Orion

Boyfriend!Gris who despite his calm and kind nature, becomes dangerously serious when someone hurts you. He doesn’t raise his voice or make a scene… but his eyes say everything. He’s the type to first make sure you’re okay, and then (if he deems it necessary) personally deal with whoever hurt you. Not out of blind impulse, but with a calmness that’s far more intimidating than any outburst.

Boyfriend!Gris who loves to pick you up in his arms as if you weigh nothing, carrying you everywhere with an almost absurd naturalness. Especially if you’re hurt, no matter how minor the injury. To him, any excuse is valid when it comes to taking care of you.

“Gris, darling, I already told you it’s nothing, I can walk on my own.”

“Then why would you walk if I can carry you? Besides, you should be resting. What if the stitches reopen from a bad movement? I know Eishia knows what she’s doing, but… what if?”

“Gris.”

“…Alright. I’m still carrying you.”

Boyfriend!Gris who has almost infinite patience with you. He listens to everything you say, even when you ramble or get lost in unimportant details. He doesn’t interrupt; he seems genuinely interested, as if every word you say carries weight.

Boyfriend!Gris who is incredibly attentive to small gestures like fixing your clothes without you noticing, discreetly cleaning a wound, handing you things you didn’t even ask for but clearly needed. His way of loving isn’t loud, but it’s constant.

Boyfriend!Gris who, although not possessive, is deeply protective in a very noticeable way. He doesn’t limit or control you, but he’s always close, always attentive. And when the situation calls for it, he stops being the kind man everyone knows and becomes someone no one wants to stand against.

Boyfriend!August who is completely obsessed with making you new clothes. It’s not just a hobby or a romantic gesture: it’s practically a necessity. He always has some project in his hands, and almost all of them end up being made with you in mind.

Do you need a light top for the summer heat? He probably already started it before you even mentioned it. And if not, he’ll have it ready as soon as he finishes that wonderful dress he started making yesterday, without getting enough sleep.

Boyfriend!August who loves having you model every piece he makes. It doesn’t matter if it was originally for another idea, another concept, or even another person: he needs to see you wearing it. He says it’s to check for flaws, fabric drape, or proportions… but in reality, he just ends up staring at you longer than necessary.

And according to him, there are never any flaws. Because everything fits you exactly how he imagined it, or even better.

Boyfriend!August who uses your body as a constant reference for his fashion figurines. His sketches are full of silhouettes that are clearly yours, even if he never admits it directly. He claims it’s “practicality,” that he already knows your proportions, that the design flows better that way… but the truth is, he simply can’t help thinking of you as the standard.

To him, if a garment works on you, it works anywhere.

Boyfriend!August who gets irritated (even if he doesn’t say it out loud) when someone else tries to comment on how something he made looks on you. Not because he thinks they don’t know what they’re talking about, but because he feels like no one understands his work the way you do. You are the one who gives it meaning.

Boyfriend!August who adjusts your clothes even when there’s no need to. A tug here, an imaginary seam there, fixing the fabric with absurd concentration… any excuse is valid to touch what he made… and, by extension, you.

Boyfriend!August who keeps fabric scraps “just in case,” but most of them end up turned into small accessories for you: ribbons, details, unique pieces that no one else has.

If it were up to him, time would stay right there, suspended.

But it doesn’t.

“Follo! Tomme says he needs you to finish today’s report–oh…” Gris’s voice falls over him like a bucket of cold water.

The man freezes when he sees you, and Follo pulls away from you immediately, as if he had just been caught doing something illegal in the middle of the street.

“I… we were… uhm…” he stammers, feeling the heat rise all the way to his ears, completely unable to form a single coherent sentence.

Gris lets out a low, amused laugh, gives you a thumbs-up before mercilessly ruffling Follo’s hair.

“Sorry for interrupting. But Tomme needs you as soon as possible.” Without adding anything else, he turns around and walks away with an irritating calmness.

The silence he leaves behind is heavy.

Follo doesn’t turn right away. He just stands there, stiff, staring at some nonexistent point, as if he’s still processing what just happened. Then, slowly, he brings a hand to the back of his neck and sighs.

“I’m going to kill him…” he mutters, though there’s no real intent in his words.

When he finally looks at you, his cheeks are still flushed red.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” he says, half embarrassed, half frustrated, but he doesn’t pull away.

Instead, he leans in a little closer and wraps his arms around you again; you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and you can clearly see how red his face is.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I have to go now,” he says with a hint of hesitation, his face slowly moving closer to yours, never breaking eye contact.

And this time, when his lips brush against yours again, it’s briefer, softer… but also more deliberate.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispers against your mouth, as if it were a secret.

He pulls away with effort, stepping back once, then twice, as if every inch costs him, and even so, before leaving, he can’t help but look at you one more time.

Because he already misses your lips, you.

His hands were sweating as the North Pole came into view from the ship. The Fire Nation was still hated by many...he understood that. His people had caused irreversible damage for a hundred years. But ever since he joined the Avatar to fight against his father, he had been doing everything he could to make up for it.

“Fire Lord, we’re about to arrive at the Northern Water Tribe. You should begin preparing.”

Zuko nodded and thanked the guard for informing him. After all, they were people, and they deserved respect. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes as his father… right?

A chill ran through his body as he set foot on the ice that dominated the tribe. Ironically, he knew the path to the palace all too well, he had been here before, and he certainly hadn’t been the hero of the story.

The citizens watched him with disdain as he made his way toward the grand ice palace. And there you were, standing at the base of the stairs, just as beautiful as when you had fought by his side to stop Azula during the comet.

He finally reached you and bowed, showing respect. It was his duty as Fire Lord.

As soon as he lifted his head again, he was met with your smile and the calm presence that always surrounded you.

“Fire Lord Zuko, what a pleasant surprise to have you here.”

You smiled, returning the bow.

“The pleasure is mine, thank you for—”

He didn’t finish. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a warm embrace of old friends, one he returned without hesitation.

“I’m glad to see you again, Zuko.”

“Me too, Y/n.”

You pulled apart and were about to guide him to the palace when a young member of the tribe began shouting.

“Boo! Down with the Fire Nation! You’re nothing but cruel murderers!”

Both of you turned in surprise as more tribe members began shouting insults at Zuko. He froze, unsure of what to do. He was aware of the hatred toward his people, especially toward him as Fire Lord because of his father and ancestors... but was it truly this deep? Could they not see he was trying to change things?

You noticed the confusion on his face, and just as you were about to step in, your father’s voice echoed from the stairs.

“Silence! You will show the Fire Lord the respect he is due. We will convene an assembly this afternoon in the Great Hall to address this matter properly.”

The murmuring didn’t disappear completely, but it quieted enough for Arnook to descend with firm authority.

“Any member of the Northern Water Tribe who wishes to express their concerns may do so then. Until that time, maintain order. We are an honorable nation.”

The message was clear: the unrest would not be ignored… but neither would chaos be tolerated at the palace gates.

Zuko swallowed.

He wasn’t used to being defended publicly.

You moved slightly, standing beside him, not in front, not behind. Beside him.

“My father is right,” you said clearly, addressing the people. “This visit is not an invasion. It is diplomatic. And if anyone has something to say, they may do so face to face this afternoon.”

Some people looked away. Others continued watching him harshly.

Zuko finally spoke.

“I didn’t come to demand respect,” he said, firm but calm. “I came to listen.”

That had more impact than any command.

Arnook nodded slightly.

“Then it is settled. At sunset, in the Great Council Hall.”

Once inside the palace, the murmurs faded, but the weight did not.

Zuko exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry.”

You stopped.

“For what?”

“For… all of this. For what my nation did. For what I did when I first came here.”

He wasn’t looking at you... just at the frozen floor.

You stepped closer.

“You can’t carry a hundred years of war on your own.”

He let out a humorless laugh.

“Feels like I can.”

You shook your head gently.

“No. But you can decide what kind of Fire Lord you want to be today.”

For the first time since stepping off the ship, his shoulders relaxed.

“This meeting…” he said. “Do you think it will go well?”

You looked at him with that calm that always unsettled him.

“That depends on whether you speak as a ruler… or as the boy trying to fix something he didn’t break.”

Silence.

“I’m not very good with speeches...” he admitted.

You smiled faintly.

“Then don’t give one. I might sound like your uncle right now, but if you want to win these people over, win the world, you need to speak with confidence and from the heart. I trust you. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

You took his hand as you spoke, smiling at him reassuringly before walking toward the council hall beside your father. Zuko remained still for a moment in the hallway. His two guards exchanged confused glances behind him. Finally, he made up his mind and followed with determination.

The Great Hall was full.

The polished ice reflected the blue torches lighting the chamber, and the constant murmur of the tribe barely faded when Arnook took his seat.

Zuko stood tall, though every gaze on him weighed more than any armor.

Arnook cleared his throat.

“Our princess will give the welcome.”

You felt dozens of eyes shift toward you. You took a deep breath. You weren’t just Yue’s sister. You weren’t just the girl who traveled with the Avatar. You were the future leader of your tribe.

You stood, forming a small ice pedestal with your waterbending, stepping onto it.

“My people…” your voice was clear and firm. “Thank you for gathering here with order and dignity.”

The murmuring ceased.

“Today, we receive the Fire Lord, not as an enemy, but as a representative of a new era. I know the pain we carry does not disappear with words… because I am deeply aware of what we have endured.”

A heavier silence fell.

“But we also understand honor, and what it means to listen before we judge.”

Your gaze flickered briefly to Zuko.

“The Fire Lord has come to propose a trade network between the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe. Resources, maritime exchange, support in rebuilding villages affected by the war… an alliance that benefits both our people.”

Some elders exchanged looks.

“Isolation will not make us stronger. Cooperation will.”

You were about to continue when a voice spoke behind you.

“May I?”

Zuko.

The room tensed instantly.

You turned slightly, meeting his determined gaze. Arnook watched him for a moment before nodding.

Zuko stepped forward to stand beside you.

His shoulders were tense, but his voice did not waver.

“I didn’t come here to ask you to forget,” he said plainly. “I know what my nation did. I know what my father did. And I know what I did when I first came here.”

Some people looked down. Others hardened their gaze.

“I don’t expect your forgiveness. It wouldn’t be fair to ask for it.”

A different murmur spread, not anger. Attention.

“But I can offer something different. Reparations. Resources to rebuild any village still suffering from the war. Trade routes that strengthen you, not exploit you. An exchange of knowledge, if you wish.”

He took a breath.

“My goal isn’t to expand power. It’s to repair the damage my nation caused.”

His eyes moved across the room.

“If you choose to reject this alliance, I will accept that. But I will not stop trying to make up for what was done in the name of the Fire Nation.”

The room fell completely silent.

“I can’t change the past. But I can make sure it never happens again.”

His hands were tense at his sides, but he didn’t step back.

He didn’t lower his gaze.

He didn’t defend himself.

He simply stood firm.

Arnook slowly surveyed the room.

“The Northern Water Tribe will deliberate. But today, we have heard something we have not heard in a hundred years.”

He looked at Zuko.

“Accountability.”

The silence lingered, but the hatred was gone. Most faces now showed confusion rather than contempt.

You stepped down from the pedestal with Zuko’s help, and suddenly, the silence broke into cheers.

Both of you flinched in surprise as the tribe erupted into applause.

Zuko let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

You smiled, taking his hand and raising it for all to see.

“We will rebuild what was broken a hundred years ago!”

The cheers grew louder.

You looked at your father. His tired eyes met yours, but there was pride in his smile.

The meeting had ended hours ago. You both walked down the palace corridor toward the ice balcony in comfortable silence until Zuko finally broke it.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” you asked as you stopped at the balcony.

“For defending me… and for that advice. It helped a lot. Though you did sound like my uncle.”

He smiled faintly.

“Speaking of Iroh… how is he?”

Zuko frowned slightly and sighed, rubbing his face as he leaned on the railing.

“I don’t know… I haven’t written to him.”

His voice carried guilt.

“I need him. Everything is so difficult without him.”

“Zuko, why don’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel.”

“I could… but I want to respect him. He said he wanted to stay away from royal matters. He’s old... I don’t want to burden him.”

You smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You know better than anyone that your uncle would never turn his back on you. He loves you, Zuko. And right now, you need him.”

Zuko looked at you, exhaustion filling his eyes.

Then he gently cupped your cheek.

“But I need you too…”

“Zuko…” You held his hand against your face. “You know it’s not right…”

“Why not?”

“We’re from different nations.”

“Aang and Katara are too.”

“But—”

“Is it because you don’t want this?”

“It’s because I can’t.”

“Then explain why.”

“Because I have to marry, Zuko… someone from the tribe who is worthy of my hand. That’s the only way I can lead properly.”

You sighed, sadness deep in your eyes.

“What if I marry you?”

The words cut through the tension.

“What?”

“You heard me. I want to marry you.”

“The people wouldn’t accept it…”

“Why does it matter what they accept? I love you, Y/n. I always think about you, how you stood by me against Azula, how you trusted me even when I chose the wrong side, how you looked at me in Ba Sing Se… like I was a person, not an enemy.”

You finally met his gaze.

He was resolute.

A soft “please” escaped his lips as he leaned closer.

You nodded.

“Yes, Zu… I want to be with you.”

You closed the distance, kissing his cheek first before wrapping your arms around his neck. Then, finally, your lips met in a soft, tender kiss.

He always says he is not a jealous person, that he fully trusts you and that jealousy is stupid, because "all you do is show how little trust you have in your partner, right? I trust you completely and I will never be jealous of you."

But when it happens, Follo feels like his insides are burning.

When you approached to ask about the condition of the evacuees, the guy did not hesitate to walk up to you and start bombarding you with questions. "Where are you from?" "What is your name?" "What is your Jinki?" He even went as far as saying "You are very beautiful."

A guy from a village they had received an emergency call from to clean up a Trash Beast that had crossed the secured perimeters. Follo had taken care of evacuating the nearby people so you could eliminate the beast with your powerful Jinki and your abilities as a Giver. Follo admired you and loved you. Even though he had not managed to become a Giver yet, he knew he would soon turn into one and would be able to fight by your side and protect you.

He was so mesmerized watching you from a distance that he did not notice that, apparently, he was not the only one who thought that way.

"Man, that is incredible. You are her coworker, right? What is her name? She is incredibly attractive."

"Huh?" he asked, confused, looking at the man speaking to him, a guy around twenty years old, incredibly handsome.

Follo did nothing but tighten his grip on his hammer as he watched both of you. You laughed a little nervously while the guy openly flirted with you right in front of him. He could feel the anger building up in his veins. There was no doubt about it. Follo was jealous. Who did that perfect guy think he was? Obviously he was more attractive than him, even stronger, and maybe he actually had what it took to become a Giver, unlike Follo. Bah, what did that matter? Follo loves you and knows that you love him, but that guy was getting on his nerves and he was sure that at any moment he was going to lift his hammer and land a blow on his pretty face and...

"Follo." Gris's paternal voice pulled him out of his thoughts as a heavy hand rested on his shoulder. "Are you alright? You seem tense."

"Me?" Follo quickly looked in your direction. You were watching him with some concern as you walked toward him, leaving the guy talking to himself until he realized he was being ignored, then he turned around and left. "Yeah, I just... I just need a little space."

He turned around quickly and walked a few steps in the opposite direction until he was far enough from the crowd of villagers.

How could he allow himself to feel jealous? That was a disgrace against his own ideals. He fully trusted you. He could not get jealous over some random guy... but what if that guy was better for you than he could ever be?

"Follo?" Your sweet voice pulled him out of his thoughts instantly.

Follo looked at you, slightly stunned for a second, as if he had not expected to see you there. He frowned faintly, more uncomfortable with himself than with you.

"I just wanted to know if you are okay. You left suddenly."

"Do you need something?" he replied, a bit more curt than usual.

You blinked, slightly surprised by his tone.

"Follo." Your voice was softer this time, yet firmer. "Did something bother you?"

There was a long silence before anyone spoke. Follo clenched his jaw. He did not want to say it. He did not even want to admit it.

"...I am fine."

That was all he managed to say, which was a blatant lie, and you knew it.

Follo looked away, fixing his gaze on the ground for a few seconds, as if weighing every word before saying it. His grip on the hammer tightened again.

"...I do not like it."

"What thing?"

"...That guy."

There was a brief silence.

"Because he flirted with me?"

But it was.

"...Because he did it in front of me," he corrected immediately, almost defensive. "And because he acted like he had the right to... and because I did not like the way he was looking at you."

His voice dropped slightly at the end.

It was not exactly a confession of jealousy. He would not put it that way.

You stepped a little closer.

"Follo... are you jealous?"

He looked at you sharply, frowning.

"No."

Too fast.

"...I am not jealous."

A pause.

"...But that does not mean I have to tolerate some idiot disrespecting you."

You crossed your arms, tilting your head.

"Disrespecting me... or bothering you?"

"...Both." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I do not like the idea of someone else thinking they can approach you like that."

Silence again. Follo opened his mouth to answer... and then closed it.

His shoulders dropped slightly.

His voice turned lower, more honest.

"...Nor that you could... prefer someone like that."

You softened instantly, looking at him with those eyes full of love that were reserved only for him.

Follo's grip on the hammer finally relaxed.

"Follo... look at me."

When he did not dare to do it, you stepped closer and gently held his face in your hands with a soft smile.

"I chose you."

"I know... I just... I do not like sharing what is mine."

He paused for a second, frowning.

"...That sounded worse than I meant it to."

First, it was your night lamp, in the Central HQ gym. Then, your hair dryer, on one of the cafeteria tables. And lastly, one of your books, in the men’s locker room, found by Gris without him even knowing how it ended up there. And now...

"Zanka, have you seen my hairbrush? It was in my... Oh, where did you find it?"

You walk over to his desk in confusion, where your brush lay neatly placed.

"Found it sittin’ on the windowsill on the second floor," he replies brusquely, clearly tired of you always losing your things.

"Oh... I don’t remember leaving it there, well, thank you very much."

You take the brush in your hands and leave cheerfully, closing the door to his room behind you.

Zanka sighs as he watches you go. He picks up his Aibo carefully and heads toward the common room a few steps behind you. Apparently, you hadn’t noticed him, because you kept walking calmly, brushing the ends of your hair a little, until it happened.

You suddenly stop in the middle of the hallway, staring at one of the paintings hanging on the wall. You notice it’s slightly crooked and decide to fix it.

You place the brush on the floor, right beneath the painting, and adjust it with both hands until it sits straight in place.

"Perfect... Someone careless must have moved it."

You continue walking without a care, not realizing you left something behind.

Zanka stands in the middle of the hallway, a look of pure annoyance on his face as he stares at the brush on the floor, right where you left it.

The noise of the place was overwhelming, but you were already used to it, because your body had learned to compensate for what you lacked. You had learned to feel and read vibrations, the shifts in air currents, to sense. To anticipate.

To survive.

Even so, there was something you could never fully cover; your right side.

That place you always shielded with everything you had, even hiding it from others’ view.

That blind spot that always forced you to tilt your head slightly, to stop paying attention to everything else just to focus on it, to work with more precision than anyone else.

But it was something you never had to worry too much about when Zanka was around.

And it was not something he said. Not even something that seemed intentional at first, or something he cared about.

But he always… always… ended up on your right.

Like now.

"Stop worrying about it," you murmured, noticing his presence even without fully turning.

"I ain’t worried."

"You are."

"I’m keepin’ watch. Some trash beast could show up and catch me off guard if I don’t pay attention."

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile slipped onto your lips.

"You’re bad at lying."

"I ain’t."

His voice was dry, as always, sharp and somewhat rough. But there was something else underneath. Something only you noticed, and something reserved only for you.

It said: I’m here.

And that was enough.

Rudo noticed it before he understood it, because at first it seemed like a strange coincidence.

Then it became a pattern.

And after that… something else.

"Hey…" he murmured, leaning slightly toward Enjin as he watched from a distance. "Doesn’t that seem weird to you?"

"What?" Enjin replied, idly playing with the cigarette between his lips while checking his Umbreaker.

"Zanka."

"Zanka is always weird."

"No, I mean… this is different…" Rudo insisted. "I mean, look at that. He doesn’t leave her side."

Enjin sighed, but followed his gaze.

You were talking with them. Relaxed. Or at least… as relaxed as you could be.

And Zanka was at your right side, just like always. Close. Not too close to make it obvious, but enough. Always enough.

"What about it?" Enjin asked.

Rudo frowned. "He always does that!"

Enjin smirked as he dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his shoe, then narrowed his eyes, watching more carefully this time.

"…Huh."

"SEE?"

"I hadn’t noticed. That’s good material to make fun of him later."

"It’s not a coincidence," Rudo growled. "Watch this."

And before Enjin could stop him, Rudo walked straight toward you.

"Hey…" he greeted, casually positioning himself at your right.

Error.

A serious error.

Not even two seconds passed.

"What ya doin’, brat? Move."

Zanka’s voice was low, cold, and direct.

"Huh?" Rudo did not even finish reacting, because Zanka was already in front of him.

A firm shove with his foot, just enough to push him out of place like a piece wrongly set on a board.

"I. Said. Move."

Rudo stepped back, more out of surprise than force.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he protested with his usual sharp expression as he shouted at Zanka.

And Zanka was already back in his place at your right, as if nothing had happened.

"You was in the way."

"I WAS NOT IN THE WAY!"

From behind, Enjin raised an eyebrow and immediately burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

"Just… don’t stand there," he managed to say between breaths.

"WHY?"

"Just don’t. Trust me."

Rudo looked at both of them, clearly frustrated.

"WHAT’S SO SPECIAL ABOUT THAT SIDE?!"

You sighed, slightly amused by the situation.

"Rudo."

"What?"

You gently removed your eye patch, revealing an eye with a clouded cornea and no visible pupil.

"I can’t see on this side."

Rudo blinked.

"Huh? Oh…" He scratched his head, visibly confused.

You tilted your face slightly, softly indicating your right side.

"I’m completely blind in my right eye."

Rudo opened his mouth, but no sound came out as he slowly processed the situation.

Then, slowly… he turned his head toward Zanka.

Zanka said nothing, looking away with clear annoyance as he crossed his arms around his Lovely Assistaff, but the faint blush creeping up his neck said everything.

"I’m just watchin’ the perimeter. It’s dangerous…" he muttered, embarrassed, acting like nothing mattered as he turned around and shifted Assistaff between his hands.

"…Oh," Rudo finally said.

Enjin finally stopped laughing.

"Told you, kid."

"YOU DID NOT TELL ME ANYTHING!"

"Well… maybe I didn’t."

Rudo looked at both of you again.

Noticing, from previous moments, the way Zanka would slightly lean toward your right side whenever someone got too close, and how his attention never left that blind spot.