#oh boy its time for the water sage arc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

passable-talent · 4 years ago

Note

May I perhaps request a part 8 for the dai li series? I'm very very hype for what's to come for the finale!

should’ve figured this would happen within 20 min

ya boi returns after a week of classes with significantly better mental health! not enough to make me think I’ll be here more often than I have, but enough to give me the passion i need to f u c k i n g d e l i v e r

and now...

THE MOMENT YOUVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

The day of Sozin’s Comet.

The comet tore its way across the sky behind Appa, vaporizing clouds and turning the sky blood red, as though it knew the terror and destruction it was meant to bring. Seated in Appa’s saddle behind Katara and Zuko, you looked over his tail at it, its brightness in the sky that rivaled the sun. You wondered when it would behind to effect firebenders- you wondered if Zuko could already feel it.

“Zuko, don’t worry,” said Katara, catching the anxiety you had noticed slipping off of him like waves. “We can take Azula.”

“I’m not worried about her,” Zuko said, “I’m worried about Aang. What if he doesn’t have the guts to take out my father?” You made brief eye contact with Katara before moving forward, getting closer to the conversation.

“What if he loses?” Zuko’s voice was clear in its trepidation.

“Aang won’t lose,” Karata said, confidence in her tone. “He’s gonna come back. He has to.” You put your hand on her shoulder, settling down on your knees between the two of them.

“Of course he will,” you said, looking over your shoulder once again at the comet. “He wouldn’t let us face Ozai without him.” Zuko caught his reaction before it made its way to his face, controlling it. But all the same, he had to wonder- had he even told you his father’s name? And referring to him as ‘Ozai’, rather than ‘the Firelord’- a disrespect that even some of the others of the team hadn’t done.

None of the three of you wore armor. What would metal do against fire, anyway? You wore the uniform of a Dai Li student, or what had once been. Its long, loose sleeves had been ripped at your biceps and the baggy pants ripped just below your knees, so that all that was left to be recognized was the symbol of Ba Sing Se on your chest, and the gold trim as it hung at your waist. If you were going to win the war, today, you’d do it for your home city.

You didn’t wear shoes.

“There’s the palace,” Katara said, leaning forward to get as good a look at the courtyard as she could. “It’s almost empty.”

“Except for Azula,” you said, narrowing your eyes as though that would help you see. “And those guys.”

“Those are the Fire Sages. Everyone else is either with the fleet or at home, waiting for the victory,” Zuko said, his normal brand of anger yet nonchalance gracing his voice. Drawing closer, the words of the Fire Sages drifted up to where you could hear them, high on Appa’s back.

“By decree of Phoenix King Ozai, I now crown you Firelord-” he hands swung down to place the crown in Azula’s hair, but he paused, noticing Appa beside one of the towers. Appa bellowed as he approached, and Azula’s words were lost beneath the sound. Appa landed at the steps of the palace, and Zuko stood.

“Sorry, but you’re not going to become Firelord today.” He leapt down, leaving you and Katara on the saddle. “I am.” Azula’s laugh ground on your ears, shivering you to the bone. She looked... unkempt.

“You’re hilarious.” Katara approached Zuko’s side, and you flanked his other.

“And you’re going down,” she levied against Azula, and you couldn’t help but find a smile sliding to your face. Azula has had this coming, just like you said to Iroh only hours ago. You were happy that you got to be a part of the force that took her down, after all the pain she had brought into your life. She was a monster.

“Wait,” Azula said, stopping the head sage from placing the headpiece on her, “You want to be Firelord?” She stood, and walked toward the edge of the stairs. You didn’t like standing beneath her. “Fine. Let’s settle this. Just you and me, brother.” She spat the word with contempt that you wanted to wipe right off of her face. “The showdown that was always meant to be- Agni Kai!”

“You’re on,” Zuko growled before you could even react. You turned your head, noticing Katara had done the same.

“Zuko-” you said, concern in your voice. You’d come all this way to help, and Katara had too, and now he was going to take her on without you?

“What are you doing? She’s playing you,” Katara said, narrowing her eyes. “She knows she can’t take all three of us, so she’s trying to separate us.” You wanted to reach out and take his hand, as though to pull him toward reason, but something held you back. You stole a glance at Azula, and the sick, gloating smile on her face.

“I know,” Zuko said, and your eyes widened slightly, surprised that he knew the trap but still walked into it. “But I can take her this time.”

“But even you admitted to your uncle that you would need help facing Azula.”

“Zuko, that’s why we’re here for you,” you added, finally breaking your gaze from the princess.

“There’s something off about her,” he said, “I can’t explain it, but she’s slipping.” It was like you could feel her gaze on the side of your head as you looked at her brother, like you could feel her weighing her decisions, like she did back in Ba Sing Se, when she manipulated you and Zuko both. It made you shiver.

“And this way,” Zuko said, reaching out and taking your hand while he looked at Katara, “no one else has to get hurt.” You squeezed his hand, tightly, before letting go and circling him to Katara’s side. The courtyard before the steps of the palace were cleared, and the two siblings took up positions facing away from each other. You stood with Katara, not far from Zuko. It may have been against the rules, but still you wanted to stand by, in case you needed to interfere and help him. You were sure Katara felt the same way.

Slowly, the siblings stood, what felt like miles separating them.

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, brother,” Azula said in a near snarl, slicking her robe from her shoulders and discarding it to the ground. Zuko stood steadfast in his ready stance, calm.

“No you’re not.”

Azula took up her ready stance, and before you knew it, the battle had begun.

Until this moment, you hadn’t seen firebending under the influence of Sozin’s Comet. You understood the effect it was supposed to have had, but the pure size of the awful flames was something you could never have predicted, nor truly understood, if it weren’t for this moment, this amazing and intense shot of flame Azula conjured, her blue contrasting the sky and sun of dark red, and Zuko’s return, his bright yellows and oranges filling your vision and blocking Azula. The impact of the powers of the siblings created a wall that bisected the entirety of the palace grounds, and the heat and wind pushed your hair from your face.

From the fading wall burst Azula’s fire, four waves of flame accompanying her movements, and as Zuko split and deflected each one, you kept your eye on him. His footwork. His stance. He had learned from Aang, just a bit- don’t go straight to the attack. Weave with your partner. He had absolute control, but still your fists flexed, making the ground roll beneath your exposed toes. Your feet were firmly planted to the ground, so even when you blinked, you could follow the fight.

The two traded blows, their deflected flames launching up and out of the courtyard, coloring the clouds. Azula’s misfires tore through homes and set rooftops ablaze. Zuko’s blast toward her was matched, and as he adjusted his position it moved past him, a wall of cyan sliding past a wall of amber. Planting a foot to the floor, you rocked your fist up, a wall erupting from the stone floor to split Azula’s blaze in front of you and Katara. For the moment, you huddled together, watching as the fire circled you like a predator before disappearing. Quickly, you shot it down into its place, and once again took your eyes to the battle. The front of the palace was ablaze, and in a rage, Azula leapt toward Zuko, raining down on top of him what looked like a whip of fire. Planting his stance, he split it, a pathway opening straight from him to his sister. You recognized that move- Toph had taught it to you.

Azula was on one knee, collecting herself, and from far away it looked like she was breathing hard. Zuko, on the other hand, stood strong, and steady. He moved toward her two interwoven streams of flame that roared and grew as they moved, which she slid out from beside. You couldn’t look away, even as tears fought to moisten your eyes from their onslaught of heat. Azula gave him a sloppy attack, and so he did what you could only describe as ascending, rising on a pillar of fire until he could swing an arc at her as he fell back down, splitting her next offense.

She swung around him, weaving, and he stood his ground, protecting himself. But he sensed the weakness that you could not see- as long as she was sliding on her flames, as long as she wasn’t connected to the ground, he could break her root. He sent a wave of flame in all directions that broke up her fire, and sent her crashing to the ground.

She collected herself up, her hair fallen from its updo, fluttering around her and into her eyes. She had a madness in those eyes, a bloodthirst, but her stance was weak and her back hunched, like something was giving out beneath her.

“No lightning today?” You heard Zuko taunt. “What’s’a matter? Afraid I’ll redirect it?” He brought himself into an offensive stance, and, sensing danger, Katara ran closer. You followed, remembering your last run-in with Azula’s lightning. The night Aang died.

“Oh, I’ll show you lightning!” Azula snarled, and, following your instincts, you pushed Katara behind you. Rock would fare better against lightning than water.

With movements to her right, then her left, Azula collected her lightning, thunder echoing off of walls and mountainsides and clouds all around you. Through the earth you felt as Zuko took a deep breath, his heartbeat calm, but your eyes remained on the princess.

She gathered her two fingers to her chest, readying to fire. But then, you saw her eyes land on you.

Sometimes, a person sees a million moments pass in less than one.

You saw her stance pivot to you, and her arm extend toward you and Katara. But she wasn’t targeting Katara- she knew what you were, and what you had become. You had become a weakness, not in yourself, but in Zuko, and she had seen it in the way you looked at him in Ba Sing Se, and she had seen it in the way he had reached for your hand at the steps of the palace. You had endangered Katara, and so with the world moving by at the pace of a million moments in less than one, you launched forward to plant both feet, sweeping your arms from your sides and in, up, and from the tiles began to rise a wall.

And you saw, at a pace of a million moments in less than one, the way that Zuko ran between you and the lightning, the blue of it drowning out any other color. The strength in your arms faded, and the wall in front of you, meant to protect you and Katara, vaporized to sand, and crumbled back to the ground. Zuko absorbed the lightning, and shot it out above the walls of the volcano.

There he was left, then, trembling.

“Zuko!” you shouted, and Katara the same, both of you meaning to run toward him. But Azula reminded you that she was still a threat by slamming the ground in front of you with lightning, and you snapped your gaze to her.

Once, in a cavern deep beneath a palace in Ba Sing Se, Azula had come between you and Zuko. And that day, you’d been too scared- you were a kid who had never seen war. You weren’t ready to attack, and if you were, maybe that day would’ve changed how the war played out. Once, in a cavern deep beneath a palace in Ba Sing Se, you’d failed to keep Zuko from his sister.

It wouldn’t happen again.

You let out a scream and lifted a dozen boulders from the tiled ground, launching them at the princess, each in turn. Her laughter grated against your skin and you’d never moved with such rage in your bones before, the strain on your joints nothing compared to your heartbreak. Your hair and clothes whipped around you, put to the test by the speed with which you were moving. And yet, Azula alluded you.

“Y/N!” Katara called, and you wisened up for just long enough to realize that she was all too used to fighting off a rage-fueled attacker. You weren’t going to win this way, and now, winning was up to Katara and you. One more shot you pressed toward her, and using that as a distraction, you knocked her from her path with a stone launched from just beside her. It gave you enough time to slip with Katara from the battlefield into the awning-filled pavilions nearby.

You could barely keep your legs from turning you back to where Zuko still lay.

Azula brought her fire down from behind the pavilion where you and Katara had taken shelter, and so she chased you out, back toward the open yard. Katara made a break for Zuko, covering her hand in water so she could heal him, and as you ran, you threw your open hands down toward the ground, walls slicing up beside him, hopefully to keep him safe. But your path was interrupted by Azula’s flame, her laughter rocking your core as she conjured lightning, and so you shot back a boulder to divert her long enough for you and Katara to put just a bit more distance between you and her.

Still, her lightning caught up to you, and the explosion sent you both flying. Katara rolled, and you brought up a platform to land on properly. Azula landed on a nearby rooftop, giddy smiles on her face.

“I’d really rather our family physician look after little Zu-zu, if you don’t mind!” Her voice gave you pause, even as you launched to the side to avoid her lightning. What, really, was she doing, attacking her own brother? What had brought her to being the bloodthirsty murderer she was so prepared to become?

More flame chased Katara as she joined you behind a pillar, and you stomped your heel to the floor to raise even another wall between you and where Azula had just been.

“Zu-zu, you don’t look so good!” Azula snarled, and with her scream sent another bolt of lightning to Katara, the crack of thunder nearly deafening you as it split you from her, sending you in opposite directions.

After all that, though, when choosing who Azula would go after, who Azula would see as a threat, it wasn’t you. She went for Katara, and after a moment, you realized her goal- Katara was the only one, now, who could save Zuko’s life. And so you slipped to the side, running between columns, one eye on Azula and the other on Zuko. Katara froze both her and the princess in place, and immediately you knew who would come out the winner. You bolted to Zuko’s side, your feet carrying you shakily, until you crashed to your knees beside him. You lowered the walls you’d put up around him and rolled him to his back, finally laying eyes on the deep, raw wound on his stomach.

“Stay still,” you ordered him, extending one foot out to ground yourself, and you punched the tile in order to raise up a platform underneath him, where Katara could hope to work better. Shaking hands extended toward his face, and those tears that once tried to protect your eyes from the heat now tried to protect them from something far, far worse- the pain in Zuko’s expression.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you promised him, even as he flinched and groaned, even as your voice shook, even as you slowly cupped his face. The sound of a crash of water made you look over your shoulder, and the sight you found was relieving- Katara chaining Azula to the ground.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you promised again, your voice shaking even as this time, you knew you weren’t lying. Katara was there only a moment later, water already coating her hands, ready to press it down into his wound. It began to glow, and you watched as Zuko’s face first flexed with more pain, then relaxed. A tearful smile crossed your face and a small sob escaped your lungs, and he looked first to you, then to Katara.

“Thank you, Katara,” he said, taking a deep breath, and settling his muscles down onto the stone beneath him.

Azula had been defeated. Zuko was to be Firelord. For the moment, the world was triumphant, and you saw him smile. You’d waited a thousand moments for this one, right here, when everything was okay, and when he was safe.

You’d waited a thousand moments, but in this one, you couldn’t remember the ones where he’d hurt you, where you’d hated him. You couldn’t remember the ones filled with pain, and anger, the ones in which you walked away from him in anger, or threw up a wall between the two of you, or yelled at him. You couldn’t remember the ones in which he hadn’t done what you’d needed him to, or in which you had kept yourself at arms length.

All you could remember where the moments that truly brought you to this one, right here.

Finally, you leaned down, and you kissed him.

Your fingers slid into his hair at the back of his head, and cupped his head away from the hard stone beneath him. Your eyes closed, all you could do was feel, your instep pressed to the ground beneath you, your lips pressing against his. And you didn’t want him to move, to push himself, but he did cup your face, letting his fingertips feel into your scalp, as your hair fell down past your cheekbones.

When you parted, for a moment, you couldn’t do anything but stare.

“I love you,” you said, and a smile pulled at his lips.

“I love you, too.”

You brought your legs to your side to help him sit up, and then stand, one of your arms around his waist. Seemingly overwhelmed by her brother’s total victory, Azula truly fell, tears and screams leaving her while she flailed and spit fire. Finally, as you stood in front of her, in her truest, basest form, you recognized what you had never, any time you’d faced her.

She was never in control. She was just scared, and finally, she’d been beaten, just like she always feared.

Katara looked away. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

~~~

As you took Zuko into the palace to rest, Katara traversed the palace city, putting out fires. It would take work, but the city would be inhabitable again, once Zuko took the throne. He had a lot of recovering to do, but by the time the world had gathered for his coronation, he was well enough to walk on his own, and to kneel to receive the crown. Still, though, he had trouble reaching behind himself to put on his robes.

Luckily, you were always there to help him.

“So I suppose, after all this, you’re going to go home,” he said as you lifted his clothing to his shoulders.

“Hmm?”

“Back to Ba Sing Se. I know you miss it.” A small smile graced your lips, but you shook your head as you smoothed the wrinkles across his shoulders.

“I do. I miss the city, but it hasn’t been my home. Not for a long time.” You circled around Zuko to take his hand just beside him, regarding him with a warm expression, warmth toward him that you could only match with a few moments before.

“I thought I made it clear that this- right here-” you lifted his hand, interlocked with yours, up to his sight. “-This is my home.” He brought your hand down so that he could lean into a kiss, and you could enjoy it only for a moment before you had to pull away.

“I’ve got to go,” you said, a bright smile on your face. “Toph saved my seat, and Aang is waiting for you!” You rushed to the door, a small exit that wouldn’t be noticed by the crowd gathered out front, but you paused. “Good luck,” you said, giving him an honest and traditional Fire Nation bow.

“Your Highness.”

-🦌 Roe

tag list: @furblrwurblr @eridanuswave @bernadineisreborn @angxlicwanda @celamoon @mywigglybaby @silentwhispofhope @the-girl-in-the-box @mavix @eury-dice3 @ninipoo1 @bigbuckyenergy @lucensei @srgania @uncovered-mad-man @11mb0 @deansbbysblog @pillowjj @ilovespideyyy @heavensgaymenace @thearachna-kid @llama2264 @anime-simp @akariblue @lostgirlheart @kacchasu @ctrl-alt-jeon @tadpoledancer @i-bitch-you-bitch @wetleafwrites @lammello @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @kittyddandnyla @smol-vy @lana-isabelle @doomedcampesinos @luleck @izzieserra @little-miss-sleep-deprived @poofyhairuwu @astroninaaa @littleladdty @davnwillcome @flourish-and-bloggs @heavensgaymenace @obnoxioussmiley @thyunnamed @harmlessoffering @j-ma26-rb @happyseadreams

583 notes · View notes

bosspigeon · 4 years ago

Note

"no cis nonsense in this house" please 🤲🤲 i must know

oh this one's fun! so for the last couple years, i've been outlining a plan for a potential future NANOWRIMO project when i'm in a better headspace to sit down and properly focus on it? (also, maybe when i'm actually appropriately medicated lmao)

i’ve only got a vague idea for the plot, but it mostly revolves around Urraka, a 7+ foot dragon-man, and essentially a remnant of a culture/race thought to be entirely either extinct or just a myth, and his adopted kid, Talon. Urraka is a traveling mercenary, and has been for a loooong time, and Talon was sort of raised on the road from infancy, so he’s a bit of a wild child lmao. this whole bit makes me giggle, so it’s kinda long, but i can’t decide which tidbit to cut off, so you just get all of it!

Talon's left a trail of discarded clothing in his wake, and Urraka sighs gustily. He does not change his pace, but periodically he bends down to pick up Talon's battered leather breastplate, his vambraces and kilt, and a sideways glance every now and then to make sure Puck is still keeping pace notes the progress of a mottled flush working its way from the fidgety scholar's ears to his neck and further still beneath his starched clothes.

“It has been a while since we've had a proper wash,” Urraka explains as he catches the flash of his ward's bare backside streaking its way towards the river. Urraka can only hope no wild animals make off with the lad's breeches before he can retrieve them.

“I suppose regular hygiene is difficult to maintain with such a lifestyle,” Puck mumbles, burying his nose in his book pointedly. Talon's too far ahead of them at this point for his weak [human] eyes to make out any details beyond “probably nude” but Urraka keeps this to himself and simply nudges the squirrelly creature away from any obstructions in the path.

When they reach the river, Urraka has gathered most of Talon's gear, and he dumps it on a dry patch of sun-warmed gravel and starts the arduous process of hauling off his own kit.

It's the height of summer, so the river is more of a stream than anything, just barely waist-deep where Talon's splashing around more than he's truly attempting to get himself clean.

Urraka spots a few darker spots that may be deep enough for him to sink himself at least to the hips, maybe to his waist if he sits. But anything is better than nothing, especially when it comes to clearing out dirt between his scales. He rolls his shoulders, and swears he can hear the grit grinding in his scutes.

“Hey, Da, can you toss me the soap?” Talon shouts. Urraka hardly has one foot in the water (warm at the edge, but he's hoping there's at least a few cool spots) but he still rumbles his irritation loud enough for the boy to hear as he lumbers back towards his haversack where it sits slumped on the bank.

Puck stands alongside it, fidgeting like he always seems to do, squinting up towards the sky in an effort to avoid looking at either of his naked traveling companions.

“Doesn't make much sense to blind yourself on our account,” Urraka hums, bending to retrieve the hard tallow soap from his bag. “Modesty has no place on the road, but I'd recommend turning around if it bothers you so much. Better than staring at the sun, at any rate.”

His ruddy cheeks go even ruddier, and Urraka can nearly feel the heat radiating off his ears. His eyes flicker downwards for a split second, and, unfortunately for him, where they'd rest at about chest-height on an average-sized person, they land just at Urraka's groin. He makes a strangled sound and spins around, and the Dragoi bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn't laugh out loud.

“If it makes you feel better, my kind don't keep our bits on the outside.” Puck's back goes ramrod straight, and Urraka's not sure if he's going to start scribbling that in his journal or run for the hills.

“Hey!” Talon hollers from the river. “Where's that soap, old man?”

Without looking, Urraka tosses a bar over his shoulder, and smirks when he hears a satisfying thunk, then an indignant squawk and a splash.

He glances back to see Talon sputtering as he drags himself upright. “Fuck you, ya big bastard lizard!” he roars, sweeping his arms together in a furious thunderclap that sends an arc of water towards him.

Urraka doesn't flinch, seeing as, to him, it's hardly enough water to be anything other than slightly refreshing. But it is more than enough to entirely drench Puck's back. The lad fair squeals and darts away, but it's too late to save his clothes, and he turns a miserable gaze towards the river, where Talon's laughing so hard he's liable to drown himself.

Urraka strides forward into the water, scoops up his insufferable brat before he can gather himself, and hurls him towards deeper water, where he hits with a shout and a resounding crash that echoes down the valley.

“May as well join us,” he calls out to Puck, who appears to be frantically checking his satchel to make sure none of his tools, supplies, or books have been damaged. He looks up, face still fair glowing red, and before he can protest, Urraka adds, “Your clothes will dry faster without you in them, and you've been on the road with us for two days without a bath yourself.”

Urraka doesn't wait to see if the scribe will take his advice, since Talon's erupted from the water like a wrathful sea-beast and is striking out furiously towards him. He's almost twenty feet away, but a quick enough swimmer, so Urraka at least tries to wash his face and crest before he's got the little monster clambering all over him and trying, in vain, to drag him under the water.

A delicate splash at the water's edge and he turns towards Puck, who huddles in the shallows where the water is still warm, and squawks indignantly when he catches Urraka looking.

He simply arches the heavy ridge of his brows and looks away politely, lathering up his own soap and scrubbing the sage-scented suds over his chest.

Talon seems to have tuckered himself out, between the run to the river and the following shenanigans, and when he reaches Urraka he just punches him solidly in the hip and finally focuses on washing up himself. He grumbles something about being lucky the river is clear enough for him to have found his soap.

Once Urraka's sloughed off the worst of the grit and grime of two week's rough travel, he breaks off a bit of his own soap and offers it to Puck, making sure not to look directly at him. The lad mutters a quiet thanks and begins his own ablutions.

Talon rises from the deeper water and sloshes off to the bank to find a nice warm spot to lie down and dry off, and behind Urraka, Puck makes that scandalized, choked sound again. Urraka turns to him, brows quirked, to see those wide eyes staring at Talon as if he can't help it. A prickle of protective instinct itches under his scutes.

“You're really a g-urgh!”

Urraka's claws wrapping around his head and pushing him under the water cut his words off with a gurgle, and he comes up sputtering, his dandelion puff hair wetted down in sandy tangles around his face. “No,” Urraka rumbles at him, dangerously low, and up to this point, he's been careful with showing his teeth, because every time he's so much as smiled, the porcine stink of the scribe's fear-sweat was nigh unbearable. But now, he bares them with clear intent, and Puck goes from blotchy red to starkly sallow, eyes bulging wide with terror. “He is not.”

Talon hasn't taken notice of the exchange, too busy sprawling out in the sun-warmed grass just beyond the riverbank, and Urraka stares hard at the scribe, daring him to say anything more on the subject.

The lad is bumbling, awkward, and wastes all the energy that should go towards walking on chattering endlessly, but he's at least clever enough to figure out, in this moment at least, it's wiser to be quiet.

7 notes · View notes

somefinelipstickonthatpig · 4 years ago

Text

Of Questions and Home Ch. 2 of “Of Dancing and Laughter,” Zestiria - AtlA AU [Read on AO3]

Apparently, the Southern Air Temple Sorey, Mikleo, and Lailah decided to squat in for the night isn’t as deserted and abandoned as they thought.

o - o - o

“Mikleo?”

A whisper in the night, hushed and quick. Mikleo squeezed open one eye and then two. With a sigh, he turned over on his bedroll to meet a pair of bright green eyes peering back at him in the dark. “What, Sorey?”

Sorey swallowed. His shoulders curled in, rounding his blanket under his chin. “…can I ask you a question?”

“Are you suddenly under the impression you can’t?”

A frown crossed Sorey’s features. It blinked away with his next earnest gaze to his best friend lying beside him. “I don’t know.”

Green peered at amethyst for a long stretch of time, before Sorey finally shifted and spoke again. “So, can I ask it?”

Mikleo sighed again. “Sure.”

“Would you go back? Right now? If you could?”

The question, somehow, was exactly what Mikleo had thought it would be. He feigned a modest bit of surprise. “What, home? To the South Pole?”

“Yeah,” Sorey rasped. Something in his eyes seemed to shine somehow, even in the shadow of the temple hall at the cusp of night. “I mean, I know you’re worried about your mom and all after everything that happened. And Gramps and Master Uno. And everyone else. So…I don’t know. I was wondering if you wanted to go back to make sure they were okay—”

“—no.”

Mikleo’s voice was quiet, too, but sure. He lifted his eyes from the grey stone underneath their roll pillows. Green met assured amethyst. “You know I wouldn’t, Sorey.”

Sorey exhaled slowly. “But…”

“You can’t go home. Why should I?”

“Because the people we love are there and we don’t even know how they’re doing. How your mother is doing. And it’s…it’s home.”

A beat of silence sat, bitter and heavy. Mikleo reached up to his neck and wrapped a hand around the crude pendant always there. “So are you, Sorey.”

Sorey’s eyes stayed for a long moment on his best friend’s face. Then, finally, something folded between his eyebrows. He ducked his head into his mat and pulled his blanket over his face. “Th-thank you,” came a muffled, tight voice. “You’re home too, okay?”

“Yeah,” Mikleo murmured. He didn’t dare take his eyes away from the small tuft of brown hair he could see peeking up from the blanket’s end. “I know.”

His hand squeezed the necklace before he let it go. His arm stretched out into the space between them, the chill of the temple air at night making the pale, short hair on his arms stand on end.

Mikleo didn’t have to wait long before a tanned hand peeked out from the blanket beside him and reached for his own.

Their fingers found every space in between each other to weave, to have, and to hold.

They didn’t let go until they had fallen asleep.

o - o - o

Mikleo didn’t know what he expected to happen when he wandered away from camp the following morning. He hadn’t intended to go far; he had woken up before Lailah and Sorey and had thought there must be something else he could do with this chunk of idle time other than lie there. And there was this tempting opportunity in the shadows of the halls behind them, leading further into the air temple, and Mikleo—who has never really been able to explore ruins like this before—was helpless to resist.

In hindsight, he should’ve known better than to think he could leave Sorey alone for more than a handful of minutes without him getting into some kind of trouble.

As soon as the tall, muraled walls of the temple began to shake under the tremors of a heavy impact, Mikleo groaned and cursed under his breath. He dug his sealskin boots into the floor, spun, and ran back the way he had come.

What Mikleo didn’t expect was the fact it was actually Lailah who had gotten herself in trouble.

The courtyard wasn’t as peaceful and homey as they had made it last night. The bench they had dragged over was now overturned, ashen logs from their campfire scattering soot across cracked stone tiles and over Sorey himself, who--though sitting upright--blearily seemed like he was waking up and wasn’t sure what had nearly thrown asunder his sleeping roll while he was still lying in it.

“You think we’re just gonna let you take an innocent water tribe kid as a prisoner? Think again, Fire Nation!”

Another crash and gust of wind, and Lailah gracefully landed on her feet near the entrance of the rightmost hall Mikleo had wandered down. Her sea-green gaze was fixed on her assailants—which, Mikleo had alarmingly realized half a second later was, indeed, plural. Two balls of fire hovered above her hands for the two individuals further down the center hall.

“You will regret thinking you’d ever be safe to rest here,” one of the strangers, a broad-shouldered blond, growled. The man then stomped his foot and a chunk of earth rose into the air in front of his chest. With a thrust of his fist, he launched it towards her.

Lailah effortlessly side-stepped, punching a burst of fire at the stone to blow it away from her and the remains of their camp where Sorey still sat behind her.

Immediately, the other bender with long, pale hair and bronze skin, darted forward. He leaped down from the fallen column he had stood on, a gust of wind at his back shoving him forward with unnatural speed that Mikleo knew shouldn’t be possible.

An airbender? An actually alive airbender?!

Belatedly, Mikleo realized the man was holding a staff like an extension of his arm. Lailah gracefully spun out of reach of its swinging arc, just as the earthbender shoved a foot into the stone and tossed his hands out, flexing his fingers in rapid succession.

Mikleo heard the crunch of earth rising to obey him before he saw it, widening out into four slats that boxed Lailah within them. She didn’t scream; she didn’t cry out. But the small break in her cool, determined composure on her face as soon as she realized her hands were pinned to her sides and she couldn’t pull them above the earthen slabs was enough to stir Mikleo into motion.

The airbender laughed, one hand on his hip, the other wrapped around his staff he leaned on like a third leg. “Nice! Got ‘er good, Eizen!” he said, eyes on his friend and not on the waterbender running rapidly up to his side.

His mistake.

“You idiots!” Mikleo shouted.

But when he swung his fist, the man still—somehow—impossibly, even without looking at him, neatly dodged, pivoting around Mikleo’s arm. Mikleo caught a brief glance of raised eyebrows and a mildly impressed look on that bronze face, before he decided to smash that smug face in with a kick.

The airbender caught his ankle before it rose above his chest. With a slow drag of amber eyes, he followed the twitching line of Mikleo’s leg up to his face.

“Who’re you? Another water tribe kid?”

“Not a prisoner,” Mikleo hissed. “Whatever the hell you think is going on here is all wrong. Let us go!”

“Us?”

The man’s thin eyebrow shot higher at the same time as Sorey shouted, “Mikleo! Lailah!” and ran over.

Lailah reacted first, her head whipping around. The long tail of her hair, too, was caught under the stone walls trapping her, pinned to her back. A flicker of pain crossed her face at the tug, but she shouted regardless, “Sorey! No prune-quats! Opposite of prune-quats! Un-prune-quats!”

Sorey stumbled to a halt a few feet away, fisted hands at the level of his chest.

“Un-prune-quats?” the airbender mumbled. He released Mikleo’s ankle, and Mikleo would have taken the opportunity to swing at him again, if he didn’t see the confused look the man sent his earthbending friend still half-cloaked in the shadow of the hallway.

The blond—Eizen, Mikleo remembered him being called—sighed and slowly stepped forward. “You. Child. You said you’re not prisoners?”

Mikleo’s face burned. “I have a name. It’s Mikleo! I’m one of the last waterbenders of the Southern Water Tribe and no, I’m not a prisoner. Neither is Sorey. Lailah is helping us; she’s not what you think she is! None of this is!”

The long-haired man whistled. He bent over and Mikleo immediately hated him for casting him under such a towering shadow. “No kidding? Shorty here’s a waterbender?”

“Zaveid, stop it.” Eizen scolded, now within arm’s reach. To Mikleo’s dismay, however, he crossed his arms over his chest instead of releasing Lailah. His green eyes scoured over Sorey before looking to Mikleo and frowning. “All right. I admit it: perhaps we reacted without fully understanding your situation. But you cannot blame us when who we see camping out in the ruins of an air temple is a highly dressed representative of the Fire Nation with two young water tribe boys.”

Mikleo grudgingly supposed that was…some semblance of fair.

“Please. Let her go. Lailah’s not a soldier; she’s a Fire Sage.” Sorey stepped forward, joining Mikleo’s side.

“Fire Sage?”

There was something sharp in the way both Eizen and Zaveid snapped their heads around to look at Sorey that alarmed Mikleo. Fear trickled down his spine until he reminded himself that these two had been ready to charge in at their defense even as strangers upon the idea Lailah was taking them in as prisoners.

“No kidding?” Zaveid murmured.

Eizen looked to Lailah.

Sorey nodded and before Mikleo could stop him, added, “I’m the Avatar.”

Both Eizen and Zaveid jerked to stare at Sorey again. Mikleo had a split moment to entertain the both amused and hopeful idea that they were getting whiplash from the amount of back-and-forth, until Eizen lowly repeated, “The Avatar.”

When Sorey hesitantly nodded, Zaveid lost it.

He bent over, pressed his wide hands on his knees, and laughed. “Oh, man! Yeah, Eizen!” he chortled in between his mad, hiccuping fits. “You’re not completely unlucky. At least you didn’t trigger that glowy, weird Avatar state or whatever!”

Sorey, Mikleo, and Lailah looked at each other. At least two out of the three could shrug uselessly.

o - o - o

Mikleo wondered what in all his sixteen years of living he did to deserve a nagging airbender at his back as he tried to pack up camp. After munching on blubbered seal jerky for a morning meal, Sorey and Lailah had wandered to find Atakk and ready him for their flight north, leaving him with the mundane task of tending to their bedrolls and other food supplies.

This apparently included dealing with curious, long-haired strangers who thought themselves above wearing a shirt.

“Yo. Can I ask you another question?”

Mikleo sighed through his teeth. “Nothing’s stopped you yet.”

“What’s with that weird thing around your neck?”

Mikleo didn’t finish tying his bedroll. His motions stopped, fingers frozen loosely around the ties. Quickly, he snapped his head around. His eyes lit upon Zaveid behind him, lounging on the bench Lailah had dragged over the other night, only to be upended this morning in their fight. The airbender had turned it back right side up and sat his chin in his hand, elbow propped up on a bent knee.

Mikleo’s hand went to his pendant in question. His fingers tightened around the crudely carved, cool stone. “It’s not a ‘thing.’ It’s a necklace.”

Zaveid scoffed. He pushed himself to his feet and slid his hands into the pockets of his very Earth Kingdom-looking trousers. He didn’t even look like an air nomad. But Mikleo supposed he wasn’t in a place to criticize him when his own best friend covered up his heritage in a similar fashion. “Oh, well excuse me. What, was it made by a three-year-old?”

“An eight-year-old, actually.”

Zaveid’s foot hung suspended in the air; a sauntered step half-taken. His expression lit up like a dawning realization had just occurred to him.

“No. Shut up.”

Zaveid straightened and shrugged with a smug grin. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought something.”

“And since when is that a crime?”

Mikleo made a great show of rolling his eyes and adjusted the strap of Zenrus’ packed bag he threw over his shoulder. He rose to his feet. “I may have only had the displeasure of knowing you since this morning when you and that earthbending friend of yours decided it was a good idea to—”

“—boyfriend, actually—”

Mikleo tried not to let his cheeks burn at the word; he wasn’t sure why it affected him so. It shouldn’t. “—whatever. My point is: I don’t need to have known you a lifetime to know that everything you do do manages to sound like a crime.”

Eizen, stand-offishly reclining a handful of yards away, snorted.

Zaveid at least had the decency to look mildly offended. “Hey, now. Not everything I do’s bad.”

“Says the guy who has already outrightly denied teaching the Avatar how to airbend, despite being, quite possibly, one of the last remaining airbenders alive!”

A shadow crossed Zaveid’s face. It was full of so much, maybe too much—a myriad of emotions and thoughts and feelings Mikleo couldn’t begin to describe—and Mikleo had thought he had been able to read him so easily before, but it became clear as Zaveid turned away that what he saw was just the tip of the iceberg.

Mikleo was very familiar with icebergs.

“Listen, Shorty—”

“—it’s Mikleo—”

“—I’ve already got a commitment I can’t, and won’t, not ever, back out of,” Zaveid murmured. Mikleo almost wondered if he misheard him because his voice dropped too low, but when he caught the man’s fervent glance to Eizen, who no longer seemed to be paying attention, understanding dawned. “I’m not in a place right now to take on a student, even if it is the Avatar.”

Mikleo looked away. He squeezed the bag’s strap tight with both hands.

“But don’t say I didn’t do nuthin’ for ya.” Zaveid turned and sent him a grin over his muscled shoulder. “I told ya already, didn’t I? I ain’t the last airbender. There’s a few more of us out there, trying to make do and survive even when the world thinks we’re dead. Find Dezel in Omashu. He’ll be an even better teach for the kid than I would.”

“Yeah. I remember,” Mikleo mumbled. “I just don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?”

Mikleo gestured up to the ruins all around them with one hand. “This was your people’s home once, right? If there are other surviving air nomads like you said, then don’t you guys want to restore it? Don’t you want to gather together and rebuild everything the Fire Nation thought they took from you all?”

Zaveid chuckled. He ruffled Mikleo’s hair, which was not invited, and Mikleo squawked, trying to set his chestnut bangs right.

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Mikleo huffed.

“Yeah, well, maybe there’s not one single, easy answer.”

Mikleo snapped his gaze up to meet Zaveid’s humbled gaze.

Zaveid shrugged and looked away. “There’s a bunch of reasons I think we’re not ready to return. I mean, if the Fire Nation knew we were alive, and we had put ourselves all in one spot, then that’d make what little of us are left into a pretty easy target. Right?”

“W-well, I guess…but…”

“Maybe once the war is over and we don’t have to fear for our lives, then…but in the meanwhile, it’s not like a building or a location is what makes a place a home. Y’know?”

Slowly, Mikleo folded his hand around the pendant dangling from his throat. Soft, campfire-warm memories from last night of a hand interwoven with his own returned and with them, Mikleo could feel all the tension still building in his shoulders and over his collar release. He sighed and let go of any final grudges he held against this man and his boyfriend clearly just trying to make their own way through a war-ravaged world.

“I think we’re a lot alike, you and I,” Zaveid muttered.

Mikleo scoffed and let his hand fall to his side. “Yeah, right. Gross. Don’t make me barf.”

Still.

When Sorey and Lailah finally returned, it was worth suffering Zaveid’s annoying presence to see both Zaveid and Eizen have hilariously slack looks of dumb shock on their faces as they saw the giant black dragon they flew in on.

18 notes · View notes

raendown · 7 years ago

Text

Naruto Tag

It took me a couple days to get around to this, sorry! I was tagged by @moonfox22 and @dimancheetoile. Thanks guys!

Top 5 characters

1. Kakashi 2. Tobirama 3. Minato 4. Sakura 5. Obito

A character you’ve been disappointed in their development and why

This might be unpopular but Iruka. Don’t get me wrong, I still love my sweet little sensei. But I really don’t like the way he was portrayed in Road to Ninja or the wedding arc at the end of the anime. At the beginning of the show he is built up to be this kind man who learns to understand Naruto and care for him despite the demon fox inside the boy. I took from those things that he was the kind of person who was willing to listen to your problems.

But in Road to Ninja he just flat out yells at Naruto for being sad that his father is dead? He doesn’t even listen to Naruto or try to talk to him about these feelings? Like, yeah at the end of the movie they have that cute scene where Iruka shows up with a cake and that’s nice and all. But I don’t agree with the way they portrayed that conversation at the ramen stand.

Same thing with the very last episode of the anime. Naruto comes over to visit him before his wedding and Iruka screams at him for neglecting her? And he says something like “there are things I failed to teach you about being a human” as if Naruto is doing something wrong just by visiting someone that is supposed to be precious to him? They’re supposed to view each other as brothers, what is supposed to be wrong with Naruto visiting him?

I dunno, it just bothered me that they seem to jump Iruka’s personality around from caring to careless whenever they need a convenient plot disturbance.

A character you wish had more panel/screen time

I wish we could have seen Ino actually doing something. We saw her flitting about Konoha and she appeared in some battles but usually did very little. I would have loved to see some of her actually being the bad ass I know she can be. I wanted to see her working in the Intelligence division like her father before her or destroying minds with her jutsu.

Favourite arc

Kakashi Gaiden. The whole thing. Hands down. Not only was the story line centered entirely around my ultimate fav, but it was a good story line. It showed Kakashi growing and changing, learning new things and letting that new knowledge change him as a person. We got to see the cold cruel beginning but also the moments of mercy and the proof that his humanity was still there. Knowing what he went through when he was younger changed everything about how I watched his older self interact with the people and events around him.

Favourite antagonist and why

I think a toss-up between Pein and Kisame. Neither of them were inherently evil but they were pushed towards evil acts by their disillusionment with the world around them. Pein as Nagato was such a little cinnamon roll who just wanted to make the world a better place and protect his friends. Then when he lost the most important person in his world he thought “fuck you I will force the world to be better”. Kisame was similar; he was just trying to do what he was told and be an obedient shinobi. When he questioned how actually fucked up the things he was asked to do were, he was punished for it. He joined the Akatsuki because they were trying to build a perfect world and, being really disillusioned with reality, he was happy to help with that plan. Not to mention - and yes I am this petty - Kisame is kinda hot!

Thoughts on Akatsuki and its evolution in the plot

The characters were very different from each other and very interesting. I liked the strange thing they had going on where they were fighting for world peace by murdering everyone. xD It was just kind of unique to me that their end goal was the perfect world that would make everyone happy, but of course they’re ruthless and willing to make sacrifices to achieve that goal.

By the end though I was more in to the individual characters than the Akatsuki as a whole because the organization got weird and messy and not written very well plot-wise. I wish we had more arcs on those characters, where they came from and what they had gone through while in this organization.

Choose a fixed point in the manga, alter it and give me your canon divergence

Instead of just leaving Obito’s body behind, Minato and his two surviving students wait for the earthquake to settle then go about retrieving their fallen friend. Oh, hey, surprise! Obito isn’t dead! They bring him back to the Leaf and he receives mass amounts of healing. They are able to save his organs but his arm and leg are fitted for prosthetics. Kakashi keeps the eye. They train together and become the single most terrifying duo you will ever face on any battlefield ever. Maybe fall in love along the way *winkwink*. Madara might find someone else to try and help with his plans but they fail as soon as they try and all of my precious babies live happily ever after. U.U

A canon ship that didn’t disappoint (hard, I know)

Can I use a FRIENDship instead of a relationship? Does that count? Because Kakashi and Gai are BroTP forever. These two idiots have literally never let each other down. They will fight for each other and believe in each other until they have both dragged in their dying breath.

Favourite rare pair/crack ship

Fav crack pairing will always be MadaKaka xD

A piece of fanart you love and wish to promote the artist

Uhhhh everything that anyone has ever drawn for me?

@syndellwins has done so many pieces for me and they are all wonderful. Hard to choose between them but I think this one of one of my KakaHana sequels might still be my fav.

@mrsvasiliev has gifted me the world’s best Kaka-butt more than once, starting with this glorious piece, also of one of my KakaHana soulmate au’s.

@thetoxicstrawberry knows exactly what she’s done. Of the ones on tumblr I would have to say my fav from her art is Madara in gotdamn footie pajamas! Drawn for a small MadaKaka piece written by me.

And most recently but certainly not least @redhothollyberries has created some beautiful art for the MadaTobi sequel I am almost half done. I might still be drooling on this. *shhhh*

You are all incredible and amazing people! I bow to your talents!