#hed just kill you flat out for daring to try to tell him how to parent

[rando-lesbo210]

every time I look at Angel posts, there's a sharp increase of Jack posts on my fyp.

Jack is the last person I want to see when I'm admiring/missing Angel

[tigerdrop]

u know u could put out the weirdest most fucked up shit and we would still love it. obviously don't share stuff if it makes u uncomfortable but for every single thing you find embarrassing there's something several times worse

i really hope ur ready to stand by these words b/c im about to tell you about.......showdog dogboy gordon. for five thousand fucking words

look. listen. hear me out. my dear kogo introduced me to an idea and it has not left my mind since: showdog......dogboy......gordon

like.........you know.......its about. dogboy. submitting while benrey dolls him up and makes him look nice. maybe hes been a lot......fuzzier since he got forcibly nintendogged. and maybe benrey cracks a joke about it, maybe the joke gets pulled out a little too far. b/c its the two of them, and thats what they do. its jokes. games. jokes being riffed upon and thinly-veiled dares being issued until gordon freeman finds himself standing awkwardly next to a grooming table in nothing but his underwear while benrey tells him to chill the fuck out. puts that collar on him. after all, he wants to look nice for his friend, right? they say a dog is mans best friend

this definitely would not be the first time a joke or a game went too far and they ended up fucking at the end of it, but this is......this is a whole level beyond. this is definitely, like. theres a Lot going on here. but neither of them are breaking character yet so

and. you know. if youre feeling really insane. like me. if youre feeling just fucking diseased. you can make benrey.......pretty big here. make gordon dogy-sized next to him. not like, tiny, but enough that gordon, ordinarily a Big Guy, feels......small. a little emasculated

and.....yknow. gordon could be collared and chained to the table. like a real dog. not a lot of slack on that thing. and maybe hed be.......muzzled, too. if hes the kind of dogboy that gets snippy at scissors

its really good also for.....benrey being fully clothed and gloved up while gordons almost entirely bare. i know dog groomers dont strictly have to wear gloves. but still. not that it was really going to stop me if he wouldnt actually have a reason to wear gloves. i would make him anyway b/c ive lost all dignity

ITS ABOUT. THE HORNY FUCKING GAME. like they could talk about it if, if they wanted, if they were normal about it, b/c in this scenario they have absolutely fucked it out before (b/c i cant imagine any other fucking way gordon freeman acquiesces to this unless hes Aware that theres gonna be dick touching involved), but they are not normal and they are not going to break kayfabe even if it kills them

and like......i think the muzzle thing is......good. its really really good. b/c benrey can get real fuckin mean and tell him that hes gonna have to be a good boy and keep his teeth to himself if he wants it off so that benrey can make him look less like shit

those new canines of his are awful pointy. is gordon sure he can handle it? can he get a grip on his dogy side for fucking long enough to let benrey take a straight razor to his face? of course he can, he thinks, b/c hes not a fucking dog, okay, hes still a guy, and hes here to prove it and just. behave. while benrey manhandles him and grooms him and brushes out his fur and files his fucking nails. hes not in thrall to his instincts whether they be animalistic or vulgar. and hes definitely not going to cave and ask benrey to touch his fucking dick while he does this

> i enjoy the thought of benrey posing gordon as he pleases but never directly touching him, lifting his leg to get under his upper thigh or stretching the skin of his belly taut as not to nick him. so concentrated on gordon but feigning ignorance to his building arousal, ignoring it

> that art jordan did where gordon is on the table and has the collar on. his chest is shaved into the shape of a heart and that made me so DFUCKING CRAZY I STARTED BARKING AND SNARLING AKLSJAKDJFS

YEAH.....ITS......its shaved into a heart on purpose. and i left that in the first version i posted but nobody said anything about it so i just whistled and walked away

> LIKE. the emasculation of it....the fucking. possesiveness. theres also an undercurrent of like tenderness to it that made me fucking go apeshit

its such a fucking power move too. like. thats not gonna grow out for awhile. every time gordon freeman looks in the mirror for the next few weeks hes gonna be reminded of how fuckin debased he was

just..............consider........the trust hed have to put in benrey for it........benrey holding gordons jaw very firmly in his hand and showing him the straight razor and being like "yo.......uhh......this things sharp. dont wanna make a mess......better, better sit real fuckin still. sit boy. dont move." and sitting rigidly after benrey says something like that while tilting his jaw up to look directly athim is one of the hardest things gordons done in his life. hes sweating and hes making himself dizzy by trying not to breathe too much

he can just......he can see exactly where gordons jugular is fluttering madly under the razor and where gordons adams apple bobs as benrey skims stubble off his throat and rest assured that benrey is getting off on this just as much as gordon is

big......big hands on his face.....turning him every which way.......running his thumb over the clean line of his jaw to feel the results..........i think its just, its a cool scenario. to think about. but instead of this being just a normal "gordon freeman gets shaved" scenario, hes half naked and chained to a table and also has dog ears for some fucking reason

but also this is just like......his face. its the "trimming him everywhere" thats the really fun part

> like...the moving down his body....touching almost clinically by moving part of him around to get everything...yknow....

casual.....clinical.......nervewracking to be on the receiving end of

> thinking about him having to restrain his horny is fun, but it’s especially fun when you think about how he’d spend hours like that, hard and dripping, since friend benrey wants to be so through

> YES CLINICAL, ALMOST INDIFFERENT

fucking. hours. of just laying there anxiously running his mouth and laughing and gasping when benrey moves him like its nothing or touches him somewhere that makes him jump......like.......benrey with something whirring as loudly as those clippers in his hand doesnt exactly inspire confidence......but hes weirdly good at what hes doing and hes got a broad palm flat on gordons stomach to hold him in place/get him to chill out......but it just makes gordon sweat and flush and hes trying so hard to stay still b/c benrey keeps demeaning him when he squirms too much......like, what, is he scared? thinks benreys gonna cut his other arm off with a pair of hair clippers? get real. calm down maybe.

but thats not really the reason why hes acting weirdly ticklish about the whole procedure. (its because of the Scenario, man. gordons trying so hard to be normal in the face of the awareness that this is one of the most insane things hes ever gotten hard for, but we all know how strung out this dude gets at even relatively normal shit. so much so that benrey will just stare at him blankly and ask "uhhh, stop moving please? thank you?" b/c gordons so handsy ordinarily and he keeps trying to move his hands when he talks)

> listen. what if he....absentmindedly like...pet. him. on the stomach. just doing the motion cause it soothes normal dogs so when he feels gordon squirming he strokes heavily down. repetitive...but hes not even focusing on that, hes like intent on getting the part hes trimming just right gordon freezes up and stops breathing for a second to flush all over. benrey’s hand is so hot on his stomach, and he can only focus on how good it feels,

> squirmy because he feels like he’s gonna die if his dick doesn’t get touched and all his instincts are screaming to disobey and hump benrey into the ground (not like he physically can with the restraints but)

eventually benreys gonna have to get down to brass tacks and shave and trim all of him

> and like the whole time. the whole goddamn time gordons just in his boxers absolutely throbbing with it and like. benrey's hand moves to his stomach and like the waistband of  his boxers. yeah. all of him.

can you imagine. gordon freeman desperately trying not to be horny while his best friend kneels between his legs and hooks those fingers in his waistband and starts peeling them off and completely fucking failing at it but hes still gotta try, right. whether hes cis or trans this idiot is so horny that his underwear is just. ruined

> i still cant stopr thinking abt. in the pictures you drew jordan. the way benrey is. delicately touching gordons dick/pussy to get a better angle for shaving

Y. YEAH. ITS POTENT. IMO. gordon having to pretend like hes not fucking horny in the slightest while benrey just kind of clinically moves his dick around and laughs at him when it twitches......ITS A LOT.

> the amount of willpower gordon is exercising not to fuck up into benrey’s palm when he’s loosely holding his dick to shave all the hair around it is honestly impressive

hes trying so fucking hard. hes shaking. look at him. tail thumping weakly against the table

just......like......i was thinkin about benrey getting gordon stripped bare while he stammers and rambles because he is so very fucking turned on right now and hes so embarrassed by this that he just stares firmly at the ceiling and humiliates himself ranting about how its a totally normal response and plenty of guys get erections during prostate exams and benrey has no idea what the fuck hes talking about

> this was th. part. ...benrey ignoring his boner and his rambling like "yeah alright. stay still for this part though for real" and gets to work. gordon absolutely mortified but hes breathing real shallow cause he doest want to get nicked here of all places so. and benrey placing a hand on his thigh to push them open further so that he can get a better angle and gordon's leg shakes. its quiet until benrey says to himself "'youre bein still. 's good." and gordon's dick visibly twitches at that and he shuts his eyes quickly and turns his face away. also i was still thinkin,,,,bout how the little praise straight up goes to gordon's head and his tail might also thump a lil faster on the table.

> would benrey notice? probably. maybe not say anything at first but just let a real evil smirk spread on his face, laughing a little. and then say lowly when hes focused on his work, "really like that huh. lil dogboy. you like being good?" and gordon lets out a harsh breath, stomach jumping. doesnt respond but his tail moves even faster. benrey's wrist brushes the head of his dick and he lets out a small sound, which turns strangled then he actually takes his hand and presses his dick to the side so he can get right below his stomach. its detached, hes just holding it pressed to the crease of his hip, but gordon's dick throbs under his palm and dribbles precome against the gloved fingers

> Okay, so, part of the grooming process is, of course, bathing the dog. And luckily, Benrey has a wonderful tool to help him with this. A hand-held shower hose with a lovely little shower head with very nice settings to help our little showdog get... clean.

> Imagine, if you will: Gordon, on all fours and chained up to keep him upright as Benrey slowly, methodically, wets him down. Lathers him up. Works his hands all over his body, from tail tip to the top of his head. Massaging into his belly. Rubbing inside his thighs. Cleaning every part of him. Every part.

> And the shower head occasionally dips down, pulsing, right to a sweet spot between Gordon’s legs, the closest thing he’s got to attention the entire time they’ve been playing this game. He’s so close, so GODDAMN close to getting what he wants, but every time Benrey realizes he’s getting somewhere... ... He moves it. To spray his back. His head. His chest. Anywhere but where Gordon wants it.

> Gordon is shaking. His legs are trembling, the table is wet and slick. He’s having such a hard time staying up on all fours, he’s panting and begging and losing his footing and EVERY TIME he loses his footing, well, the collar and chain choke him and force him right back up. And Benrey is just watching. Grinning.

> Waits for him to get his composure.

> And does it again.

just......like.......jesus. gordon would be. shaking. his whole body. panting like a dog. trying so hard to stay still. but he keeps trying to spread his legs wider when benrey reaches his thighs and he keeps slipping and accidentally choking himself and hes nearly at the breaking point trying to keep himself together but benrey runs a big, warm hand along his side and makes a passing comment on what a good boy hes being and gordon almost fucking yells from how overwhelmed he gets

i want gordon freeman fucking obliterated. i want him to suffer first from benrey jerking him around and then being made to jerk himself around, trying and failing to keep his shit together.....and when benrey tells him sumn like, hey no, dont lay down........even if your arms and legs are shakin, you gotta stay up bro.......its so fuckin demeaning and gordon just spits out "im trying!" and benrey buries his free hand in gordons hair like hes gonna tug in retaliation, but instead he just scratches gordons scalp in a way that feels really fucking good and asks "you gonna bite? huh? gonna bite me? when im treatin you so nice......jeez, man" and that takes him back from the brink a little

hes just always keeping gordon on his toes. switching settings. dragging it out and making gordon shake from head to toe, sometimes putting on one of those real powerful pulsing jets to overstimulate him and make gordon yelp and just work him up into a trembling mess struggling to stay upright. snarling in ugly frustration when benrey yanks the showerhead away just as gordons starting to Get There. it feels like it must have been hours that hes been being bathed like this and teased from occasional glancing sprays with the waterhead to direct stimulation while benrey chuckles at him and just blandly comments "youre shaking." and gordon stammers out hotly "of course im fucking shaking, you keep fucking with me and i just wanna--" and benrey takes him by the chin and makes gordon look up at him and says, laughing at him under his breath, "dogs dont talk, bro"

ike.......at this point u might think "surely thats enough. throw the guy a bone." and that maybe, now, gordon freeman will get his dick touched like he deserves. you owuld be wrong. benreys not done here. gordons gotta come down from that table, get toweled off. and when benrey unclips that leash from the table, gordon just fucking collapses. his arms and legs cant really hold him up right now......hes being strung out like a violin, drawn to maximum tautness before being let go all at once just before he snaps.

and this is where benrey plays a little nice.......dries him off and blowdries him a little, brushing out his hair and his tail. hes committed to the bit, okay? he said he was gonna make his best bro look nice, so hes gonna make gordon look nice. this whole time hes letting gordon come back down.....and its......its kind of frustrating, if benreys just gonna decide to leave him like this and drag him outta here  and call that the end of the game, but its not the worst thing in the world right now. for the first time in hours hes not being asked to do something. he doesnt even really have to move his own arms and legs.

but No. hes still not done. theres something theyre forgetting........gotta clip your nails, bro. its the last thing on benreys docket, and gordons embarrassed for a different (but taxonomically similar) reason. all the personal attention and the bizarre intimacy of it makes gordons mouth start running, just to get his mind off it. pretend to be normal! surely thats gonna work when the guy who nearly gave him a nervous breakdown from being edged and toyed with beyond belief is now at his feet, filing nails and running curious thumbs over the tendons and muscles. benreys almost more lost in it than gordon is at this specific point. (hes been doing nothing but jerking gordon around and its hard work. he deserves this.)

gordons been good. really fuckin good. didnt even nip his fingers. benreys best friend deserves a treat.

> look. hes been so fucking good the whole time. not moving and not touching himself, not breaking the tension they have with each other, staying so still. i think he deserves something nice. but like gordon doesnt expect it, he expects to just be jerked around and let go. benrey tells him to stay on the table and he complains about it like "im done now. you. you said we were done" but benrey comes back with a fresh pair of gloves and gordon tenses until benrey places a hand on his chest and tells him to calm down. he was good. rubs at his chest and stomach, slowly pushing him down onto the table while gordon squeaks when benrey parts his legs.  hes mostly soft now but he hears benrey doing something and then rubbing a slick finger around his hole and he lets out a little "oh god. oh god. " that turns into a moan when he presses in.

> gordon's calmed down a bit but its goddamn embarrassing how quickly he gets wet again, dick throbbing a little. and i think. hm. i  think it would be very fun to do overstimulation in this way now too since hes been edged so much that hes actually fucking desperate to come

> i think he should be be fingered until he howls and comes like 3-4 times. he's finally finally getting what he wants i dont know if he would know what to do. hes probably embrassed as all fuck from the way he acted that whole time, but when he starts getting fingered all that stuff just blanks from his mind and its so, so hard for him to not just chase that feeling and whore himself out. the opportunities for whoredon dialogue when hes that desperate are like  saying shit hes cant even think about like "god - please f- fuck." and benrey's only got one finger in him but hes so wet already that benrey tries a second and it slips in easily. he crooks his fingers and gordon fucking keens, thighs shaking.

the fuckin. the agony in his voice when hes hoarsely begging benrey "do not stop do not fucking stop i cant take it" and just. slamming his fist into the table and being so fucking loud, oh my god, this guy is loud

> the thought of how loud he would be crazed me im just. just. him laying on the fucking table, eyes shut tight and moaning high and loud while he pulls tightly on his own hair, clenching hard around benrey's fingers

i think it would just be cool if. uhh. the thing that finally breaks gordon. gets him to just Let Go. is benrey catching him trying to choke back his words and his sounds and just laughs at him, like, "this is the easy part man. you wanna be a good dog? better, uhh.....better beg. cmon, boy. beg." and gordons hips jerk and the subsequent praise he gets when he actually does it makes him just.......snap.......Bye

> and what if.......benrey doesnt remove them as gordon comes down from that. he just waits a few seconds while gordons still panting and then scissors them and wrings a strangled sound out of gordon, whos hips move down again. and the heat starts building again in his gut and he cant even get out full sentences anymore, just bits and pieces while he fucks onto benrey's fingers. m. maybe benrey's growling out shit like "thats it, cmon. been good for me all fuckin day. you want more?" and gordon nods his head without even looking but he hears a thump and sees benrey kneeling between his thighs and he. licks up from where his fingers are to his clit and he just seals his mouth on it and sucks and that makes gordon come a second time, thighs clamping shut around benrey's ears.

i just......i lvoe......overstim.......and i think gordon freeman should have his pussy eaten until he cannot fucking take it anymore

maybe......even.......maybe after gordon comes a second time. benrey doesnt stop sucking and licking. at first it seems like benreys just working him thru the orgasm, but then he just keeps going. and gordons sensitive, hes too fucking sensitive, each time benreys tongue swipes over him he jerks and tries to close his legs. frantically gasping that he did it, okay, he got gordon off, voice getting high and broken, but benrey just pulls back and looks at him flatly and then very deliberately. spreads his legs wider in one swift movement. and pins them with his big fucking hands. and just looks him in the eye and says "i know, dude" and puts his mouth right back on gordon anyway. and gordons legs twitch like fucking mad but benreys so strong and he cant move and hes slamming his fist on the table again from how overwhelming it is, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, howling into the open air how benreys killing him, hes fuckin killing him, why does he like jerking gordon around so much........and benrey glances up and breaks the seal of his mouth around gordons dick and mutters something about how he must not be doin his job if gordons still talking

i want him to howl wordlessly with frustration and grab benreys hair and yank him closer as gordon rounds the corner from "the agony of getting sucked off when hes hyper-sensitive" to "the agony of chasing yet another orgasm". i want this dude to be tonguefucked until he wails!!! I Want Him Ruined. meat: massacred. pussy: destroyed. i think it would be cool if gordon freeman was wailing at him for more, dont stop, benrey, until benreys got two big fingers back in him and is squeezing in a third alongside them and hes so fucking tight from having just come twice in a row, but the groan gordon lets out when its finally inside him is so guttural and low it makes benrey blink and shiver

and i think that for the grand finale benrey should smash that dogboy pussy. thanks for coming to my TED talk

hes been going thru this shit for hours. taking his time to really screw gordon freeman up good. and its been so fuckin worth it just to hear all the fun new sounds gordon made (cuz of him, he reminds himself). benreys been awkwardly adjusting his dick in his pants for way too fucking long, and gordons been watching him do it. staring at it. saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth. he was achingly hard the whole time he was giving gordon a glorified pedicure. and he didnt even ask to shift forward from where he was kneeling to let the arch of gordons foot press against his dick. its been just as hard for benrey to keep control and stick to the rules of the game as it has been gordon, and this dude oughta get to crush mad pussy okay

> the thought of this is kinda making me insane actually so. im just. h. im just thinking about how it would go down like. augh. i think that gordon would be shaking from his third consecutive orgasm but like. he can keep going. and he finally gets a moment to breathe and look at benrey whos just a mess. hair messed up where gordon gripped it, red faced, mouth dripping with his own drool and gordon's slick and hes remembers like. this guys so fucked up over this, god. and hed been thinking about his dick the whole time, even though he thought he wasnt gonna get anything out of it for a while. hes been wanting it. and so like like he doesnt want to play any more games. hes been good he deserves this.

> benrey's still got three fingers in him so he kind of just pushes him back and breaths out "fuck me". benrey's actually absolutely dazed from everythin and has to process it like "huh. wh" but gordons like "just fucking do it, cmon. im not gonna say it again" and benrey finally actually registers it like. "y-yeah. okay." and he barely has any time to think before gordon's hauling him up onto the table. starts fumbling to get his pants and shirt off and gordons practically tearing at his clothes which doesnt fucking help. letting out little growls maybe like "fucking. jerking me around this whole time fuck you. can see how much you wanted it" and they finally manage to get them off and gordon pulls him on top and ruts against him. its finally now clicking for benrey that fuck. this is actually happening and he pushes into him with a low sound and gordon's thighs and tail go still and taut until he bottoms out.  gordon's fucking panting and clenches down on him and they both let out a little sound and benrey starts fucking into him slow. but cmon. this dudes been pent up the whole goddamn time. its barely any time before hes gripping gordon's hips and fucking up into him fast and hard, hips slapping against gordon's at a desperate pace. he probably tries to make it last but he cant, hes been edging himself too long. im going to fucking die see ya everybody

thinking about just how fuckin bad benreys legs would shake from the effort of pushin in reaaalll slow b/c gordons so fucking tight after having gotten off 3 times in a row.......trembling from the effort of trying to hold himself back......and gordons nails digging into the back of his neck and dragging down his back to leave long red furrows behind....... gordons eyes screwed tightly shut while the only thought on repeat in his head is "oh my god hes big hes so fucking big" and he can barely fuckin speak

> like yeah he had three fingers in him but this is so goddamn much. thinking about...gordon's hands clawing into back involuntarily from the stretch, letting out little cut off pants while his legs shake a little from it. i just. like the thought of his tail pointing out stiffly and trembling too. the absolutely wrecked sound he would let out when he bottomed out, all of that tension kind of leaving him in a drawn out deep moan. benrey shifts just a little to get a better grip on gordon's thighs and it causes him to yelp a little cause its so fucking much just from that movement.

> benrey's trying not to move but his hips are twitching from holding himself back and gordons letting out little. sounds that are making him insane. he pulls out just a little and that makes gordon let out a whine. and when he pushes back in gordon lets out breathless "fuck!" like its been punched out of him. even going this slowly is making him fucking shake like a leaf. hes squeezing his eyes shut tight heaving deep breaths, chest rising and falling fast. hes so full be can barely think. and benrey's just fucking stupid with cumbrain and hes saying all kinds of filthy shit like "h - fucking - so fucking good for me. so good. nnh. best. best friend -" and that makes gordon let out a whine. the praise has been getting to him the whole time and just. again with the loaded phrase of best friend. like the possesiveness of that. that combined with the near-overstimulation of getting filled makes him actually kind of lose it. his thighs clamp around benreys hips and his toes curl and pulls benrey's hips forward to make him thrust into him, so he stop going slow. bye. goodbye

[firelxdykatara]

Day 2: Hidden Identities

So this is a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short! (lol kill me my jokes suck) ANYWAY, this is for Day 2 of @thirtydaysofzutara and was heavily inspired by @artcraawl‘s amazing Zutara Mulan AU pictures. Some of it is directly from the movie, some is embellished, anyway I hope it’s a fun read, as I certainly had fun writing it!

---

“I don’t know if I can do this, Tui.”

Katara gave one more half-hearted tug, but her father’s sword remained stubbornly embedded in the tree’s trunk. With a sigh, she flopped to the ground, thumping her fists against the hard-packed soil in frustration. Her companion, a silver dragon-lizard with impossibly black eyes, scurried up the tree and perched on the flat of the blade, tugging gently, but to no avail. “It’ll come out! You just have- to be- persistent!”

With a final tug, the lizard slipped from the blade and fell to the ground. Katara pushed herself up on her elbows with a groan. “I’ve been persistent! It’s not working! I haven’t even been able to get that stupid arrow out of the pole.”

“No one else has, either,” Tui pointed out, curling her tail over her shoulder and rubbing a spot of dirt from her scales.

“That’s not the point.” Katara sat up and pushed herself to her feet.  “They belong here. They don’t have to prove anything.”

“Neither do you, as far as they know.”

“Sure, and what happens when they find-”

“Who are you talking to, Tak?”

Katara froze. Tui scampered into the bushes with an alarmed squeak, and the moment stretched uncomfortably, as the woman tried desperately to convince herself that voice belonged to someone—anyone­—else. It didn’t work; she was pretty sure she could feel his amber gaze burning holes into her back.

He had the disconcerting ability to make her feel like he could see right through her façade—through the warrior she was trying to be, to the scared, homesick girl beneath.

Time sped up again, and Katara turned to look at Zuko, who was standing behind her with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

“Uh…” she began, before realizing her voice was pitched too high, coughing to cover it up. “No one! I’m just, talking to… myself…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand (mostly to hide the fact that she kept reaching for a lock of hair that just wasn’t there anymore). Her eyes slid to her sword, still sunk into the tree trunk, about the same time Zuko’s did. Disapproval radiated from his lithe form in waves, and Katara had to fight back the nervous laughter that kept threatening to bubble up.

“Oh, this is… I was just training…” she said, grabbing the hilt tightly in both hands. It still refused to move, and she braced herself with one foot on the trunk. Finally, with an almighty yank, the sword came free, and the momentum sent her careening off-balance.

Zuko ducked just in time—the blade passed a hair’s breadth over his head.

“Oops,” Katara muttered, giving a weak chuckle as she clumsily shoved her sword back into its sheath. “Cut it a little close there-” Spirits, Katara, stop talking.

The captain looked less than impressed as he straightened back up, looking at her with some emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t quite describe. Then he sighed, shaking his head. “Pack up.”

Something churned unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach. “What?”

“Go home. You’re through here, Tak. I’ve tried my best, but you just aren’t suited for war—not in my company. And if you’re the best that Chief Hakoda could send in his own stead-” He broke off, squaring his shoulders. “You’d be more of a danger to your own comrades than the Fire Nation soldiers. And I won’t have good men, even you, needlessly killed because they weren’t ready.”

Katara watched as he walked away, trying very hard to keep from noticing the way his muscles had tensed (probably from anger) beneath the thin padding of his training vest. “He’s right. I know he is. But…”

Tui poked her head out of the bushes. “But you want to prove him wrong.”

A wry grimace twisted at her mouth. “I was too willful and stubborn to make a good wife, remember? It must be good for something.”

“So what are you going to do?”

The sun had set, the last of its amber glow receding from the skyline just as the full moon began to peek through the clouds. “I don’t know…” Katara murmured, gazing up at the sky—she traced the moonbeams with her eyes, until she caught one that illuminated the arrow still stuck at the top of that tall, wooden beam.

She could have had it down weeks ago, if she’d wanted to risk waterbending—but it was supposed to be a physical exercise. For all that she was at a disadvantage compared to the rest of the company (not that anyone but Sokka realized it), the last thing she wanted to do was prove herself by cheating. But there had to be some way to get to that arrow. And maybe, if she got it down herself…

 Hours later, the only thing preventing her from screaming in frustration was the fact that Zuko’s tent was only ten feet away. “Come on,” she grunted, taking another running jump at the pole—and, as before, she made it a few feet before falling to the ground in an ungainly heap.

She might have had a better chance at getting higher, if not to the top, if it weren’t for the weights at her wrists. Katara picked herself up for the thousandth time, dropping the weights and dusting herself off. (It was a good thing her family didn’t seem to have the ‘quitter’ gene, or she might have contemplated just leaving, like she’d been told.) She couldn’t help the nagging feeling that there was something about this exercise that was missing, that she just didn’t understand. She picked up the weights again, holding them in front of her, inspecting the etchings in the gold. It was an ancient form of Earth Kingdom script, and she could only make out a few letters.

Somehow, she doubted anyone had carved a cheat sheet onto these things a thousand years ago, anyway.

But as the weights swayed gently on their leather ties, something occurred to her—it was so simple she could almost kick herself for not thinking of it sooner. It was so obvious. It wasn’t just about having to struggle against the weight. It was about discipline and strength—using them to her advantage.

Squaring her shoulders, Katara faced the pole again—this time, when she jumped, she swung the weights, tangling the leather ties together, and she began to climb.

Halfway up, she almost wanted to let go, forget the whole thing. Her arms were screaming in protest, and she kept slipping even as she gained inches in height—sweat was streaming down her face in small rivers, and she could feel her tunic sticking to her back. The cotton binding around her breasts was beginning to itch something fierce. But she had already gotten too far to quit, and so she kept going—gaining inches and losing centimeters, until she could see the top of the pole. She could almost reach out and grab that arrow.

The sun began to peek over the horizon once more, and Katara gasped for breath, her muscles screaming in agony as she grabbed the top of the pole and finally pulled herself up. It was a deceptively wide beam of wood, in fact, and easy enough to perch on was she grabbed the arrow in one tender hand and pulled it free.

It was only when the cheering began that she realized she’d drawn a crowd.

A tired grin crossed her face, and she subtley bent some of her sweat, coating the arrow-head with a thin layer of ice. Just as Zuko’s tent flap opened, she threw the arrow down—it landed with impressive accuracy, thudding into the ground at his feet as he stepped out. He looked up at her, and while it was difficult to tell from how far away she was, Katara almost thought he looked proud.

 ---

 “I’m sorry. About your uncle.” Katara winced inwardly—she kept forgetting to pitch her voice low enough, but Zuko didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at the fire; if he’d heard a word she said, he didn’t indicate it. Which was almost a relief—she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get into a conversation about lost loved ones and not accidentally blow her own cover.

Sokka had been helping as much as he dared, once he’d realized her plan, but there was only so much he could do to keep her from ruining everything with her ‘stupid girly habits’.

Apparently, talking about feelings qualified.

Either way, Zuko clearly wasn’t in the mood for company. Katara turned to go—if she hadn’t already become so tuned to the tenor of his voice, for reasons she couldn’t even begin to explain, she might have missed it entirely when he said, “Thank you, Tak.”

She stopped, glancing back at him—he was giving her at least an attempt at a smile, and it suddenly struck her how very young he looked. Especially for a captain.

He really couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than she was, and it was hard enough for her to manage to keep her own life straight—she couldn’t imagine what it was like trying to lead an entire company.

She opened her mouth to say something else—she wasn’t quite sure what, but since when had thinking ever stopped her from blurting out what was on her mind?—when she heard the screech of a bird of prey high in the sky above them. It sounded familiar, almost… almost like…

She was six years old, and the snow had turned grey from falling ash. Buildings burned, people were screaming and running away, bursts of fire from soldiers in the streets kept illuminating the overcast sky, and Katara couldn’t find her parents.

“Mama!” she shouted, tears streaking through the soot stains on her face, running towards her house. Everything was chaos, but she still knew home. Somewhere, high in the sky, a fire hawk screamed—the little girl could see it circling over her family’s hut, an omen she couldn’t quite comprehend.

When she opened the door, the smell of charred flesh nearly knocked her off her feet. It was-

“The Fire Nation!” Katara heard herself shouting, those last images from her memory still superimposed over her vision, the smell sticking to her all these years later. She wanted to gag, but there was no time. “They’re here! They-“

An arrow whistled through the air and into Zuko’s shoulder as he stood, knocking him flat.

“Zuko!” Katara rushed to his side as more arrows floated into view just over the snowy hilltop—he waved her off, pulling the arrow free with a grunt and clambering to his feet.

“Everyone, get out of their range! Grab the cannons!”

It was pure chaos, after that. Zuko’s company scattered—they grabbed armloads of cannons and their weapons and ran, forcing the Fire Nation soldiers to abandon their high ground advantage if they wanted to do any real damage. Out of range of the arrows was also out of range of their firebenders, and it took everything Katara had not to panic and freeze.

“Sokka!” The relief nearly knocked her over, but she held her ground, grabbing for her brother’s hand and yanking him out of the way of another arrow barrage. “Where’s Zuko? Is he-”

“He’s fine! We need to set up these canons, Tak. Now!”

Their answering barrage sent shockwaves rippling through the ground—when they were down to the last cannon, Zuko appeared behind them. “Hold- we don’t know who’s left. If…”

He trailed off. The smoke cleared, and revealed the bulk of the Fire Nation army still intact on the hillside.

Ozai was at the army’s head. Katara could feel his smug smirk from here.

“Sokka, take that last canon. Hit Ozai, if it’s the last thing you do!” Zuko commanded. “Men- prepare for a fight!”

Katara’s hand went to her sword hilt, but something was still bothering her. Taking out Ozai wouldn’t decimate the Fire Nations forces—they’d keep coming, they’d kill everyone. How many more villages would suffer the way Omashu had? The way her tribe had? The way-

She caught sight of the snow-covered mountain just behind them. They weren’t going to have time to retreat back through the mountain passes to safety, but maybe, if she could only just… She reached, but nothing. Practicing her bending in secret had only gotten her so far, and that snow was too far off. But…

“Give me that!” She pushed Sokka aside and grabbed the cannon. It would work. It had to.

 ---

 Katara was beginning to lose feeling in her arms. She hadn’t realized Ozai’s blade had cut that deep, but now Koda’s saddle was soaked in her blood, and she had barely been able to muster the strength to grab Zuko and pull him to safety.

The avalanche had stilled, snow wiping the last traces of the Fire Nation army away, and Katara finally slid from her horse’s back, stumbling to her knees. Zuko had regained consciousness, and he rushed to her side. “Tak! Are you alright?”

She gripped his arm and pulled herself upright, nodding weakly. “I’m fine, is everyone else-”

“We made it, Tak,” Toph said, affectionately thumping her shoulder. “Thanks to you. That was brilliant.”

The others chimed in, and Katara smiled, for just a moment. And then she collapsed.

When she opened her eyes, she recognized the colors of the medical tent above her cot. For a moment, Katara was dazed, confused—how had she gotten here? Where were Zuko, Sokka and the others? How-

Her clothing had been removed. The breast binding wraps were visible, overlapping the bandages around her abdomen. The doctor was looking at her, perhaps to be sure she was truly awake, but when she opened her mouth to speak, he turned away and left the tent.

Katara sat up quickly, wincing at the tight feeling of the wound in her stomach, wanting to protest—but then Zuko stepped inside, and the words died in her throat.

It was then that she realized her hair was loose—the thick, dark brown waves that just brushed against her shoulders were much more visibly feminine now that she no longer wore them in her father’s hairstyle, and the breast wraps had only been effective at hiding her figure when covered by padding and armour. Now, she felt her cheeks burn as Zuko’s eyes followed her figure, and realized the truth of what the doctor had obviously told him.

“So it’s true,” came Long Feng’s voice as he entered the tent behind Zuko. Where the latter’s gaze was completely unreadable, Long Feng didn’t bother to disguise his disgust. He surged forward, grabbing Katara by the arm and dragging her out of the tent, throwing her into the snow with just her blanket for cover. She fell to her knees before the rest of the company, tears of humiliation freezing to her lashes before they even had a chance to fall.

“A woman,” Long Feng hissed. “A despicable traitor to our great kingdom!”

Toph and Aang stared in shock. Sokka started forward, but Katara shook her head. It was too late for her, but she would not let her brother take the fall, too. “My name is Katara. I only came here to save my father-”

“More lies!” Long Feng insisted, turning to glare at her as Zuko approached. “Devious snake!”

“I never meant for it to go this far!” Her eyes met Zuko’s, and she pleaded with him silently. Please understand. “You have to believe me! I only wanted-”

“Silence!” Long Feng shouted.

Sokka ran forward. “Wait! You can’t do this—she’s my sister!”

“Sokka, no!”

But the damage was done. “You knew about her deception?” Long Feng was practically quivering with rage. “Stand aside, boy, or you will share in this traitor’s fate!”

“Sokka, please-”

He refused to budge. Katara could still see Zuko, staring at the both of them now, sword in hand. He took a step forward, and several gasps ran through the company—Toph and Aang looked ready to rush to their defense, but Long Feng threw his arm out and stopped them. “You know the law!”

For just a moment, Katara met Zuko’s eyes, and thought she saw something flickering in their depths. Something other than anger or disgust. Something warm.

Then it was gone, and Zuko threw his sword to the ground. “A life for a life,” he said, staring down at her. “My debt to you is ended.” Finally, as if only now realizing he was there, Zuko looked at Sokka. “Take her home. Don’t bother coming back.”

He turned on his heel—Long Feng made a noise, as if he were about to protest, but Zuko turned on him with a glower that could’ve melted steel. The advisor finally cowed into silence, he turned to the rest of his men and motioned for them to move out.

 ---

 “You trusted Tak. Why is Katara any different?”

“You stole my victory.” “No! I did!” “… The soldier from the mountain!”

“She’s a woman, and from the water tribes! She’s not worth protecting!”

“I have heard all about you, Katara of the Water Tribes. You followed your brother off to war—stole your father’s armour and ran away from home. You impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Earth Kingdom, and… you have saved us all.”

 It was… surreal. That was the only way Katara could describe the feeling that overtook her, when she realized that not only was the Earth King bowing, but so was the entirety of Ba Sing Se. As far as the eye could see, citizens were stooping low, and it was all but impossible to believe they were honoring her.

Even Zuko was bowing—even her brother. She wanted to tell them all to stand up, that she really hadn’t done anything that extraordinary, but she didn’t want to risk losing the King’s good faith. The moment eventually passed, anyway, and Katara turned to find the Earth King smiling warmly at her.

“I would be honored if you would accept a seat on my council, Katara,” he said—Long Feng looked like he was about to faint.

“B- but sir, you can’t just- there are no positions open!”

“Alright. You can have his job.”

This time, he did faint. Katara had to smother a chuckle before taking a deep breath and shaking her head. “You honor me, your majesty, but… I think it’s time for me to go home.”

He nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less of her.

The Earth King gave her his medallion and Ozai’s sword, and when Katara finally turned to go, she very nearly ran right into Zuko. “Oh! Zuko, I-”

“Katara-” he began, at the same time. They both broke off; Katara bit her lip, waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat. “I, uh- you fight good. Well! Proficiently, you- you’re an excellent soldier.”

Their eyes met, but Katara was the first to look away, this time. “Oh. Thank you, Zuko. For everything.” And then she left, finding Koda and pulling herself into his saddle to begin the long journey home.

“You don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty,” the Earth King declared—sounding very much like he was calling Zuko an idiot.

 “Would you like to stay for dinner?” From a distance, Katara could hear Grandma Kanna’s voice, “Would you like to stay forever?!” Zuko laughed. “Dinner would be great.”