#jian birds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taizi · 2 months

Text

gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought.

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay.

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt.

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down.

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again.

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget.

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there.

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.”

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without.

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly.

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there.

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.

“Now.”

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #my writing #svsss fic #sy transmigrates into a blank role in a world where his favorite character exists #and he's supposed to - what ? NOT fulfill his personal fantasy of being lbh's best friend ?? ok 🙄#naturally binghe has been obsessed since the moment this pretty boy first smiled at him #bingbing i love you you deserve a good shixiong / future wife and i'm here to deliver #ALSO sy's sword name is (yǒng) meaning perpetual ; eternal ; forever #and 亮 (liàng) meaning bright ; clear ; to show ; to shine #in my mind's eye zheng yang is golden so yong liang's silvery white is the perfect compliment #YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO THE SUN & MOON SHIP DYNAMIC 🫵#heaven and hell were words to me

199 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 2 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FOUR

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You go to the zoo with Ty Lee. Later, you and Jia-Li watch a brutal confrontation between Kaho and an underclassman.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: big reveal HAHA jia-li is ruon-jian’s sister and kaho is chan’s!! idk if that was what people were expecting or not but i thought it was funny so here we are

To Zuko,

I suppose that, if you really are set on it, it would not hurt me to think of you as my friend. I hope that you are prepared for what that may entail.

I jest. I do not think I am a particularly difficult person to have as a friend, though you might get a more honest review from Ty Lee or Jia-Li. At least in my own opinion (which one might find to be unfairly high), I am agreeable enough to get along with most people — at least those who are agreeable in return (so, not Kaho).

Ty Lee and I went to the zoo. It was entertaining. I am fond of animals, and I found I enjoyed myself more at the zoo than in the academy. At least the birds sound pretty when they screech! The same cannot be said for my dear classmates, who are of the disposition to speak quite incessantly but without anything of substance or value to contribute.

My classes have been going well. I am already at the top of the year, which is partially due to how much I study and partially due to a different factor. I will not call it memory, because it is nothing that that is personal to me, but it is true that at times I will understand something before our teacher has even taught it. I must have been a very learned Fire Nation soldier, indeed.

I had to watch an Agni Kai. One of the girls in the year below us fought Kaho. Of course, she lost. It is such a brutal custom, you know…though of course I understand the cultural significance, it is not a joy to watch. Certainly, I don’t understand how some of the girls were eating snacks and placing bets on the outcome. Luckily, the girl who went against Kaho is alright. Kaho let her off with only a small burn, but it could’ve been much worse.

In better news, Jia-Li has invited me to spend the next break at her house on Ember Island! So I will go there instead of taking up space at the palace. I am excited — I am not sure if I’ve ever been to the ocean or not. It will be exciting to see it for the first time; or, if not for the first time in my life, then for the first time that I will remember. Of course, I will continue to write to you even on vacation, and Jia-Li has already said that I can borrow her clothes and things, so there should be no strain put upon you. If there were, then I would not even suggest it.

The next time I shall see you in person will be after the term is properly over, then. I look forward to it will hopefully be the Fire Nation lady you want me to be by then.

From, Your friend Ursa

P.S. You should not be surprised by what I am about to say: I still don’t remember anything.

“Wow,” Ty Lee said, chewing on a piece of candy as the two of you walked down a gravel pathway together. “I still can’t believe we got free admission!”

“Apparently, all students do,” you said, holding out your hand. She dropped the small, round, fruit-flavored disks in your palm, and you popped it in your mouth, smiling at the burst of flavor. “Though it makes sense they don’t advertise that.”

The Strategy Mistress was sick, so you all had been given leave to spend the afternoon as you pleased. Ty Lee had offered to take you to the zoo with her, remembering that you had mentioned wanting to go when you had woken up in the palace, and you had jumped at the chance to not be in the suffocating dormitory for a little while.

At the moment, you and her were standing in front of the dragon moose enclosure, watching as they grazed. One of the dragon moose had a calf, and it was a sweet looking animal, somehow adorable in its awkward ugliness. As you watched, it had a spurt of energy, jumping and bucking through the pasture, racing along the fence line and only skidding to a stop when it realized it was being ignored. Its ears drooped as it trotted back to its mother’s side, lowering its head to the grass once again.

“These dragon moose look a little different than the ones that pull the carriages,” Ty Lee said.

“Oh, I know why that is,” you said, eager to prove your competence. “Dragon moose are actually only native to one small part of the Fire Nation. The ones that pull our carriages are the offspring of ones that were domesticated many centuries ago. They’ve been selectively bred to best fit our purposes almost since the day our ancestors first tamed them, so they’ve evolved into very different looking animals. The wild dragon moose, such as these ones, never had that push to evolve and optimize to our needs, so they look the same as they have for all of those centuries.”

“You sure do know a lot, Ursa,” Ty Lee said gamely. “Was that school knowledge, book knowledge, or past knowledge?”

“Book knowledge,” you said. “I don’t know if I was that interested in the convergent evolution of domestic and wild dragon moose in my previous life.”

Ever since the first day of your classes, when you had discovered a mysterious aptitude and innate understanding of the rules of etiquette, you and Ty Lee had come up with three categories: school knowledge, book knowledge, and past knowledge. School knowledge referred to the things that you learned in your lessons, the offhand comments and the droning lectures that you remembered better than anyone else in your year. Book knowledge was the summation of the many pages upon pages you had committed to memory, encompassing everything from the political structures of the Fire Nation to the fauna of the Northern Water Tribe. Finally, past knowledge was the most mysterious and ambiguous category, because it meant the random things you just knew in your mind, even though you had no real reason to.

More things than you were really comfortable with fell into that latter category. It really didn’t feel fair — why was it that you could recall the pillars of etiquette and the different battle formations of the Soldiers of Agni, but not anything about who you had been in the past? Why was your identity, which you wanted to know the most, the only thing you could not remember?

In the middle of the zoo was a large, artificial lake. You and Ty Lee stopped at the fence and leaned over to watch the flying dolphin fish leap through the air before diving back into the water with great splashes. A little ways away from you, a child raced up to the fence and gripped it, staring at the flying dolphin fish in awe. One of the fish noticed him and swam over towards him before slamming its tail against the surface of the lake, bowling the child over in a great deluge of salty brine.

You and Ty Lee exchanged looks, neither of you laughing until you saw the other’s face, whereupon you burst into fits of giggles, unable to hold them in any longer.

“Should we go help him?” you gasped out, wiping away the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Ty Lee, who was doubled over at this point, shook her head.

“I think — I think his mother’s got him,” she said breathlessly. True to her word, an adult woman was yelling at the boy as he wailed, still face-down and drenched to the bone.

“He should’ve just stayed with the turtle ducks,” you said, shaking your head and pointing at the small flock floating placidly along, far from the mischievous flying dolphin fish. “They’re so cute!”

“From what I remember, there’s a petting zoo area somewhere in the zoo, if you want to try feeding turtle ducks,” Ty Lee said. “I wasn’t able to see it when I came with Azula and Mai, though, because Azula hates turtle ducks.”

“Hates turtle ducks? How could someone hate them? They’re so sweet and guileless,” you said. “Was she wronged by one as a child?”

“You could say that,” Ty Lee said. She didn’t offer further explanation, but considering you had never even met Princess Azula, you didn’t blame her. Whatever her past with the turtle ducks was, it was the princess’s own secret to keep or share at her own discretion.

It took you a while to find the petting zoo, as they had no signs, so you had to ask people to point you in the correct direction. Unfortunately, most of the people that you asked were other visitors, and by the time you finally found a staff member to take you there, you had all but given up on the prospect of going at all.

“Mostly, the people who come to the petting zoo are kids, or at least have some of their own,” the zookeeper said. Ty Lee scowled at her.

“Some of us are young at heart!” she snapped, earning a snort from you and a bewildered look from the zookeeper, who raised her hands in the air and back away.

“I cannot believe that was your response to her,” you said as you reached the counter where a different zookeeper handed you little bags of food to give to the animals.

“I panicked,” Ty Lee admitted. “But really, she had no reason to be judging us! It’s her own job that relies on visitors like us. Who cares about how old we are?”

“Quite right, Ty Lee, and anyways it can be argued that I have about as much life experience as a child, in one way, so she really has no ground to stand on,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say you’re all too childlike,” Ty Lee said. “You act like most anyone else our age would. Maybe more mature, even, but certainly not less, even though you have no memories.”

“Of course, it isn’t as if the effects of my formative experiences on my psyche have been erased just because I can’t remember them,” you said. “They still shaped my spirit, even if I cannot recall how they did so.”

Unfurling your fingers and offering your hand to one of the dragon moose — which was of the domesticated variety, not one of the wild ones from earlier — you used your other hand to rub its forehead.

“Ew! It slobbered all over me!” Ty Lee said as the dragon moose she was feeding swiped its long tongue over her now-empty palm and then across her cheek, ignoring her attempts to shove it off of her.

“That must mean it likes you,” you said. She stopped trying to shove it away, her expression growing contemplative as the dragon moose used its lips to play with her long braid.

“Aw,” she said. “Now I feel kinda bad for being so mean.”

“I don’t think it’s offended, but maybe you should get your braid out of its mouth before it chews it off,” you said. Ty Lee yelped and yanked her braid out of the dragon moose’s grasp, jumping away to stand behind you.

“As soon as we get back to the academy, I’m going to have to shower,” she said, shuddering.

“You do smell somewhat like dragon moose,” you said, sniffing her delicately and then wrinkling your nose. “Wanna go back to the flying dolphin fish? I’m sure they’d be happy to rinse you off.”

“Very funny!” she said.

“It feels like you don’t think it’s that funny,” you said, snickering. “Which is a shame, because I do.”

“Let’s just go see the turtle ducks. They’re the whole reason we came here,” she said, stomping off.

“You don’t want to visit the hippo cow?” you said, pointing at the enormous beast that was allowing toddlers to clamber over it as it dozed with one eye open.

“I don’t even want to think about how things could go wrong if I go near that,” Ty Lee said. “Turtle ducks are nice and safe and little. As I said, let’s go there.”

These turtle ducks were kept in a pond which had no fence, allowing them to wander about as they pleased, swimming amongst the lilies blooming in the water and hiding in the bulrushes on the part of the bank further from the path.

Crouching, you broke off pieces of lettuce and threw them towards the turtle ducks. They paddled over and began to squabble amongst themselves, racing to snag the treats before their companions.

Ty Lee joined you, and for a little bit, the two of you were quiet, tossing lettuce at the turtle ducks and observing them eat. Only once all of your lettuce had run out did Ty Lee speak again.

“I thought turtle ducks ate bread,” she said.

“They do,” you said. “They love it a lot, which is why people give it to them. But it’s bad for them. Makes their stomachs upset.”

“Then why do they love it?” she said. “If it makes them sick, why do they keep eating it?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “It must taste very nice. Sometimes, it’s like that, I guess. You do things that you know are bad for you because you think that they are good.”

Ty Lee glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “School knowledge or book knowledge?”

“Neither,” you said. “Past knowledge, I think.”

You couldn’t explain it, but then again, when had you ever been able to explain your past knowledge? Ty Lee exhaled but did not question you, which you were grateful for. You doubted you could’ve explained further, anyways.

“There you are!” Jia-Li hissed when you and Ty Lee walked into the dormitory building together. The light mood of the outing had faded after you had fed the turtle ducks, a pensive melancholy settling over you both in place of the earlier humor as the two of you considered your own respective thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” you said.

“Where have you guys been?” she said.

“We were at the zoo,” Ty Lee said.

“Didn’t I tell you before we left? Did something happen? Oh no, did the Strategy Mistress suddenly feel better and decide to hold class after all?” you said. “We have an exam coming up. If I missed a class, then I’m going to have to double down on my studying.”

“Those are words I never want to hear from your mouth again,” Ty Lee said. “How can you ‘double down’ on your studying when you already spend almost every waking moment doing exactly that? I mean, there’s only so many hours in a day, you know!”

“Never mind all of that!” Jia-Li said. “No, the Strategy Mistress is still sick, so you didn’t miss anything — at least, nothing academic.”

“Good,” you said. “I don’t mind missing anything else. Which I’m assuming we did, considering you look near to fainting, Jia-Li.”

“One of those idiots in the class below us has been spending the entire afternoon antagonizing Kaho! I’m afraid she’s going to blow up, and sooner rather than later,” Jia-Li explained.

“That sounds like something I’d like to be far away from,” you said. “We should’ve stayed at the zoo a bit longer, Ty Lee.”

“Mhm,” Ty Lee said emphatically. “I’d take dragon moose slobber any day!”

“I don’t think this girl realizes what she’s getting into,” Jia-Li said. “See, the thing is, whenever you’re around, Ursa, Kaho’s too busy hating you to get annoyed by anyone else. But since you were gone all afternoon, she’s had nowhere to channel her inner anger.”

You made a face. “So? Are you suggesting that I should’ve stayed around and let her be rude to me or something?”

“Not at all,” Jia-Li reassured you. “It’s more that she’s seemed downright gentle recently — or, I guess, gentler. That’s why that girl thinks she has a chance, but the truth is in terms of Firebending, Kaho is probably the most talented student in the entire academy at the present moment. And when you mix that talent together with an ill temper, it’s a bad combination.”

“Has she challenged her yet?” Ty Lee said.

“Not yet,” Jia-Li said.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Ty Lee said, sighing. “Ugh. This is all so ridiculous! We should all just get along.”

“Let’s just avoid them all for as long as we can and hope everything has smoothed over by the time we go down to eat dinner,” you said. “Ty Lee, you can stay in our room, as long as Jia-Li is okay with it.”

“Of course,” Jia-Li said. “I wouldn’t send you into the dragon’s maw like that.”

“I can handle her if it comes down to it,” Ty Lee said. “And I really need to shower — bad run in with a dragon moose’s tongue, Jia-Li, it’s a bit of a long story. But thanks for offering!”

“What can she do against someone like Kaho?” Jia-Li asked you. You shrugged.

“I have no idea, but she is one of Princess Azula’s closest friends, so she must know a thing or two,” you said.

“That’s true,” Jia-Li said. “Let’s stop talking about Kaho and her idiocy now, though. There’s no point in letting her spoil our time together. Did you have fun at the zoo?”

“I did!” you said. “It was nice to see all the animals, and we got to feed some of them at the petting zoo, which was nice. They were all very friendly.”

Jia-Li smiled fondly. “That’s good. I used to love going to the zoo as a kid. My brother and I used to visit together — his favorite exhibit was the flying dolphin fish, but I always liked going to see the koala sheep.”

“Were you and your brother close?” you said, feeling a pang in your stomach. You had no idea if you had a brother or a sister or any siblings at all. What if you did? Would they be missing you right now, or would they have moved on from you already? Would they resemble you, or would you look completely different? Would they have cared for you in your youth, or would you have cared for them in theirs?

“We used to be,” Jia-Li said. “When we were very young, that is. He was my best friend.”

“What happened?” you said.

“We grew up,” she said, undoing the ribbon tying her hair back and beginning to comb through her long locks. “I came here, and he went to the school for boys. Then I suppose we just learnt to have different interests. He preferred hanging out with his other boy friends, and so I was left to find my own entertainment.”

“That’s sad,” you said. She set down the comb and retied her hair.

“It is,” she said. “What I wouldn’t give to go to the zoo with him again, or some other such activity. Actually, I just wish we were children again…but we are grown now, aren’t we? It’s fine. That’s how life is.”

“Is he much older than us?” you said.

“Only by a couple of years,” she said before brightening. “You should come meet him!”

“Uh,” you said. “Where would we do that, exactly? And why?”

“Our next break is soon. My family has a house on Ember Island; you can come stay with us! Unless you have other plans already or something, of course,” she said.

“I don’t have any plans,” you said. “I probably would’ve ended up going to the palace again, but visiting this Ember Island place sounds a little more appealing, in truth. As long as you and your family are alright with it.”

“My family won’t care,” Jia-Li said, waving you off dismissively. “My father will probably be delighted to have the girl sponsored by the royal family staying in his home, and my mother will just be happy that I’m bringing a friend home. As for my brother…nobody cares about his opinion, anyways! If he wants to complain, then he can just run along and stay at his best friend’s house. They’re going to be on Ember Island then, too.”

“Then I would really love to do that,” you said. “Thank you for inviting me, Jia-Li.”

“Sure, you’re a great roommate, so it’s not an issue,” she said. “I was a little sad about having to leave you during break, but now I’m just excited! You’ll love Ember Island, I promise. It’s so beautiful there.”

“I’m excited, too,” you said. “Actually, I was a little scared about the break — I wasn’t sure if I had a place in the palace or not, and either way, there’s something a little intimidating about staying there. It’ll be much more fun to be with you the whole time, in a place that I can feel somewhat wanted.”

“Of course!” Jia-Li said, growing starry-eyed. “And I can take you to the ocean for the first time! Do you know how to swim? Wait, you probably wouldn’t know if you do or don’t. Well, if you don’t, I’ll teach you, and if you do, we can swim together! You can borrow my things, I think we’re probably close in size.”

“Alright,” you said, overwhelmed by the many plans she was already coming with. “I’ll leave all of that to you. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“You can count on me,” Jia-Li said, giving you a thumbs up. “I promise it’ll be the best break ever!”

Since Ty Lee had apparently gone to her room after showering, you and Jia-Li decided to make your way to dinner together in the hopes that you’d find her in the dining hall. Both of you were hungry by that point, though, and you unanimously agreed to just eat, even if she wasn’t there.

“I’m surprised,” you said when you walked in and found no traces of Ty Lee anywhere. “She’s normally so timely when it comes to dinner.”

“Yeah, but remember how long it takes her to wash and dry her hair? She probably won’t be down for a while,” Jia-Li reminded you.

“Right, I forgot about that,” you said. Ty Lee took a lot of pride in her personal appearance — rightfully so, of course, given how lovely she was — so her pre and post-shower routines were quite extensive, to say nothing of the actual shower itself. And especially because she had gotten covered in dragon moose saliva at the zoo, Jia-Li was correct to assume that Ty Lee might not be out for quite some time.

“Uh-oh,” Jia-Li said as you two sat down with your dinners. She nodded at the end of the table, where a girl you vaguely remembered being in the year below you was smirking at Kaho, whose jaw muscles were twitching with every word the girl spoke.

“Someone should stop her,” you said, though you made no move to get up, wanting to stay far away from the disaster zone that was about to emerge. Jia-Li hummed in assent, but she obviously had the same idea, remaining firmly put beside you. “It’s like she has a death wish.”

“She’s just trying to prove her superiority,” Jia-Li said. “There’s a clear hierarchy in this school, and right now, Kaho is at the top. She doesn’t like when people come for her spot, but of course, everyone wants to be there, to be number one, so they’re always trying to best her. It’s why she doesn’t like you — you’re beating her in terms of academics, which she hates, because she’s supposed to be the best. At least with you, though, you’re not a bender, so she can console herself with the fact that you’ll never be able to compete with her in any way that matters on that front. This girl, though, is challenging everything that Kaho is. She wants to be the most respected girl in the academy, but to do that, she needs to prove that Kaho isn’t worthy of that place any longer.”

“Can she do it?” you said.

“No,” Jia-Li said bluntly. “Plenty of people have tried. None of them have succeeded, except for Princess Azula, and she’s a special case in that she already was afforded a different status than the rest of us because of her bloodline.”

“Then she’s a fool,” you said.

“There’s more fools in this world than not,” Jia-Li said.

The girl continued to tease Kaho, who was obviously doing her level best to ignore her, not even affording her the dignity of looking at her. One could argue that it was maturity, but you understood it for what it really was: a way to demean her opponent, to prove that the other’s existence was meaningless to her, that she was so insignificant it was as if she truly did not exist in Kaho’s eyes.

“Honestly,” the girl said, voice lilting impishly, “I feel for you, Kaho. I mean, you used to be the top student, and then a girl with amnesia took your spot! It must’ve been embarrassing, losing to someone who doesn’t even have any memories. And to make matters worse, the prince really does seem to favor that girl, and we all know what he thinks of you…”

“What is she talking about?” you whispered under your breath to Jia-Li. “Why is she bringing me into this? What does Prince Zuko have to do with anything?”

“You’d do well to shut up now,” Kaho said, though it was the wrong thing to do, for her reaction was proof that the girl had struck a nerve.

“It’s like I told you,” Jia-Li whispered back. “Kaho is used to being at the top. When we were younger, before everything with the, ah, banishment, she tried very desperately to befriend the royal family. She was never able to endear herself to Princess Azula, but her sights were always on the prince, anyways, so that mattered little to her. It was marriage she sought; the prospect of being Fire Lady was too appealing.”

“I’m assuming she was unsuccessful,” you said. Jia-Li nodded.

“Extremely. It wasn’t even her fault, really; Prince Zuko was always kind, but unattainable for all of us. He had no interest in dallying with girls that went to school with his sister, so Kaho was never able to gain his approval in the way she wanted. Perhaps it might’ve been different if he hadn’t been…you know. They might have grown closer as they grew older simply due to her sheer persistence, but we’ll never know,” she said.

“For being the supposed best of us, you’re not the best at a lot of things,” the girl said. “I mean, I bet you’re not even that good at Firebending!”

Kaho slammed her fist on the table, standing to face the girl and glaring at her.

“Is that the game you want to play?” she said. “Fine. I’ll go along with it. I challenge you to an Agni Kai!”

“I’m assuming that’s not a good outcome,” you said.

“Nope,” Jia-Li said grimly. “Let’s just say that things have gone from bad to worse. Come on.”

“We’re going to watch?” you said.

“It’s all but mandated. I don’t like it, either, but we kind of have to,” Jia-Li said. “Hopefully, it’s over soon. Sometimes, Kaho can be inventive.”

You and Jia-Li stood in the very back of the crowd, though your view was still perfectly unobstructed. You almost wished there was something blocking your vision, though, something in between you and what was surely going to turn out to be a grotesque sight, one way or another.

“Want some?” the girl in front of you said, turning around and proffering a bag of candy to you and Jia-Li.

“No, thank you,” you said, for you were already queasy and knew that sweets would only worsen the effect.

“I’m okay,” Jia-Li said.

“I’m betting on Kaho,” the girl said, grabbing a handful of candy and dropping it all in her mouth. “Wanna join the pool? One of my friends is running it.”

“Like a betting pool?” you said.

“Yup! It’s how I could afford to buy this candy — I won last time,” the girl explained.

“No way,” you said.

“We’re good,” Jia-Li said when the girl looked offended at your short response.

“I can’t believe they’re betting on something like this!” you said.

“It’s common, believe it or not,” Jia-Li said.

“I believe it, sadly, but I wish I didn’t,” you said. “It’s so heartless.”

“That’s just how things are here,” Jia-Li said. You pursed your lips as the fight between the girl and Kaho began, deciding to keep silent, because your words would be wasted when your argument was not even with Jia-Li in the first place.

Even though the girl was no slouch in terms of Firebending, the fight was over almost as soon as it started. Kaho’s power was too much for her opponent, and she seemed bored as she coated her palm in fire and slapped it against the girl’s bicep.

“I got the first burn,” she said, miming a yawn. “So I guess that means I win. Why are you crying like that? Honestly. Just shut up. Why’d you agree to fight me if you couldn’t accept defeat like an adult?”

The skin on the girl’s arm was red and angry, already beginning to blister, but you could tell even without an explanation from Jia-Li that Kaho had been merciful. She could’ve done worse, but she had chosen to let that girl off with a warning. A reminder to never be so daring again.

There was something odd about it all, though. Despite the fact that her opponent was standing across from her, you noticed that it was not the burnt, sobbing girl that Kaho was scowling at so darkly.

It was you.

Ursa,

I’m glad you were able to make it to the zoo. I know you mentioned wanting to go a while back, so it makes me happy to know that that desire of yours was fulfilled. I wish I could’ve been there. Did you get to feed the turtle ducks? I remember doing that when I went, though of course I only visited once, with my mother, and that was a long time ago, so maybe things have changed and they don’t let people do that anymore.

I wish you hadn’t had to see an Agni Kai. They are definitely a darker part of Fire Nation culture. But, then again, for a nation that values honor so greatly, they are just a natural consequence. I hope you haven’t been frightened too terribly. Mai says that Kaho isn’t always so generous with her opponents, so there’s something to be grateful for: at least it was only a small burn. You’re entirely right — it could’ve been worse.

You shouldn’t worry about taking up space at the palace. It would be my our pleasure to host you once again. But Ember Island is a nice place. You will have fun there, I’m sure. The ocean is very, very beautiful. It’s the bluest thing you’ll ever see, and it goes on for what seems to be forever. The Fire Nation is lucky in that our ocean is warm, and the tides are not so vicious — nothing like the poles, where it is so treacherous and cold.

It is nice to know that you are enjoying yourself so thoroughly. That is what I am really concerned with; it matters little to me if you ever become a proper Fire Nation lady or anything along those lines. I would even prefer it if you didn’t. It’s more important that you are happy.

Yours, Zuko

P.S. Perhaps I am not surprised, but I am still disappointed on your behalf.

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

175 notes · View notes