This fic is pure indulgence
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[Stories, he’s come to realize, were one of his favorite things in the world. He loves them. More than maps, more than science, more than – okay, not Suki, but it’s close.
He just. Loves. Stories.
Stories told around campfires in the middle of nowhere. Stories to scare, stories that made him laugh, even the ones that made him cry. He likes to think of them as a bridge. A way to remember the past, to keep it in memory, for it to speak to the world.
He’s heard stories told in a thousand ways a thousand times, not all of them good, but that’s what makes them special. No one told them the same way. A man in the South Pole could tell the same story as a woman in Caldera or a kid in Ba Sing Se, and yet somehow it would just be…different.
And now, staring him in the face, is another story. One he’s never thought of before.]
Zuko, it turns out, has tattoos. A lot of tattoos.
And each one, the Gaang learns, tells a story.
A canon divergence post the end of Fromage. To see someone you care about hurt brings forth a rush of realizations, both Hannibal and Will come to terms with their independent epiphanies. There's love, cognitive dissonance, and a lot of dogs.