#i feel like sokka would be the most aware of how the cold kills and that you shouldn't leave someone to die like that

[paramouradrift]

Forced to choose

@febuwhump

Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender, Pairing: Zukka Modern AU in which Zuko is the captain of the fencing team.

You have thirty seconds in which to read the fic below the cut or follow this link to AO3, or I start killing hostages.

Sokka sat on his bed wrapped up in his blanket, a blue cocoon with wave patterns embroidered into it by Gran-gran from when he was still in elementary school. He and that blanket had a lot of history. It had comforted him on a lot of cold nights, but he’d also nearly thrown it aside many times in his efforts to project manliness and maturity in all aspects of his life. Now that he was past some of that, he brought it with him to college. It made him feel secure, and that’s what he needed most right now.

He had before him a list of options, each conceived of in fits of blind panic and then carefully considered in the lulls of lucidity that bridged each one. Today, he had woken up, made himself a microwave breakfast, sent in his late assignments to his professors, and watched a few episodes of his favorite telenovela. Thus far, he hadn’t had a single panic attack. No heart palpitations, no shaking hands, no spikes of adrenaline. He could, in that case, look at the list again and make a choice.

Item number one: break up with Zuko. He almost crossed it out when he wrote it, but then the more he thought about it the more it began to make a kind of sense. He, Sokka, was still very much in the closet, and still working through a lot of issues that made him a bad boyfriend. Zuko didn’t deserve to deal with his bullshit, because Zuko was kind and amazing and deserved all the happiness in the world. Sokka wasn’t so arrogant as to think Zuko couldn’t do much, much better.

The problem, of course, was that Sokka didn’t want Zuko to do better. He wanted Zuko to do him.

Item number two: deny everything. His dad hadn’t directly accused him of being gay, and Zuko had said that the topic of them dating hadn’t come up directly. There was wiggle room there, and Katara could be counted on to cover for him as long as he didn’t do anything to piss her off. If Zuko came with them on their summer vacation, they could maintain strategic ambiguity until Zuko went home. Sokka would be able to explain away any slip-ups, and his family wouldn’t be any the wiser. And if anyone asked him directly? He wasn’t above lying through his teeth.

Of course, this strategy had failed before and caused him and Zuko a lot of trouble already. So that wasn't ideal.

Item number three: just come out already. It was out of the question. Sokka was not prepared, not mentally or emotionally, for his cousins ragging on him for being gay. Actually, even if they didn’t, he wasn’t prepared for them ragging on him for being a sad closeted loser who wasn’t worth dating. And they would rag on him, one way or the other. As far as he was aware, he wouldn’t be the first…well, he wasn’t gay, but he was dating a man, so what was the difference in their eyes? Whatever, he wouldn’t be the first not-straight person in his family. But with how tight-knit they all were, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, Gran-gran and the other elders, every little detail was a potential piece of ammunition. A possible weakness.

Sokka wasn’t like Katara, who could fight their cousins and earn their respect. If he fought and won, he’d get in trouble and they’d get revenge. If he fought and lost, he’d get ridiculed. The only way to win was to do so before the battle began. But coming out didn’t end the battle, not by any means.

Sokka sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes. He hated this. This fear that gripped his heart and paralyzed his mind. He had to do something. The cat was out of the bag! Not making a choice would just mean that someone else would decide whether him being not-straight was a good thing or a bad thing, whether or not he broke up with Zuko or lied about their relationship. He put the list down and reached for a box of tissues to blow his nose. Then he picked up his phone.

“Hey, Zuko,” he said. “No, I’m not okay. Can you come over? I just…I need you right now. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do, about my dad, and this whole thing, and…and I can’t. I just can’t do this by myself. Yeah. I’m in my room. No, my roommate’s not home right now, I think he’s at football practice. Yeah. See you soon. I love you.”

[elkian]

i lied it’s more ATLA Time!

Specifically an idea that came to me last night: one where Zuko does not survive the blizzard after the Water Tribe sibs retrieve Aang.

Let to freeze? Katara hit that much harder? Refused aid while conscious and ended up dying?* You decide.

The key here is that post-Yue, Iroh is increasingly frantic trying to retrieve his surrogate son before the locals’ good favor runs dry. Pakku agrees to look because you don’t have time for this, Iroh, Dragon of the West, get out! And Iroh agrees.

And receives correspondence.

If Zhao survived the fish, he sure as hell does not survive Iroh.

(Remember, he was running when Zuko waylaid him, forcing him into a fight and essentially stalling him.)

Iroh is a smart man, and a wise man, now. He grieves.

He does not lay the blame, truly, at the feet of children forced to defend themselves.

Iroh goes home back to the Fire Nation, and deals with the one who is to blame.

Now we have a world with no Ozai, just Iroh and maybe Azula (Azula survived Ozai’s court - it seems safe to assume she’s smart enough to know whether she can survive Iroh’s). I’ll come back to Azula later.

Iroh takes the throne. What else can he do?

So now the world is thrown, the Fire Lord suddenly dead, the new one being the Dragon of the West and also suing for peace.

Does Iroh, the White Lotus Grandmaster, think of the Fire Nation as he moves forward? Or just of the world?

And, of course, for world balance what do you need? That’s right! The Avatar!

So the Gaang, likely short a Toph but plus a few invested adults, goes to the Fire Nation! Yay?

(They may not have really known him before, he may have just been a sidenote in Zuko’s attacks, but they slowly recognize him and you can SEE the dread sinking into them.)

Bonus: The Gaang flitting about the countryside (far from court), only to find that huh, Fire Nation citizens are people, too. And huh, some of them have been hurt by the war just as badly as anyone else**. And huh, things haven’t, um. Really improved for them. But the world’s in better shape! But also the Gaang finds themselves passing out cash and food to kids younger than them in what they thought of as an enemy nation, but world balance, but-

If Azula wisely bounces that leaves potential for her to come back and try to murderlize Iroh at any poetic point (neither the Eclipse nor the Comet have happened probably, after all). Even if you don’t subscribe to Azula caring about her brother at all, I think she’d still be pretty damn mad - in canon she doesn’t really seem to care about actually ruling so much as what it means for her and her family situation (she’s better than Zuko; and Ozai approves). I think she has plenty of impetus for some really creative revenge plots.

*This last option is best for Zuko possibly reappearing later down the line (and Pakku not finding a body means more for an Iroh who’s aware of just how borderline unkillable his nephew is...)

**While ppl from the other nations definitely suffered in great numbers and greater trauma, a world and perpetual culture of war is harmful even to people who seem fine (just look at Azula in canon.... She’s exactly what the Fire Nation and Ozai made her to be, a weapon in a 14-year-old’s form, and we know what happens to her...)

[patchofsunlight]

Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.” 

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted. 

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power. 

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too. 

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

  He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth. 

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

[jyndor]

I’m rewatching the Puppetmaster for ~research~ and ugh.This is such a good episode but I cannot stand the treatment of Hama and also Katara’s special bending ability. And I’m gonna talk about it because I can’t help myself. But I also want to offer a solution maybe something that the writers could have done instead. Granted I’m a white US American so while I am about to talk about imperialism, anti-indigenous racism and racialized misogyny, I am coming from a position of privilege here and ymmv. It’s important that we as fans (especially white fans) acknowledge the things that our favorite stories can do better so that we can make our fandoms safer for everyone.

And btw fans of color have been talking about this so I definitely am going to be quoting some phenomenal bits of critique I have read on here. Also you should follow @shewhotellsstories and @visibilityofcolor for anti-racist fandom commentary.

I am also going to talk about grooming, so just be aware if that is a trigger for you.

I. Hama as a Campfire Horror Story Monster

The episode starts out with the Gaang camping in a creepy forest telling ghost stories to each other. Set to spooky music, Katara tells a story about something that happened to Kya, a friend named Nini (likely) dying in a snowstorm and then haunting her family’s home as a ghost. Immediately after, Toph hears people screaming under the ground - and then Hama finds them and invites them to her inn.

Every so often, Hama says something spooky with the spooky music playing. Katara immediately takes to Hama, but the others (especially Sokka) find her pretty unnerving. Katara says she reminds her of Gran Gran before Sokka starts snooping around and finds a bunch of puppets and a comb from the Southern Water Tribe. It’s the standard horror movie fakeout.

Every so often we get an artfully placed hint about Hama’s agenda - pulling water out of thin air, showing Katara that “plants - and all living things” are made of water. And oh yeah, she makes herself ice claws. Cool skill, but in the context of the episode, a little more unnerving.

The “moon monster” that Old Man Ding mentions, the alleged Moon spirit, turns out to be Hama (of course) and the tension builds to a peak as the Gaang rush to save Katara from the “dark puppetmaster” that has imprisoned the villagers.

Meanwhile Hama and Katara stand under the full moon washed in spooky cool lighting with an ominous breeze around them. You see Hama practically transform into a monster in a way sort of reminiscent to a werewolf - her fingers become claw-like, her veins pop out. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s a coincidence that as she reveals her true agenda, she becomes less human in appearance. Which... okay I’ll get to that later.

While I can’t say that Katara fits the Final Girl trope very well, I do think it’s interesting to note that horror movies often do feature women as heroes who defeat the monster/killer/whatever and usually the Final Girl is used to allow audiences to experience the full horror of the villain, which absolutely is how Katara is used here. Yes, her friends come to help, but she saves everyone in the end (my queen).

So here’s why that’s bullshit.

Framing Hama as a horror story monster make sense when you don’t think about the Implications of framing the indigenous woman POW living surrounded by people who have benefited from Fire Nation imperialism. It does - it’s a common trope: the reclusive witch who first seems kindly to some lost/wandering children before revealing her true intention - to use them for her own purposes. Yeah, I know they’re playing on Hansel and Gretel. But yeah, I’m gonna call bullshit on that too - drawing on a c*nnabalistic witch for inspiration when you’re writing an indigenous woman character is probably not the way to go.

II. Hama the Puppetmaster* and Groomer

A puppet master is obviously a puppeteer, and Hama has puppets (creepy though they may be). But in terms of the underlying meaning, she’s a chessmaster, an Emperor Palpatine/Dick Cheney kind of master manipulator who works mostly through other people. What most people would consider a psychopath (in layman’s terms). When her friendly mask falls, she is terrifying.

She is cold, calculating, manipulative as fuck - she isolates Katara almost immediately. Hama uses Katara’s desire to connect with her culture to groom her to become a weapon. It’s actually such a good example of grooming that it has to be purposeful:

Targeting a victim - Hama hears that Katara and Sokka are from the SWT. She also hears Katara tell a story about Kya. To Hama, a waterbender from her own culture is a hell of a target.

Gaining trust - Hama reaches out to Katara in particular, is especially kind to her, gives her individual attention that the others don’t get. She prepares a SWT feast for them and tells the Gaang about her heritage when they go snooping.

Filling a need - so once Hama has given Katara reason to trust her about waterbending, she promises Katara to pass on SWT waterbending heritage that only Hama knows. She fills a unique need of Katara’s.

Isolation - From then on out, we don’t see Katara with the rest of the Gaang until the end of the episode. Hama seems like a normal teacher but she does start to drop little hints, pushing Katara very gently to see how she will react to her real agenda and desensitizing Katara to what would otherwise seem unacceptable coming from someone else who hasn’t established that unique trust. “You’ve got to keep an open mind, Katara.”

So this would be the point at which Hama would make sexual contact but this is metaphorical so that obviously doesn’t happen. What does happen is Hama pushes Katara’s limits. She makes her pretty uncomfortable with the idea of killing the fire lilies for water, but when Hama appeals to their shared history of marginalization she gets over it.

Maintaining control: Hama makes her final move, which is obviously bloodbending, and reveals her true agenda - and when Katara refuses to manipulative living beings’ blood, Hama violates her bodily agency. And not only this, but she pushes Katara into bloodbending when she victimizes the Gaang, fully realizing her control. 

Hama sees it as a victory, and telling Katara breaks down at the end in one of the most emotional scenes in the show. She feels like so many of us have felt at some point: violated, betrayed by someone we trusted. And then they never really deal with that.

I actually think that’s the point of The Puppetmaster, especially given ATLA being a show for children. I think it’s supposed to be a metaphor for csa.

And... okay.

Undoubtedly it is important to send these messages to kids. And yes, people usually are victimized by those closest to them, by those in their own communities. But not indigenous women. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but according to the National Congress of American Indians, Native American women  and girls are more likely to be sexually assaulted by non-NA men. 57% of cases are perpetrated by white men. Not the people in their communities.

Choosing to tell this story with an indigenous woman POW (who very likely would have been victimized herself lbr) is a choice that I find really aggravating. When writers tell stories with a Point, it is incredibly important for those writers to understand the implications of what they are saying about the characters who they are using to make that point.

Like I’m not saying don’t make that point, or don’t use Katara (who would in real life be at a higher risk of sexual violence than the others) to make it, but why make the perpetrator someone who is statistically unlikely to be Katara’s abuser? I’m not sure I have a good answer to that question. My guess is, like with making Hama animalistic and about as unsympathetic as it gets, the writers just had blinders on about the cultural implications of what they were saying.

Not even considering the whole victimizing-the-“innocents”-of-the-Fire-Nation-town plot, Hama’s not a good person. This is probably because she was driven mad by the need for revenge, which, eurgh okay, but still it’s very apparent that she is not interested in winning over Katara’s support directly or honestly.

* also the antisemitic history of this trope hmm.

III. Hama and The Victims of Genocide Victimizing Oppressors #NotAllFireNation

Okay. So this is the part that I think annoys me the most because it’s so bad. Like, imagine for a minute that you’re a white guy and you’re gonna tell a story about a victim of genocide who is completely divorced from her culture and homeland, and furthermore is an escaped prisoner of war who has radicalized in prison - okay it just hit me, I know what they MIGHT have been going for, like maybe some kind of anti-Gitmo statement? But that didn’t happen. People who were stolen away from Iraq and imprisoned illegally in Guantanamo Bay, and who were released after being detained illegally, haven’t really shown any real radicalization. They’re pissed at the US for victimizing them, but like that seems pretty fair considering so many of them did nothing wrong.

That’s been the US government’s excuse for not releasing innocent people who were detained illegally. The idea that prisoners of war radicalized in Gitmo so they can’t be released because they’ll attack the US is propaganda. I’m not saying it hasn’t happened, but that’s where it comes from.

Considering the time period ATLA was written, considering how much of it was inspired by the US wars of aggression and imperialism, considering how political ATLA is (and why it was so popular during its initial run - during the years that Bush lost a ton of popularity) I think if that’s what they were thinking about, that’s not great.

But for all of Avatar’s good messaging on imperialism and war, it’s still written from a white US American mindset. Well surely I’m not responsible, surely you shouldn’t imprison and abuse me, a random white girl in the States. It’s my government, which I cannot control because of two-party politics or some shit.

So first off, that’s shitty because oppression is often about systems, not individuals. Sure we need to always consider the individual experiences of people who are victimized, but the people who are benefiting from imperialism? Me? Fuck if I care if someone in El Salvador or Iraq or Chile or idk any of the countries we have meddled in, let alone from a marginalized community in the United States, hates white US Americans for what our government has done - and that’s even silly because white US citizens support our government. Like we think the institutions are sound, although sometimes we don’t support the guy in charge. We think the cops are going to help us, even though that isn’t really the case.

Why frame it about what she’s doing to the Fire Nation civilians at all? Why make Hama the villain? I don’t think they wanted her to be unsympathetic, I mean they tell her story and I don’t think anyone would conclude that it doesn’t justify her desire for revenge, but why tell this story through a victim of genocide?

Recently I saw a post by @sunkin-akh where they point out that Hama basically quotes Malcolm X:

I was literally just watching the Hama episode again and I just noticed for the first time that while forcing Katara to bloodbend she says that they must fight back against the Fire Nation (and she used this exact phrase) “by any means necessary”, which is Frantz Fanon’s phrase popularized by Malcolm X during the Civil Rights Movement (iirc). They directly compared Black liberation to Hama’s evil acts and it disgusted me.

The full context:

Hama: The choice [to use bloodbending] is not yours. The power exists. And it’s your duty to use the gifts you’ve been given to win this war. Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother.

Katara: I know.

Hama: Then you should understand what I’m talking about. We’re the last waterbenders of the Southern Tribe, we have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary.

I find that so appalling because it is framing resistance, specifically anti-racist resistance, as barbaric and monstrous. And given the way that Hama is portrayed at this point, about as inhuman as anyone in ATLA, that is extra gross.

Finally, after Katara defeats Hama, she is lead away by the authorities in CHAINS.

So now the FN cops are the good authorities who we’re gonna trust a SWT waterbender with? I mean she’s a villain so we’re probably not supposed to feel bad for her, like yeah sure the FN is usually bad but she’s a criminal so it’s okay that they take a POW back into custody.

No, no, no.

I know I am reading into this far more than the writers intended - but that’s kind of the point of critically engaging with media. Because shockingly writers don’t always question their choices - they are people and have implicit biases just like all of us. When those writers come from a privileged culture that has colonized the culture they are using as “inspiration” for their story, they need to be extra mindful of how they represent those people.

IV: How To Write Hama

Well, I’m not gonna talk over indigenous fans on this one on specifics, and you should read this rewrite by @kispesan​  but my thoughts generally are:

lose the horror framing it’s just not right for this context and this character

don’t frame Malcolm X as a villain because that’s nasty and racist

have Katara learn to use bloodbending in ways that she is comfortable with (and not just like once in one episode where she’s extra vengeful and the hero of the show doesn’t approve of her actions JFC) and don’t make the dark-skinned girl the only character whose special bending skill is dubious (I know she also has healing but still)

bring Hama home

have indigenous people in the writers room

Anyway, I’ve gone on wayyy too long. Let me know if I am speaking out of turn please if you feel that I am. and I’m sure I had other thoughts but if you want to read some other good pieces of Hama meta, I’ve listed some below:

post and another post by @marsreds​

this post and this post by @visibilityofcolor​

this post by @shewhotellsstories​

anyway katara is a queen and should have been allowed to heal, and hama never should have been irredeemable because if you can make iroh redeemable, if the show was going to redeem AZULA, you can make hama redeemable.

[retvenkos]

beneath the snow filled sky | z.

ATLA - Modern! AU, Zuko x Reader, fluff

tw: none.

word count: 1.4k

prompt: We’re going out in the cold for a walk, and I know you don’t want to get wet, but I’m trying to convince you to make a snow angel with me.

Snow fell peacefully above, spiraling down from the night sky as though each flake was a dancer in a beautiful balet, flitting this way and that, whichever way the music took them. (Y/n) watched the snow from their place beside the front door, their mind vaguely aware of the music playing within Toph’s house, but their entire being focused on the icy beauty of winter.

There was no breeze, and the weather was slowly turning more mild with the hopeful onset of spring; it was a perfect night to sit outside, in nothing more than a sweater and appreciate the wonder that such cold brought. 

They hadn’t been out for long when there was movement at the door, and Zuko stepped out. “Hey,” he said softly, rubbing his hands against his arms. 

“Hey,” (Y/n) echoed, smiling at him gently before turning back to the night sky, clouded and dark, but with the most beautiful, pristine snow gracing them from above, falling delicately before kissing the ground. For a moment the two stood in silence, (Y/n) noticing the patterns in which the snow fell, and Zuko memorizing the look of wonder in their eyes and the steady manner in which they existed.

They both thought, for a moment that was beyond time itself, that if the world were to stop turning, they could happily spend eternity right here, in the mild cold.

“So,” (Y/n) broke the stillness with an ease unlike any other, “did the others ask you to come get me? Because no offense to them, but I’d rather not suffer through another game of Monopoly.”

“Oh—” Zuko cleared his throat, pulling himself out of his daze “—No, not yet, anyway. Sokka wants to play Uno, but Katara wants to watch a movie, so...”

“...They’re not going to figure it out for another twenty minutes or so.”

Zuko chuckled in a way that was mostly breath, something like a cheerful sigh that brought a contentedness into his eyes and a casual grin to his lips. (Y/n) stuck their hands in their pockets, only now starting to feel a chill.

“Do you want to go on a walk with me?”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“Yeah, but would you rather listen to their complaining?”

“You’re not cold?”

“Not if we get moving.”

Zuko looked out at the frozen world that surrounded him: the snow, the icicles, the slick patches of ice where even the best of shoes lost their traction, and the frigid air. How any of it could be the least bit enjoyable was beyond him, and yet, (Y/n) could never get enough of the winter months, and whenever they spoke of its beauty, there was an earnestness in their voice that made him believe in their sentiment. Part of Zuko wanted to just go inside, sit by the fire, and watch the room devolve into chaotic arguing. Toph and (Y/n) would sit on either side of him, and they’d make sarcastic remarks until Katara dragged Toph into the fighting and things would escalate until he or Aang eventually intervened.

But a nagging part of Zuko (smaller, but incessant nonetheless) told him to look at (Y/n) in the eye, knowing that once he did, he wouldn’t be able to say no. It was odd, knowing that part of him no longer existed for himself, and the fear of that knowledge was enough to convince him to go back inside, but then (Y/n) shifted beside him, asking him what he thought, and he looked.

And there they were, smiling in a way that would have been self righteously smug, had it not been for the hopeful question that swimmed in their gaze. 

“Let’s go.”

(Y/n) smiled and the expression didn’t melt away but rather lingered as they set off down the snowy sidewalks, going nowhere in particular. Zuko rubbed his icy fingers together, wishing he hadn’t left his gloves in the pocket of his coat, back at Toph’s, and when (Y/n) noticed his fussing at a street corner, they stopped.

“Come here.” They offered their hands to him, and Zuko hesitated for a moment before putting his hands in their open palms. The rubbed their hands over his, and the warmth they generated was enough to send his cheeks ablaze. “You’re fingers are freezing! We really should have gotten coats or something before setting off - at least we both have sweaters, though.”

And Zuko couldn’t get anything out other than a strained “Yeah,” that made (Y/n) chuckle.

“C’mon, we’ll finish the loop around the block and then we can head back inside.”

(Y/n) continued to walk, but their hands never let go of his. Zuko found himself acutely aware of the feeling of their hand in his, warm and alive - squeezing his with care and something akin to... well, like the raging fire he felt in the pit of his stomach, but kinder, softer.

“What do you like about winter?” Zuko surprised even himself, and (Y/n) turned to him with an expression more warm than the last.

“Everything, I guess.” They turned their head to the heavens and a snowflake fell on their cheek. “Sure, the snow is beautiful and all, but it’s more than that, too. Winter it... it brings people together. I mean, when was the last time we all got together and played Monopoly?”

They had a point, there, but whether playing a three hour long game of Monopoly was for the better was debatable.

“The days just seem longer in the winter, and you find time for everyone you’ve been missing. Sure, it’s cold and most everyone is miserable” —(Y/n) eyed Zuko pointedly and he faltered— “but then you comes together to celebrate what little you have.”

They were back at Toph’s, now, and they faced the front door with a sense of reservation, as though neither wanted to break the moment, just yet. Zuko looked at (Y/n) from the corner of his eye, and they locked gazes. “You always have us.”

(Y/n)’s eyebrows shot up, their eyes lighting with something bright and pleasant, and eventually they settled. They squeezed Zuko’s hand. “That I do.”

Shouting erupted from the house in front of them, strong enough to rattle the windows, and Zuko and (Y/n) sprung apart. They both hesitated for a moment before laughing, the sound warm and from the belly.

“Do you think they’ll kill each other in there?”

(Y/n) rolled their eyes. “I’m sure they can sort it out themselves. Besides, have you ever made a snow angel before?” Zuko found himself caught between an exasperated laugh and some sort of stammered response, and (Y/n) snorted. “If you haven’t, then I demand to teach you.”

“I’ve made one before!” 

“Then you won’t mind proving it?”

“(Y/n), I’ve made a snow angel before!”

“Then come make on again! I promise not to tell Sokka, if it’s that damaging to your pride.” (Y/n) sat down on the snow, a challenging smile in their eye. Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but (Y/n) cut him off. “And don’t say anything about getting wet, because we’re five steps from the house. We’ll be beside the fire before you even get cold.” (Y/n) laid back, spreading their arms out and fixing Zuko with a pointed look.

“I’ve made a snow angel before,” Zuko grumbled, laying down beside (Y/n) and eliciting laughter from them.

“You’re cute when you’re angry - y’know that?” 

And Zuko was glad that they were both moving their arms enough to hide the way his face heated up at their comment. 

(Y/n)’s arms slowed to a stop, they were quiet as they stared up at the night sky above, once again lost in the beauty of it all. Zuko brought his arms to a stop near theirs, so that their fingers were just barely brushing, and he looked at them with a fondness that made him look peaceful - happy, even.

“You really love the snow that much?” and it was barely a whisper, but (Y/n) heard anyway. 

They turned to him, and fixed him with a smile that was more bashful than before, something that made Zuko’s heart beat faster in his chest, perhaps from the intimacy of it all. It was just them beneath the snow filled sky, after all, blanketed in the dark of night. “I love the company more than anything else.”

And Zuko felt his heart constrict in such a way that all he could get out was a strained “Yeah?” but it made (Y/n) chuckle as they caught his fingers in their own.

“Yeah.” 

-- taglist: @coffee--writes​ // message me if you want to be added to the taglist!

[kaeyas-wifehusband]

Forever Connected: Part 2

(Writer’s Note: Hnnng it’s finally here. I know I said this a dozen times already, but thank you so much for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy the rest of the story and have a good day!)

Part 1

Summary: As the current Avatar, Aang is aware that he is spiritually tied to all the ones that came before him. After a horrifying experience, he begins to wonder just how deep connections can be and if some bonds were destined to be made. (This story is based on the Kummi/Taang theory so please go check that out if you haven’t yet.)

The following day was equally bright and warm as the previous. Toph sat at the edge of the bluff, her feet dangling. She fiddled with some grass in one hand while using the other to rest her head. Typically, she wasn’t the kind of person to worry. Being down-to-earth was one of her best qualities. Yet, yesterday’s events still weighed heavy on her mind. Aang had always been a bit unusual, at least to her. Being both an airbender and the avatar made it easy to understand why. His strongly contrasting personality occasionally caused issues between the two of them. At the same time, it drew them together. They balanced each other. 

“Er, hey.” 

“Son of a-” she gasped, harshly jolted out of her thoughts. “Ugh, Aang, don’t scare me like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He chuckled and plopped down beside her. “Heh, sorry ‘bout that. Have you been waiting long?”

“Mm, nah. I’ve only been here for like...half an hour? Forty-five minutes at most.”

“Aww, you mean you didn’t stay all night? And here I thought you loved me.” he said, his voice dripping with obvious faux disappointment.

He was rewarded with a playful punch on the shoulder. Following that was “Shut it, Twinkle Toes.” 

“Ow! Haha, okay, fine. Jeez.”

He rubbed his arm and for a moment, there was silence. It wasn’t anything like the day before, however, or like any other time for that matter. It felt awkward now; heavy. Part of him considered just forgetting the whole ordeal. It would be much easier to simply pretend that it never happened and that everything would be back to normal.  Although, she would never put up with that. All those years of her drilling it into him to be upfront, to say what was on his mind, left a lasting impact. He took in a deep breath and exhaled.

“Look, about yesterday..I didn’t mean to freak you out-”

“Aang, you scared me.” 

A pang of guilt flowed through him. “Er, right. I’m sorry about that. I’m also sorry for just flying off without explaining anything to you.”

“As you should be.”

“See, the thing is...I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it then because,” he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t exactly sure what was wrong, to be honest.” 

She raised a brow and flicked some grass on him. “Well, that sure makes a whole lotta sense.”

“But I did some meditating and, well, have you ever heard of Kuruk?”

“Wasn’t he, like, the avatar before Kyoshi or somethin’?”

“Yeah! He immediately followed Yangchen in the avatar timeline and originated from the Northern Water Tribe!”

Toph sighed and laid back on the greenery. “Well, thanks for the history lesson, I guess. But how does any of that relate to your little meltdown? “Okay, first of all, it wasn’t a meltdown. Second, I’ll get to that part. Try being patient,” He heard her mumble something incoherent, then chose not to acknowledge it. Patience wasn’t exactly her virtue and she loathed being told what to do. He cleared his throat and continued. “Kuruk was, uhh, not exactly a good avatar. Not like evil or anything. He just...didn’t do much. Yangchen was apparently so good at creating peace among the four nations that he assumed he didn’t have to carry out any of his avatar duties. He didn’t uplift the voices of the needy. He didn’t protect people from harm. He didn’t promote harmony. Nothing.”

“Sure sounds like a real loser, huh?” 

Aang crossed his legs and looked up towards the sky. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Anyway, he fell in love with Ummi, a woman from the Southern Water Tribe. They spent a lot of time together. She meant everything to him and they later got married.”

“Oh, so THAT’S who you were yelling for yesterday.”

“I...I was?”

“Yep. Don’t ya remember?”

“Alright, there was a lot going on in that moment. So if I forget some details, I’m frankly fine with it.”

Toph shrugged. “Understandable.”

There was a long pause. Though Toph had her feet still hanging over the edge, she could sense a deep sadness within him.   Before she could say anything, however, he went on. 

“Then...something terrible happened,” he swallowed. “As some sort of twisted punishment for Kuruk’s inactiveness, Koh flat-out abducted Ummi on her wedding night and stole her face. Which ultimately...well-”

“Killed her?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, allowing the heaviness of the story to set in. Toph wasn’t one to feel affected by such tragic tales. This was different though. Not only because it clearly had a strong impact on Aang, but also because it felt familiar. How that was so wasn’t exactly understandable to her; not yet that is. Some part of her was able to not just imagine what Ummi went through, but practically feel it as well. (Shock. Fear. Despair.) 

“And yesterday, when we were hanging out, I think I sort of...re-lived that experience,” He turned his head towards her. “Because when I looked at you, I didn’t see you. I mean I did, but not the you that I know. Instead, I saw Ummi. Faceless,” He bit his lip and averted his gaze. “Dead.” The last word weighed greatly and hung in the air. 

“Wait...what do you mean when you say that you saw me but not really?”

He sighed. “It’s kinda complicated. Like, I’ll tell you, but you have to swear you won’t think I’m weird.”

There was a snicker. “Too late for that, Twinkle Toes. But go on.”

“I think...as wild as it seems...you may be a reincarnation of Ummi.”

It was preposterous. That is, it should’ve been. An expected reaction would have involved a hardy laugh or perhaps a jab to the arm; a “Haha. Aren’t you funny? Now stop being dumb.” most likely following. This wasn’t what happened, though. Her lack of surprise almost concerned her. All she requested was an explanation.

And she received one.

So he told her about everything. He told her about seeing her in the magical swamp and that he initially believed she would be someone he would meet, yet perhaps he already did in another life. (“Time is an illusion and so is death.”) Then he spoke of the anxiety-ridden nightmare he had shortly before battling Ozai. In it, she was not like Katara or Sokka. Their demise was swift and intense. Hers wasn’t. She was not consumed by fire or earth. Rather, she was cold, faceless. (“We see visions of people we lost, people we’ve loved, folks we think are gone. They’re not.”) Aang told her how, like Kuruk, he was passive. What made it different is that it was a habit he kicked, thanks to her help. She gave him what he needed; what Kuruk needed many, many years ago. 

“But this probably sounds like a bunch of nonsense to you, doesn’t it?” he mumbled, eyes cast downward.

“No.”

“No?”

“Maybe a few years ago, if you told me all this, I would’ve not believed you.”

“And probably laugh at me.”

“Oh, I’d definitely laugh at you,” she said while stretching her arms and sitting up. “That was then, though. This is now. Since we met, things that I never thought could happen, happened. I’ve long since given up on the concept of impossible. You’ve opened me up to so many possibilities and plausibilities…and stop crying.” She reached over and tenderly swiped her thumb across his cheek. 

“Hey, it’s your fault.” Aang half-chuckled, half-sobbed. 

“Pfft, my apologies. Next time I’ll just tell you to shut up, deal?”

“Deal.”

He looked at her, the setting sun casting an ethereal glow on her being. Golden rays beamed upon her, upon the scenery. The gentle breeze carried the scent of sea salt. In this moment, everything was serene. His hand reached out to her face, connected. She leaned into the touch. (Safe. Secure. Found) Being intentional, careful, he softly pressed his lips against hers. (Home.)

“I love you.” he whispered as their mouths parted.

“Love ya, too, crybaby.”

[runtedfiction]

Home

A/N: for zutara week day 1! i’ve only watched half of korra so i don’t know what actually happens in canon, only that zutara didn’t 😔

AO3

  *     *     *

Toph is the first to leave. Her final wave is larger than life, her smile brighter than the sun, as she and the Bei Fong security team kickstart their ostrich horses. “See ya later!”

Katara watches her go from the steps of the Jasmine Dragon, laughing and crying. 

“And so she sneaks in one last blind joke,” Sokka says, rubbing at his eyes. Suki rubs his back. “Those Bei Fongs better take care of her.”

“It’s ok,” Aang says, also wiping at tears. He slips his hand into Katara’s, a quiet show of affection that she knows everyone notices. “This isn’t where the journey ends!” 

“How can you be so sure about that, Aang?” she asks. “Sure, there’s lots of rebuilding to do, but I’m not sure if we can exactly do it together and—”

“We can,” Zuko cuts in. Though it’s been so long, she’s reminded of the first time she saw him in the Jasmine Dragon. But now here he is, hair down and shaggy, the happiest she’s ever seen him. 

“Aang and I can’t rebuild the world alone,” he says. A glimmer of hope takes root in her heart. “We’re going to need all your help. Aang and I want to hold annual Summit Weeks for the next three years to fully realize our vision of peace; we would be honored to have all of Team Avatar there.”

“Of course,” Sokka says. “No brainer, I’ll be there.”

“Me too,” says Suki. “The Kyoshi Warriors are honored to serve.”

“I’ll be there too,” Katara echos. So much has changed in the past year, and she wonders what will change in the next. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

   *     *     *

Katara, Aang, and Sokka leave Ba Sing Se for the Southern Water Tribe, and Team Avatar’s first year apart begins. 

Katara and Sokka set on rebuilding their home, bringing in new technology and infrastructure. They sit next to their father at council meetings, paving paths of future greatness. Aang sticks around for the first three months before he leaves too to restore the air temples. “Just like you’re building a future here for new generations of waterbenders,” he explains, hand on top of hers, “I’m going to do the same for airbenders. We need our homes back.”

He promises to visit once every few weeks, and Katara sees him off with a kiss. He blushes like he always does, and an overwhelming fondness fills her. Aang may be 113, but he’s 13 in her eyes, giddy to hold her close and call her his. 

After he leaves, Katara forgets the rest of the world, only remembering it when Aang comes back full of stories. But one morning a messenger hawk is spotted on the horizon. She drops her scrolls to sprint to it-- Zuko . They haven’t spoken since Ba Sing Se, and she fumbles with the red ribbon around the message, shaking with excitement. 

  Katara,

I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, and I hope you’re doing well. As always, thank you for doing your part in ending the war. I also don’t know how I can thank you enough for saving my life; every day I’m reminded in some way.

Now that I’m settled in, I want to discuss plans for the new era of peace. For the Southern Water Tribe, this means reparations from the Fire Nation and electing a representative as a point of contact for our interim council. I’m drafting proposals and will be sending them over shortly; please let me know if I should be sending them to you, your father, or Sokka. 

Again, I hope you’re doing well. The Summit Week will be a few months from now, and I hope to see you there. Write back soon.

Your friend,

Zuko

P.S. I know this letter may sound stuffy, and I’m Fire Lord now, but some part of me will always be the 16 year old rehearsing “Hello, Zuko here” and hoping for your forgiveness. Also, I hope Sokka’s not offended that I only sent this to you.

 Sokka sticks his nose in the air when he reads this. “I am offended.”

“Oh grow up,” Katara says, laughing. “Think about how great it’ll be to see everyone again soon.”

Will Toph be taller, or Zuko’s hair shorter? Will Suki and Ty Lee go to the Summit? And speaking of the Summit, what can she advocate for during it? Katara picks up a pen and begins writing a reply, daydreaming about seeing her friends again in the back of her mind.

   *     *     *

“Twinkle toes, I missed you so much .” 

Toph runs towards Appa and gives them all a hug as soon as they land. She’s a bit taller, and behind her is Zuko, hair a bit longer, who joins the hug as soon as Katara pulls him in. 

“Where’s Suki?” Sokka asks.

“The Kyoshi Warriors insisted on being private security for the event,” Zuko explains. “But Suki, come on out. Your boyfriend is eager to see you, no one’s looking to kill me here.”

“Suki!” Sokka runs to her as soon she slips out of the shadows, and Katara’s heart fills. Everyone’s together again.

Later that evening, Zuko joins them for dinner in their suite. It’s a curious affair--fire flakes alongside stewed sea prunes, cabbage noodles, and tofu. Sokka eats like a vacuum, and Katara is pleased that Aang has so many choices. She wonders if Zuko did research beforehand. 

“I hope you’ve all been briefed on the schedule for the coming week,” Zuko says. “And I know it seems like a lot. But rest assured that every event will lead to an action item on my docket.”

“And,” he continues, “it might be boring. Insufferable, even. But to the world, we’re one of the most important teams guiding things forward.”

“Don’t worry, Zuko, we can do it,” Katara says, and he looks at her with a smile. For the past few months they’ve exchanged letters about rebuilding the Southern Water Tribe (they’ll ask the North for funds too), outlawing bloodbending (Zuko promised to help), and the new name of the four nations. 

“The United Republic of Nations,” Aang says, digging into his sweet buns. “I like it.”

   *     *     *

During the recess of The State of Bending talk, Zuko finds Katara and places a hand on her shoulder. 

“People like Yakone are the worst,” he says. “But it’s going to be fine, don’t worry.”

“He’s pond scum!” Katara hisses. “I hate people who lie like that. And calling me not only a child but also a coward, with that look in his eye--Aang had to stop me from bloodbending him right there and then.”

“He’s pond scum, yes,” Zuko agrees, “but all you have to do is hear him out and make sure the interim councilmembers hear your arguments. I’ll back you up.”

“I know, I know. But still, pond scum!”

“Yup,” Zuko says, a smile on his face. “He’s cold ashes. We can take him.”

“You’re right.” Katara thinks of the times they followed each other into battle. This is no different; if anything, at least they’re not putting their lives on the line. “Thanks, Zuko.” 

“No problem.” His smile grows soft. “And as always, I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

He follows her back into the meeting room where she makes history, her eyes glowing with the conviction she soon becomes famous for.

   *     *     *

Almost two years later, after another Summit Week passes and just before the third one, Zuko sends Katara a letter that begins with It’s official! and ends with a copy of the new legislation outlawing bloodbending.

And in the middle of the Southern Air Temple’s training grounds, Katara jumps and yells with excitement.

Within a minute Aang is by her side, concern in his eyes. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yes yes yes!” She kisses him on the cheek, and he looks confused. “The Council passed that bloodbending legislation! Oh, Aang, this is so great.”

“Oh yeah--awesome!” He says. “I’m really happy for you!”

“I can’t believe it actually worked,” Katara holds the letter close to her heart. “I can’t believe it!”

“I know, this is so good for you,” Aang says, his voice a bit rushed. “And I’m sorry but—”

“You have to go tend to the Air Acolytes,” Katara says. “I’m not in danger, don’t worry! You can hurry back.”

“Thanks for always understanding,” Aang says, giving her a quick kiss. Then he leaves in a gust of air, and Katara sits on the soft grass, feeling the breeze.

Aang resists political involvement, citing the Avatar’s need for neutrality, so it’s understandable that he isn’t as excited as her. Aang needs to preserve the traditions of the Air Nomads, so it’s understandable that he can’t be with her all the time. Aang is constantly called to stop civil wars or investigate malicious spirits, so it’s understandable that Katara sometimes goes a week without seeing him even if he asked her to live with him for a bit. 

Katara understands these things, and yet some part of her yearns for the South Pole, for anywhere that feels like home. She’s acutely aware that Aang’s duty is to the world, and yet some part of her feels so small and alone. 

At least there’s this letter. It's confirmation that her work these past few years has been worth it. And if the rumors are true, the nation heads are working on a new permanent council to govern the United Republic of Nations. 

The era of peace is being fully realized, and Katara wonders how she can ask for a seat on the council.

A few weeks later, just as she begins writing a letter to ask her father if he could recommend her ( I know I’m barely 18, I know I only have experience with our small tribe, but I know I’m the best person for the job ), a message arrives. 

I’ve written to your father to ask him to nominate you for the Southern Water Tribe Representative on the new council, Zuko says. If I could recommend you myself, I would. If he nominates you (and I don’t see why he wouldn’t), prepare to defend that nomination at the upcoming Summit. 

Katara nearly cries, and Aang places a hand on top of hers. Even the sun seems to shine brighter; a leaf dances in through the window of the study room. 

“Is everything alright?” he asks. 

“Everything’s great,” she says. The thought of potentially moving to Republic City as a councilmember (and thereby leaving Aang’s side for some time) briefly flickers in her mind. “I have some great news.”

   *     *     *

The third and final Summit Week comes, and Katara has the daunting task of defending her nomination in front of the nations’ leaders. Even though this really only means speaking in front of the Earth King and Northern Water Tribe Chief (Aang, Zuko, and her father are also in the room, but do they really count?), this is turned against her. 

“Your father, partner, and longtime friend are likely going to vote for your approval. You already have three out of five votes secured. What do you say to people who claim nepotism?” 

“With all due respect,” Zuko cuts in, a bit angry, “this question seems unfair, and—”

“It’s ok,” Katara says, voice measured. “People are going to say this. And to that I say that my accomplishments in the Southern Water Tribe, from securing and using reparations funds to build our growing nation to advocating for all waterbenders, not just the men, speaks volumes. I also originated the legislation that’s now in place to outlaw bloodbending. I pushed for these initiatives with the help of the people you just named, but ultimately I did it.”

Zuko smiles. He remembers some old campfire story Sokka told about Sapphire Fire as he watches Katara talk her through every sticky question. She’s going to do great on The Council, no doubt.

She’s already amazing. 

   *     *     *

Katara sighs in relief when the nation heads confirm her council seat. 

Team Avatar celebrates over dinner. Only it isn’t a private room this time, like it was two years ago--this time around, it’s in the Fire Nation palace, in the biggest hall Katara has ever seen. Everyone invited to Summit Week dines together, the golden walls housing the noisy chatter of the most important people in the world.

Zuko prepared formal clothes for them tailored to their respective traditions, and as always, his quiet attention to detail never fails to amaze her.

“Tonight, we feast!” Sokka says, opening their table’s meal with a toast. “To my sister, who has never failed to be annoying and fight for the things she cares about. The Southern Water Tribe and the world are in debt to you, Councilwoman Katara.”

“To Katara!” Aang says, and everyone follows suit. Their glasses clink together, and Katara feels at home for the first time in a long time. 

Toph tells them about all the lies she’s heard today (“People even lie about the kinds of tea they like, how weird is that!”), Suki pretends to chi block Sokka when he steals food off her plate, and Aang and Zuko trade friendly insults about who’s taller. 

It’s perfect.

   *     *     *

Dear Zuko,

Thanks so much for your support in nominating me to the council. You beat me to asking my father for his recommendation, and your confidence in me means the world. For what it’s worth, the way you and Aang have been dealing with the newly freed Fire Nation colonies is incredible. The world is lucky to have you both. 

Moving to Republic City is going to be tricky, but I’ll be there before the end of month. I hope to see you there not only for my swearing in ceremony, but also for advising sessions. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon. Still kind of surreal!

Speaking of surreal things, I can’t believe you’ve been raising a dragon. On the one mission I was allowed to join Aang on, we found a herd of sky bison; they’re not extinct either! Appa’s babies are going to be so cute. 

And finally, speaking of cute things, I’ve attached a painting that an Air Acolyte child did of you. Look--the scar is on the right side.

Your friend,

Katara

   *     *     *

Moving to Republic City is tricky because Aang’s schedule collides with, well, everything.

Katara brings it up one night over dinner. “How is visiting each other going to work?” 

“I don’t know,” Aang says. He picks up some silken tofu gently with his chopsticks, careful to not let it split. “This next month the Southern Air Temple is pretty set, but there’s two more to fill with Acolytes. There’s still rumors of civil unrest in the freed colonies. Zuko said he wanted an Air Temple Island next to Republic City, right? Maybe I could stay there?”

“Zuko wants your supervision on it, but the Island might not be ready for construction for another year at least. What if you stayed in the city with me for some time?”

“I don’t know,” Aang says with a sigh. “There’s too much to do, and I think the Eastern Air Temple needs full restoration next to establish a spiritual home. I’m really sorry, I know this is your dream and I’m making it difficult.”

“It’s ok, don’t worry,” Katara says. “You’re the Avatar. You serve the world.”

“I wish I could do more for you too though.” Aang looks remorseful, and Katara places her hand over his. He hesitates, then asks, “Do you--do you think you could ever take a week off and find me?”

Katara pulls her hand back. “What? No. The Council has so much to do, I even just wrote this whole Constitution proposal, and I don’t think that I could just leave for a week without that having serious conseq—”

“Oh, yeah, wait, I really didn’t mean to imply that leaving your job to see me wouldn’t have serious consequences.” Aang grabs her hand, and she appreciates the quick backtrack. 

But it still stings. “Our jobs aren’t equally important and that’s ok,” she says, “but we have to figure out a system to see each other. Do you know a rough timeline of what next year would look like for you yet?”

“No,” Aang says, quiet. “Like I said, there’s too much to do. All I know...all I know is that I don’t want to feel like I’m losing you because you’re my forever girl.”

“Aang, you’re not losing me.” A beat passes, and she hesitates. “But forever is--forever is a really long time and I don’t know how to think about that, let’s focus on the next few years maybe--”

“I was trapped in ice for 100 years, Katara!” She can see tears brimming in his eyes, and it’s hard to comfort him when she’s the one doing the hurting. “A few years is nothing. I might have been trapped forever, if not for you or Sokka--I know how precious time is, but also how to wait, and I know I want you in my time.”

“I know that’s what you want,” Katara says, voice soft. And the next words to come out of her mouth are dangerous, something she only thinks when she’s alone. When Aang leaves her with a gust of wind. When she thinks about how the Southern Water Tribe might not even feel like home anymore; Sokka says so much has changed in the last year she’s been gone. “If we can’t see each other for the next few years, I’m not sure what I want.”

Aang is silent, and Katara’s stomach sinks. How could I say that? 

But also, her heart soars— thank God I was able to say that.

“I understand,” he finally says. He stands and picks up their empty bowls. “You need to find your way. And for now, that isn’t with me.” 

Tears well in her eyes. She nods.

   *     *     *

Katara,

Aang told me what happened. I really hope you’re doing ok. When Mai broke up with me, I was devastated, but I understood that she wanted more out of life than watching other people live it. Not to say that’s what you’re doing, but more that I understood her perspective, much like I’m sure Aang will understand yours. (I realize this is completely unsolicited personal advice advice. Don’t worry, I’ve attached suggested edits to your constitution proposal to this letter.)

But really, if you need anything to get to Republic City, let me know. Druk’s gotten big enough to fly now, and the palaces always have empty rooms ready to receive guests. I can also always make arrangements.

Your Friend,

Zuko

 (Aang still insists on dropping her off to Republic City, which Katara knows is his way of saying sorry. When they arrive, trying very hard not to cry, she hugs Aang as tight as she can before sliding off Appa. 

“Write often,” she says. “And thank you.” 

“I will,” he says. “And I should be thanking you, so don’t worry. I’ll see you later.”

He leaves with a defeated look on his face, and that’s when Katara lets herself cry.)

   *     *     *

Living in Republic City still doesn’t feel real. Katara has never had a place to call her own before, and the idea of this apartment being hers is foreign. 

At her swearing in ceremony, Zuko and her father are the only familiar faces in the crowd. Sokka, Toph, and Suki are all home as far as she knows, and Aang is at the Eastern Air Temple. But Zuko and her father bring flowers and words of congratulations, and that’s more than enough.  

“Your mother would be so proud,” Hakoda says. “I knew even before you and Zuko sent those letters that you’d be the one for the job.”

“Thanks Dad,” Katara says, holding him tight for a hug. “I wish Mom were here to see this.” 

“Me too.”

Next is Zuko, holding a bouquet of fire lilies. “I don’t remember if you like flowers, but I figured they’re a nice formality. Congrats, Councilwoman Katara.” 

She holds the flowers and pulls him in close for a hug. “They’re beautiful. Thanks.” 

A few weeks later, Katara finishes the first official draft of the United Republic’s Constitution. It’s one thing to read the historical documents that shaped each nation, and another to write them herself. Undeniable rights, government structure, due process--it's all she can think about for weeks.  

She sends copies to all her friends, looking for advice. But it’s nice to catch up in the letters too; Suki has moved to the Southern Water Tribe for the time being. Sokka says Master Pakku and Gran Gran are disgustingly in love. Even Aang replies--it’s short and Katara can hear the hurt in his voice, but he’s trying, and that’s all she can ask for. 

Zuko is the only person whose feedback she can hear in person. When he’s not advising the greater Council or overseeing construction of Air Temple Island he’s in Katara’s office, dropping off scrolls and occasionally serving tea. 

"The Jasmine Dragon’s White Dragon,” Katara says, reading the label on the tin that Zuko carefully measures leaves from. He laughs. “What’s so funny?” 

“My uncle once drank something thinking it was white dragon, but it was white jade. And you think it wouldn’t be too bad, but he was covered in rashes for days. Everywhere.” 

Katara smiles. “That’s horrible.” 

“It’s ok, we figured it out.” Zuko’s eyes have a faraway look, one that Katara often sees in herself. So much has changed in the past five years, but sometimes it’s easy to get lost in thinking about what it was like when the world was ending. 

“Anyway,” Zuko says. “I have a free night a month from now, and we should get dinner at this new place I hear is good.”

“Kwong’s Cuisine?”

“Yup, that’s the one!” Zuko clears his throat. “Oh, and, to clarify, other people should come too if they’re free. Like, if Sokka is in town, or Suki, or Toph, or Aang. Although, I guess maybe not Aa—”

“Zuko,” Katara says with a laugh. “It’s fine. Kwong’s Cuisine a month from now sounds great.”

“Ok, sorry. Anyway, the Constitution…”

When he leaves, Katara finds herself smiling. Zuko’s cute when he’s flustered. 

   *     *     *

Katara only has one set of clothes fancy enough for Kwong’s, and it’s the set that Zuko gave her at the Summit a year ago. 

Zuko notices when she arrives. “Are these the—”

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess it might be a bit embarrassing, but I don’t have much time to go shopping.”

“It’s not embarrassing, and that makes sense.” She takes a seat across from him. “If anything, it’s embarrassing how many robes I have. They have stewed sea prunes here, by the way. ”

“My favorite!”

They order a strange blend of Fire Nation and Water Tribe foods, but to their credit, the wait staff says nothing, only bowing deeply. 

Katara refills their tea cups. “Speaking of sea prunes--even at the Summit, four years ago, when you had them served for dinner. How on earth did you remember that Sokka and I liked them?” 

“You said it one random night years ago,” Zuko says. “And maybe Sokka said it in his sleep. The night we all came to Ember Island, I think.”

Katara’s impressed. “Wow, you remember that so clearly.”

Zuko nods, and there’s that faraway look in his eyes again. “Everything in the days after I joined Team Avatar and leading up to that final Agni Kai I remember very clearly.”

“Me too.”

Katara places her hand over his, briefly, to pull him back in the present. It seems to work.

“But hey,” she says. “Look where we are now! And to be honest, sometimes what I remember most is how mean I was to you in the beginning.”

What she doesn’t say is what she actually remembers most is Zuko jumping in front of lightning for her. 

He laughs. “I remember you threatening to kill me if I ever stepped out of line.”

“Hey, hey,” Katara says. “Again, like I said, look where we are now! A valid point at the time though.” 

“I know,” Zuko says. He’s handsome when he smiles too.

A few weeks after Kwong’s, Katara replays the night in her head and steps out of the shower, bending herself dry. Fuck, she thinks. I'm in love with Zuko.

   *     *     *

Katara can’t pinpoint exactly when she started having feelings for Zuko, but now that she’s in the thick of it, it doesn’t matter. 

What matters is that when she signs the Constitution, he hands her the pen. When rumors of bloodbending start, he helps her squash illegal training camps. When Toph joins the police force, he’s at her side to welcome her on the steps of City Hall.

“Sugar Queen, Sparky!” Toph opens her arms for a hug and Katara sprints into it. “It’s good to see you.”  

“Toph, it’s so good to see you.” 

“Orientation starts in a few minutes, so I have to go. But Sparky, that life-changing field trip--I still need it. I expect an itinerary by the end of the week.” 

Zuko smiles. “You got it.” 

The curious thing about being in love with the Fire Lord is that it’s not the grand things that Katara likes. It’s the small things. The way he always remembers to ask her how she’s doing, or how he sends tins of white dragon tea to her office. Even when she doesn’t see him for a week (Katara knows Zuko must be horribly busy and doesn’t understand how he has the energy to fly to Republic City on a weekly basis), thoughts of him live in her mind.

And so it’s terrifying but also easy after their second dinner at Kwong’s to move in a bit closer than she normally would. 

“Thanks for flying me home,” Katara says. “I’m sure Druk wants to go home now too.” 

“He doesn’t like the city. It’s too dense for him.” Zuko’s hard to read, as usual, and it’s terrifying to bet their friendship on this, but she knows she has to. “It might be ti—”

She cuts him off to kiss him, and for a second, time stops. But then another second passes, and another, and Katara is pulling back because ok, wow, holy shit was that the wrong thing to do .

But then he pulls her in tighter, kisses her more deeply, and happiness fills Katara the way fire lilies drink in rain after a drought. 

“I love you,” he says, arms tight around her waist as he pulls her in for a hug. “I love you, and sometimes it feels like I’ve loved you all my life.”

   *     *     *

Fire Nation summers are unforgivingly hot, and in the last few months of her term as councilwoman, Katara finds herself spending more time in the palace with Zuko. 

She’s nominated Sokka to take her place on the United Republic Council, and he and Suki are moving to Republic City next weekend. It’s just in time for the unveiling of Air Temple Island. Aang will be the guest of honor, and Toph his security.

“I don’t think we’ve all been together since the summit four years ago,” Zuko says. They’re feeding the turtleducks at sunset, the only time of day when it finally starts cooling down. 

She bends little ripples in the water, and the turtleducklings quack with delight. 

“It’ll be great to see everyone again,” Katara says. “And I can’t wait for Sokka to start working so I don’t have to anymore.” 

“Have you given more thought to what you want to do once you leave?”

She nods. “Yes, but there’s so much to do. I could train new healers or new waterbenders in the south. I could lobby for special interests like the former colonists. I could travel the world for personal enjoyment. Right now I’m leaning towards going back to the south.”

“That does sound like a lot to think about.” 

“I know,” Katara says. “And I once fought with Aang about it, but now I understand. Sometimes it feels like there’s too much to do, and it’s easy to feel like you don’t know where to get started.”

“I have a suggestion,” Zuko says, “if it’s hard to get started. You could stay here, with me.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Stay?”

“Stay,” he says, like it’s simple, obvious even, for Katara to uproot her life and live in the Fire Nation. 

To be fair, it wouldn’t be much uprooting. All she has is her apartment in Republic City, and even that doesn’t have many things in it. 

“Hmm,” she says. “I never really thought about that.”

Zuko takes her hand, laces her fingers through his. Her heart aches at how gentle it is. “Maybe I’m not suggesting so much as I’m asking.  You can split your time between here and the South Pole, even just three to four months out of the year here would be fine.”

“You’d really want me to stay?” 

“Of course,” Zuko says. It’s unspoken, but Katara knows there’s the possibility of staying in the Fire Nation permanently down the line. And even more unspoken--she’s only 21, after all--is the possibility of being Fire Lady. 

“I’ll take your suggestion,” Katara says, “and much like your letters, I’ll give you a response in five to ten business days.” 

He groans and she laughs, kisses him on the cheek. 

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll stay.”

   *     *     *

A little more than a decade after Zuko’s coronation, Team Avatar reunites in the Fire Nation for a wedding. 

It’s an entire day of ceremonies that marry Water Tribe and Fire Nation tradition. Zuko and Katara kneel in front of the Southern Water Tribe, the Fire Nation, and the spirits to bind their souls in marriage. It feels like the world’s oldest love story (Tui and La, Oma and Shu, Zuko and Katara), and in a way, it is. The brilliant blue of her robes pair nicely with his scarlet red, and the world cheers when they raise their hands together.

The dinner party is the first time of day where Katara can talk to Zuko. She tells him how handsome he looks and how much she loves him. She murmurs these words quickly--in the only break with tradition that day, Katara demanded that they be seated with all their friends and not separately.

She does it so she can look around at the people she loves most. Toph, Sokka, Suki, Aang, Zuko --these are the people who bookend her life.

She’s home.

[cerezsis]

The Missing Link

Chapter Five: Kirima

Summary: In the midst of one of the words chapters of her life, Korra gets some advice from an old family friend.

WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of gore and thoughts of suicide. Tread cautiously if you are bothered by either of these topics.

--

           The cold arctic wind was sharp against Korra’s skin, but she found herself unable to care. Having only just arrived at the compound, all she could think about was how little progress she’s made over the last few months. All she wanted was to be free of the chair, free of the nightmares that plagued her all these months, and, most of all, free of feeling like a failure. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried, though, the universe was determined to keep her stuck.

           She only vaguely processed her parents saying goodbye as they dropped her and Naga at the healing hut. Opening the door, she was surprised to not immediately see Katara. Hearing the waterbending master’s voice, she wheeled herself into the next room, Naga following her. She quickly found Katara, along with another woman whom she immediately recognized.

           The other woman happened to glance up, her light blue eyes landing on both Korra and Naga. Her face fell and brown skin paled upon seeing the polar bear dog; Korra half expected to see her dark brown hair to turn completely gray right then and there. Seeing her expression, Katara turned around just as Korra started to speak.

           “Chief Kirima,” the Avatar’s voice was tinted with guilt as she spoke to the local chieftain, “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

           Kirima managed a nervous smile, trying her best not to focus too much on Naga. “No, don’t be sorry. I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten.”

           Katara stood up. “I’ll take Naga into the other room. I need to get a few things ready before we can start, Korra.”

           Korra nodded, and just like that, she and Kirima were alone. The older woman’s body immediately relaxed, returning to her usual stern yet approachable demeanor. She began to stand up, and Korra noticed something new in her hand.

           “You’re using a cane now?” she asked, noting its bright blue color, and running wolf for a handle.

           Kirima shrugged. “I don’t really need it, but Buniq’s been insisting on it,” she explained, “Ever since I fell ill around the Glacial Spirits festival… she worries a lot, and it puts her mind at ease, so–” She tossed the cane in the air, letting it spin before catching it again. “– I figure it’s worth it.”

           Korra nodded, a slight hint of a smile crossing her face. “So, you’re doing better now?”

           “Much. It wasn’t too serious, just age and old injuries catching up to me.” She walked closer to Korra, stopping only when she was a few feet away from her. Kirima had always been a towering woman, but in her chair, Korra felt especially small compared to her.

           “Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Kirima said, her hands folded on top of her cane, “How are you doing?”

           Korra didn’t answer right away, unsure if she could even answer at all. As the silence dragged on, Kirima nodded, her eyes falling in sympathy.

           “I see.” She grabbed a chair and sat down, now on a more equal level with Korra. “I understand what you’re going through, believe me. I was in a similar situation when I wasn’t much older than you.”

           Korra didn’t reply, but looked to her with intrigue. She knew what story Kirima was about to tell – she’d heard the summarized version more than once – but had never heard it from Kirima herself.

           “Fire Lord Zuko and his daughter, Izumi, had come to the South on a diplomatic mission. My family had been living here for a couple years at that point, so they were staying with us. I had plans to go hunting, so I asked Izumi if she’d like to come with.” She smirked. “I honestly didn’t expect her to say yes. Didn’t think the Fire Princess would be up for something like that, but it was the polite thing to do. Surprise, surprise, she was all for it. Said something about it being a “cultural experience,” or something like that.

           “Anyway, we set out the next morning. I was an avid hunter at the time, so I expected it would take half a day at most. Get in, get the meat, and get out.” Once the words left her mouth, her face began to fall. “My memory gets fuzzy at this point. I remember spotting footprints and telling Izumi to stay put while I check them out. I’d just realized what they belonged to when…” She paused. “The next thing I knew, I was pinned down. She roared in my face, the polar bear dog, and I could feel her claws dig into my ribs. I remember feeling my blood soak through my coat, but strangely, I don’t remember pain. I must’ve been trying to shield my face because the next thing I knew…” She rolled up her left sleeve and pulled down her armband, revealing the still very visible scars. “…my arm was nearly bit clean through. I still don’t have much feeling in certain areas…”

           She paused to fix her sleeve and armband. “I think I blacked out at that point. Just for a moment, but enough time for Izumi to scare it off with firebending. I remember her standing over me and talking to me, but apart from trying to keep me conscious, I can’t for the life of me remember the specifics. Strangely, I also… don’t remember being scared. I knew I was bleeding out; I knew I was dying, but I wasn’t scared. It was more… of a peaceful feeling. Like, “this is it, I guess.” It’s strange. I’d always thought I’d fight at the end, but in the moment, it was just… acceptance.” She paused again, closing her eyes and letting out a breath. “I’ll always be in debt to Izumi for what she did that day. I was out at this point, but I was told later that she took off her own cloak, wrapped it around my torso, and sprinted with me back to town. I still don’t know how she got me back so fast. Adrenalin, I suppose. The healers said if she got me there even five minutes later, I would’ve died…” Her eyes opened, focused on the running wolf on her cane. “The next few weeks, I was randomly slipping in and out of consciousness. My parents and sisters said I’d talk to them sometimes, but I don’t remember any of it. Once I was aware enough, I was told the extent of my injuries; the polar bear dog had punctured one of my lungs, my liver, gallbladder, intestines, and completely destroyed one of my kidneys. To this day, I still only have the one functioning kidney. I’d also broken most of my ribs and damaged my spine. Aunt Katara ended up coming down to treat me herself, but even then, I was bedridden for months, and it was two years before I could walk again.”

           It was at that point that Korra’s stomach dropped. Two years? Was that how long it would take for her too?

           Before she could dwell on it for too long, Kirima spoke again. “You remind me much of myself, Korra. You always have,” she smiled as she said this, “And I know how easy it is to give into despair; to think you’ll never get better. That life will never get better. There were long stretches during my recovery when I wished the attack had killed me. I even considered taking my own life a couple of times. In the moment, I was so sure I was broken forever… but I wasn’t.” She stood up, once again towering over Korra. “I pushed through the pain – both physical and mental. I put in the effort. I recovered, however slowly it happened. And I can’t tell you how happy I am to still be here. Had I died, I wouldn’t have married my wife, adopted my son, become my town’s first openly gay chieftain… I’m glad I stuck around. I’m glad I survived.” She bent down, taking hold of Korra’s hands, and looking her in the eye. “You’re a survivor, Korra, just like me. I promise you that one day, you’ll wear that title like a badge of honor. The scars of what happened may always be with you, but they don’t have to rule over you. Even if it doesn’t feel like it now, you will heal one day. I promise you that.”

           Korra took a moment to process Kirima’s words. Healing… it seemed so out of reach. But… Kirima had done it. It was hard to imagine such a remarkable woman to have ever been broken, but perhaps… one day, that’s how others would view her too.

           Before Korra could even utter a thanks, Katara walked into the room.

           “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said, “We can get started now.”

           Kirima let go of Korra’s hands and stood up straight. “I better get going, then.” She touched Korra’s shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.” She then walked over to Katara and gave her a quick hug. “I’ll talk to you later, Auntie.”

           Katara grinned. “Give Buniq and Little Sokka a hug for me.”

           Kirima grinned back and nodded before leaving. As she left the compound, she once again tossed her cane in the air and let it spin a few times before catching it. Her thoughts still lingered on the young Avatar as she got into her car and started the drive home. Korra was only a few years younger than her son. So young, and already she’s been through so much. More than anything, she hoped she’d take her advice to heart.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Art Of Remembrance (Part 38)

Her world is tainted in purple, she can only see purple. When she closes her eyes it is still there and, though it is a muted version of the color. Purple drips in her eyes,  and she sees the world as though she is peering through a window freshly spotted with rain.

And she is cold. So horribly cold. She can’t feel her fire.

They are all around her and this time they have faces. One is Ting-Lao’s ugly bearded mug. The man’s face is narrow and shrew-like. The one next to him is a woman, fairly young and with short hair. And the man next to her is bearded and somehow both burly and scrawny at once. She realizes that it is his chest that is burly but his arms are significantly less so. Those arms reach out to place a gag in her mouth, they have tired over her shouting and infuriated cursing.

She realizes with horror that they aren’t gagging her for the sake of doing so. But rather they are stuffing the veins into her mouth faster than she can safely swallow them. She can’t breath, she can barely even manage faint choking sounds.

Her mouth is filled with the taste of rancid water and fish and a tinge of something more earthy. The texture is slimy and slippery and all around unpleasant. She grasps at the air, reaching for some involuntary snatch for air. They show no mercy and less regard for her humanity as they pile more vines into her mouth. They catch in her throat and tighten her chest. She kicks her feet as far as the restraints will allow.

The purple in her vision fades as tears slip from her eyes, twin trails of agony that closely resemble the trails of saliva and swamp water that leak from the corners of her mouth. She isn’t sure how long this has been going on for but she is well aware that she should be dead having been deprived of oxygen for this long. Yet she continues to suffer and they continue to pile vines down her throat.

They begin to slide unpleasantly down the entire length of her throat, which is swollen and bulging with them. Her mouth is overflowing with them, spilling vine juices and Agni knows what else. She finds that she wants to just suffocate already, if only to be done with this. But slowly, the vines work their way into her stomach and some relief comes to her throat. It is short lived, they are heaping more vines into her mouth to replace the ones that have just left.

She almost wishes that they would begin slicing and cutting as usual. At least she is familiar with that brand of torture. This...this is new. This is terrifying. Like drowning but without the comforts of liquid. She feels bloated and fatigued and utterly hopeless. She knows that no one is coming to help her. She knows that she can’t help herself. She can now feel them coiling about in her belly. She worries that they may erupt from within her.

At some point she becomes desensitized to the vines being forced into her mouth. That sensation is all but gone when she begins to feel wriggling under the flesh of her arms and legs.

The unstrap, hoist her to her feet, and tell her to bend. She eyes them desperately, almost pleadingly but they insist, “waterbend.” But she can’t. She can’t even firebend. She can barely even hold herself upright, she feels so tired and heavy and nauseous.

She falls to her hands and knees and hurls. She doesn’t try to stop herself, she needs to purge at least some of the vines before they kill her. But they fight back, they latch themselves to her innards and cling until she is only dry choking.

She flops onto her side too weak to muster even a tormented moan. Azula lies in a heap, simply breathing. Breathing until a clump of vines sloughs out of her mouth. They are glowing purple. She notices now that her arms are as well and her tummy, and likely her neck as well.

She feels the vines pushing against her as though she is with child. She know what is about to happen. She knows it and she is horrified. She can only manage a small whimper before it does.

She is reduced to a ribboned version of herself, with vines wiggling from the bloody mass. They peer over her as if their experiment has been a success.

.oOo.

For the fifth night that week, Azula wakes in a state of potent dread, her face slick with nervous sweat. She is grasping reflexivly at her throat, a phantom burning lingers within it. The nightmares are back and they are twice as vivid and with real images to play upon. These are more paralyzing than the one she had just awakened from. At least this one she can say is out of the realm of possibility. Not like the ones where she watches them dissect her; a sleeptime replay of the truth. On most nights she wakes with her heart racing and her eyes watery and this time she has no one to reach out to.

Between the nightmares, the re-acquired loneliness, and the real fear that she is being persecuted, Azula’s head pounds constantly. The last time she had slept good was a week or so ago. This time no one has come to check on her, setting in stone that she has burned a very delicate bridge.

She thinks that she may lose her mind at any moment. Perhaps she is already in the process, she certainly doesn’t feel right. A disconnect, similar to what she felt with her memories, is beginning to settle in. She wanders the palace in something of a haze.

She is getting jumpy again, the thought that Long Feng might be sneaking people into the palace is becoming pressing. She can’t imagine that Zuzu will put much thought into thoroughly checking who he newly hires, especially not for her.

Azula notices that she is pacing and brings herself to a halt. The scars on her arms and belly seem to flare up and inch more intolerably than ever. She feels faint and leans herself heavily against the wall, slumping to the floor with her hands gripping her head.

She thinks of Sokka. Of how he had held her so close, of how he could usually talk her out of the chaos in her mind. She decides once and for all that she has made a mistake. Despite it all, despite any history, she is sure that it no longer matters. Not when he had been so good to her in a moment of weakness when he very well could have taken her down permanently. He had been so caring and she had pushed him away over what? Things that happened years ago, a silly feeling that she was supposed to hate him.

Azula isn’t sure how long she’d sat there, mind racing uncontrollably, but there is a sensation of pins and needles in her arms and legs. She is both thankful and distraught that no one has taken notice of her.

She forces herself to her feet, her legs are wobbly as she makes her way down the hall. With a deep sigh she resigns herself to what needs to be done. It will be a whole lot easier to take herself to Dr. Yu-Kang than it would be, to be forcibly escorted. Anyways, she needs someone to talk to.

A tap on her shoulder barely registers.

“You don’t look so good. I can tell, and I’m blind!”

“Why are you talking to me?”

Toph shrugs. “Just because Sokka and Katara are mad, doesn’t mean I have to be.”

The relief she feels is almost palpable, but she refrains from completely unloading on Toph. That’s what Dr. Yu-Kang is for. Instead she replies, “I’m fine.”

“Okay, you’re not even putting effort into that lie.”

“I’ll be fine.” Azula insists. “I just need to...I need to speak with Dr. Yu-Kang.”

“Your therapist?” Toph asks.

Azula nods.

“What for?”

“A lot of things.” She mutters.

“Like how Sokka’s mad?”

“Among other things, I suppose.” She replies matter of factly. The urge to unload everything onto the earthbender persists. But she can’t afford such a display of weakness at the moment. Not when so many people are furious with her.

“You wanna talk about it?” Toph asks. “I’m not a comforting person but I can tell you to man up.”

“I’m not a comforting person either.” Azula shrugs. Evidently she has been trying to tell herself to acquire herself some thicker skin. “I can take care of myself.”

“If you say so.” Toph shrugs. She begins to walk away and Azula wishes she had said more. Though she isn’t sure what to say. Regardless, Toph turns back around. “Hey, if you wanna, I don’t know, light stuff on fire and throw rocks at stuff with me, just ask.”

“I’ll...consider.” Azula says. Though random acts of destruction isn’t what she constitutes as a good time, she is willing to part take if it means having at least one person who doesn’t resent her.

.oOo.

Sokka has long since learned to sense anxiety on the fire princess and she is exuding it very strongly. He has a nagging and impulsive itch to go and comfort her as he normally would but he is done playing games. He is certainly done wasting his time on someone who would throw him aside over things that happened so far in the past.

From the room over, he observes her slip into a chair and wait for her lunch. When it is set before her, she stares at it for a good while before actually eating it. After she finishes it, she pushes the bowl aside, rests her arms on the table, and buries her face in them. He doesn’t think that she is crying. If she is, she is doing so very silently and unnoticeably.

He thinks that she might have fallen asleep.

“You doing okay, Sokka?” Katara asks.

He shrugs, “still pissed.” He folds his arms over his chest and fights to keep his voice low, Raava forbid he wakes that dragon. “I just wasted so much time. You told me so. You all warned me but I thought that maybe helping her out would make a difference…”

“To be fair, it did with Zuko. No one blames you for having hope.” Katara smiles. “And no one is mad at you for being a good person.”

“I am!” He shouts. He flinches and looks in Azula’s direction. She must be out cold.

“I know that Aang was happy to see you so optimistic.”

“And he wonders why I’m a pessimist.” Sokka grumbles.

Katara rolls her eyes. “If you keep crossing your arms like that they’re going to get locked in that position!” Katara declares. She nudges him lightly, “come on, let’s go walk by the turtle-duck pond.”

.oOo.

Azula takes a deep breath as she approaches the guest bedroom. This idea, this new idea is probably a much better one. Yet she dreads it all the same. She gives the door a knock before she can second guess herself.

She hears footsteps approaching and very briefly locks eyes with Sokka before the door falls open and she is beckoned inside. She catches the briefest flicker of something in Sokka’s eyes, it is probably hatred.

She slinks inside and slumps down on the sofa.

“Is everything alright?” Dr. Phang asks. “Have the side effects not cleared?”

“The treatment went fine. Perfect in fact.” Azula responds.

He tilts his head in confusion. “Then what are you doing here?” He clares his throat. “I inquire with all do respect, princess.”

She waves the apology off. “I’m here because it went perfectly.”

Again, Dr. Phang looks almost comically perplexed.

“I…” She trails off. “I want you to erase my memories again. All of them if need be.” She never takes her eyes from him.

The man parts his lips but remains silent for a time. “Would you like to speak with Dr. Yu-Kang, princess?”

She swallows, “that is my backup plan.”

“Then it is a good thing that you had a backup plan.”

“I am your princess and I am telling you…”

“Having your mind and spirit energy tampered with just once is extremely dangerous. Twice, is treading very dangerous waters. Thrice…” He pauses. “What you’re asking me to do is to ravage your mind. Forgive me, princess, but I study chi and spirit energy to aid people, not destroy them.”

Azula finds herself massaging small circles on her temple.

“I can contact Dr. Yu-Kang, if you would like.”

“Yes, please.” She says very softly.

.oOo.

Sokka steps back from the door, his stomach fluttering with secondhand sadness. He knows that this is a conversation that he wasn’t supposed to have heard and he doesn’t think that he should stick around and let it be known that he had.

He should just make his way back to his room and forget about it. She made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with him. He lightly raps on his forehead with the heel of his hand. But why would she ask him to wipe her memories again if she didn’t feel some sort of regret? He answers himself with a forward, she doesn’t want to remember what happened in the compound. Still, something keeps him rooted in the hallway.

Just as he makes up his mind that he is going to mind his own business, the door opens and he finds himself looking her directly in the eyes. Exhausted, weary eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak but she shoves past him, Dr. Phang in tow. He has an impulse to catch her wrist but he knows that taking her by surprise is never a good idea. At best she’d jerk away, at worst he’d be met with a faceful of fire. Anyhow, he doesn’t think that he should care.

But he doesn’t like her posture. The way she is almost slouched as though her head is too heavy for her neck. He supposes that he has invested too much time into this, whatever it is, to just let it fail. With a long sigh he catches up to Azula. “Why can’t you just apologize like everyone else does?”

Azula’s frown only deepens and her eyes grow dimmer.

“I’ll stop being mad if you just apologize.”

She presses her lips firmly and stubbornly together.

“I’m serious, I won’t forgive you if you don’t say it.”

He didn’t realize that an expression could get that dark and forlorn. He tries a lighter tone, “You did it the last few times.”

She holds her silence.

With the old Azula reawakened and in the way, he is almost sure that he isn’t going to coax an apology from her, not now that her mind is rooted back in old habits.

She turns back to Dr. Phang and quietly requests, “perhaps I should go to Dr. Yu-Kang.”

“Okay fine, you win!” Sokka bursts out, his hopes plummeting rapidly. “We can talk about things.” He doesn’t think that she will take him up on his offer.

He watches her take a place propped up against the wall. “You’re dismissed for the moment, Dr. Phang.” He isn’t sure how she can still sound so authoritative.

The man offers a slight bow. “I will be in the guest room, you know where to find me.”

He takes his leave and Azula lets herself slide down the wall. For a while she only stares blankly at the opposite wall. He can tell that she wants to cry but she doesn’t He wishes that she just would. She is always calmer when she just lets it out. “Talk.” Sokka finds that he has no dialogue to offer, he didn’t think he’d get this far. He didn’t think that he was going to even try. “You said that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I didn’t.” She sticks to her word. “Not at that moment.”

“Then why did you tell me that I was wasting my time?”

She is quiet for another very long stretch of time and he thinks that it is his cue to leave. He shifts his weight and she speaks up again. “You made me angry. I wanted to be left alone.”

“And I left you alone.” He points out.

“Not that alone.” She mutters.

“Well then when would you have wanted to talk to me?” He asks. “I wasn’t going to wait forever.”

“I can force Dr. Phang to get rid of my memories again, it will be easier…”

“Since when have you ever taken the easy way out of things?”

“Since the hard way became unmanageable.” Azula replies. “I know when to back out of a fight that I can’t win.” Somehow she looks tireder still.

“You can win this one though.”

.oOo.

Azula swallows. She should have kept walking. She should have just hustled onto that boat and back to Fire Lake. “Can I?” She asks. “It’s been over three years since I started it…” She feels so drained. So spent. “I’m tired of fighting.”

Sokka’s fingers seem to twitch. She speculates that he has just thought better of placing his hand atop hers.

“I think that I lost my memories because the universe knew that I couldn’t deal with them anymore.” Her soul feels as heavy as she had in her dream. She feels just as suffocated too. Each and every instinct she has screams for her to shut the hell up. To stop admitting weakness. But one single, particularly loud instinct pushes her to continue. “I don’t want to be alone again...it only took me a few days with my memories and one conversation to push everyone away.”

Sokka blinks.

“I can keep doing this or I can erase everything again with a note to myself that I don’t want my memories back and then I can move on.”

Sokka rubs his hands over his face.  “I can be patient.” He says. “I should have been patient. It takes time to get used to...everything.”

Azula shrugs, “patience wears thin eventually no matter how long the supply is.”

“Do you really think that it will take you that long to get it together?”

He truly does have such a way with words. She rolls her eyes, “yes, I do.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You need to back your claims with proof.”

“You wouldn’t have sat down and talked to me like this before, would you have?”

She considers. “No.”

“Well then…” He nudges her.

“Don’t do that.” She scowls.

“Sorry.” He mumbles.

A part of her almost feels bad, he is trying which is more than she can say. She wants to joke and jest but she can’t. She isn’t comfortable with it anymore. She doesn’t know why she can’t just be comfortable with it. It used to be so easy. She rests her face against her knees. For a moment she clutches her head but then she releases her hold and simply hovers her open hand slightly above her head.

“It would be better if I just…” She trails off. “I was easier to be around. People liked me more when…”

She doesn’t need to look up to know that grim, tightlipped expression is on his face. “If I can’t love the real you, is it love at all? I want to love you, not a half version of you.”

.oOo.

She looks up. Her lower lips seems to tremble. Still she doesn’t cry. He really, truly wishes that she would. He finds himself saying, “just let it out.”

“What?” She utters.

“Just cry already.” He laughs.

She shakes her head, “not a chance.”

“I’ve already seen you cry several times, I can list them off if you’d like.”

At this she cringes and her nose scrunches. “Don’t.” For a moment she looks faintly humored, but this fades quickly.

“I won’t.” He replies lamely. “But I don’t think any differently about you for crying. You’re still the most terrifying person I’ve ever talked to.” She misses the affection in the comment completely and seems to grow dim again. “I mean that in a good way. You’re fierce! You know, like dragons!”

“You’re horrible at this.” She mumbles.

“I’m trying, doesn’t that count for anything?”

She catches him off guard with an affirmative nod. “Yes.”

[anxtheroliveinthehouse]

Bathed in Flames.

Hello, I wrote a little something. I also posted it on AO3 if you’d rather see it there.

rating: G || no warnings || fandom: atla/atlab || character(s): Zuko, Mai || 

additional tags: other main characters mentioned, vignette, angst, Zuko-centric, Zuko’s scar, angst and feels, teen angst, guilt, dysfunctional family, family issues, personal growth, bending, Iroh is a good uncle, meditation, dreaming

summary:  Three vignettes written about three of my favorite parts Zuko's character arc: where he came from, what he did, and who he became.

There were times when he didn’t dream. His sleep was left unmarred by troubling visions of destiny or night terrors of dishonor. However, this wasn’t a night of blissful awareness, as most nights were. He was only half asleep, one part of his brain could still hear the crackling of the fire in the center of his chambers as well as the sound of the water sloshing against the sides of the ship. The air was tainted with the smell of coal burning deep within the belly of the ship. The blazing hot life inside the engine called out to him, the flames he could clearly feel licking up his legs and torso, arms and back, until it entirely engulfed him.

It could have been terrifying for someone else to experience. However, it was only natural for him. Firebenders could sense their element when it was in close vicinity, and of course the stronger the source, the more it made itself known to the benders that controlled it.

This was perhaps the only time of the day in which his bending abilities and his sense of fire did not soothe or calm him, ground him or give him balance. When he slipped into his own dreamworld where he couldn’t hold back his ridgid control on his memories, he fell into the deepest pits of despair. The sound of the crackling fire and the sloshing of the water on ship and the sense of the great roaring fire within said ship only brought him back to the day of his Agni Kai.

The torches that filled the viewing benches around the arena crackled the same as the one in his room. The water in the moat around the arena sloshed against the stone structures that confined it as did the sea against his confining ship. The engine rumbled . . .

Zuko distantly felt the rumbling through his bed from the floor. It wasn’t enough to rouse him from his half-aware state because of how long he had been on this Godforsaken ship. Regardless, the rumbling only further enhanced his painful memory. The rumbling was the way the crowd stomped and cheered for the fight between father and son. It was the sound of the searing flames his father unleashed upon him even when he begged for mercy.

The pain was all he could remember after looking up to see the fire reaching for him. The agony remained for days and days afterwards. It smarted him for weeks to come, the skin always sore and hurting. It would never feel normal, always tight and dry like leather. He was lucky to make it out with his eye and eyesight.

Barely aware he was doing it, Zuko reached for his scar, covering it from any further harm. It was a pathetic attempt. His father could sear through his hand and probably his skull as well. The threat always lingered with him. His father was clear that if he were to return to him, Zuko would be killed.

Banging on his chamber door startled him out of his sleepy brooding and into his fully awake brooding.

“What is it?” He snarled.

“Prince Zuko, we have reached the Southern Water Tribe.”

Cruel excitement swirled in his gut. “Gather your men. We disembark as soon as the ship’s nose crosses into their village.”

*

Zuko dreamed pleasant visions for once when he was back inside the Fire Nation’s capital, he was home . It felt right to be there. There was always the bonus of having Mai in his arms. Her hair brushed against his chin and her breathing against his throat. Something about those feelings lulled him into a sense of security.

The dreams, while happy and contented, were sure to bring anguish to Zuko when he woke. He dreamt of the Avatar, alive and well. He dreamt being on the shores of the Fire Nation watching the kid sail through the wind off the ocean on that contraption of his. He kept happily gliding without a care in the world, whooping and laughing all the while. It was almost like the scene took place a hundred years prior. When there was no war and the Avatar had visited the Fire Nation as a normal boy. He had friends here and a good relationship with the people.

Of course, Aang was enjoying himself, as were the other three. Toph had busied herself trying her hand at sand bending a sandcastle, though Zuko could tell she wasn’t a huge fan of it. Katara and Sokka were out in the water with Sokka trying to surf but ultimately failing, eventually Katara bended a wave that was easy enough for her brother to ride on. This only boosted his ego.

Zuko smiled, genuinely smiled, at the scene. Maybe this was paradise? Some idyllic world where the crown Prince of the Fire Nation was friends with the Avatar.

As soon as the vision began, it was swiftly taken away. Zuko stirred, feeling the coattails of happiness in its wake. He opened his eyes to the choice he had made. He chose not to fight with the avatar, but against him. His sister had shot down the boy with lightning and killed him, yet gave Zuko the credit. It wasn’t long afterwards that the guilt set in. A myriad of emotions crashed over him. Anguish was the best descriptor. The Avatar’s words echoed to him as he laid there watching his girlfriend as she slept.

If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends, too?

*

It was the day of Zuko’s coronation. He was dressed in robes that reminded him of his father. They were heavy on his shoulders. Or perhaps it was the weight of the responsibility that he now carried. Even though he had not been officially crowned as the new fire lord, he had inherited the position after his father had been forced out. As Ozai’s oldest child, Zuko was set to be crowned and carried the burden of the entire fire nation.

Not even a week ago he was still on the run with the avatar, fighting and sneaking around. He had been starving, imprisoned, shunned, and beaten the first time he had been away from home, right after the Agni Kai. And since then, Zuko has been at his lowest in the past year. He hadn’t even thought he could go lower. Then to be humbled when he joined the avatar’s gang and redeemed himself.

What a journey he had been on.

When Zuko found his own eyes in the mirror of his dressing room, he couldn’t believe the contrast in what he found. He recognized himself, but he had changed so much that he was unsure. He had aged and lost weight, leaving his cheeks hollow and his face gaunt. He was wearing the fire lord’s robes, a sight he never thought to be possible. His hair had grown long enough to be put into a top knot which a hair piece would be placed signifying his new status. It was almost too much to comprehend.

The scar was the only thing that grounded him. It made it unquestionable who Zuko was seeing in the mirror. The person he saw was a product of their journey. Whether the wounds were physical as the scar on his face or invisible as were the ones on his heart, they were testament. They would be his legacy.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He faintly felt the candles and low embers of the incense burning in the room. When he took a breath, the few sources of fire flared and grew brighter. Then, Zuko meditated. Everything he was worried about was being pushed aside in his mind. He thought of Iroh and his tea to help.

The first thing Zuko came across in his thoughts was his sister. Azula was still wailing and fighting for escape. This particular thought was unexpectedly painful to deal with. There was so much driving force between them from their father that once he had been removed, it left this awkward, empty space. He always loved his sister, but it wasn’t like how Sokka loved Katara. It was a cold and distant concern. At times, Zuko questioned if he did actually care. He was afraid that maybe too much time and pressure had permanently estranged them. It felt like they could never be able to pick up the pieces or try to have a semblance of normalcy, but he knew he had to try and bridge the gap. Though, in the state Azula was in, that would be completely impossible. Maybe the healers Zuko sent to her would be able to help her.

He pushed the thought away and made it smoke in his mind. It drifted away.

Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph were all going on more adventures. Really they were supposed to be helping people in their transition out of the fire nation’s hold. However, Zuko was sure they were prone to stir up trouble. Deep down he worried for their safety, especially now in the midst of great change. There were already reports of rebellions both in and out of the fire nation. Secret groups were being formed and threats on his life were being sent out. He could only imagine what hung over Aang’s head.

The thought became mist, and drifted before settling on another worry.

His mother was still alive. It was a thought that had been pushing for attention in his mind even when he needed to stay focused. He missed her so much at times he felt like he would implode. The first thing he did when he had the power to was order an investigation into the whereabouts of Ursa. Even so, he was planning a visit to see his father. There was a chance the previous fire lord would at least give him something, but Zuko wasn’t optimistic.

The thought turned to rain. Curiously when he opened his eyes to find the rain he began to feel, he found fat tears rolling down his face.

He wiped them away. They had caught him off guard. No more would his emotions catch him unaware. He needed to be comfortable in his ability to feel them, name them, and, to an extent, control them. His empathy was the tool he needed in becoming a great fire lord. One that Ozai refused to acknowledge during his time in power. Hopefully, Zuko would be able to hold onto it.

Hopefully, Zuko would never become his father.

[carnistcervine]

Here’s Yume in my Twin Avatars AU. :’)

Info under the cut~

Given Name: Yume Surname: Genso Title: Dark Avatar Nation: Fire/Water(halfbreed) Age(depicted): 116 Abilities: Firebending, Airbending, Waterbending, Earthbending, Communication with spirits, Channeling spirits, The Avatar State Family: Yuna Genso(Mother/Water), Akon Genso(Father/Fire), Yuki Genso(Sister/Halfbreed), Kona(Grandmother/Water), Hanouk(Grandfather/Water) Residence: Nomad Allies: Previous dark Avatars, Light Avatar Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Suki, Zuko, Yukki, Hideki, Draco(her dragon/spiritual companion), Appa, Momo National Allignment: Avatar Moral Allignment: Chaotic Somewhere-Inbetween-Good-and-Neutral Spiritual Allignment: Dark

Personality: Chaotic and highly mischevious, Undyingly loyal, Highly empathetic, Extremely hostile but rarely resorts to actual violence, 'A little' nihilistic, Tends to hold back/Rarely uses full power to take down foes, Highly mad, Nice when she chooses to be, Really sweet to the few she's able to befriend, Sassy as fuck, Lonely, Self-doubting/self-critical, Hides pain with mischief, Playful, Loving to a fault, Superficially aloof Strengths: Dogged loyalty, a kind soul deep down, able to be a terrifying foe Weaknesses: Worst-Diplomat-Ever, She handles grief by not handling it, emotional instability Fears: That she'll loose control, failure, that deep down her only value to others is that she's the Avatar, DOLLS(to the point where she has an actual phobia)

Personality In Depth: Yume is a mischevious soul, often pranking or toying with others. While she likes to taunt people, it's often in jest. And Yume will refrain from doing so if she feels or knows that it will genuinely hurt the target. While she usually doesn't show it outwardly, she's highly empathetic and feels deeply for those around her. It's even to the point that she'll hide her own pain for the sake of not hurting or worrying others. Yume is also exceedingly loyal to her companions, she is willing to follow those she truely believes in through the depths of the inferno and back. As an Avatar, she is keenly aware of how much power she is capable of unleashing and rarely ever goes full out on any opponant, even when they are going full out on her. The reason for this being that she holds a firm belief that striking down anyone weaker than you is true cowardice and unforgivable. However, unlike the pacifistic Avatar Aang, Yume will not hesitate to kill if she thinks it's nessisary. While Yume can be very kind and polite when she wants to, she also has a tendancy towards hostility. She's often patient and kind to those that need her help or those that are weak/in bad situations, but will become hostile towards people with status or wealth if they even slightly ruffle her feathers. Especially those who refuse to show empathy towards others. While the young Avatar often acts aloof and emotionally detached at times, deep down she's very lonely and craves companionship. While very empathetic, if those she's trying to help scorn her bad enough, she will become hostile.

Theme Song: In The End by Linkin Park Song Quote: "What it meant to me, will eventually be a memory..." General Quote: "Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'" - Edgar Allen Poe "The Raven" Character Quotes: -(To Zuko)Flameo, Hotman! -(After losing Draco)How I feel about Draco is irrelevant, right now we need to focus on getting to Ba Sing Se. -(To Zuko)I'd tell you to stay flamin', but honestly you need to chill. -Even the most vicious winter cannot kill the flowers of spring. I am more than my flesh and bone. You cannot kill me in a way that matters(totally got this part from a shitpost about mushrooms).

-Each of us is a speck of light that shines in an eternity of darkness. Although our lights will all fade and blink out, it does not matter that the darkness lasts longer. What matters is that we were there to defy it in the first place.

General Notes: -Uses outdated Fire Nation slang. -As much as she says "Fuck the World", she cares very deeply about it and the people in it. -She does eventually make peace with herself and learns how to bend lightning. -A bit of a nihilist. Also fairly existential. Lets just say, don't engage her in a philisophical conversation or contemplate your place in the universe with her. You will regret it. And existence in general.

Backstory: Somewhere, Mina the Dark Avatar drew her last breath. And just like that, Yume drew her first. Yume was born to Yuna and Akon in the Fire Nation. Soon after her birth, Akon broke off his relationship with Yuna, who moved back to her parents in the Northern Water Tribe with her two children. When Yume was two she got separated from her mother. Lost and afraid, little Yume wandered about until she came across a tall man in red. Normally, tall strangers would scare Yume, but the man was familiar. She didn't know why, but she knew that his name was Roku, and he was safe. She tugged on him and despite being in a serious meeting, he took a break to find Yume's mom and reunite the two. When the elder Avatar was questioned, he claimed that the child was the newest incarnation of the Dark Avatar. When Yume turned five, she showed her first signs of bending: Sparks. Yuna realised that Yume would likely have to leave for the Fire Nation soon, as no fire masters lived in the North Pole. And an uncontrolled firebender is a disaster waiting to happen. When Yume was six, she was taken in by the Fire Sages. The official reason was just firebending training, but even Yuna found it strange the Sages wanted a random half-breed from the North Pole. But of course the real reason for their intervention was yes, firebending training, but also because Yume was the Fire Nation Avatar and they had recieved a dark omen concerning the Avatar. They thought the best course of action would be to keep a close eye on her and protect her. Once in the Fire Nation, Yume is finally freed of the stifiling cold of the north and no longer has her excess energy going towards keeping herself warm. So naturally she becomes a little bit of a terror in the temple. She pulls constant pranks on the Sages and apprentices, but they love her anyway. She keeps the Sages young. When she turn's eight, the Sages surprise Yume with a dragon egg. The egg hatches and eventually becomes her life-long companion: Draco. At age twelve, Yume first meets Aang, a small Air Nomad boy. The two are fast friends. Yume makes an effort to hang out with Aang everytime he visits the Fire Nation. When Yume turns sixteen she finally masters firebending and the Sages reveal to her that she is the Dark Avatar. She takes the news okay, she isn't sure how to feel about it. She supposes it isn't all bad, maybe she'll get to see Aang while airbending training. However, she's kidnapped by the spirits and sent to the void before her training can begin proper.

[kristallioness]

"North and South: Part Three" - a review

My copy of "North and South: Part Three" arrived exactly a week ago and I finally managed to read it (for the first time in the correct order without skipping any pages) yesterday early morning around 5-6 am. I'm not sure about the previous trilogies, but since I'm aware of how this one has received so much critique and it's probably my favourite out of all of them, I feel the need to share my more-positive thoughts (and protect my babies).

Before I begin, I'd like to point out what I've already written about some of the scenes/pages when I first saw them (basically my first feels about those moments): pages 5-15, 16-20, also a few random pages. Besides that, I wanna share this good review I accidentally stumbled across while searching for scans and this awesome video (with a fitting sound effect), where Katara slaying Gilak and Aang catching Hakoda has been animated.

----------x----------

Alright, since the third part starts with Toph Beifong and her students continuing the work at the oil refinery, I'll start with my thoughts on her. The way Toph talks to her students is hilarious - they're the most prestigious and only metalbending school in the world. When she asks Ho Tun whether they're metalbenders or lily livers and he hesitates before answering - priceless. Dude, like you ever had a choice.. I must agree with Toph that politics are (often) dumb.

Katara ain't interested in helping to build something that can potentially damage the environment of her home - darn right, I support her! For those who might not understand why she's against the oil refinery, please read my review of the second part over here. I've explained it pretty well why I can understand her concern, as well as why she's not happy about changing everything they've ever loved about home (like she says a bit angrily to Sokka, who's clearly much more excited).

Let me continue with some other side characters while I'm on the topic. There's one character I'd like to bring up here, who simply kept surprising me throughout this last part and who I am so-so proud of - Zuko. I just wanna hug him and tell him how proud I am of him, okay!? That moment when he said the Fire Nation is ready to help the Southern Water Tribe, especially since they've caused enough harm to them during the war - it reminded me of his daughter, Izumi, doing the contrary 70 years later when she refuses to join an unprovoked attack against Kuvira's army with the United Republic of Nations due to the Fire Nation's warlike history. Even the angle on their faces during these scenes is the same. Like father, like daughter for real here. Zuko's humility is worth noting.

There were some other fun moments with Zuko that I liked, such as how he and Sokka hugged during his arrival at the South Pole (for the first time after the war!). Can I just say, brotp for life? I love how this reminded me of Zuko hugging Aang before they parted ways in "Smoke and Shadow" (the angles of these scenes are the same, too), but now they're reuniting. Speaking of hugs, I cannot stress enough how much I love that the world leaders (Avatar Aang, Head Chieftain Hakoda, Earth King Kuei and Fire Lord Zuko) are getting along so well. I repeat, I wish that such a peaceful time would come to our world, too. Kuei offering Zuko to join him in Bosco's paws is such a simple, but sweet and caring act. This really gives 'bear hug' a new, quite literal meaning. Zuko being afraid of bears is another amusing fact. One final thing, I loved how the writers showed that Zuko's a master planner, too - like Sokka, he can anticipate their enemy's moves, understand the motives behind their demands and he knows how Gilak thinks. Also, crossing-his-arms pouty Zuko is adorkable and cute.

----------x----------

Enough about the side characters, I'll talk about the conference since it already came up earlier. Let's take a step back before the meeting because I love that Sokka supports Malina during the unrest in the beginning. She really needs someone (besides Hakoda) to be there for her during such a hard time - her brother Maliq was sent back to the Northern Water Tribe along with the rest of her crew, they were both nearly killed, she had to see the love of her life almost bleed to death right in front of her. She hasn't had it easy either.

I also enjoyed seeing Sokka's enthusiasm towards his father's presentation during the meeting, like a best friend cheering his mate on, supporting each other. Now that's the kind of father-son bond I love. I hadn't seen page 22 before, so that really made my heart skip a beat (in a good way, it was a nice surprise) - the foundation of the future Southern Water Tribe, laid down by Hakoda and Malina. I felt so happy to see the familiar plan of what we've already seen realized 70 years later (during TLOK Book 2). This connection made me smile. During the fight I loved the scene of Sokka throwing his boomerang to cut down the chandelier so it'd fall on the soldier's head. Look at his smug face, such satisfaction.

In contrast to Sokka's delight, I loved how an annoyed Katara defended her point of view when the Earth King declared that he might not be ready to aid them with their plans. Her comparison of the Outer Ring (I do believe she meant the Lower Ring though?) and her home in particular was supposed to be a nice (unfinished) insult, since Kuei implied that her tribe should be cleaner. Well, the tribe being warmer is something they can't change, but then again Kuei hasn't even seen the world, so he doesn't understand how climates and weather work. I'm rather quick to forgive him for his clumsiness, however, I understand why Katara is justifiably angry at him for saying such things. But, as a reader, I'm ready to give Earth King Kuei time to learn. Because I know where he comes from and why he's like that.

Moving forward a bit, there was a moment involving him, which felt like a cold shower. It was the moment I realized that the situation's serious, far more serious than I'd originally imagined. When Zuko claimed that killing the Earth King could start a new war. This was a possibility I'd never considered and the mere thought sent shivers down my spine. The Earth Kingdom attacking the Southern Water Tribe for murdering their leader. A frightening reality.

While the Earth King was gone, I really felt for Bosco, who was obviously worried about him. Hakoda correcting Malina that the bear missed his best friend, not his master, was very endearing (I'm loving their private moments more and more). Like Appa was worried about Aang when he disappeared into the Spirit World. Both times, Katara's the one who comforts them - I guess she has a way with animals, too, just like her boyfriend (these two are perfect for each other). Also, I like to think that Momo and Bosco are best buddies.

----------x----------

Having mentioned the fight and the kidnapping, I'd like to write down my opinion about that as well as the beginning of the exchange in the mountains. First off, that fierce glare at Gilak when Katara wanted Aang to drop her - my only thoughts were something in the lines of "Oh, shit! She's mad.." and "Damn, she's ready to shred him to pieces!" (honestly, so would I be). Lesson learned (long ago, actually) - don't mess with this girl or her family, because she will kill you. Katara and Aang's teamwork in order to save Hakoda was excellent. Aang's face when Sokka and Katara told him about the Bridge of No Return later made me laugh though. The Southern Water Tribe can be fricking savage.. good luck with your girlfriend there, Aang! I'm just kidding.. but seriously, Southern Water Tribe people are not to be messed with.

Coming back to Aang and Katara, I've gotta admit that I was pleasantly surprised at how much they interacted in this part (my expectations were low based on what I'd heard). There were so many little moments or big action scenes where they were together, all of which filled my heart with joy. For example, once they'd reached the Bridge of No Return, Aang was standing a few feet away from Katara when he answered Sokka's question. But he noticed that Katara was worried - she didn't even address him, he simply noticed. So Aang just walked up to Katara to kiss her cheek and comfort her that everything's going to turn out fine. What a cutie! Just look at that gentle caressing of her right cheek, she's smiling while holding onto his forearm to hold it steady (or to pull him in closer because she likes what he's offering to her - love, comfort and hope).

Following this scene, when the members of Team Avatar were getting chi blocked was a moment where I felt like I wanted to jump in the middle and interfere to help them. Chi blocking has always creeped me out (in the sense that you'll be completely defenceless/paralyzed), so this particular scene wasn't pleasant to read for me, even though I liked it. Sokka's reaction really made me laugh - kind of not the time to be happy about it, buddy. Also important, Hakoda worrying about their well-being and calling them kids is touching (well, they are still teenagers so it makes sense).

I was absolutely mind-blown by the plan Sokka came up with on how to neutralize the chi blockers' attacks. This was a nice tie-in to the armour of the Metalbending Police Force of Republic City. Turns out it wasn't Toph who invented the originals, instead it was Sokka! His plan in general was ingenious. I'd seen the pages where they were chi blocked, but I hadn't seen how they come out of it. I expected them to wait or stall Gilak's army long enough for them to regain their ability to move and bend. This was an amazing turn of events. Toph and Katara getting revenge on those two annoying chi blocker siblings - I just wanna praise my girls forever because gosh, I hated those two! They really irked me. I loved Katara and Aang's quick reaction when they had to go rescue the rest of the three still hanging from the rope bridge. Sweeties saving people together.

I liked the way Hakoda talked to the Earth King while he was walking to the middle of the bridge. He was supportive and tried to help Kuei get his mind off the fear of falling by reminding him of Bosco. I didn't notice until I reread the book a second time, but when Malina is saying her final farewell to Hakoda, the Earth King is crouching and covering his eyes whereas everyone else's mouths are wide open. Either he can't look because he's scared to see what'll happen next or.. he's crying.

When the rope finally broke, the looks on everybody's faces killed me, especially Sokka and Katara's. How many times does Katara have to scream "Dad!" and have my heart break into a million pieces? I don't think this question will ever receive an answer. Hakoda's a side character and as we all know from the original series (for instance, take Yue or Jet), anything can happen to these beloved characters. And Hakoda's one of my favourites! He really has a special place in my heart, he reminds me of my dad and that's why the whole Hakoda-Katara (father-daughter) dynamic makes me emotional every single time. I see a lot of myself in Katara, too.

----------x----------

And with that, I reach the most heartbreaking turning point of this part - Malina sacrificing herself to save at least one of them, namely Hakoda. How did I interpret this moment? In various ways.

First off, I immediately noticed the gleam on Katara's necklace and knew it was related to what she says at her mother's grave the next day. It symbolizes her mother's courage running through her veins, her instincts kicking in to go save the woman. But I think there are two other things that are going through Katara's mind.

Katara sees this as the moment Aang fell in the Crystal Catacombs, which she mentions the next day. She sees herself in her dad, having to witness the love of his life die right before his eyes (again). Besides that, it also symbolizes what happened 9 years ago - Katara being the first one to see the look on her dad's face when he realized he'd lost Kya. Remember, Katara and Hakoda both ran into their igloo and found Kya dead, Sokka probably joined them a bit later. Their mother, his wife. The worst part is Katara has seen it before. It's a painful reminder that back then (and for the following 6 years) Katara blamed herself for not being strong enough to save her mom. But this time everything's different. She's a master waterbender, she knows she's capable of saving Malina, that she can spare her dad from going through the same hurt he had years ago. I imagined that during this moment, Kya was knocking on Katara's conscience, telling her to "Go! You're strong enough now! You can do this, sweetie! Save her!.. For him.".

Also, I realized that this is a powerful parallel - someone Katara hates (or used to hate) finally earns her trust completely, proving that their feelings for her (as a friend / as a future stepmother) and her family are real, they really do care for her and have no intentions of betraying her or her loved ones ever again. This is exactly what happened to Zuko during Sozin's Comet - he jumped in front of Katara to protect her from getting struck by lightning, which was the final and most important act in his redemption arc (concerning her). Malina does the same in order to spare at least one of them (I mean Hakoda, since Aang could've easily flown back to safety) - she accepts her fate (her eyes tear up) and willingly releases her hold on Hakoda's hand. Neither character knew that Katara would (or could heal the damage made by lightning) save them. In a way, Zuko and Malina have a similar history when it comes to befriending Katara. And this is definitely something I really love. I'm satisfied with how Malina and Katara's relationship was handled, how she earned the girl's trust by proving that her feelings for her dad were sincere. I knew it'd have to be something big because, like I said in my previous review, Katara can hold a grudge.

Cut to the next day and I admit that I wasn't prepared for this moment - Sokka and Katara visiting their mother's grave. I was really confused at first because I thought the water tribe siblings went to the place where they found Aang, but the iceberg had melted and the ground had resurfaced. I needed to read Katara's lines twice before the reality sank in and I understood why she was saying those words. The Kya-Katara (mother-daughter) dynamic has always been a touchy issue for me, too, so I broke down in tears and sobbed for a longer while. How could I have been so foolish? I still cannot believe it..

Remember when a 14-year-old Katara confessed to Haru that her mother's necklace was the only thing left of her and it wasn't enough for her? Katara, now 17 years old, has realized that there's something much bigger she inherited, someone who's been with her all this time - Kya's courage, her mom's been with her all along. This is an important step forward (in healing) for Katara. She understands that her mother's love is still inside her heart, similarly to how Aang learned (from guru Pathik) that the air nomads' love for him is still inside his heart. Look at him staring at her lovingly as she mourns. Aang's proud of Katara for reaching this realization.

----------x----------

I'm gonna finish with something slightly happier, something I haven't discussed yet, but it's connected to the previous scene. The next living southern waterbenders, Sura and Siku. I managed to completely nail this subplot when I guessed what'll happen in the third part in my previous review (I'm so happy I foresaw it!). The only part I didn't see coming was Katara explaining the loss of her mom and the meaning behind it to the little girls. I bet she explained this the same way to her daughter Kya years later, I've even written my version of this happening over here. Sura and Siku understanding what Katara told them and demonstrating their waterbending to her deceased mother shows that just like the Air Nation will be reborn in 70 years, the Southern Water Tribe is very much alive. All in all, a very sympathetic ending for this subplot.

The waterbending lesson with Pakku, Katara, Aang, Sura and Siku is among my favourite scenes from this trilogy. Aang stating that Katara helped him end the war, the two of them waterbending together to show the little girls what they can (learn to) do, Katara kneeling down to the girls' height and slightly tilting her head to talk to them (her motherly side showing) - all so precious.

Do you know how children usually say things like they are? Well, I adored how they spoke about Master Pakku, it was so sincere, truthful and funny altogether. But I also understood why the girls were scared / didn't wanna show their waterbending to him. Think about it from their point of view - a strange old man who can waterbend happens to find their well-hidden village, tells them that the Hundred Year War is over and they don't have to hide their waterbending anymore. For all they know, it may be a trap and those monsters could still be out there. Where's the proof? Sura and Siku aren't convinced until they meet Aang, who confirms it.

There were so many bits and pieces I really loved that happened after Sura and Siku ran away. Pakku being sarcastic towards both Hakoda and Aang, the latter blushing as a result and the former thanking him for trying to teach those girls. Hakoda was interested in seeing what the two of them (I believe he's referring to Katara and Aang) were up to, addressing them as Team Avatar grows on him. I'm telling you, I love Hakoda so much!

And then there's the entire scene with him, his baby girl Katara, her boyfriend Aang and his pet winged lemur Momo. I love this scene for so many reasons! Including Momo finding something to eat and Aang making sure that he's well-fed (as well as the way he gulps that fruit in one bite). Hakoda being proud of Katara for becoming such a great healer, wondering whether he'd still be alive if it weren't for her (just.. I'll never get over this). Katara worrying about her dad's health (she gently wraps her arms around his), telling him about Team Avatar and her concerns about their home with Aang defending her arguments about the plans. This is the kind of scene about Hakoda, Katara and Aang spending time together that I've been wanting to see.

----------x----------

To sum up, the only solution we didn't get was an explanation as to why the Southern Water Tribe is considered to be a colony of the Northern Tribe. However, while writing this review, I thought of a wild theory I'm gonna put out there. We're aware that Sokka was the last known Chief, right? If he didn't have any descendants and Katara didn't want to take on the role (being devastated after both Aang and her brother's death), then wouldn't that mean the southern tribe remained without a chief? So the Northern Chief automatically claimed control of both tribes, whereas the South still had the Council of Elders (who would later choose Tonraq to be the new chief). It didn't happen 70 years ago during Aang's time, it happened 70 years later during Korra's time. Just my idea I thought I should share.

The ending where Team Avatar is cooking together, people/ world leaders from all 4 nations are present (note the 4 elements in the correct order forming half of a circle on both sides), sitting together like family and enjoying a good celebratory meal - I believe this is a very nice way to wrap up these series for now. Gave me warm feelings and really melted my heart. Also, chubby Momo in the end!

I'd love it if the next trilogy continued by showing Team Avatar leaving the South Pole. But just before they leave, Aang and Hakoda talk privately and he asks for Katara's hand in marriage. Hakoda gladly agrees and they leave, Katara is unaware of what Aang wanted to talk to about with her dad (he keeps it a secret). Aang would propose in the third part of the trilogy, very near the end. I'm weak, but it's a great opportunity to ask and this is a moment in their lives that I really wanna see!

In conclusion, the comic trilogy "North and South" has touched me in so many ways - I've smiled and laughed, shed countless tears during heartbreaking/heartwarming scenes. It's reminded me of how much I love the Southern Water Tribe and Katara's family. How much joy I feel seeing Team Avatar back together again. I cannot possibly put all of these feelings into words, but ultimately I'm more than content with how everything turned out and very happy to own copies of these three parts. "North and South" may just as well be ranked at the very top of my list.

[fanwright]

Sokkla FMA AU

This one is pretty long. Click “read more” for the full story.

Resenbool never struck Azula as particularly significant place. 

As far as her eyes could see the rolling hills stretched out in all directions like a vast green sea, the tall grasses swaying gently in the spring sun, trees rustling in the breeze. She could almost pretend like the war never touched this place, if it weren’t for the occasional crater the farmers in the area worked their fields around.

The parking brake groaned as she pulled the lever up, killing the engine with the turn of a key as the harsh metallic chatter of the pistons died away. As Azula opened the door to her automoblie she could hear bells clatter in the distance as a lone shepherd rushed his flock along, sheep baying as they marched away. Quaint living. Green, innocent, and unmolested. The sands of Ishval seemed so far away, distant as a half-remembered dream. 

Azula sighed, breathing in the air as her gaze settled upon the portly old shepherd, the past echoing through her. If she could truly forget.

She didn’t miss the look in the old man’s eyes as he quickly turned away, waddling behind his flock. Disgust, fear, hatred, it didn’t matter. It was all the same to her. She wasn’t welcomed by most in Resenbool, but they would, under penalty of imprisonment or death, tolerate her presence. After all, a State Alchemist was backed by the central government’s authority - a living weapon, ready to be unchained and let loose upon Amestria’s enemies.

Just as they were let loose in Ishval.

Boots crunching against the dirt path up to the small cottage, Azula stopped in front of the door, just shy of knocking on the wood. Her automotive arm shook, joints grinding and chinking against steel plating. Little electrical pulses coursed through the wiring as her eye twitched painfully, grinding her teeth slowly as faces of the dead flashed through her mind.

She reigned herself in, pinching her eyes shut, clutching her metallic arm as she breathed through her nose, fighting the pain. 

A tune-up. She just needed a tune up. Faulty wiring, that was the problem. A quick fix and she was fit to go.

Her voice trembled for moment, “Don’t break.”

Looking up, she opened her eyes to the sun shining above. Listening to the trees sway in the wind, she took a deep breath, swiftly matted out the creases in her royal blue uniform, straightened her garrison cap, and in one decisive motion tapped her metal fingers against the door.

With a light grunt and a final turn of the screwdriver, Sokka tightened the last of the steel forearm plates, “Okay, that ought to do it. Try it out and move it around a bit.”

Azula swiftly spat out the piece of thick rubber she bit down on, rising from her seat beside the workbench, wiping the sweat trickling down her forehead, matting out the creases in her tank top,

She huffed, “Finally.”

Sokka narrowed his eyes, “’Finally’? You can’t rush this stuff you know.”

Rolling her shoulders, she stretched out the steel prosthetic, mechanical fingers grasping at the air, “You take your time while I sit in pain.”

He rolled his eyes, folding his arms, “You won’t take the anesthetic. I keep telling you there’s no shame in it. Just because you’ve got wires in that arm doesn’t mean you can’t feel anything. You know how careful I have to be installing that arm?”

A short pause. She stiffened her back and her metallic fingers cease to move. 

She turns to him with a sharp glare, “I’m aware.”

Sighing, Sokka threw his hands up, mimicking surrender, “Fine, whatever, you’re the State Alchemist, you obviously know more about the fine arts of mechanical engineering and surgical medicine than the guy who practices both.” 

Boot’s shifted against the worn floor boards as Azula took a stance, jabbing her mechanical arm at the air. Again she did it, falling into a practiced rhythm, testing for any tension in the joints, wary for any rogue electrical spark that might throw her off balance. 

Smooth and effortless, as if fresh off the assembly line. He certainly had the touch.

“Lucky for you I didn’t have to do a complete overhaul,” Sokka said, rising from his seat as he observed Azula, listening for squeaks or screeches in the joints, “Wires in the bicep and joint connecting it to the pneumatic actuator were worn out, so it was just a matter of replacing and hooking them back up to your nervous system.”

Folding his arms, he leaned against a wall and watched Azula deliver and uppercut to an invisible foe. She was already sweating, flaring her nostrils with each jab.

He smirked, practically talking to himself, “And then a routine oiling, a bit of polishing here and there. Oh, and I did have replace the steel plating near the shoulder joint with something lighter. Just so happened to have some new aluminum alloy plates lying around. Figure that would take some stress off the ball bearings in the shoulder joint.”

She stopped abruptly, looking at him through narrowed eyes, “Yes. It feels… different.”

“Well, good then! It should. I mean, the plates are from an M1911F model, but the good thing about that line is that you can practically jury-rig it to the earlier M1910 series models without anyone being the wiser.”

“Hm. Very resourceful of you.”

Sokka covered his mouth, feigning coquettishness, “Oh, stop it, you! You’re going to make me blush.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning, “Your sarcasm is as grating as ever.”

“I consider it a healthy sense of humor myself,” he said, lifting himself from the wall as he strolled into the kitchen the next room over, “I fix up people’s limbs for a living now, Azula, its messy work. Gotta laugh about something now and then!” 

Leaving her to freshen up and put on her coat, Sokka browsed the cupboards for a few clean drinking glasses. He hardly had any as it was and most of the dishes were in the sink, still dirty from the night before. Sighing, he took two from the top of the stack of dirty plates, slung a nearby dishrag over his shoulder, and rinsed out the glasses with some soap. Satisfied, he dried them off and set them on the nearby table. 

As he was rummaging through the cupboards again he heard Azula’s heavy footsteps against the creaking floorboards, taking her seat at one of the chairs near the small table.

“Hang on, I’ll find it,” he said, pushing aside cups and dishes, “Its here somewhere…”

He could feel her eyes on his back, judging him, “Don’t you remember where it is?”

“Sometimes? I mean, I like to switch it up from time to time, just to throw off any cops that might search my place. Ishval Whiskey is both rare, out of production, and illegal here. Resenbool is in a dry county after all.”

“No, you don’t need to ‘switch it up’, just keep it in place you will remember.”

He looked back at her, “I do remember where it is… I think.”

She shook her head derisively, “Ugh. Idiot. Its in the last cupboard on the right.”

Quirking and eyebrow, Sokka slowly made his way to the cupboard she specified. Rummaging through it and looking toward the back, sure enough, he found what he was looking for.

He blinked, “Oh. There it is.”

Azula merely inspected the metal digits on her automotive hand, causally clinking them together, “I told you so.”

“How did you know?”

“Because when I was here last week, you got a little too drunk. I set you on your bed and put the bottle there.”

He searched his memory, tilting his head to the side, “Ah. Right.”

“Indeed.”

Gently, she took hold of a nearby glass, teetering it from side to side, “Now lets have that drink shall we? I’m parched.”

Blinking, Sokka shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the dark blue bottle of whiskey from behind the stack of plates.

“I’ll get the snacks then.”

The sun had set over the horizon and the stars began glinting in the night sky just outside the cottage window. The candlelights caught in the empty whiskey bottle. The cheese and crackers had long since been eaten. Time had slipped away, the waning hours filled with drinks, stories, and laughter.

As the kitchen grew dim, the last light of the sun snuffed out over the hills, Sokka was content to share the silence with Azula. There was little to say, except what he feared would slip out in a sudden, drunken outburst.

His finger traced a circle over the rim of his empty glass, his mind swimming in warm bliss, frogs croaking outside his window. Not a bad way to spend an evening he supposed.

The chair Azula sat in creaked as she leaned back against it. She idly searched the pockets of her military coat and pulled out her silver pocket watch, flipping the lid open and checking the time. Even in the dim light Sokka could still make out the pentagram - the emblem - of the Amestrian State Alchemists carved over the surface.

She sighed as she tossed the watch on the table, her voice alien and harsh, eyes glued the half-empty glass in front of her, “ Do you remember it? Ishval?”

Sokka blinked, puzzled by her tone. She reached out and gently traced her metal fingers over the emblem on the watch.

“I… try not to. Its hard sometimes,” he said, clearing is throat.

She slowly nodded her head, “It keeps you up at night, doesn’t it?” 

He winced at her words, lips tightly pursed, “Volunteers like me had it rough too, Azula.”

“No doubt. Eight years of bloody attrition.”

“Eight years of dying. Fuck. If I’d had known what I signed up for I would have never joined the state army. I don’t know how a damn fool like me made through.”

She chuckled, without a hint of cheer or joy, running her hands through her neatly combed hair, “Of course you don’t. A little man like you, hunched in a ditch clutching his rifle, against the fanatical Ishvalans hordes. I wager you and your friends cheered as we Alchemists came in and cut them all down for you.”

His chest tightened painfully and a cold shiver snaked up his spine. The smell of cordite from spent shells thick in his nose, the course white sand blinding him, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. 

The sizzle and pop of burning flesh consumed by azure flames.

Sokka’s darted to the empty whiskey bottle, yearning for another drink. He looked to Azula instead, her gaze leveled at him, “… some of us did.”

Azula scoffed, “Did you?”

He gulped hard, as if trying to swallow a rock lodged in his throat, “I don’t remember really. Too busy keeping my head down or-”

The bone caved in as he bashed the bastard’s head in with the butt of his rifle, the sand turning red. Again and again and again and again and-

“-trying to survive.”

Sokka started to rub his hands together, feeling cold. He could still feel how his sweaty palms clenched the rifle, how the man squirmed under him, grasping at his uniform.

“You did what you had to do,” she heard him say.

He turned to the alchemist. Her eyes were still fixed on the silver pocket watch, her metal fingers resting over the smooth surface.

“Was that all though? Just… following orders? Kill them all before they kill us?”

She fixed him with glare through narrowed eyes, “Orders. Hmph. Orders are what got us stuck in that quagmire in the first place. Command sends recruits into the most barren place in Amestria over a few scuffles, thinking firepower and numbers will win the day, and then they send in the State Alchemists to fix their stupid mistake.”

Her mechanical fingers tighten over the pocket watch. Sokka’s eyes widened as the silver metal buckled under the pressure. He could hear the glass breaking and the little gears grind to a halt.

She spoke through gritted teeth, “And to fight what, Sokka? To kill what? A rabble of fucking civilians?”

He stared off into the shadows of the kitchen, trying to make sense of it all, looking for an answer, “I… I-I don’t-”

He leveled his sights on her as she clutched her father’s arm tightly, the old man’s head covered in bandages, both their faces pressed against the stone wall. 

God. No.

She looked like Katara.

“Aim!”

“For god sake, why!? Kill me, not them! I shot your friend, why should the rest die!”

His insides churned. The oldman’s voice rang in his ears. He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to-

“Fire!” 

He choked on a single word, “… yes.”

And then It hit him. It hit him as hard as the bullet he put in the girl’s head. He felt sick all over again.

Sokka turned to Azula, “That’s exactly what we did. And now there’s nothing left of Ishval.”

Her eyes seemed to sear his soul, wrath drenched in grief. She started breathing through her nose and fixed a menacing glare on him. 

Without warning, she shot up from her seat, teeth clenched, the silver pocket watch clutched in her automotive hand, ready to throw it at him. He jumped from his chair as he shielded his face, falling to the floor, glasses cracking against the wood as they fell.

He expected fire to conjure from her hand at the flick of her wrist. She could do it easily - the transmutation circle etched into her glove allowed her to conjure flames at her leisure. He had seen so many die that way, a trail of ash and bone left in her wake, blue cinders carrying on the wind.

But there was nothing. No fire, no smoke, no seared flesh. Only the sound of steel splintering wood as the table shattered to pieces under Azula’s ferocious strength. Her eyes desperately searched the dim room, looking for a way out of the dark. She ambled about, finally collapsing to her knees, the drinks taking their toll on her. Gears and shards of silver fell through her steel fingers as she buried her face in her palms.

Sokka could barely hear Azula’s voice as her shoulders bucked violently, her body slouched forward, “Are… a-are we monsters?”

He stared at her as he laid there on the floor, unable to answer. His eyes stung and her words began to sink in.

“Murderers? W-Were-,” she tried feebly to rein herself in, “Were we soldiers or exterminators, Sokka?” 

In the dimness of the kitchen he could barely make out her form. Fighting back a painful headache as his vision blurred, he slowly got up and stumbled his way toward Azula, feet shuffling passed shards of glass.

He tried to speak, “I… want to believe we were soldiers, Azula.”

With one swift motion and a hard pull, his father ripped the medal from his uniform and threw it to the floor. The flimsy bronze metal bent and the colorful ribbon was rend from the pin.

For bravery - for mowing down dozens with a maxim gun in a single afternoon.

Katara held her mother as they looked on, their faces hard and unkind.

“Get out! I won’t have a murderer in this house!”

“Dad, wait, just let me-”

“I said get out!”

Kneeling down beside her, he wrapped his arms around her body, face nuzzled into the nape of her neck, “But its hard to pretend we were. Its hard to keep lying.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he pulled her in close. She was so warm and he felt so cold. The war only ever drained him of his strength, even after it was over, and it was a struggle just to keep it from his mind. He felt so selfish as he held her tight. He didn’t want to let go.

His eyes widened as Azula’s arms wrapped around his neck. He could feel her tears trickle down and touch his cheeks, her metal hand grasping tightly at the back of his head, the last pieces of the pocket watch falling between her fingers. She couldn’t hold back anymore. All he could do was hold her, knowing it was just a futile gesture.

Time slowly passed away as the silence of the night crept by. He stayed like that with her, but for how long he didn’t know. He just held her until the tears dried, until his grip around her waist slackened and their breathing calmed, the war heavy in their hearts.

Her voice was slow and measured, “I can still hear it. At night, when the crickets finally sleep.”

Sokka’s hand went to her head, gently running his fingers through her hair.

She breathed in his scent stared off into the darkness, “Howitzers when they shake the ground, bullets when they pass over your head. That horrendous, deafening noise when the maxim guns open up. It just won’t leave.”

His eyes twitched at the memory and he sighed into her hair. He could still feel the vibration of the gun, how it shook him to the bone like a buzz-saw through wood, how the muzzle flashes blinded him just before he tore men in half.

She continued, “… There was is this platoon trapped in the heart of the Old City. I remember passing you by when we took the minaret over looking El Zeyd Square. You waved at me.”

“… I remember. You didn’t wave back.”

“They we’re pinned down. Going to be overrun. A runner from the platoon managed to get through. Said they needed a State Alchemist. I rushed there as fast as I could.”

Sokka closed his eyes, rubbing her head, remembering the sun baked ruins of the Old City.

“Runner took a bullet as we rushed down an alley. Died before he hit the ground. Didn’t even hear where the shot came from with all the noise. I just kept running. I knew I was close.”

She paused, her body tensing up.

“Azula?” he asked.

“… I rushed into a building, choking on dust. Started to…” she gulped, clearing her throat, “to clear out the rooms. I could hear them, the Ishvalans, on the next floor above me.”

Another pause. Sokka didn’t press her. 

She soldered on regardless, “… They never saw me coming. Room by room, I burned them out. I didn’t stop, not even when I choked on the smoke. I just kept going, kept burning everything I saw. I can’t even remember how many I killed. Its all just a blur.”

His hands started to shake as a cold shiver coursed through him. The Azure Flame Alchemist. That’s what they called her. A walking, breathing flame-thrower.

“And in those flames I…” she stuttered, choking on her words, “I saw him. This little boy. Dancing. And screaming. Blue fire just… consuming him. Family burning up as he tried to escape.”

Sokka’s eyes widened. Her voice trembled as she continued, “He… rushed out of the room. Tackled me. I kicked him off with my boot and he… he hit his little head on the wall and started squirming. Crying…” 

She buried her head in in the crook of his neck. Sokka could feel warm tears trickle down his skin.

“Tried to put him out. Made a special transmutation circle on the floor as quick as I could. Made some water for him. He just… he just wouldn’t stop crying.” 

Azula’s arms recoiled from around his neck as her automotive hand started to shake violently. She slowly rung her hands, as if trying to wipe some stain off of them.

“I tried to drag him away. His little shirt crumbled to ash. His flesh just…” she shook her head, “… just peeled off. Could feel his bones in the palm of my hands as I lifted him up.”

Her voice cracked as she sniffed through her nose, “I ran with him in my arms. Left the platoon to die. Took him all the way back to our lines to a bivouac. He screamed the entire way. I laid him down in front of a medic, threatened him. Told him to save the kid.”

She ran her palms over her face and breathed, rage in place of sorrow, “… he didn’t even look at him. He just… called over a soldier and told him to ‘do it’. And he ended the boy. With one, two bashes to his head, right in front of me.” 

She looked at Sokka, searching for answers he couldn’t give, “I never did that again. I made sure I followed orders, made sure I didn’t crack, and they watched me just in case I would. That boy is my nightmare, Sokka. Reminds me that I’m a monster.” 

Her eyes were heavy and her head lolled from sheer exhaustion.

Azula looked away, “I’m so tired. So fucking tired. I just want a night where I don’t see him.”

Without thinking, with no words to reassure her, fatigue making him groggy, Sokka merely kissed her forehead. She barely registered the gesture.

“Stay here tonight. Got a spare cot,” he said, helping her up as he lifted off the floor.

Nodding, she staggered through the dark out of the kitchen door, turning the corner down a short hallway, Sokka close behind. She struggled to turn the door handle, cursing under her breath as it finally opened.

He felt there was something he could say, something to tell her that everything would be alright, that she wasn’t alone. His head began to swim, the whiskey playing hell on his thoughts, and the words just wouldn’t come out. It was a struggle just to stand straight.

As she entered the spare room, he bit his lower lip, desperately trying to say something.

But what could he say? How could he possibly help Azula and tell her that things would be okay if the same demons haunted his every thought? She wouldn’t believe him.

He slurred the only words he could think of, “G’night.”

Yet, just as he turned away, Sokka heard her call out to him.

“Stay.”

He pinched his eyes shut. He didn’t know what came over him. He just knew that a warm body beside him would make the cold nights a little bearable for a change. Keep the nightmares away. He felt so empty sleeping alone.

When he entered the room and closed the door Azula was already laying on the cot, her back toward him as she slept facing the wall. She didn’t bother taking off her boots or her uniform. That suited him fine. As he laid down beside her he left his clothes on as well. He was too tired to even unbutton his shirt. 

As he wrapped an arm around her waist she scooted in and arched her back to the curve of his chest, metallic fingers gliding across his forearm. They were surprisingly tender. He nuzzled his head in the nape of her neck, lips on her skin, arms holding her tight.

It was deep into the night before Sokka fell asleep. He listened to Azula softly breathe, fatigue finally claiming her, steel fingers twitching now and again against his arm. Her words still rang in his thoughts, keeping him awake.

Are we monsters?

He feared the answer. There was blood on his hands, on her hands, and nothing could wipe away the stains. 

He fell asleep, silently praying for an answer, hoping for a way to take it all back, to anyone above who would listen.

The last thing he heard was a lone cricket’s reply.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Selenophobia

Quick Halloween fic. Just because I see so many vampire Azula fics; Azula is a werewolf and Sokka is a werewolf hunter.

A piercing howl cuts through the night and all he has is one silver bullet. He shivers under the full moon light. Winter comes early this year, the mid-autumn chill is setting very deeply in and turning to something much colder. It has already snowed and there a hefty piles of it still left especially in the forest where the sun can’t penetrate. This year is going to be harsh, he notes to himself. The howl drops into something more mournful and somber as he enters the woods. A heavy mist yawns out from the mouth of the forest; he can only see three or four trees ahead of him, hardly optimal for hunting weres. It doesn’t help that he only has lantern light to guide him. He groans to himself, wondering how he’d let the village sucker him into this one.

 He wanders in the direction of the howl leaves and snow crunching beneath his feet. He realizes that he is anything but subtle. He wants to protect his village and his sister, but he isn’t even sure he can protect himself. With the fog so heavy, the wolf could be directly in front of him but he wouldn’t see it until it had his throat in its hideous hybrid hands.

 The howl comes again, but this time interwoven with human wail. It is drawn out and almost makes him feel for the monster that he is going to slay. He isn’t looking down and his boot nudges against something that saps his empathy away at once.

The man is laying on his side, missing a good chunk of his torso and part of his thigh. A musket lay discarded several feet away. It was as useless as a toy.

 Another cry rings out, but it is far more woman than wolf. He shudders because it closer than he initially thought it to be. He thinks maybe only a five-minute run to the east. Looking at the husk of a man he growls to himself and dashes through the tree line. He is going to kill it, but a bullet through its heart and hack its head off for show. Let it see what it is like to be dismembered.

 The wolf isn’t hard to find between the snapped underbrush and the trail of blood and innards. On one occasion as Sokka goes to move a branch out of the way, his hand falls upon something sticky and gooey. He cringes and a chill goes up and down his spine. It is no time to act like a fool but he can’t help it; he is practically squealing as he wipes whatever it was, away, onto the nearest clump of moss.

 He is lucky that she hadn’t taken notice of his ruckus.

 She is on her hands and knees, shivering against the biting cold. A spill of inky hair cascading over naked shoulders, a sharp contrast to the pale skin it tumbles over. She shudders and gasps, in an apparent struggle against whatever pains had just tremored through her teeny body.

She looks up at him almost desperately, her eyes bearing signs of fatigue and suffering beyond his understanding. Blood is smeared across her mouth and drips from her chin. She wipes at it and when her hand comes away tinged with red she stares at it for a considerable lapse of time, until something registers in her mind. And she trembles harder, her eyes some wider, she looks up at Sokka, faintly horrified.

When she does, he recognizes her. She is the wealthy girl that they had carted off to the psych ward as her brother watched, a few nights prior. The girl who is apparently prone to fits and emotional outburst. The girl who cried about how the moon was after her. The girl who had been dragged from her home thrashing and screaming.

The girl who had escaped a few nights after being put in the ward.

 “I told them that it was after me. I told them that it would get me.” No sooner than the words leave her lips, is she crumpled on the forest floor, lost to the world for a time. Sokka observes her sleeping form. It is venerable, unprotected. Suddenly he is aware, once more, of the weight of the musket in his hand. He only has to fire; one quick shot and he can rid the village of its monster. He can finish what he set out to do. He wonders if she had known what he’d come to do to her. He cocks the gun and fixes it on her heart.

 He studies her face, it is so human. Not a trace of wolf remained, her skin is soft and delicate. She looks rather peaceful. And perhaps she is, so long as the moon remains crescent or gibbous. He almost doesn’t want to do it, but he had been given a task. He wanted to protect the village and his sister. He had made a volunteer of himself and now he has to go through with it.

A shot rings out, loud and echoing. It sends owls from their perches and true wolves into hiding. It carries across the rickety wooden bridge and into the village where children cower away and farmers rejoice. Where mothers sigh in relief and Zuko jolts up in his bed. The entirety of the town releases a breath it didn’t know it was holding, it comes out like smoke from chimneys.

He carefully lifts the girl up, she is so cold.

 .oOo.

 She no longer feels pine needles nipping at her skin and the air doesn’t feel quite so cold. She can smell some sort of tea, she is too groggy to make out the type. It is still dark, but a lesser dark. The sky is less black and more of a deep indigo, many of the stars are beginning to flee, lest they be caught by  the sun. And the moon, it still glares through the window, its spell still has her temper in its grasp. It leaves her with a very feral desire to escape the roof she is under.

But before she can bend to the tug of the moon, the boy from the forest makes an appearance. She spies his gun leaning against the fire place, it only registers then, that he had, had it with him the whole time. That she was every bit the game as she was the hunter.

 She snarls at him and she knows that he is aware that she has put the pieces together. Her teeth a bared in such a nasty way, that the boy takes a step or two back and she knows that the moon doesn’t plan on releasing her until the sun forces back behind the horizon.

 Azula fights to level herself. With more effort than it should have ever taken, the snarl is gone and her expression is at least somewhat neutral again. She can tell that the boy is hesitant to approach her. She does nothing to alleviate his fears nor to hike them up to a higher level. At last he makes a decision. He wraps a generously warm blanket around her shoulders and puts a blaze into the fireplace.

 She doesn’t understand his charity and compassion. He was supposed to kill her, instead he is warming her and making her comfortable. In her torment she had tormented others, she thinks she has killed people. Yet, he is treating her as though she is a girl who had simply gotten lost and maimed in the woods.

She tugs the blanket tighter, wishing she truly was just a girl who had wandered too far and too late at night.

 He leaves the room and comes back with a steaming bowl of stew and the tea she had smelled earlier. “This should warm you up.” He notes.

 She accepts the meal and stares quietly into the fire. She brings her fingers to her chin; he has cleaned her up too. “Why?”  She asks at last. Her eyes don’t leave the blazing hearth.

 “I don’t know.” He confesses. “I just couldn’t do it. You looked so…”

 “Human.” She finishes flatly. “But you wouldn’t have thought twice otherwise.”

 The boy is quiet. “That’s not necessarily true.”

 Azula rolls her eyes and takes another drink from the glass. “You’re telling me that you wouldn’t have shot if you’d seen a wolf with a bloody maw?” He looks at his palms and she knows that she is right. There is no compassion until the human beneath is exposed. “So you would have put a bullet trough my heart.” She continues just as nonchalantly. “My body would have dropped and reverted into its original form. What would you have done then?” He still doesn’t answer and it vexes her, because she already knows the answer.

 And he says the thing that peeves her the most. “I would have tried to help you. I’d have taken you to the physicians…”

 “People tend to forget that there is a human beneath the wolf.” She pauses, “At least until the claws retract. Then the sympathy comes out, especially if they see a woman’s face. They never try to reach them through the wolf, but they always feel bad when they see the human bleeding on the floor.”

 She sees him swallow. She almost feels bad for guilting him.

 “Well wouldn’t you shoot a beast?” He cringes immediately after he says it.

 But she doesn’t, she is used to hearing it. Wolf or not they treated her like so. “Would it surprise you if I said I’d kill both in a heartbeat?” She half-chuckles, “humans are beasts too, really.”

 “I don’t think that you would.” He replies.

 “Then you don’t know me at all. You have no idea what you just saved.”

 Azula knows that she has left him wondering if he had made the right decision. She hopes that he can figure it out, because she can’t.