#but Avatar had some so respect it and use it to send a good message!

[tategaminu]

This is the last thing Im gonna comment about the Avatar live action but a friend told me they removed Sokka's sexist lines and it's super ridiculous. I feel like a lot of a writers (live actions mostly I think) are obsessed with the idea that main characters should be complete saints. Didn't Sokka get over this in the original series? If you have a main character with some sexist ideas get them to grow up. Sokka met a lot of cool women in his journey‚ falling in love with two and eventually abandoned this side of him right? It's a subtle but great way of getting the message across because surprise surprise not all of your main characters have to be perfect good people‚ some will have their asshole side‚ let them have their asshole side

[bugeyedfreaks]

Hello there, @bugeyedfreaks,

Yes, this may or may not be related to the Powerpuff Girls cartoon show itself, but, in addition to providing the voice of The Powerpuff Girls' so-called "commander and the leader" Blossom, the voice for whom she is best known in so many circles, Cathy Cavadini once provided the voice of Fievel's older sister Tanya Mousekewitz for An American Tail's 1991 sequel Fievel Goes West as well as the Fievel's American Tails TV show from which it spawned. And here she is in her beautiful, pretty, lovely, gorgeous and very stunning "the Girl You Left Behind" show girl gown dress outfit thing and makeup during Fievel Goes West's saloon scenes:

Speaking of Cathy Cavadini voicing Tanya, I had heard somewhere along the grapevines that during the making of An American Tail: Fievel Goes West itself, Tanya was supposed to be voiced in that movie by someone else filling in for Amy Green and Betsy Cathcart who had respectively spoken and sang as the Tanya character in the original 1986 American Tail movie of Don Bluth, when one day, the late great movie music composer James Horner (who worked with James Cameron on the music for Aliens, Titanic, and Jim Cameron's Avatar movie from 2009) was listening to Cathy Cavadini singing her demo of the beautiful Fievel Goes West song "Dreams to Dream", and in fact, James Horner was so moved by Cavadini's singing demo of the Dreams to Dream song, which touches and sends his heartstrings all the way down to its very core, that James Horner himself successfully persuades presenter and producer Steven Spielberg to let Cavadini voice Tanya for Fievel Goes West in the finished film. And the rest, they say, was history.

In addition, @bugeyedfreaks, I had actually got in touch with Cathy Cavadini herself online, and back in July 23rd, 2021, in fact, I sent her a very sweet message of an email to her requesting for an mp3 shoutout recording and two autograph pictures featuring two of the characters that she voiced, one of Blossom the Powerpuff Girl, and one of Fievel's mouse sister Tanya, and here they are hanging in my bedroom:

And here's the very cute and very beautiful, and aforementioned mp3 shoutout recording that Cathy Cavadini happen to sent me back in July 2021, and featuring Cathy Cavadini herself, as well as Blossom the Powerpuff Girl and Tanya the girl mouse singer of An American Tail fame, complete with part of the beautiful Dreams to Dream song that Tanya sang in A Capella:

Now, I may not know why I got those two autograph pictures and one mp3 shoutout recording from Cathy Cavadini back in July 2021, but as the story goes, Cathy Cavadini really liked my sweet email to her so much that she agrees to send me those three things, but on the condition that I pay eighty dollars for those things.

So I called up my mom, who happened to finish up cleaning out her sister's old house for the night at the time, on the phone to send her some good news about me sending a sweet message to Cathy Cavadini and I told her that she and I will pay 80 bucks for the Blossom and Tanya autograph pictures and one mp3 shoutout recording from Cathy Cavadini, and soon enough, my mother and I paid eighty dollars for it all using something like PayPal or something, and now, I'm still happy with the Cathy Cavadini/Blossom/Tanya mp3 shoutout recording and the two autograph pictures of Blossom and Tanya hanging side by side on my bedroom.

Yes, you, just like everyone else, may always and forever remember Cathy Cavadini best for voicing Blossom, the so-called "commander and the leader" of the Powerpuff Girls who hailed from the City of Townsville, but as a matter of fact, @bugeyedfreaks, Cathy Cavadini is also the voice of An American Tail: Fievel Goes West's Divine Diva Showgirl, Miss Tanya Mousekewitz, elder sister of Fievel Mousekewitz of Don Bluth's An American Tail fame:

So, what do you think?

Yours truly,

@ulyssesbobmac

Nice! Another member of the Cathy Cavadini fan elite! 💪 She's truly the best of the best.

I swear I’ve mentioned it on my blog before, but when I was a little baby Bug (a grub, if you will), I would basically watch two particular VHS tapes on repeat: one was Cinderella, and the other was Fievel Goes West. There’s SO much that I loved about that movie, but I adored Tanya and her story, and along with all the songs from Cinderella, I would absolutely belt out hers whenever I got the chance. Later on, when I ended up becoming the huge Blossom fan that I am today, I looked into Cathy’s old work and was surprised/not surprised to find out she voiced and sang as my fave mouse girl. Crazy! That's also such a cool story about how she got the role, but the lady's got excellent pipes. It was a no-brainer for them to cast her. 😆

And I’m so glad that you got those autographs and that voice recording from her! That's very sweet. I got to meet her and the girls and Tom Kane a couple years back and she was seriously one of the nicest of the bunch, so I definitely hope that in the future you get the opportunity to say hi to her in person! 💖

[firelxdykatara]

If you interpret Katara’s aggression towards Zuko as romantic affection, then you have some serious issues of your own. Is a very dangerous message for teenage girls indeed. People who ship Zutara have to seriously analyze how unhealthy the message of the pairing would be. Katara hated Zuko for a valid reason, and to twist it into something it’s not is massively disrespectful to both the character. The outdated and ridiculous notion that a girl who acts like she doesn’t like a guy is simply “confused” and “denying her feelings” is so sexist and degrading. Take her emotions at face value. It's never been

Yawn. Boring. This is the same old tired argument I’ve heard a million times before--the one that proves a) you don’t actually understand how relationships work, and b) you’ve never read a single zutara meta in your life, because that’s the only way you could seriously get the ‘good girl is secretly in love with the bad boy and hopes to fix him’ read of a relationship that bares absolutely no resemblance to that particular collection of tropes either in the show or in our fandom.

But ok! I’ll bite, since you clearly want so badly to be educated and evidently don’t have the time to watch the show yourself, nor the reading comprehension necessary to understand the sort of media analysis that goes on in a lot of atla and zutara-focused meta in this fandom.

Which probably means that anything I write here will fly right over your head, but oh well, what can you do?

At any rate, the first mistake you’ve made here is assuming that I (or zutara shippers in general, but since you came into my inbox, I’m going to be taking this just as personally as you clearly intended me to) interpret Katara’s aggression towards Zuko as romantic at any point in the series prior to their reconciliation (after which point, there is no aggression from Katara aimed at Zuko for anyone, me included, to interpret romantically in the first place). I don’t, and I never have, and neither does a vast majority of the zutara fandom in the spaces I frequent (which encompasses tumblr, occasionally twitter, and the very large zutara discord server I’ve been an active part of for two years now). Pointing out oddly suggestive tension in early parts of the series (such as the “I’ll save you from the pirates” and “you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun” lines, or the fact that Zuko wore Katara’s necklace around his wrist for like nine episodes when there was absolutely no need for it) is just that--pointing out tension.

There doesn’t need to be feelings for there to be tension, antagonistic or otherwise, but that tension is the foundation from which their relationship arc throughout the series grew, developed, and eventually evolved. This is what is generally known as relationship development, and it occurs when two characters go from having one kind of relationship to another within the course of the story.

For example, enemies, who become friends, who become lovers.

Now, your mileage may vary on this next part (although I really hope not, cause Y I K E S), but I, personally, think that ‘if a boy kisses you without your consent, but he really really loves you, then you owe it to him to love him back, especially if he just saved the world, and you should never expect an apology because since you suddenly decided you return those feelings, that means the violation of your boundaries was ok since clearly you really liked him all along’ is a much more damaging message to send to young girls--and boys, to be frank, especially since learning about consent is hugely important at young ages--than ‘if a boy who was your enemy goes to great lengths to better himself, to the point where you forgive him for when he hurt you and become close friends with him, then it’s normal for those feelings to grow and change, even to the point of becoming romantic, and it’s ok to explore them’.

And guess which one of those is canon to the AtLA finale?

Next, you say ‘Katara hated Zuko for a valid reason’ as if that was ever in dispute. It wasn’t--certainly not on my blog. I know there are some people who hate Katara because she was ‘too mean’ to Zuko, but I don’t agree with them, nor do I associate with them, since I have no time, energy, or room in my life for Katara slander. However, do you know what the operative word is in that sentence? Hated. As in past tense. As in, ‘Katara used to hate Zuko, but by the end of the show that is no longer the case, and they are extremely close friends with a deep bond and multiple life-debts between them’.

Why are you so insistent on not only denying Zuko’s hard-earned and bitterly fought for redemption, but also Katara’s emotions and feelings, which you end this weirdly disjointed ask by insisting they be taken at face value?

And it’s actually really funny (ironic funny, not so much ‘ha ha’ funny) that you use the word ‘confused’ there, followed by the phrase ‘denying her real feelings’, and then call that ‘sexist and degrading’, as if that isn’t exactly what happened in Katara’s canon endgame in the show.

She said point blank that she was confused, she showed with her words, tone, and body language that she was not open to Aang’s romantic advances, she had completely forgotten about the last time he’d kissed her without her consent, rather than reflecting on her romantic feelings as one would expect of a girl who’d been kissed by someone we’re supposed to believe she’s had feelings for since book 1, and was completely taken aback by Aang’s reaction to the play and his weird believe that they ‘were gonna be together’, when she had never once indicated that she wanted to be with him in any romantic sense. And yet, he kissed her--and while she got angry about it and stormed off in the moment, he never apologized for crossing her boundaries, and they also didn’t have a single significant scene together between that moment and the epilogue.

What happened to taking Katara’s emotions at face value? What happened to how ‘sexist and degrading’ it is to assume that if a girl says she’s confused, that must mean she’s ‘denying her feelings’? What happened to caring about Katara’s agency, even a little bit?

Anyway, I’m gonna wrap this up by saying: I do not believe Zuko and Katara should’ve been making out in the finale instead. I actually hate the fact that the final shot of AtLA was a romantic kiss (particularly for such a poorly written pairing), rather than a shot of the gaang together like it should have been to show what the series was meant to be about. I think that focusing on the romantic relationships in the finale undercut an already weak ending to an otherwise great (not perfect, but certainly good enough that it deserved much better closure) show.

That said, I also think a Zutara kiss would have been more earned, at that point in both of their narratives. Because Katara’s feelings had been the focus of their relationship throughout its entirety. Zuko’s feelings mattered, too, of course, (in stark contrast to how they were treated during his relationship with Mai), but Katara was the one who got to choose when and why and what she felt about him. She got to choose when to forgive him. She got to choose to help him, and to save his life, and her emotions were frequently the focus in a way they never were during her relationship with Aang, so nudging those into a more romantic light not only would have fit better with her character arc, it also would have been far less jarring to see that as the culmination of their respective storylines, rather than a romantic kiss coming out of nowhere when her very last scene with him was being kissed without her consent and storming off about it because it upset her.

My most fervent hope, anon, is that some day you actually watch the show, Avatar: the Last Airbender. Because Katara and Zuko are amazing characters, they have amazing storylines both separately and together, and it’s really a crime whenever someone misunderstands both of them so badly. I hope that when you do watch the show, you pay attention. You may see something amazing.

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Game Master Akuma AU by  crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

[portraitoftheoddity]

So like I really like Steve and all and he's definitely got the right heart and that's what fandom likes about him, how he stood up to bullies and injustice with his fist raised. But recently I've rewatched avatar and Aang got me thinking, is going against the world fist ready really the right thing. Like Aang was no coward he still stopped Ozai but in most of his battles he tries for peace first. In fact Avatar as a whole talks about change in people.

Like Sokka turned from misogynistic to respecting women, and Iroh's love and patience redeemed Zuko. As much as I love Steve Rogers, fist fighting bullies and getting your ass handed to you or successfully beating them to a pulp isn't going to change them, and it sends a wrong message of fighting fire with fire and bullies don't learn when you punch them usually they get pettier. I agree Steve is right at not letting injustice go be it canon or fandom but Iove that scene in avatar when Aang got into a fire nation school and when a guy tried to fight him he was just like nooope but still managed to be on top as opposed to Steve (maybe just fan fic ver) who would try a punch. I mean I can see Steve screaming at the lies of the fire nation school instead of calmly informing the truth and throwing a dance party. Like Aang might be too pacific sometimes but is charging against people really a good lesson. Stand for what's right, but like in a chill way. And I'm not sure if this is just the fandom version of Steve but in TFS we did kinda see him in an alley fight against a just a ride guy. Sorry about the long rant but what do you think about Steve's fight me attitude being completely glorified in his fandom.

I apologize that I’m gonna gonna get a little long-winded here!

I agree with you that peaceful solutions are great to try first, but when it comes to this punch-happy version of Steve you reference, I think you’re kinda looking at a strawman version of the character, anon --  maybe from poorly-written fic or memes, but not exactly the Steve of film or comics.

Now, the respective approaches of both Aang and Steve are in part a product of the media they originated in. A show aimed at kids with a single overall plotline and arc is often going to aim for a peaceful solution and allow for linear character growth -- while comics, movies and shows developed around a character specifically designed to punch Hitler as a statement during WWII are less likely to have a core message of pacifism, and their structure and circular timelines make growth arcs more difficult to sustain. This doesn’t mean one character’s approach or the other is superior, just that they come from different contexts, narratively and in terms of medium. Plus, there are different kinds of fights, and not all are going to offer us the same options as solutions. Looking for ideological purity -- only ever opting for the ‘right’ solution -- can often lead to doing nothing when no ‘right’ solution presents itself, which can result in more harm than taking a less-than-perfect action.

Let us not forget that when an authoritarian army showed up to kill everyone and wipe out the North Pole, Aang does go all Koizilla with the ocean spirit and wipes out the Fire Nation fleet. Aang has fought people. Aang, albeit with the alibi of “a spirit was in charge”, indirectly kills people (Zhao ends up pretty dead as a direct result of Aang’s spirit rampage). This isn’t particularly glorified, but at the time there isn’t a better outcome presented. Doing nothing would have led to the massacre of the Northern Water Tribe.

That said, I LOVE ATLA and its messages of growth and compassion and I think it’s great to have a protagonist who opts to give people a way out.

...Which is what Steve does. 

We see Steve do this more than once. In CA:TWS, Steve recognizes Bucky and tried to get through to him, to avoid a fight. One ensues, but Steve then refuses to fight him anymore once he’s disabled the helicarrier and saved everyone else, willingly putting his own life on the line to gamble on some part of Bucky’s inner self being in there and worth saving. He isn’t willing to put the lives of other innocents and noncombatants on the line -- protecting them is a priority, even if it means fighting Bucky -- but once that factor is out of the equation, he drops his shield and tries to reach him.

In the same movie, a few scenes earlier, Steve appeals to the personnel of SHIELD -- an organization that has labeled him a terrorist and been hunting him -- and paints out the reality of the situation, giving the good people within the opportunity to react and rebel against the element of HYDRA that has infiltrated -- which they do! But there isn’t a magical lionturtle showing up to tell him how to stop the helicarriers from taking off and murdering millions of people without any casualties, so, yanno. He does what he can. 

Heck, Steve is occasionally teased by other characters for his speechifying -- not just to give pep talks, but to try to get through to people. He does this in the comics a lot. You’ve probably seen this page going around:

It doesn’t always work out. But he tries.

You suggest Steve would punch someone who was wrong in Aang’s Fire Nation School, but I don’t agree with that reading on the character based on what we see Steve do. Steve very rarely is the one to completely initiate a fight. Usually he is reactive. He sees a situation where someone is being a jerk, points out the injustice, and if the person is insisting on hurting someone, Steve inserts himself to make sure it’s him instead of anyone else. Whether the jerk in question is a single bully or an entire army.

You bring this scene up, but when Steve confronts the guy heckling in the movie theater (who is making a woman cry, I’ll add), it’s clear from the man’s posture when he stands up and Steve’s look of dread that while Steve has spoken up, the escalation to violence is not his choice. When we see him a moment later in the alley, he’s fighting defensively -- drawing the man’s ire, keeping him distracted. Steve is reactive in this entire scenario -- not the instigator. (and I think if Steve had Aang’s airbending, he’d love to dodge more punches instead of getting his ass kicked!)

The fact that Steve’s primary weapon is a shield -- a symbol of defense, not offense -- speaks to the fact his entire MO is protection. Violence not for violence’s sake, but to intervene in existing violence when there is no other recourse.

But Steve also admittedly has a stronger sense of responsibility than Aang does at the series’ start. Aang dodges, but he also gets called out by other characters for running away from a lot of his problems instead of confronting them. Steve, if he were a bender, I think would likely be an Earthbender like Toph; solid, stubborn, listening and reacting (though ironically, he would lose his shit over the willful obliviousness and apathy of Ba Sing Se’s leadership). Steve feels a deep personal duty to always be in the thick of it where things are already at their worst. 

If there had been no deus ex machina energybending option presented at the eleventh hour, would it have been better for Aang to die and doom the world than to compromise his morals and kill the Fire Lord? It’s a question of hypothetical principles vs reality of harm in that instance. Aang as a character is allowed by the story to adhere to his principles and get a happy ending. Steve as a character does his best, but ultimately has to compromise with reality when he has to, when it’s not just his life at stake, but many others should he fail to act in time. In those high-stakes scenarios, his cards are often limited.

Steve as a character doesn’t arbitrarily start fights. But he goes to where the status quo is untenable, or where a fight is already raging, and he takes a stand. If he can convince someone to step down peacefully? That’s ideal! But usually by the time Captain America has shown up, there are megaweapons primed and loaded and fascists already hurting people or robots trying to destroy the planet or a Titan about to wipe everyone out, so the ideal option is rarely still on the table. No dance party is gonna be enough to change Red Skull’s crazy nazi mind about killing everyone (which is too bad, because I’d love to watch Steve do the lindy hop). There is no ‘chill way’ to stand for what’s right at that point. 

And ultimately, I think we need both kinds of characters! I think it’s important to encourage diplomacy and compassion, to urge people to find common ground and to find nonviolent ways of diffusing and deescalating situations. To look at things from other perspectives, and to give people the option to learn and grow and be better than they were. I love a good rehabilitation arc, and think ATLA does this beautifully and has incredibly important messaging and philosophies.

But I also think we need stories that say, hey, when those options aren’t on the table? When no one is listening no matter what you try to say, when you’ve looked for a way around it and no lionturtles have showed up to save your ass? Sometimes, you have to put yourself in front of the guy swinging punches and raise you shield and stop him.��Sometimes you don’t get the nice options that make you feel good; sometimes the world is messy and ugly; but sometimes, even if we can’t do the ideal thing, we can still do the right thing. Take action and put an end to the perpetuation of violence in the moment to protect the helpless. (Then work on rehabilitation and communication.)

[somethingwritey]

sneak peek: “run to you” - a rangshi longfic

💖 i am currently working on a rangshi longfic (50k words at the moment) that i’ll eventually publish on ao3. it takes place directly following the events of The Shadow of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee. 

💖 my writing commissions are open! message me with commission requests or questions! 

💖 here’s a sneak peek of “run to you”! 

--- 

Kyoshi had blood on her hands.

Quite literally, at the moment.

She stared down at her palms and fingers, hoping they didn’t shake as badly as she feared.

She knew she needed to wash the weight of Rangi’s blood away, watch it swirl down her arms and out of sight, as if that alone could wipe away the pain she’d caused her girl, but for some reason, Kyoshi couldn’t seem to move her feet.

Every part of her felt heavy and languid, and it was hard work to imagine that these were the same limbs that had carried, defended, and healed only hours ago. Kyoshi wanted to curl up into a ball and wait for someone else to save the world for once.

Because that was the oh, so incessant problem about Avatarhood. No matter how many messes Kyoshi cleaned up, there were still new terrors cropping up the moment she sat down to catch her breath. It was exhausting. Behind all the makeup and armor, she was still the servant girl in the mansion - tasked with the never-ending job of cleaning up.

“You saved her life.”

Kyoshi lifted her head to see Hei-Ran, standing only a little less poised than usual. The teetering fate of Rangi had taken a toll on even the most rigid members of her group.

“I did my duty.” The words came out defeated, as if Kyoshi had lost instead of won. Then again, with Yun’s grey body lying somewhere inside the ruined mansion waiting to be put to rest, and a bloodied Rangi being tended to by Atuat, maybe she couldn’t claim victory after all.

Peace comes at a price.

She heard the words in Lao Ge’s voice, although she was fairly certain he’d never actually uttered them to her.

“You did far beyond that, Avatar.” Hei-Ran thought about it for a moment, then took a seat beside her - flicking her robes out behind her as she did. “You should be honored for what you’ve done.”

“Yeah, except no one will even know!” Kyoshi slammed her fists down on the ground, causing a small tremor beneath them. “Zoryu’s made sure of that! He gets all the credit, and all he’s done is sentence an innocent man to death!”

This outburst probably wouldn’t win her any favor in Hei-Ran’s eyes - the woman so committed to her duty that she’d willingly sacrificed her hair and honor to acknowledge her failures - but Kyoshi couldn’t help it.

Her first choice for a confidant would’ve been Rangi, of course. Or maybe Kelsang. But with the latter dead and the former barely conscious, she supposed the old headmistress would have to do. The woman had claimed Kyoshi as a daughter back in North Chung-Ling. Perhaps that warranted a bit of sympathy or at least a listening ear.

“The Fire Lord’s job is complicated,” Hei-Ran stated. “As is yours. You’ve both been tasked with the impossible: governing a world that does not wish to be governed by you. Chaos is the natural order, Kyoshi, as much as we pretend it is not. The Fire Nation must go to great lengths to maintain our control. Even if it… requires some bloodshed.”

“I didn’t ask for this.” Kyoshi shook her head. She no longer felt the dull aching in her chest that used to come with a reminder of her station, but that didn’t mean the Era of Kyoshi hadn’t been stained with blood and confusion and deceit. 

“The Spirits chose you.”

Why?

The plaintive question would’ve made her sound like a child, so Kyoshi sealed her lips and kept the pleading inside. She wanted answers. And since Hei-Ran would understand nothing more about the mysterious methods of the spirits than she did, Kyoshi decided to at least start with something the woman stood a chance at knowing.

“Was Rangi mad?” She rubbed the side of her face and dried blood flaked off, fluttering towards the ground. “When I left, I mean.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Hei-Ran’s face. “Enough to shoot flames out of her ears.”

For a moment, Kyoshi tried to picture it - a steaming mad Rangi, with her face boiling red and fists clenched into tight balls. The last time she’d gotten that upset, the Firebender had flipped a table off a balcony. For a moment, the memory tugged at the corner of Kyoshi’s mouth - lifting it into a lopsided smile. 

And then the moment passed.

“I’m sorry I killed your daughter.”

Hei-Ran frowned. “You healed her, Kyoshi.”

Only after Rangi had traveled to fight alongside the girl who’d locked her into the ground and put her mother on a possible death bed. “Because I put her in danger. It doesn’t count. Doing right by her after that was just… canceling out the bad.”

Kyoshi felt like she’d been doing that her whole life: making mistakes and then fixing them. It didn’t seem right to take the credit for something she’d messed up in the first place.

You were the one innocent party, Yun had told her. Oh, if only that were the truth.

“Hei-Ran?” Atuat had emerged from the infirmary, traveling up to where Kyoshi and the headmistress sat. Hei-Ran was on her feet immediately, but whether to appear respectable in front of the doctor or out of fear for what news she’d bring, Kyoshi couldn’t be sure.

“How is she?” Kyoshi found her way to her feet as well, Atuat’s presence sending a fresh wave of worry down her spine.

“Oh good, Kyoshi’s here, too. Saves me a trip.” Atuat took her time reaching them and with each passing moment, Kyoshi found herself more and more on edge. By the time the Waterbender made it over, she could feel her body vibrating again.

“Well?” Hei-Ran demanded, clearly just as impatient as Kyoshi, but with better control over her exterior.

“She’s asleep.” Atuat’s manner always confused Kyoshi a bit. She never seemed exhausted by the threat of death. Perhaps she’d just become too acquainted with it, or maybe mastering the power of healing made her immune to the fear. Either way, she always emerged from battle hospitals like she’d finished a rather routine examination.

“Will she be okay?” Kyoshi remembered the crunch of earth as it impaled Rangi’s back. The way the blood had rushed away from her lips. How she’d looked up at her as the life drained away. “Is the damage permanent? I know I didn’t heal her right. I tried my best, but -”

“Kyoshi.” Atuat held up her hand. “Rangi is a strong girl. She’s going to be alright. In pain, certainly, but in the end alright.”

Kyoshi exhaled shakily, barely able to keep it together enough to thank her.

“You need rest, too, Avatar,” Atuat pressed, motioning down towards the infirmary. “There’s a spare bed down the hill.”

The last thing Kyoshi wanted to do was sleep. How could she just let herself clock out when Rangi needed caring for? When the Flying Opera Company was wounded? When Jinpa still hadn’t come down from his medicine high due to her own poor measurements?

As if Atuat could read her mind, the doctor narrowed her eyes. “That monk is off his rocker. You gave him too much.”

“Sorry, sifu.”

“Rest, Kyoshi,” was the only response she got in return. “And take off those clothes. You’ve got blood all over you.”

///

“I can feel you staring at me.”

Kyoshi jumped a little, hurriedly switching her gaze to the other side of the room and away from Rangi’s bed before deciding hiding it was futile. The Firebender hadn’t moved in over two hours, but apparently, the wounded girl was more perceptive than Kyoshi had anticipated.  

“I thought you were sleeping!” Kyoshi whispered, doing her best not to disturb Kirima and Wong, who were asleep in their respective wooden beds.

“I’m resting.” Rangi still hadn’t opened her eyes. “A concept you might not be familiar with.”

A hum of relief ran through Kyoshi’s arms. If Rangi was well enough to give her shit, then maybe that meant the girl would be alright after all.

“I know how to rest.” Kyoshi crossed her arms and did her best to look wounded.  

“Yeah, and Jinpa’s a murderer.”

Kyoshi glanced over at her secretary, who was propped up against the wooden headboard and still singing to himself in dulcet tones.  

“Kyoshi, please try to sleep,” Rangi pleaded.

Easier said than done. Sitting still seemed too difficult for Kyoshi at the moment, let alone actually falling asleep.

“Yeah, well,” Kyoshi mumbled offhandedly. “I’m not really keen on seeing you die again in my dreams.” It came out sounding more dire than she’d meant.

Only then did Rangi open her eyes, staring at Kyoshi from across the way. “I’m fine.”

It would’ve been a lot more convincing if her hands weren’t locked tight around the thin cotton sheets, compensating for some sort of pain she must be feeling.

“Fine?” Kyoshi stared at her incredulously. “You were stabbed.”

“Can you two please keep it down?” Kirima suddenly cut in, gesturing to her splinted leg. “Some of us are trying to heal!”

Apparently, her ability to tell who was asleep badly needed fine-tuning.

“Noise won’t delay that process!” Kyoshi shot back, trying to keep her smile at bay. She really had missed her friends.

Silence fell back over the infirmary, and Kyoshi allowed herself to lean against the headboard for the first time all night. She drew in a shaky breath, basking in the safety she felt around the Flying Opera Company - even if their legs were broken.

It was a few minutes before Rangi spoke again, lowering her voice to whisper in that raspy way of hers. “You’re pretty far away, you know.”

At first, Kyoshi wanted to protest that of course her energy was distant - she’d killed one of her closest friends and nearly lost the other one - before she realized Rangi was speaking literally. She closed her mouth. Hard.

A little too hard, actually. Her jaw still ached where Yun had thrown the discs.

Rangi even managed a little grin. “Do you think Atuat will kill you for sleeping with a patient?”

Giddy with the idea of lying beside Rangi again, Kyoshi slid out of bed and made her way over to the other side of the room. She’d flirted with the idea of climbing in before, but with Rangi’s fragile state, she hadn’t wanted to cause any more damage than she’d already done.

“You’re not gonna break me,” Rangi mumbled, but Kyoshi still saw her struggle to make space in the small frame.

“This is a bad -”

“Will you quit worrying and just crawl in, please?” Rangi did her best to pat the bed beside her, wincing horribly. “I’ve suffered worse.”

“Mmm, what a terrible fate,” Kyoshi grinned, finally allowing herself to gingerly lie down beside Rangi. “Sleeping next to Kyoshi. What an awful - hey!”

Rangi had elbowed her in the ribs. She tried to laugh, but it barely masked the tremor behind it.

“Stop hurting yourself,” Kyoshi hissed, laying an angry kiss on the Firebender’s cheek. “I mean it.”

In response, Rangi moved to curl up closer against Kyoshi’s chest, her eyes falling shut again. For a long while, they stayed just like that - Rangi in too much pain to move and Kyoshi too nervous about causing her any more. It felt awfully reminiscent of the first time they’d shared a bed, with Kyoshi awake all night inhaling the smell of Rangi’s hair against her lips.

Kyoshi had vowed to protect her then, and she still wanted to protect her now. She didn’t miss the way Rangi’s face screwed up as she slept, sleep inhibiting her ability to hide the discomfort. A couple of times, Atuat came to check on her. She clicked her teeth together at the sight of Kyoshi in the bed, but didn’t seem altogether surprised. The doctor didn’t force her away either, something for which Kyoshi was eternally grateful.

In the blue-grey hours of the morning, Kyoshi finally succumbed to the heaviness in her eyelids - letting them shut as her head fell back against the headboard - at last, too tired to worry about any new dangers coming for them that night.

-----

💖  that’s all for now :) i might post a little more soon! i’m very excited to get this up on ao3 in the near future!

💖 if you enjoy my writing and want to commission me, send me a message! my commissions are open! 

💖 keep an eye out for more commissioned pieces coming soon :) 

[witches-in-caravans]

My thoughts on a commonly used term when discussing kids cartoons.

One thing that often frustrates me about the argument "it's a kids show" when discussing the contents of a children show is that they don't think about why that term exists. Most kids shows back then got a somewhat fair amount of slack on criticism for a reason. A lot of it was because of the shows goals on what it wanted to be in service of.

Shows in the 80s had the purpose of action and fun, simple characters in order to sell merchandise (transformers, mlp g1). More shows back in the 90s/early 2000s had the goal on making its audience laugh or entertain if anything. Shows like dexters lab, Kim possible, spongebob or my life as a teenage robot were selling themselves on their gags or action rather than complex themes or drama. It might be fun to joke that spongebob was about communism and workers rights and shit, but we know that wasn't the creators or writers goals. So audiences tend to be gentler on criticism. And it's not like people never critic anything these shows produce. A lot of shows here dabbled or even went hogwild with homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic and sometimes even racist jokes.

If there were shows to teach lessons, they were relatively simple like ("sharing is a good thing", "don't make fun of children with 'weird habits'", ect..) in shows like Recess or Hey Arnold. Even then a lot of the "lesson" shows were set in world's with very low stakes, which was the real world in 90% of them. Many of the more dramatic kids shows weren't really high stakes, big action pieces. They were mostly mellow if anything. And they did get criticised as well.

This was probably what made avatar the last airbender so unforgettable to its young audience. It mainly had the premise and characters of your typical Saturday kids action series. Protagonist with a superpower, lots of fighting, a team of underdog kids fighting a big bad empire. It's premise was pretty trite and already flooded the cartoon market. But it was special at the time for exploring topics such as war, trauma and abuse in a way that was fun, respectful and most of all, easy for a younger audience to understand without being too overbearing with the topic. What made avatar work well for itself is that it treated the severity of most of these topics differently than the simple lesson programs at the time. Forgiving the person who personally bullied you in 1st grade is not the same as forgiving the man who caused you to see your mothers murdered corpse actually!!! The writers in avatar realised that if your gonna explore these kinds of themes in a world with larger stakes which include severe child abuse, war, trauma and mass genocide, you can't treat the people causing this as some cartoonist henchman or shitty little kid in the playground. You can give some of these characters sympathetic moments or explain the circumstances of how they were like this (azula, zuko), but you can't forget about what happened. At least you can't immediately as soon as they become the "good guy". Sadly the writers in atla seem to forget a lot of this information judging by their other shows such as lok or the dragon Prince.

I mention all this to explain why the "it's a kids show" doesn't apply as well to certain modern kids shows. Some of these shows are trying to cover pretty heavy topics such as abuse, imperialism and coloniasm, war, human experimentation and a whole list of rather dark concepts. And more so they are trying to teach lessons about them. But the creators want to have a "dark, angsty scene where the characters cry at the hands/actions of their colonizers/abusers" scene, but they don't want to actually think about how these atrocities affect the decision making of our horribly traumatised protagonists. Or how it would affect their feelings towards the antagonist. Writers usually only care about how the villain is going to get their redemption arc. And it's not like its inheritably bad that you give your antagonist a redemption story (though there's a limit to how far you can go depending on what they did). But when you give your antagonist 2 hours screentime about whatever angsty backstory you slapped onto them, and then you either completely ignore the pain and psychological state of your protagonists friends and even harshly criticise them for being angry and unforgiving at the antagonist for the miniscule actions of... Psychological or physical torture of you or loved ones, repeated attempted murder, mass genocide.... What I'm trying to say is that your message of empathising with the people around you falls a little flat in its face.

Subject matter and tone will heavily change how your audience perceives your theme.

This is why nobody complained about Dr Doofenshmirtz' rehabilitation. He was in a pure comedy show mainly focused on humour in which his eeevvviiiilllll plans includes ludicrous shit like ridding the world of mustaches cause he can't grow one. Absurd stuff. He ain't ozai or even azula. He didn't genocide a race of people, mutilate his kid and waged war against the world. He didn't travel around universes, pillaging cities or attempted to destroy the whole universe cause they were mad at one person. Stuff like that changes audience perception. He was so harmless for that his "arch nemises" often took his sweet time stopping and even indulged his ridiculous schemes.

This is why I don't criticise shows like she ra the same way I criticise kids programs like miraculous ladybug or the fucking winx club. The winx club has the rare emotional scene, but it's mostly a show about 6 fairy friends defeating a dully coloured comic book supervillain. It's conflicts are mostly simple and straightforward and it's purpose is to entertain children (and sell cheaply made plastic dolls). She ra as shown in its tone within the cartoon and by the creators intentions on twitter is different. It's clearly trying hard to explore themes of child abuse, war and imperialism. Its the font line topic of the show. And when exploring heavy themes such as this for a audience of children, you have to be careful. Because handling them poorly might have a chance of sending a wrong or muddled message to kids.

This is why the term "it's a kids show" isn't universal.

[archived-mononokeland]

ask : Okay so I really like your LeviXhanahaki!reader one shot, I was wondering if there was any chance of your writing a follow up of maybe Levi finding out after MC has passed away.

ack - so i planned to post this along with the other ending version, but i figured it’s long overdue at this point and i should go with what i have!

warning: major angst, death, blood, hanahaki

“ too late  “

It’s been centuries.

Well—it hasn’t, but that was what Levi felt like. He knows it’s maybe been a month, maybe two, but every second felt excruciating.

You weren’t joining the next exchange program. That much was found out when Diavolo called a meeting, saying that you declined his offer. He didn’t say that it was because you tore his letter and threw it away, but the concluded version was that you just would not come for another year.

Of course, it was met by questions and heartbroken glances between the brothers, but with time, they respected your wishes. No matter what it was, they’d come to terms with it. Besides, it’s not as if they���re not allowed to stay in contact with you.

Except for one.

The amount of anxiety that crushed Levi was astronomical when each time you left him on read. Well, that wasn’t that often, but you never did that before! Even so, your answers always came late, with a reply that. . .seem to lack your familiar flare.

The thoughts that came with him being the Avatar of Envy came, stronger now. And each time, he reminded himself that hey, you have a life of your own in the human world (but perhaps that was a tamer form of his spiraling mind).

Until you became more and more off.

Not only him, your response spread to each brother. Such topic was only brought up when they mentioned the differences in your texts during a groupchat talk. You’ve declined every phone call they made (well, more of that you let the phone ring and never pick up, despite you being online, but same thing), which was understandable to some.

Each thought it was an individual thing, and it wasn’t.

It has been brought to you for questioning, yes. They had their own talk of, “Hey, human, are you okay?” And even then, your answer would be a, “yeah, sorry, i just feel tired ^^;;”

Whether they bought it or not, is unknown to you. You hope they do, anyway.

Each day dragged on for the third-brother of them all. He knew he’d miss the human, they were his true friend after all, but. . .this feeling wasn’t one he liked. At all. In fact, he despised it to his very core. But why was he feeling like this for a normie. . .?

It didn’t matter, he thought as he turned off his D.D.D. Another text of his left on read. . .he hoped you were okay.

[ ✿ ]

 You hate it, you despise it. Each day is harder, increasing in the amount of petals—hell, fully bloomed flowers appeared a lot more often—thrown out. You thought it’d decrease since your departure from Devildom, but unfortunately, it seems to be the opposite. You don’t know what it is, shouldn’t the effects be lessened once you’re not in the vicinity of the other party?

Or maybe it was the factor that he was a demon, and you were a human. The situation of a human getting Hanahaki from a creature of hell was very likely to not be documented in any books you’ve read.

Still, even so, you were going to die in the near future. The flowers tell you as much.

They were enough to make a bouquet, you notice. All the ones you’ve spat out were in perfect condition (minus the spit and blood), no tears at the petals, even, in some cases, the stamen and carpels seemed as if untouched, and not forced out your throat. And as a result, you’ve began to collect them and put them in pots you found around the house. Whether you’d like to admit it or otherwise, it was one of the only moments you left your room.

Each type of flower, you fitted in different pots and vases. The most prominent ones that you remember were hyacinths (purple, to be exact), gardenias, marigolds, and yarrows. You keep the other, lesser flowers, all huddled in one big vase. Perhaps they’ll be the secret pieces to your tragedy.

You wonder how long they’ll last after you die.

Such a waste of beauty, you ponder, gently plucking a gardenia from the rest. The white petal flutters as you twirl it aimlessly. The white canvas once red, now back to its purest colors, until it will inevitably wilt away.

The sound of a knock flooded you ears, breaking down your thoughts and pulling you back to earth. You shoved the flower back to its place and hurried up to the door. Who could it be? You haven’t had a visitor in a while now.

Whoever came to mind while you made your way, it certainly wasn’t correct. Instead, you were greeted with a tuft of white hair that you didn’t exactly expect at all. “Solomon!” Your surprise was very much evident both in your voice, and facial expression, “It’s. . .nice to see you here.”

“Hello,” he greets you with an easy smile of his own, “It’s quite the surprise visit, isn’t it? I apologize for that.”

“It’s fine, really!” You force a laugh, sounding a lot hoarse than you thought it would. Even so, “Please, come in!”

You ushered him inside and you close the door behind you. The sight of him looking around your abode doesn’t escape your gaze, it just leaves you a bit flustered, “I’m so sorry it isn’t. . .that presentable, I wasn’t expecting a guest. I can go make some tea, or anything.”

“It’s fine, really.” He gives you yet another small smile, but it quickly turns into a rather sympathetic gaze. He’s noticed your weary expression, your tired tone. “But I think you should go grab a drink for yourself.”

“. . .Yeah, I will. The living room’s down the hall, make yourself at home.”

You don’t raise an objection—the two of you know how much you need it. Well, more you than him, but that’s to be expected.

You get yourself a glass of water, and the cold water punches at your sore throat. A choked up feeling remains, but it’s been there for a while, and you pay no mind to it. You just hope you don’t start coughing up near your guest.

You push any thoughts left to the back of your mind and leave your kitchen. You arrive at your living room to find Solomon situating himself on your couch comfortably. You do the same across from him, “So, Solomon, I thought you were going back for a next year in the program?”

“Likewise to you,” his words left a cold metal press against your body, “but I told Diavolo I’d join next year.”

“I see.”

“And I was surprised when I heard you weren’t coming also. I thought you would’ve been ecstatic to go back.” His eyebrows arched at you, his head tilting slightly.

A sigh, “Well, yes, but—“ your eyes involuntarily glance at a vase positioned near a window, filled with the flowers from your lungs, “. . .it’s complicated.”

A silence hung itself in the air for a good few while, until the other hummed. “I see.” A mumble, nearly inaudible as his lips barely parted. And the silence continued. He’s staring at you, you feel it, and you refuse to stare back.

A cough threatens to break itself out from you. You beg for it to have mercy, please, just for now.

And a plead never stops a tragedy. Even if you fall to your knees, and beg and beg and beg, the scythe will strike you either way. Because, does Death hesitate when it sees someone in such a state? To not rip open the wound, for the reason that it’s time for the wound to be seen?

In the end, blood and secrets spill like a broken mess.

“You’re going to die, aren’t you?”

His question was a whisper, leaving your body cold and alone. Your eyes, while not even looking at him, wavered and roamed. Another flower blooms.

“. . .How. . .?” And, such is the only thing you could say. The petals inside you stroke your organs, and air feels impossible. Shocked, you are, and the world crashes down all at once.

Solomon’s gaze doesn’t give away the answer. And it looks like his lips won’t either; at least not a clear one. “. . .I have my ways.”

A fond smile touches your lips, now tracing over your eyes. “S. . Shady-ass.” Slowly, the world becomes fuzzy dots and continuously blurry. The wound you’ve so desperately tried to stitch close is ripping away, thread by thread. Another flower blooms.

“. . .And you haven’t told them, have you?”

Another question, and another stab to your soul. The wound is third-fourth of spilling its stained secrets, all in courtesy of you. “. . .Is this the purpose of your visit?” The world fades in and out, clear then muddy— “You’re. . .cruel, y’know?” Another flower blooms.

And not a word comes from him next. The silence was enough to rip at your open gash.

The world fades out of your vision as the flowers spill, coughing and clawing its way out of your throat. You don’t feel your body collapsing to the floor, your knees giving up on you, your body writhing itself to keep a stance. You don’t feel the widened gaze Solomon has on you.

Your focus is on your pain; and it slowly becomes your world. The blood that’s spilt, the scratches denting your lungs, the flood of colors sprayed mercilessly, the tears holding no stops or ends as it mixes with the others.

For a moment, you wonder if your blood and spit and tears are the only thing the flowers’ve felt.

[ ✿ ]

“I don’t get it! I know they’ve left me on read for a long time now, but they don’t even come online anymore!”

Levi’s exasperated words fill through the room without a problem. The other brothers in the room would’ve told him to calm down, had they not been on the same level of worry as he was. After all, it wasn’t only him that noticed you’ve not came online and even read any messages they sent for what—a week now?

They’ve all tried to contact you through various means, from the surface leveled texts and phone calls, to even using your pact to send messages by igniting your nerves through pain or the sorts.

None of them worked.

“Please, Lucifer, you have to let someone go up and check on them! Anyone!” Levi’s pleads added the weight of the burden said brother felt on his shoulders. He, too, felt the strong urge to go up and see you, but workload has inconveniently increased against his favors.

Even so, Lucifer sent no reply to his brother and looked away with a hesitant and equally pained gaze. However, after so many requests from his brothers, all those he shared, he relented, “. . .I will talk to Lord Diavolo about this.”

Glances were exchanged between all seven demons, and Levi huffed, sitting up from his chair in the dining room. The rest watched as he stormed into the hallway, and most likely, into his room.

Immediately, he made a beeline to his chair, throwing his body onto it and opening his D.D.D. as if it were a reflex. With his other hand, he reached to his mouse and logged onto something on his computer, not even bothering to spare a look. His fingers tap away into his Chats, and into yours and his. A week you’ve been gone.

His other hand glided away from his mouse, and onto his pact mark, situated on the left side of his stomach. A small wave of magic flows, and reaching to said mark, trying to fish out a response. Nothing. Not a pulse, not a shock, not anything to tell him you were there.

He’d try, and try, and try. But no answer came.

A buzz from his D.D.D. prevents his thoughts from spiraling. The brothers’ groupchat had a notification. His eyes lingered momentarily to the clock at the corner of his device, half an hour has already passed. Was it really that long he spent. . .? But the question was disregarded as he checked who it was.

Lucifer: I’ve talked with Lord Diavolo.

His heart leaps, and so does his anxiety.

Lucifer: He’s been worried as well, and so, one of you is permitted to go.

And with that one message, everyone started typing up at once, like a fire. Levi didn’t falter behind.

Leviathan: I’ll go.

And after it was sent, his thoughts melted to a puddle. All the texts that came after, most likely all the others wanting to go, became muddled visions to him. He can’t feel his arms, his legs, and lastly, the way his heart churns and squeezes so tightly in him.

It hurts, but reality pulled him back.

Levi blinked once, twice, then refocused on the screen bellow him. The words in the white box said by Lucifer shocked him, but sent a slight wave of relief, and also a shaking anxiety.

Lucifer: You’ll be going then, Levi.

Hurriedly, his trembling fingers struggle to get a response. A whirlwind spawns inside his heart and mind.

Leviathan: Huh?!

Leviathan: Uhm, when?

He considered asking why, but he didn’t want the decision to be backtracked.

Lucifer: You may go to the castle now to be transported.

And with that, Leviathan hurries out.

   He doesn’t pay attention to what the Demon King in front of him say. Nor does he at the beatings of his own heart. Only a nod, and an occasional hum, and the portal flickers in front of him.

A portal to you.

He takes fast steps to the glimmering light, and his body warps to another world around him.

Despite wearing casual human clothes, his hand still wanders and threads over the pact mark hidden underneath the fabrics. Once again, magic flows from his fingertips, and his legs carry him where it leads to. You, hopefully.

He reaches a house. His magic says you’re here, but you yourself say you aren’t here. Instead of a solid presence around him, you were more of dust, sprinkling the air with a sense of. . .cold.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

His steps pick up as he walks to the door, and knocks. Silence, for a few, and then it opens, revealing someone—someone that isn’t you.

“Excuse me, sir, who are you?” It was a woman, mid-thirty’s he took a guess. Her tone was soft, ever so slightly broken, and her gaze was such as well.

“Uhm—“ A choked up feeling made itself home in Levi’s throat so suddenly. He wavered in every parts of his body, “I was. . .wondering if there’s someone named. . .”

He utters your name, gentle with such fragility. A looming hesitance and fear was evident as well, so none of his tone was positive by any means. The woman in front of him tensed, and gave a look of heart break.

No, it can’t be. It just can’t—

“. . .It’s. . .very unfortunate of me to say this, but. . .”

No, no no—

“. . .they’ve passed away.”

  His world broke.

Sentences came after that. Leviathan knew, he just wouldn’t acknowledge. A sharp, excruciating pain imbedded deep in his heart, his mind, his body—his pact mark shattered, and so did he.

Even so, he reached—reached deeply inside of the shards of the broken him to utter out a sentence, and stay stable, if for a moment.

“. . .How. . . d-did—“

He cut himself off. He can’t go any further, he just can’t. Fortunately, the lady picked up and answered.

“. . .It’s from a rare disease.” Her voice was wavering, hesitant, but it was an answer nonetheless, “Hanahaki. A person sprouts flowers from their lungs due to unrequited love and it slowly kills them.”

She didn’t want to say any further, and he didn’t want to hear any further.

His legs were numb, his body hurt to exist, his heart ached to keep beating. A thud sounded as his knees collided with the concrete—his feet didn’t work. None of his. . .anything, did. The screams of agony were a vocalization of his tears, his pain. A hand clutched the mark—your mark—and a cold darkness bit back.

His hand would bleed, but he wouldn’t care. You were dead. You were dead you were dead you were dead you were—

Could he have stopped this? Maybe, if he wasn’t so ignorant, and checked up on you like an actual friend would—could he have stopped this? Maybe, maybe, you’d be there by his side, smiling cheekily and exclaiming it was a joke—or a nightmare, just—anything but reality.

Were you hurting? No, of course you were. And not uttering a word, to anyone, to him?

And for a moment, he wonders if your tears and blood were the only thing you felt when you died.

[fanimesenseiwrites]

Another two parter because I just really love starting new lines and Tumblr can't stand it. But yeah, this addresses all the shit Mammon gets from his brothers because it really bugs me. NGL, I was inspired by the Devilgram story "One too many insults." Not in this part, but this story will feature eventual sexy times with a sort of trigger... (not me using my writing to deal with my issues again!)

Mammon's Lament

Hoshiko was in their apartment, studying a spell book when they got a text from Mammon.

-Hey, can you talk?-

Hoshiko looked at the message and grinned before replying.

-Yeah, you miss me?-

-I just really need to hear your voice right now-

Hoshiko frowned at the message; that didn't sound like Mammon. They called him immediately.

He answered almost immediately. "Hey Hoshiko," it was Mammon's voice but he sounded almost melancholy.

Hoshiko's frown deepened. "Hey honey, what's wrong?" They put a bookmark in the book and closed it.

"I just really wish I could see you right now."

Hoshiko didn't like the sound of his tone, they were growing increasingly worried by the second. "I'd love to see you too, I'll summon you if you tell me what's wrong."

"I... I'd rather not."

"Please? I'm worried. Just tell me what's wrong and then I'll summon you," Hoshiko tried to compromise.

He groaned. "I don't want to be near my brothers, okay?"

"I'm sorry but, that doesn't sound like anything new," Hoshiko told him, still trying to sound supportive.

"Just summon me and then I'll tell you the rest," he tried to bargain.

Hoshiko sighed. "Okay fine. Grab onto anything you wanna bring with you and give me a minute."

"Thank you," he told them before hanging up.

Hoshiko frowned and got up from where they were sitting on the couch. They walked over to their purse and pulled out their keys and held the keychain that Mammon gave them. Hoshiko ran their thumb over the keychain and briefly reminisced over the time that they got the keychains before kissing it, then speaking an incantation. "Hear me, denizens of the darkness. You who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command. I, Hoshiko Higure, call upon you to send forth one of your number, one whom I have made a pact with. I call forth, the Avatar of Greed, Mammon!"

A circle of light appeared on the floor and a humanoid silhouette slowly materialized within the circle.

Hoshiko smiled wide as they watched the process unfold before them.

The light faded and Mammon was left standing there holding his toothbrush and DDD charger.

Hoshiko smiled at him. "Hey Mammon."

Mammon looked at Hoshiko and smiled slightly before walking over to them and hugging them tightly.

Hoshiko found it unusual that he didn't say anything, but just hugged back. "Guess what."

"What?" He asked, still holding onto them.

"You're the first out of all of y'all that I've successfully summoned," they sang, actually really excited despite the circumstances.

Mammon pulled away just enough to look at them. "So you're saying that I'm another one of your firsts?" He asked with a grin.

Hoshiko nodded, feeling relief at seeing his usual shit-eating grin. "Yes, I am."

Mammon just hugged Hoshiko again, even tighter this time.

They rubbed his back. "... Will you tell me what's wrong now?"

Mammon sighed and dropped his head onto their shoulder.

Hoshiko ran a hand up his back and into his hair. "Do you want me to make you some tea? I can do that while you talk. Or we can just lay in bed and I'll hold you while you talk. But you gotta talk to me, I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

Mammon sighed and pulled away from them to go sit on the couch. He set his things down on the side table. "I dunno if you can help..."

Hoshiko frowned and followed him. They sat down far enough away from him so that they could easily pull him down to lay his head in their lap. Hoshiko knew it was his favorite position when he was feeling down, but they also knew he wouldn't ask for it, so they just did it.

Mammon allowed himself to be moved and just looked up at Hoshiko once his head was in their lap.

Hoshiko stroked his hair and pulled off his sunglasses. "Will you please talk to me now? I'm worried," they pleaded.

Mammon sighed and looked away from them. "I'm just sick of bein' called an idiot."

Hoshiko frowned. "Is Lucifer in a mood?"

Mammon snapped his head to them. "Hell! I wish it was just Lucifer! It's all of 'em!"

Hoshiko frowned and scratched his scalp, hoping to get him to calm down.

"Its always "You're an idiot" or "a scumbag" and even when I am trying to do right I don't get any recognition for it! I get no respect! I'm the second oldest, the second strongest..."

Hoshiko would've sworn that they physically felt their heart break. They knew the brothers could gang up on Mammon, but they didn't know that it got to him that bad.

"I don't wanna be feared like Lucifer or nothin', I just... I want them to treat me like I'm their brother..." Mammon looked away from Hoshiko, a soft blush on his cheeks.

Hoshiko had to will themself not to cry. "Oh..." They racked their brain for anything they could say to make him feel better. "Ya know, it always bothered me that you're the only one who got no kind of understanding for your sin."

Mammon looked back at Hoshiko.

"I know you all tease each other, but like... Asmo doesn't get strung up in the stairwell for going out and having a bunch of sex."

Mammon appeared to think about what they said. "Yeah... You're right!"

Hoshiko chuckled. "I know I am."

Mammon sat up and turned to look at Hoshiko. "And I don't ever lose control to the point of changing forms like Beel or Satan!"

Hoshiko nodded. "You're right. So how about you just stay here for a couple days, let your brothers worry a little and then by the time you go back down they should be nicer."

Mammon grinned, but it quickly faded. "Can't I just stay here forever?" He asked, his voice small.

Hoshiko blushed, they weren't necessarily opposed to the idea but they knew they had to be realistic too. "You know, Lucifer will come looking for you eventually."

"Then why don't we just see how long it takes Lucifer to find me?" Mammon asked, a mischievous grin growing on his face.

Hoshiko chuckled but shook their head. "No, just a few days. The longer we wait the more likely we're to be in trouble with Lucifer."

Mammon groaned. "Fiiinnneee...."

"How about we go shopping and I'll get you some more clothes for your stay here?"

Mammon immediately perked up. "I like the sound of that."

Hoshiko grinned. "I thought you might." They stood up and stretched; they looked down at their pajamas then back at Mammon. "Lemme change and then we'll go."

Mammon gave them a once over. "Oh, yeah."

Hoshiko chuckled. "Did you just notice that I'm still wearing pajamas?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot..."

Hoshiko frowned and walked over and grabbed his face and made him look at them. "You're not an idiot. Sometimes we don't notice little things, especially when we're upset and focused on something particular. That doesn't make us stupid. It just means we're people, with thoughts and feelings. Having magical powers doesn't make us infallible."

Mammon just stared into Hoshiko's eyes.

Hoshiko blushed. They tried to decipher the look in Mammon's eyes, hoping to figure out how he felt, praying that they hadn't said something they shouldn't have. "Mammon?"

He pulled his face out of their hands, a blush staining his cheeks. "Thanks... go change."

Hoshiko just nodded and went to their bedroom and closed the door behind them.

Hoshiko couldn't get the look in Mammon's eyes out of their head as they got dressed. Had they embarrassed him? They were just trying to make him to feel better, he deserved to really feel good about himself. 

Hoshiko got dressed in some leggings, an oversized sweater and some over the knee boots before walking back out into the living room.

Mammon was up and looking at the pictures of Hoshiko and Asmo that were framed and hanging up. He looked at Hoshiko when they walked out. "Why do you only have pictures of you and Asmo up?" He asked with a pout.

"Those are the pictures we took together so he could give me something dear so that I could summon him."

Mammon nodded and looked back at the pictures.

Hoshiko walked over to him. "And the picture of the stars is Beel and Belphie's stars."

"They gave you their stars? Really?"

Mammon chuckled. "So... where's what I gave you?"

Hoshiko nodded then pointed to the framed script. "Levi gave me his script of 'With Me' that Simeon signed."

Hoshiko then pulled an old, leather bound book off the bookshelf. "Satan gave me the book that made him and Lucifer switch bodies, all the magic has faded from it now."

Hoshiko picked up their keys and shook them so that they jingled. "It comes with me everywhere I go."

Mammon grinned wide. "So I'm always with you?"

Hoshiko nodded. "You and Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" Mammon asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hoshiko held up their hand and showed him the ring of light. "Kinda can't take it off... unless we want the three realms to descend into chaos that is." They chuckled nervously.

Mammon nodded.

Hoshiko fidgeted with their hands, feeling awkward now. "So... ready to go to the mall?"

Mammon perked up. "Yes!"

Hoshiko smiled and grabbed their purse. "Come on, let's go."

They left the apartment together and took an Uber to the mall.

"That Uber thing is pretty cool," Mammon commented as they walked into the mall, hands in his pockets. "A lot easier than hailing a cab."

"And cheaper!" Hoshiko chimed.

Mammon grinned. "That's always good." He looked around the mall. "So, where to first?"

"I'm thinking Abercrombie and Fitch is good a spot for your style and my price point."

Mammon chuckled. "Sounds good, lead the way."

Hoshiko hooked their arm through his and led them through the mall.

Mammon grinned, more than happy to have Hoshiko on his arm.

As they shopped, Mammon seemed to turn back to his normal self more and more.

Hoshiko felt a lot better as Mammon's spirits lifted.

"Are you having fun?" Hoshiko asked him.

"I'm always having fun when I don't have to pay for stuff," he told them with a grin.

Hoshiko snorted but grinned. "Of course." The metaphysical store caught their eye from across the way. "Let's get you some demonius to have with dinner." They headed toward the metaphysical store.

Mammon raised an eyebrow as he followed them. "Uh, that's just one of those hokey chakra stores not a real magic store."

Hoshiko grinned at him. "Just follow me."

When they walked in, Hoshiko waved at the girl at the counter. "Hey Selene, we're going in the back."

Selene smiled at Hoshiko but eyed Mammon suspiciously.

Hoshiko grinned. "Selene, this is Mammon. Mammon, Selene; she's a witch."

Selene's eyebrows shot up at Mammon's name. "/The/ Mammon?" She asked with a grin.

Mammon grinned at Selene. "In the flesh!"

"Wow, I never thought I'd meet one of the seven rulers of hell."

Hoshiko made a face. "Selene, I have pacts with all of them. I was bound to bring one of them in here at some point."

"Yeah, but with my luck I thought it would've been on my off day."

Hoshiko chuckled and shook their head. "Like I said, we're going in the back."

Selene nodded. "Okay! It was nice to meet you Mammon ~"

Mammon grinned at her. "Always good to meet a fan."

Hoshiko rolled their eyes and pulled Mammon into the back room. They held their hand out parallel to their chest and a magical circle appeared around their hand. Hoshiko turned their hand to the right and a glamour barrier parted, revealing a lounge and a counter where true magical items could be bought.

Mammon grinned at Hoshiko. "That's pretty cool."

Hoshiko smiled wide and motioned for him to walk in.

Mammon walked in and Hoshiko followed him, resetting the barrier once they were both inside.

Mammon looked around briefly before plopping down on one of the couches.

Hoshiko shook their head and headed straight to the counter. "Hey Camille," Hoshiko greeted the girl behind the counter.

Camille smiled at Hoshiko. "Did you bring in who I think you brought in?" She asked with a grin.

Hoshiko chuckled. "Yeah. The Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed."

"Is he just... here, or are you doing something...?"

Hoshiko raised an eyebrow, suspicious of her attempt at a question. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Like... are you two doing a ritual or something?"

"Uh, no. We're just hanging out. We're actually friends. I will say, having a pact makes it convenient to see each other though."

Camille nodded. "I bet. So what did you come in here for?"

"Some demonius, a phoenix feather, and..." she eyed the pre-made potions on the back shelf.

Camille watched them briefly before grabbing a small vial full of a shimmery purple liquid and setting it down in front of Hoshiko. "This is the one you want," she told them with a smirk.

"How do you know what I want?"

"Because demons can and have gotten humans pregnant, and it's not fun, especially if it's not expected."

Hoshiko felt their face get hot. "T- that's not-!" They tried to protest but they couldn't quite find the words.

"Oh wait, I know you're genderfluid but I thought you had female bits, am I wrong?" Camille asked, suddenly embarrassed.

Hoshiko shook their head. "No, you're right..." They were even more embarrassed than Camille.

Camille breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. But seriously, you want this one," she reiterated as she tapped the top of the bottle.

Hoshiko made a face. "I dunno..."

"How about you take this one for free, as a trial sample?" She asked but she still put it in a bag along with the other things Hoshiko had asked for.

Hoshiko sighed, still red in the face. "Fine." They had just handed their credit card off to Camille when they felt Mammon's demonic aura flare up behind them. Hoshiko whipped around, suddenly fearful that they had missed some attack, but that feeling quickly changed to some awful mix of anger and jealousy when they saw Mammon flaunting his demon form for a gaggle of witches who had gathered around him while their back was turned.

"I'm gonna kill him," Hoshiko muttered under their breath before marching over to him and grabbing one of his wings.

Mammon growled and whipped around to see who dared to touch him.

You could tell who the experienced witches were by the ones who didn't flinch at his show of aggression.

Hoshiko stood their ground and glared at him.

Mammon's face immediately softened when he saw that it was Hoshiko. "Oh, hey... why'ya pullin' on me?"

Hoshiko just stared at him for a moment, trying to decide on what to say. "Change back," they demanded, their voice eerily calm. "We're leaving."

"Oh, we're done shopping?" He asked, mildly oblivious to their change in demeanor.

"Yes," they responded as they took their card and bag from Camille. 

"Oh okay." He changed back to his human form.

Hoshiko walked over and parted the barrier so they could leave.

Mammon headed out.

"Bye Mammon~" a few of the witches called after him.

Mammon turned back to smile and wave at them. "Bye!"

"Oh my god, let's just go," Hoshiko nagged.

Mammon looked at them. "Yeah, yeah. I'm going." He walked out.

Hoshiko followed him out, resetting the barrier as they left.

Hoshiko was absolutely silent until they got back to the apartment; a deadly aura seemed to emanate from them.

Mammon, who had felt death auras many a times, didn't try to talk to Hoshiko until they got back into the apartment.

Part 1, 2, 3

[jessiewritesthings]

Saudade - Pt. II

Prince Zuko x Reader

Hiiiiiiiiii!! I done made myself even sadder and i’m not sorry about it! Thank you all for reading you are all my children and I love you dearly xx

Part I - Part III - Epilogue

The Crystal Catacombs were cool and damp, with the strange green hue almost making you feel queasy. Your hands were extended out in front of Prince Zuko’s face, fingers just inches away from him. They quivered in hesitation, before Zuko, trepidation evident in his gaze, leaned closer to you. His hands reached for yours, softly pulling you closer and placing your palm on his cheek. Your fingers grazed his scar, and you were pleasantly surprised at the warmth that seeped from his skin. It had never occurred to you that Firebenders would be able to keep themselves warm at all times, even though it made perfect sense. Zuko closed his eyes at your touch, and your fingers gently traipsed over the map of his scar, brushing dark strands of hair from his forehead.

No one had ever touched him like this before – gently, delicately, as if he were made of precious porcelain. Only his mother had ever held him so carefully, and the vicious taunts from his father and sister had forced Zuko to grow out of that earlier than he would have liked. It made him feel safe and secure, and as he took a deep breath in he imagined a world where there was no Hundred Year War – no Fire Lord, no Azula, no hunting the Avatar to regain his honour – just the two of you, spending an eternity in soft gazes and caresses.

Smiling softly, you raised your other hand to cup the right side of his face, running your thumb over his cheek. He looked at you now, amber eyes piercing through yours as a surge of breathlessness ran through your body, halting your breath at your lips.

 Bowing his head towards the ground, Zuko exhaled, his shaggy hair drooping to cover his face. Your hands, now resting on his folded knees, were clammy, and you couldn’t prevent the occasional twitch of your fingers as you willed yourself to remain calm.

 “I-I don’t understand.” His voice was tight, as if he was being held together by a set of strings neither of you could see. Zuko watched you through wisps of his hair as you bent your head closer to his, foreheads almost touching. Your grip on his knee tightened, giving it a quick squeeze to encourage him.

 “How you can bear to touch it,” he whispered, hoarsely. You pressed your forehead to his now, moving your hands to the back of his head, running your fingers through his thick hair. You felt shattered, unable to fully fathom the pain that Prince Zuko had been through. His lineage and place as Prince of the Fire Nation aside, who would be so cruel, so full of hatred for another, that damage like this could be caused? The way his scar draped across his face, curving from the edge of his nose through to his left ear – it was entirely obvious that this was a deliberate attack, which made it all the worse. As if the culprit had held a ball of fire in their hand and held it to Zuko’s face, ensuring the damage would be a permanent marker, something that would distinguish him forever. A burnt, scarred, Firebender – what sort of message did that send?

 Zuko was allowing his vulnerability to completely fall away with you, allowing you to come inside and open all of his locked doors and inspect all of the cobwebs. His heart was pounding, thick and heavy and in his throat. The feel of your fingers in his hair, on his skin – he knew in that moment that nothing would ever compare, shuddering as your nails lightly scratched his scalp. A soft moan escaped him, and his cheeks roared in red. He could feel your questions, unspoken, but hanging limply in the air. His head still bowed and your fingers still twisting through his hair he attempted to explain the red mark on his skin.

 “I… disrespected someone I shouldn’t have. My punishment was to duel… an Agni Kai.”

 Pulling away, your hands returned to Zuko’s knees. You watched him intently, his hands forming fists on top of yours.

 “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Everyone knew I wasn’t the best bender. It is punishment, for my betrayal,” he continued. His left hand reached up to gingerly touch the scar, before he flinched and pulled it away. “I can’t even touch it myself.”

 “You must have been so young, Zuko.”

 “Thirteen,” he replied, lips parted as if in disbelief himself.

 “But surely – you’re the Prince of the Fire Nation – your father-”

 “My father gave it to me, as a parting gift,” Zuko said coldly. Momentarily, the warmth of his body disappeared and a wave of cold, harsh air ebbed through you. Rising on to your knees, you wrapped your arms around Zuko’s shoulders and pulled him closer, cradling his head as he slowly allowed himself to return your embrace. He was stiff and awkward, and you wondered when he had last been embraced like this.

 “You are more than what he makes you to be,” you murmured softly. “You are more than a mark on your skin.” Slowly, the warmth that Zuko radiated returned, just as suddenly as it had vanished. Zuko held you tight, flooded with memories of his mother, and how good it felt to receive true care.

_____

 It had been two months since you’d arrived on Capital Island – or rather, you thought it had. You’d been aptly thrown into a new cell, not entirely different from the one you were holed up in on the ship, except this one was attached to the ground and not floating on the open ocean. The cell walls were made of heavy bricks of stone, with iron bars inside – a cage within a cage. Heat seeped through the atmosphere, a constant sweat coating you.

 When you had first arrived, you’d been dragged to the Caldera, along with Iroh, to pay your respects to Fire Lord Ozai as Azula had instructed. Cold, clammy fear ran through you when you were thrown at his feet, once again falling on your wounded leg. The burn itself was healing, albeit slowly – Azula had permitted the use of water for healing only once more whilst onboard, and the constant presence of guards meant you weren’t able to attempt healing it with your own sweat.

 Fire Lord Ozai had merely glanced at you, face shrivelling in disapproval, before moving on to inspect his older brother. Your heart swelled for Iroh when Ozai raised his hands, angry flame flickering in his palm, convinced he was going to do to his brother what he had to his son.

 It seemed as if Ozai was looking for some sort of retaliation from his brother, but Iroh did not give him the satisfaction, instead merely listening as the Fire Lord declared his brother a traitor to the Fire Nation, before ordering the guards to accompany him to Prison Tower.

 “Let him rot.”

 Ozai returned to his seat on the throne, a quick wave of his hand indicating he was finished, before he halted and stood once again.

 “Wait. Bring the girl back. She can heal, you say?” The Fire Lord looked to his children for confirmation. 

“Yes, father. You see how she has prevented further damage to her burns, with only two healing sessions.” Your brows furrowed as Zuko spoke, his voice raspy. It was confusing, and almost painful, to see him stand with his father – one who had caused him so much pain.

“Show the Fire Lord your wounds, water rat,” Azula sneered.

You rose to your feet, delicately peeling off the fabric you’d used to cover your wound.

“Closer.”

Keeping your eyes on the Fire Lord, you shuffled closer as he had commanded. You were in pain, tired and drained, but you’d be damned if you relented now.

“A mark that will be with you forever. How does it feel to be branded?”

A heated wave ran through you – you couldn’t even be sure if it was your own anger at this point, but you swallowed it down anyway as your eyes met with Ozai’s. Like his son, his were also amber – but there was something that seemed off about them – there was anger and greed and hunger, but he lacked any sort of real human depth.  

“I’ll wear this with pride,” you retorted, a scowl slowly forming on your face. Hatred was all you felt. “My people will revere me. They will tell stories about how I stood against your children.”

Ozai’s eyes widened in shock, orange flames flaring from the palms of his hands. From the corner of your eye you could see Azula and Zuko reacting to your statement – Azula more than happy to wrap more flames around your right leg.

“Brave, aren’t you? You dare enter my nation, my palace, my throne room and insult me!? Tell me girl, which scum of the Northern Water Tribe do you belong to? I’ll be sure to send some… parts their way.” Ozai’s hot breath washed over you as you glared up at him. His black hair flared over his shoulders, stepping closer as he gripped onto your forearm.

“Master Pakku is my grandfather. Your great nation burnt my parents alive before I could even speak.”

The Fire Lord considered your words, his menacing glare doing little to frighten you. Behind his father, Zuko glanced to the floor before returning his gaze to you. Azula looked immensely pleased, and you wondered how she planned to make it through life with everyone fearing her – surely something would go wrong, somewhere. 

“Y/n is a master healer and waterbender. I have no doubt she will prove useful in the coming weeks,” Azula urged, looking at her father with a raised eyebrow. Fire Lord Ozai seemed to think his daughter’s words over, releasing his grip on your arm.

“You may be right, daughter. Send her to the Prison Tower with my brother – in the deepest, driest cell you can find. Don’t remove those chains.”

 _____

Just as Princess Azula had suggested, you had been deemed useful for your healing abilities. Talk of your healing sessions while onboard the ship had spread like wildfire, and you were frequently put to work healing a myriad of different Fire Nation citizens – while under close, careful supervision. Your water supply was limited, and even though you were recuperating well, you knew better than to attempt any sort of escape. Besides, even if you were able to fight the guards, there was nowhere to run.

Sighing, you raked your hands over the iron bars of your cell. You’d spent the last few days in the infirmary, healing various superficial wounds. It was tiring work, and the soldiers always liked to taunt you, as if being grateful for your ability to heal their wound was a concept they couldn’t simply comprehend. Guards always flanked you, and your feet were always in chains. When you’d first arrived, someone had shoved a bundle of clothing into your arms, and you’d been pleased that you’d at least be able to change out of your dirty, damaged Water Tribe clothing. When Azula saw you being traipsed from the Prison Tower to the infirmary for a day’s work, her eyes had gleamed maliciously – how better to break you down than turn you into one of them? At least your scar was hidden from view – that was one small mercy.

Light flooded through your cell as the door opened, two guards entering, one holding a hot flame and the other holding a tray, which held a small bowl of rice.

“Dinner, water rat.”

The bowl was sloppily placed on the ground, in front of the iron bars. You leant forward to retrieve it, before a heavy boot was pressed onto your forearm.

“Not so fast. You’ve got some guests, first.”

The guard removed his foot and you pulled your arm back through the bars, folding your knees and resting your palms on top of them.

Princess Azula entered the cell, followed by her two friends. You’d come across them before, back when Azula had been chasing you all across the world in order to capture Aang. You’d been surprised to find that Azula even had friends – though sure she had it within her to force a friendship if she so desired.

“Ah, my favourite guest,” Azula remarked as she cocked an eyebrow, hands on her hips. 

Behind her, the other girls watched you carefully. One had her black hair fashioned to fall down the sides of her face, with two buns on top of her head. She looked awfully severe, her tawny eyes looking straight  through you. The other girl had large, round brown eyes but they were missing the same, cold look you’d seen in Azula and the girl to her left. Raking over the three of them, your fingers tapped in anticipation. 

“As much as I’d love to make some new friends, I’m rather hungry. How can I help you, Princess?”

Azula snorted, hot smoke coming from her nose. 

“Your negative attitude is not becoming, water rat. This is Mai, and Ty Lee.”

Azula gestured to the girls behind her as Ty Lee stepped forward, next to Azula’s side. 

“Hi! It’s so great to meet you officially! We’ve heard so much about your healing abilities - you’re quite the talk of the Caldera you know,” Ty Lee began excitedly, bouncing up onto the balls of her feet. 

Azula rolled her eyes, seemingly unimpressed with Ty Lee’s enthusiasm. Giving Ty Lee a soft smile in return, you returned your gaze to Azula. Mai stood behind her, completely disinterested in you as she picked at her fingernails, flicking the broken pieces away.

“You’re not here to make friends, Ty Lee. Y/n is still a prisoner of the Fire Nation. And, in any case, we’ve come to inform you of an important… event happening in a few week’s time. I’m sure you’ve heard from your little friends about the upcoming eclipse?”

The atmosphere seemed to freeze around you, goose bumps shivering their way across your body. You opened your mouth to speak, but the air felt thick, too heavy, your brain unable to put the right words into your mouth.

“Bingo.”

Resisting the urge to put your face into your hands and scream, wail and howl in frustration, you calmly looked up at Azula, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

“I’d sooner feel your fire one hundred times than fight for the Fire Nation, if that’s what you’ve got in mind.”

Ty Lee’s brows furrowed in concern, Mai watching you from the corner of her eye as Azula laughed.

“Oh, don’t be so silly! No, you’ll be out there. You are aware of your healing abilities, right? You’ll be right where we need you, healing our loyal soldiers. Of course, it’s unlikely we’ll take any damage – we do know they’re coming, after all.”

Triumph bloomed across Azula’s face as she folded her arms, waiting and hoping for a dramatic reaction from you – but you knew better than to rise to the occasion.

“If that’s what you so desire, Princess Azula,” you responded dryly. Inside, your body was raging, and you craved water like you never had before – to even just smell it, would help to quench the anxiety racing through you.

“Oh, not just me, water rat. Prince Zuko thought you would be an excellent asset for us on the day, as did my father. There’s nothing better than a fun day out with friends, after all.”

At the mention of Zuko, Mai’s gaze finally flicked back to Azula. It was apparent that she had no real interest in what Azula had to say, and merely came along to get a good look at you.

“Speaking of Zuko, can we please go. This is boring, and he’s waiting for us in the palace,” Mai exclaimed, voice low and husky. She wasn’t wrong – she looked entirely bored.

“Zuko can wait!” Azula retorted, her voice rising. “It’s important our little pet knows her place in this. Besides, it’s not like your boyfriend even wants to go on our little vacation. Father has his meetings with his advisors, and precious Zuzu just can’t bear to be left out.”

“Gee, I wonder why. The family dynamics so great and all,” you muttered, though your heart did a quick few somersaults in your chest at the new revelation. Not only was the Fire Lord aware of the invasion, but Zuko – Prince Zuko – was out here dating one of his sister’s best friends.

Before you could blink, Azula had thrust a ball of flame in your face, her stare angry and menacing as she bent closer to you through the bars. The flame caught you off-guard, and you tried to shuffle back, getting tangled in your chains.

“If you don’t watch your mouth, water rat, I’ll give you a mark to match the Prince. It’s a shame for you he likes his women unmarked, otherwise you’d make the perfect pair. Both weak.” Just as quickly as she had pulled out the flame, Azula snatched her hand away, extinguishing it. Her eyes were deranged, almost animalistic. Ty Lee had one hand to her chest, and Mai stood with her arms folded, watching you with a careful expression. With a sharp turn and no goodbyes, the trio left your cell, slamming the door as they departed.

The scar on your leg stung, a phantom burn slowly scalding it. Letting out a deep breath, you sighed, running your hands over your leg. Your body shivered as it remembered the pain from Azula’s blue flame and in an effort to calm yourself you closed your eyes, imagining yourself sitting in a pool of spirit water, your energy being restored. Exhaustion seeped through you as you leant forward, finally able to collect the bowl of rice and eat. A small, tired sob escaped you, and for a very real and confronting moment you realised that perhaps, just maybe, Azula was right. Maybe Aang wasn’t supposed to defeat the Fire Lord – maybe he really was dead. You couldn’t confirm anything from your cage. Another short, sudden burst of sobs fell as you curled into a ball on the cell floor.

_____

A soft creak roused you, as a flickering orange hue seeped into your cell. Without even looking, you could tell that someone had brought you water, and the scent alone was enough to entice you, bringing you to the bars on your knees.

A hooded figure knelt in front of you, face shielded from view. The bowl was placed to their left, hands resting on their lap.

“For me?” you asked, throat hoarse from your previous tears.

“I’m… sorry it’s taken so long.”

“S’fine. I can tell you’re hiding,” a smile evident in your voice. “A real-life master of disguise.”

“Admittedly, not my best work.”

You both laughed, a secret little chime tingling through the air. Placing your hands on the bars, your eyes drifted back to the water bowl and you licked your lips without even realising.

“Can I?”

Another chuckle came from the robe, before the bowl was pushed towards you. “Go ahead.”

Without a second thought your palm reached out, pulling the water into your palm. You felt a release of pressure in your body like nothing you’d ever countered before – this was the longest you’d gone without being able to use your bending, and it had felt like you were missing not just one limb, but all of them. Crossing your legs, you straightened your back and pushed the water above your head before opening your palm and letting the water cascade over you like rain drops. A soft breath turned the water to ice, and you revelled in the cooling sensation. With a flick of your wrist, you sent the water to softly drizzle over your robed guest, laughing as they flinched but relented anyway. You continued to focus on the cascade of water, slowly turning into snowflakes as you recalled your last evening at home in Agna Qel’a.

“Why have you brought me this, Zuko?”

Sending a flurry of snowflakes at him, the hood fell back, confirming what you had already known. Zuko’s neck flushed a hot red, his pulse quickening. He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer your question – what exactly had brought him here? Other than that annoying, nagging feeling he’d had since you’d been thrown in here, his interaction with Azula after she’d returned from her own visit to your cell had reinforced the feelings he’d been having all along. Azula had commented on your appearance – bruised, battered and burnt – but the one that struck Zuko the most was wilted.

He’d once picked a magnificent fire lily, a gift for his mother, but distraction in the name of Azula had caused him to forget it, leaving it without water on his nightstand. When he had remembered it, he ran to collect it, hopeful that it would bring a smile to his mother’s face. Of course, it had wilted, and no amount of water was able to bring it back to life. The thought of the same thing happening to you – an absence of water wilting and drying you out for good – was not something that Zuko wanted to consider, and so he had evaded his sister, evaded his girlfriend, in order to deliver a bowl of water to a waterbending prisoner. Smiling to himself, Zuko thought of his Uncle Iroh – it seemed the exact type of thing that he would do if he was in this situation himself.

“I just don’t want you to dry out,” he answered, simply.

 _____

Day of the Black Sun

“You can’t be here,” you urged, hands clasped around the seam of Zuko’s robes.

“Come with me, then.”

Zuko had approached you in the infirmary, wounded soldiers filling the space quickly. The Fire Lord’s plan for the invasion was working, and there was nothing you could do to help. Zuko had his robe on, hood up, shielding himself from view.

“Zuko, please. Azula has threatened me with more than just fire. Just one week ago I was taken down to Harbor City, to heal. Azula has promised me, that if I attempt anything today, they will all be toast.”

Zuko watched you, eyes low and hands in his sleeves.

“Children, and families – innocent people will be harmed if I go with you. And-” You cut yourself short, words almost spilling from your lips. Your hands left Zuko’s robes and went to your chest, feeling your thumping heart.

“And what?” he said, darkly.

Glancing down, you picked at your nails, a sweet sweat coming over you. Spirits, did you want to believe in Zuko, you really did. But how could you be sure?

“Zuko… how can I,” you started, voice shaky. “You’ve hurt me too. How do I know you won’t do it again?”

A violent shudder rippled through Zuko at your words. He wasn’t surprised, though there was some small part of him that had hoped you had been able to see through the layers to the real Zuko that had lain hidden and dormant for years. Placing his hands over yours, he pulled you closer to his chest, foreheads once again touching like they had months ago in the Crystal Catacombs.

“Y/n, I will become the man you deserve,” Zuko murmured, his fingers delicately rippling through your hair.

I will. I will I will I will. 

Closing your eyes, you fumbled through the pockets of your robes before ripping into the seams, pulling out a delicate silver hair clip, adorned with white and blue gems and beads.

“Take this. Give it to Katara. Let the others know I’m okay,” you murmured as you placed the clip in his hands, holding your palms in his.

Gulping, you raised your eyes to look at him. Zuko framed your face with his hands, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, before he slipped away – away from his father, his sister, his nation, and away from you.    

_____

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[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part Ten of ??)

Aha! Finally it is done!

Hey everyone! It’s been one Monday of a week, but I finally had today (Saturday) off so I finally got to work on this update. I also thought I’d give you guys an update on my scheduling. One of the supervisor’s at work is done with her semester at college, so I’m probably not going to have a set schedule for awhile. That means the only day I know I will have off is Sunday. I usually work on writing on my day off, so updates are probably going to vary wildly from week to week. If I don’t get one out the rest of the week, you should see an update from me on Sunday (though it might be at a late hour, like this week).

Anywho, I hope you’re all doing alright and that you’re staying safe. I know I have some readers who recently had Finals Week (or whatever the equivalent of that is for you). I want to congratulate you on finishing your semester (because it is a big accomplishment), and that I hope you got high marks on your respective tests/projects/ect.

So, as always, if you’re new here, here is the link to Part One. You can also find the links to all the parts on my Master List if you’ve missed any of the other updates :)

This update was brought to you by the support of the following: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling (Seriously, thanks so much for the support you guys! I love each and every one of you!) If you’d like to be on the tags list for any future updates, please just drop a comment below or send me a message!

Satan/Mc

Word Count: 4,144

Trigger warnings: There might be some language in this one, Satan gets PISSED

“Will you just sit down Satan? You’re making me nervous,” Asmo complained, watching his brother with concern.

“Yeah. You’re totally breaking my concentration here,” Levi chimed in, not looking up from his game.

“Well, you can take your complaints to Lucifer,” Satan stated, starting what had to be his 200th pass on the same stretch of the ballroom, “I don’t know why we had to be here so early.”

“We got here ten minutes ago,” Belphie sighed, leaning on Beel, “You’re just nervous.”

“And what if I am?” Satan asked, his anxiety adding bite to the question.

“We’re all nervous,” Beel gently reminded Satan, “We’ve all missed our favorite human.”

“Not human anymore,” Mammon muttered, glaring at some undefined point in front of him, leg shaking anxiously. He had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since the night of the art show, gone most of the day, and retreating to his room when he was home.

An awkward hush fell across the group at his words, everyone’s thoughts turning inward. Satan sighed and sat down, the feathers on his boa trying their hardest to enter his mouth. The lacing on his shirt threatened to strangle him along with the collar, and his tail kept flexing around his leg. He was a bundle of nerves, and he couldn’t seem to relax. He had wanted to wear a simple suit or tuxedo, but the invitation from Diavolo had explicitly said demon forms were to be used.

A strangled but disgusted gasp escaped Asmo’s mouth, “What the hell is he doing here?!”

“Another jilted lover Asmo?” Belphie asked, rolling his eyes.

“No! It’s Michael!” Everyone’s head whipped up at that, even Levi.

“OMG! WFT?” Levi exclaimed, eyes large and worried.

“Bro, why is he here?” Mammon nearly growled, glaring at the man in question.

“I don’t know, but I want him to leave!” Asmo’s voice was getting more shrill as time went on.

“Is tha’ Lord Diavolo with ‘im?” Mammon asked, still glaring, though he wasn’t growling anymore.

“OMG, you’re right. They're laughing together too!” Levi narrated.

Beel had joined Mammon in glaring at Michael, as his twin smiled smugly, “Oh, you guys didn’t know?” Everyone looked over at that and you could tell Belphie was relishing in the shock, “Mc came with some angels. I hear Luke’s here too.”

“How can you possibly be happy about this?”

“What are you all gawking at? You all look like you’ve-” Lucifer cut off, finally seeing what his brothers were looking at. If he hadn’t already been in his demon form, Satan was fairly sure he would’ve burst into it immediately, though he didn’t look as surprised as Satan would expect him to.

“Oh.” 

The absolute contempt and disgust that dripped from that single word had all the brothers sharing looks, most very concerned. Belphie caught Satan’s eye, shooting him a sly, wicked grin. Satan wanted to share in Belphie’s enjoyment, but his mind was taking this new roadblock into account, trying to figure out how this was going to factor into his plan.

Satan didn’t really have an opinion on Michael. He had never really met the angel, his only knowledge of him coming from his shared memories with Lucifer, the little he’d heard from his brothers, and what he’d gleaned from Luke and Simeon’s conversations, not that he really cared. He simply wasn’t someone who mattered. That is, until now.

“Did you know Lucifer?” Asmo asked.

“Diavolo had told me Mc had come with two angels, though he didn’t mention names. I just assumed it was Simeon and Luke,” Lucifer was still watching Diavolo and Michael talking, though he had taken on a frigid demeanor, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. You didn’t have to be the Avatar of Wrath to sense the boiling anger underneath the frosty exterior.

Barbatos walked over to Diavolo and whispered something. The Demon Prince nodded and stood up, the congregation quieting, “Hello and welcome, each and every one of you! I’m so glad you could make it!” he voice boomed out into the 

Levi scoffed, “As if we had a choice.”

“Shaddup. Ya wanted to come jus’as much as the rest of us,” Mammon hissed.

“As most of you know, this ball is in honor of Jane Doe,”

“Wait.. Who’s that?” Beel asked, confused.

“That’s her pseudonym,” Belphie explained softly, Beel nodding his understanding.

“We have other guest’s as well, who came with Jane. Michael, the archangel,” Diavolo gestured to Michael who raised his hand in greeting with a smile, “And Luke, Jane’s older brother. You may all remember him when he was here as one of our first exchange students,” A blonde male who had been sitting by Michael inclined his head.

“Oh my gosh, that’s Luke?!” Asmo said loudly enough some nearby demons looked over.

“I didn’t even recognize him,” Levi murmured.

“Did he say brother?” Mammon asked.

“Shhhh!” Lucifer hissed as Diavolo continued.

“Now for the person you’ve all been waiting for, Jane Doe,” all the brothers held their breath as Mc walked over to Diavolo, an absolute vision. All of the brothers were transfixed, their own personal feelings overcoming everything else. Lucifer, having already seen Mc at the palace was the first to recover, looked over to Satan to see how he was doing. He was encouraged by what he saw. Satan was subconsciously touching his pocket where he knew he letter was at. Though he seemed a bit nervous, the fierce resolve in his eyes made him smile proudly, before looking back to Diavolo.

“I hope you all treat our guests with the same respect and kindness they’ll give to you. With the introductions done, let the party commence!”

“So, what’s the plan Satan?” Asmo asked, bringing the fourth born out of his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you need to talk with Mc right?” at the nod he continued, “Well, how about we help you?”

“We?” Belphie sighed, grabbing a lock of his hair.

“Yes we,” Asmo sighed, rolling his eyes.

Belphie sighed, but turned to look at Satan anyways, “Well, if I have to help, what do you need?”

“I just need to give her a letter,” Satan explained, about to tell everyone they didn’t need to bother, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Don’t you want to talk to her though?” Levi asked.

“Well, I need her to read this first. I didn’t make the best impression last time, and I don’t think I’ll be much better this time around,” Satan admitted, looking chagrined. He hadn’t told any of the brothers the entirety of what happened.

“Easy enough,” Mammon announced, getting up, “We just need to walk over and give it to her then.”

“Not so fast Mammon,” Lucifer said, motioning for him to sit, “She’s probably going to be flanked by those two angels all evening. I don’t know if they’d take well to one of us handing Lillith’s descendant a letter. Luke at least, is aware of Satan’s attachment to Mc, and last time I checked, he’s not a fan of ours. As for the other…” Lucifer trailed off, irritation twisting his features, “Who knows how that may go.”

“So we need to make sure to separate them all,” Levi mused.

“Do you have any ideas on how to do that? Like, anything from one of your anime’s?” Asmo asked.

“I mean, there’s the ‘trying to get the main character and love interest alone’, but it doesn’t always work, though it’s entertaining to watch.”

“Well, we want this to go well,” Asmo sighed, rolling his eyes.

“What about you then? Where’s your grand idea?” Levi scoffed.

“Actually, I do have an idea,” Asmo giggled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I really should’ve just done this myself,” Satan sighed, Asmo standing next to him.

“Oh, shush! This will turn out great, just wait.”

“When’s it supposed to work then? I mean, we’ve been standing here for an hour and we haven't caught a glimpse of Mc.”

“Patience, patience. Beel and Belphie… Well, Beel already has Luke distracted with food talk, and Lucifer’s doing a good job of keeping Michael… On his toes, I guess?”

“I do have to admit watching him run away from Michael is amusing,” Satan chuckled, his eyes darting to Lucifer from their perch on the balcony above the dancefloor. He was obviously fighting his pride, knowing he was running away from Michael, but unable to stay and deal with the angel who wouldn’t stop trying to find him, partially due to his pride as well. Looking back to Michael, Satan grinned, “Gotcha!”

“Wha… Oh! There she is! Told you!” Asmo nearly shouted.

“That was my ear.”

“Oop. Sorry.”

Satan watched Mc speak with Michael, noting all the small changes in her behavior. There was a level of refinement that hadn’t been there before, which made perfect sense seeing as how she had been raised in the Celestial Realm by Simeon. She was more graceful for one thing, and seemed more calm and at ease than he remembered her. She did seem more reserved and closed off than before, though that could just because she was talking with a superior. She was fairly open with me until I screwed it up, so hopefully she retained that part of herself, and hopefully I didn’t screw it up.

Asmo sighed, “Lucifer isn’t doing his job.”

“Did you really expect him to? He did say he didn’t want to be part of whatever you were planning.”

“Well, Michael chose to follow him. He was chosen. It’s fate.”

“Still doesn’t mean he’s going to actively participate.”

“Fine. Looks like I’m going to have to have Mammon and Levi do some work for us.”

“You really don’t have to do this. I can handle it.”

“Yeah, but that’s no fun. I also want to mess with Michael as much as possible.”

“Fine. What do we do next?”

“We have to get down onto the dance floor. I’m calling Mammon right now.”

They found the staircase closest to Mc and Michael and made their way down, Asmo on his DDD the whole time, “Yes… Do you see us? Oh, there you are. Do you see them? No, left… Left! Your other left! Mammon, how are you this stupid?... I’m not the one who can’t see-... No, you listen! I can’t stand that you-... How dare you! I- Ugh, fine… Yup, just distract him…” Asmo laughed, “No, though I would pay to see that. Maybe, walk past and see if he takes the bait?... Well, you’re just going to have to deal with it Levi… Look, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back to your game… Wow, I thought you wanted Mc back, but I guess not. I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t spend anytime with you… Then get your act together! Okay, Mammon, we’re close enough now. Alright, take it away.”

Satan watched as Mammon and Levi stepped out of the crowd, Mammon talking loudly enough to turn a lot of heads. Unfortunately, Michael was not one of these, though Mc seemed interested in what was going on. She seemed to ask Michael about it, but he just brushed it off, continuing to talk.

“Why does Mammon think he’s such hot stuff?” Asmo asked, rubbing his forehead.

“Don’t frown too much. You’ll get wrinkles,” Satan gently chided.

“You’re right,” Asmo sighed, “I just don’t know how to… Whoa. Look at that.”

Satan looked to find Diavolo talking with Mc and Michael. He also spied Lucifer keeping his distance, but frowning so intensely he was surprised Diavolo couldn't feel it. Michael said something and Diavolo laughed delightedly, motioning for Mc and Michael to join him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s alone now. I’ll cover you!” Asmo hissed, pushing Satan forward.

Mc was sitting on a bench, on the outskirts of the room. She was watching the crowd with interest, eyes bright and curious. Satan hesitated, before steeling himself and walking forward, letter in hand. He was almost close enough to her to call out, when some demon approached her. Satan turned on his heel, and concealed himself in the crowd. He watched the demon extend their hand, heart sinking as he realized what that meant. She smiled and nodded her head, taking their hand as she was escorted out onto the dancefloor.

“What happened? Where’d she go?” Asmo asked, joining his brother.

“Someone asked her to dance before I got there,” Satan muttered irritably.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan looked at the time on his DDD. There was only two hours left of the ball, and he still had the letter. The past hour had been spent trying to figure out how to get Luke to leave Mc’s side without much luck. Beel had apparently gone to raid the food table and then the palace kitchen, and Belphie had fallen asleep, so Luke had found his way back to his sister and hadn’t left her side since. Worse yet, it seemed his opinion on demons was unchanged, keeping most of those that came over to talk to the artist at bay with a single look.

“He needs to leave so we can get on with this.” Asmo huffed, upset his plan was failing.

“Well, he is a chihuahua,” Levi said distractedly, “I can’t… say for certain, but he’s probably… Trying to keep her out of trouble… Woot! Got it!”

“Levi, could you stop gaming for five seconds?” Asmo sighed.

“Well, I have bad ideas, so no. You’re lucky I decided to stick around at all,” Levi huffed, eyebrows furrowed, though from the game or Asmo, Satan didn’t know.

“Oh come on! Are you really that upset by my comment?” When Levi didn’t answer, Asmo rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Do you have any ideas then Levi?” Satan asked

“Not really.”

“Yo, yo, yo! Luke! What’s happenin’ my man?”

Both Mc, Luke and all three brother’s  looked over at Mammon strolling toward the duo through the crowd.

“Is he seriously…?” Levi asked.

“I think so…” Satan answered, shocked.

“How’ve ya’ been?” Mammon asked, grinning at the blonde angel.

“Fine I suppose,” Luke answered, suspicion lacing his words.

“Nice, nice. So, this is your sister?” The emphasis on the word left no interpretation of what he thought of the title.

“Yup. Of course, you can understand an angel’s definition of sibling though, don’t you Mammon?” Luke shot back.

“Oh! You’re Mammon!” Mc said suddenly, turning her full attention to Mammon “I’ve heard a lot about you!”

Mammon turned bright red, “Oh, you’ve heard of the Great Mammon?”

“Of course!” Mc beamed at him.

Mammon started stuttering, “W-W-Well, o-of course ya’ have.”

Mc giggled a bit at that, smiling at the second born, “I was actually hoping you might have some time you could spare to answer some of my questions.”

Satan was sure Mammon was going to combust, but Mc wrapped her arm around his anyways, “We’ll be back Luke.”

The blonde angel seemed like he wanted to argue, but something was holding him back, “I’ll be waiting then.” Mc nodded at him, and then walked off with Mammon.

“Wh… What just happened?” Levi nearly squealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I hear Mammon got to talk to Mc before you did.”

“Shut up Lucifer,” Satan muttered.

“Where are they?” Lucifer asked, and Satan pointed to a bench where Mc and Mammon were sitting. They seemed deep in a conversation.

“Interesting. I had to see it to believe it.”

“What’ve you been doing this whole time?”

“I’ve been… walking around…”

“Hiding from Michael.”

“That would imply I’m scared of him.”

“MmmmHmmm.”

“I do not fear Michael.”

“Good to hear, since he’s coming this way.”

Lucifer instantly started walking forward, stopping by some random succubus, “Hello, Jezebel. Would you like to dance?” Lucifer asked, barely waiting for a response before dragging her out onto the dance floor.

Satan was still chuckling, Lucifer’s discomfort making his misfortune seem better, when a male voice he remembered from memory but had never actually heard addressed him, “Are you Satan, Lucifer’s… son?”

Satan blinked a couple times, “Excuse me?”

“That is you right? Or do you prefer something different? Spawn of Lucifer?” Michael cocked his head a bit, seeming a little confused.

Some rational part of Satan’s brain was the only thing keeping him from jumping on the angel and ripping him to shreds. He couldn’t keep the growl from his voice as he responded, “I am Satan, THE Avatar of WRATH.”

“Oh, I seem to have hit a nerve. My apologies,” Michael said, actually bowing. Satan narrowed his eyes, tail flexing around his leg. Has he always been this stupid? Or is he mocking me?

“I was wondering if we could speak. Privately,” Michael said, his smile showing he knew he’d said something wrong.

“Anything you want to say you can say here, Michael.”

“I do think it would be better for us to speak privately,” Satan could feel Michael’s irritation building a bit.

“Why? So you can try to hurt my brother’s again by killing another of their siblings?”

The shock on Michael’s face satiated Satan’s anger enough that he almost laughed at it. Michael quickly put on a blank look, but Satan could hear the sorrow in his voice, “Though it is always unfortunate when an angel dies, I do not regret any of my actions. When someone goes against what they know to be right, there will always be consequences.”

“Of course. Always the errand boy, blindly doing whatever it is you’re told to do.”

“How would you know? You weren’t even around to know her. I’m not sure what lies you’ve been fed-”

“I was there, you imbecile,” Satan seethed, “I saw how your actions helped push Lucifer towards rebellion, knowingly or not, and how you stabbed him in the back once he was finally there. I remember them, and I find your actions to be deplorable.”

“Now listen here, you demon-”

“Oh, I’m the demon here?! Shall I describe, in detail, how you-”

“Everythin’ cool here?” Mammon came up next to Satan, putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

Satan whipped his head to look at Mammon, confirming that, yes, Mammon had heard what Michael had said.

“Ah, Mammon. It’s been awhile.”

Mammon looked over at Michael, his disgust thinly veiled, “Yeah, sure.”

“I would like to talk with your… brother, but he doesn’t seem to want to.”

“Good fer him. Tah be honest with ya’, I don’ trust ya’ Michael. I didn’ up in the Celestial Realm, and I don’ now. If ya’ wanna’ talk with Satan, I suggest ya’ do it where we can all see ya’.”

Satan felt two hands on his shoulders, and looked back to see both Beel and Belphie standing behind him. Neither one of them looked very happy, but Beel’s look was a lot more intense than Belphie’s.

Michael sighed, especially after seeing the twins, “If you’re not going to allow me to explain, I can only tell you this: It is imperative she not remember her past. It will hurt both of you more than you could ever know. Now, I have things to do, if you’ll excuse me,” and with that, he left.

“I really don’ like that guy,” Mammon shook his head, “Oh, Satan, hol’ on a sec. Imma be right back,” and with that, he took off.

“You okay Satan?” Beel asked, still frowning after Michael.

“Yeah, things just got a bit intense there for a second. Thanks.”

“I don’t think your thanks is going to stop here. We’re going to leave you now. Have fun,” Belphie smirked before wandering off with Beel.

Satan shook his head at all the weirdness happening around him, before resuming his place along the wall. He didn’t know how things had escalated that quickly with Michael, especially considering the guy had never done anything to him personally. Yeah, he had all the memories of Lucifer being angry at him, and he had hurt his brother’s, but he had never had any personal problems with him. Well, a lot of Lucifer’s anger started because of Michael, and that’s what I was born from… The small voice in the back of his head started acting up, though he often tried to keep it quiet, You’re more like Lucifer then you want to admit.

He growled a bit at the voice, before starting to wander around. People watching always helped calm him down. It was one of the things he had done in his early life to help him learn how to interact with others, at Asmo’s suggestion. He always found something new to store away in his brain, and the problem solving helped calm his brain.

“There ya’ are! We’ve been lookin’ for ya’.”

We? Satan turned to Mammon to see Mc standing next to him. Satan froze, having not prepared himself to talk to her.

“She asked me ta dance, but cha know I’m more of a solo dancer myself, so I was wondering if you would for me?”

“I… Uhhh… Yes, if she would like,” Satan finally managed to get out, watching Mc for any negative reactions.

“I have no problems with it,” Mc answered cryptically, nothing in her tone or mannerisms betraying how she actually felt about the suggested change.

“Uh… Perfect, I guess. Have fun you two,” Mammon announced before walking off.

I could both hug him and punch him, Satan thought, though what came out of his mouth was, “Well, may I have this dance?” while extending his hand to her.

A smile graced her lips, “You certain may.”

He led her out onto the dance floor, still lightly holding her hand. He was still nervous, but not like he was the last time they’d met. He let his mask start to slip when he faced her, “I’m very glad you accepted my invitation to dance,” he slipped his hand to its proper place for the waltz as the music started.

“It’s my pleasure,” She smiled, though not as warmly as he would’ve hoped. They started dancing effortlessly, Satan extremely happy they were still in sync. If only the conversation flowed as easily. Satan spent the first full minute of the dance just trying to figure out what to say to her, also trying not to think about how beautiful she looked.

Finally, he figured out something neutral to say, “Have you been enjoying the Devildom?”

“Yes, I have, thank you for asking.”

“What’s been your favorite part?”

Mc took a minute to think, “I would have to say… Sightseeing. There’s a lot here I could have never imagined existing in the Celestial Realm.”

“Ah. Have you visited the Royal Library yet?”

“I have actually. I’ve been researching for my next art project.”

“You’re working on a new art project?”

“Yes. I feel rather inspired here.”

“I look forward to seeing it. Are you planning on showing it in the Devildom?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Good. We need new art down here,” Satan said before the conversation lapsed back into silence. It was towards the end of the song that Satan decided to bring up the elephant in the room, “I’ve ummm… Been hoping I would see you again.”

“As have I.”

“You have?” he asked, extremely surprised.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to figure out why you acted the way you did.”

Oh.

“I apologize for that. I… Well, I actually wrote you a letter to explain it. I know my behavior was… off to say the least. I’ve been going through a lot lately, and I apologize that it negatively affected my behavior towards you.”

“You wrote me a letter?”

“Yes. I find I can express myself far better and with far more accuracy by writing than by talking.”

“Ah. Do… Do you have that letter with you?” Her voice was small when she asked.

“I do. I was planning to give it to you tonight anyways.”

“You were?”

“Oh, I said that out loud didn’t I?” Mc giggled at that and Satan felt better, the mask slipping even more, “I’ve been trying to find a good time to give it to you all night actually.”

“Really?” Her smile was curious and a bit teasing.

“Er, yeah. I hope you’re okay with that.”

“I think that’s alright,” Mc smiled, finally seeming at ease around him.

The song ended then, and Satan reached into his back pocket to produce the letter, “Here it is.”

“I’ll make sure to read it,” Mc promised, reaching for the letter. Their fingers brushed when she went to grab it, and they both blushed at the contact, “Well, I’m going to go find Luke. Thank you for the dance.”

“No, thank you,” Satan said sincerely, smiling softly.

She smiled back, and with that she was gone.

“Heh. You owe me don’ cha’,” Mammon’s voice came from behind him, sounding pretty smug.

“I’d say you’ve made up for not telling me she was in town.”

“I’ll take it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey you guys, a couple more things:

First off, I have passed the 100 follower mark, and I was wondering if you guys wanted me to do anything for it.

Second: I was wondering how you guys ran across this fic. If you wanna comment down below and just let me know. I’m really wondering how my work’s being spread, so if you could do that, I’d appreciate it!

~As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated (I always read everything you guys write in the comments and reblogs)

Part Eleven

[awkwardpenguinproductions]

Perspective

Part 11 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

Bato usually takes his evening walk a lot earlier than this, so that he can catch the sunset over the water and marvel (two years away from home and he’s still not used to the sun actually rising and setting more than twice a year). Tonight, however, a series of events have conspired to make him late, and the sun has just set when he finally leaves the Abbey and heads down to the beach toward his ship.

A month after the skirmish, and his burns are still tender and stiff, but the sisters are well-versed in healing and Bato knows it’s nearly time to move on. Hakoda and the rest of the Fleet should be somewhere in the Eastern Earth Kingdom by now, and Bato is just waiting for his Chief to send word so that Bato can rejoin his brothers.

As he approaches his ship, a flickering orange light pierces the darkness, and his heart stops for a moment. Firebenders? But the only sounds are the waves of the sea against the sand and the crackling fire, so Bato keeps his hand on his dagger and approaches cautiously.

As he gets closer, he can see the silhouette of someone sitting before a campfire, someone with what looks to be a shaggy wolf-tail. A stick snaps under Bato’s foot, and the person jolts, standing and whirling around with a weapon in hand.

“Who’s there?” Calls out an achingly familiar voice, and Bato can’t believe it.

“Sokka?” He asks, stepping into the circle of firelight. And so it is, his Chief’s son, relaxing from his fighting stance.

“Bato?” His voice has deepened, and cracks on the end where it turns up in question.

“Who the what now?” Another voice asks, male and young, and Bato can see a small body resting on one of the legs belonging to a huge furry creature the size of his ship. Across the campfire from Sokka, Katara sits up in her sleeping bag and calls out, “Bato!”

Bato braces himself as both Sokka and Katara run over to hug him, with the smaller boy and another one, nearly fully grown and shrugging a quiver over his shoulder. “Sokka, Katara! It is so good to see you! You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi, I’m Aang, and this is Zuko,” the small boy says, bowing and indicating his taller companion, who also bows. Bato is about to greet them, but Sokka speaks before he can.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Is he here?” Katara asks eagerly.

Bato hates to disappoint them, but there’s no point in prevaricating, so he tells them where Hakoda and the fleet are and invites them to the Abbey.

His niece and nephew are delighted with his room, while Avatar Aang grimaces in poorly disguised disgust and the silent Zuko glances around with an appreciative air. Bato wants to ask the boy about the massive burn scar on his face, maybe compare battle stories, but Sokka and Katara command his attention, and his relief and delight at seeing them and finding them well overwhelm his instinct to be a good host.

They eat their fill of stewed sea prunes and talk. Aang tries to participate in the conversation, while Zuko doesn’t say a word, but watches everyone keenly, and Bato could swear that his eyes flicker gold in the firelight. That’s impossible, though— Sokka and Katara more than anybody know better than to trust ash-makers . Bato puts the thought out of his mind, and conversation turns to Hakoda and the Southern Water Tribe fleet.

When he tells them about the message he’s expecting from Hakoda, the kids’ faces light up.

“Really?” Katara squeals.

“When?” Sokka demands. Between them, Zuko looks up from the arrows he’s fletching, a small smile on his face.

“Any day now,” Bato replies, almost as excited as them. “Your father said he’d send a message when they found the rendezvous point. If you wait until the message arrives, you can come with me, and see your father again.”

Sokka beams. “It’s been over two years since we’ve seen Dad! That would be so incredible! Katara!”

“I do really miss him,” Katara sighs wistfully. “It would be great to see Dad.”

“It’s been far too long, hasn’t it?” Bato commiserates. He misses his brother warriors like he would miss his limbs. “I’m not sure when word will arrive, but when it does, you’re more than welcome to come along to see your father.”

Both the kids deflate suddenly. “It would be great, but we can’t,” Sokka says gravely. “We have to get Aang to the North Pole.”

“Even if we do have time to wait for the message, who knows how far we’d have to travel?” Katara adds with typical pragmatism. “We don’t have time for a long detour.”

Bato is disappointed, but also immensely proud, and knows that Hakoda will be as well, and says so. Sokka and Katara beam, and Zuko looks a bit relieved.

With the break in conversation, Bato turns his attention to the archer, and now that he has consistent light from the whale oil lamps hanging around the room, realizes that the boy really is just a boy, perhaps a year or so older than Sokka. The burn scar on his left eye dominates his pale face, despite being half hidden under shaggy black hair.

"You've been very quiet, Zuko, I'm sorry we've been so rude," Bato says, shooting a playfully scolding look at Katara and Sokka, who sheepishly smile and smirk respectively. "I'm Bato, first subordinate to Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe Coalition."

Zuko smiles, balls one hand into a loose fist, and taps the fingers against his mouth.

"Zuko doesn't talk," Sokka says with a shrug. "We don't know why––he's teaching us his hand language, but it's kind of slow going. He can write, but he hasn't really told us much of anything about himself. Can we tell him? He's trustworthy, he's basically my dad's common sense." Sokka has turned to Zuko, who is now eyeing Bato thoughtfully, and he can feel himself shiver as that gaze lays him open and reads him like a book. Those eyes glint gold again, and Bato has a bad feeling.

Zuko nods, short and sharp.

"Okay, so Zuko here defected from the Fire Nation, basically," Sokka states, quick and simple, like ripping off a bandage. "Aang had gotten himself captured by this seriously bad news Admiral, and Zuko got him out. As soon as Aang learns Zuko's language, Zuko's going to teach him firebending."

A firebender.

A firebender. Next to his kids. Traveling with the Avatar.

A firebender. In. His. Room.

The smoke from the cookfire is choking. Pain races up and down Bato's arm. The ash-maker is too close. Too close to the cookfire, too close to the kids, too close to Bato . The knife is in his hand before he even thinks to draw it.

"Bato!"

Katara sounds scared. She should be, she's sitting next to a firebender. Ash-makers killed Kya.

"Bato. Stop. Put it down."

Hakoda? But Hakoda's in the East.

"Bato." The voice rings with Hakoda's authority, and it pierces some of the haze that's settled over Bato's mind. "Bato. There is no threat. Put. The knife. Down. "

Bato blinks, and suddenly he's back, in his room at the Abbey, and when had he stood up? The knife falls to the floor beside his foot. Sokka stands before him, tall, so tall when did he get so tall, his own dagger drawn and held at the ready, half in front of a white-faced, kneeling Zuko being comforted by Katara.

"Bato." Sokka has never sounded more like his father than he does in this instance, and Bato almost snaps to attention on instinct. He drags his eyes away from the prostrate firebender to his best friend's son, who is studying him with a hunter's gaze, cool and assessing and sharp. When did Sokka transform from a goofy boy to this warrior?

"Bato," Sokka says again, steel threading his voice. "Zuko is under the protection of the Chieftain's Heir. He is not to be harmed by word or deed. Doing so is an affront to me, and to my father as Chief. Do I have your word as a Warrior of the Water Tribe?"

This man will make a great Chief someday, Bato thinks, as he drops to one knee and says aloud, "I swear by Tui and La as a Warrior of the Water Tribe that Zuko of the Fire Nation shall not be intentionally harmed by word or deed by my hand.”

Sokka nods sharply, sheathes his dagger, and turns to his friend, dropping to one knee and murmuring to him. After a few nods and headshakes, and one odd gesture where Zuko shakily places one loose fist palm out on his forehead and then stretches out the thumb and pinky finger, the firebender slowly gets to his feet and disappears out the door. Sokka and Katara share a look, and Sokka sits back down facing Bato.

“Okay, what in La’s name just happened?” He asks, pinning Bato with a hard look.

Bato shifts uneasily on his mat. “Where is he going?”

“That’s not the question right now, but he’s gonna go hang out with Appa for a while,” Sokka replies, waving a hand as though letting a firebender run around a peaceful Abbey was nothing to worry about. Sokka must have seen something of his worry on Bato’s face, because his blue eyes turned to sharpened ice. “Zuko has my trust. If it weren’t for him, Katara and I would have died, and Aang would be on a ship to the Fire Nation capital as a trophy. You’re on thin ice, though. What. Just. Happened?”

Bato bows his head. “Ever since your father brought me here, I’ve been… struggling,” he says quietly. “Fire is not the comfort it once was. Firebenders figure… prominently… in my nightmares. When you said that Zuko was going to teach the Avatar firebending… I’m afraid I lost my head a little bit.”

Sokka’s lips press into a line. “That’s not a good thing, Bato,” he says. “You need to get a grip on that, because to end this war we’re going to need Fire Nation allies. Including firebenders. We can’t afford to alienate people willing to work with us just because you can’t handle that they bend fire.”

Bato knows he’s right. Every word is exactly as Hakoda would have said, and Bato has every intention of telling his best friend exactly how much his son has grown.

“I suppose I should apologize to Zuko,” Bato sighs, running a hand over his face. He should probably talk to one of the sisters about his reaction, as well. They’re pretty well skilled in healing both bodies and minds, and he does not want a repeat of tonight when and if the issue of …firebending allies… comes up again.

Sokka nods, but Katara pins Bato with a frown. “It can wait until morning,” she declares. “Give him a chance to calm down.”

Aang returns, a bit obnoxiously cheerful in the solemn room, and Bato wonders at the Spirits who had seen fit to grant the world a child Avatar.

Zuko doesn’t return.

The next morning, Bato leaves his room and finds Zuko in the courtyard, practicing what look like bending forms. Aang sits nearby, watching with wide eyes. The older boy is stripped to the waist, even in the chilly morning air, and every movement he makes is controlled, precise, and calculated. There is no fire, most likely in deference to their current location, but Bato can easily imagine the flames bursting from Zuko’s strikes and trailing like ribbons from his kicks.

Zuko finishes his practice, spots Aang, and reaches the Avatar’s side in long strides. He makes a series of gestures, fluid and quick, to which Aang responds with his own slow, clumsy movements. Zuko corrects him, fixing the positioning of fingers and guiding the movement of hands, all with a gentleness that Bato would never have expected to see from a firebender. Aang tries again, and this time gets an approving nod. Aang beams and skips away. Zuko shakes his head, smiling wryly, and Bato takes the opportunity to approach.

As soon as he takes the first step, Zuko’s face snaps in his direction, his entire body going stiff and his expression wiping clear. The boy watches keenly as Bato comes closer, eyes darting here and there as though searching for weapons, but Bato had made sure to leave every weapon he has in his room this morning. No need to make the situation worse. He stops just out of his own arms’ reach, and is gratified to see Zuko relax just a little bit.

“Zuko, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night,” Bato says formally. “I do not know quite what came over me, but I will ensure that it does not happen again. I am sorry; I know I frightened you, and I sincerely apologize.”

Zuko’s posture slowly relaxes, although he never loses the military-erect stance. He forces a half-smile at Bato, shrugs a little, and makes a quick couple of shapes with one hand before striding off in the direction of the bathhouse.

Later that morning, Bato and the kids  head back to Bato’s ship, and Bato takes them “ice dodging”, if it can be called such when dodging rocks instead of ice. Despite Zuko’s and Aang’s obvious inexperience with sailing, the kids all work together flawlessly, and Sokka’s use of his crew’s bending abilities is inspired.

When it’s over, Bato takes a bowl of face paint and conducts the Marking ceremony.

“The Spirits of Water bear witness to these Marks!” He intones, and draws the first mark on Sokka’s forehead. “For Sokka, the Mark of the Wise. The same Mark your father earned. For Katara and Zuko, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us.” When Zuko flinches as Bato reaches to draw the Mark on his forehead, Katara takes the bowl from him and draws it herself. “Your courage is especially inspiring, Zuko,” Bato continues, smiling at the young man. “I know that I didn’t give you much reason to trust me, and your decision to bend despite your fear that I might attack you showed enormous courage and trust in your fellow warriors. That is truly inspiring.”

Bato takes the paint bowl back from Katara and turns to Aang. “And for Aang, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe, as is Zuko.”

He draws the Mark on Aang’s forehead, over the blue arrow, but instead of looking happy, Aang’s eyes are downcast.

“I can’t,” he says quietly.

“Sure you can!” Katara says brightly, while Zuko and Sokka look confused.

Aang wipes off the Mark and backs away. “No, you can’t trust me,” he asserts.

"What are you talking about?" Katara demands, and Zuko begins to look alarmed as Aang curls in on himself, and pulls a crumpled piece of parchment from his tunic.

"A messenger gave this to me for Bato," he says quietly.

Bato can only watch as the crew that had worked together so well just twenty minutes ago falls apart before his eyes.

Sokka shouts, Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs silently, and Katara stands staring at Aang with a heartbroken expression on her face until Sokka stomps away and demands, "Katara, are you with me?"

She pauses for a moment, but only a moment, and then her shoulders stiffen and she closes her eyes and replies quietly, “I’m with you, Sokka.”

As Sokka leads the way back to the Abbey, Bato glances back to see Zuko cuff Aang across the back of the head.

Everyone is packed and ready to leave within an hour, and after a brief goodbye at the Abbey gates, Aang and Zuko go one way with Appa and Momo, and Bato leads Sokka and Katara in the opposite direction.

They walk in silence for a long time, and Bato doesn’t really know how to lighten the oppressive sadness that surrounds the kids. He’s thrilled to finally be returning to his brother warriors, and he’s so excited to be bringing his niece and nephew to see their father. They’ve both grown so much, and Bato can’t wait to see the look on Hakoda’s face when he sees them.

A wolf howls in misery somewhere in the distance, and Bato feels his spirit howling in answer.

“That wolf sounds so sad," Katara says quietly.

"It's probably wounded," Sokka replies.

"No, it's been separated from the pack," Bato interjects. "I understand that pain. It's how I felt when the Water Tribe warriors had to leave me behind. They were my family, and being apart from them was more painful than my wounds."

Sokka has a pensive expression on his face as he turns to study the path they had just walked.

"Sokka?" Katara asks.

Sokka takes a deep breath, and Bato knows what he's going to say before he says it. "We need to go back. I wanna see Dad, but helping Aang is where we're needed the most. And Zuko… he can probably take care of himself okay, but if he gets to the North Pole and the Tribe doesn't believe Aang when he tells them Zuko's on our side… We need to go back."

Katara smiles. "You're right."

Bato is so, so proud of them he could burst. He strides forward and puts a hand on each of their shoulders. "Your father will understand, and I know he's proud of you."

There's only the slightest shake in Sokka's voice as he says, "Thanks, Bato."

"I know where to go from here," Bato continues, and fishes the map out of his tunic to hand to Sokka. "Take this in case you want to find us. I'll leave a message at the rendezvous point."

The kids each give him a hug, and Bato continues up the path alone.

It takes a month and a half, three weeks of which are spent sailing, but Bato eventually makes it to the cove in Chameleon Bay where the Southern Water Tribe fleet is anchored. During this time, the moon actually disappears for about half an hour or so, and Bato is terrified out of his wits until it reappears. He doesn't want to think about how that could have happened, so he puts it out of his mind until he's reunited with his brother warriors.

Hakoda embraces him with tears in his eyes, the strength of his hug around Bato's middle a testament to his worry. The men tease him about his "vacation", and Bato gives as good as he gets, ecstatic to be back with his brothers.

That night, around the campfire, Bato turns to his Chief.

"Hakoda," he says, "you'll never guess who I ran into."

Previous | Next

[melzula]

how about a fire liiies blurb about princess reader, zuko and iroh coming across azula after the invasion of the north?

a/n: the first half is so much longer than the second oh goodness but I hope you enjoy!

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Run away with me.”

“We’ll go wherever you’d like, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”

“We’re going to be so happy together, y/n.”

“You’re going to be happy with me.”

The ocean breeze that flows through your loose locks of hair is a bittersweet reminder of the home you’d left behind three years ago today. The quiet island you’ve found to rest on is beautiful, but it’s hard to enjoy the peace and tranquility that surrounds you after having grown accustomed to living a life of constant action and chaos. It’s in the moments of stillness that your mind is able swirl with thoughts of guilt and doubt until you begin to feel nauseous and homesick. You love Zuko, and that seems to be the only thing you‘re ever one hundred percent sure of nowadays. The rest is fuzzy and uncertain, but you try not to let it get the best of you.

You’ve kept your distance from Zuko for most of the day, wanting to allow him the necessary amount of space and respect needed to lament over the anniversary of his banishment, but the invisible barrier that separates you both only seems to make things more depressing. You feel guilty for having such thoughts, but you can’t help the small bit of resentment that sits in your heart as you are reminded of the fact that you should be in Ba Sing Se right now instead of sulking on the dock. If you had known you’d be traveling fruitlessly in search of the Avatar, you might have rethought your decision just a bit more. You can’t say you regret your choice, however, because it got you out of an unwanted marriage and gave you an opportunity to grow as a bender, something you never would have gotten at home. Your mother used to say that things always had a funny way of working themselves out, and you had to hope that this piece of advice was true.

A quiet presence seats themself beside you, and you don’t have to look to know that it’s Zuko. There is no tension or awkwardness to the silence you sit in, but there is a bit of nervousness that radiates off of Zuko. He knows today is important to you just like it is to him, though for partly different reasons, and he wants you to feel understood and appreciated. Spirits know he hasn’t done a very good job of that lately.

“Do you like it here?” Zuko asks quietly.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum in response. “I’ve never been anywhere like it.”

“I’m glad,” he nods before opening his palm to you and revealing a beautiful cherry blossom. His cheeks are dusted with a light shade of pink as he clears his throat and gestures to your hair. “May I?”

A gentle smile graces your features at the offer and you nod, allowing Zuko to carefully tuck the flower into your hair. He’ll never be able to understand how someone as beautiful and precious as you could love someone so flawed like himself. What was it that kept you around even after all he put you through? He knew it wasn’t for money nor for a chance to climb your way to the top; you were a Princess who chose to throw everything away to live a simple life as peasants with him in Ba Sing Se. He knew you loved him, but so had his mother and she had still left him. You don’t know it, but Zuko fears the day you decide you’ve had enough and leave him behind.

“You’re beautiful,” Zuko admits with a small smile, and you happily rest your head upon his shoulder and look out at the crystal blue ocean before you. “Thank you for being here with me. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“Things never are,” you note knowledgeably, “but I don’t mind it. Not when I’m with you.”

“I love you,” Zuko professes, and it occurs to him then that he hasn’t said so in a long while. Yet another fault you seem to ignore because you truly do care for him in a way that no one ever has.

“I love you too. And I truly do believe things are going to get better from here.”

“Let’s go inside,” Zuko says after a moment’s beat. “Uncle should be back from the beach by now.”

Rising from his seat on the dock, Zuko holds his hand out to you and helps you up from the ground before guiding you back up the hills and into your temporary shelter. Neither of you are sure how long you’ll be able to stay here, but with the beautiful cherry blossom trees and kind people who reside on the island, it isn’t exactly a bad place to live. Maybe you can get your fresh start here.

Iroh is there to greet when you return to your little refuge, a vast collection of seashells laid out to admire on the table.

“Look at these magnificent shells!” Iroh exclaimed, handing you a particularly pretty blue conch. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come.”

“We don’t need anymore useless things,” Zuko reminds him exasperatedly. “You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now.”

“Hello, brother,” a voice suddenly interrupts, starting the three of you. “Uncle... Princess.”

“Azula,” you gasp quietly, and Zuko is quick to push you behind him and shield you from his conniving sister.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asks gruffly.

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions,” Azula sneers. “Has surrounding yourself with...” she pauses, eyes glancing towards you, “poor company made you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!” He yells. “And don’t bring into her this.”

“I’ve come with a message from home,” she says casually. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home. Family are the only ones you can really trust.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the news, fingertips digging into Zuko’s bicep tightly in apprehension. Home? After all he put Zuko through he’s willing to let him back in just like that? Despite the news he says nothing, makes no move to react, and Azula finds his lack of response unnerving.

“Where’s my thank you?” Azula muses. “I’m not a messenger, I didn’t have to come all this way.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at the Princess when the words leave her mouth; yes, she didn’t have to come all this way, and knowing Azula she wouldn’t have for something so small and unworthy of her time. Why not send a messenger hawk or a soldier or anyone of lesser importance to retrieve Zuko and Iroh? Why send Azula? This whole thing isn’t sitting right with you, and your watchful gaze never leaves her even as she excuses herself for the evening and allows Zuko to mull over the news on his own.

“Father wants me home,” he murmurs quietly, and you and Iroh both exchange uneasy glances with each other.

“I’m going to find some dinner for the night,” you announce, but Zuko doesn’t even seem to hear you or notice your departure. There’s much to think about, and you’d like to do so alone.

The cherry blossoms aren’t as pretty as they had been in the morning, now seeming to loom over you tauntingly with the uncertainty of the future. Even if this wasn’t some sort of trick, you doubt you’d be welcomed with the same warmth Iroh and Zuko would be given. You were an outsider, a water bender, a threat, and a distraction to the Prince. You simply couldn’t see yourself living a life amongst the very same people who threaten the ways of your tribe. It would be wrong, and if you felt guilty now you’d feel utterly awful then. You love Zuko, but you aren’t about to willingly follow him and his sister back to the Fire Nation. After everything you’ve been through, this could be the end of your journey together.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around for this long,” Azula notes offhandedly as you pick through the fresh fruit of the local market.

“You know how much your brother means to me,” you reply calmly, refusing to let her play her little games with you. “But I know you don’t approve of me, and I know you’ll be happy to hear that I won’t be coming with him.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m going back to the Southern Water Tribe, and I’d appreciate it if you could take me there on your ship. I won’t be in your way and I’ll keep to myself, but if not I can find my own way.”

“Oh, I’d be happy to take you,” Azula replies with a glint in her eye. “After all, as Princesses we have to look out for each other.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmur, attempting to pay for your groceries only to have Azula wave you off and do so herself.

“I want you to enjoy your last meal with my brother,” she says with a snide smile. “Once he’s back home I’m sure ZuZu will forget all about you.”

“If that’s what you do want to believe,” you reply emotionlessly before turning to venture back home. You stop in your tracks as Azula calls after you, voice lilting with each syllable.

“You’re not the only girl who has her heart set on being with Zuko,” Azula informs you smugly. “My friend Mai has had her sights on him ever since we were children, and as the daughter of a very power politician I’m sure she’d have no trouble winning him over.”

Your shoulders tense slightly at the information but you don’t give Azula the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you. Instead, you keep your gaze set straight ahead and let out a small breath of air.

“Thank you for the groceries, Azula,” you reply, then continue on your way home.

Dinner is a silent affair as you quietly pick at your noodles, and it’s only until Iroh leaves the two of you alone that Zuko speaks up.

“You’re upset about something.”

“No I’m not.”

“Your nose gets twitchy whenever you’re upset or troubled,” Zuko points out, and it’s times like these where you wish he didn’t know you as well as he did.

“I won’t be going with you,” you say after letting out a sigh.

“What are you talking about?” He replies with a furrowed bro.

“I know you’re going back home, and I’m not going to stop you from doing so. But I can’t go with you. I’m returning back to the Southern Water Tribe.”

“You can’t do that!” Zuko argues. “What about us?”

“There’s still the secret tunnel,” you remind him, “we can still see each other. I just think this is what’s best for us.”

“I thought you’d want to come with me,” Zuko murmurs dejectedly. “Don’t you want to stay with me?”

“I do. I really do. But do you honestly think I’d be welcomed in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s silence is enough of an answer for you to finalize your decision, and with a small sigh you rise from your seat at the table and collect the leftover dishes from dinner.

“I’ll come with you on the ship, but I want to be taken back home.”

Defeated, Zuko watches with a forlorn face as you walk out of the room to wash the dishes. It seems your journey together is coming to an end, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead troubles him greatly. He wants to return home, but he also wants to keep you by his side. What is he to do?

~~~

“We’re taking the prisoners home.”

You knew it was all just a dirty little trick; Azula was capable of anything, even turning in her own brother. It looks like you won’t be returning home any time soon, and neither will Zuko.

You fight off the Fire Nation soldiers alongside Iroh while Zuko handles his sister, using the vast ocean around you to your advantage as you topple men left to right. Thanks to Iroh you’re familiar with their movements and understand their approach, thus making it easier for you block and avoid their attacks before retaliating with your own.

With a final wave of water that washes them off the dock, the three of you are quick to run off as far as you can until your legs are too tired to carry on any further. You stop by a nearby stream, and only once you’re sure you’re safe do you stop to take a breath.

Zuko stares out at the water with a solemn expression on his features, and you watch in quiet admiration as both he and Iroh cut off their top knots. You know what this means, and you know how important and symbolic the action is to them both. Their ties with the Fire Nation have been severed, and there’s no going back now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer lamely, but Zuko still takes your hand in his own and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“You shouldn’t be,” is all he says, and you watch quietly as his severed hair floats along the river.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox |

[jyndor]

(Imperialism etc anon) Ok I get where you're coming from! Thank you for being understanding. While Zutara is obviously not inherently racist or anything there are zutara interpretations that *are* racist (example: fire lady katara which I can get into) and it does need to be acknowledged that Zuko's status as fire nation royalty does create a power imbalance between him and Katara. Now, this is a conversation that has a lot of nuance to it but it seems like the people harassing you are (1/2)

(2/2) just repeating some genuine critique they saw without understanding what it means just to say that they're right, harassing people in the process. I did not have that context when sending that first ask and I apologize, since anons harassing you and others are clearly doing it out of bad faith. I just didn't like the leveraging of concepts that really matter in real life (colonialism, etc), ykwim? But I get what you were trying to do.

hey anon I’m finally getting to you after 84 years XD

so first off, I want to be careful about how I approach this because I understand that as a white person (even if my ancestors experienced imperialism) in the US I absolutely benefit from imperialism and don’t want to like, idk, whitesplain XD so if anyone gets annoyed with any way I say anything, just lmk and I’ll rework it. and I also do understand that these are real world issues that are far more consequential than messaging in media (although I do think it’s very important that we challenge messages in media because of media’s influence on our thinking and politics).

but before I talk about zuko and his relationship to fire nation imperialism, and then later fire lady katara and why it isn’t INHERENTLY racist but definitely can be, I want to talk about the atla fandom and how we got here. like, why I assume that most anons who come at zutara shippers are asshats acting in bad faith. if you already know fandom history, skip this section.

1. atla and the fandom has always been kind of shitty and racist

so IDK if everyone is familiar with the history of the ship war in atla fandom, but it’s regarded as one of the nastiest ship wars in fandom history which I agree lol. atla’s creators were some of the first to interact with the fandom the way they did - back then it wasn’t all that common for creators to get into twitter feuds with fans and boundaries were respected more than they are now imo. but for better or worse, and it is a mixed bag, bryke interacted with fandom a lot. certainly at cons but also on social media.

but honestly things really got extra mean in fan spaces when bryke made a “joke” atla season 4 slideshow out of fan art (some of which was really sexual in nature and totally inappropriate) that mocked fans’ creations, but especially zutara fanart and zutara itself. it was pretty tasteless especially considering how most zutara fans were teen girls, and featured some art of sokka saying that if you think zuko and katara would be good together, you’re doomed to have failed relationships. that’s where the whole “dark and mysterious” bs came from, which does describe some zutara fic but not even most of it lol. I actually do respect bryke a lot despite my criticism of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over that shit. like even if you hate zutara, even if it’s a joke, we were kids. and they were adults, and the whole thing was nasty.

however, the ship war was chaotic and messy, but it does feel worse now. maybe it’s because back then the fandom was MOSTLY teens and kids, and I don’t think that’s true now. we were all trying to prove our ship was best with like, content from the show and theories and all that, and now it’s like... whose ship is ~problematic lol it’s a show by white us americans appropriating from various cultures impacted negatively by us/british imperialism that they then profited off of, of course it’s racist. that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about that, and in fact many poc have been saying this shit for years - that atla is racist and colorist at many times (guru pathik anyone?) and no one really listened.

if fans are complaining only about zutara, then I’m automatically writing them off as being insincere or ignorant. and since most of these people are anonymous, I have no idea if they are having substantive discourse about colorism in avatar or cultural appropriation (even if it is mostly appreciative). if you are on anon, I have no context about what you actually think except for what you give me. and that definitely is how I view anons in general but especially within the atla fandom because for all 13-ish years I’ve been in it, it’s been messy. that’s why zutara fans have isolated ourselves from the rest of fandom, because the rest of fandom has been really nasty to us. like did we give back some nastiness? absolutely.

but I would hazard a guess that most anti-zutara shippers don’t know about the conversations we have had in this community to make it safer for people of color, conversations that centered poc and woc especially. hey, that’s okay - not to compare zutara to r*ylo because eurgh but like, idk what discourse the r*ylos have about their community. no idea, I don’t go looking for it. and I don’t go to the tags and harass r*ylos - even though they harass the fuck out of everyone else.

2. so zuko and his privilege

undoubtedly zuko as fire lord is in a fairly privileged position LMFAO. but during the show zuko is very clearly exiled - he holds very little political power in the fire nation EXCEPT for during the first season when he is in command of a ship that ozai gave him on a punishment quest lol like yeah he does terrible things and he of all people would not excuse his actions even if he was a traumatized kid, that’s the point of his arc - that he got some exposure to the rest of the world and worked to be better. and the only reason he was exiled at all was because he cares about people - he didn’t question fire nation supremacy at 13, but he sure did question the morality of his people being lead to slaughter.

but after zuko and iroh defect from the fire nation and stop hunting aang, he has next to no power, in any kind of way. like the guy is a political refugee. and yes, he goes back to the fire nation for like five minutes before realizing that he hates everything about fire nation hegemony and that he wants to end his father’s reign of terror, like that isn’t exactly someone who is going to be well esteemed by the powerful elites when he returns and takes the throne.

and I disregard the comics because they suck lol but zuko does have power as the fire lord, but he limits his power. like compared to ozai, phoenix asshole? azula? for the rest of the world, zuko is kind of an ideal leader for a former colonizing/imperialistic nation to have - someone who worked to end that tyranny, who is anti-imperialist, who believes in justice and equality, who wants to make things right for the peoples who his family oppressed.

I do think it is important to talk about power dynamics and imbalances in relationships - for instance, one could argue that mai is at a significant disadvantage in her relationship with zuko. sure she is from a powerful family but not as powerful as zuko’s. sokka? hah forget it. he’s just as disadvantaged as katara is politically speaking. toph? well, she’s definitely not as powerful politically as zuko - her family tried to silence her for years because of her disability. and oh, she’s disabled so it might be ableist for zuko to strike up a relationship with her when they’re both adults. forgetting of course that toph and sokka and katara and suki and mai are not going to be shy about their wants and needs, that these relationships are not likely to be coercive by nature of the show they’re in and the characters they involve. this is not bill clinton with monica creepiness. like, you’d have to write the relationship that way.

the only person who arguably has more political power than zuko is aang. I guess zuko can’t ever be in a relationship with anyone other than aang. and zuko’s family massacred aang’s people so I guess we can’t ship zukaang. now I know you’re not saying that, context matters. power dynamics are important. but you can’t take away the agency of characters - katara, who is essentially a princess, has agency and can choose who she wants to be with. strictly speaking, aang is more powerful than anyone in terms of political power - he’s the avatar - and of course the dynamic is different by nature of aang not being from a line of oppressors, but there still is a power imbalance in their relationship. and I don’t know how many k/ataang shippers have discourse~ on that. not that I really feel like they NEED to, um idk what they talk about lol I’m not in those circles.

3. fire lady katara is in the eye of the beholder

so fire lady katara is not inherently bad or racist, it’s essentially like saying michelle obama shouldn’t have been first lady of the us (now I get that like the obamas being in power didn’t mean black people are not marginalized lol). you can have conversations about whether or not individual versions of fire lady katara are fucked up, and I’m superrrr open to that because I’ve seen it be kinda shitty before. i’m just gonna leave this link to @shewhotellsstories and her post on this.

but often times katara as fire lady is very dominant in global/fire nation/water tribe politics, she’s a game changer ambassador (that is probably the most popular headcanon I see), she holds on to her culture (and many fans have designed her being in her wt colors, zuko is respectful af to her, she and zuko spend extended periods in the swt, etc. like... it just depends on the way it’s written.

also leaving this response by @avatarnerdkiller to the idea of katara being a prize figurehead.

anyway, thanks for your patience anon and I am curious to see if you see this or even feel like responding after all this time XD

[theicequeenwrites]

Day 4: Relationships with the Gaang

Because I liked both of these prompts but didn't have enough time to make two pieces, I combined both of today's prompts from @atlaocweek This is lengthy, so most of this is under the cut!! read sister, sister on ao3

-taio meets the gaang at a confernece in ba sing se after being invited by sokka and zuko when they meet at an obscure bar

keep reading for their dynamics!

Katara

-taio and katara actually get along right away, despite what everyone thought would happen

-they're both down to earth but competitive and ruthless when necessary

-when he first moved to the palace, katara gave him some hints on surviving in court and gave him a messenger hawk so they could always talk to each other

-the first time he and azula were in charge of her kids though, she threatened him so hard he blushed for an hour afterward

-when azula and taio revealed they were in a relationship, she gave him the shovel talk

Aang

-aang and taio often team up with sokka to pull the best pranks of the rest of the gaang

-taio converts to being vegan because he falls in love with all the air nomad foods aang makes for him, he can't get enough of it

-he tries to teach aang how to write earth kingdom characters for an official meeting and aang ends up writing a very offensive message

-so taio ends up being the avatar's official earth kingdom translator as well as a teacher to their heiresses of the fire nation (and uncle to the kids of the avatar, which just baffles his mind)

Toph

-toph and taio understand each other on a deep level, they both had lives forced on them because of the war but in very different ways

-toph was the first to realize he had feelings for azula, because of her ability to sense heartbeats, and named herself as his best friend from that point out

-taio's the only person who knows who the father of toph's children are and she helps him formulate the perfect first date for azula

-he takes her back to the farm, and his mom immediately adopts her, making her all her favorite earth kingdom foods but with much more love than she's used to

Suki

-taio and suki didn't see much of each other in his early years in the palace because she was always at kyoshi island or training new recruits, but when they finally do actually spend time together, they get along in a quiet way

-some times they get drunk on traditional earth kingdom liquor, the type no one else can stand, and don't say a word, they're just there for each other

-slowly, after years and years of companionship, they start confessing small things, which turns into big things

-they don't go out of their way to hangout with each other, and aren't the first letter they send when something big happens, but they're still just as close

Sokka

-sokka and taio are brothers-in-law of sorts, they're married to zuko and azula respectively, and see a lot of each other. they have a dep respect for each other; taio can only imagine how hard it is to be a political figure and sokka can't imagine spending everyday surrounded by varying amounts of children

-but also they understand what its like to be married to a child of ozai, and everything that comes with it -the nightmares and guilt and bad habits

-they like to do random things together (like inventing cameras), cause absolute havoc, and spoil the the kids, they're the only members of the fire family ever to have limits placed on their spending because they get so excessive

-they also make a lot of public appearances together as "the husbands" and spend a lot of time fine tuning their politiking together and trying not to crack up when people are watching

Zuko

-zuko actually loves taio, he thinks he's the best guy he's ever met (besides sokka, obviously), he admires his openness and confidence, two things zuko still struggles with. and he loves how well he gets along with senna and izumi + all the other kids

-he thinks he's the perfect match for azula too. even after her 'redemption' and growth she's still wild and competitive and brash, and taio can match her or ground ehr when necessary

-zuko and taio share an interest in tea, and are often accosted by iroh and new blends that are a toss up in flavor

-as much as taio and sokka bond over being the trophy husbands, taio and zuko bond over being the sane husband and often watch their spouses go on wild adventures or do crazy stunts (like invent the first flame thrower)

+Azula

-taio wasn't looking to fall in love when he went to the palace, it was just a job. but then the 'unofficial royal nanny' as azula calls herself was always with senna and izumi who he was supposed to be teaching all about the earth kingdom. and suprisingly fast, they became good freinds, they just worked together

-during times when all the gaang's kids were in the palace they wrangled them together and then snuck away to the roof or the gardens to unwind together

-sometimes, azula would just fall asleep in his rooms and it slowly became a pattern. purely ~platonic~ cuddling. and the first time she had a nightmare when they were together, he had no clue what to do so he took her on a run, and ever since then when they can't sleep or have nigthmares they go run or hike

-and on her bad days, he knows how to take care of her, knows to just exist besides her, and not press for any more than that

-together, they cause absolute chaos on the palace, take in a plethora of young children and people who work in the palace that need parent figures

-taio never expected to engage with the gaang when he took the job in the palace, but he spends the rest of his life loving and being loved by them

[koiotic]

The Fire Nation becomes a democracy (maybe the real political restructuring was the friends we made along the way)

I have no impulse control so I wrote a thing based on my own post 

Tagging @dreyri-infinity-aldranaris because they commented on my original post and it gave me two years of serotonin 

———

“The war’s over.”

Katara blinked. “What?”

“War’s over,” Sokka repeated blankly.

“What?” Her voice cracked a little, but he just held up the piece of paper in his hand, looking a little dazed.

“People were yelling about it when I went to buy food. Apparently someone beat us to taking down Ozai.”

“Who?” Aang cut in before she could ask, disbelief clear on his face.

Sokka took a deep breath, then reread the paper in his hands like he needed to double check. “Zuko.”

Katara laughed, and she was aware it sounded a little unhinged. “No way.”

With a small shrug, he passed her the paper. ‘Firelord Ozai was removed from power by his son, the banished crown prince Zuko. The new Firelord ordered the removal of Fire Nation troops from all foreign territories and has started peace negotiations. There have been discussions of a large scale change to the Fire Nation’s governance.”

“This... This is... What?”

“This...” Aang hesitated, then glanced up almost hopefully. “This is good? I think?”

“So what do we do?” Katara asked.

“We could go talk to him?” Aang suggested, far too optimistically for her taste.

“Aang, he hunted us! This could be a trap!”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“Either way,” Sokka cut in, “I want to know what in La’s name is happening.”

•••

“We’re making it a democracy,” Zuko said for what felt like the millionth time. The advisors were still staring at him like he had two heads.

“But- but your majesty, we can’t ju- just do that!”

“Why?”

There was more spluttering, but no one seemed to have an answer. One of the advisors buried his head in his hands.

“Well, if no one has any more objections, that’s sorted then.”

•••

Sokka was honestly still expecting this to be a huge joke and/or trap, but no one started shooting fire when they landed in one of the gardens. The gardens of the Fire Nation royal palace. In the Fire Nation. Which was inhabited by firebenders.

But no fire yet, so that was at least a plus.

There was a very high-pitched “hi!” and then a blur of pink was cartwheeling towards them, followed much more slowly by a girl in black, who seemed far less enthused to see them.

“You must be the avatar, the waterbender and the asshole with a boomerang,” the girl in black said, a tiny trace of a smirk on her lips.

“The asshole with a boomerang?” Sokka asked, half offended half amused.

“Nice to meet you!” The pink blur announced, stopping in front of Appa. She was a girl, looking around the same age as the other, but radiating excitement and enthusiasm like her life depended on it. “I’m Ty Lee, and this is Mai!”

She slung an arm around Mai’s shoulder ignoring the other’s glower.

“Hi,” Katara said, a little faintly. “Uh, Katara, Sokka and Aang. We came to talk to Zuko. Sorry, who are you?”

“The royal guards,” Mai deadpanned.

“Cool,” Aang said after a beat. “Um, is Zuko here?”

Ty Lee shook her head, braid swinging around wildly. “He’s in a meeting right now, but you could come have tea with us while you wait!”

“What she means,” Mai drawled, “is that she wants you to get off the bison so she can pet it.”

———

As it turned out, there didn’t appear to be a trap. Ty Lee seemed way too enamoured with Appa to attack them, and Mai didn’t seem inclined to do much at all. The two girls led them to a table in an alcove and even sipped their tea own tea first; Sokka was fairly sure that meant it wasn’t poisoned. If it was, that was some serious dedication to killing them.

“Would you like some coffee?” Ty Lee asked.

“What’s coffee?”

“No idea, but Zuko’s been drinking it and he hasn’t slept in two days. It’s pretty good!”

“No thanks,” Sokka said quickly, before Aang could respond. He was hyperactive enough on good old fashioned sugar in his tea.

“So...” Katara said after an awkward pause. “Zuko’s the Fire Lord now.”

“Yep!” Ty Lee said brightly.

“Okay. Right. Cool. But... how? And why?” Sokka possibly sounded a little frenzied, but that wasn’t the issue right now.

“I believe,” Mai said evenly, “his exact words were ‘fuck it, I’m ending the war’.”

Aang blinked. “So he... just did that?”

“I thought you of all people would know that Zuko never gives up.” Mai shrugged. “When we were kids, I asked him for a knife and he spent three weeks making one from scratch.”

Ty Lee giggled. “We still haven’t told him she just wanted him to pass her a knife at dinner.”

Sokka was having a hard time reconciling the image of Angry Jerk Zuko with the absolute dork being described to him.

“You grew up with him?” He asked, mostly to have something else to think about. And also for the possibility of blackmail worthy information.

“We were best friends!” Ty Lee chirped.

“-with his sister,” Mai finished dryly. “Actually, you’re probably lucky she’s out at the moment.”

“Is she worse than him?” Katara asked, then seemed to remember she probably shouldn’t be insulting the new Fire Lord in the Fire Palace of the Fire Nation. Did Sokka mention the fire?

Ty Lee laughed again. “Azula’s great, as long as you don’t do, say or be anything that annoys her. Like talking to her too much. Or breathing too loud. Or standing too close to her. Or not telling her that she’s the best, smartest, most amazing person ever enough.”

“She’s a bitch,” Mai said blankly. “I like her so much.”

Was everyone in the Fire Nation insane? Was Zuko actually the most normal Fire Nation person they knew?

“She sounds nice,” Aang said, a little awkwardly.

“She is!” Ty Lee agreed. “She only threatened to kill me once today! That’s a record!”

He caught Katara’s eye across the table, and tried to silently communicate ‘what the actual fuck is happening?’. She sent back a helpless shrug.

Sokka had never been happier to see Zuko.

The new Fire Lord appeared a moment later, and Sokka almost didn’t recognise him. Thank the spririts, the ponytail was gone. Well, not really, but there was more hair around it. Looking at it no longer made Sokka want to pin him down and fix that spirits forsaken hairstyle. He was wearing what was probably Fire Nation royal clothing, but it looked like it had been at least a two days since he last slept.

“It’s a democracy now,” he said, and then seemed to process the three new people in front of him. “Oh, fuck.”

Aang gave a little wave.

“Uh, I’m really sorry? For hunting you and all that?” Zuko looked like he was expecting someone to kill him, and wasn’t strongly opposed to the idea.

“What do you mean it’s a democracy?” Sokka cut in, as the last few seconds started being processed in his brain.

“Oh,” Zuko blinked. “The Fire Nation. I made it a democracy.”

“Wait, you can do that?” Katara asked.

Zuko gave a small shrug. “Well there’s nothing to say I can’t.”

Sokka considered himself to be very eloquent. He was a smart guy, a hobbyist in poetry, and generally great with words. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Do you have a problem with democracy?” For a second, Angry Jerk Zuko was back.

“No!” Sokka almost yelled. “Democracy is great, but what the fuck is happening?”

“I... made the Fire Nation a democracy?”

“No. We gathered that much. How in La’s name are you even the Fire Lord?”

“I’m not the Fire Lord,” Zuko said slowly. “I’m the head of a democratic government.”

Sokka briefly considered screaming, then shelved that thought for a later date.

“How did you become leader of a democratic government?”

“Oh, I fought my dad.”

His head was starting to hurt. He had a feeling that wouldn’t be going away any time soon.

“Why did you just switch sides? You were yelling at us about honour like, last week.”

“Well I kind of realised that hunting the avatar was kind of stupid, and that I may have been misinterpreting the message my dad was trying to send.”

“Which was?”

“Well, he said ‘you’re banished until you find the avatar’ but apparently that means ‘I’m hoping you die on this suicide mission and I never see you again so I can make your sister crown princess’.”

And that... that was a lot to process. There was a beat of silence, then Aang chimed in. “Are you currently in the market for a friend?”

“A what?”

If Sokka had known all it took was a hug from a tiny airbender to render Zuko completely nonfunctional, the past few months could have been a lot easier. Aang practically vaulted over the table and caught Zuko in a hug, and the firebender looked rapidly between him and the others with a look of abject confusion.

“Great,” Mai sighed, “you broke him.”

Ty Lee perked up almost immediately. “Are we allowed to hug Zuko now?”

“No!” Zuko managed to get out, a little strangled.

“I’m your dad now,” Aang declared, clinging on staunchly even when Zuko tried to shake him off.

“No one is my dad!”

“Then I’ll be your grandad!”

“My grandfather also tried to kill me!”

“I’ll be your great grandfather!”

“That was Sozin!”

“Your other great grandfather-“

“Please let go of me.”

“Respect your elders, young man!”

“You’re, like, ten!”

Sokka glanced over to Katara again, but to his horror, he recognised the look on her face. “Katara, no-“

“Katara, yes-“

“Please, don’t-“

“We’re-“

“No, we’re not!”

“We’re keeping him, Sokka.”