The Things You Left Behind
pairing: toph x fem! reader
summary: you wrote in your diary until the end of your lifetime. before your final moment, you revealed it to toph, something for her to have after your death. years after reader's death, toph still carries their old diary everywhere without ever opening it. when lin finally offer to read it outlaid, mother and daughter spends an evening rediscovering the woman they both loved.
contains: slight angst, hurt/comfort(?), death, family, grief and healing, parenthood, emotional comfort, established relationship, post-canon, bittersweet
Three years after your death, the diary you used to write in was revealed to Toph. Unable to read, and still trying to recover after your death, the diary sat exactly where Toph had left it. She didn't hide it, but she didn’t display it either. It was just... there.
On the small table beside her favorite chair. Close enough to reach when she wanted something to remember you by. Close enough to touch, but never had the courage to open and read it. Not that she could anyway. At first, everyone assumed she wasn't interested. It has been 3 years afterall, however that assumption went away after 3 years and 10 days.
Suyin was away on a little family vacation with her own family now. Lin decided it’s the perfect time to come over to visit, something about needing her mom’s help with a case. And also lowkey checking up to see how she was doing. She stayed for a week.
During this visit, Toph Beifong wasn't subtle.
She'd pick the diary up sometimes while drinking tea. Set it back down. Move it to another room. Bring it back. Leave it on the porch then take it inside when it rains, afraid of ruining the only thing left by her late wife. The book practically followed her around.
Lin noticed almost immediately. Of course she did. For all the ways she resembled her mother, Lin had inherited your ability to notice things people wanted hidden. She never mentioned it out loud. Not at first. She simply watched and waited because some grief needed time. Even for Toph. Especially for Toph.
One evening, Lin arrived for lunch carrying a stack of reports. Toph was sitting outside, enjoying the afternoon sun. The diary rested beside her tea. Again.
Lin sat down across from her. Neither spoke for a while. They didn't need to. The silence between them had long since become comfortable. Eventually, Lin glanced toward the worn leather cover. Then toward her mother. Then back again. "Still carrying it around?"
Toph immediately scowled. "I don't carry it around."
"You moved it three times while I was walking up the path."
Lin didn't bother arguing. Experience had taught her there was no point. Instead she poured herself a cup of tea and took a sip.
A few moments passed, and she asked quietly, "Have you read it yet?"
Toph's shoulders stiffened. Just slightly. Most people wouldn't have noticed.
"No." She scoffed. The answer came immediately. “Not that I can anyway.”
The truth was more complicated. The diary represented something Toph wasn't sure she was ready for. Not because she was afraid of what you'd written.
She was afraid of hearing your voice again. Afraid of missing you more than she already did. Afraid of opening a wound she'd spent years learning how to carry. Because grief never truly left. It simply became familiar.
Lin looked down at the diary. Then back up. "Do you want me to?" For the first time that afternoon, Toph didn't answer. The question settled between them. For three years, the diary had remained closed because opening it felt impossibly hard. Now it didn't. Now all she had to do was say yes.
The silence stretched. Birds chirped somewhere nearby. A breeze rustled through nearby trees. Eventually Toph sighed. The kind of sigh usually reserved for accepting defeat. "...Fine."
Lin smiled. Small. Soft. Toph heard the little breath that Lin made when she smiled, a habit that Lin picked up from you. It was almost identical to yours. And suddenly Toph hated both of you a little.
They moved inside. The evening light filtered through the windows, painting long golden shadows across the room. Toph settled into her couch. Lin sat nearby with the diary in her lap. For a moment neither moved. The weight of it felt strangely significant. Then Lin opened the cover. The pages crackled softly. Old paper. Well loved and well kept.
The first entry made Lin laugh immediately. "Today I met the most infuriating girl I've ever known." Toph groaned.
A pause. Then Lin continued reading. "She's rude, stubborn, arrogant, and completely impossible to reason with."
Another pause. "I think we're going to be friends."
Toph barked out an unwilling laugh. And just like that, the tension broke. A little, but not completely. But it was enough.
The next few entries followed Team Avatar's journey. Stories Lin had heard growing up. Arguments, adventures, missions that had gone wrong, moments that had become legends and yet hearing them through your eyes made them different. More personal and more alive.
At one point Lin had to stop because she was laughing too hard. Apparently, there had been an entire journal entry dedicated to Toph refusing to admit she'd caught a cold. Toph defended herself immediately. "I was fine." According to the diary, she'd sneezed six times in under a minute.
The fact that she still sounded offended decades later only made it funnier.
Hours passed, neither of them noticed. Their stack of reports was forgotten. Their tea grew cold and the sky darkened. Still, Lin kept reading. Eventually the stories changed, the adventures became quieter, the entries became older. Many memories that Toph had buried came rushing back to her, and instead of feeling sad over those memories, it was replaced by nostalgia.
Lin flipped the page. She reached one that made her pause before deciding to read it out loud for her mom. "Today, Lin called me ‘mom’ for the first time."
The room went silent as Lin stared at the page, then slowly continued.
"I don't think she realized she'd said it until afterward. The poor girl looked horrified. Toph pretended she wasn't emotional about it, but I could hear her pacing outside the bedroom afterward."
Lin immediately turned to her mother. Toph looked away. "...You paced?"
"No." She quickly denied.
Lin raised an eyebrow and Toph crossed her arms. "I was walking." The distinction meant absolutely nothing. Lin laughed softly then she continued. "Sometimes I worry that Lin thinks I replaced someone. I hope one day she understands that love doesn't work like that. There was never a place to take. There was only more room to make."
The words hit harder than either of them expected.
Lin lowered the diary slightly. For a moment she couldn't speak. Because she remembered those years. The uncertainty along with the confusion. The fear that her mother will ditch her. And now here was proof that you'd seen it all. Every bit of it. Without judgment. Without resentment. Only with love.
Toph remained quiet. But Lin noticed the way her mother's hands had tightened slightly so she kept reading.
Hours later, they reached entries about Suyin, then their grandchildren, and then family gatherings with Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Zuko. Years and years of memories preserved between pages carried in this thick book. Some made them laugh, some made them cry. Most did both.
And through it all, your voice slowly filled the room. Not literally, but close enough. For the first time since your death, it felt less like you'd disappeared and more like you'd stepped into another room.
Eventually, Lin turned to one of the final entries. By the end of it, the handwriting had become shakier. The date is more recent but still a few years ago.
The room grew quiet. Neither woman spoke. Lin swallowed, then she began reading.
"To whoever is reading it out loud for my wife; I think I've had a good life.” Toph immediately turned to stare at the ground. "Not a perfect one. We made mistakes. Spirits know we made enough of those, but if I had to do it all again, I would."
The words became harder to read. For Toph, it became harder to hear.
"I would choose every adventure. Every argument. Every heartbreak. Every reconciliation." Lin's voice softened. "And I would choose Toph."
There was a brief moment of silence.
"Again and again and again."
The room seemed smaller somehow. "I know she won't like reading this part." Toph immediately muttered, "Correct."
Lin smiled through tears. "But she should know anyway."
"Loving Toph Beifong was the easiest decision I ever made."
Lin stopped. Not because the entry ended, but because she couldn't continue for a moment. Toph sat perfectly still across from her.
Years of grief and the years of missing you. Years of carrying your absence. Yet, somehow those simple words pierced straight through all of it. Eventually, Lin continued reading as her voice grew quieter now.
"When my time comes, I hope she keeps living. I hope she laughs. I hope she annoys people. I hope she tells terrible jokes. I hope she knows she was loved every day of my life." The final sentence nearly broke both of them.
"And if there's anything waiting afterward, I'll be there."
The room fell silent. Neither of them moved nor spoke.
Outside, night had fully arrived. The stars shone beyond the windows. The world continued turning. The diary sat on Lin’s lap as she processed her late mother’s words. After a long while, Lin carefully closed the diary. The sound echoed softly through the room. For a moment she thought Toph might say something. Maybe some sarcastic comment. Throw a complaint or even attempt to hide what she was feeling. Instead, her mother leaned close and placed a hand on top of the diary. And simply held it there like she was holding your hand. Almost like she wasn't ready to let go yet.
And for once, Lin didn't try to fix it. She didn't offer any advice nor did she fill the silence. She just got up and sat beside her. The way you would have. The way family does. And together, they listened to the quiet.
a/n: hiiii, my first toph fanfic...erm, i never wrote on tumblr before, kinda nervous...hope you guys like it. i was impatient waiting for more toph fanfic to be released so yeahhhhh
