Avatar: The Last Airbender; Firecest: "As Tricky Is"
Title: As Tricky Is
Author: Kitana
Warnings: PG-13; Firecest. Nothing Azula says or does is without reason; that much Zuko remembers.. For my kink bingo square, "emotional manipulation". ~1400 words.
Notes: Divergent after 'The Avatar State'. Basically something I think would happen if Zuko and Iroh hadn't figured out that Azula was planning to take them back to the Fire Nation to stand trial.
***
“Zuzu!” Azula coos, turning in the direction of her brother. “It’s so good to see you. I’m glad you’re coming back home!”
This is the first time Azula has come to Zuko directly since she picked him and Iroh up to return to the Fire Nation. Zuko looks at Azula, wary. It’s hard to believe that she really wants him home, but she did come get him and uncle. Maybe that counts for something. Still, Zuko’s first response is:
“I’ve asked you not to call me that.”
“Oh? I must have forgotten,” Azula says, cocking her head to the side. Her smile widens; Zuko’s frown deepens. “But never mind that. I have something to show you.”
Zuko shifts his gaze to Azula’s eyes then, searching them. Nothing Azula says or does is without reason; that much Zuko remembers. But Azula meets his eyes easily, giving him nothing to doubt. Has she really changed in some way?
Azula beckons and Zuko stands. It’s hard to believe.
He does want to believe.
Wordlessly, Azula leads Zuko through the corridors of her ship. The ship is big, much bigger than the one Zuko himself owned. The length of time it’s taking to reach Azula’s destination is making him impatient, though thankfully, it seems that his quarters are in the very back of the ship. Changed or no, there is only so much Azula Zuko can tolerate.
After turning another corner, Zuko stops in the middle of the empty corridor and says, “Where are you taking me?”
Azula doesn’t stop walking, but she does throw Zuko a glance over her shoulder. “Do you want to see or not?”
He opens his mouth to speak, but Azula is now several steps ahead of him. He’s here now anyway, he might as well continue.
Finally, Azula sops in front of a door. Her door. Zuko can tell by the insignia on the front that it’s been designated for her. Zuko stops short behind Azula and doesn’t take another step.
“It’s in your room, the thing you want to show me?”
“Of course,” Azula responds, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The hairs at the nape of Zuko’s neck prickle; he hasn’t seen the inside of Azula’s room since they were younger. He’d learned to stay out of her space, though she had no qualms with invading his.
“Can’t you bring it out here for me to see?” Zuko says. Despite himself, there is a note of pleading in his voice. It always comes out like that around Azula, even though he is the eldest. He hates it.
Azula rolls her eyes, an instant dismissal of the idea. “Sure, if I wanted everyone to see. But I don’t.”
Azula pushes her door open; it is faintly lit inside. Zuko takes a breath as she steps inside and then, though he’s not sure why, he follows. As he steps inside, Azula latches the door behind him. He turns to her then, suspicion plain on his face.
“You need to lock the door?”
This time Azula’s smile reaches her eyes, and it is mocking. “You’ve always been so gullible, Zuzu.”
Instantly, Zuko knows he’s been tricked. There is nothing for Azula to show him. He drops into his fighting stance, ready. He will not lose to her if this is what she wants. In the dim light, Azula laughs. It’s a high, ringing, genuine laugh.
“What is so funny?” Zuko grinds out, his hands clenching into fists in front of him.
“You can’t bend in here. All of my guards will know and come running. Do you really want to spend the rest of the trip home in shackles?”
Each of Azula’s sentences is punctuated with a step forward until her chest is pressed against Zuko’s fists. Startled by the softness, and the proximity, Zuko recoils.
“Then what do you want, Azula?” Zuko says. His hands are still clenched at his side. Azula only edges closer to him, dissipating any illusion of personal space. She stops when there are only inches left between them.
“What I want,” Azula says, staring up into Zuko’s eyes, which have narrowed in distrust, “Is to know what exile tastes like.”
Quickly, before Zuko can react to her words, Azula closes the tiny gap between them and presses her lips to Zuko’s. It is like what she imagines the conquering of Ba Sing Se should have been like - easy, with the way Zuko’s shocked gasp only lets her in deeper, closer. She drives her tongue against his, taking the feeling she wants from him. Zuko’s lips are surprisingly soft.
Too quickly for Azula’s tastes, Zuko regains his bearings and shoves her away. The force of it makes her bounce against her bed. Zuko is breathing heavily and a tell-tale flush has spread across his face, though his expression is twisted into disbelief and revulsion. Azula loves watching all of the faces she can make Zuko form.
“Well, what do you know?” Azula says, smudging her lipstick back into place with her finger. “Exile is pretty tasty.”
Zuko wipes the palm of his hand across his lips; it comes away smeared the same reddish-pink that Azula is wearing. “You’re crazy,” he says matter-of-factly. He goes over to the door, intending to unlock it, but Azula’s quicker - her hand reaches the lock before his can.
“One more time, Zuzu?” Azula says.
“Stop calling me that!” Zuko explodes. Then, calmer, he says, “Move, Azula.”
“And if I don’t?” Azula responds defiantly. She’s smiling again and, gods, Zuko is so sick of being underestimated by her.
Zuko squares his shoulders. “Then I will move you.”
That only delights Azula further. “Try it.”
Zuko grabs Azula by the wrists to swing her away from the door. Mid-motion, Azula clamps onto his forearms and uses his strength against him to crash into the only unadorned wall. They’re back to how they started and Azula steals another kiss. Azula puts the distance between them this time, back at the door, before Zuko can shove her again.
“What is wrong with you?!” Zuko bites out. “Stop this madness!”
The room is too tiny for any elaborate movement, but if anything, Zuko is persistent. He attempts to move Azula from the door again, only to have her sidestep him, wrap her fingers in his ponytail and pull, hard. She has him bending backwards, almost in two. He digs his fingers into her wrist, but doesn't move otherwise.
“I only want one little thing,” Azula murmurs, tugging just a little harder on Zuko’s pony.
“You already took it,” Zuko says, grunting in pain.
Azula shrugs one shoulder. “I can stand like this all day,” she says simply. Her grip on Zuko doesn’t ease a fraction.
As she watches, she can practically see each thought that Zuko entertains. He’s never been good at hiding himself from anyone, let alone her, and she sees his grudging resignation in the closing of his eyes before he opens his mouth to say it.
When Azula kisses Zuko this time, he is pliant, but his body trembles with shame and rage. Again, too easy for her to take from Zuko, but somehow it never really get boring. Zuko makes a choked noise when Azula scrapes her teeth over his bottom lip and he jerks even more when she moves to his exposed throat. She bites him there, leaving a print of her teeth in his flesh.
Satisfied, Azula release her hold on Zuko and he drops to the floor. He is almost lightning quick as he leaves her room. She doesn’t move to stop him this time, only calls out after him to say, “That’s a nice look on you, Zuzu!”
Zuko sneers, but as soon as he is in his room again, he gets a glimpse of what he looks like. His pony is loose and disheveled, his cheeks are burnt red, and his lips are stained with colour. But the worst part is the indentation of teeth near his Adam’s apple, ringed with lipstick too. It only intensifies the debauched feeling he has.
Zuko folds himself into a meditation position on his bed and begins his mantra, one he’d let slip his mind before.
Azula only lies.
Author: Kitana
Warnings: PG-13; Firecest. Nothing Azula says or does is without reason; that much Zuko remembers.. For my kink bingo square, "emotional manipulation". ~1400 words.
Notes: Divergent after 'The Avatar State'. Basically something I think would happen if Zuko and Iroh hadn't figured out that Azula was planning to take them back to the Fire Nation to stand trial.
***
“Zuzu!” Azula coos, turning in the direction of her brother. “It’s so good to see you. I’m glad you’re coming back home!”
This is the first time Azula has come to Zuko directly since she picked him and Iroh up to return to the Fire Nation. Zuko looks at Azula, wary. It’s hard to believe that she really wants him home, but she did come get him and uncle. Maybe that counts for something. Still, Zuko’s first response is:
“I’ve asked you not to call me that.”
“Oh? I must have forgotten,” Azula says, cocking her head to the side. Her smile widens; Zuko’s frown deepens. “But never mind that. I have something to show you.”
Zuko shifts his gaze to Azula’s eyes then, searching them. Nothing Azula says or does is without reason; that much Zuko remembers. But Azula meets his eyes easily, giving him nothing to doubt. Has she really changed in some way?
Azula beckons and Zuko stands. It’s hard to believe.
He does want to believe.
Wordlessly, Azula leads Zuko through the corridors of her ship. The ship is big, much bigger than the one Zuko himself owned. The length of time it’s taking to reach Azula’s destination is making him impatient, though thankfully, it seems that his quarters are in the very back of the ship. Changed or no, there is only so much Azula Zuko can tolerate.
After turning another corner, Zuko stops in the middle of the empty corridor and says, “Where are you taking me?”
Azula doesn’t stop walking, but she does throw Zuko a glance over her shoulder. “Do you want to see or not?”
He opens his mouth to speak, but Azula is now several steps ahead of him. He’s here now anyway, he might as well continue.
Finally, Azula sops in front of a door. Her door. Zuko can tell by the insignia on the front that it’s been designated for her. Zuko stops short behind Azula and doesn’t take another step.
“It’s in your room, the thing you want to show me?”
“Of course,” Azula responds, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The hairs at the nape of Zuko’s neck prickle; he hasn’t seen the inside of Azula’s room since they were younger. He’d learned to stay out of her space, though she had no qualms with invading his.
“Can’t you bring it out here for me to see?” Zuko says. Despite himself, there is a note of pleading in his voice. It always comes out like that around Azula, even though he is the eldest. He hates it.
Azula rolls her eyes, an instant dismissal of the idea. “Sure, if I wanted everyone to see. But I don’t.”
Azula pushes her door open; it is faintly lit inside. Zuko takes a breath as she steps inside and then, though he’s not sure why, he follows. As he steps inside, Azula latches the door behind him. He turns to her then, suspicion plain on his face.
“You need to lock the door?”
This time Azula’s smile reaches her eyes, and it is mocking. “You’ve always been so gullible, Zuzu.”
Instantly, Zuko knows he’s been tricked. There is nothing for Azula to show him. He drops into his fighting stance, ready. He will not lose to her if this is what she wants. In the dim light, Azula laughs. It’s a high, ringing, genuine laugh.
“What is so funny?” Zuko grinds out, his hands clenching into fists in front of him.
“You can’t bend in here. All of my guards will know and come running. Do you really want to spend the rest of the trip home in shackles?”
Each of Azula’s sentences is punctuated with a step forward until her chest is pressed against Zuko’s fists. Startled by the softness, and the proximity, Zuko recoils.
“Then what do you want, Azula?” Zuko says. His hands are still clenched at his side. Azula only edges closer to him, dissipating any illusion of personal space. She stops when there are only inches left between them.
“What I want,” Azula says, staring up into Zuko’s eyes, which have narrowed in distrust, “Is to know what exile tastes like.”
Quickly, before Zuko can react to her words, Azula closes the tiny gap between them and presses her lips to Zuko’s. It is like what she imagines the conquering of Ba Sing Se should have been like - easy, with the way Zuko’s shocked gasp only lets her in deeper, closer. She drives her tongue against his, taking the feeling she wants from him. Zuko’s lips are surprisingly soft.
Too quickly for Azula’s tastes, Zuko regains his bearings and shoves her away. The force of it makes her bounce against her bed. Zuko is breathing heavily and a tell-tale flush has spread across his face, though his expression is twisted into disbelief and revulsion. Azula loves watching all of the faces she can make Zuko form.
“Well, what do you know?” Azula says, smudging her lipstick back into place with her finger. “Exile is pretty tasty.”
Zuko wipes the palm of his hand across his lips; it comes away smeared the same reddish-pink that Azula is wearing. “You’re crazy,” he says matter-of-factly. He goes over to the door, intending to unlock it, but Azula’s quicker - her hand reaches the lock before his can.
“One more time, Zuzu?” Azula says.
“Stop calling me that!” Zuko explodes. Then, calmer, he says, “Move, Azula.”
“And if I don’t?” Azula responds defiantly. She’s smiling again and, gods, Zuko is so sick of being underestimated by her.
Zuko squares his shoulders. “Then I will move you.”
That only delights Azula further. “Try it.”
Zuko grabs Azula by the wrists to swing her away from the door. Mid-motion, Azula clamps onto his forearms and uses his strength against him to crash into the only unadorned wall. They’re back to how they started and Azula steals another kiss. Azula puts the distance between them this time, back at the door, before Zuko can shove her again.
“What is wrong with you?!” Zuko bites out. “Stop this madness!”
The room is too tiny for any elaborate movement, but if anything, Zuko is persistent. He attempts to move Azula from the door again, only to have her sidestep him, wrap her fingers in his ponytail and pull, hard. She has him bending backwards, almost in two. He digs his fingers into her wrist, but doesn't move otherwise.
“I only want one little thing,” Azula murmurs, tugging just a little harder on Zuko’s pony.
“You already took it,” Zuko says, grunting in pain.
Azula shrugs one shoulder. “I can stand like this all day,” she says simply. Her grip on Zuko doesn’t ease a fraction.
As she watches, she can practically see each thought that Zuko entertains. He’s never been good at hiding himself from anyone, let alone her, and she sees his grudging resignation in the closing of his eyes before he opens his mouth to say it.
When Azula kisses Zuko this time, he is pliant, but his body trembles with shame and rage. Again, too easy for her to take from Zuko, but somehow it never really get boring. Zuko makes a choked noise when Azula scrapes her teeth over his bottom lip and he jerks even more when she moves to his exposed throat. She bites him there, leaving a print of her teeth in his flesh.
Satisfied, Azula release her hold on Zuko and he drops to the floor. He is almost lightning quick as he leaves her room. She doesn’t move to stop him this time, only calls out after him to say, “That’s a nice look on you, Zuzu!”
Zuko sneers, but as soon as he is in his room again, he gets a glimpse of what he looks like. His pony is loose and disheveled, his cheeks are burnt red, and his lips are stained with colour. But the worst part is the indentation of teeth near his Adam’s apple, ringed with lipstick too. It only intensifies the debauched feeling he has.
Zuko folds himself into a meditation position on his bed and begins his mantra, one he’d let slip his mind before.
Azula only lies.