#that volcano is now my least favorite atla character

[woodlaflababab]

I have come to the realization that a volcano was the ultimate zukaang anti and enemy. Think about it, if the volcano on Roku's island had erupted just three or four years earlier, zukaang would be canon, and you cannot convince me other wise. Roku would die three to four years earlier, Aang would be born three to four years earlier, he'd still get told he was the avatar shortly before the comet, at which point he'd be three or four years older, and maybe actually old enough to be told without it being forced because of mad mojo from the comet.

He'd be frozen and found older, and then zukaang would happen, and I will die on this hill

[litsnobconfessions]

A Year of Animation Day 5: ATLA S1E13-16

Date: January 5, 2025

Day: 5

Content Watched: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Book 1, Episodes 12-16

Year: 2005-2008

Rating: TV-Y7-FV

Run Time: 92 minutes

Okay, broken record, let's list some of the animated details! We have: clothes, hair, water, and fire as always, Sokka fighting with the fish in the background of "The Fortune-Teller," the wind blowing through the grass, and here, Appa's fur actually does look like wet dog fur as he's shaking out. We also have some more "romance filters" and switching the black and white with the single colored scent trail when we're "seeing" through the Xierxu's nose.

There's a lot going on in the ice dodging sequence. We have lots of different camera angles, we can see the bow of the ship bucking, and the rocks coming closer, as well as the water churning dangerously. There's also a lot happing as the gaang is waiting to talk to Aunt Wu—each character clearly has their own motives for their actions, and this is clear in their body language. My favorite bit of animation in this set is probably the ash falling as the volcano erupts in "The Fortune-Teller." It looks real to me.

Overall, this is a really solid set of episodes, and there's so much I could talk about. I'm going to start with attention Sokka gets here because there's a lot of it. Obviously, "The Fortune-Teller" uses him as the comic relief, as he continues in his role as the Skeptic and Aunt Wu tells him his life will be full of self-inflicted misery. I think this is a great way to continue the sibling tension as well, by making Katara such a believer she becomes a nusiance. (Just like "The Great Divide," it's a conflict that exists for only one episode, but is part of a larger pattern.)

But in the following episode, we see that he's more than that when he looks at the marks on the trees and the grass and recaps a battle in a manner reminiscent of Prince Humperdink in The Princess Bride. I really like both that they gave him this moment to shine and that his skepticism is (at least partially) vindicated at the end of "The Fortune-Teller." A lot of TV shows create a comic relief character who is just stupid and expect us to laugh at how stupid they are. This is one of my least favorite tropes in TV, and I find these characters are not funny. They're just annoying.

But Sokka is complex. And while we do often laugh at his expense, he is just as skilled as both Aang and Katara, just in different areas. I really like the ice dodging scene for this reason. We get to see Sokka growing into a really strong leader who understands the strengths and weaknesses of each of his individual team members.

In regard to Aang, I have some continuity questions. He's said several times that he had friends all over the world, but he doesn't seem to have had any water tribe friends. We've met Bumi, and we've heard about Kuzon, but he seems more surprised about water tribe culture than I would expect if he'd had friends in the water tribe. Like, I know a lot of time has passed, but I don't think they only started using animal pelts this century. And I know he's a vegetarian and all of that, but I would think that if he had water tribe friends he would know they use animal pelts and eat stewed sea prunes.

On a lesser note, Aang is really strong? He's the youngest ofour heros, but in "The Waterbending Scroll" he carried both Sokka and Katara. He carries Sokka again in "The Fortune-Teller," and in "The Blue Spirit," he carries Zuko. With his legs. While Zuko is fending off spear attacks. Now, this is internally consistent, but it does surprise me. Of course, he only carries people when he's airbending, so it's possible that this is an airbending trick, but it's something I wish was explained. In fact, if it was explained, it might also explain why Appa can't carry the packs when everyone is on foot.

Another minor inconsistency (since I am trying to be fair to the quality of the media) is that the Xierxu takes June, Iroh, and Zuko to the herbalist, even though it is supposed to be following Katara's sent, and Katara never went there. It would have made much more sense for it to bring them to cave. Also, when it finds Katara, how does it know that it now has to look for something that smells like Aang, or what Aang smells like? Like… wouldn't it be just as likely that it picked up Bato's scent? These are the small issues that I think a lot of people excuse because "well, it's a kid's show," but I don't want to do that. I think we should hold our kids' media to the same standards as our adult media. I will admit, that this is not a big enough issue to turn me off of the show entirely, but it does make this a weaker episode (or, at least, a weaker plotline. The ice dodging scene is great.)

Of course, the strongest episode of the four is "The Blue Spirit." This is probably my favorite season 1 episode, and I don't think I'm alone in that. I think it's great for the same reason that "The Storm" is great. It displays Zuko's complexity as a character. I'm sure that he's only trying to get Aang from Zhao so that he can capture him instead, but we see that the two of them actually make a really good team. Also, with the dim lighting and the music, it's got a creepy vibe, especially with this silent masked figure continuously appearing in the bushes or on a roof or somewhere else untrustworthy people are likely to appear.

Finally, I want to talk briefly about "The Deserter" because even though Zuko isn't in it, it applies to him thematically. At the end of the episode, Jeong Jeong tells Katara that he's jealous of her because water has the power of healing and life, but fire has the power of destruction. But I disagree. While fire does have the power to destroy it is also life giving. This is why be do controlled burns in forests—to make room for new life. And without fire, the water tribe wouldn't be able to survive in a place so cold. Not to mention the sun, which all of us need to live. But the fire nation has spent the last hundred years using their ability primarily for destruction, so fire benders have forgotten that there are two sides to it. Jeong Jeong hasn't figured that out. I think Iroh has, which is why he's so unbelievably chill, even with is nephew angerbending left and right. But the kindness and gentleness in Zuko shows that he is also on track to figuring this out. I would even say that the conflict within him is that very conflict—the conflict between fire's life-giving properties and its destructive ones. (And yes, I relate to that as well.)

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Never Let Me Go: Part 1 of 2

Summary/Author's Notes: Confession time. I have been @stevieharrrr 's "Daily Carrillo Thirst Anon" for some time now. Y'all seemed to really want this! So, after some idea bouncing, friendly threatening, and overall caps-lock screaming at one another, this is my poker chip that I am raising Stevie in the Carrillo feels war. (This takes place in season 2... episode 4)

Pairing: Col. Horacio Carrillo x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ -- SMUT, oral f!receiving, fingering, THICC CARRILLO ARMS/HANDS, language, violence, CHARACTER DEATH (I'm not kidding with this one y'all, I know it fucks me up when I read it in fic so you have been warned.) Cannon-divergence, this is a FIX IT FIC, if that makes you feel better. Gif by @el-cheung

And the questions I have for a sinner like me

But the arms of the ocean deliver me

MASTERLIST

Being married to Horacio had never been easy. You had lost count of the number of times you had moved, the number of houses you both had tried to make a home, and the number of times you had almost thrown in the towel. The key word being almost.

Colonel Horacio Carillo was a man's man. If anyone opened up a dictionary and looked up the word 'brave', a picture of your husband would be underneath. Along with the word reckless, cunning, ruthless, and a whole slew of other things that his superiors like to throw in his face when something didn't go according to plan. His strong resolve kept the underlying volcano of his rage carefully under wraps. And if you asked the man himself, he would attribute it entirely to you. According to him, the moment he put that ring on your finger was the moment he had a reason to not give in to his unbridled savagery, his desire to get the job done no matter what it cost. And so far, you were okay with that. You could play the dutiful wife on the sidelines, you could be his anchor, because as soon as his feet crossed the threshold of your home, he was no longer Bogetà's Atlas. He finally got to take all of Columbia off of his shoulders and fall into your waiting arms.

And that's the reason when you received the call that he would be working late for the third night in a row, you decided to do something about it. Hanging up the phone, you got dressed, pulling that small floral print dress that he loved so much over your head. You shimmied it down your ass and it just ghosted the middle of your thighs. The small pink and red flowers on top of the wispy white fabric made your skin look softer somehow, grabbable--at least that's what your husband had told you the first time you wore it out to the farmer's market. You picked up the phone again and called in his favorite take out from the small shop around the corner, balancing the receiver against your shoulder as you put on a touch of makeup and a bright pink lip stain.

By the time you arrived, the precinct was winding down for the night. A few of the regulars were standing around, and there was a general uneasiness in the air. Your high heels clicked against the laminate floor and it sounded way too loud, making you second guess your apparel.

"Mhm, what's that smell?"

Javier Peña turned from his pair of desks as you made your way across the office with the bag of takeout hanging over your forearm, your car keys jingling in your hand.

"Good evening, boys," you gave a small wave at the two DEA agents and continued on your path.

"Where's mine?" Steve Murphy, Javier's partner asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Sorry, Steve," you laughed softly, walking backwards a couple of steps. "Next time, okay?"

"Carrillo's a lucky son of a bitch!" Steve called after you and you shook your head feeling your cheeks blush. Javier mumbled something undoubtedly crude under his breath and Steve elbowed him in the ribs drawing a grunt from his partner before they both sat back to work.

Boys. That's what the two of them were and you weren't sure how Horacio put up with it all day. You raised a hand and tapped your knuckles against the glass bearing your own last name.

"Come in."

His voice made your shoulders relax. You let out a breath that you felt like you had been holding for the last three days, and walked into his office, closing the door behind you.

Colonel Carrillo looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and his eyes widened. Clearly expecting literally anyone but you to walk through his office door and it was humorous just how quickly his stoic persona melted in front of your eyes. He stood up abruptly, taking off his glasses and saying softly, "Mi amor?"

"Hey," you said, setting the to-go bag on a clear spot of his desk. "I thought you might be hungry."

"You didn't have to do this," he said, still looking surprised that you were actually standing in front of him. He stopped down as you offered your cheek to him and he gave it a small peck.

"I know."

"Ernesto's?" He raised an eyebrow and looked into the bag, inhaling deeply.

"Mhm," you nodded, reaching in and taking out the styrofoam boxes one at a time.

Carrillo rubbed his chin, looking you over slowly before shaking his head with a grin. "Thank you." He walked around the desk slowly, twisting the string on the blinds to his office window until they closed fully. You didn't look up from your task of setting out dinner until you heard the firm 'click' of the lock on the door.

"Horacio?" You asked over your shoulder as he rubbed his palms together and walked back over to you.

"So we won't be bothered," he said simply with a shrug and you nodded.

"When is the last time you ate?" You asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"I had coffee this morning." He admitted rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You knew you were the only one that ever got to see that flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, like he had somehow disappointed you. He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of his actions, but your opinion was always held in his highest regard.

"Coffee is not a food group. How many times do I have to tell you that?" You said, pressing your lips together in a tight line.

"Of course it is. Because you know what I'm like without it." He chuckled.

"Oh, I absolutely do," you laughed. "A bear in a uniform--"

Your hands paused on the food as you felt his large arms slide around your waist, his tender lips finding their way to the base of your neck. Was he trying to distract you from your current annoyance at his poor excuse for nutrition? Maybe. Was it working? Also maybe.

"I haven't seen this dress in awhile," he mumbled against your skin, removing one of his arms to pull your hair to the side and out of his way. He kissed his way up your neck then back down to your shoulder, soft feather light touches that made your eyes close for a brief second.

"You haven't been home in awhile." It was meant as a joke, a harmless jest, but your smile fell as you felt him tense behind you. You turned in his arms slowly, putting both hands on his broad chest. "I didn't mean it like that." You whispered, fingers playing along the collar of his army green button up. Your fingers traced the path against the embroidered name badge over his heart and you wished you hadn't said anything. The moments you did get together lately were so brief that any that weren't dedicated to loving one another felt like time wasted.

He didn't want to be gone all of the time. He made sure you knew that. The war on Escobar wouldn't wait just because one man's wife was missing him. There were plenty of men who never returned home. Escobar had left many widows in the wake of his cocaine empire and every time the man in front of you walked through the door and into your arms you thanked your lucky stars. You didn't believe in much, but you thanked every deity that might have been listening for keeping him safe.

"I know," he said, trying to give you a smile but unable to keep the sadness off of the edges.

"Come on," you said, nodding to the food. "It's gonna get cold."

"Not yet."

He kept his arms firmly planted around your waist, his hands slipping lower to take two huge handfuls of your ass. The movement made the dress lift slightly, the material bunching in his grip. You gave him a surprised look and he bit his lip, playfully waggling his eyebrows at you. It made you giggle. God, how you missed him when he wasn't home. This playful, boyish side of him that made you walk on air. The side of him that made it seem like you both were young and in love and didn't live in a war torn country.

"I thought you were hungry?" You asked as he continued his way up your neck to the shell of your ear.

"I am." He worked his way back down, kissing the tops of your breasts as he walked you a step backwards against his desk. "But not for take out."

"Even Ernesto's?" You gave a mock gasp of shock and smiled, letting your fingers card through his hair as he pulled the scoop neck of your dress down and squeezed your breast in his large hand. "I thought it was your favorite!"

"There's something I like more," he said, looking up at you with dark brown eyes, refusing to lift his lips from the mound of your breasts. It made the heat rise to your cheeks.

"Here?" You asked and as a response he reached around you and shoved a stack of files off of his desk and to the ground with a loud clunk.

"Yes. Here." His words were firm and he shoved a few books off of the desk to join the papers on the floor. He gripped your waist and picked you up to sit you on the edge of his desk, nudging your thighs open with his knee and standing between them. "Think you can be quiet, dulzura?"

"You know the answer to that," you giggled again, cupping his face in both of your hands as he closed in on you. You were not a quiet lover and he often told you it was one of his favorite things. The way you said his name as he brought you through your orgasm was his most favorite song and he liked when it was turned up loud.

You reached for the front of his dark slacks, palming the bulge at the front of his pants and he gripped your wrist with a shake of his head. "Not yet," he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it before putting it back on the desk. He put his hands up the dress and gripped your underwear, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. The lace got tangled on the heel of your pump and you kicked them off with a shake of your foot.

"Kiss me again," you demanded with a shaky breath and he happily obliged.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as one arm held you tightly and his other hand went up your dress. His thick fingers pressed against your labia and you moaned into his mouth as he began to run them up and down, slowly spreading your wetness. He pressed your clit and you jolted, it was too much too quickly and you gripped his neck.

"Mi amor?" He asked and when you hummed in response he continued. "Lift your dress."

You did as you were told. With excited hands and a hammering heart, he helped you pull the soft material up over your thighs, letting it bunch around your waist as he went to his knees in front of you. Those dark, chocolate colored eyes that you loved with all of your heart never strayed from your own as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. He let out a small noise of content as you ran your fingers through his hair and the noise carried over as he pressed his mouth to your aching cunt. With a gasp and your head thrown back, your hair cascading down your back, your husband would have said that you looked like a vision--if his mouth wasn't already preoccupied.

Carrillo's hands slid around each of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh and keeping them wide open for his broad shoulders to sit comfortably in the middle. His tongue slipped through your wet pussy like it had a hundred times before, but it still made you moan his name softly to the empty office around you. Your husband may have been a man of few words, but he liked to say he used his mouth for much more precious things.

He sucked each of your folds separately, a soft pop sound coming each time he moved to the next spot. When he finally closed his mouth around your clit, you gasped sharply and grabbed his hand that was resting on top of your thigh and squeezed it.

"There?" He mumbled from between your legs and you nodded.

"There. Right there."

"Right there. Mhmm, I see," he teased your desperation but continued to oblige your request. He worked his jaw against you in such a way that you imagined he was coating his face with your juices like you were the most delicious of fruits. The wonderfully crude image made your cunt twitch and he groaned.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he continued to suck your clit. You wanted so much more right now. You wanted his cock inside of you. You wanted his hand around your neck. You wanted him to flip you over and take your ass. Suddenly you wished more than anything that the two of you were home so you didn't have to pick what you wanted most, you just had to pick which one you wanted first.

"Horacio," you moaned his name, rocking your hips forward gently against his chin. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, the feeling of how well he knew your body started to overwhelm you. In the years you had been together he had taken so much time memorizing every spot that made you sigh, every place that made you break out in goosebumps, and every series of movements that had you falling apart in his arms.

He loved you fully, completely, and unconditionally.

The orgasm he brought you with his mouth took you from your thoughts as you clenched your thighs around his head suddenly. "I'm cuming!" You gasped desperately just before you felt the rush of heat flood your core down through your legs. It made you bend forward over him and open your eyes, moaning loudly as you saw him looking up at you, watching you orgasm in his hands as his mouth continued to ravage your aching cunt.

"Come on, baby," he squeezed your hand, feeling you clench again against his mouth and it was too much.

"Stop, stop," you said with a shaky voice to match your quivering legs. You grabbed two fistfuls of his button up and pulled, making him get to his feet and slam his mouth against yours.

He grunted against your lips as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, greedily tasting your own wetness on him. He cursed quietly in Spanish as you pulled his shirt, untucking it from the waistband of his pants. Your hands went to his belt and you slowed down, suddenly remembering you were in the precinct.

"Do--" you swallowed hard, trying to breathe normally as you spoke against his face. "Do you have time?"

"For you? Siempre," he slid his fingers in your hair at your temple and cradled the back of your head. "Siempre, mi amor."

Always.

You blushed a little, your fingers starting to unbutton his shirt as he kissed you gently and kept hold of your hair. With each button your heart raced faster, you smiled against his lips as he slipped his tongue back inside your mouth, expertly colliding it with your own. His kisses always felt like they were going to devour you from the inside out. He kissed with such an intensity that you knew from the first time he pressed his mouth to yours all those years ago you would willingly allow him to consume you.

You clenched your thighs around his waist and let your heels drop to the floor behind him. He ran his hand down the curve of your ass and hitched your leg further up on his hip, dipping you down to lay on his desk. He grinned down at you and started to open his mouth to say something but was stopped short by a hurried knock against the glass.

"Carrillo!" Javier called from the other side of the office door.

"Go away," he returned, throwing his voice in the direction of the door, leaning down to kiss your breasts.

"Messina needs us. We got a hit off of the wire taps--it could be Escobar." There was a pause as he tried the door but it was still locked. "We gotta go!"

Carrillo's shoulders fell slightly and ran a hand over his face before helping you sit up. "Coming!" He helped you pull your dress over your breasts and started buttoning his shirt back up. "Lo siento, mi amor." He said quietly and you shook your head.

"It's okay." You bit your lip as you watched him tuck his shirt back into his pants and he hissed softly. "Sorry about that," you nodded towards the bulge against his zipper as he did his belt.

He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek, bending over to pick up your thong and held it out to you in offering. "I'm not. It'll give me something to look forward to when this search comes up empty like all of the others."

You took your underwear from him and smiled as you slipped off of his desk and put them back on. "I take it I should put the food in the fridge?"

He nodded and put his hands on his hips as he watched you fondly finish redressing. "I'll be home late."

You cupped his face giving his cheek a gentle pat and a nod. "And I'll be asleep." You smiled as best you could but you knew he could see the twinge of sadness in the corners of your mouth. The number of times he crawled into bed in the wee hours of the morning far outweighed the number of times the two of you got to go to bed at the same time.

Carrillo grabbed your hand before you could turn away and kissed your knuckles, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could without hurting you. As he walked to the door and unlocked it, he looked over his shoulder and said seriously, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you barely managed to get out before he unlocked the door and he and Javier walked briskly down the hall, leaving you to tidy up and head home.

--

When the knock at your front door came, you were already in bed and sound asleep. The oscillating fan of your bedroom was breathing a cool breeze across your body as you snuggled deeper into the comforter. The bed hugged you like it knew you better than anyone else in the world, and apart from your husband, it probably did. The knock came again and you groaned because it meant that you hadn't been dreaming about the first one.

You leaned up and pushed your hair to the side, looking at the side table that held your alarm clock and a lamp. "Fuck," you mumbled as bright red numbers told you it was almost three in the morning. Three AM? Where the hell was Horacio? You touched his side of the bed as if to confirm what your eyes were already telling you--he still hadn't come home.

The knock came again.

"Shit," you cursed again, turning on the lamp and opening the drawer to grab the hand gun that you knew was there.

The 9mm felt cool in the palm of your hand as you checked the magazine for ammo before slamming it into place and pulling the cartridge back to slide a single bullet down the chamber. You grabbed your robe and wrapped it around your shoulders, tying it tightly and hurrying across the bedroom barefoot. You saw the flashing red and blue lights outside the front room window as they ran along the walls of your home, chasing each other over and over, casting shadows on the entire room. The fact that there were no sirens paired with them made you feel uneasy--that was never a good sign.

The knock came again, this time it was apparent that whoever it was was pounding their fist against the wooden paneling of the door. Leaning up on your tip-toes you looked out the peephole and recognized the somber face of Javier Peña. You hurried and put the gun on the table in the mudroom before flinging open the front door and asking him accusingly.

"Javi?? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Your voice sounded foreign even to you. Your heart hammered against your ribs as your eyes frantically searched the two police cars behind him for your husband.

"(Y/n)..." Javier said quietly as he leaned against your door frame, one hand in the pocket of his leather jacket.

"What's wrong?" You said as he shifted uncomfortably on your doorstep. In the back of your mind you already knew what he was about to tell you, but you wanted him to say it. If he didn't say the words out loud then they would never become real. The news he was about to give you was a stone, and unless he threw it, it would never be allowed to shatter your entire existence.

"There's been an accident." He said flatly, forcing himself to look you in the eyes. You glanced over his shoulder and saw Steve leaning against the hood of the Jeep with his arms crossed, looking at the ground. The other officers in uniform wouldn't look at you either and you knew your next question was a foolish one.

"Is he hurt?" You asked in a meek voice. Hurt you could handle. Hurt you could work with. But you knew before you even opened the door tonight that hoping that he was only hurt was a faulicy that your brain entertained purely to keep you from fainting on the hardwood floor.

"(Y/n)," Javier tried again, moving his arms from the door frame as he started to put his hands on your shoulders.

"I need to see him," you blurted out as Javi's hands clasped your biceps. You tried to shove him off. If he touched you, it was over. If he held you it was all over. If Horacio Carrillo was alive then he would have already told you to get dressed and get in the car. No, comfort meant trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb that was a woman about to learn that she was a widow.

"I can't--" Javier tried and you jerked your arms out of his grasp.

"Take me to him, Javi. Let me see him!"

"I can't do that. There's nothing--"

"Shut up! Don't you dare--" you raised your hands and he was faster than you and grabbed both of your wrists, holding them to his chest. "Don't you fucking dare! Where is he? Where's my husband--"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated as you finally gave in.

He kept his hands on your arms as your knees buckled out from under you and you slowly sank to the concrete stoop. Javi followed you down, pulling you against his leather jacket and letting you scream against his chest. You would have screamed all night if your vocal cords would have allowed it. But it wasn't long before the screaming turned to sobs and the sobbing turned to silent gasps as your body couldn't seem to figure out the appropriate noise to make to express your anguish.

You felt his voice against your hair as he spoke Spanish softly in your ear. Only catching half of it, you nodded helplessly as he told you it had been a quick death, that it was no secret around the office how deeply Horacio loved you, and other forms of condolence that didn't do a damn thing to stop the meticulous tearing of your heart within your chest.

He was gone. Not even twelve hours ago he had been in your hands, against your skin, warm and alive and looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. And now...nothing. You felt Javi's hand in your hair as you heard Steve's boots approaching the both of you quietly and respectfully. They were trying. They had been saddled with the task of telling you because they were friends of the Colonel. But as the tears started up again and you felt Javi's arms tighten around your shoulders, you desperately wished they belonged to someone else.

--

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[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Favorite and least favorite episodes of ATLA, go!

My favorite episode is The Library. I don't really have a long winded speech as to why that is, I mean I could probably say more about The Crossroads of Destiny or Sozin's Comet, they have more going on...but The Library has just always been the most beautiful and fascinating episode to me? It really is the point that Book 2 switches into it's second Act, introducing both the Solar Eclipse, and kickstarting Appa's abduction storyline. Tales of Ba Sing Se is another fan favorite, and we all know why, but I never see anyone talking about Appa's Lost Days, which is a shame. What really makes this episode memorable though, is the character of Wan Shi Tong. Honest to god, he is the perfect blend of scary and captivating. His design, his voice, and the way it reverberates...just his overall character. I love him, I can't take my eyes off him when he's onscreen, he almost reminds me of Spirited Away. And whether or not you think he was right to do what he did...he was never going to do anything else, and I understood. I felt for him. He's one of my favorite characters and I'd say I want him to make a return, except he did and it was kind of...a let down. But never mind that now. Honorable mentions go to The Southern Raiders and The Avatar and The Firelord. Iroh may be my favorite character but Zuko still has the best arc.

My least favorite episode? Oof, I honestly don't know. Like, nothing immediately comes to mind. I know The Great Divide is widely considered to be the worst episode, but eh. That one didn't bother me. I like the ending, the double twist with the truth about the myth and then that Aang had just lied. That was clever, and it solved the problem. It's not a terrific episode but I don't hate it. Actually, you know which one annoys me far more? For my worst episode, I'm gonna go with The Fortune Teller. It's just...a lot of that same silliness and weird dialogue that The Great Divide has, but I guess it bothers me more? This was also the episode that introduced K*taang, which...look, if you ship it, all the power to you. I mean no disrespect. But I never liked this ship and I especially don't like the weird way it was handled. Aang develops a crush on Katara, seemingly out of nowhere. I mean, like two episodes ago he showed no problem with her swooning over Jet. The fixation on shipping in this episode, and the irritating premise with the Fortune Teller...I'm kind of with Sokka on this one, I guess? There's no problem with having faith, but when it comes to life or death situations...just double check, and if multiple people, including the damn Avatar are telling you that the volcano is active...it's time to wake up. They shouldn't have had to change the clouds, like, what? Urgh.