#also the height difference isn’t as big as it appears it’s just the way zuko is holding sokka

[indecisiveartform]

@zukkaweek day 3-the blue spirit…late

The blue spirit is ba sing sei’s local hero/vigilante depending on who you ask, and Sokka is an investigative reporter hellbent on finding out the truth on the mysterious hero. After being ditched during a stakeout by his nerdy partner Zuko, Sokka gets caught in some trouble and ends up being saved by the hero he’s been desperately trying to expose. Maybe the Blue Spirit isn’t so bad after all.

I’m back, somewhat, idk, I haven’t posted in so long but I had to post something for zukka week, I hope you enjoy, if it wasn’t obvious this is inspired by superman. I might make more of this au but idk.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Skin & Scale (Part 3)

Azula stretches her arms and yawns.

She lowers her arms, grits her teeth, and yanks her sleeves up. The skin beneath is red and dry from a night of rubbing and scratching and still her arms itch terribly. She rubs her hands over her face, lightly slapping her cheeks in an attempt to better wake herself up. She has far too much to do today to be so sleepy. But to go with an aggravating amount of itching, she is still decently sore, it is becoming quite a nuisance really. The royal physicians are no help at all, they tell her that this is normal, that she is growing so of course her bones will ache and her body will feel stretched and tight. But she doesn’t recall hearing Zuzu complain about such things when he was twelve. She doesn’t recall Mai mentioning anything and she had shot up faster than anyone else Azula knows. 

“Everyone is different.” They assure her, but it isn’t even slightly reassuring. 

Perhaps it is another awful consequence of her embarrassingly late blooming. Seventeen and she is only just now joining everyone else? Seventeen and she still can’t brag about her figure like TyLee can. Seventeen and she still can’t reach the topmost shelves–the second highest shelf if the build is particularly high. Seventeen and she still has some babyfat on her cheeks, perhaps not as much as she had when she was fourteen, but she had expectations. Expectations that are far from being met. 

These days she finds herself scrutinizing her reflection with more intensity than ever, inspecting her face for even the tiniest of changes. She thinks that maybe her chin is sharper? Or her eyes? There is something different about her eyes. Or maybe she is just noticing details that had always been there but she hadn’t paid any mind to. It could also be that she is forcing herself to notice things that aren’t there, only seeing them because she wants to. 

She has nothing concrete; the doctors chart her height and track her weight, both are consistent. Now and then they check her foot size so that they can make her new shoes. Now and then they measure the length of her hands should she need gloves. Small feet, dainty hands are the comments; they don’t know why they keep measuring when there are never any differences to note. No one has commented on any differences in her appearance at all.

Maybe this whole puberty thing is all just one big joke, something giggling servants and former classmates exaggerate and dramatize. 

Maybe she is just an unchanging oddity. 

Maybe she will just be this way forever. 

There is a comfort in believing that she might just stay the same forever. At least she will always be familiar with her body. At least she will know every inch of it, memorize every patch of skin. 

It is every bit as unsettling; it comes with a dread that she will one day get sick of her body, that she will find some unchanging aspect of it that she doesn’t like to fixate upon until she is old enough for wrinkles and gray hair and frail bones. 

She trails her pointer down her cheek, one long, pointed nail tracing down to her chin. She spritzes herself with perfume and goes to join Zuko, the Avatar, and friends for a discussion about dragons.

.oOo.

She hadn’t been the one to call the meeting but, naturally, Azula is the first to arrive. She takes that brief window of time to give her arms and legs another stretch and try to get comfortable in her chair. 

“Hello, Azula!” Aang greets. He is every bit as enthusiastic–almost annoyingly so–as he ever was. It has been a rather noteworthy span of time since she had last seen him; he is a touch taller now and eve he has has started to lose some of that babyfat on his face. He is what? Fifteen now? Something like that, truthfully she had never bothered learning their ages. But he is younger than she. Younger and taller. 

Younger than her and yet he looks older.

Linked to him, by her arm, Katara also looks significantly more mature. 

Sokka has the beginnings of a bead and a bulkier build. Behind him, Toph has also had a growth spurt among other things…

Really, it is humiliating to have been left behind like this. Neglected and forgotten by nature itself. Spited might be a better word for it, she doesn’t believe that nature would forget anything. Doesn’t believe that it could forget anything.

Maybe it hates her because she is deviant from it.

She inhales and exhales, she doesn’t have time for this. They aren’t assembled to assess her personal predicaments. They are here to discuss dragons and what will surely turn into a quest of some sort. 

“I’ve got a list of all of the places I think that father might have hidden the dragon egg!” Zuko declares as he, late to his own meeting. She marks another tally on her, Zuzu is late to his own gatherings sheet. This is tally twelve. 

“Embarrassing.” She mutters.

“What is?” He frowns. 

She supposes that now is as good a time as any to reveal the tallies. She holds up the sheet. “This is the twelfth time that you have showed up at least five minutes late to a meeting you called. If we were counting instances of being one to four minutes late, I would have half this sheet filled already.”

He does not find her note taking to be as entertaining as she does. He fixes her with that same look he gives to lemons right before actually having a taste. “Whatever.” He grumbles. 

Time and place, she supposes. They can discuss tardiness and Fire Lordliness after speaking about dragons. But she does have to leave him with at least one more remark. “You know, Zuzu, doesn’t offer any credibility to declare a meeting urgent and then show up late.” 

Sokka stifles a laugh. 

As if he isn’t the second biggest offender of this. 

He gives a long exhale. “Well good thing that this is a family and friends only meeting.” 

“Well let’s get to it then, I have this massage that I’ve been looking forward to…” Agni, it will feel divine to have that tightness worked out of her muscles. 

“Right.” Zuko clears his throat. “So, with Azula’s help, I’ve come up with a few possible places that father might have hidden the dragon egg. Our objective is to get it safely…”

“Have you clarified that there might not be an egg to safely transport?” Azula cuts in and proceeds to inform the rest of the group of just what she had told Zuko about the dragon having hatched already. “That list is useless. Zuko forgot that we are looking for a dragon not a dragon egg.”

Zuko’s face flushes. “Would it kill you to not upstage me at my own meeting?”

“Would it kill you to be on time for your own meeting?” She shrugs. He has to admit that he had walked right into that one, and who could blame her for taking the opportunity. “How’s this, Zuzu, you show up on time to your meeting and I’ll suffer in silence as you blunder your way through said meeting.”

His face is entirely red now. “Okay! I think that you’re getting a little too comfortable…”

“Zuko.” Katara hushes him. “We don’t have time for another sibling rivalry right now.”

Sokka laughs, “You really just need to learn to brush things off. Especially with her.” He jabs his thumb in Azula’s direction.

At least someone is the brainpower to acknowledge and accept that she is simply a highly opinionated, blunt person and that they are going to have to deal with or ignore it depending on the context. Preferably they will elect to deal with her remarks rather than ignore them; she likes to think that her words have value. 

Zuko folds his arms across his chest. “Fine. You want to run the meeting, run it.” 

Azula’s face lights up, “well why didn’t you ask sooner!?”

He groans, grumbling something or another about forgetting that she’s one of the weirdos who likes these kinds of challenges. 

“As you all–well most of you, anyhow–know, we are not looking for a dragon egg, but a dragon. We, of course, should be vigilant for pieces of a dragon egg, scale molts, broken claws, and the like. But I imagine that it would be much easier to spot a dragon itself.” She pauses and draws a few books and scrolls from her pack. “I’ve gathered a collection of writings detailing the habits and common habitats of dragons. A lot of it is text from the ancient Sun Warriors. I suggest that everyone gives these a brief look over. But to summarize–dragons tend to pick one place, stick with it, and defend it to their dying breath.”

And that is precisely why she is concerned. The dragon would have sooner died than given up its home. 

Sokka raises his hand.

“They know what belongs to them and they cling viciously and rightfully to those possessions be they physical treasures or titles and statuses.”

Sokka waves his hand about.

“In this case, the dragon would be very protective of its secrets…its hiding spot.” She glances from person to person. “Dragons are habitual creatures. Contrary to popular belief, they enjoy order over chaos and create chaos when their order is disturbed. So if we do find this dragon, we can expect that it won’t be pleased to have its routine tampered with.” 

Sokka gives his raised hand a very attention grabbing shake.

“What, Sokka?”

“So, basically what you’re saying is that we’re risking being charred just for showing up and trying to bring this dragon home?”

Azula pinches the bridge of her nose. He had interrupted her for that? “Oh it has reason to burn us all alive on sight for more reasons than just that. There was a time when the whole world belonged to dragons…” She supposes that she can’t blame them for wanting to ravage it. If they couldn’t have it—couldn’t have what was theirs–then no one can. 

“Of course, that is if the dragon is still alive. We might be facing the last few months of our lives.”

Katara furrows her brows.

“It has been over ten years since that egg was stolen. I’ve told Zuzu, already that it is far-fetched that we haven’t seen a single sighting of a dragon in that time. Likely it has been hunted down. Dragons are quite easy to track. The prospect of it having hid itself so well for so long…it’s far fetched.” She pauses, clasping her hands atop the table. “Realistically, we will be bringing dragon bones to Ren and Shaw and we will face the same outcome as having not looked at all.” 

Each of them wears a priceless expression. Each conveys some level of horror. 

“Well, Appa is huge and he and I stayed hidden.”

“Beneath an ocean, in an iceberg, due to your Avatar abilities.” She replies. “There has to be a touch more than luck at hand for that dragon to have survived.” She wishes that she could say that stranger things have happened, but things are terribly mundane. 

“So I suggest that we turn our attention away from finding dead dragons and start making plans for how to fend off living ones.”

[rayshippouuchiha]

Prompt of sorts i guess?

Read the story ‘the family you choose by TunaFishChris’ good story set in ATLA but when I finished reading it my brain threw more plot bunnies at me. Help.

Same soulmates verse but its ozai not azulon who burns zukos off, azulon does have one but its on his head covered by hair n it was for his wife so when she dies azulon goes a little mad n as this was during ozais formulation years n while iroh is away its no surprise that ozai ends up like he does. Half natural inclination n half nurture or lack there of. Sozin was soulmates with roku, loosing him n being partly responsible got rid of any sanity he still had thus war n genocide with gusto. Ozai is the only born royal with no marks n sees it as a strength, zuko gets his down his spine for his soul family always having his back n such. Ozai nearly cripples zuko getting rid of them. Lala (is easier n faster to write) gets her marks when she is with zuko, zuko is always with her, mum told him that he was a big brother n that big brothers looked after their little siblings, zuko loves his little sister, he takes her everywhere. So when her mark appear he very quickly covers them, takes them to a discreet doc in town to get cover cream for her n starts teaching her to NEVER talk about them to anyone but him, not mother not father, no one. It works the cream n the where they appear on the body mean she is not found out by ozai. This changes alot. Once azulon gets his mind back after his wifes death he is tired of war but realises that no one will believe him wanting to end the war, he looks at his sons, iroh has too much blood on his hands n likes fighting too much to be the one to take over from him. Ozai is too cruel, twisted n power hungry for it to be him. Lu ten is promising but after talking with him (under the pretences of teaching him royal politics, laws n other things that the presumed heir would need to know) azulon discovers that lu ten does not want to rule and to force him to do so would only make him resent the throne. Lu ten suggests zuko instead, zuko loves the nation n the ppl, zuko is a naturally caring n protective person, zuko already sneaks out n mingles with citizens who can’t seem to help loving him, he just draws everyone in. Lu ten suggests having zuko (and lala if zuzu is there so is she) attend these lessons with azulon n Lu ten the excuse given to allow it is that zuko is to be trained to be Lu tens advisor when he is firelord. Its the other way round really but no one else needs to know that yet, zuko can be the lord, Lu ten n lala the advisors. Lu ten is the one keeps the farce going n keeps the target for assassination on his back rather than his little cousins. Lu ten is reported dead at ba sing se but is alive just so injured n with amnesia, possibly also damage to his chi so he can’t bend. Is picked up by the boulder who was an army soldier but leaves after that battle as he can’t stand to see that much blood anymore. Lu ten has soul marks but they hang on his skin like a very log hanging belt no one is going to notice them unless he gets naked. Growing up zuko n lala discover they r soul mates, lala is far more stable as she knows her brother will always love her no matter what she does n without conditions like father. She still is terrifying but she is loyal to zuko n only plays at being loyal to ozai. When Lu ten is reported dead n ozai makes a play for the throne azulon sees his chance n when says ozai must lose a son, he doesn’t want zuko dead, he plans to remove zuko from ozai family line register n either take him in as his own son or to have iroh take zuko in. Either way zuko was never going to die. Lala not knowing this is scared her only person will be taken from her goes to mother as even though mother doesn’t love her she loves zuko n will be willing to protect him, that done she goes n spends the night with zuko in case father sends assassins. Ursa makes the poison n gives it to ozai n then runs, it isn’t fatal poison she is hoping that ozai will mess up, azulon to survive but proof that ozai tried to kill him will see ozai either in prison till he dies or being executed for treason. Either way zuko is safe from his father n azulon can’t kill zuko as he will be the only remaining male heir, ozai dead, iroh too old to have more children n azula being too young n too female for most of the war counsellors to take seriously. Ozai adds something of his own to the poison, not completely trusting ursa (I wonder y) the poison ends up stimulating death long enough for azulon to be declared dead, ozai crowned n shit started. Azulons body is secreted away by a small group of loyal followers n his health slowly, very slowly returns, he is an OLD man even if the poison doesn’t kill him it does still kick his ass a bit. Ozai ups his campaign to get rid of zuko, lala quickly becomes VERY good at acting, manipulation n fighting to counter this n keep her dum dum alive, zuko becomes paranoid as hell but reaches new heights in stealth, weaponry n first aid. Lala is counting down the days till she has a valid excuse to kill ozai. Azulon is pissed as hell that he can’t do anything from where he is apart from try to help zuko as much as he can by sending ppl he trusts to teach him n look after him. Iroh comes back n really throws a spanner in the works, dismissing his fathers ppl from around zuko, in the (how many??) months that he is back before zuko is shipped out has the highest number of nearly successful assassination attempts on zuko since ursa left. Ozai is not impressed (that they failed), lala is adding uncles name to her shit list, azulon is just mystified as to how his son who is a supposedly great tactician can be so damn stupid.

Then the agni kai happens n azulon is too pissed off at ozai to care about iroh anymore. Azula is leaving with zuko “as otherwise his only example of fire bending will be uncle father n really even dum dum is better than that, besides then if zuko dishonours the family I can kill him straight away.” She has spent too long keeping him alive now for him to ruin all her efforts now. Zuko still has the same soul mates but also has the marks for Lu ten, azula n yue. Azula has zuko, toph n yue. Lu ten has zuko, azula n boulder at the least. Toph has azula added to her group. 6 months after zuko is banished azulon manages to find their location n reach them before they leave, takes over teaching them again n rips iroh several new ones while the crew watches in awe n horror. Azulon finds out about zukos marks n what ozai did n nearly sinks the ship in his rage, lala is glad to find someone else to help her keep zuko alive even if she doesn’t fully trust him, the only one who gets that treasure is zuko. With azulon backing his thoughts about stopping the war n to start helping the ppl of his nation zuko is different by the time aang gets freed, he n lala (im still coming with u dum dum) start working with the gaang earlier n things go smoother? The fire royals end up going to the northern city with them where they meet yue, she n azula bond, azula teaches her to be terrifying, azulon just watches n makes cutting remarks on how stupid the norths misogyny is n just how under prepared they r for anything really, the small fleet of their southern sisters tribe could lay seige, win n not loose more than maybe 5 ppl n they r all non benders. Water ppl being pissed that they can’t kill azulon due to him not being fire lord anymore n is just a doting grandfather really look at how harmless n unarmed I am, they have no claimable vendetta to excuse their killing him as lawful by tribe standards, as the tribe isolated itself n has had no real damage from azulon, also he has already been declared dead which is throwing them a little. Hahn being stupid enough to try n take azulon on, azulons bitch face is epic n lala vows to replicate it one day. Political marriage betrothal between yue n zuko? This azulon is a mix of grumpy old man, sarcastic little shit n im-too-fabulous-for-this attitude. When they find toph is also when they find boulder n Lu ten, zuko n azula bond with him n that breaks the amnesia n katara might be able to help heal his chi?

[god-of-dust]

since i already posted Rising Sun, i thought that it would be interesting to show part of my writing process for it. this is part of the first, unedited draft that i wrote without any finesse and then rewrote completely. notice the “send help” bit XD

He waits until Aang's finished with his mantras before speaking. “Can I have your opinion on something?”

“I'm listening,” Aang says, voice deep and resonant.

“The anniversary of the genocide will be in a few months,” he begins, unsure on how to approach the subject.

Slowly, Aang exhales, rolls his shoulders and neck and opens his eyes to look at Zuko. “Yes.”

“I'd like to make it an official day of remembrance.” He passes a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts.

“That's... incredibly thoughtful, Zuko. Thank you.”

Zuko scratches at a bit of sealing wax that's stuck to his desk. “The power I have means nothing if I don't use it to right the wrongs that my family has done. To be honest, there's a lot that needs to be mended, especially when it comes to your people, and even for this anniversary I have no idea what to do. What's the appropriate way to do this?”

“In truth, I have no idea either.” Aang briefly clutches his beads. “Now that the war is over, I have more space to think about what happened and how I want to honor my people so that their teachings aren't forgotten, but it's—well, a lot.”

“I was thinking about theatre—a play that tells the real story, what truly happened that day, instead of that bullshit militaristic propaganda we've been fed during the war.” Zuko offers cautiously.

“That could work. Can I think about it some more?”

“Of course you can. But, um, on the topic of propaganda... there's also something else I've been meaning to ask you.”

“There's always something else,” Aang says, and even though his tone is neutral Zuko still flinches. There's unconcealed tiredness in those words, one that Zuko is well-acquainted with; long nights spent wondering if the demands of his title will pile up and pile up until they swallow him whole, followed by long days where he brushes away the bruises under his eyes and puts on his best diplomatic face to attend to those very same demands.

“I'm working with my advisors to completely rewrite the school curriculum. They've been a great help, but for all their genuine interest they've been indoctrinated about Air Nomads as much as anyone else in this nation. I want kids to be taught about your culture, and for that I need you.” Before Aang can reply, Zuko speaks again. “I know that I'm asking too much. I know that this would be yet another responsibility you got saddled with... but you're also the best person possible for this.”

Aang's smile is a wry, bitter thing that makes Zuko's chest ache like a hollowed out tree. “Not the best. The only one.”

“You're not the only one. I could recruit some of the Air Acolytes if you think it's a good idea.”

“No, that wouldn't be enough,” Aang says, shaking his head minutely. “They're passionate scholars, and their presence soothes the part of me that was afraid that any hope for community had been lost. Still... they can never get it completely. There are things that can't be taught, only lived.”

There's nothing that Zuko can reply to that. No words will ever be enough to restore what has been destroyed and taken away from Aang; as much as that wound appears to be scarred and healed, Zuko can see that there's a well of grief that Aang doesn't let anyone get close to.

Some gaps can never be closed, but others can.

He rises from his desk and crosses the distance between them, kneeling before Aang. They're at the same height now, and Zuko gently presses his forehead against Aang's; after a small moment of hesitation, he places a hand against Aang's cheek. This tentative touch is all he has to offer.

“I wish I didn't have to ask this of you,” Zuko murmurs, eyes closing in surrender, thumb stroking soft skin.

They breathe together like this, slipping into a state of shared equilibrium. It doesn't erase the pain, but it makes it bearable. A thing that they both can carry together.

“I'm the last airbender. I won't disrespect my people by running away. Besides, I'm the Avatar, and my voice carries authority that I'm meant to use exactly for reasons such as these.”

Zuko sighs. Outside of the window, where the sky is beginning to darken, a handful of stars begin to emerge from its expanse. “I want more than anything to see you at peace, and yet I find myself burdening you with heavy choices, over and over.”

“Your choices aren't easy either, Zuko.”

“No, they aren't. But then, I'm honor-bound to rule this nation to the best of my abilities, regardless of my wishful thinking about how easier it should be.”

Aang squeezes one of his shoulders, reassuring him with a simple touch.

I know how it feels. You're not alone.

And Aang does understand, better than anyone else. The feeling of suffocation that comes with the high stakes involved in any misstep, the anxiety that has taken permanent residence under Zuko's ribs ever since his coronation. He never speaks about it, not out loud, and he's glad that he doesn't need to.

Aang puts a hand on the back of Zuko's neck, lightly kneading the lingering tension away.

Why is it that Aang makes it easy to accept a touch so loving and tender? He'd struggled to accept his uncle's hugs and comforting pats, feeling unworthy of his freely given affection.

Aang doesn't owe him anything. And yet here Zuko is, unmoving, his own palm still cupping Aang's tranquil face, fingers tracing absent patterns on it. Thoughts slip away, awash by the simplicity of this moment.

"Be here, Zuko. There's a lot we must do, a lot that's been appointed onto us, but now we have this."

"Thank you," Zuko whispers, and he means it.

The pressure of Aang's hand on Zuko grounds him. They breath as one, and for a moment they are one, a single essence.

“The first time I entered the Avatar state I experienced visions of the world that can't be expressed with words,” Aang says. “I saw the oneness of all things. I saw impermanence, the mutable nature of everything. Going back to being myself, with a body, after that... It took a bit of adjusting. Okay, a lot of adjusting.”

“How did you do it?” How can a person contain all that? is what Zuko wishes to ask, though he doesn't quite dare.

“I don't know. It's an apparent contradiction that I have yet to come to terms with. I have a duty as Avatar Aang that I'm meant to uphold, while having witnessed that, ultimately, I have no separate identity at all.” An exhale, long and deep. “Sometimes it feels meaningless. Why bother, why struggle, when we are all one and the same? But it's what we're here to do, what I am here to do.”

“You're the most selfless person I know.” It tumbles out of Zuko's mouth, unfiltered. Aang is... all that.

At Aang's age, Zuko had only cared about firebending forms and maybe his crush on Mai. He'd still hoped for his father's approval. Then there's Aang, a hero, a survivor, who's seen more than any person would be able to bear; the most profound loss, the glory of victory, and the ultimate detachment from it all.

It's impossible that this larger-than-life being can be so unassuming. That he has love for Zuko, so much that his scarred heart can drown in it.

Never has he felt so cherished, with no strings attached, no familial bonds, no hidden treachery glistening behind constructed gestures.

His chest isn't hollow anymore. It feels full, the fuller it's been in a long time, overflowing him. The naked affection he holds for Aang is humbling, devastating.

Aang has the supreme quality of making Zuko feel like he belongs. They belong together, as strange and different as they might be, as conflicted Zuko might feel about it. It doesn't matter.

When Aang talks about oneness, this is what Zuko can compare it to. Their mingled breaths, Aang's hand on his skin. That time at the Sun Warriors temple, along with now. They have everything. They are everything, and when they're together, Zuko can believe that they can achieve anything, overcome any struggle.

There's no obstacle big enough to stop their combined strength.

Is this what unconditional love is? The complete, utter perfection Zuko feels?

Nothing can mar this. Not when Aang is with him.

“I want to be there for you. I want to do everything in my power to provide reparation, to acknowledge the harm that's been done to your people, to offer my effort to make it right again... but I don't know how. I need you, Aang.” He stares into his eyes, gold meeting gray. “I need you to teach me. To tell me if I'm doing it wrong.”

“Okay,” Aang says, simply. “I'll be your advisor in this.”

“I'm so sorry that I'm asking this of you. I'm sorry that this is yet another burden piled up on top of your other responsibilities.”

Aang sighs. It's not a sad sigh, nor a frustrated sigh. Just... a deep exhale. “Someone has to do it. Might as well be me.”

“I wish you didn't have to.”

“Wishing is pointless. We might as well act on what we have.”

Zuko shakes his head. “I still can't accept the things that I suffered through. I haven't forgiven my family for what they've done. My father is rotting in prison, and he deserves it. For what he's done to me, to you, to this nation. The fact that you can be so calm about it... how? How can you be so calm?”

“Forgiving is not forgetting. What has been done has been done, and it's still impressed in my memory and will always be. But punishment serves no one.”

“So he should just... not pay for what he's done? Where's the justice in that?”

“Justice is meaningless. Justice is the illusion of balance, based on false ideas of truth.”

“Aang I don't fucking get it. He's a genocidal maniac. Send help.”

“The pain he's caused can't be mended through punishment. It cannot be solved in any way. We can only acknowledge that pain and make sure that it doesn't happen again. And... I'm glad that you're thinking about this. It warms my heart that you feel this way.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jason Voorhees x Freddy’sDaughter!Reader || Oneshot

Title: They Cuddles; Him, Her, and her Bottle of Hypnocil. 

Notes:

‘-There was something in her, something that was… pure horror. Everything you were supposed to watch out for. Heights, fire, shards of glass, snakes. Everything that his mom tried so hard to keep him safe from.’ - John Ajvide Lindqvist.

Inspired by the above quote.

Quick Background of Reader: You’re Maggies younger (Only a little) half-sister. (You were conceived and born shortly after he killed Loretta and your mother didn’t want you so you were pawned off to him so you were living with him until he was burnt by the Springwood Parents, whereas Maggie was of course taken away) (Pretend it was years between the time he was caught and the time he was killed)

Tried to write in Jasons POV, not sure how good it is, hah. 

I miiiiiiight have some ideas for future parts of this, this was adorable and sweet.

Plot: 

Just, Jason falling in so love with the enemies daughter who is so like her father - she’s loud, she’s hurt, she makes s t u p i d jokes and then laughs way too hard at them, she’s dangerous, - but who is gentle with him and kind. (She’s basically the type of girl Pam wouldn’t approve of at first but is so honest and kind that Pam cant help but begrudgingly like her eventually XD )

Warnings: Age gap? I mean it’s not a main plot point so you could ignore it but Jason and Freddy are similar in age so you’re young enough to be Jason’s kid too- but you’re in your 30’s-40’s so its okie. Fatherly trauma (Is that the right phrase?? Hah. You know what I mean) / Nightmare on elm Street survivor trauma also. Panic attack I think? Ends in fluff ^^ 

~~~

When you stayed a night in your van at that old, abandoned camp, you certainly didn’t expect to meet Jason. I mean, you weren’t surprised by his… abnormalities -referring to the fact that he’s dead. Not his deformities, - as much as you were how cute and sweet he was. And how well you two got on, after he tried to kill you.

And you don’t blame him for that! You trespassed; you get it. If you had known he was there and he had taken ownership of the area, then you would have asked before parking there.

When Jason had found a girl hidden away, sleeping in the back of a yellow van, he certainly didn’t expect that she would soon become so important to him. She was just another trespasser acting like a hoodlum -living! In! A! Van?! – in his general vicinity and of course, he didn’t like that.

Boring chase story short; He pushed your van over and there was a chase through the forest (You’ve never run that fast in your life, jesus christ. You can still feel the wind burn on your cheeks, that one rock under your bare feet that cut you and the energy rushing through your body pushing you forward anyway) and you leapt into the lake- waiting until he came in after you. And then when he did, you just screamed random nonsense, splashing around spastically at him until you hit a nerve that sobered him (Something about his mother). This is a technique you developed after you were given up to various foster homes after your father was burnt to death (And then also when he found you again) when stinky foster parents, foster siblings, bullies at school rando’s off the street wanted to put their hands on you, and that you mastered since. It works, evidently, with asexual zombie monsters too.

After that, you went back to your van and rap up your foot, thinking that at least the lake water cleaned up the cut on your foot, and then grumpily set up your bed on your window now since the van (Poor, dear Mandy) is now on its side thanks to the local undead jerk!

You hadn’t slept a wink the rest of that night, not because of the hulking mass of rotten flesh and a hockey mask that you knew was lurking somewhere close by, watching you, but because you weren’t about to waste an extra Hypnocil pill in one night. You just laid there, pillows propping you up and being bored. Staring at the ceiling, smearing various ugly pastel shades onto a page in your sketchbook, listening to the woods and imagining getting rawed by Danny Zuko were highlights. Then, when daylight finally broke out, you were finally, unhappily wondering how you were going to get Mandy back on her wheels, zipping up your jacket and looking at your beautiful pale-yellow Volkswagen.

You thinking what pain this would be to correct… and then having turned on your heel and went on a trek to the closest town to get some kind of breakfast. Procrastinating the inevitable.

When you had returned, a bag of groceries in your arms -drink propped on top of everything else so you could sip through the straw as you walked,- , your van was back on her wheels.

You don’t know what it was about you that made him do that, that made him stop and not kill you, and its likely you’ll never find out since he doesn’t talk, after that you had gone directly to find the - cute, now, -behemoth you knew fixed it for you, to make and give him fairy bread to say thank you and sorry for what happened last night- and honestly you’ve been friendly ever since. More then friendly, after a while, but never less then.

___TIME SKIP: Current time now. Months and months after you met___

~ POV Change~

Oh my god.

The second I see that the familiar bottle, the one from Typo with the Coca Cola logo on it that reminds me absolutely zero percent of my father that I keep Hypnocil pills in is not where I left it, a deep sense of dread and anxiety fills me up to the brim- only proceeding to grow outwards to the air around me as I search in an increasingly more panicked fashion for the thing. Where is it!? Where is it, where is it, where is it. “Where, where, where, where, where, where- “

I fling a pillow out the back of the van and am just bundling up the blankets, not caring what else goes with it to push out as well so I can find that fucking bottle when I notice Jason standing there at the back doors watching me, head tilted. I immediately stop what I’m doing, heart stopping for a second. “Lost something.” Is all I can squeak out.

He leans forward and I watch as I bends down so his head and upper body are in here with me and looks around, then up at me again as if to ask what I’m looking for so he can help me. “I-Its, um… “ My voice trembles. I need to find that bottle- the fact that Jason is being so sweet and offering to help me look just makes me feel even less together. I could cry. “A r-red bottle with umm, curly writing on it?” He probably doesn’t remember what coke is, much less the logo…

He nods, and starts looking around, eyes focused and slow as the graze along everything in the van so studiously that I stay extra still instead of helping- so he doesn’t miss anything with that super-vision he’s acting like he must have. The vans a mess and I’m just kneeling in the corner, against the driver’s seat with the blankets all bundles up in my lap, worrying my bottom lip and waiting for this man to save me. Please, jesus- help me. Save me.

A moment later and I’m about to slowly move from my place and Jason suddenly moves. His heavy arm shoots forward and pulls the bottle, a tubular shock of red, out of a nook between my portable DVD player/screen and some books and I was showing him earlier, offering it to me.

Dropping the blankets and sitting on them instead, feeling the softness on my bare legs and taking the bottle from him before hugging it to my chest and covering my face with my hands, silently.

Oh my god.

~POV Change~

Y/N curls up on herself, hiding her face and the bottle between her legs and her tummy and doesn’t make much noise except a quick, quiet whimper. She’s acting different, in a bad way. Why isn’t she talking to him, Jason wonders? Why isn’t she being loud? Is she okay?

Looking around the van, because he has to go in there and see if she’s okay- get her out of that body-cocoon, Jason crawls into the vehicle that he’s never dared to touch since the first night they met, and it breathes under his weight a little bit. He sits down next to her, crossing his legs and watching her for a while. What… to do… now… hmm…

Finally, he decides putting his hand on her shoulder might work to get her attention at least, and she does relax her shoulders quickly at the contact. Then looks up, face red, at him before wiping her face again and crawling suddenly into his lap. She takes a deep breath, regaining some of her usual colour and composure as Jason just sits solid and c o m p l e t e l y still beneath her, flashing him a quick, toothless smile. “Thank you for finding this Jason, it’s important to me.” She looks at the bottle in her hands, not wanting to put it down and risk losing it again even as she knows its irrational that she would do it twice in a row. “Its… how I keep him away… “

Y/N looks up at Jason, eyebrows risen up her forehead to watch him cautiously, worriedly, looking for signs. Did he understand what you were talking about? And if so, is he okay at the mention of your father?

He’s just completely unmoving still. Y/N blinks at the utter lack of responce. “Jason?”

When she still doesn’t receive a response, she taps his mask gently. “Jaaaason?”

That gets his attention, as he looks down at her face… and nods. A wonky smile that makes his somehow-still-beating heart flutter weirdly appears on her face and she looks outside instead. “So, what did you come to see me for? Ya just missed me? Hah, I missed you too cutie. How about we go for a walk? Its pretty today- ah.” When Jason’s big arms suddenly, slowly take action and wrap heavily around her, she’s pleasantly surprised. Her anxieties and panic from earlier all but slip from their knot in her chest and disappear at the action, and she responds by turning properly to her side in his lap so she can lean into his chest. “Oor we could cuddle. That sounds better anyway!~”

She taps the side of his face affectionately before closing her eyes, and he lets his own half lid themselves at the feeling of her so close to him. She’s so cute and warm. Its weird, but he thinks- if someone were to come right now in this moment, and not be loud and not do anything to Y/N or him… he would probably let them go.

(Well at least until he let her go.)

[sailtheplains]

Star Wars talk - Darth Snookie

Let’s discuss Star Wars.

 Okay, I will admit, the countdown on the Rebel transport was kinda cheezy and felt a little forced. But, I did like that Poe seemed to take a real lesson from it (though that brings up the question of why the General didn’t tell anyone her plan when Poe asked her to---that seemed kinda dumb).

 The introduction of Rose, I thought, was cool. Especially as a Vietnamese-American actress. I really admire their efforts to diversify Star Wars.  And I like that we didn’t end up in another seedy bar but in a casino—because we have to remember, the Star Wars universe is fucking huge. We’ve only seen a tiny sliver of it. So I actually didn’t really mind them taking their little side trip to….wherever the hell that was. To pick up the dude from The Usual Suspects, Benici Del Toro, who I thought was an interesting addition and I wonder if we’ll be seeing him again sometime. He’s a great actor. I feel like it would be a waste to throw away that character.

 BB8 returns as well to show us that he and R2D2 are the only fuckmothering Gryffindors up in here.

  But the two elements I really loved, was Mark Hamil back as an older, more jaded, Luke Skywalker. And the strange bond developing between Rey and Kylo.

 First, Luke Skywalker—because this was what almost got me into an argument with my roommate’s brother-in-law on Christmas day. They wanted Luke Skywalker to remain this legend, a myth. But he didn’t. Because Luke never thought of himself as a legend. He killed Darth Vader, yeah, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t relish it. It wasn’t satisfying to him. Vader was his father. And the Dark Side of the Force destroyed Anakin from the core.  

 Luke never thought of himself as this “great master”. He was barely trained when he first faced Vader. He was a terrified kid. That fight changed him. When we meet him in Return of the Jedi, he’s clearly grown but still has a tendency to not always plan ahead. Yoda then leaves him, just as Luke is coming to terms with how little he actually knows about the Jedi at all.

 Luke was not raised as a Jedi. And Luke correctly identifies it as a religion. Because that’s what it is. He makes a very good point to Rey, that the Force exists whether there are Jedi and Sith or not. All they did was give it a name. The Jedi became romanticized, deified—because its totally true. (Folks don’t like Luke Skywalker being a real human.)

 But Luke studied the Force and the way of the Jedi anyway, even after the fall of the Empire and presumably all through Leia’s reconstruction of the galactic government or whatever. He found out about the Jedi temples and the sacred texts—who knows how, really (Wookiepedia, presumably). He gathered what he could to teach those who came to him, including his own nephew, Ben Solo. But the only expertise he had was his own and whatever advice he may have picked up during his very short training sessions with Kenobi and Yoda. (It’s still a little odd to me that Luke and Leia never, like, got together to study the Force or something. She clearly can use it as well.)

 So he attempts to train these dozen or so kids, gets spooked by something he sees in his nephew and decides to go get a read on him.

 The Light Side of the Force took one look at Ben and was like, “Nope.”

 And Luke has a moment where it was instinctive for him to snuff out any Dark that he found, even if it was his own nephew.

 That was the turning point. Cue the awkward wake up where Ben, a scared young man, sees his uncle standing over him with a lightsaber and panics. And that was it—everything Luke has put together, dashed in a single night.

 Though, of course, Kylo does not explain what happened himself. He simply asks Rey if she knew, and if Luke told her. But he never actually states his interpretation of what happened—except for the bit about thinking his uncle was going to kill him. But he never claims to have killed the other apprentices. Kylo does the same thing about Rey’s parents, claiming to know who they are—and then asking her if she knows who they were. When she says “no one”, he goes with it. So it was hard to tell what exactly he did know about her and what was him probing for information. But more on this later.

 Of course, he could have killed his nephew and potentially saved his temple. But he would likely never forgive himself for killing another member of his own family just for the Force.

 That was the point. The Jedi had become so stagnant and sterile that, as Luke notes, at the height of their power—Sidious took over the fucking Senate and gave rise to Darth Vader and no one figured it out? Maybe the Jedi and the Sith had become too polarized. Maybe it wasn’t Good and Bad so much as simply Defend and Attack.

 Because Luke was not raised in the Jedi order, he was able to step back from it and look passed the façade of myth surrounding the Jedi and Sith. It’s no different from an Atheist getting into a religion and wanting to study it first. So Luke studies and finds some shady shit.

 So that, plus him nearly instinctively killing his nephew—and having all that go to shit—he retreats from using the Force. Because the Force is as much a blessing as a curse. 

Yeah, the Force is strong in his family: his father is dead, his mother is dead, his adoptive aunt and uncle are dead, Ben Kenobi is dead, Yoda is dead, his friends from back home are dead, he lost his hand, he lost his home, he never knew his sister, he had to kill his father, he nearly killed his own nephew. Was that a religion he really wanted to be part of?

 And Luke steps back to look at this religion and way of life and finds it full of holes and bullshit. And after his temple burns, nephew disappears and apprentices are slaughtered….he probably feels pretty fucking terrible. Because again, Luke wasn’t arrogant. He had a lot of doubt. He didn’t believe in himself very much. And he saw that as a terrible failure. Like he destroys everything he touches. Had he driven Ben Solo to the dark side or had Ben gone on his own? And if so, why? How? What had turned Anakin? Luke doesn’t really know. So he turns the blame inward.

 It’s actually a very human response. So he leaves Leia to politics and stops connecting to the Force—to get his shit figured out, likely. And after everything he suffered—maybe he just wanted somewhere quiet. He was never a statesman. That was Leia. Ben Kenobi went to be a hermit and maybe he unconsciously followed that example. Trauma will do that to people.

 So then this kid shows up with a lot of inherent power and we get a little montage of her following him around, which he grumpily tolerates. But bits of young Luke Skywalker still shine through—he was always a little bit of a smart-ass. More subtle than Han. It’s nice to see that again.  (Though when he realized Chewie is there with the Falcon and Han isn’t. I was like, “Oh!” ;_;)

 I thought it was a good touch to bring Yoda back and remind us that Luke was just a man. Always looking at the horizon. His mind was never on where he was and what he was doing. And that’s just who Luke was as a person. And he still is. Because he wasn’t a god. He wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t Jesus. He was just a farmer from a dirtball outer rim planet.

 And you realize how very young Luke still is compared to Yoda and how much he still doesn’t know and will never be able to know. He was a ‘master’, yes. But only because there was no one else. Compared to other species in the galaxy with the ability to use the Force—he might still be a young man. Just like Yoda addresses him as, “Young Skywalker”

 I thought it was actually really cool that instead of blindly following the Jedi Order, Luke steps back and examines it—contemplating whether to change it or just let it die out completely.

 And then he decides to come back to the Force to help them. I don’t see what all the Fankids are bitching about. It was some nice character work for Luke, because he has suffered a lot and he never really saw himself as anything special. (Also, I burst out laughing when he brushed his shoulder off. Luke Skywalker throws some bomb shade.)

 This brings me to Rey and Kylo Ren. So Snookie takes a page from Voldemort’s book and establishes a brain link between Rey and Kylo—presumably, without the latter’s knowledge—as Leader Snoke seems to indicate when taunting Rey about it. 

This leads to some interesting moments that feel….uncomfortable, weird, almost intimate. But at the same time, it’s intriguing to watch them attempt to communicate. She is the more ‘naïve’, I would guess and it’s not a big mystery to say that a young woman who is accustomed to a life of hardship would be made uncomfortable by Kylo without his shirt while also sharing a weird mindlink with him somehow.

 But at the same time…she’s trying to learn about him and knowing that he’s Han’s and Leia’s son—and she totally thinks those two are/were cool as shit—she’s determined to try, at least.

 Especially after Kylo brings her to Snookie. It was difficult to really tell if he had planned the entire thing or decided on a whim to kill Snook. So it’s hard to say what Kylo’s real goal is. This movie kind of displays what makes Kylo Ren so different from other Star Wars villains. Human Sith are almost always portrayed in the films as menacing, calculated and cold. Kylo is different. He’s the Zuko of this team.

 Luke said that Snook had gotten to Ben before he went to check on him at the temple. So how and when did Snook get in contact with Ben Solo originally? How old was Ben when Luke started his training?

 So now you have an unstable young man with a lot of inherent power and a lot of rage, frustration and self-hatred. There is just so much of it. Enough of it that Kylo somehow hid his intentions from Snookie. 

Kylo kind of gets a lot of shit because he is kind of awkward, almost. Socially, physically, emotionally. He’s so driven and passionate and intense about everything he seems to do. And now that he appears to be in control of the Order….now what will he do? He lets himself give in to the intensity and aggression of the Dark Side. Not unlike Zuko and his chaotic firebending. Only Ben doesn’t have an Uncle Iroh anymore.  

  So, overall, yeah—some bits dragged, the Resistance thing is kinda meh. How the Senate keeps getting fucked up is kinda crazy—yeah, some of that was pretty thin. But I like what they’re working on with the characters. It could end up being really interesting. And Poe finally meets Rey—which was kinda cute for a minute. I’d like to go see it again to keep examining the details.

[archergwenwrites]

ZM Day 14 - Beauty and the Beast

(A/N: Only it's not a Beauty and the Beast AU, even if it does involve beauties and brats and people acting like beasts. Fiddled with ages for convenience)

“I don’t want to hear your stupid bedtime story.”

“Well, little sisters who don’t listen to their brothers just have to suck it up and do as he says. And you are going to get a bedtime story.”

“I’m twelve, I’m too old for a bedtime story.”

Zuko, newly eighteen and feeling the crushing weight of responsibilities, glared at his sister. “Again, it sucks to be you. Dad left me in charge, so get comfortable.”

“Is this a kissing story?”

“No. Now listen.

“Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince. But all was not well in his kingdom, for his mother was missing-”

“Dead.”

“What?”

“Mom’s dead, Zuko, stop pretending she’s not, even in a fairy tale that is so heavy handed about being your life. If this is gonna be a dumb ‘beauty and the beast’ adaption, I hope you’re not trying to be the beauty.”

“Just shut up and let me tell the story. As I was saying, the mother was missing, and the prince’s father often left on long trips, trying to save the kingdom from certain destruction.”

“You hate Dad; why is he sympathetic in this story?”

“Oh my god, Azula, shut up!”

She pulled a face in response. “Just asking questions. Not my fault you’re a bad storyteller.”

“All will be explained. And if it’s not explained, it’s not important to the story. So, the prince has no parents ninety percent of the time. What he did have was a baby sister, who cried and cried, and even with an army of nannies and assistants the prince was expected to care for her and the kingdom as if he was his father.”

“Wow. Now I know how you feel about me.”

“Maybe if you shut up and listened, you could be a hero in the story, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get to the point.”

“One night, as his sister cried and cried, and the kingdom continued to flounder, the prince reached his breaking point. You see, what no one in the kingdom knew was that the Queen of Goblins had fallen in love with the prince, and given him certain powers. And so, at the height of his desperation, the prince fell to the ground before his sister’s room and cried: ‘Goblin Queen! Goblin Queen! Where ever you may be, take this child away from me!’”

Azula burst into laughter. "That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard! What happens next? The Queen takes him as her king in trade for his sister? Come on, Zuko!”

“No,” he murmured, heart sinking. “He saves his sister and spurns the Queen.”

Azula didn’t hear him, laughing as she was. Neither did she hear him mutter a goodnight and stand, leaving her room with the click of the door. She was still laughing when he turned in the hall to look back at her room.

He winced as another peal of laughter - high and cruel - sounded through the door.

“I wish the goblins would come and take you away.” He turned his back on her room. “Right now.”

Silence.

The world around him seemed to shift and that was what he was aware of first, the silence. He immediately ran back into Azula’s room, heart in his throat. Her covers were thrown back, and she was gone.

Zuko fumbled for the light switch, only it seemed like a useless decoration on the wall for all the use it was. He stepped farther into her room, glancing about anxiously.

“Azula? Azula, come out. This isn’t funny.”

“No, it’s not,” came an unfamiliar voice, and Zuko pivoted towards the window, one hand throwing a wild punch easily caught by the stranger’s hand.

She stared at him, blue eyes alight with mischief. Her skin, a warm reddish-brown not unlike the sepia-colored pictures his mother used to collect, seemed to glow with power as her brown hair fluttered about her face, almost alive. She was draped in blue, a richer blue than Zuko had ever seen. Her cape, black as night with serrated edges, billowed about her, almost as if it was reaching for him.

There was also a shower of glitter.

“Hello, Zuko. How are we this evening?”

“Give my sister back.”

“Such defiance. And straight to the point, too. Well, well.”

She began to circle him, having let drop his hand, and she resembled nothing but predator. “You wished her away. I cannot just give her back to you.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“What’s said is said, Zuko.”

“She’s my sister, not my child, so she’s not mine to give away.”

The Goblin Queen - for that’s all who she could be - laughed. “You said it yourself, Zuko. Your father left you in charge. He left you responsible for her, so you were her guardian and had every right to wish her away.”

With a twist of her gloved hand, a crystal appeared in her fingers. “I came to offer you a gift, your dreams. Nothing more. But it is not a gift for a little prince who cares for a spoiled brat.”

Zuko wanted to accept it. The crystal called to him with images of the family business safe, his father’s love, his mother returned. No bratty, better younger sibling hanging over him like a knife, as likely to cut him as to hug him.

“Forget about your sister.

Your sister. Your responsibility. You have to protect her.

His mother had never made it clear what he was supposed to protect Azula from, the world, their dad, herself. But he tried. And maybe he’d failed before, but now he clenched his hands into fists at his sides and repeated his demand again.

“Give my sister back.”

She sighed, the crystal vanishing with a pop. “Such a pity. Since you did not listen before, I will explain further in detail. Look there,” she began, moving to his side and pointing out Azula’s window.

Where usually there was a copse of trees and more suburbia, there was now what looked like a sprawling, labyrinthine castle on a mountain. Zuko realized he was now standing on a hill across from the gates to the labyrinth, the Queen still at his side.

“You see the castle there, at the center of my labyrinth? Your sister is there, waiting. I’m sure you familial bond will lead you to her eventually, only that’s no fun for me.” An orante clock appeared, hanging in the tree beside them, with one more hour than he was accustomed to. “You have thirteen hours to solve the labyrinth and get your sister back. Or else she becomes one of us, forever.”

The Queen vanished into thin air, leaving only her final, ominous words behind. The second hand on the clock began to move, and Zuko sprang into action, running towards the gates as fast as his feet would take him.

Katara re-materialized just outside of her throne room. She hated that part, interacting with those so callous as to wish away family members even if they did regret it immediately. There was an almost overpowering feeling that something different was at play here, so she leaned against the door to listen to her new charge before entering.

To her surprise, the young twelve year old was trying to martial her goblins and turn them against her. Strange, reconnaissance indicated the heir, the elder child naturally preferred by cut-throat business types, was the cunning one. However, it would not surprise Katara if in a family of snakes even the mostly-cast-off good one was a skilled manipulator.

Well, better to keep the child on her toes. The goblins were too simple and too loyal to be turned astray.

She transported herself onto her throne in an overly showy display complete with showers of glitter and a swirling blue and purple orb to announce where exactly she was arriving. While capable of appearing in total silence and stealth, if this new charge was determined to act as enemy, Katara would keep some secrets.

“And who are you,” the almost imperial twelve year old demanded.

Katara smiled, attempting to put her at ease. “Who else could I be, but the Goblin Queen?”

The girl’s jaw dropped. “You mean, that story was real?”

“It came as quite the shock to Zuko, too.”

She must process very quickly, for the twelve year old was only silent for a beat before scoffing, “I bet it was even a bigger surprise that you didn’t cart him off to be king.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. She hoped this was not a coping mechanism.

“So what’s my idiot brother doing with his freedom now that he doesn’t have to take care of me?”

Katara desperately wanted to share a tale of a callous older brother who abandoned her. It would chip away at the familial bond, and while Zuko would still be pulled towards the castle, the labyrinth would be a much harsher place. But, if he did manage to make his presence known, the surge of hope in her brother on the part of Azula could very well knock down all the walls in between them. The Goblin Queen also knew that to feel alone could very well break this already abandoned child.

“Look for yourself.”

She tossed a crystal to the young girl, who stared, transfixed, at the image of her brother kicking at the doors to the labyrinth, demanding they open. Her eyes glanced up at Katara.

“He demanded a chance to get you back, so I gave him one. It’s not a big chance, but he took it anyway.”

“And my father? He’s supposed to be home soon.”

“He’ll arrive home at midnight, yes? Just under three hours from now. He will find his children missing, and likely begin searching for them. And when your brother’s thirteen hours are up, I will return him home at midnight, unwinding your father’s panicked search.”

Azula raised an eyebrow, looking back at the crystal. “You don’t think he’ll get me back. You don’t think he’ll win.”

“No one ever does.”

Zuko had spent his first thirty minutes running to the gate and yelling at them. Hurling abuse did not seem the key to opening them, however, so he began to scour the area around the gates, trying to find the way in.

Instead, he found a short, black haired girl catching fairies, knocking them out with a spray and then putting them in a large jar on the ground.

“Um, hi.”

She whirled to face him, and Zuko realized she was blind.

“How are you catching them?” He blurted out before thinking.

“Magic.” And she wiggled her fingers at him for good measure. “Now who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“I’m Zuko. My sister’s in the castle, and I have to get her.”

The girl laughed. “I see. She stole your dolls one too many times? Kept coming in when you wanted to seduce a girl? Did she mess up your mint condition comic books?”

“No,” said Zuko, some negative emotion twisting his mouth. “She was teasing me again, and just being a brat, and it’s complicated. Look, how do you get in?”

“Huh. So she hurt you, - don’t think I’m not curious about the rest of that story - and now she’s got consequences you want to save her from? You’re quite the big brother. I’ll help you.” The small girl made for the gates.

“Thank you. I just can’t leave Azula with that lady.”

“The Goblin Queen? Katara’s not that bad. She actually cares about the children wished away. If you fail, she’ll find her a good family to adopt into, though if she’s old enough to tease and make it hurt, Katara will have her work cut out for her. Not many of the Summer Court would appreciate an obviously barb-tongued heir. Too bad things are a mess with the Winter Court.”

Zuko glanced around at the barren landscape, scraggly trees and pathetic bushes. “This is part of the Summer Court?”

“Oh no. The Underground is its own, no influence here. But you see, hold on.” She turned to the gates, rapped twice, and said, “open up, please.”

“That’s all I had to do?”

The girl shrugged. “It will probably help you to think of the Labyrinth as alive, as her own player.”

Zuko stepped into the maze with a careful look around. “Come with me? I’m still really confused about what you mean by Summer Court. And my sister isn’t going to be a goblin?”

The girl sighed. “I can’t. I have a job to do, and it doesn’t involve escorting confused young runners through the Labyrinth and explain Fae politics you’ll never have to deal with. You’ll wake up thinking this was a dream, win or lose. You seem honest though, like you got one of those faces people just tell their problems to.” She stuck her hand out to shake. “Name’s Toph. Good luck, Zuko.”

“Thanks.” As he ran off to the right, the gates closed behind him.

Toph turned to go back to her work, but her eyes widened as she remembered Zuko’s voice, and just what about him encouraged her to share so much. She had to get to the castle. Katara needed to know exactly who was in the Underground.

She took off running, then slowed, then stopped. What was she running for? The fairy jar was right over there.

Whistling, Toph returned to her work.

(This AU will return later. For now, I’d better stop before this grows to huge lengths)