lbibliophile-atla
ATLA Fandom Addiction Overflow
Avatar: the Last Airbender headcanons, fanfics and fanarts, and related posts; Zuko-heavy. Main blog (lbibliophile) is general writing/fanfiction themed. Other themed sideblogs: Marvel Avengers (lbibliophile-mcu), Star Wars (lbibliophile-sw)
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Headcannon: There’s a statue of the Blue Spirit in a back chamber of Pohuai Stronghold. They tell the story to all new recruits to warn them of the dangers of hubris. They can never forget how close they came to being relegated to service as Zhao’s pet guard all over capturing a child.
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Personally I think that Azula should have been redeemed simply so that she can become Zuko's horrible little advisor who whispers evil little plans to him so that he can do the exact opposite
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> be zuko
> try desperately to ingratiate yourself within the avatar’s friend group (to no avail, of course, because you have terrible social skills, and previously tried to kill them, also)
> try to fight off the human wmd you previously hired to blow them all up
> fail miserably, because he is indestructible
> watch as sokka effortlessly kills him with a very precise boomerang throw to the brain
> suddenly recall every single time you got hit in the head by his boomerang
> feel immense gratitude for what you had previously dismissed as uncle’s obnoxiously stringent and paranoid over-emphasis on the importance of helmet safety
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what is Herdbalist Zuko's hair like?
YES. Finally, someone asking the IMPORTANT questions!
“Well I would have brought my comb. But you kidnapped me.”
“You are just not gonna let that go, are you,” Sokka said.
“Sokka,” Katara said. “Aang did pull him into the saddle. While he was saying ‘no.’ And then we didn’t ever bring him back.”
“Because there is an evil fire-shooty admiral guy after us! ‘Us’ including him! Which I am still waiting on an explanation for, but I will at least accept a ‘thank you Team Avatar for saving me!’ ”
“Well,” Spirit said.
“Do not–”
“I would have brought my gratitude–”
“–finish that.”
“But you kidnapped me.”
He didn’t even say it accusingly. He said it while scratching the sweet spot at the base of a lemur’s tail, smiling with airy indifference, as Katara sat behind him combing out the bison-flight tangles from his ridiculously luxuriant waves of hair.
“Did you leave your dignity behind, too?” Sokka accused. “What kind of man has hair down to his butt–”
“Longer than that,” Katara reports, running her comb through just a section of that hair because they would probably both have to be standing for her to get a full swipe in.
“–and lets another man’s little sister play hair stylist? Do you not know the danger of surrendering hair control to a little sister?”
“I can think of worse things a little sister could do.” Their demure firebender kidnappee continued to smile. Sokka would have really appreciated if he’d been a surly firebending prisoner instead.
“I’m going to give you hair loops,” Katara said. “Beads or no beads?”
“No beads!” Sokka snapped.
“Just do the opposite of whatever your brother says.”
“Beads!”
“I’m so glad you agree,” his little sister said, sickly-sweet, her smile matching the firebender’s smirk.
It was stupid how good his hair looked when Katara was done. All… loopy, and beady. And every day on the flight north it got more and more complicated because there wasn’t much to do on the back of a bison, until there were tiny braidy loops and swirls intertwining everywhere and a loopy-beady high bun, and still so much hair left to cascade down his back, and it didn’t even get sufficiently ruined when the Northern waterbenders attacked even though Sokka’s hair looked like a hare-possum had died in it.
And one of their warriors offered the guy a hand down from Appa when they got to the city. What was with that?
“She’s pretty,” said warrior sighed, as all that hair went swishing after Aang and Katara.
Sokka squawked.
“Sorry,” the guy said. “Your sister?”
Additional squawking ensued.
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Just things they can connect about… Zuko you should bring up the fact that you burned down Suki’s village again, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.
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ladies and gentlemen i present to you the bffs. the buy 1 get 2 combo. toph and aang
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i still can't get over the sheer AUDACITY of iroh going to ba sing se. like did it work? yes. but ONLY because the dai li was too busy following around some bald kid looking for his dog to notice him
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clotheswap edition for the only children of the group.. bcs apparently only children like to have fun too :’(
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Once when the gaang visits the Fire Nation, they’re all just on the side of too tipsy when Zuko leans in with the most grave expression imaginable.
“Aang,” Zuko says, “This has been… haunting me…. Why did your friends need to suck on those frogs?”
And Aang just gasps, and does not explain the frogs, because he has suddenly remembered that Miyuki is still wanted by the Fire Nation and that just won’t do. So Aang demands that Zuko pardon Miyuki for her crimes, which then gets the rest of the gaang to dogpile on and also demand justice for Miyuki.
Zuko is willing to hear him out.
…Zuko is significantly less willing to hear him out when Aang mentions that Miyuki is a cat.
(Zuko finds it difficult to believe that a cat is legitimately wanted by the Fire Nation)
But because they are all the worst, he relents and they all drunkenly stumble down to go find the records of Miyuki’s crimes and write her up a pardon, much to the chagrin of the night-shift archivist.
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Mail Call: The Prison
This is a sneak peek at a bonus chapter of the fanfic Wayward (Book One of The Avatar's Ward), which hopefully will have a regular update schedule soon!
Ozai’s son sent him reports, but never letters. So it was infuriating that letters arrived at the prison for his brother more often than reports made it to Ozai. They never reached Iroh’s hands, of course. Sometimes Ozai perused them, but it was a galling exercise as it was becoming increasingly clear that the boy’s reticent behavior was not from the burn or the banishment, it was a result of Iroh’s imprisonment.
In a fit of rage at a letter signed ‘your loyal nephew’, Ozai seized the pile and paid his dear brother a visit.
“Your nephew has been writing to you.” Ozai forced his snarl back behind a smirk as he held out the scrolls. His brother gazed back at him stoically. Not even the prison garb could rob him of his proud posture and calculating eyes. “Don’t you want them? To see how he’s doing?” Ozai taunted, moving closer to the bars. Iroh wanted the letters. Ozai could see it in the way his eyes flicked to the scrolls. How his hands tightened beneath his sleeves. How he barely held himself back from lunging for them. “Well, if you aren’t interested.” Ozai’s fingers flexed and all of the carefully penned scrolls burst into flames.
For an instant, Iroh’s carefully cultivated mask broke. Ozai smiled in warm satisfaction as charred scraps of paper and ash sifted through his fingers. It had vanished as quickly as it appeared, but for a second Ozai caught a glimpse of the shattered man who had lost his son. The fool who tried to replace him with what was his.
“Pity.” Ozai’s grin grew. “Maybe you’ll want to read the next one.” Ozai swept away, sending ashes dancing in his wake.
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I just need a scene where Fire Lord Zuko has been kidnapped and taken to sea. Katara shows up to save him and beats up the baddies, then walks slowly over to Zuko, leans down by his ear, and
Katara: don't worry
Zuko: stop
Katara: I'll rescue you from the pirates
Zuko: please leave me here to die
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if you think katara wouldn’t do this, you’re just wrong
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The memory of Kyoshi: BAMF. Ruthless. The strongest and most grounded avatar. EVER
Kyoshi on a normal day: soft baby. Fawning over her cute girlfriend. Tripping on herself and feeling social anxiety when she doesnt have her make-up on. Cries about her feelings.
The memory of Kuruk: go with the flow. Party boy! surfer dude.
Kuruk on a normal day: battling literal demons. Keeping it all to himself to spare the burden on his loved-oned. Desperate for release of pain.
The memory of Yangchen: Saint. Goddess. Healer. Beauty and grace.
Yangchen on a normal day: Deception. Infiltration. PTSD. Windblasting annoying people off the cliff-side. Constant guilt. Imposter syndrome.
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