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Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
My motherâs condition continues to get worse, and there is nothing more painful than watching someone you love slowly lose their strength in front of you.
She struggles every day with pain and difficulty breathing, yet still tries to smile so we do not break down beside her.
The doctors told us she urgently needs treatment and surgery, but we are unable to afford the costs alone.
The last donation she received was 10 days ago, and since then we have been living in fear, waiting and hoping for a miracle.
Please, do not let my mother continue suffering without help.
I am begging you from Gaza with a heart full of fear. Watching my mother suffer every day while we are unable to help her is breaking me completely. Please, do not ignore her pain. Your donation could truly save her life before it is too late.
Please guys, Nour suffers from thyroid enlargement that makes breathing difficult, and she urgently needs treatment and surgery. Any small donation can help save her life â please donate đ If you canât donate, please share the post.
I write these words with a heavy heart, filled with exhaustion and fear, not only for myself but also for my family, who are now living through harsh days that bear no resemblance to the life any human being deserves.
Since the beginning of the war, we have lost our security, stability, and everything we relied on to live with dignity. Securing food, water, and medicine has become a daily struggle, and the situation grows more difficult with each passing day.
What pains me most is my brother Mahmoud. He has an intellectual disability and needs medication continuously to maintain his condition. In these harsh circumstances, obtaining his medication has become nearly impossible. When his treatment is delayed, he suffers greatly, and his suffering, and ours along with it, intensifies. I feel helpless when I look at him and know I cannot provide what he needs.
My children are living in fear, hunger, and cold, and we are trying to persevere despite everything. We no longer ask for much from life; we simply want to secure our basic needs, provide Mahmoud with treatment, and protect our children from this painful reality.
Therefore, I ask anyone who can help not to leave us alone. Any support, no matter how small, can help us provide food, medicine, and shelter for my family, and give my brother Mahmoud a chance to continue his treatment.
My story isn't just words; it's the life of a family trying to survive in unbearable circumstances.
I'm Amer, a father trying to stay strong for his family, and I still believe that goodness still exists in people's hearts. đđđđđđđđđđđđ
Hello, my name is Amer Ahmed. I am 33 years old. My family and I live in Gaza. Our life was perfect before the war, but fate decreed that wa
â€żàŠ đ°đ”đȘđšđ”đ«đŹđșđȘđŹđ”đ» â someone who glows with intense passion, brilliance, or joy, or conversely, someone burning with extreme rage.
‿Content : Plot & build up. Pregnancy. Nudity. Wounds & bruises. Kissing. Suggestive. Intimacy. Heavily Implied sex. Fluff. Drizzle of angst. Scene inspired by Pursuit of Jade. The most self-indulgent a self-indulgent fic can get.
‿Word count: 7.7k
‿ Authors note: Sokka is vital to the plot of every fic! Zuko loose hair and back muscles when they're flexed *drools*. Last last thing, I suck at content/warning tags sorry ://
Once again... balance has been restored to the world, peace revived to the united republicans, and a dawn on the horizon to mark it's arrival.
But the suns awakening did not remove the cinder from the air nor the scorch of the city from belowâa new day had not meant a forgotten yesterdayâthe damage was done and much was to be rebuilt.
Birdsong returned to the skies. And a memory stirred of all the mornings he had spent on the terrace overlooking the flourishing expanse of his nation, a whiff of cider musk breathing from his silk robes.
Zuko set aside much of his concerns for the time being and embraced the kindred fire of first light as they braved the clouds. He had not wanted toâhe felt he did not deserve toâyet was unable to stop himself from succumbing to relief, for what a long arduous battle it had been.
"This marks another win for team Avatar!" Sokka exclaimed breathlessly as he landed unceremoniously beside Zuko. He threw his arm over the railed edge of Appaâs saddle and deflated from the aftershock of nearly free-falling to his death.
"And what exactly did you contribute?" Toph queried.
"O you know, brains and brawn. Saved yalls butts twice! Not forgetting how my spectacular no bending invention single-handedly restored peace and balance to the world"
"You think you could use that no bending skills to save me from the wrath of my wife?â
Silence.
Sokka's head whipped toward Zuko whose face had shifted in an instant from calm serenity to petrified realization.
âI didnât tell her I was leaving,â he muttered under his breath, staring into the sun as if it might offer him mercy.
Toph chortled, âGoodluck with thatâ
Sokka furiously shook his head. âDonât drag me into thisâ
Aang, perched atop Appaâs head, looked back, glad he had not been in Sokkaâsâor, worse yet, Zukoâsâstead because he, like the rest, had known your fiery temperament and had been subjected to its terrifying nature before, close enough to understand it wasnât just talk or a joke passed over lightly.
Even Katara who could silence a room with a glance had never made him feel quite like this: that uneasy awareness of having already chosen the wrong side of a coming conversation.
He swallowed, suddenly very aware of his torn clothes, and looked away from Zuko. He was taken back to that one time during a stealth mission when Sokka and Zukoâs simple bantering had turned a quiet mission into near disaster.
It was a few years after Firelord Ozaiâs defeat, when the plans for Republic City were still ink on paper and the world was trying to stitch itself back together.
They ran on exhaustion more than certainty, moving between rebuilding efforts, negotiations, and the precarious work of keeping the nationsâset in their ways of warâfrom tearing at each other again.
The group had split in two. Probably not the smartest of plans. Aang was to take Sokka and Zuko, stake out a camp, trace patrol patterns, count soldiers, gather whatever intel they could, and await the signal.
But with three hours gone and still no sign of movement, Zuko, who wasnât even supposed to be there in the first place, shifted from stillness into irritation. And with Zuko, irritation never stayed small for long.
Sokka noticed, of course. And Sokkaâwell, Sokka had never met a tense situation he couldnât make worse on purpose.
âWeâll age out here before we see a single soldier. Look, Zukoâs already balding,â Sokka said, poking at a branch at Zukoâs feet with his boomerang.
âIf you would stop talking, we might actually hear something useful.â
âOh, Iâm sorry,â Sokka shot back, louder, âI didnât realize Fire lord grumpy here was conducting a listening ceremony.â
The air tightened.
Aang had glanced between them, already sensing the shift before either of them fully committed to it. âGuys... maybeââ
And just like that, their bickering grew harsher, loud enough to have alerted an unseen passing patrol. âItâs the Avatar!!â
âYou guys did it again!â Aang snatched up his staff in one motion. Air lifted him upward as he rose above the bushes, frustration flashing across his face. âEvery time you argue, someone shows up and I'm always the first one noticed!â
Troops had plunged from the canopy of trees, emerging one after the other from the dark crevices of the forest with no end in sight.
Aang landed to help Zuko and Sokka.
But they were steadily driven back into a position where the enemy had gained the upper hand.
Like fury incarnate, earth had suddenly surged up in twin walls from the ground, folding the attackers in and cutting off every escape, and then water followedâan erosion, swift and precise washed through the space, locking every step in place as it hardened around their feet.
Every threat was flattened in a single, controlled strike.
The chaos gone as quickly as it had escalated.
You stood there afterward with a flat, unreadable expression, sweat clad and breathing heavier from the strain of such coordinated yet strenuous bending, your disappointment settling over them like stone.
Aang visibly shivered, his body reacting as the memory surfaced.
He could still feel it: the pressure of your words pinning them in place more effectively than any Earth Kingdom soldier ever had.
Since then, he had avoided anything even remotely reckless within your orbit. If something looked like it might spiral, he was already halfway out of it.
If Sokka started arguing, Aang found air.
If Zuko started pacing, Aang found distance.
If a plan felt even slightly like it might become âthat kind of situation again,â Aang was suddenly, urgently needed somewhere else. Anywhere else.
He let out a small breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if it could ease the memory away.
âYeah,â he muttered to himself, glancing off toward the horizon. âNot doing that again.â
Katara had heard the whole thing.
She didnât feel sorry for them. Not really. They made their choices, and choices had consequences, therefore they should own up to it. Simple as that. Still, there was something faintly amusing about the way they spoke of you, like your presence alone had rewritten the rules of survival.
Katara had seen real fury before. Water crashing, storms breaking, emotions spilling over in waves.
And youâŠyou were rational. That was all.
You were control. And control when it turned toward them felt like standing still in deep water as the current decided where one would go.
You were calm, collected, even when you reprimanded them. Somehow, that was exactly what made it worse. Because you didnât raise your voice. Like every situation wasnât an emotional mess to be shouted throughâbut a problem to be solved, with consequences carefully considered.
She sighed, shaking her. âDeserved.â
Toph nodded in agreement. Boys were stupid. Brainless. Rash. They had tendency to ruin most of what they touched⊠and didnât touch.
Sokka spoke first, very carefully. âShe once looked at me like I had personally offended the concept of intelligence.â
âYou did,â Toph and Zuko replied in unison.
Sokka glared.
âYouâre all ridiculous.â Then, almost absently, Katara added, âShe doesnât scare me.â
âAnd me,â Toph raised her hand.
Aang blinked. âReally?â
Katara rested against Appa. âSheâll be angryâand it's within her right to be. You left without telling her.â
Zuko looked toward the horizon, where messengers and rumours always seemed to travel faster than wind.
âAnd after what just happened,â she added, quieter now, ânews of the scale of the wreckage will reach her soon.â
Sokka patted Zukoâs shoulder with forced sympathy. âYou're going to have to deal with this one yourself buddyâ
Zukoâs expression didnât change. âYouâre coming with me.â
âNope.â Sokka's leg hooked lazily over the other, letting the slight breeze catch him as if he had already emotionally checked out. âThis is a royal problem. Fire Nation business. Husband wife stuff.â
Toph snorted, pointedly removed from the conversation in the exact way Sokka had hoped to be.
âSokkaâ
âWhat Katara? I value my life.â
Aang shifted uncomfortably as Appa readied to land. âIn her⊠condition. I donât think sheâs going to justâfocus on one person.â
Zukoâs eye twitched. He clearly caught the implication, but swallowed it down with visible effort. ââŠYouâre all coming,â he said flatly.
Sokka pointed at him. âThatâs not how protection works!â
Appa touched down near the city center with a thud that rippled through the streets below.
âIt's been a while. We could do with a visitâ She smoothed a hand over Appaâs fur, a smile written across the corners of her mouth.
With Katara and Toph in agreement, the decision was already made.
Zuko would be returning home regardless, so his vote counted for nothing.
As for Aang and SokkaâŠthey werenât given a choice.
With much still to be done in the wake of the destruction left behind, Sokka suggested they remain in Republic City for the day, where they would clean up, rest, and handle a few lingering matters before setting out for the Fire Nation the following morning.
This time, his opinion had been heard and agreed upon.
Zuko was grateful, albeit hesitant. He told himself it was better to return home fully rested and composed than to arrive in torn clothes, injuries half-healed, and every weakness laid bare for scrutiny.
âą.âżïž”Ë‿đŠâđ„ àŠËïž”âż.âą
Steam curled lazily along the stone walls.
Zuko submerged himself under the hot water longer than necessary. When he resurfaced, it ran over his shoulders, down his arms and chest as if it could rinse out more than just soot and sweat.
The day replayed itself in fragments. Then went further back to when his hope for redemption sparked and brought him to this point. Then even further backâdeeper into the memories of his childhood when he'd been taught the history of his Nation, their climb to dominance and successâŠto the demise of the Air Nomad. Aang's people.
He exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the tub, his arms resting along its curved edges.
His chest rose with the steam, then eased back downâsteady as the flicker of candlelight in a still room.
âWhat troubles you, My Lord?â
A ghost of a touch brushed his shoulder where a deep incision had been healed to a dark bruise. Another sensation had followed shortly, a softer collision against his shoulder.
âWhy? Do you plan on kissing my troubles away?â
He had found himself smiling.
âOh, I can do a lot more than thatâŠâ you replied, voice warm with that familiar sparkâthe kind that didnât burn outwards so much as it simply refused to dim.
His hand had rested on your hip, fingers idly tugging at the absurd amount of layers in your dress as if grounding himself in something real.
âThank youâŠâ
âI havenât even done anything yet,â you mused, tilting your head to capture his lips in a simple kiss before tucking his hair behind his ears.
But Zuko had meant it in all honesty. âFor being hereâ
âEven when it got hard. Even when everything changed⊠when it was an upheaval and adjustment for you.â
You had become his calm, the push and pull of water, steadying him when everything else felt uncertain.
And yet, despite the water that flowed through your veins, making you strong, composed, and grounding, there was a fire breathing beneath it.
It was obvious in the way you moved through the worldâquick to flare, quick to speak, quick to challenge anything that stirred too comfortably around you.
âThose eyes look as if they could do no wrong,â your finger traced the slope of his nose, slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to map him out, to revitalize the memory of him.
It lingered there for just a moment too longâenough to blur the line between thought and touchâbefore drifting down, over the heat of his cheek, across his jaw to pinch his chin.
His breath caught, subtle but sharp.
He didnât move at all, caught between the instinct to step back and the more dangerous urge to stay exactly where he was.
âBut itâs not enough to get you out of trouble,â
His body jolted upright.
The bathwater around him swayed at the suddenness. The illusion broken instantly, like heat breaking through glass.
He dragged a hand down his face. Once. Firm.
Exhaustion. That was all it was. A tired mind pulling shapes out of absence just to fill the missing and overexertion and the hunger.
Nothing more.
He pushed up through the water, muscles tightening as cold air met damp skin. Heavy droplets clung to him, sliding slowly down his shoulders and legs, tracing paths to corners touched by your heat.
For a moment, he stood there letting the realization settle back into something he could control. Then he stepped out of the tub.
The towel came around his waist in practiced motion. Water hit tile in uneven rhythms behind him as he dried his hair, wringing it out before clipping it back and walking into the room he'd been given.
Soft bedding, muted light, walls too clean to feel familiar. Comfortable, but not home. Not anything that could anchor the feeling heâd just shaken off. He crossed it anyway.
He dressed in silence, awkwardly folding each movement into the next like he'd long forgotten how to do it himself.
By the time he lay down in bed, at last, the room was dark except for the faint spill of city light through the window.
Sleep didnât come quickly, and so he stared at the ceiling, listening to the distant ensemble of Republic Cityâtoo alive to feel entirely restful. His mind drifted anyway: plans, routes, conversations yet to happen, versions of tomorrow that all ended in the same place.
Zuko closed his eyes. And eventually, after a long stretch of miseryâsleep finally took him.
âą.âżïž”Ë‿đŠâđ„ àŠËïž”âż.âą
The sun wasnât even up yet. Sokka stared into oblivion with a bag slung under his arm, blinking slowly like sleep itself was personally refusing him entry.
Toph flicked a pebble at him. It struck him square in the forehead.
âOWâhey!â Sokka yelped, stumbling sideways and nearly taking himself out on a crate. âWhat was that for?!â
âKeeping you awake,â Toph said. âYou were starting to look peaceful. It was disturbing.â
Zuko stepped past them, passing Aang the last of the supplies before climbing up onto Appa with the efficiency of someone ready to get back home.
âI feel like I shouldâve been consulted on this,â Sokka muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Katara didnât even turn around. âYou were.â
âI would remember being consulted.â
âYou were informed,â she corrected. âThen you complained.â
âI am not whiningâthis is strategic concern for my continued existence.â
Katara was unimpressed.
âI hate when the group consensus is âwe suffer together.ââ
âOh, donât be such a dramatic shrimp fry. Youâre the only one acting like this is a funeral march.â Toph laid down and pulled a blanket over herself and lay down.
With the long journey ahead, she might as well catch up on sleep
âIâm not being draââ he yawned mid-word, staggering slightly, âmatic.â
âSure.â
Aang tightened his cloak against the early morning chill. âEveryone ready?â
Zuko nodded. âLetâs go.â
âAppa, yip yipâ
Appa shifted beneath them with a low rumble, then launched into the air.
ïž”àŠïž”
The flight home filled with an anticipation Zuko had yet to process.
It was not the first time he'd been away from you this long.
Between diplomatic missions, routine territory checks, and military assessments, distance had become a familiar part of his life. But this time was different.
This was the only time he had left without telling you where he was going. And that sat with him miserably.
There was much to think aboutâbeyond the worry for you and his children. It was what lingered beneath that, something he had long claimed to have moved past. And yet, still kept him awake.
Years had passed. He had healed. He had⊠He had tempered those stubborn irrational flames that drove him. Gained loyal allies, true friendship, married the love of his life, named his first born through strength and legacy.
Why couldnât he forget the years shaped by hate and obsession?
He had once believed capturing the Avatar would prove his worth. That it would earn back his fatherâs love, his respect. But somewhere along that path, his ambition had twistedâand the that which he hunted had turned, and hunted him in back.
His honour had never known the golden glory of which existed so strongly today, at the same time, his heart sunk unbearably beneath the guilt such honour carried.
As a full day passed since they left Republic City, Appa flew as though time itself were pressing forward.
Aang could feel the anticipation build in the air surrounding Zuko, he and his bison shared the same understandingâfaster was better. The sooner they arrived, the sooner everything could finally settle.
With the second sunrise creeping over the horizon, Sokka and Toph snored their way through the early hours in complete disregard for dignity or altitude.
Katara and Aang sat closer together, speaking in low voices, their conversation soft enough to fade into the wind. Zuko remained near the edge of Appaâs saddle. He looked away from them.
He traced the familiar shapes of mountains and rivers as they passed beneath him, each landmark drawing him closer to homeâcloser to you, and he counted the minutes.
Quite literally.
Though how accurate he was, he couldn't tell. Only that home was getting closer.
When they crossed into Fire Nation territory, the land was scarred by craters of old destruction, softened now by layers of green grass and scattered wildflowers.
Time had not erased themâonly made them appear less frightening.
Sokka stirred at last.
He sat up, squinting at the light. He took in his surroundings, let out a long yawn, then moved closer to Zuko who watched as shapes began to form in the distance.
The roads grew more ordered. The settlements more structured. A different world unfolding as they neared the capital.
âAmazing,â Sokka breathed, genuine admiration softening his voice.
Things had changed since he was last there.
Zuko felt pride swell in his chest. It had taken all of them⊠but most of all, it had taken you. The Fire Nation was no longer something to fear. It was thriving.
By the time they arrived at the palace, the sun was high overhead, drawn near its peak.
They were all momentarily pulled from their grievances, awestruck by the bright banners stretched across the streets below, and the sound of voices rising in organized wavesâchants, cheers, a welcome that rolled through the capital.
Their arrival had been expected, it seemed. Likely your doing.
They offered their waves in return, Sokka a little more enthusiastic once he realized this wasnât a public execution.
Toph tilted her head. âWhatâs happening?â
âTheyâre cheering,â Aang said.
âYeah, I got that. What does it look like?â she shot back dryly.
âCheerful⊠alive,â Katara answered, an understatement to the welcome they received.
Appa stuck his landing with heavy force, wind rushing outward with a strong gust that sent he robes and banners snapping.
The members of court straightened immediately, then bowed in unison as their Fire lord stood to his full height.
And there he saw you. At the forefront, fury that rivalled his flamesâno smile, no softness, nothing but your gaze focused squarely on him.
Zuko descended from Appa, his feet meeting cold concrete, his shoulders poised.
He approached.
Even with a scowl firm upon your face, you wereâwithout questionâthe most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"My love" his voice lowered, tone of command gone, replaced with reverence of worship.
Behind him, Katara felt her chest tighten just slightly, warmth blooming as she watched it unfoldâthis quiet, undeniable proof of how far he had come from the boy who once burned too quickly for his own good.
But all good things must meet reality eventuallyâor in this case, a wife reminding her husband he was still in trouble, and no victory or sweet tone would get him out of it.
âWelcome home, Fire lord Zukoâ
His breath hitched for the smallest fraction of a second, not enough for anyone to call it out. Composure followed a half-beat late.
Behind you, his Advisor and Chamberlain stood rigid, guilt practically written into every wrinkle on their faces.
The court, usually so accustomed to political tension, held a bated breath for an entirely different reason now.
It wasnât fear of their Fire Lord that alerted them, it was the controlled fury of their Lady that unleashed when she saw her husband.
"Do you care to explain yourself, or shall I have the divorce papers drafted?"
Zukoâs collar suddenly felt tighter than it had any right to be. The fabric pressed against his throat like it had shrunk in the heat of the moment. His posture stayed upright out of habit, but something in him had clearly faltered.
âAang needed my help,â
The courtyard seemed to forget how to breathe.
The attendants stiffened altogether; one advisorâs scroll slipped slightly in his grip before he caught it too late, the rustle sounding far too loud.
Kataraâs stifled her amusement while Sokka made a small, strangled noise like he was deciding whether to laugh or pray.
Toph smirked faintly, head tilted as if listening to the emotional damage in real time.
Even Aang, somewhere in the group, looked personally betrayed by his own name being used as justification.
And at the centre of it all, the air between you and Zuko sweltered.
"Is that an excuse I hear?â
âNoââ
âSomeoneâs in trouble.â Sokka said with a grin that suggested he was enjoying this far too much.
It lasted exactly until Katara struck him lightly on the back of the head, silencing him mid-smirk.
âI was going to tell youââ
You side-stepped your husband mid-sentence. No hesitation.
They had all frozen, the Fire lord reduced not by battle, but by the displeasure of his wife.
âKataraâ
Your voice noticeably changed first. The warmth returned like nothing had happened. Like it had all been folded away in an instant and replaced.
Katara didnât hesitate as she crossed the space and pulled you into a tight embrace. Sisters through water, war, and everything that came after it.
Sokka, who had been raving in fear of your reaction was pulled into a hug too, which surprised him.
âWow. Pregnancy has changed you" he said before he could stop himself.
Katara immediately pinched him.
âBattle wounds? No. More like survival wounds from you violent people.â
Sokka barely had time to finish before Katara pinched him again, harder this time.
âOWâokay, okay!â he yelped, recoiling and rubbing his arm. âIâm kidding! Mostly kidding!â
You laughed softly, shaking your head. âItâs fine. Pregnancy has been messing with me, but Iâm in a good mood.â
âYou're lyingâ Toph chuckled.
âI'm trying to be in a good mood,â you corrected. âI haven't seen you guys in a while⊠A visit must've fell from your list of prioritiesâ
Toph gestured to Appa. âNot all of us have a flying bison or a fleet of airships, you know.â
âMhm.â You looked sideways. âZuko won't have an airship for a while either.â
That earned a quiet exhale from him.
He stepped closer toward you, but you moved away anyway.
A beat passed. Then Aang stepped forward last, a smile that hadn't truly reached his eyes.
You embraced him tightly.
âYou look worse for wear" you said.
âGetting betterâ he breathed out.
That seemed to ease something in you.
You stepped back, one hand resting over your stomach as your eyes moved across themâtaking in all of them at once.
The whole mess. The whole family. Back in one place, even if briefly.
Above you, Momo suddenly darted in a tight circle, chittering excitedly around your head.
âHello to you too, Momo,â you said, amused. âAnd Appa as well.â
You motioned once, and your lady servants quietly withdrew. âI've had someone prepare your rooms. I'm sure you'll want to rest. The kitchen has prepared a light mealâwe can meet for dinner tonightâ
Zuko exhaled halfway then stopped when you turned to him, and the breath heâd started to release stalled completely in his chest.
âAnd youâŠâ
âThe Avatar needed my help. I didn't know things wouldââ
âYou had the whole court lie for you!â
A beat.
The officials shifted first. Then the attendants. Then the guards.
Zuko raised a hand.
The courtyard moved. Footsteps scattered and scrambled. Armor clinked. Doors shut too quickly.
âHe lets them run but tells me to face my death with honour.â Sokka whispered to Toph.
âThat makes you less of a coward.â
Katara didnât hesitate when she grabbed Sokka by the ear and Toph by the forearm.
âAang!â she called sharply.
Aang blinked then hurriedly followed, leaving you and your husband alone in the courtyard.
âAre you really mad?â He asked softly, catching your face and tilting so your eyes met his.
âOh rest assured, Honourable Fire Lordââ you swat his hand away, âI am furious!â
You walked first. And he shadowed your every step.
No argument. No pride. Just footsteps behind you, matching your pace through the palace halls, through archway and past carved pillars.
When you finally reached the bedroom, the door shut behind him with a firm click.
You pulled the headpiece from your hairâthe one he had given youâand set it down onto the vanity harder than necessary.
âI am not some weak women who can't handle knowing her husband is needed for some greater purpose,â you said. âI do not need constant coddling for every matter you think might cause even the slightest negative reaction. I will not fall apart and I will not beg you to stay when Aang needs youâŠ
But I am your wife!â
His arm came around you carefully, folding over your swollen stomach first, grounding himself there as if that was the most honest place to start. His hold was warm, steady, deliberate.
"You are..." he affirmed with prideâwith certainty, submission and subservience that wasnât defeat but devotion.
He leaned his forehead briefly against your shoulder. âYou are my wife. And I know that.â
You slapped his hand. It stung, but he just refolded then into place again.
âLet goâ
âNoâ
You looked one sentence away from losing patience entirely. For a brief second, you even looked like you might hit him again.
Zuko, infuriatingly calm, smiled like he could read the thought forming. Then he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder, unbothered.
âIâll let go if you stop being angry.â
âNot a chanceâ
You elbowed him in the gut, easily manoeuvring out of his hold, slower but no less familiar with the way your body had been trained to move.
âFeisty woman,â he rasped, hunched over.
He said your name. No answer. Repeated it again.
You slammed your hands down on the table. âWhat were you thinking!?â
âI'm sorryâ
âYou hear that, little one? Thatâs what we call a half-hearted apology. A lie. Your father pulled that one straight from his ass.â
He was sincereânot just because he knew heâd upset you, or because you deserved an apology, but because he knew better. He knew better⊠and still doubted himself.
âI am sorry⊠but Iââ
âLeft. You left. With lies. With people keeping me in the dark because you thought it was best.
Where is your honour in that, Zuko?â
Your voice cracked.
The baby, as if sensing your distress, delivered a series of sharp kicks to your abdomen. You pressed your palm over your stomach, trying to soothe the movement, but the ache lingered.
âWhat if you died? You wouldâve left without a proper goodbye. I wouldâve known nothing. Nothing.â
Zuko finally movedâlike he was forcing himself not to recoil from the hurt in your voice. ââŠI didnât think further than what had happened last timeâ
The memory surfaced, uninvited. A civil war breaking out across the Nation. Smoke on the horizon. Orders lost in the collision. And youâpregnant, close to term, already carrying more weight than anyone should have had to.
There had been a complication then. One that had nearly forced him into a choice that still didnât feel real even years laterâhe was on the ground mid-battle when they told him. A decision he had never forgiven the world for making him consider.
So when Aangâs summons cameâimpossible to ignoreâhe had hesitated.
He had told himself he was protecting you by not telling you. By leaving quickly. By avoiding panic, avoiding stress, avoiding anything that might tilt the balance again.
But standing there now, watching your hands press into the table, watching the anger that came from love rather than distance, he understood what he had actually done.
He hadnât protected you.
He had repeated the mistake in a different way.
His throat tightened.
âI thoughtââ he started, then stopped. Because there was no version of that sentence that didnât fall apart halfway through.
ââŠI was wrong,â he said instead. âI should have told you. I should have trusted you with it.â
A pause.
âIt was foolish to leave. It was even more foolish to think I could have the entire court lie to you⊠keep you in the dark until things blew over⊠I was foolish.â
"You were."
"I wasâŠ"
No deflection. No attempt to soften it.
You hated him. But you couldn't deny him. He had tried, but he was still only human. Human in his mistakes, human in the way he carried them, and human in the way he sometimes let fear speak louder than trust.
Neither of you moved. But then you stepped forward.
Zuko raised his arm, and you walked into his embrace, your forehead pressing into his chest as your breath caught like youâd been holding it in for too long.
âIâm here,â he murmured, meant only for you.
His hand brushed along your jaw as he leaned inâslow enough to give you time, to let you pull away if you wanted to.
You didnât.
Your breath met his first. Then your lips.
Zuko left soft, lingering pecks along your bottom lip, unhurried, testing, like he was relearning something he had no right to rush.
Then, slowly, he deepened the kiss.
His hands came up to cradle your neck, warm. Always warm.
You swore he ran hotter than any fire bender alive. Not just heat, but presence.
Something constant, something that pressed into you without burningâunless you let it.
He was warmth in every sense of it. Like the thick summer air that clung to your skin, heavy and inescapableâŠ
And like a fire in the dead of winter, steady, consuming, offering comfort the moment you stepped too close to the cold.
He stroked your earlobe while his other hand found the inner corner of your robe, easing it from your shoulder.
Zuko hummed, pleased by the way you inclined toward his touch.
But you sooner pulled away, telling him to go ahead to the bath chamber.
When you joined him, towel set aside, your fingers found his belt, undoing the knot with practiced ease.
He didnât move. Didnât speak.
His eyes traced your every move while you carefully avoided his gaze.
You pushed his robes from his shoulders, letting the fabric fall away and onto your forearm.
Zuko he stepped back to remove his boots then the rest of his clothing, until nothing remained between him and you.
âCould youâŠâ you gestured toward the water.
âOf course,â he mused.
Zuko lifted his hand, and with an effortless breath, flame sparked to life in his palm. The water responded instantly, steam rising in soft curls with a gentle hiss, the surface rippling before it settled.
You sat on the low stone slated edge of the bath as he lowered himself into the water.
ââŠYouâre not joining me?â he asked.
âWaters too hot for me," you replied, reaching for a cloth.
You dipped it, then dragged it gently over his chest, over the bruises no water could heal.
Zuko had eased almost instantly under your care, the tension in his neck and shoulders unwinding as he rested his head against the stone.
His eyes closed, letting you take care of him.
ïž”àŠïž”
His face sank into the plush mattress, inhaling the faint trace of your scent that lingered in every crease of the sheets.
A low groan escaped him as his body finally registered how tired it was. His arms stretched out loosely, then went still, like even moving felt optional now.
âWhereâs Atsumi?â
âAsleep. Sheâs been running a terrible fever.â
Half-lidded eyes shot open. Halfway through getting up, you pressed a hand firmly to his chest and pushed him back down.
Zuko's breath hitched.
âShe hasn't slept well in two days. She needs restâŠâ
âThen I shouldââ
You didnât let him.
âCarry on,â you said flatly.
Zuko exhaled through his nose, tension easing in reluctant stages. His shoulders sank back into the mattress, the fight draining out of him.
âSheâs going to hate that I didnât check on her immediately,â he muttered.
âI spent two nights consoling her cries all while dealing with this little Firestarter in my stomach kicking and acting up. Youâre not going to wake her.â
He cupped your thigh as you came to straddle him, thumb rubbing circles.
âI shouldâve been here,â he said quietly.
âYou are here now.â
âThatâs not the same.â
âNo,â you agreed. âItâs not. But because of you, we're still hereâ
ââŠIs she really alright?â
âAs alright as any child with your temperament could beâ you said.
That earned the smallest, tired curve at the corner of his mouth.
âSheâs more like youâŠâ
She was. But she looked exactly like him.
âThatâs what Iâm afraid of,â you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair⊠a little insecure of it.
Zuko kissed your clothed inner-thigh before he smoothly flipped your positions.
He lifted your leg to wrap around his waist, lowering you into the position he was just in. Then, like he couldn't help himself, he face invaded your personal spaceâno such thing existed between you.
A kiss to your cheek, your forehead, then the bridge of your nose. His hand found yours, fingers threading tightly with yours against the sheets before he raised them above your head.
âYou have nothing to fear,â he whispered.
âBeside my husband sneaking off on suicide missions.â
âAside from thatâŠâ
Zuko caressed the back of your hand, his touch slow and deliberate, before lifting your joined hands to his mouth.
Your leg tightened around his waist. He made a low sound in the back of his throat, half a grunt and half pleading. He looked at your through his eyelashesâin worship⊠with unveiled devotion.
You skimmed your fingers up the column of his throatâover the thick pulsing veinâpausing at his scar.
He went still as you kissed it.
The heat flourished in his cheeks, not just embarrassment or shyness, but something far more vulnerableâenough to bring him to tears.
He kissed you before they ever fellâbefore he could retreat into his pain instead of his heart.
âą.âżïž”Ë‿đŠâđ„ àŠËïž”âż.âą
The last remnants of the day had begun to flee when you, flushed and exhausted, pulled yourself out from beneath the blanket and sank back onto your pillow. Zuko's insatiable hunger followed instinctivelyâtoo close, too heated.
You pushed at his shoulder before he could hover over you completely.
He laid a kiss onto you stomach, the gesture reverent. The baby kicked which warmed his heart.
Lowering himself until his ear rested against it, nuzzling his nose against the stretched skin.
Endearments whispered his loveâthe ache in your bones a testimony to it.
âWe should get ready for dinnerâŠâ you mumbled weakly.
âNot obliged to attend,â Zuko replied, unmoving, still half-lounged against you like he had no intention of letting go.
âCourtesyâŠâ You sat up.
He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath before sitting up properly, dragging a hand through his hair to reset himself into something resembling a Fire Lord again.
But the softness didnât fully leave his face. Not when he stared at you.
You rolled your shoulder with a wince, working out the tension still lingering there.
Without a word, he crossed the space between you.
His silk robe draped over your shoulders, adjusted it gently, fingertips brushing briefly as he made sure it covered well.
âAs you wish.â
And so he did.
From the bath to the cloth, from lifting you in and out and carrying you about, from laying out your dress and seeing you fit for the hallâZuko had done it all.
By the time you entered the dining hall, the others were already seated.
Zuko led you in with your hand set light upon his forearm. His hair bound up neat and proud, the Fire Nation emblem set through it, gold catching the lamp-light and casting a warm gleam over the roomâs high beams and carved stone.
You took the first step in. Then, just as you had almost reached the table, a small blur sprang from Aangâs lap and darted across the room in a flash of light and laughter.
Zuko dropped at once to one knee, swift as a striking hawk, and caught the child with ease before she could collide with his legs.
âPapa!â she cried, laughing so hard it came out like a squeal.
At the sound, Zukoâs heart was pried open with joy.
His arms closed around her small body without hesitation, his entire composure shifted in an instant to her father.
Kataraâs face softened at once, and Aang watched her with a look that held both warmth and wonder. You saw it.
And you smiled just slightly as you took your seat.
Sokka, already halfway through pouring a drink, slid a glass toward you with exaggerated seriousness.
âFor the Lady of the Fire Nation,â he said, tryingâand failingânot to look smug about the chaos he was witnessing.
Zuko lifted her with ease as she tugged at his collar and pointed at nothing in particular with the absolute certainty of a child who believed everything belonged to her.
âI found him,â she announced proudly to no one and everyone.
âYou always do,â Zuko said, almost amused, pressing a brief kiss to her hair.
Zuko sat beside you, his daughter in his lap. But she stayed no longer than a minute before she was up and dangling onto Sokka's shoulder.
With everyone seated and settled, though âsettledâ was a generous word for it. You began to eat.
Your daughterâwho by all means should have been limp and fever strickenâhad decided otherwise.
She clung to Sokkaâs shoulder one moment, nearly toppling over into his plate of food the next. He yelped, simultaneously catching her and his plate.
âHey, hey⊠tiny tyrant, sit down!â
But she had slipped from him like water, already darting after Momo, who chittered in alarm and delight as he took flight just out of her reach.
Zuko watched her with a mix of disbelief and quiet awe, like he couldnât quite decide whether to intervene or admire the sheer force of her will.
âShe was sick?â he murmured under his breath.
You shrugged.
Atsumi, after several laps around the dining table, finally slowed and squeezed her way between Katara and Aang, picking up the little bison stuffed toy she had left in their care earlier.
Conversation had found its rhythm. Old friends catching up. Distant family telling tales.
You listened. You replied. You added where needed.
But eventually, almost without noticing, the conversation had deepened.
ââŠAnd the damage?â you asked.
Zukoâs hand stilled slightly beside yours.
Aang glanced up. Kataraâs posture straightened just enough to be noticed. Even Sokka quieted, though he tried to hide it behind a bite of food.
âLater then,â you glanced at Zuko.
Sokka, ever the first to recover, leaned back on his hands. âGreat. âLater.ââ
Toph snorted. âYou act like youâre the one in trouble.â
âI am in trouble,â Sokka shot back. âI was there. I participated. I enabledââ
âIf anyoneâs in trouble⊠itâs Zuko,â
Zuko shot her a look of warning immediatelyâbut there was no real bite to it.
He was just grateful you were currently occupied with redirecting your daughter away from Momoâs tail before she discovered yet another way to test the limits of her mothers patience.
ââŠShe shouldnât have this much energy.â
You huffed, sitting down with her.
Aang smiled faintly at that. âI remember someone else who didnât know when to stop.â
Zuko pursed his lips.
ââŠYou chased me across the world.â
Sokka pointed between them. âEveryone here has a history of making questionable decisions but Iâm always the liability?â
âYou are the liability,â Toph said flatly.
âI am the glue of this group.â
âYouâre the gum that gets stuck under my barefoot,â she shot back.
You and Katara shared a laugh.
âSo what will happen now?â you asked, looking over your daughters head as she climbed into your lap without permission and then dove into her fathers lap when he sat.
He was breathing heavy.
Atsumi had made him chase her around the room, laughter echoing between the tables until even the guards had started pretending not to watch.
You argued it was dinner and he had already eaten half of his meal, but Zuko didnât know how to say no to herâespecially not when she looked at him like that.
Aang set his bowl down before answering, his tone thoughtful, already a step ahead in planning. âWeâll head back to Republic City. Thereâs still work to be doneâ
Sokka groaned softly. âAh yes, more work. My favourite.â
âYou donât do the work,â Katara said.
âI supervise the work.â
âYou eat during the work.â
âI fuel morale.â
Toph flicked a raisin at him.
Ignoring them, Aang concluded. âAfter that⊠Iâll be taking the new Acolytes to the place Sonan mentioned.â
Zuko glanced between them before speaking. âI can have airships prepared by morning, if you'd need it.â
Aang nodded in quiet appreciation. âThat would help.â
Katara glanced at him. âYouâre sure about this?â
âItâs time,â Aang said simply.
Zuko considered that. âLet me know what you need. Supplies. Support. Anything.â
Aang met his gaze and nodded once.
âI will.â
Eventually, you had the table cleared and replaced with light desserts and tea because no one seemed ready to head to bed yet. The atmosphere was warm. Unrushed. The company welcomed.
And in that small pocket of noise, you leaned slightly toward Zuko.
Your voice droppedâlow enough that it belonged only to him.
âYou should go with them.â
He stilled.
âYou want me to leave again?â he asked quietly.
You smiled, faint yet certain. âI want you to see thereâs still hope.â
Your words sunk inâfinding places within his soul that had learned to never complain again. The past was not something he spoke of often, but it lived in him all the same.
The Fire Nation had taken everything from Aangâs⊠and even now, it still kept him up at nightâhaunting thoughts that never went away no matter how much time had passed or how much he had tried to make right what could be made right.
It was part of the reason he had moved so quickly when Aangâs message arrived.
And though he had not been the one to begin it, he had once chased its ending for all the wrong reasons.
That guilt had never quite left.
Your hand brushed lightly against his beneath the table.
âThat isnât yours to carry alone, nor is it hisâ you added, looking across the table.
Aang laughed boisterously at something Sokka had said.
âYou think I can help with that?â
You didnât hesitate.
âI know you can.â
Zukoâs eyes flicked toward him.
Toward the future being built in small, stubborn pieces.
âUhm⊠guysâ just letting you know⊠she's really hot," Sokka said, wide-eyed as she clung to him with alarming determination.
âAtsumiâ Zuko called.
Her fever must be returning.
At once, she looked up. And just as quicklyâfaster than she ever listened to anyone else, faster than when you calledâshe broke away from Sokka and returned to her fathers side.
No hesitation. No protest.
âIâll take her to get her medicineâ
Zuko stood for the hundredth time that night.
He bent down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. There was still too much left unspoken behind his eyes, too many thoughts he hadnât yet sorted into words.
He lifted your daughter carefully into his arms as if she were the most natural extension of himself.
Then he turnedâalready halfway gone in his mind. Tethered only by habit, by love, by everything he had built and still didnât quite believe he deserved.
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I know how painful and frustrating it is to start over from scratch, but I hope to get any amount for my family đ„șđ.
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So, please, donate to my campaign, even if it's a small amountâit will have a big impact on us đ„ș. May God bless you, my friend đ„°â€ïž.
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fatigue crept up your spine, agonizing and slow, already seeping through and making a home of your bones until they felt unbearably heavy to carry. and the cruel joke of this whole thing was that sleep didn't stick.
the bed sat empty under the deep crimson curtains surrounding it. well-woven sheets fixed over the mattress, masking its emptiness to make it appear less like the void and more inviting. but to you, those kinds of tricks never worked.
your eyes raked over the city, taking in every little detail; how softly the streetlights burned into the night, one flickering until it shined again.
"why are you up so late?" he spoke softly, as if he hadn't slipped away from your side to answer another one of the chamberlain's requests. an important council meeting demanding the firelord's presence and undivided attention, so urgent that he was out the door before he could breathe in the scent of your shared room.
the corners of his lips twitched into a soft smile, closing the distance between you with quiet steps, always within arm's reach if the situation allowed it. "scheming?" he mused right next to your ear, hands naturally sliding around your frame to press you closer while his breath fanned on the exposed skin of your neck.
"the world is so peaceful." it was as simple as that. some people thrive when the light of day hits their skin, others prefer the silence of night taking over the earth despite being married to the sun.
he hummed, planting a careful kiss on your shoulder. his hold on you loosened just for a moment, the option of moving away lay at your feet, an amused huff escaping his lungs when you inched closer.
"it's quiet... for now." the scent of silk and contentment stuck to him like a stubborn cold. "but you should be sleeping, love."
with a last peck, he reluclantly pulled away from you, disappearing in the darkness of the bedroom and letting you admire the way the moonlight left no place unlit, hugging the capital like a protective veil.
so you stood there, undeniably in awe, finding the beauty in everyday things when reality forces you to rush through the alluring lie of life that's handed to you on a silver platter.
"your tea, fire lady." the sound of his voice snapped you out of it, turning around to come across a sight so unfamiliar, you almost choked on your own spit.
"what are you doing?" you muffled a laugh.
he tilted his head at your question, like you were the one acting weird for seeing a firelord bowing deeply before his wife while holding out a cup of tea for her to take. "i learned a new recipe."
a flick of his wrist, and you watched warm waves swirl in a delicate dance with the golden hues of honey, sparkling in a way that imitated the stars almost perfectly. just then noticing the two tiny flowers floating on the surface, where bubbles bloomed.
"uncle said chamomile tea helps people with... sleep. maybe it could help you" he explained as you parted your lips to taste what he had brewed, fingertips lingering on the porcelain, mind stuck on the comforting sensation of heat seeping through. "careful, it's hot."
his skills on the matter had improved greatly, to put it simply. but, in other words, he'd learn control, put it into practice, and he'd been so thorough that his own fragrance got captured in the steam caressing your face.
when a satisfied hum left your lips, he found himself staring, "good?" it takes him a few seconds to relax his shoulders, fingers ghosting over your jawline as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear so it wouldn't fall in your face.
you nodded, savoring the sweetness and the bitterness that followed with a newfound floral aftertaste, blowing bubbles in your tea right after.
"drink up, before it gets cold." he scolded, playfully rolling his eyes at your antics and sighing dramatically, but he couldn't help the amusement or the admiration he felt for you.
he never left your side, even when your soft breaths were the only thing that echoed in grand bedroom, nestled by his side just moments and a few short conversations later. you'd find him there, arms around your frame, in the morning, under the sunlight's first rays.