#zutara angst

[teapotteakettle]

hc: zuko has a few more scars than Katara realized, and somehow everything starts to make a horrible amount of sense

[burntsecrets]

Sacred Ground

Pairing: Zuko x Katara

Word Count: 1,109

Prompt: For Zutara Week 2024 | Day 4: Reverence  @zutaraweek

Author’s Note: Zuko and Katara have been aged up to their mid-20s for this fanfic

Warnings: romantic intimacy, physical touch (non-explicit), emotional vulnerability, depictions of reverence and devotion in a romantic context, mild sensuality, expressions of love and affection

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that enveloped the Fire Nation palace after the world had finally begun to heal. Moonlight filtered in through the arched windows, pooling in soft silver puddles across the floor and bathing the room in an ethereal glow. The space felt vast and intimate all at once, with the distant crackle of embers from a small hearth as the only sound. Katara stood at the center, her feet bare against the cool floor, her hands were clasped in front of her, but her fingers fidgeted.

Zuko stood a few paces away, his silhouette sharp against the warm lantern light. His golden eyes, so often filled with the burden of leadership, were now soft and focused entirely on her. There was a weight in the air between them, something unspoken but palpable. When he moved, it was with the deliberate grace of someone stepping into sacred ground. 

Katara’s hands tightened slightly on her arms as she watched him approach. Her heart thrummed in her chest, not from fear but from something deeper—an emotion that burned slow and steady, like embers in a hearth. She met his gaze, and the corner of her mouth lifted in the faintest of smiles, though her shoulders betrayed a hint of nervous tension.

Zuko stopped just short of her, the space between them charged with quiet anticipation. His hands, calloused from years of firebending and combat, hovered at his sides as though unsure where to begin. His gaze roamed her face—not hungrily, but with an almost unbearable tenderness, as if he were memorizing every detail.

“Katara,” he said at last, her name falling from his lips in a voice so low and reverent it made her breath catch.

She tilted her head slightly, her hair slipping over one shoulder in a cascade of dark waves. The Water Tribe beads woven into her hair caught the faint light, glinting like tiny stars. For a moment, neither spoke. There was no need. The silence between them was filled with all the words they couldn’t quite say.

His calloused fingers reached out, but he didn’t touch her immediately. Instead, his hand hovered near her cheek, his thumb brushing the air between them, as though he feared the reverence he felt might overwhelm her. The corner of Katara’s mouth lifted, her nerves melting into quiet trust. She leaned forward, allowing his fingertips to ghost against her skin.

Zuko exhaled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw with a featherlight touch. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The words weren’t perfunctory or rehearsed; they carried the weight of a truth he’d held for longer than he could admit.

Katara’s breath hitched, not at the words but the way he said them. Like they carried the weight of the fire he bent—unwavering, fierce, and capable of consuming them both. She wanted to respond, but words felt too small for the moment. Instead, she closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the warmth of his touch. His hand was steady, deliberate, as it slid to cradle the side of her neck. She felt his thumb brush against the pulse there, and her skin prickled under his touch.

Zuko stepped closer, his other hand joining the first. His movements were unhurried, every gesture deliberate, as though he were afraid to shatter the fragile intimacy of the moment. His palms were rough, a testament to years of hardship, yet his touch was impossibly gentle. He tilted her face upward, his thumb brushing the soft curve of her cheekbone, his golden eyes never leaving hers.

Katara let her hands fall to her sides, exposing herself fully to his gaze. The wrap she wore from the Water Tribe clung to her form, and Zuko’s eyes roved over her, not with hunger, but with devotion. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as though he needed to steady himself.

“I’ve fought wars,” he said quietly, the words trembling with raw honesty. “I’ve stood against my father, my sister… I’ve faced storms and fire. But none of that feels as terrifying—or as important—as this.”

Her eyes opened, locking onto his. In the moonlight, his features were softer than she’d ever seen them, the lines of his face tempered by an openness that made her chest tighten. She reached up slowly, her fingers brushing over the back of his hand as it rested against her cheek.

“Zuko…” Her voice was barely a whisper, her tone steady despite the flurry of emotions rising within her.

He let his other hand join the first, cupping her face as though she were something sacred. His thumbs brushed along her cheekbones, his touch reverent. Slowly, achingly slow, he leaned down, their foreheads touching. She could feel his breath on her skin, warm and steady, a counterpoint to her own quickened breaths. He closed his eyes, his thumb continuing to trace slow, reverent circles along her cheek. When he spoke again, his voice was even softer, almost a prayer.

“You deserve this. You deserve someone who sees you… all of you.”

Katara’s lips trembled, her throat tightening at the sincerity in his words. She let her hand travel to his wrist, her fingers curling gently around it as though anchoring herself to him. “And you think you’re that person?” she asked, her voice carrying a playful lilt, though the question was weighted with quiet hope.

Zuko’s lips curved into a small, rare smile, the kind that softened the sharp planes of his face. “I know I am.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in further, his lips brushing against hers with a tenderness that made her knees weaken. The kiss was soft and slow, a melding of fire and water, passion and calm, chaos and serenity. It was a vow, unspoken but deeply felt, that they were equals, partners in a world that had tried to break them both.

When they parted, Zuko’s hands remained on her face, his thumbs stroking her skin as he rested his forehead against hers. “You’re everything,” he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion.

Katara smiled, her fingers trailing up to rest against his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, strong and sure. “And you’re not so bad yourself,” she whispered, her voice teasing but warm.

He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like a rare gift. Pulling her closer, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, his arms wrapping around her as though shielding her from the world. 

Outside, the ocean lapped against the shores of the Fire Nation, and the moon watched over them, approving and still.

[kukos-satellite]

Little self inserting with Zutara. . .

Zuko would be that kid who is always confused in class and Katara would be the kid that the teacher assigns to him to help him with assignments or the one who calls him dumb all the time. She ends up being both, calling him dumb and helping him, she doesn't like him because he’s popular and already has a girlfriend. She was a little in love with him, but she never told him that she was. They’ve gone their separate ways after that.

Psst down here!! Hii, how are you?? Anyway, I'm tempted to add more moments of my life into the fanfics of the ships I enjoy, such as the High School AU for Keith and Lance. I was definitely the quiet kid in high school and there was a popular boy who was a wrestler for the school district. Should I add random moments so that you can see how I am as a person? It's a random way for you guys to get to know me behind the scenes.

[miss-sweetea-pie]

Me and my husband by Mitski just makes me think of of Katara being married to Aang Ft. zutara angst.

Literally, the song opens up with a sigh!!

Like this just makes me think of how she was just sort of forgotten in Lok. Katara did a lot during the war and after and no one even bothered to give her a statue.

But hey at least she is married to the avatar right?

“It’s always just been me and him together” like literally they where 12/13 and 14/15 when they got together.

From a small glimpse we get in Lok we can tell the kids have some resentment for how Aang treated them. I can definitely imagine this caused some fighting and problems in the marriage. also, from what we saw in the comics, we could assume that the air acolytes  may have been a sore subject as well but it’s always Katara’s job to just get over it “me and my husband are doing better”

Okay now let’s get into some zutara angst. I imagine katara at a summit or something and she was pushed aside. Everyone just loves the Avatar, they are here for Aang. I imagine a lot of people keep referring to her as the avatar’s wife, even though they are right it still bothers her.

“But went he walks in I am loved, I am loved”

I imagine that the “he” is Zuko. he walks over to her and they talk and joke like they haven’t been separated for years. It’s so easy and natural, and it always has been. And in that moments Katara realizes but it’s too late she is married with kids and so is he. So she swallows it down and we go back into that chorus.

After all the avatar and his wife need to appear like a happy married couple in this new time of peace. “At least in this life time we are sticking together”🥲

[yourhighness6]

Ugh I will always love the concept of Katara using blood bending to revive Zuko after the last agni kai, mostly because it makes no sense to me that Zuko was able to bounce back so easily after being struck by lightning, but also because the way the show treats bloodbending is just odd to me. It was a defense mechanism created by a traumatized victim of some of the most devastating parts of colonization, and although I understand that Hama was supposed to symbolize the "bad parts" of waterbending and was important for Katara's growth in realizing that the world isn't entirely black and white, its still disappointing to me that the show never explored the gray areas of blood bending, especially since that episode was, as I stated above, about understanding the gray areas of the war. Katara using blood bending to revive Zuko would add so much to the last agni kai in demonstrating that she has truly realized that "good" and "evil" are relative concepts, and Zuko being saved by both a defense mechanism of a survivor of colonialism and a type of bending used to terrorize his people would have even added to his arc, as the narrative required him to save and subsequently be saved by the physical embodiment of everything his family sought to annihilate.

[linkspooky]

I'm excited to post this commission by @ oakyvii of a future scene in my Azula redemption / Azulaang fanfic. It's are moment of Zuko and Azula getting along as they wander the palace grounds.

if you're interested please check out my fic here on AO3.

[beanaroony]

When I said “or two” it was for real. 

[teapotteakettle]

quick zutara squeeze

[burntsecrets]

A Song for Her

Pairing: Zuko and Katara Word Count: 968 Prompt: For Zutara Week 2024 | Day 5: Melody @zutaraweek Author's Note: This is a modern AU where Katara and Zuko are in their mid-20s. Warnings: mentions of parental abandonment, grief, emotional vulnerability, mild angst, discussion of unresolved trauma, themes of healing, rain/weather imagery, light romantic tension, introspection, public performance anxiety

The coffee shop was tucked into the corner of a bustling city street, its warm light spilling onto the damp sidewalk. Raindrops traced lazy patterns down the windows, catching the glow of neon signs and traffic lights outside. Inside, the faint hum of conversation mingled with the clatter of cups and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Katara leaned back in her chair, tapping her finger against the rim of her cup. She had chosen a table near the small stage in the corner, where an old upright piano stood waiting for the next performer. Her legs were crossed, one foot bouncing to the rhythm of her thoughts. The deep blue of her scarf matched her eyes, which flicked to the door every few moments.

Zuko arrived five minutes late, as usual, his dark hair dripping from the rain and plastered to his forehead. He scanned the room before spotting her, offering a lopsided smile that she pretended not to notice. His leather jacket was wet, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he made his way to her.

"You’re late," she said, voice light but sharp enough to make him squirm.

"Blame the traffic," he muttered, shaking his jacket off and slinging it over the back of the chair. "Or the rain."

She arched a brow but didn’t press him further. Instead, she nudged a steaming cup toward him. “I ordered for you. Jasmine tea.”

He hesitated, then picked up the cup. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took a sip. "Thanks."

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, the din of the caf�� filling the spaces between them. Zuko’s fingers drummed against the table, restless as ever. Katara noticed how his eyes kept straying to the piano.

“You’re thinking about it again,” she said, not unkindly.

“What?”

“The piano.”

He glanced at her, startled, then down at his cup. “No, I’m not.”

“Zuko.” Her tone was soft, teasing. “I know you. You keep looking at it like it owes you an apology.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound low and unexpected. “Maybe it does.”

Katara’s lips curved into a small smile, her eyes tracing the curve of his jaw as he stared at the stage. He had always carried a quiet intensity, like a storm held just out of reach. She wondered if he knew how much it softened when he smiled.

A barista stepped onto the stage, announcing the next performer. Zuko stiffened as a young woman approached the piano, her fingers brushing the keys before she began to play. The first few notes spilled into the air, gentle and melancholic. Zuko’s jaw tightened, and his gaze dropped to the table.

Katara watched him carefully, the way his shoulders hunched ever so slightly, the way his hands clenched into fists on his lap. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at her either. “It’s nothing.”

“Zuko,” she pressed, her voice quieter now. “Talk to me.”

He exhaled slowly, his hand turning under hers to grip it tightly. “It reminds me of my mom. She used to play... before she left.”

The words were barely audible, but they hung in the air between them, fragile and heavy. Katara’s thumb moved in gentle circles against his knuckles, her touch grounding him.

“You never told me that,” she said softly.

He shrugged, his eyes fixed on the table. “It’s not something I talk about.”

The melody swelled, filling the room with bittersweet emotion. Katara’s heart ached for him, for the boy he had been and the man he was still becoming. She tightened her grip on his hand, offering silent support.

“I think you should play,” she said after a moment.

He blinked, finally meeting her gaze. “What?”

“The piano,” she said, nodding toward the stage. “You should play. For her. For yourself.”

He stared at her, his amber eyes searching hers for something—doubt, pity, or perhaps reassurance. Whatever he found, it made him stand, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Zuko—” she started, but he was already walking toward the stage.

The barista gave him a curious look as he approached, but Zuko simply nodded toward the piano. “Mind if I...?”

“Go ahead,” the barista said, stepping aside.

Katara’s breath caught as he sat at the bench, his fingers hovering over the keys. For a moment, he just sat there, his shoulders tense, his head bowed. Then, slowly, he began to play.

The first notes were hesitant, like a whisper, but they grew stronger with each passing second. The melody was haunting and beautiful, a cascade of emotions that filled the room and silenced the chatter. It spoke of loss and longing, of love and resilience.

Katara’s chest tightened as she listened, her eyes never leaving him. She could see the memories in the way his hands moved, the pain and hope in every note. He played like he was telling a story, one he had carried for far too long.

When the final note faded, the room erupted into applause. Zuko let out a shaky breath, his hands falling to his lap. He turned back to Katara, his expression unreadable, but she saw the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

She stood, meeting him halfway as he stepped off the stage. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He buried his face in her hair, his breath warm against her skin.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” she asked, her cheek resting against his chest.

“For reminding me,” he said, his arms tightening around her. “That some things are worth remembering.”

Katara smiled against him, her heart full. “Always.”

[kukos-satellite]

The Zutara fanfic has approximately 1.1k words, just felt the need to update you and we are no where near the place I want to be at. 🙂

[bblackthing]

You feel like a lightning

I'm ready to die by...

-Fire & Water by The Stranger Artist

[sokkastyles]

Katara felt exilhirated, her hands catching the cool night air as it whipped past. Bright flashes of colorful light popped on either side of her, accompanied by the huge crackle-boom of what she had learned were called fireworks.

At first, she'd been hesitant to the idea of explosions during a festival, but over time, she'd become more used to the Fire Nation's idea of fun. She had even found it beautiful. Aang laughed, leading Appa to race through the colored smoke while Sokka and Suki screamed in delight, and Katara screamed, too, holding up her arms and feeling free.

Until she looked over at Zuko, whose face seemed to be turning a shade halfway between ghost-white and bogwater green.

She tried to edge closer to him in the wide saddle, but it was impossible to move with how fast Appa was flying. Zuko's eyes met her gaze, and she asked "are you alright?" Her words were swallowed by the wind, and Zuko hadn't heard her, his eyes far away. There was another reverberating boom as an explosion of color went off on her other side.

"You want to know what fireworks are like for me?" Toph said to Sokka as Appa landed, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. She had not been enjoying the festivities any more than Zuko had.

Katara winced as Sokka closed his eyes at Toph's bidding, then watched her brother yelp as Toph screamed "BOOM!" into his ear.

Sokka wasn't the only one to jump. Zuko was still clinging to the side of Appa's saddle, even after they had stopped.

"Hey," Katara said, holding out her hand to him. "You alright?" she asked again, now that she could hear herself talk.

Zuko stood up without taking the offered hand, and climbed out of the saddle only a little shakily.

"I'm fine," he said, and walked off.

She found him later sitting on the edge of a fountain ringed by lantern light.

"I used to love fireworks when I was a kid," he said as she approached, his gaze on the bright reflections in the water. "Now it's just...I...I can't see as well, when Appa goes so fast, and it's hard to hear anything."

Katara remembered how noisy it had been when they were in the air. She remembered her first Fire Nation festival, back before the war had ended, and how afraid she had been of the fire. Now, fear was part of the thrill. Experiencing something like that in a way that was safe and fun, knowing it couldn't really hurt you. It was the kind of fun that Zuko must have grown up with. He must have always known that the fire couldn't really hurt him. Until it had.

"It took me a long time to be able to bend again, after," he said, looking up at her, finally, and Katara didn't have to ask him what he meant.

"Maybe someday I'll be okay with fireworks again," he said.

"It's okay," she said. "Even if it's never the same as it was."

It would never be the same, of course. Sometimes, a part of her wondered when she had become so desensitized. It had to be the opposite for Zuko, now. She saw the way he looked sometimes, when people made references to his past, the way he cringed when he spoke about it, how angry he grew on behalf of the Earth Kingdom citizens he had once considered beneath him. It was funny how time changed the way you looked at things. She wondered if it changed the way Zuko looked at her, the way it had for her. Sometimes it seemed to her that they were always just missing each other. Maybe they would never be able to see each other face the face, but for that one moment long ago, under Ba Sing Se. There would always be a part of her that remembered the feeling of being seen, of being known and having been known, by an enemy who was no longer an enemy, but something else entirely.

Together, they sat on the edge of the fountain, just the two of them. They stayed beneath the lantern lights, while everyone celebrated around them, and remembered what it felt like, to burn.

[gloomybadger4life]

Bonus points: Why or Why not?

What about ships you dislike, do you read breakup fics of them?

Also pls no shipping wars.

@chaosmagetwin @krista-kritical @local-enby @zuko-always-lies @ballooo @wingchunwaterbender

[geothewriter]

Any Other Way - A post-war Zutara One Shot

Happy Birthday (slightly early) to my good friend @achillmango

I wrote ya a lil something because you're an awesome person and a great editor! I legitimately couldn't have made all of this progress on Vermillion Seas Cardinal Skies without you. So... here! I ran with an idea we talked about a while back.

Special shoutout to @demaparbat-hp for helping me edit this fun piece. You helped me add the polish to make this special. <3

And so with this, my first public action as your regent Fire Lord, I declare all aggression over. Our troops will withdraw home, now, to the Fire Archipelago, or to the colonies. On that topic, as I'm sure you're well aware, the colonies are a difficult subject to consider. The newly appointed peacetime council and I have already begun correspondence with King Kuei of the Earth Kingdom to begin ratifying a joint act we like to call the Harmony Restoration Movement. It is a long road, but together, we will travel it well. I'm sure many of you are wondering why an old war general is attempting to herald peace. Why would the Dragon of the West hope for less conflict? I am an old man, and I have seen the atrocity of war. Many across the seas will know me as something else, but I assure you, I am no longer that young man. If I must answer for my past crimes and ambition, so be it. Make that call, and I shall answer. If you call prior to the passage of the next seven years, a council of responsible individuals will head this fine nation. After those seven years have elapsed, my nephew, Prince Zuko, will take the throne as Fire Lord. Until such a moment arrives, he is to contribute to communities around the across all lands, gaining post-war-time political and worldly experience prior to– Zuko gently placed the article that formerly acted as packing paper on the table. His uncle sure could write a speech when he put his mind to it. Three years. He had three years left before his freedom came to an end. A long time, to be sure, but could he really prepare himself fully for the throne in only three years? A terse sigh escaped Zuko’s lips before he turned and pulled another mug from the box on the table. Unwrapping it with care, he placed the porcelain cup in its belonging place, up in the cupboard. Another delve into the box, and he withdrew a rather large plate.  The protective paper fell to the side as he placed the tableware in another cupboard. He wondered, could it really be so simple? Would he really be able to settle down in a new location every few months for the next few years? It wasn’t like four years helped him fit in with the rest of the world. If he wasn't normal by now, then there was no way on earth three more years would do the trick. Zuko sighed. At least the nightmares had stopped midway through last summer.  It was when she joined him. It was the promise, really. “If things don’t work out, and we’re both lost and aimless in the world, promise you’ll find me?”  “Only if you promise the same.” They sealed the oath with a hug and parted ways after his Uncle’s coronation. A year passed with little contact. Zuko was too busy to think beyond the next day, and she was too busy rebuilding the south to write.  She found him in Jang Hui, while he was supervising the removal of the vast quantity of rubble from the destroyed metal foundry located there. He was overburdened, having taken on both that and the difficult job of establishing a more robust local government, as well as setting up a makeshift hospital to get them back on their feet. He was more stressed than he could ever remember. He hadn't slept properly in days. Hadn't eaten, either.  Then she happened. 

Continue Reading on AO3.

[lovisus]

dont go

Genuinely forgot all about Zutara month and I would like to reward you all with angst in apology because I am evil.

[neva-borne]

REWRITE THE STARS

When Katara stays behind in Ba Sing Se to help plan the invasion, she ends up running into a familiar face in the Upper Ring of the city. But Zuko insists he's changed and that he's not trying to capture Aang anymore. And the crazy thing is, Katara believes him. With everyone else on their own adventures for the time being, Katara finds herself spending more and more time with the exiled Fire Nation prince. Days begin to include nights, and she wonders how in the world she is going to explain things when her friends return, but before she gets a chance, Ba Sing Se falls to Azula's hand, Zuko is captured, and Aang is nearly killed.

Katara decides not to say anything until they can rescue Zuko, but a discovery made while hiding out in the Fire Nation might force her hand.

---

Guys, I updated after nearly 2 years. I don't want to sound like I'm begging but I could really use some comments and encouragement to keep going since it's been so long 🥺