running away with before confirming who he was proved to be enough to make the situation slightly less unpleasant… at least, for now.

If things took a turn for the worse, she could always run away, too. But as she gazed at the young man before her, she had the feeling she'd be running with him, wherever she went next.

And that idea didn't bother her in the least, truthfully.

"I guess so," she said, breathing out slowly. "I certainly could do worse, husband-wise…"

"Heh. I'd definitely do worse, wife-wise, if I picked anyone else," Sokka smirked, and she smiled right back.

"Ew," Ozai said, blinking blankly as he averted his gaze from his daughter and her finally accepted destiny.

"Oh, I know she's your daughter, and you didn't want to give her away to anyone, Ozai…" Hakoda laughed, patting his back. "But hey, looks like they gave up! I thought they never would."

"We're going back to the Palace now. And the two of you are going to spend the night in different rooms until your ceremony is done. That's final," Ozai huffed. "Whatever you do after you're married… is your business."

He still shuddered after saying those words, no doubt unwilling to picture whatever two young adults, who were boldly flirt in front of their fathers, might get up to behind closed doors. He had no delusions regarding what had surely transpired in this very room merely a few hours ago…

"Get ready, then. You have five minutes to pick up whatever you've left lying about," Hakoda said. "And don't even think about doing anything crazy, now! There are soldiers all over this property, so you'd better not even consider running away again."

"Say, how did you find us so fast?" Azula asked him. Hakoda grinned and shrugged.

"Water Tribe longboats: not quite as sturdy as your nation's steel ships, but a thousand times faster, I'd say," he snickered. Ozai shot him a disbelieving glare. "By which I mean… I sent all my available ships out to look for you in every nearby island. Your mothers went to Fire Fountain City, Prince Lu Ten accompanied my advisor Bato to Shu Jing…"

"So, it's basically chance that you two decided to come to Ember Island?" Sokka groaned.

"Something like that," Hakoda grinned. "Truthfully, Ozai had a feeling you might have wound up here. He says this has always been a happy place for your family, after all."

He glanced at Azula as he spoke, offering her another proud grin before turning around, clasping Ozai's shoulder and dragging him out of the room. Despite Hakoda's grip was strong, Ozai's head poked through the doorway one more time.

"You have five minutes! Don't you dare do anything further to despoil my daughter's dignity, Prince Sokka!"

"I wouldn't, I wouldn't!" Sokka squeaked nervously, before Hakoda successfully dragged Ozai away.

Sokka sighed, slumping in place before rising back to his full height, smiling awkwardly at Azula. She bit her lip as she gazed at him: he was tall, well-built, and indeed, ridiculously handsome. He was fun to talk to, and he seemed to enjoy kissing her just as much as she had enjoyed kissing him. It was all far too perfect… and who was she to reject perfection when it fell upon her lap as it had this time?

"Is… is your hometown a good place?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow. "It's only… well, I'm a firebender. I don't really know if I'd deal with the cold well. And I know there's been a lot of conflict between our nations, back from the times of the war…"

"That's all water under the bridge at this point," Sokka grinned, "People down there have taken quite the liking to your dad, you know? Because he helped stop the war. I guess that's why I wasn't completely sure about running away, but… it didn't feel right to marry my dad's best friend's daughter just because they felt like setting us up together to strengthen the ties between our nations. I did want to have a chance to choose for myself… otherwise, it feels like they won the war for nothing, to a fault? They set the Avatar free from the iceberg and beat your grandfather, yet the next generation is still expected to do whatever's convenient for political alliances? Granted, things have gotten better for the common folk… but I don't see why people like you or me should be forced to do anything we don't want to."

"Do you still not want it?" she asked. It was his turn to bite his lip before shaking his head.

"I… may have had a change of mind. Though, you know, I would've liked to woo you properly. You know, taking you out on a date, introducing you to my family, like normal people do…"

"I think the last two days could count as a date," Azula smirked. "And… I just met your dad. So I'd hope that counts, to a fault."

Sokka laughed and shrugged, stepping closer to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. Her smile softened as she gazed into those handsome features… oh, she was lucky. She couldn't believe it, but she was absolutely, truly, lucky.

"Do you want to marry me, then?" he asked, his voice small. "I doubt I'm the greatest guy there is, but… I'll be the best husband I can be. If you'll have me."

"I'm not the greatest girl there is either, I literally took you on a trip as stowaways and we stole quite a bit of food from their crates, too. I've turned us both into criminals, haven't I?" she smiled. Sokka chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers. "But… I'll be the best wife I can be, too. Even if an icy pole isn't fun to live in."

"We can take trips to warmer places whenever the cold becomes too much to take," he suggested. "Though there's a few things we can do to warm you up while we're there, too…"

"Oh? Like what?" she asked, teasingly.

Sokka chuckled and leaned in, kissing her again, and once more it was delightful, as jolts of electricity seemed to flow between them. Well, they had resisted the match at first, but it seemed their parents had made the right choice after all. They had been ready to run off together, to live together, to fight together… and now they could do all those things, without having to run away at all. It was the perfect arrangement. Too perfect, perhaps. But who were they to turn down perfection?

Hakoda had to yank Ozai back once they returned to the lounge to find their children locked in a slightly intimate embrace, once the five minutes were done. Of course, the firebender would see red upon witnessing his favorite child, the daughter he treasured, exchanging saliva quite so enthusiastically with his future son-in-law…

"Come on, we knew this would happen, we did. That's the entire reason we let them run off, damn you, stop acting like an angry rhino-bull," Hakoda said, clasping Ozai's shirt's collar and dragging him away from the lounge. Ozai huffed, shaking his head.

"I told you it was a bad idea. I did! Leaving them unguarded so they'd run off together…?" he growled.

"And paying a carriage driver to pick them up after the last carriage was long gone, too," Hakoda grinned. "It was the perfect strategy."

"Up until the point where you didn't have any means to track them down after they stowed away as they did!" Ozai hissed. Hakoda grimaced.

"Well, that was a minor detail, but you figured out this was where they'd head, so no need to make a fuss about my oversight, right?"

"You haven't changed in the least since the war, Hakoda. Not even a little bit. Always with the outlandish plans and ridiculous ideas…"

"Heeeey! Those plans saved our asses, and Aang's, a thousand times! As did my jokes, I'll add…"

"Your jokes? Perhaps it's you who are a joke, Chief Hakoda, altogether…"

"Well now, I'm the joke? Say, who's the one who can't stop throwing hissy fits about his daughter making out with her future husband, huh?"

Ozai growled, covering his face in his hands as the image returned to his mind. Hakoda beamed brightly upon silencing his friend successfully: he had maintained correspondence with Ozai long after the war had ended, they had met up on occasion since then, too. When Fire Lord Iroh, advised by Avatar Aang, had determined that preserving balance ought to be aided by crafting alliances between nations, he had wondered if perhaps a convenient marriage between his son and Ozai's daughter would do the trick. They were both clever since childhood, talented fighters, prone to witty banter that their respective siblings couldn't keep up with… it was, as far as Hakoda could tell, an ideal match. But how to convince them of it?

The idea of allowing their strong-willed children to escape, while subtly directing them towards each other, had come to mind three nights before the Water Tribe delegation arrived in the Fire Nation Capital. Ozai had been horrified by the idea… and more horrified upon realizing Hakoda had set everything in motion long before he could do anything about it. In the end, they had no choice but to wait and hope that Hakoda's insight would have been accurate, and that their children wouldn't despise each other instead of falling in love, as he had hoped they would.

And by now, while walking away from the room where the two soon-to-be spouses continued to profess their growing affections for each other, Hakoda could only grin proudly: Ozai's bad mood notwithstanding, his plan had been an absolute success.

[carnistirs]

forelsket

↳ @taangweek 2020 Day 7: Ember Island

Warnings: rated mature for some mild gore (just to be safe)

Summary: While on vacation, land-dweller Toph accidentally finds herself a merman who won’t leave her alone. 

Read on ao3 or under the cut 

forelsket {Norwegian} the overwhelming euphoric feeling you experience when you’re falling in love with someone

‘

Toph hears the ripple in the water and bends over the dock, angling her face towards the abyss. She pushes her foot back into the sea, feels currents brush against her ankle.

She isn’t afraid, has never once been afraid of anything in her life, so she holds her spine erect and keeps her face expressionless at whatever’s staring back at her from beneath the surface of the water. It feels like a fish, a particularly big one, spinning its tail in circles. She picks up her cane and jabs it into the water, hard and quick, and the creature retreats further into the ocean’s depths.

But then she hears it – the singing that rises above the stillness of the sea.

Even stifled by the water, it’s the smoothest thing Toph’s ever heard. There’s a pull at her chest that has her leaning over the dock even more, guiding her body until her face is partially submerged.

And there are no words to describe what she hears – it’s like wind chimes against a gentle wind, the sweet tune of a hermit thrush at dawn, a choir in an large, empty church. Except, it also isn’t any of those things because this is seamless and infinite, a song more mellifluous than anything the best of humanity could ever hope to produce.

It’s a song that lures doe-eyed sailors out the sea with smiles on their faces, even as they’re choking with water in their throats.

Part of Toph knows she should have drowned by now or been dragged out further until the tides carry her body away. Instead of yanking her into the water though, the song wraps itself all around her like the most comfortable hug in the world.

This is—

She jerks her head out of the water and doesn’t even cough at how long she’s been holding her breath. She just inhales once, an eerie calm settling over her.

(When Toph leaves the dock, the song turns manic, lingering like a prolonged shriek in her ear until the noises of the beach houses muffle it out.)

‘

She jerks awake when the song tugs at her again, reeling her back to involuntary awareness. The summer heat is already unbearable enough without this thing’s fucking voice leaving her restless in bed. She feels hot and sticky all over, and that voice is crawling underneath her skin, scratching wildly at her until she’s close enough to smell the sea again.

Come back.

Toph feels herself blink once before she’s right at the window, hands braced on the frame like she’s about to jump out into the darkness.

A snarl rips out of her when she realizes the stupid thing she was about to do, so she raises her palms, snaps the window shut. The voice is there still, occupying a corner of her head.

When she turns around, she ignores the bed completely, heading towards the shower in her bathroom instead.

‘

“Do you hear that?” she asks, tapping her cane irritably against the floor. “The singing? Do you hear it?”

“Toph,” is what Zuko says, careful. “That’s the fourth time you’ve asked that in the past hour. I don’t hear any singing.”  

‘

The frenzied croon in the back of her mind stops, a plucked string on an instrument, once her toes reach soft sand again. She hears the creature’s tail slap against the water in excitement and grinds her teeth together.

Figures it would already be waiting for her.

“What do you fucking want,” Toph hisses furiously, tossing her cane to the side and launching herself in the water towards it with her hands wrapped around it’s throat.

Sharp teeth click together and there’s a beginning of a hiss, but it doesn’t attack her in return.

As she’s choking the creature against a boulder, palms flat against the gills on its neck, she feels a blanket of smooth scales wind around her legs. The movement is coy, and it’s sudden, how much she wishes she could see whatever expression is on it’s face.

There’s a moan that vibrates against her hands – it sounds like a male – and Toph jerks away, scalded. As she’s falling back, she remembers that she’s never learned how to fucking swim, and she’s flailing now, arms wild and chaotic—

He coils his tail around her tighter, his palms framing Toph hips as he gently pulls her back up. There’s webbing between his nimble fingers as he cradles her to his chest, and she feels scales on his arms and shoulders while she instinctively grasps for him. He hums at her soothingly, swaying slightly to the beat of the waves.  

“You—” Toph sputters, wiggling her legs in the strict hold of his tail. “Stop trying to cop a feel, motherfucker!”

The creature – merman – laughs. “You threw yourself at me first.”

“Because you’ve been fucking singing to me for days! You know what you’re doing!”

“How else was I going to get you back here?”

(To me.)

Toph snaps an arm out, her hand grazing the dock. She’s surprised that she’s able to break out of his grip easily as she’s hauling herself over the dock, but she feels fingers in her hair, teasing along her scalp. A curious tug at her hairband has her tresses spilling over either side of her face like wet curtains. She adjusts the askew sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and sniffs.

“Give it back,” Toph snaps.

“I’ve always wondered why humans used these,” he chirps, snapping the band against his wrist because, of course, he’s now wearing it as a bracelet. She hears him swimming forward, hears him folding his arms along the edge of the dock and resting his chin on them. “Hi. I’m Aang.”

‘

Every time Toph goes down to the beach, Aang gives her treasures – sea shells that feel like no other, a string of pearls, lost items that haven’t seen land in centuries.

She gives him a fork, once.

“What’s it called?” he says with absolute marvel in his voice.

Her mouth twitches. “A dinglehopper. I know you don’t have any, but it’s used to brush your hair.”

Toph should have known that wouldn’t deter him in the slightest. She finds herself sprawled flat on the dock minutes later, her hair hanging over the edge and a fork running through her strands as he smoothens out the tangles.

“Are you the kind of merman that eats humans?”

Aang’s hand stills in her hair, hesitating. “Yes, but only the bad ones,” he answers quietly.

“Really?”

“I’ve lived a long time,” he creeps closer, placing a cold hand on her temple, and she smells the sea and the wind on his wet skin. “You’d be surprised at the amount of terrible things that take place at beaches when no one’s looking.”  

Toph raises an inquisitive brow. “How old are you?”

“Oh, I’ve surpassed centuries,” Aang replies, and the buoyancy in his voice is tempered by the wistfulness that manages to seep in, making him sound incredibly lonely.

“You have other friends, right? Mer-friends?

“Yeah! Katara and Sokka – you’d like them, I think – but they don’t live in these parts of the ocean. They’re also busy looking after their tribe, so they don’t have time to travel like me. Not like they used to anyway.”  

“How about family?”

“They died a long time ago.” Fuck, there’s that sadness again – the one that sounds so strange on the merman because he’s always happy. “There was this war and I wasn’t there and – well, I lost them.”

Aang combs his fingers through her hair, fork forgotten, and doesn’t offer any more information other than that. She shouldn’t have brought up family, so she keeps quiet, basking in the sun and letting him braid her hair into whatever style he wants.

Later, when Toph wanders back into the beach house, Zuko blurts out: “Did you braid your hair with seaweed?”

“Huh,” she grins, her fingers absentmindedly touching the filmy, wet thing weaved into her braid, “guess I did.”

‘

There’s a man following her.

Toph hears Aang in her head again, his melodious voice comforting her as if he knows, so she follows the direction his song takes her to until she’s able to hear his sweet singing beyond the comforts of her mind. The man who’s been tracking after her for fifteen minutes stops in place, a shudder wracking through him. The man turns, hypnotized, his body wading into the water.

The song for this man makes Toph’s bones rattle, but it doesn’t make her want to seep herself in frigid water, doesn’t make her want to sink her body deep until she can no longer breathe.

(She wonders why.)

“Hello,” she hears Aang murmur in a honeyed tone that coils around the soul, yanking and claiming. “Why were you following that girl?”

“She was pretty,” the man says and he sounds drugged, like the words are being dragged out of him.

“And what were you going to do to her?”

“Take her back to my place.” She digs her nails into her palm hard enough to pierce skin, anger swelling up in her. “Show her what a real man feels like.”

For a few seconds, Toph hears absolutely nothing.

Even the waves are silent.

Then, teeth rip into warm flesh and the screams coming out of the man’s mouth are awful. He screams and screams as his skin is being pulled and his flesh is being slowly sampled.  

Toph thinks to herself that he deserves this, that he deserves to be chewed and bitten into until he’s nothing but an empty, white husk.

She grips her cane tighter, smearing pinpricks of her own blood against it, when their bodies wrestle along the wet sand. Toph wonders if Aang’s just playing with his food at this point, drawing it out to watch the man struggle in terror. The sound of teeth gnawing on skin grates at her again, and Aang must have ripped out the throat this time because the man doesn’t make a single noise after that.  

“Toph,” comes Aang’s whisper. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine.”  

“You don’t look—”

“I said I’m fine!” she shouts, but then she bursts out into cackles because she doesn’t know how to deal with this. Aang makes a confused noise and wriggles his body closer to her, which must make a ridiculous sight. “I mean, I might just be an accessory to murder. I don’t know. And,” – laughs even harder – “I might even go to prison, but that’s okay, I guess—”

“What’s prison?”

“It’s a place where they keep bad people like murderers or people who help murderers. Sometimes they never get out.”

Aang wraps his fingers around her wrists, pulls her down. Her ass hits the sand and she doesn’t even get to properly process it because he’s already nudging himself into her arms, his tail flopping behind him.

The smell of blood on him is strong, enough to almost make Toph gag, but she snakes her arms around him, slowly pressing her cheek to a copper-scented shoulder blade. He croons a lullaby to her, his palm rubbing circles along her spine.

“You won’t go to prison,” he says, chants – fuck, she doesn’t even know or care at this point – as his damp mouth brushes Toph’s cheek. “His body will never be found when I’m done with him.”  

“They’ll still look for him. This guy’s extremely rich if he’s able to afford a beach house on this island. There’s always a lot of attention when a rich person goes missing—”

“He’ll stay a missing person forever then. They won’t find him. I promise, Toph.”

So, Toph builds a sandcastle and listens to the way Aang easily snaps the bones off the corpse’s body, the way he peels the clumps of flesh off with his fingers and teeth, the way he laps at the river of blood. It’s an hour of just listening to him eat before he gathers up the bones and slips noiselessly back into the ocean.

She inches further down to where the waves leave seafoam against the sand so that Aang doesn’t have a long crawl back to her. When he does eventually come back, he sprawls across her thighs, pressing a sated smile into her hipbone.

Her palm grazes his stomach, expecting a huge bulge—

“The fuck?” Toph grumps, slapping her knuckles this time against a stomach that is obviously flat. “You just ate a whole human! Where did it all go?”

Aang chuckles, the noise sounding like soft bells. 

‘

“You know the guy who owns the house next to ours?” Ty Lee chimes across the table during breakfast. “Something Feng, I think? He’s been missing for two days now. His wife’s hysterical.”

“Wasn’t he the creep who kept trying to talk to you the other day?” Mai says, bored.

“Good riddance,” Azula says mildly. “We don’t need vermin like him stinking up this island, no matter how impressive his net worth is.”

Ty Lee, slightly aghast: “Azula! That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Hey,” Zuko whispers to Toph, “do you know anything about this?”

Toph forks some scrambled eggs into her mouth. “Not a clue,” she throws back with a shrug.

‘

“Just let your head drop back in the water,” Aang instructs, his words curled around a grin as his hands hover behind the back of her scalp. A finger tips her chin towards the sky, allowing her ears to drop beneath the surface, and it’s so fucking weird floating on the water like this. “Don’t make that face, Toph. You said you’d try. It’s not that bad – see, you’re doing it!”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing.”  

Toph lets out a long exhale, trying to keep her limbs extended. It’s the strangest sensation – surrendering herself to biomechanics and water while simultaneously trying not to drown in the process.

“You’re doing so well,” he cheers in a soft murmur, brushing the tips of his fingers across her toes. “Stop,” Toph grits through her teeth, “that tickles. If you make me drown, I’m dragging you down with me.”

“Hmm, yes, drag the merman – who’s lived his entire life in the ocean – down with you,” Aang hums. “That’ll definitely kill him.”

Her retort is ready, but she never gets the chance to say it because Aang abruptly sweeps her into his arms, a violent hiss escaping through his teeth. He’s tense against her, gripping her so tight that it feels like he’s trying to brand his palms into her skin.

“Cute snack you got there,” an unfamiliar voice pipes up. “Care to share?”

“Who are you?” Toph shoots back, but adds in a quieter whisper: “Is he one of your mer-friends, Aang?”

“Oh, yeah, Aang and I go way back.”

“We’re not friends,” Aang says, terse, and the amount of venom coming out of his mouth makes his voice sound like a discordant note. “And she’s not food, Jet. Go somewhere else to feed.”

A loud snort. “She looks like food to me.”

Toph growls, trying to strain her face in Jet’s direction. “Hey, fuck you, seaweed-tits. This ass is off the menu.”

The other merman barks out a laugh and makes a move to swim closer, she thinks, but Aang flicks his tail up in a loud splash, letting out a snarl that vibrates against the back of her skull. Aang sinks his fingers into the back of her thighs, ready to just toss Toph back up onto the pier dock.

“Fine, whatever,” Jet spits derisively, diving back into the water with one last scoff.

Aang carefully lifts her back onto the dock and quickly buries his face against her stomach, his arms coiling around her. Even with the obvious threat gone, he still feels rigid and strained, his tail rolling behind him in agitated circles.  

“Sorry.” It’s muffled against her skin, but Toph feels his mouth shaping the word.

She flicks the center of his temple. “You don’t need to apologize, Kelpbrain.” 

‘

“Do you really have to go?”

(Please don’t go.)

“Yeah,” Toph says, rueful, letting him press his palm to the arch of her foot. He’s holding onto her foot like he wants to keep her forever. “My school’s starting again in a few weeks. I have to go back.”

“Where’s this school of yours?”

“It’s in Ba Sing Se, a city in China. Have you heard of it?”

The prolonged, forlorn stretch of silence implies that Aang has not heard of either Ba Sing Se or China in his entire life.

“I’ll come back,” she promises, reaching out a hand only to have it automatically clasped within his. “After the semester ends, I’ll convince my parents to fly me out here if I have to, okay?”

Aang lifts his other hand to Toph’s face, curving it against her cheek and pressing his thumb to the bow of her mouth. “It’ll be colder when you come back,” he says, his voice small and vulnerable to her ears. “The beach will be too cold for you.”

“Please, like that’s ever stopped you before. You’ll just screech a song in my head until I come to you.”  

“I could follow you—”

“No.” Toph’s not even sure he knows how to. “Even if you somehow managed to find me, there’ll be too many people. It won’t be a private island like this. If someone sees you, they’ll want to catch you and you could end up in the wrong hands.”

She’s wearing a nice dress – the others wanted to celebrate their last night on Ember Island by eating at some fancy restaurant – and Aang knows that the material swathed around her skin is worth a hefty amount. He pulls her into the water anyway, snaking his tail around her legs like he’d done the first day they met.

“Do you have to go,” Aang mouths against her shoulder, snuffling.

Toph nods, tightening her arms around his neck. “I’ll come back. Don’t cry on me now, idiot.”

She’s sopping wet when she returns back to the beach house (“That was an expensive dress,” Azula hisses, snatching Toph’s wrist and dragging her up the stairs to find a new one—) and her chest feels heavier, buried under the weight of saltwater. 

‘

(Aang sings out to her when she leaves the island and it has her eyes stinging behind her shades until his bereft voice fades from her head altogether.) 

‘

“You okay?”

“Zuko, you really need to stop asking me that.”

“It’s just—” Sighs, thinks of what to say. “You’re always…studying. You never want to go out with us anymore.”

“What, is it a crime to study now?”

“No, it’s like you’re forcing yourself to keep busy. You’ve been like this since we left Ember Island. What the hell happened there?”

“Hate to break it to you, but most kids get depressed when their summer breaks end. It’s no big deal.” 

‘

The shower in Toph’s apartment has a tub built into it and she’s never really had any use for it in the past. These days, she’s grown comfortable with filling the tub with water and just letting herself sink into it.

She slouches to bury her nose into the water, inhales to feel the sting—

And there’s no beautiful song that curls gently around Toph’s skin. There’s no salt in the water that she’s grown so used to smelling. There are no scales slipping against her legs.

“Fuck,” Toph murmurs because she hates this, hates feeling this way. 

‘

When Toph hears him one December afternoon, just a whisper at the back of her mind, she pivots off the street and walks until her cane is tapping against sand. There are a few others on the beach in spite of the weather, but his dulcet hymn leads her farther and farther away from the general public. She stops at a patch of large rocks, her heart skipping at the sound of a tail splashing.

“You stupid, stupid fish,” Toph says, but she’s smiling so wide that it actually hurts. The answer she receives is a happy trill, the noise echoing that of a friendly dolphin. “There are people here.”

“I found an alcove nearby,” Aang lifts his hand from the water, wiggling his fingers at her. “Come with me? No one will find us there.”  

“How did you even find me?” And, fucking hell, navigating through these jagged rocks is really something Toph should not be doing, but she finds his hand halfway and tangles their fingers together.

“Sokka helped me figure out where China was. Oh, he wants to meet you by the way! He thinks you’re cool.”

“For a human?”

“In general,” Aang says, sounding so happy. “But yeah, for a human too.”

Aang carefully lures her into the water and it’s fucking cold, but he’s pressing warm kisses to her mouth, so much that she doesn’t mind that she’s wholly surrounded by the sea in the dead of winter.

[greencrusader13]

All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 12 - The Job

This chapter is one in which Cirak’s...tendencies come a bit more out to play, and as such I tweaked the chapter a bit for my audience on FF.net compared to my audience on AO3, since the former has the fic at a rating of T while the other has an M rating. Please keep that in mind when clicking a link to follow. The chapter below is the T-version, so if you want the more risque version go to the story on AO3.

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13118981/12/All-Were-Innocent-Once

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043032/chapters/66526336

Summary: having now been assisted by the bounty hunter Braden and his associate - a Mandalorian by the name of Dekon Arrun - Cirak listens to their proposition, one that might entail a payday unlike any he’s earned before.

“So let me get this straight,” Cirak said, watching the swirling ice cubes in his glass like racers around a track as he flicked his wrist. “You want our help tracking down an infamous criminal who - supposedly - has near unlimited resources, his own private army of paid mercenaries, and is known for being able to vanish without a trace the moment anyone shows up on his doorstep.” He leveled Braden with an inquisitive look as he downed the remainder of his alcohol. “Sounds easy enough. Why can’t you and the wonder-Mando do it?”

Cirak shot a glance towards the Mandalorian as he mentioned him, Braden’s answer fading into the background as he searched. He’d taken to a booth alone at the far side of the cantina, back turned to the ambience it so welcomingly provided. It felt like a small slice of Nar Shaddaa jam-packed into a desert hovel, unclean to the point of pungency and so loud he could barely hear either of his companions when they spoke, not that he paid them much attention anyways. Mere feet away from their table a green-skinned twi’lek woman made her way around center-stage as violet light illuminated her aggressively-sensuous movements. On occasion she’d shed another article of what little clothing she already wore, eliciting a whoop or holler from the patrons, Cirak himself included.

The dancer drew closer, and for the briefest of moments they locked eyes.  “You come here often?” she asked in Huttese, her voice barely audible over the din of the music.

“Not often enough,” he responded in kind. “Maybe I should start, if the desert really holds such beauty.” Cirak flashed a rakish smile and raised his glass to her.

She winked, and then returned to her dance.

Grinning, Cirak turned his gaze back to Dekon, who had now taken apart his blaster on the table, either oblivious or - worse - disinterested by the life around them. Stupid Mando doesn’t know how to have fun, Cirak thought, watching the dancer’s body move around the shimmering pole.

Taelros snapped his fingers in front of Cirak’s face, breaking him from the trance. “Kid, when you ask for clarification, don’t let your ears wander with your eyes. These gals aren’t anything you wouldn’t find anywhere else in the galaxy, and with the right job you could buy yourself a hundred dances. Now pay attention: there’s credits to be earned.”

“It’s alright Tael,” Braden said, raising a calming hand. “We’ve all been young before. Although-” he leveled a stern look at Cirak- “Bounty hunters who let themselves think with anything other than their heads tend to not last very long in the business. Keep that in mind.”

“Braden, you have no idea how often this kid thinks with just his blaster, if you follow my understanding. A few years back on Onderon-”

“Stars not this again.”

Taelros took a drink and waved Cirak off. “It’s a fun story, but we shouldn’t get sidetracked any longer. Not when there’s credits to be earned. To save Braden the time of recapping, in short, Cirak, too many hostiles for a two man job, too closely guarded for something requiring precision. And we have more resources than them, what with Meruna and Deim making up for what they lack in specialized roles. We’ll hit hard and hit fast before he can flee and vanish again.”

“Rell Syrn rarely ever sticks around for very long in one place for very long,” Braden continued, “He tends to avoid drawing attention to himself. Keeps away from personally conducting business on overly-populated planets like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa and sends agents whenever he can. Has a pleasure yacht that nobody ever boards and that he very rarely ever leaves, which he keeps floating around various moons around the galaxy for short spans of time. Never the same one twice. Has a hobby for trophy hunting large game, which is when we’re gonna hit him.” He reached into his pocket and produced a holomap, which he displayed on the table. “He’ll be heading to Cholganna next.”

Cirak leaned in closer, studying the forest planet. “So...what, he’s gonna hunt Nexu? Hardly a unique hobby.”

Braden shook his head. “Cholganna has an indigineous population that’s not yet achieved spaceflight. Separate tribes and whatnot. Hardly capable of resisting blasterfire or more advanced toys.” He pursed his lips, allowing his expression to tell the rest.

“Ah. So he’s scum.”

“Pretty much, but that’s not why we’re getting paid to take him down,” Taelros said. 

“Last week some corsairs under his employ struck an Imperial stealth cruiser. Usual raid and whatnot, except they found something on there that the Imps want back. Badly. Some sort of information they were carrying really wasn’t supposed to fall into anyone else’s hands. And he recognizes it too; supposedly he killed all the corsairs who were on the raid just to keep it from leaking out. They don’t want him alive. Dead only, six million credits.”

Cirak’s eyes bulged at the bounty value, and he gagged on his drink. He wiped the spillage from his lips with the back of his hand. “I’m kriffing sorry, how much?”

“Six million, kid. Split six ways is a million for each of us.” Taelros smirked. “Now aren’t you glad you’re listening to me and not oogling some dancer?”

“Don’t blame me for knowing how to spend a good time, unlike Mando-boy over there.” Cirak pointed back at the Mandalorian’s booth with his thumb.

Braden’s gaze drifted over to where Dekon sat. “You ever heard of the Great Hunt, Kiht?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It started out as a Mandalorian tradition out on Dxun, but has since opened up to any interested bounty hunters in the galaxy. You’re given the hardest contracts, the most dangerous of the dangerous, and have to hunt them down. At the end a Grand Champion is determined the winner. Rumor has it that Mandalore is considering holding another one soon.” Braden pointed at Dekon, who was just finishing loading a blaster pistol. “That man right there is the next Grand Champion, I guarantee it.”

Cirak shrugged, grimacing. “He doesn’t seem like all that to me.”

“He has hunter’s instincts like nothing I’ve ever seen. Brains just as much as brawn. I’d bet credits on him to take down a rancor with just his fists if the wager came up.”

“Then why doesn’t he just do this himself?”

Braden took a drink. “Like I said, this job has accentuated circumstances.”

“You sure it isn’t a trap? This job I mean. If the Imps want this data so badly, and it’s this valuable, what’s stopping them from just offing us once it’s done?”

Taelros shrugged. “We can burn that bridge when we get to it. Meanwhile, if we get this done right, and if we don’t get double-crossed, we’ll have good friends in the Galactic Empire, plus some cash for spending.”

Cash for spending felt almost like an insulting understatement. During all his years since joining Taelros’ crew, he’d never been a part of a job that held such a vast reward. Most of their contractors were petty crime lords wanting a rival dealt with, or some local government putting a warrant out on someone too dangerous for their own people to handle. On a rare occasion they’d get a contract from a Hutt, but those situations were far and few between. Even then, most of their earnings just went right back to The Reaper’s Prophet for upkeep, or towards their own resupplying for future jobs. By the time things were said and done, he had little money of his own for spending. When he did…

Cirak nodded towards Taelros. “Was the contact at the spaceport, the one for Woth?”

“Yeah, he was, and I’ve forwarded your credits to your account. Already did the deductions for you this time. Go do your thing.”

“What’s this?” asked Braden.

“It’s nothing. Not worth-”

Before he could finish speaking, cheers erupted from across the cantina again. He looked up in time to see the dancer twirl one final time in a rush of silver and scarlet cloth. She bowed, and then strode confidently back behind a curtain on the stage’s end.

Cirak smirked. “I’ll be outside. As wonderful as the sights are in here, I think I might get too distracted when the next one hits the stage.”

“You do that kid,” Taelros said, rising to his feet simultaneously with Cirak. “Braden and I will finish loading up the ship, get her spaceworthy by tomorrow. Might even try to pick up a few more bounties while we’re here.” He shoved a stern-yet-playful finger into Cirak’s chest. “Have your fun, but make sure you’re aboard before we take off. I don’t want a repeat of Chandrila.”

“For the record Tael, you’re the one who took off without checking if I was on board.” Cirak yelled back as he turned, waving a playful farewell as he moved across the cantina. “And it was worth it! You wouldn’t have wanted that noise on the ship!” From the corner of his eye he saw the Mando turn towards the noise, his unseen eyes watching Cirak from beneath the helmet. He could only imagine the glare the armored mercenary was shooting at him. Cirak felt his own mood sour at the sight, even amid the music and lights. He pressed on.

Once outside, Cirak stopped and looked around. Mos Ila had grown quieter as dusk approached. Earlier the streets had been filled with an eclectic mix of all the strange species the galaxy had to offer, bartering and browsing and aimlessly wandering about. Most had returned to their homes; only a small collection of three Jawas remained visible on the block, poking away at some dysfunctional droid they would later take and scrap for parts; it sat there lethargically, seemingly oblivious to its inevitable fate. 

Off in the distance a binary sunset colored the sky in hues of orange and violet. It had a sort of contemplative calm to it. Such natural beauty was uncommon on typical adventures, and for a moment it took Cirak by surprise. He could only stare in silence, watching enraptured as they inched closer to the horizon line. Something stirred in his chest, a longing he hadn’t felt for several years

Cirak shook his head and returned to his task, removing his personal holopad from his pack and logging onto the holonet. The banner at the top of the familiar website read “Coruscant Horizons Mutual: Your #1 provider for all your banking needs” in thick black lettering, the skyline of the planet clear in the background. A mixed family stood in the foreground, the human mother holding up her daughter while a Mirialan father stood beside them with his hand on his wife’s shoulder. Typical image crap, meant to deceive the average person into unearned trust, true of any bank. In reality any banker would set fire to that little family if it meant turning more of a profit. He may be the one killing people for money, but at least he was honest about it.

Sure enough, just as Taelros had said, the earnings from their most recent hunt had been transferred into his account, all eight thousand credits-worth. At least a thousand of that would go to armor maintenance, and another thousand for his blaster pack refills. He frowned, staring at his current balance of fourteen thousand credits, soon to be even less. The swoop bike he’d seen on the holonet had been twelve thousand. If he withheld his normal plans he could afford it, barely. The thought egged him on, the bike’s roar calling him like a siren’s song. 

He blocked it out with a sigh, and continued on with his usual routine. It would have to be some other time. Cirak tapped the link that read “transfer” and selected the alternate account with the new funds.

“Are you sure you would like to transfer four thousand credits to the account “Tyar’s Savings” Mr. Kiht?”

Cirak tapped “confirm” and leaned back. He wasn’t even sure if Jedi were allowed banking accounts, or if their life of monasticism prevented them from having any personal belongings. They already lead such a restricted life, one that Cirak himself couldn’t imagine living. Perhaps they’d brainwashed him into all of their tenets, maybe he didn’t even remember his own brother, but either way the money would be there for him when he came of age.

He glanced back down at the screen. “Would you like to include a message for this transaction?”

Cirak tensed, then leaned back over his holopad. “Hey kid, hope Jedi training is going well-”

He immediately backspaced. The message sounded dumb, especially for having no contact for the past several years.

“Brother, I hope this message finds you wel-”

Backspace.

“Tyar, I’m sorry I haven’t reached o-”

Backspace.

“Take this kriffing money.”

Backspace.

Cirak sighed, refreshed the page, and then declined to send a message. If Tyar wanted to make contact another time it would be his decision, not Cirak’s. The best he could hope for was that the kid would seek him out when the time came, and that both would still be alive for that reunion.

While his holopad remained open, Cirak decided to check his mail. There was already a confirmation regarding his transfer, complete with a hackneyed thank you message from the bank, which he promptly checked for deletion. He scrolled down, deleting as he went. Most of the messages were junk anyways: advertisements for various weaponry he could find at suppliers around the galaxy, new starfighter models worth checking out, possible clients reaching out to him not realizing that he wasn’t the one who handled the new jobs, etc. One message caught Cirak’s eye, though, from a Zeltron man he’d spent time with on Manaan. The message was flirtatious in nature, requesting that Cirak look him up again if he should even be on that side of the planet again. As sweet as it was that this paramour had taken the time to look him up, Cirak only remembered parts of that night, even if those parts were good and involved drinks and dancing. He deleted that piece of mail too.

Tucking his holopad away, Cirak made his way back to the cantina. A new dancer - some human woman with blonde hair and tanned skin - had taken the stage while a fresh series of beats accentuated her steps. Tael and Braden were both gone, their seats taken by a pair of faces Cirak had seen earlier at the bar who now had their holopads out, burning credits that flickered onto the stage and floated down around the dancer as they were spent. Some thugs pushed each other in front of the bar, attracting the attention of a weequay bouncer, whose approach turned them docile once more and retreated back to their seats.

And still the Mandalorian sat in his corner booth with his back to the action, the contents of his own pack strewn out on the table.

Cirak took a seat across from him, waving down a waitress as he did. The Mandalorian didn’t even bother to look up from his assortment of junk, instead continuing to wipe at his rifle with unwavering devotion. There were at least five blaster rifle packs on the table, along with three hunting vibroblades, a thermal detonator, and various blaster parts.

“You know, in most cantinas you can get thrown out for this kind of weaponry being out in the open,” Cirak said. The Mandalorian said nothing in response, not even so much as an acknowledging grunt. “Come on, you can do maintenance when you’re on the ship. You’re missing out on the fun right now.”

The Mandalorian looked up for a moment, then turned his head back towards the dancer. “Not my idea of fun.”

“Of course it isn’t. You Mandos don’t have a concept of fun.”

“I’m focused on what’s ahead of me. The hunt. The fact that I’m focusing on that instead of skirt-chasing is what’s going to keep me around much longer than you.” He slammed a pack into his rifle and then set it on the table.

Cirak rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter how much focus you have when things can go kriffing sideways on any given job. Might as well enjoy life while you’re living it, or else when will you?”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “Mir’osik. Short-sighted.”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, so don’t bother.”

“That you don’t speak it is the point.”

“Look,” Cirak said, leaning over the table, “I’m not any happier about working with you on this than you are, but it looks like we’re going to be stuck together for awhile, so can you cool it before I feel like putting a blaster bolt through your skull? After this job’s done we can go our separate ways, forget the other exists, and maybe, if we’re lucky, we can wind up shooting at each other on some later job when we’re on opposite sides. Okay?”

The crimson helmet twitched, and Cirak could feel the heat of the Mandalorian’s glare from underneath it. “Let’s not forget that you insulted me first when you insulted my people,” his voice crackled.

“And your people massacred mine generations ago.”

“You see history only through the lens supplied by the Republic and the remnants of your species. That you are descended from people who survived mine should fill you with pride. It speaks that you have a survivor’s soul.”

Cirak opened his mouth to speak, but found himself without words. While he found the words themselves insensitive, there was resembling complete sincerity in Dekon’s words. Without the genocidal context, it bordered on being a compliment, however harsh the tone might’ve been.

He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t want to spend my evening arguing with a warmonger. I-”

Sounds of conflict drew his attention away from his soon-to-be associate and towards the bar. The previous dancer - now clad in a more modest lounge robe - stood across from a group of three armored humans, her arms folded with a drink in hand. From the appearance of their scrappier designs and cavalcade of scars across their face, it was clear that these three were outlaws of some kind, or at least individuals as used to braving the dangers of the galaxy as Cirak was himself. Their leader wore a coy expression as he spoke to the dancer, though there was no amusement in her face, but rather one of annoyance-bordering-contempt. One partner kept a stern eye on the bouncer and a hand on his blaster, while the other seemed equally amused as the ringleader.

“I’ll be back,” Cirak said, rising.

Their words became clearer as Cirak approached. “For the last time that’s not the kind of work I do,” the dancer said, still speaking Huttese.

“Come on baby, just think of it like a different kind of pole, different kind of dance,” the man said, albeit in Basic. “Don’t be such a tease. I’ve been throwing credits at you all night. Isn’t that a good enough deed for some time with you?”

“I said no. I dance, that’s it, and I don’t spend time with people just because they think their credits mean something. Go away and let me enjoy my break in peace.”

He lunged for her wrist. “Aw you don’t have to-”

His sentence ended prematurely as the contents of the dancer’s drink found his face. “Don’t touch me!” she seethed, backing away.

The bouncer started forward, causing the one minion to start for his blaster. Cirak found his own first - his father’s holdout - unholstering it and shooting the thug’s right out of his hand. All eyes in the cantina turned towards him, the atmosphere now tense from the sound of blaster fire. Despite the blasting beats from the speakers around him, the cantina felt dead quiet.

Meanwhile the bouncer searched himself for a blaster wound with apparent wonder that he hadn’t just been shot.

“Now that I have your attention,” Cirak said, “I think you owe this lady an apology. She’s been working hard all night up on that stage, so when she says for you to leave her alone, you do what she says.” He leveled the blaster at the leader as he stepped between them and the dancer, lining the sights right up with the man’s eyes.

The leader looked to his crew, then back to Cirak with a cocked eyebrow. “Do you have any idea who it is you’re talking to? We’re the-”

“Yeah yeah, some idiots who’re feared around these parts. Take what you want, want what you take. Heard it before. Shot them too.”

“We have you three-to-one.”

Cirak glanced between the three men. “I like those odds,” he growled, “I’ll have you all dropped before your buddy there pulls out that other blaster from the back of his pants.”

The group’s leader scoffed and looked back at his men as though this were the most ludicrous thing they’d encountered together. They chuckled along with him and shrugged. Then, at once, they drew. 

It all happened in seconds. Cirak brought his blaster down hard on the leader’s nose, shattering it. The man crumpled with a pained grunt, dropping his own weapon in the process, and as he fell Cirak turned his attention to the pair behind him. They couldn’t react fast enough to their leader falling out of the way of their aim, and it took them a moment too long to readjust. Cirak’s first shot found the leftmost one right square in the forehead. He made no sound as he fell, dead instantaneously. 

Just as he was taking aim on the third the man another shot rang out, striking the thug in the chest, the force of which sent him careening over the bar counter. Cirak turned. There, still in the booth, sat Dekon of Clan Arrun, still looking through the scope of his blaster rifle. Without a word or even a gesture he set the rifle back down on the table and began cleaning it once more.

The rush of gratitude faded quickly, however, as Cirak turned his attention to the groaning man at his feet. Blood streaked down the thug’s nose and mouth as he looked up with hatred and fear in his eyes. “My men! You shot my men!”

“Career hazard. They should’ve known better.”

“You kriffing alien!”

“You really should know better than to insult a man who’s got a blaster aimed at your brain,” Cirak said. He pulled out his holopad and opened it to the Bounty Hunters’ Guild database. “What’s your name there handsome?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing.”

Cirak pushed his blaster to the man’s forehead. “I can just shoot you now if you’d prefer.”

The man was silent for a few moments longer. “Antelv. Antelv Langot.”

He entered the name into the database and scanned Antelv’s face. Several long seconds passed as it searched for anyone in the trillions of the galactic population who may have angered someone enough to place a bounty on their head, and which planets they were known for frequenting. 

No results.

“Well Antelv, seems no one has any strong preference for whether or not you live or die in this unforgiving existence, so I’m gonna let the lady decide.” Cirak looked over to the dancer. “What do you say,” he asked in Huttese, “Lives, or dies?”

“I’m sorry,” Antelv croaked, sending bloody spittle across the cantina floor. “I’m sorry!”

The dancer gave a cursory glance over the pathetic man bleeding in front of her, then nodded to Cirak. “Let him live with the humiliation you’ve shown him.”

Cirak shrugged. “Well, her decision’s final.” Just as a weary smile crept onto Antelv’s face, Cirak brought his blaster down once more on his skull, knocking him out cold. His unconscious form sprawled out onto the floor, and around them people began turning their heads away from the scene. Music took their focus once more, and life returned to the cantina. The bouncer approached, threw Antelv over his shoulder, and then vanished outside.

The dancer took a seat at the bar, draping one of her green lekku over her shoulder. “Thanks for the help,” she said, “Not often we see patrons here who are brave and handsome.”

“Not a problem.” Cirak twirled his blaster, holstering it. “Ordinarily I’d ask if I could take the seat next to you, but given the circumstances…” He glanced down to the bloody puddle by his feet.

“His problem was thinking that credits could control me,” she said, “I dance because it’s fun and I choose who I spend time with because I want to, not because I’m paid.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides he was quite rude, and you’re quite cute. So by all means, take a seat.”

Cirak smirked, taking the stool next to her while looking her over. “Seems he spilled your drink. How about I buy you a new one? The name’s Cirak, Cirak Kiht, and I’d love to get your name too.”

[avatarnao]

A Million Dreams CH. 1

Pairing: Zukka, Kataang

Soulmate AU, College AU, Roommates AU

Next

A03

******

There’s a lot of back and forth with Katara and his family, but eventually Sokka is able to convince them to let him move in on his own. It’s sophomore year and he doesn’t need them cramming into a tiny dorm room, taking up more space than necessary, okay? Sokka just wants to get to his room, meet his new roommate, and get unpacked. Maybe run to the dining hall and grab some lunch. Or dinner. Whatever meal is happening by the time he gets there. 

Unfortunately, his plans to meet the roomie are thwarted, the grin on his face and ‘hello’ on the tip of his tongue dying out the moment he opens the door. His roomie’s been here if the immaculately made bed, and almost compulsively organized desk is any indication. Only the room is empty so Sokka can only assume the guy is out and about. 

It’s a little discouraging, but Sokka can live with this. Might be better to unpack on his own anyway. He just hopes his roommate isn’t a neat freak considering the neverending mess that is his room back home. There’s going to be a lot of arguments in the future if that’s the case. Hopefully, some sort of compromise can be reached. 

Sokka gets to work unpacking his things and getting his side of the room set up. He’s sure his roommate wouldn’t appreciate him leaving boxes all over the place to unpack later. The text chime on his phone goes off just as he’s placing a poster on the wall. He checks his phone and finds a message from Yue.

She’s asking if he wants to meet up for dinner. Grinning, he texts her back with a time to meet up and which dining hall. In all honesty, he’d been planning on going alone to try and make some new friends. Having dinner with Yue though is something he can’t pass up. She’s likely to be in the music hall for most of the semester so this might be their only chance to meet up before classes start. 

He has an hour until dinner though, and so he gets to work making his bed and organizing his desk. It’s way more work than he’d normally do, but he doesn’t want to make a bad first impression with his roomie… who still hasn’t returned. 

Zuko. He reminds himself. His roommate’s name is Zuko, and he has got to stop calling him ‘the roommate’. Sokka just hopes they can be amicable towards each other. The last thing he wants is to be living with another Jet. 

Sokka does his best to make his side of the room as neat and organized as possible, then leaves to meet up with Yue.

******

The dining hall is packed by the time Sokka and Yue make it inside. He’s hardly surprised. This is the most popular of the three on campus. They wander through the crowd, looking for an empty table and eventually find one in the back near the windows. Sokka promptly slaps his bag down on the surface and they leave to get food. 

A group of what he assumes to be freshmen watch him go with wide eyes and he laughs a little. They always say not to leave stuff unattended at the tables, but he’s long since gotten over that fear. Nobody in his year or higher seems to care about such a thing and he certainly would never steal someone’s stuff. If someone took his table, though, he’d be fuming. 

Yue goes for the sushi. Sokka settles with loading his plate up with meat kebabs. Sushi is all well and good, but he spent the entire summer consuming Water Tribe cuisine. No… he’s been looking forward to food from the other nations to try out. He takes a moment to chat with some of the dining hall staff, surprised to find Suki of all people working the line. She introduces him to a few new faces before he needs to return to his dinner date with Yue. 

Suki gives him a playful shove, eyes rolling as he walks away from her station. She knows Sokka isn’t serious about Yue. Not like that at least. Yue is gorgeous, for sure, and at one point, he thought maybe there was something there. That was before she confessed to having met her soulmate. The news crushed him a little but they’ve managed to stay good friends and he’s more than happy with that arrangement. 

Dinner passes with them getting caught up and sharing stories from over the summer. Sokka’s summer was full of fishing and teaching some of the younger kids how to hunt out on the ice. Yue taught piano and singing lessons to children of nobles.They exchange schedules so they can plan to meet up at some point in the future, though Sokka knows it’s likely to fall through given their classes. Still, it’s the thought that counts, and they can always meet up for a study session if needed. 

Suki has long since finished her shift and joined them for a late dinner by the time they're leaving. The pair part ways with Yue so she can head over to the music room. He’s not even sure if the academic buildings are even open, but Yue’s pretty dedicated to her music. Sokka and Suki head back to their dorm to relax before classes start on Tuesday. 

“I heard there’s a new tea shop in town,” Suki says as their conversation drifts away from classes. She’s walking along one of those low walls along the sidewalk that people love to sit on. “We should go check it out some time.” 

“The one that opened over the summer?” Sokka asks and she nods. “Yeah, I think Aang was talking about it earlier. Said the tea there was the best. I’d be down for going.” 

“Bring your roommate so we can all meet him?” Sokka scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“I haven’t even met the guy,” he tells her. 

“Oh…” Suki gets to the end of the wall and jumps down. “Has he not moved in yet?” 

“He moved in before me but he wasn’t there when I arrived,” he answers with a shrug. “Guess he’s just busy… or something.” Only… Sokka vaguely recalls something about Zuko being a transfer student. So… maybe he’s been getting familiar with campus, or making some new friends? He shrugs again. “I’m sure I’ll run into him soon enough since we live together. Maybe he’ll be okay with joining us.” Assuming he isn’t busy with his own stuff. 

“Remind me again why you didn’t just room with Haru?” she asks. Sokka sighs. So… in reality, he and Haru probably would’ve been great roommates. Sokka would’ve done it in a heartbeat but Haru wanted to move off campus and he just wasn’t ready for that. Besides, rooming with a random person just means more opportunity to make new friends, and maybe meet his soulmate, of course. 

“I wanted another year on campus, remember?” Suki hums but still looks unconvinced. She would’ve just moved off campus if she were in his position. Jet would’ve turned anyone off from having a roommate again. Thankfully, Sokka believes in second chances. Also, not everyone is Jet. 

“How’s Katara liking her new place?” Suki asks, and the conversation turns to their small group of friends. 

He invites Suki back to his room which she kindly turns down. Something about needing to finish unpacking. 

Much to Sokka’s surprise, his room is currently occupied. By someone he can only assume is his roommate given the guy’s half-naked appearance. Sokka’s gaze starts first at the towel wrapped around his waist, then follows water droplets up his stupidly toned abs, and obscenely muscular arms to land on his surprised gaze. He feels his face grow warm as they stare silently at each other before Sokka abruptly steps out of the room and shuts the door. 

He stares at the door wondering what the hell he’s doing. This is his room too! They’re going to be living together for the next year, and they sure as hell will be times they see each other half-naked! If he can’t survive this then it’s going to be a long year.

Thankfully, his roommate has gotten dressed in the time he spent outside having a crisis, donning a simple red tunic and pants. Fire Nation, then, Sokka determines, glancing quickly over Zuko’s side. Other than his clothes, nothing else seems to reveal his heritage. Makes Sokka wonder at that but he chooses not to ask. For now at least. He’ll ask when they’ve gotten to know each other better. 

Zuko’s sitting at his desk, headphones on and blaring music loud enough Sokka can hear the lyrics. Okay so… not exactly the best first impression, but he wishes he could at least introduce himself properly. Sokka peaks over his shoulder as he moves into the room, curious over what Zuko is furiously scribbling into his book. He must get too close because his companion freezes and then quickly snaps the book shut, turning to glare at the person behind him. The music cuts off suddenly. 

“Can I help you?” Zoku growls. 

“Sorry…” Sokka steps away from him and over to his bed. Zuko’s still watching him and he finally notices the very large and entirely unmistakable scar on his face. It looks pretty gnarly and he wonders vaguely if Zuko can even see out of that eye but he wisely chooses not to comment. Instead, he flops onto his bed and says, “I’m Sokka by the way. Nice to meet you officially.”

Zuko hums. There’s a long beat of silence where Sokka thinks the conversation may have ended. He groans and Sokka watches his roommate slide down in his chair, hands on his face. 

“Why am I so bad at this?” he hisses under his breath. He’s trying to be discrete but it’s loud enough that Sokka can hear it. Sokka stares at his phone and pretends like he didn’t hear the comment. Zuko mutters something else that he definitely doesn’t hear and then replies, “I’m… uh...Zuko?” 

Sokka snorts. He can’t help it, and he can’t help the tiny laugh that bursts out of him. Zuko frowns, turns back toward his desk, and okay… now Sokka just feels bad. 

“Sorry,” he says, waving a hand in the air. “Didn’t mean to laugh. I just… are you telling me your name or asking?” Zuko huffs. 

“No, I…” A hand brushes through his hair and he sighs again. “I’m just not good with meeting new people…” A beat of silence. “Sorry…” 

“You don’t need to apologize, man,” Sokka tells him, waving the apology off. Zuko turns around again. Sokka gives him a reassuring smile. “I get it. Meeting new people is hard especially when they’re about to spend a whole year crammed in a tiny room together.” The tiniest possible smile Sokka’s ever seen wiggles onto Zuko’s face. It’s gone just a second later. 

“So… uh… what are you studying?” Zuko asks. 

“I haven’t decided on a major yet…” he confesses. “Sort of stuck between a few different options. You?” 

“I’m studying art therapy.” 

“Oh, cool.” Sokka isn’t too sure what to say to that, other than it sounds like a hard major. He’s honestly surprised that Zuko’s studying something so… artsy? Especially considering how… not art-esque his side of the room is. If Sokka had to guess a major, it probably would have been business related or something. Hell, he doesn’t even have any posters on the walls. If it weren’t for his very obvious Fire Nation attire, Sokka’s not even sure he’d know where his roommate was from. Not that it matters, but still... Zuko’s half of the room is as impersonal as they can get. Guy likes his privacy, Sokka supposes. 

He wonders if Zuko’s a firebender.

“What got you into that?” he asks instead, unwilling to pry into that subject just yet. Zuko shrugs. 

“Art really helped me through some… things,” he answers. “So I wanted to use it to help others.” Curiosity makes him want to ask about it but the scar on his face is probably a big indicator of what happened. Also, asking would be rude and Gran-Gran would no doubt scold him for prying into a sensitive subject.

Instead, Sokka directs the conversation to class schedules. They take the time to go over when each of them wake up every day. Surprisingly (or maybe, unsurprisingly) Zuko has a strict wake up schedule of the literal ass crack of dawn. He likes to get an early start to the day regardless of his plans which only means it’ll translate to the weekends as well, much to Sokka’s dismay. Weekends are Sokka’s down days, okay? He likes to stay up late and sleep until noon. 

Zuko swears he’ll be quiet, which Sokka has no reason to not trust so he goes along with it. It won’t be a problem anyways unless Zuko also goes to bed early which he reassures he definitely does not. 

Sokka admits he’s pretty messy because it doesn’t hurt to tell the person he’s rooming with. He promises to be as clean as possible though so it doesn’t disrupt anyone; something Zuko is visibly appreciative of. 

At some point, Zuko moves to his own bed and the lights are turned off. Silences between conversations grow longer until both boys eventually fall asleep. 

He finds himself swimming deep into the depths of the ocean. Something swims ahead, close enough to make out the shadow but too far to distinguish whatever it is. Still, he finds himself drawn to the creature. 

The water grows colders.

It grows darker. 

Still he swims.

Reaching.

Chasing. 

Trying in vain to catch up to something… something he knows, deep down is important. Whatever’s in front of him is the thing he’s been searching an entire lifetime for yet it eludes him.

Remains too far out of reach until its shadow blends into the darkness of the ocean. 

He finds himself alone.

[fangirlingtodeath513]

In honor of Avatar: The Last Airbender coming to Netflix, have a Destiel AU :D

read here on ao3

The tribe is buzzing for weeks before the Avatar’s arrival. It’s been a long time since they’ve had an Avatar from the Fire Nation, and not since before the Hundred Years War. The death of the last Avatar from the Fire Nation had sent the world spiraling into war, and Dean’s tribe had been decimated. He’d watched his own mother die at the hands of a deranged fire bender, and his father had been killed years later by a warring tribe. He and Sam had grown up homeless, living off what they could find until they stumbled upon Bobby and Ellen’s tribe one day. They’d been welcomed in like family despite being nothing more than two lost boys.

Still, as he dons his green attire and washes his face (at Ellen’s insistence), he’s excited. He’s never met an Avatar. This new Avatar, Castiel, is the same age as Dean—twenty-four, give or take a few months depending on when Castiel’s birthday is—and this is his grand introduction to the world. He’ll prove to the world that he’s mastered all four elements at the end of the month but for now, he’s making the rounds through all the different tribes around the world. This week, he’s visiting the different Earth tribes. He’s already seen some of them and Dean’s heard good things from friends in farther villages—he’s kind, he’s gorgeous, his smile is to die for—but he’ll make those judgments for himself. Hell, maybe this guy will spectacularly fail his demonstration at the end of the month, who knows. 

“Don’t forget your face,” Ellen says with a smile as she stands in the doorway of his room, radiating pride. He smiles softly and hods up his washcloth to prove that he’s already washed his face. “No,” she says, laughing and holding up the tub of ink that Dean’s only seen a few times in passing. “It’s tradition, you, Sam, and Bobby will all be wearing it. Jo too. The Avatar wants to honor his fellow benders.”

Dean inclines his head just barely, then tilts his up and closes his eyes so Ellen can carefully paint the ink along the waterlines of his eyes, as well as in intricate swirls across his forehead and cheekbones. A quick look in the mirror when she’s done confirms that it’s a good look on him if he does say so himself.

The main area of the village isn’t far from the home they live in with Bobby and Ellen. Sam practices his bending on the walk there, three rocks swirling in the air over his hand, his face pursed in a look of utter concentration. It’s kind of adorable, even on an adult like Sam. 

“You ready to see him?” Charlie whispers, elbowing Dean in the side. Dean glances at her and grins.

“Hell yeah. Never seen a fire bender in real life, much less and Avatar. Should be pretty cool. I just hope he’s not an asshole.”

Charlie laughs. “I’ve only ever heard good things. Anna wrote me a letter and said he’s dreamy, although I don’t think that’ll matter much to me,” she says with a giggle, eyes sliding over to meet Jo’s. 

Dean just rolls his eyes and follows Bobby and Ellen to the main street, lining up along the side. He can already hear the horns announcing the arrival of the Fire Nation, so he slips into his bender stance—feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed respectfully. 

He doesn’t peek until he can tell by the noise from the crowd that the Avatar is close. He tilts his head up a fraction so he can see the Avatar. His breath catches in his throat. All those rumors weren’t wrong. Avatar Castiel is so attractive that Dean thinks he could combust on the spot from being so attracted to him. Fitting, Castiel in a natural-born fire bender. 

He quickly redirects his gaze to the ground. He’s not overly eager to be seen as disrespectful to the new Avatar, no matter how attractive he is or how badly Dean wants to continue watching the fluid movement of his lithe body, so carefully draped in the colors of the four elements. He’ll get a chance to drink his fill of the Avatar later tonight when they host his welcoming feast. 

~

Dean’s family is hosting the feast since Bobby and Ellen are the tribe’s elders. They leave the welcome ceremony early to prepare, although most of the preparations were completed that morning. Dean helps set the table and lavish it with traditional earth kingdom dishes, everything from the delicious, homey stew that Ellen insists on making the minute anyone gets sick to the delicious, homemade ice cream the nearby water tribe taught them how to make. It’s the perfect mix of Dean’s home and the royal-level food the Avatar must be expecting by now. Guy’s lived in a temple for nearly a decade, no doubt he’s only been given the best. 

Castiel arrives without any fanfare, which is shocking in and of itself, but it’s the traditional earth bender robes he’s wearing that really throws Dean off. It’s just Dean’s family in attendance, but he’d expected the Avatar to wear some fancy Avatar robes, or at least Fire Nation robes. 

“Avatar Castiel. Welcome to the Singer tribe, we’re so honored we could host you,” Ellen says, bowing respectfully as Castiel turns his gaze to her. If Dean’s not mistaken, the Avatar blushes. 

“I appreciate the hospitality, ma’am. It’s nice to be outside of the Fire Nation for once.” He smiles wryly, bowing his head in return. “Your home is lovely and everything smells…” he pauses, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he drinks in the scents swirling around their home. “Amazing,” he finally finishes, grinning as he opens his eyes. 

“Please, have a seat, Avatar. Indulge in whatever you’d like.”

Castiel smiles softly. “I appreciate the respect, but it isn’t necessary. After you, please. You are the tribe elders, after all.”

Bobby and Ellen both seem taken aback, but they take their seats, and only then does Castiel take his. Dean, Sam, Jo, and Charlie settle into their own seats, each of them finding themselves caught by the scrutinizing gaze of the Avatar.

“You three are benders?” Castiel asks, eyes flickering between Sam, Dean, and Jo. The latter nods, grinning widely.

“Born and bred,” Jo confirms, nudging Dean’s shoulder. “These two stumbled into the tribe, but I guess they’re pretty cool.”

One of the candles on the table flickers out as Castiel reaches for a piece of bread and Dean watches in awe as the Avatar effortlessly relights it with a flick of his fingers. It seems like it’s barely a passing thought in Castiel’s brain, the fire just flickering from his fingers like an extension of himself. He supposes that’s how it is, though. Castiel was born with the ability to control fire, just like Dean was born to move earth. 

“You seem out of your element,” Castiel continues with a small smile, eyes shifting to Charlie. The delicately drawn arrows swirling around her skin give away her bending ability and yeah, Castiel’s right. Charlie’s a long way from home, though she’s called this tribe her home for as long as Sam and Dean have been around. 

“I was banished from my tribe when I was young. I had no interest in pursuing the study of air bending and they weren’t exactly pleased with that. The Singers took me in and taught me how to bend on my own terms.” She smiles, shooting a grateful glance across the table at Bobby and Ellen. “They’re good people.”

Castiel chuckles. “You seem to accumulate strays, I see. It’s noble of you.”

Their dinner passes in a mix of comfortable silence as they all eat and surface-level conversation regarding Castiel’s demonstration at the end of the month and what goes on from day to day in their tribe. Dean steals as many glances as he can because let’s face it, Castiel is gorgeous and he really doubts he’ll get to see the Avatar again, at least not up close like this. Might as well drink his fill now.

Except, once dinner is cleaned up and Ellen and Bobby have retired for the night after showing Castiel his quarters for the evening, Dean finds himself outside, alone with the Avatar. Castiel swirls a ball of fire in his hand absentmindedly, though he extinguishes it immediately when he notices Dean’s wary glances. 

“Fire makes you uncomfortable.”

It isn’t a question, so Dean doesn’t answer. He’s not exactly inclined to spill his entire life story to this random man anyway, even if he is the Avatar. He hears Castiel huff a laugh beside him, and then the small rock pile in the corner of the yard is shaking, three rocks floating directly toward them. Dean catches them effortlessly, twirling his fingers to make the rocks spin in a circle above his palm.

“I wish earth bending was that easy for me,” Castiel admits with a sigh, leaning against the wall that surrounds Dean’s home. “It’s always been the hardest to bend, in my experience.”

Dean snorts. “Can’t exactly help you with that, Avatar. I only know how to bend earth, I’ve never known anything else.”

Castiel smiles. “It’s easier than you think, you know. Here, let me show you. Bending air isn’t dissimilar to bending earth.” He steps closer to Dean and holds out a hand. Dean watches him warily for a moment before extending his own hand in return. The Avatar is the only one that’s supposed to master all four elements, but Dean can’t help the thrill that runs through him at the prospect of learning to bend another element. He’s not even sure if it’s possible.

“You have a unique connection to the spirit world,” Castiel says, seemingly answering his question without Dean having asked it. “Has no one told you?”

Dean raises an eyebrow, skin tingling as Castiel finally takes his hand. “Told me what?”

Castiel hums. “In a previous life, you were an Avatar. An Avatar from the Air Temples.” He smiles softly, tilting his head. “Avatars are often reborn into tribes they struggled to master. Since you were an air bender, earth would have been the most difficult for you. I was a water bender in my previous life, hence my being a fire bender in this one.”

Dean scoffs. “I was an Avatar? That’s cute, Cas, but I don’t think it’s true.”

Castiel’s fingers skate along Dean’s palm. “I can show you, if you’d like.”

Dean hesitates, only for a moment, but what if… what if Castiel is right? His parents had died when he was young, and all of his other family had already died by that time. Anyone who would have known wouldn’t have been able to tell him. Is Castiel right?

“Show me.”

Castiel obliges, raising a hand to rest his fingers on Dean’s temple.

The effect is instantaneous. Dean is standing it what looks to be the distant past, watching the Avatar’s demonstration. She doesn’t look familiar, at least not at the moment, so he takes a seat and watches. Her form is shockingly good, although he’d expect nothing less from the Avatar. It’s not until he sees her eyes that he realizes who this is. He’s seen those eyes in the mirror every day of his entire life. This is him. It’s a little shocking to realize that he was a woman in another life, but watching her bend all four elements so effortlessly is astounding.

He’s pulled from the vision before he wants to be, but Castiel is standing in front of him with a small smile. “See? I wasn’t lying. I’m sorry your family never told you.”

Dean shrugs. “Not like they had the chance. Why are we both alive at the same time, then?”

Castiel hums. “We always have been, actually. When I was in the spirit world, they told me that you and I have always been alive at the same time, and we’ve both mastered the elements in the same lifetime. It was just a matter of whoever was found first became the Avatar. This time, it was me.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Then I can learn all four elements? Isn’t that… I don’t know, frowned upon?”

Castiel laughs. “Probably, yes, but I’ll teach you.” He smirks over at Dean. “What are they going to do, arrest me?”

Dean snorts. The Avatar actually has a sense of humor, go figure. “I suppose not. Don’t you have to leave, though?”

He shrugs. “I’ll come back if you’d like. I do need to continue my visits and complete my demonstration at the end of the month, but after that, I still haven’t found a place to stay permanently. This feels like as good a place as any.”

Dean hums thoughtfully. “I figured you’d return to the Fire Nation.”

Castiel waves that away almost instantly, face twisting with disgust. “Absolutely not. I hate it there. They kept me locked in a temple for a decade mastering the four elements instead of letting me visit the tribes that actually mastered them. They just brought me teachers that reinforced their belief that the Fire Nation is superior and I’m protecting the world only because the spirits have asked me to.” 

“That sounds awful.”

“Perhaps,” he admits with a shrug. “Once I’ve completed my demonstration, I won’t have to return. I’m sure they’ll be surprised if I settle down outside of the Fire Nation, but I don’t exactly care.”

Dean smiles. “I’ll double-check with Ellen and Bobby but I doubt they’ll mind if you stay here. They might put you to work in the fields, though,” Dean says with a laugh.

Castiel smiles. “I look forward to it.”

~

Three weeks later, Castiel returns to Dean’s tribe and makes it his permanent home.

[krystalficloverdh]

My hero - Eat what?!

Third chapter.

Hormones in the air.

.

.

.

“Uuuurgh! This is harder than I thought!” Izuku shouts as she moves a spare sword from All Might feeling the strains in her body. She’s been training with All Might for five months and she just turned sixteen, she learned hand to hand combat and how to wield a sword properly, it has been quiet in the area with no attacks so she could concentrate more in her training.

“That’s the spirit young Midoriya!” An excited All Might shouts from behind.”You have a good control over your magic, our powers work 50% mind 50% body.” He puts his hands on his hips.“The power of this sword, is the fullest physical ability of many people gathered into one and obviously you’ve been training for a while if not the limbs will come off and the body will explode.”

“MY LIMBS WILL WHAT?!”

“YES!”

“Um back with my magic, I can only levitate things and myself though.” She said as she wiped her sweat from her forehead.

All Might puts his hand in his chin. “From what I saw back in the Southern Tribe that’s not the case, your magic is called telekinesis, it’s really rare these days and it can only be inherited, you have the ability to manipulate the objects around you and even what are not visible to the naked eye!”

“If what you’re saying it’s true then I am able to thrust strong waves of energy like I did with the slime monster and maybe I can even create protective barriers with the same energy if train it well.” Izuku mutters.

“You’re muttering again.”

“Sorry!”

“WORRY NOT! It seems that I gave you a good idea.”

“Mmm!” She beams happily.

“Young Midoriya, I believe it’s time for you to inherit the legendary sword One For All.” All Might looked at her seriously. “It is a special weapon that adapts to any type of magic and it can also grant its power for ones who can’t develop their own magic.”

“You don’t…?” She asked confused and he gives a crooked smile.

“This sword cultivates the power and passes it on to another person, who also cultivates it and passes it on.” All Might raises the legendary sword and starts to glow.“It is the crystallization of magic that spins together the voices of those who need help.”

“Wow!” She was so happy, it made his heart warm.

“This is the power that you earned because of your own effort...Now.” He said as he takes a strand of his hair. “Eat this.”

“...Eat this? Eat what?”

“Come on that’s how in works, you must consume some part of my dna and this is the best way.”

“Ew…It’s too different from what I imagined!”

“I’m kinda offended right now…” He places a hand on his heart dramatically.“Unless you wanna drink some of my blood?”

“I’ll take it! I’ll take the hair!... I’ll eat it...Somehow.” She swallows the hair with a frown.

“Young Midoriya, How about going to UA? It’s a perfect place for people aspiring to be heroes!”

She looked up at All Might in surprise.”I’ll have to tell my mother about this.”

“Indeed.” All Might grinned wide.”Besides, I’ll be teaching young heroes there.”

“You will?!”

“YES!” He gave her a thumbs up. “There has been a lot of attacks lately and I was on my way there when I felt the sword pulling me to you.”

“Now that I think about it, It was very strange like those men above in the mountains at the tribe like they were trying to lure you out.”

“They gave a pretty good fight! The tribes of the Badlands are strong warriors!”

“They are! It’s amazing how they are able to fight alongside with dragons.” Izuku smiled sweetly “Can I tell some friends if they want to come?”

“Of course the merrier the better! Oh and let’s talk to your mother.”

“Right!”

.

.

“If I went to UA, would you come with me?” Izuku asked as she sparred with Katsuki.

So many things changed in those five months, they would meet up in the forest or in his tribe, she always felt her heart skip a beat in anticipation for their meetings, she would spar with him or Katsuki would take her for a ride. Since she came to this world she never thought about dating, sometimes she would find herself wanting his attention or just be close to him all the time and it’s driving her mad. She had to admit that Katsuki is a very attractive man, putting aside his explosive personality and his yelling all the time, he was a good person, at least in his own way. She can’t help but feel confused about what is happening between them, they became very good friends and they were comfortable with each other.

Katsuki’s eyes turned serious and Izuku squeaked as a pair of strong arms pushed her backwards, rolling in the ground, she was laying on her back with him straddling her hips, holding her arms above her head and looking down on her.

“Not that I’m forcing you, I thought that it could be a great opportunity to become heroes, train to get better, I met All Might a few months ago and he told me about it…” Her voice got quieter as she continued to ramble.

“I would.” He made sure that his voice was loud and clear. “We promised each other didn’t we?”

She lifted her hips and pushed him forward, she used her strong legs and rolled them over, grinning as he grunted in surprise. She pinned him on the ground and her thighs tightened around his hips and he felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt her thighs against him.“Then, I’ll tell All Might that you said yes, oooh let’s tell Kirishima-san and Mina-chan too!” She beams happily and loosened her grip on his hands.

The mention of the legendary hero made him snap out of his trance, he grabbed her collar and pulled her until they were nose to nose.“Wait the fuck up! All Might told you? When did you met?!” He told her fiercely with a look that made her heart and stomach jump in symphony.

Calm the hell down hormones of hers.

Bad Izuku.

She nervously looked away and met his eyes again. “Yeah, after the attack of the slime monster I met him in the forest the next day and he told me about the guild.”

“So he’ll be there…” He muttered and nodded to himself. “I’ll be the number one and even beat All Might or everyone who steps in my way!” He looked at her seriously and she nodded still mesmerized.

“You and fighting half of the world.”

“JUST SO YOU KNOW, DAMN DEKU! THAT SLIME SHIT DOESN’T COUNT! YOU THINK I OWE YOU?! I NEVER ASKED FOR YOUR HELP! YOU COULD’VE BEEN SERIOUSLY INJURED!” His face was red from embarrassment.

“Sure you were Kacchan.” She purred as she gave him a cocky smirk.

“Are you sassing me?” He asked huskily as tacked her on the ground once again. Izuku blinked several times, she tried pulling her hands out of his grasp but to no vail and her lips opened slightly. “Yield.” He smirked, flashing his teeth.

“N-Never.” She breathes and sighed uneasily.

“What’re bitching about?”

“The only thing that bothers me is that I don’t want to leave my mother alone…” She said and looks away as she clenches her fists. “That person might come back and he is not a good person.” Izuku spat venom in her voice as she mentioned her father, she had a wild guess that the man she saw that day was her father, she didn’t have any paintings of him so she wasn’t sure.

A sharp hiss left his lips as he suddenly pulled away from her and they quickly got on their feet. Katsuki knew who she meant, his mother told him that Izuku’s father disappeared when she turned six and at that time Mitsuki went to Inko’s shop for some plants, that’s how they met and became great friends. He reached out to give her a flick on her forehead at the look on her face. “Your mother can stay with my old hag.” He said with a scowl. “She loves your mom… She wouldn’t let that bastard get near her, so stop making that face.”

“Ouch!” She said and punched his chest in goodwill. She rubbed her forehead where he flicked and giggled.

“That’s better.” He smirked.

“If you two have stopped flirting, shall we hear about this UA guild?” Remarked Kirishima with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re not flirting!” Izuku and Katsuki shouted in unison. Kirishima shrugged and Mina laughs.

Izuku sighed and walked towards Kirishima. “You see…”

.

.

“HERE WE ARE!” All Might shouts loudly as the group of teens approached the guild, Izuku looks up at the building, her expression of pure excitement. “COME! YOUNG HEROES, UA GUILD AWAITS!” The hero lets out a booming laugh and stepped to open the front gates. “I AM...COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A HERO!”

The UA guild is a big building in the middle of a city two days away from her village, the tribes of the Badlands are known for their dragons so they took the dragons to get there faster, courtesy of crown prince Katsuki Bakugou.

“AWESOME LOOK AT ALL THOSE PEOPLE USING THEIR MAGIC!” Izuku beams happily swinging side to side, feeling the legendary sword warm in her back next to a grumpy Katsuki and she took a deliberately breath as he suddenly held her hand.

“Let’s go Deku.”

A dark haired woman with a mask and a provocative way of dressing stood in the entrance. “Welcome, young heroes! My name is Midnight.” She smiled at the teens. “Please fill your basic information over there and I’ll give you your keys to your dorms.” The teens part to go to fill their information near a desk lady at the side of the building. “Girls dorms are this way and boys dorms are that way!”

“This is where we part! I must go to meet the master of the guild.” All Might collided his fist into his palm, with quick glance that no one was watching he bends down to ruffle Izuku’s hair and gives her a thumbs up. “See you in class!” He whispered and saluted to Izuku.

“Yes!” She whispered back.

Izuku couldn’t believe that she was at the UA guild, it was funny how the events have changed in five months. She was looking at her surroundings, there was a man with a dog’s head, a girl who created things that came out of her chest, a giant woman, a boy with a tail and many more different powers. She wondered if she was going to share classes with them when she heard a scream of a brown haired girl riding a staff falling from the sky.

“WATCH OUT!”

Without giving a second thought, Izuku quickly flexed her legs and leaped forward, green lightning sparked her body and carried the girl bridal style. They landed softly on the ground and Izuku lets down the girl. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” The girl asked confused.

“Are you okay?”

The girl was about to answer when a knight with glasses came running in their direction holding the staff she was riding moments ago.

“Ochako, that was dangerous! Thank goodness you are okay!” The knight shakes the girl by the shoulders and the girl shoves off the boy to face Izuku.

“That was so cool, like a prince! Thank you for saving me! My name is Ochako Uraraka!”

“Izuku Midoriya” Izuku nodded with a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you!”

“My name is Tenya Iida!” He said while moving his arms all over the place and Izuku laughs at the strage gesture before glancing over at Katsuki who was walking towards her with a deadly expression leaving Kirishima and Mina following from behind.

“Be careful Bakubro or some girl might steal your girl!” Snickered Kirishima behind Katsuki and Mina gives him a high five.

“Nice!”

“Out of the way extras!” Katsuki shoves Iida and Ochako to the side. He looked down at Izuku and took her hand to guide her towards their dorms.

“Don’t call people extras just because you don’t know them!” Iida yells at Katsuki in the distance.

“See you in class and sorry!” Izuku waved a hand turning around to her new friends hoping to see them again tomorrow.

Previous chapter   Next chapter

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 54: The Deepest, Brightest Blue

Keith asks a probing question.

First  Previous  Next

Dragging Lance away from his datapad proves challenging, but after spending a whole quintant doing nothing but sleeping, eating, and curling up in a ball of pain, Keith’s had enough. Whatever his spouse is so focused on can wait.

The walk to the springs is a quiet one, their first full quintant on Daibazaal to be spent away from the people. Keith can tell that Lance is on edge, and wants this to be a good experience for them both. If everything goes well, they’ll be more likely to return, and returning won’t put as much strain on their relationship.

Toward that end, he slips his hand into Lance’s, mirrors Lance’s resulting smile. The Altean bumps their heads together, a new sign of affection to add to their repertoire. Keith still hates how reserved Alteans are in public. They’ll talk openly about their sexual prowess, but do little more than hold their partner’s hand. Lance says his people see it as undignified. Keith says physical affection is more valuable than words or gifts.

They've taken to treasuring their moments alone.

At any rate, it’s good to take some time for themselves, so Keith shows him the springs, a place where clean, clear water bubbles up to the surface in cheerful burbles and flows down the lower slopes of the mountain.

“Oh, Ancients! There’s so much!” Lance dips a bare toe into the water, eyes and grin wide like the river. He squeals. “It’s cold!”

“It comes from underground. There’s a lot of water on Daibazaal. Be careful if you’re going in. There’s a lot of pull the closer you get to the middle.”

“Sure, whatever you say!” And Lance is gone, chasing small fish and mammals at the edge, wading into the water, swimming down to see the springs. Keith is content to watch from the shoreline, snacking on some cured meats. When he’s done with that, he finds a patch of sun to lie in, passively observing his spouse playing in the water. He hopes it rains while they’re here. He wants to see the look on Lance’s face when it does.

After a little while, Lance seems to get lonely, wading back through the water to settle on a sunny rock next to Keith. The Altean definitely needed this break. He looks looser already and it’s still morning. Keith shifts to rest his head within ear-rubbing distance. Lance is happy to oblige, eliciting an easy purr from his throat.

“Lance?” Keith’s eyelids flutter at Lance’s hum. He loves that sound, the way Lance shows Keith’s been heard without shattering the peace. The Galra eyes the blue scales glittering beneath his soaked linen shirt. “What are your scales for?”

“On the surface level, our scales are a form of communication. Their appearance shifts depending on our mood. They’re also an indication of our quintessence base and any other forms we might possess an affinity for.” Lance’s hand runs through Keith’s hair, unbraiding it so it flutters in the breeze. Keith nuzzles against his hip, lets his future mate do as he likes.

“But there’s more to it than that. Our bodies do not function as yours do. Our scales are tied directly to our lifeforce. Every Altean has scales on the cheeks, and typically some others. The more scales we have, the more alchemical potential, and also, the more vulnerability.”

“Vulnerability?”

“If too many scales get damaged, especially scales central to our ability and lifeforce, then our bodies may not be able to produce quintessence or channel it correctly, and we die. According to one story, that’s how the first war between us started: A Galra found an Altean, and they got into a quarrel. The Altean, fearing for her life and safety, slew the Galra. Later, the Galra’s littermate found her, and ripped the scales from her face one by one, and she died. Outraged at the cruelty of her slow and painful death, the Alteans took up arms, slaughtering the entire village. Supposedly, the Altean was one of my royal ancestors’ lovers or blood relatives. It varies depending on which version you get.”

“I’ve never heard that story.”

“It’s probably made up. Like most of our stories.”

“Ah.” Keith shifts, resting his head properly in Lance’s lap. “We have our own story, though. An Altean was caught robbing the Sil’val’nyme Sepulcher.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the tomb of our first empress, Trija. She brought peace and unity to the many tribes of Daibazaal, and under her reign, the people prospered and were never hungry. It's said that her tomb houses unimaginable treasures unlike anything else in the universe. Whether that’s true or not, the Sil’val’nyme Sepulcher is the most beautiful and sacred place on Daibazaal.”

“I assume the Galra took offense to an Altean trying to rob it?”

“Yes. Yes, they did.” Keith rolls onto his back to look up at his spouse, tail flicking back and forth in curiosity. “Lance?”

“Yes, beloved?”

“Can I- Can I touch your scales?” Keith asks, getting the feeling he might be slightly out of line. “I- I know I’ve touched them before, but can I, like-”

“Explore? Of course.” Lance closes his eyes.

Keith reaches up, brushing his fingertips against the royal blue scales on Lance’s cheek. His eyes widen. “They’re so soft! I thought they’d feel like the shreika, only smaller...”

They’re like flower petals, almost frighteningly thin, delicate- they feel like they could crumble under his touch. These tiny, fragile scales are all that separates Lance from death?

Lance chuckles. “Yeah, they are pretty soft. More like a fluttermural.”

“It hurts if I go the other way, doesn’t it? I was there when Pidge did it one time.”

“Yes, please don’t do that. It does hurt. These scales are quite delicate.”

“Right.” Keith gently brushes the scales with his fingertips, admiring how, with slight pressure, he can get the red iridescence to come more or less into prominence. Lance leans into the touch, and Keith suspects that this is somehow far more intimate than the simple brush of a thumb.

“You once said you have a lot of alchemical power. Does that mean you have a lot of scales?” Keith brushes over the soft scales again. His. This life was his, to care for and protect. He couldn’t believe how easily, how willingly Lance was letting him do this. That trust made his heart swell.

“I do…”

“Can I see?”

“You can see some of them. Others will have to wait.” Lance peels off his wet shirt, letting it drop beside them. He stands, Keith rising with him, eyes roving over lean muscle and sun-kissed skin. Lance glitters in the sun. “We’re alone here, so it’s probably safe, but I don’t want somebody walking by and getting the wrong idea.”

Lance has blue scales curling over his ribs and disappearing beneath his pants in liquid patterns, glittering red, flowing, shifting, stretching as he breathes. They crash against his chest and splash over his shoulders like ocean spray. It’s beautiful to watch, like he’s in motion even as he’s standing still. Like fire and water.

He notices Lance’ belly button. It’s bare skin, surrounded by scales. The Altean shifts, awkward. “That’s, uh-”

“I know what it is.” It’s a piercing, gold, with a diamond on top and five fine, gold chains dangling from the bottom, each ending in a sapphire. “It’s pretty.”

“I felt it looked odd, a naked belly button surrounded by scales. It made me self-conscious, hence the piercing. Of course, if you don’t like it-”

Keith’s hands find Lance’s waist, settling over the ever-so-slight curve of his hips. “I like it. I’m glad you found something to make you feel better about yourself.”

Lance smiles, kisses him. “The sapphires are for my family: my mother, my fathers, my sister, and me.”

“That’s so sweet. Can I be the diamond?”

“Sure,” Lance chuckles. “You can be the diamond.”

Keith grins, moving to see Lance’s back, fingers trailing as he goes. Claws ever so slightly extended, he lets them catch lightly on the scales, listens to the sounds they make. The Altean stays very still, letting Keith do as he likes.

The ocean spray splashes against his shoulders and rolls down his back in shimmering, sunlit blue. He’s nearly covered. “Can I-”

“Of course you can. These scales are yours as well as mine.” Keith’s ears twitch, curious at that sentiment, wondering if that’s some Altean philosophy or if it’s meaningful just to Lance. He doesn’t believe for an instant it’s some meaningless line, but he’s afraid to ask just yet.

Instead, he gently runs the bare pads of his fingers over the smooth scales. He pushes aside Lance’s white hair to see the way the scales splash against the back of his neck. “You can go the other way with these. They’re bigger, so it won’t hurt.”

Keith immediately does, feeling the slight resistance as his fingertips catch on the edges of the scales. Curiosity mostly satisfied, Keith rests his cheek on Lance’s shoulder, feeling the coolness of the scales even through his fur.

“They’re so beautiful. Do a lot of Alteans have this many?”

“No. Most don’t actually. I have more on my legs.” Keith runs a hand down one of Lance's arms, traces the scales dripping down to his hands, slips back up to wrap his own arms around Lance’s middle. Lance’s hands rest over his, a tender embrace. “Coran has hardly any, but he's happy with that. Says he prefers things he can see, but likes being able to pry his nose into Alfor's business.”

“Did you inherit this talent from Alfor?” Keith presses a kiss to a patch of scales, learning the feel of them in every way he can.

“Presumably, yes, but some just have it.”

Keith drops his hands, takes a step back. Now that his curiosity is satisfied, he’s aware of the physical intimacy. He knows what he’s doing, knows he feels safe here in a way he might not have a movement ago. Still, a passerby might think otherwise, might move to protect him from his own spouse. He won’t put Lance in any more danger than he’s already in.

Lance doesn’t let it stand, turns, laces their fingers together. “Come swimming with me?”

Keith presses a grinning kiss to Lance’s lips. “Sure. Let’s go swimming.”

After another kiss.

[recipeforme]

C10: My Self-Worth's Fragile Like An Egg

Book: A Good Kid

I groaned when I woke up, remembering what happened yesterday. How could I break down like that? Now that they knew I was vulnerable they were going to stop being so nice. I just know it! My only hope was to act like nothing had happened.

I threw on some clothes, slapped on my eye shadow and headed down stairs for some food. I slipped into the kitchen to see Thomas making himself coffee when he saw me he gave me a huge grin.

“Good morning Virgil!” He greeted “how are you?”

I shrugged and opened the cabinet to find some cereal “why are you acting so weird?” Thomas was a pretty cheerful guy but he could be really…. Touchy in the morning when he hadn’t had his coffee yet.

“I’m not acting weird!” He said, still smiling. I gave him a look before moving to the table with my cereal. “Anyways,” Thomas said, grabbing his coffee and sitting down across from me “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Really?” Thomas turned serious “because you burst into tears last night.”

“I’m fine” I muttered, I could tell Thomas was hesitating to tell me something. “Look, whatever it is just tell me.”

The man took a deep breath “okay well, I signed you up for therapy last night.”

My head shot up “what?!”

He winced “look, I think it would be good for you to talk to someone.”

“No way man! I don’t need some shrink trying to pick my brain apart.”

“Well.” Thomas gave me a look “you’re going.”

I stood up, breakfast abandoned “well, you can’t make me!” My heart rate increased at the thought of seeing a therapist, even more so than denying my guardian.

Thomas looked up at me calmly “actually I can. And I’m sorry if you don’t want to but you’re going. It’s already been paid for. It’s one session, if it doesn’t work then you don’t have to go back. But you do have to go to this session.”

“Fine.”

“Great!” Thomas said “we leave in an hour.” I just huffed and back stormed upstairs.

------

I glared at Thomas from my place on the couch in the therapist’s office, the man rubbed his eyes and sighed. I won’t go into detail but it was a struggle to get me here.

“Look. I know that you don’t want to be here but will you please give it a chance?” He asked, practically begging at this point. I just glared at him silently with my arms crossed. “Fine,” He sighed “well, I’m going to go. I’ll be back in a hour.”

Thomas left and I glared at the wall, in any other situation I would make a run for it but I had a feeling that Thomas was going to sit in the waiting room just to make sure I didn’t. I sighed and looked around the office, which was decorated with toys and posters of Disney and Cartoon characters. Great, he was a children’s therapist. Not only was I going to have my brain picked, I was also going to be downgraded like I was a five year old.

I jumped when a voice said “it’s the moment you've been waiting for!”

My head snapped towards the door as I could see someone’s arm and…. Were they singing a theme song? I didn’t recognize it but it sounded like a theme song. Finishing his ‘intro’ the man walked over and plopped down in his chair. The man had dark(ish) pink hair and glasses. He wore a light blue sweater vest with a long sleeved, pastel, collard, yellow shirt with a light pink tie.

“Hello,” he said, “do you how do?”

“What?”

“Ah well my name is Dr. Picani, and you are?”

“....Virgil… but shouldn’t you know? Cause of paperwork and all that?”

“Yes, but it helps a patient feel more comfortable when they introduce themselves.” I groaned, great it’s been five seconds and he’s already trying to shrink me. “Is everything alright?”

“No.” I declare “I’m not doing this.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look man, no offence to you or whatever but I didn’t choose to come here. The only reason I am is that Thomas thinks that just because I had a little breakdown last night I’m all of the sudden ‘mentaly unstable’ or whatever.” I said, using air quotes around the words ‘mentaly unstable.’

“Well, alright.” Dr. Picani said “if that’s how you feel. But if you don’t mind me asking. Who’s Thomas?”

I sighed, already annoyed “Thomas is my foster dad.”

“Oh, so you're a foster kid?”

“Yeah,” I raised an eyebrow “you got a problem with that?”

“Not at all. Now before we start I should ask if you have ever been to therapy before?”

I sighed again “let me guess, you are not going to just let me sit here until this is over.”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Dr Picani smiled at me.

“Fine, I’ll answer your questions if you answer one of mine.”

“Of course!” He said “go right ahead.”

“If I share stuff with you are you going to tell Thomas what I said?” I figured that I might as well get this over with. Especially if the guy wasn’t going to leave me be. But if he was going to tell Thomas what I say… then I would much rather keep quiet.

“No, not without your consent.” He said “but if you are hurting yourself or others then I will but if you aren’t then everything said here will be kept private.”

“Fine, I’ve only been to therapy once. About a year ago when my dad went to jail.”

“Really? And how was that?”

“Which one? The therapy or the dad thing?” I asked.

“Therapy” He clarified.

“It sucked.” I said “she didn’t do anything besides tell me that I’m a screw up, which I already knew.”

Picani frowned and wrote something down. “Now, why was your dad arrested?”

I let out a dark chuckle “let’s see… child abuse, neglatance of a child, edangerment of a child… I think there’s a few more in there that I don’t know about.”

“I see… now you don’t have to answer this but I’m guessing you were the one he was abusing?”

I shrugged and looked down “mostly me yeah I mean, I get why.” I pulled the hood of my jacket up and said, “I deserved it.”

“Now hold on, why do you think that?”

“Cause I’m a no good, useless, rotten screw up who will never find love and everyone hates.”

“Hmmm you remind me of Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

His words broke me out of my spiralling thoughts and I looked up at him “who and what now?”

“Prince Zuko from the show Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It is a show about a world that is divided into four nations. The Water Tribe, the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation and the Air Nomads. Each of them are represented by an element for which the nation is named.” Picani explained. “Benders have the ability to control and manipulate the element from their nation.”

“Only the Avatar can master of all four elements. The Fire Nation wants to conquer the world but the only bender who has enough power to defeat them, the Avatar, has disappeared. Later in the show two siblings, Katara and Sokka, find the Avatar who is a young airbender named Aang. Aang must now master all four elements in order to stop the war and bring peace to the world.”

“I see… and who’s this Zuko guy?”

“Zuko is one of the main antagonists for a good portion of the show. His sole mission, right from episode one, being to capture Avatar for the sake of the Fire Nation.” The therapist chuckled “and he is always grumpy.”

“Wow, I’m feeling so good about myself at this comparison right now” I said sarcastically.

“Just hang on a Momo, over the episodes, it becomes clear that Zuko is after the Avatar for more than just the sake of the Fire Nation.” He explains “there are moments where Zuko withholds information from and even sabotages the efforts of other members of the Fire Nation. All so he can be the one to hand the Avatar over to his father, Fire Lord Ozai, and regain his honor.”

“Regain his honor?”

“Yeah he ‘lost it’ after speaking out of turn in a meeting. Stating that sacrificing a whole Fire Nation troop as a simple distraction in a battle plan was not a good idea. What an offence, amiright?” He said with a touch of sarcasm “his father punished him by facing him off in combat, burning and permanently scaring his face, and banishing him from the kingdom until he could return home with the Avatar.”

“That uh… sounds like a bad dad.”

“That sounds like an understatement.”

“I’ve never seen the show man, give me a break.” I muttered, my hood falling off. “Look, I don’t understand why you're comparing me to this guy. I mean, yeah my dad hurt me but he never left any scars.”

“While that may be true one thing Zuko struggled with is wanting to make his father proud.” Dr Picani said.

I glared at him “and you think I’m the same. No effing way man, I couldn’t care less about what he thinks!”

“Okay, okay. I apologize, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said “so you don’t care too much for your father. But what about the rest of your family?”

I sighed “well there was also my mom and older brother. Mom…. died several years ago, I don’t like to talk about it, and Janus…. It's complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“When we were young Janus and I were pretty close but after mom died and dad started drinking and stuff he started bullying me at school. Dad loved it.” I said the last part under my breath but I knew the doctor heard me say it.

“Well if that’s the case then you’re much more like Zuko than I thought!”

I looked up at him “What? How?”

“Like you Zuko had a sibling who tended to bully him. His younger sister, Azula, she was constantly being praised by their father for her talents while Zuko was pushed aside.” Dr Picani said “tell me, how did your mother treat you?”

“Um… it’s been a while since.. You know.. But she was amazing.” I let a small smile fall unto my lips “sometimes it feels like she was the only one who actually cared about me. And now, no one does.”

“Well, I’m sure that is not true. After all, your foster father brought you here. Don’t you think that’s a sign that he cares for you?”

I hesitated, a month ago I would have said no. That Thomas was just trying to make himself look good by taking in some helpless foster kid. But… I have had foster parents who were like that, even if they were trying to make themselves look good they would still give me up around the three week to one month mark. “I don’t know.” I admitted, looking down in shame and a little bit of panic. If Thomas wasn’t using me for some kind of personal gain, then why did he take me in?

“Now, I know that you said you don’t care about what your father thinks.” Dr Picani said “but do you think that you still judge yourself based on what he thinks of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you mentioned earlier that you thought yourself to be a screw up. Is that something that your father ever said to you?”

As I thought it over I realized it was true and I nodded “among other things.”

Dr Picani wrote something down and began to talk about this Zuko character again “one of the main issues Zuko had trouble with was that he believed his father that he was the only one that could give Zuko his honor back.” He said

“And that gave him a lot of problems with his self worth. But if he had realized sooner that worth didn’t stem on what his father thought of him. If only he learned to trust the words of his mother who he lost when he was a child or the words of his loving uncle, who was always there for him. Then maybe it would have saved him a lot of internal struggle.”

“Did he ever get better?” I asked. Despite not wanting to come, here this man compared me to a fictional character that was in a similar situation to me… helped.

“Yes. He did.” Picani said “but he didn’t get there alone, it was through the efforts of his uncle that he was truly able to start a new path for himself.”

“But I don’t have anyone like that.” I said.

“What about your foster dad, Thomas? From what it sounds like he’s truly trying to help you in whatever way he can.”

“I don’t know… It’s… hard to trust people. Especially adults” I explained.

“Well, is there anyone else you can think of that you can go too?” Picani asked.

“Well, I mean, there’s my foster brother, Patton.” I said “I don’t really trust him a whole lot yet… but I guess I can try.”

“That’s great! Finding people you can rely on is always a good thing.”

-----

After the session finished I walked out to the waiting room where Thomas was sitting on his phone. When he entered he looked up and stood as I walked over to him.

“How was it?” He asked.

“It was nice…” I looked down “thanks.”

I didn’t need to look at him to tell that Thomas was smiling “you’re welcome.” He hesitated “if you want I can sign you up for another session.”

I paused, an hour ago I would have said no… but Thomas was right. It had been nice to talk to someone. Even if he were a little strange.

I looked at Thomas. “Okay.”