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    Summary

    Still several paces away he drops into a full bow, formal in the way he'd been coached at the beginning of his role as Ambassador, but never had reason to use. Until now, that is. His forehead presses to the floor that is somehow miraculously cool despite the roaring flames not all that far away. And he does not rise from it immediately thereafter like he normally would with a cursory dip in more public settings. Instead he kneels there, forehead to the ground, and bites his tongue to prevent himself from speaking first. The silence stretches. His heart begins to race, an anxious knot growing in his stomach, as the Fire Lord's eyes presumably bore into his form and still says nothing.

    The Fire Lord's voice does not break the tension when he finally says, "Ambassador Sokka."
    ~
    Or

    Sokka thinks Zuko being Fire Lord is hot. He's like crazy into the "What-If's" it presents. They fuck about it. On the throne. Obviously.

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