sun-snatcher
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wish ᯽ 21 ᯽ she/her
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Sebastian Amaruso followed my art account y’all everybody go home i’ve finally reached my peak
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Besties with the main atla cast < besties with the freedom fighters cast 🗣️🔥
#why are they the sweetest people alive#wes dropping gen z memes in dms always makes me laugh#i keep forgetting theyre genz too like 😭#🪷 ; atla#🪷 ; wish.txt
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Sebastian Amaruso just reposted my fanart 😭🫶🏻🧎🏻♀️
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OMG STOP I LOVE YOUR ATLA WORKS IM OBSESSED AAGHSHSJ
THANK YOU ARRAUAUAUGHH
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I see the folks seem to enjoy the liveaction zuko imagine so lemme write more for our beloved trauma boy
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HE REPOSTED
I drew fanart of Jet and tagged all the freedom fighter actors— tell me why Nathaniel Kong (actor for Longshot) deadass liked and FOLLOWED MY ART ACCOUNT
#AUAUAUAUUAUA#atla#avatar the last airbender#atla live action#natla#avatar: the last airbender#longshot#🪷 ; wish.txt
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Sebastian Amaruso replying my dm was not on my 2024 bingo list
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I drew fanart of Jet and tagged all the freedom fighter actors— tell me why Nathaniel Kong (actor for Longshot) deadass liked and FOLLOWED MY ART ACCOUNT
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hello! i love ur work and i was wondering if u could do some live action zuko angst (that makes ur heart sink) and then it progresses to fluff (that makes ur heart swell) please? HAHA idk if it makes sense but i rlly love ur work!! hope ure doing well n no pressure!!!
🐉・ HEARTBURN
summ. Fresh from his banishment, Zuko faces the aftermath of his punishment in both his dreams and his waking hours.
pairing. Zuko x f!reader (established relationship)
w.count. 1k.
��a/n. A bit abstract on this one, but just typical dream logic. A glimpse at Zuko’s descent into madness, almost? Sorry anon if this is mostly angst than fluff! 🧎🏻♀️
Zuko’s dreams manifest at the scent of burnt flesh and the sound of his own screaming.
He feels the molten sting of a melting crown upon his skin and the fantastical beast that is his father; something monstrous— something scaled, fanged, clawed, and too large an appetite, with a touch and breath of fire that lights the skies in a blaze.
( He wakes up with his voice hoarse from screaming. The 41st Division will eventually learn early on not to mention it. They just leave a hot pot of tea ready for him come the mornings, by General Iroh's orders. )
Sometimes, it transgresses. Sometimes, it’s his mother who burns while he watches from the sidelines of the Agni Kai; Or Azula. Their shrieks mix with his when he wakes.
Sometimes, it’s Iroh who scalds him. Great Dragon of the West, jasmine-white with razor teeth and a flame that burns as hot as the sun; serpent eyes a shining gold and a sharper tongue that spoke of his disappointment for his nephew.
Sometimes, it begins with you.
Please, you beg, at the foot of a winged beast. It speaks in the voice of his father; damning, all-encompassing. It warns the Prince the price of compassion, of mercies, and of weaknesses. Eliminate her, or I will.
Rarely does Zuko ever move. He’d plead in your name, to spare your life. It never happens; he just wakes to the smell of smoke and the sound of your screaming.
( There are dreams he doesn’t speak at all to defend you. The shame devours him whole. )
“I’ve killed you over a hundred times, in my sleep.”
In the aftermath of another nightmare, you turn to face Zuko. You’re not quite sure what to say.
“Other nights, it’s the 41st, or Uncle,” he says, quietly. “Even mom, or Azula.”
You turn back to the small medical chest on the desk. The infirmary is quieter at times like these; the soldiers of the 41st know not to visit the usual haunts of their Prince. Tonight, Zuko will have to replace the bandages of his scar, and there are only two people on this ship he’d ever trust in his life to lay a hand on it.
You’re shifting towards where he’s sitting on one of the cots. “May I?”
( You ask. You always ask. Even when you’ve done this nearly fifty times, you ask. Zuko is glad; there’s a comfort in agency, especially when he’s gotten so used to losing it every time he sleeps. )
He nods, and you make quick work to unravel the bandages. When the layers come away, you observe the way his left eye shuts and opens as he blinks, remaining half-closed into a permanent expression of pain. He looks away, downcast.
The skin around is stretched taut, some areas rawer than others, marred with growing scar tissue that knots in twisting valleys. ( Zuko has only seen the scar once. He’s covered the mirrors in his room ever since; avoids glancing at his own passing reflections. )
The wound is still fresh; the memories fresher.
You don’t flinch at the sight or recoil like the other soldiers or dignitaries.
He finds… solace in that.
( Something roils in his mind. It uncurls and hisses and growls. )
“Tilt your head for me,” you say, ready to replace the cotton on his eye with a new one.
He stops your wrist just as you do.
Your heart jumps at the contact. His hands are warm.
“Why?” he blurts.
You blink in confusion.
“Why’d you come with me?”
The reply is instant, and unintentionally drowned in affection. “Where else would I have belonged?”
Zuko almost answers instinctively: With me. By my side. He shakes his head.
“You should have never come,” he says, instead. He’d grown fond of you over the years. Too fond; over some Firenation colonel’s daughter, a force to be reckoned with and yet a childhood friend who he’d played and studied and fought with countless times. Fond enough that he’d been foolish to let you step foot into the ship of the 41st Division the day he’d been banished; fond enough to be foolish enough to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. “You could’ve had a better future back home.”
“But a miserable one,” you counter.
His nostrils flare as he sighs. You watch the way his brows weave to a frown, the way they always did whenever he’s tamping down his frustration. "Nothing is more miserable than being banished from home. Yet here you are walking away from it.”
“You and I both know the palace was never a home for me,” you say. “I’ve been by your side my entire life. I’m not about to break that streak over some punishment. You matter to me.”
Zuko’s heart stifles.
( Compassion, he hears the wings of the blood-red dragon in his dreams unfurl. Compassion is a sign of weakness. )
“It was a stupid move,” he blurts, letting go of you. He had wanted it to be emotionless, but it comes out as distinctively bitter: “Sooner or later you’ll come to regret your decision. Then, you’ll see I was right all along.”
“Maybe,” you say, just to appease him. “But I doubt it.”
( Lies, jeers the serpent. You have only yourself to rely on in this world, Zuko. )
For the sake of conversation, you don’t provoke him further. You continue, instead, with replacing the dressings around his eye. He’s angry enough as is with the world— with you. For being stubborn. And strong. And steadfast. And loyal. And—
Zuko glances at your face in focus, your hands so careful in binding the gauze it’s nearly featherlight. “Tell me if it hurts,” you say, with gentle authority.
The ire leaves his body. Zuko’s gaze softens at a realisation:
“Not once have you ever hurt me. Not even in my dreams.”
It’s a statement so frighteningly vulnerable that it has you stilling. Your breath staggers. Something swells in your chest. You let your hand rest on his cheek, thumb below his scar. The touch is reassuring. Zuko wants to lean into it.
“I don’t think I ever could,” you answer, honestly.
( She can, sings the beast. She will. And once she does, know that it will burn tenfold than what I've done. )
Zuko's hand settles on top of yours.
“You can hurt me,” he concedes, solemn, voice barely above a whisper. “You can if you must. I command it.”
( The dragon in his head hisses. For now, it retreats. )
#‘you can if you must. i command it.’#<- GODDD STFUUUUU IM SOFT#the symbolism is symbolism-ing!!!#this was so fun to write#Zuko's ptsd will NOT be overlooked in this blog#the fluff is there if you squint through the angst and whump i promise 😭#Zuko’s dad manifesting into some beastly thing because trauma is. painful#but god would i be lying if i didnt say i dont enjoy writing the complexities of this angsty teen#zuko#atla zuko#atla#avatar the last airbender#natla#avatar: the last airbender#atla imagine#zuko imagine#zuko x reader#zuko x you#zuko x y/n#zuko x oc#zuko live action#live action zuko#atla live action#🪷 ; wishing well#🪷 ; atla
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“I can fix him dw” [drill sounds] {screaming} [chainsaw revving]
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Working on a zuko piece now 💃🏻🕺🏻
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I wonder if after Ba Sing Se, Katara hears Jet in the birds that sing wherever she travels.
#your first love dies and every morning you mistake the birds for his calls??#does she close her eyes to listen?#does she look over her shoulders or up in the treetops#hoping to catch the shadow of a boy with the blade of a wheat grass between his teeth#for the glint of a boy with the sharp swords and even sharper smile#yeah this one got a little kick#atla#avatar: the last airbender#avatar the last airbender#katara#jet#atla live action#natla#jet atla#katara atla#atla jet#jetara#🪷 ; atla#🪷 ; wish.txt
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we dont talk enough about
katara 🤝 sokka
‘first love’ died in a brutal way in an attempt to protect others
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Folks i do not write smut 😭💀 !!! Let me write about the character arcs and complex narratives that is ATLA Jet!!
#Yes he’s pretty and i wanna kiss him#BUT HE’S MORE THAN A PRETTY FACE YALL 😭#live action jet#atla jet#live action atla#natla#atla#atla jet imagine#avatar the last airbender#avatar: the last airbender#live action avatar#🪷 ; atla#🪷 ; wish.txt
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No no because I love your depiction of Jet??? Oh my god?? Like hell yeah hes a fearless leader of a freedom fighting rebellion group he built from the ground up but he’s also?? JUST A TEEN!! JUST A BOY!! Teenage boys get butterflies too!!??
🌾 ・ POCKETFUL OF BUTTERFLIES
summ. Operation: Creeping Cricket was a botch. It looks like you and Jet aren’t gonna be headed home anytime soon.
pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader
w.count. 1.1k
a/n. ANON YOURE SO RIGHT. Sometimes we forget Jet is really just a teenage boy grappling with hormones and feelings and everything inbetween! Enjoy this short continuation to Hand in Loving Hand!
You take a mental note to thank Longshot and his squirrel-like tendencies to hide emergency stashes up in trees for times like these.
“Here,” Jet says softly, “Y’might catch a cold soon.”
The change of clothes he offers you is weathered, but a warm welcome respite from the frigid chill that’s settled into your bones.
Operation Creeping Cricket had been a complete bust. Your narrow escape is a stroke of luck with all things considered, and at least the rain has finally stopped. It doesn’t help that both you and Jet are soaked head to toe, however, and the fact that the temperatures in the forests by Omashu can drop critically.
Your cheeks are raw; your fingers ache— but you manage to begin peeling off the layers of your clothes one by one to dry by the campfire. From across, Jet’s already managed to change out. He frowns in concern from where he’s sitting by the fire, watching you tip over a boot of water.
“You’re shaking.”
“Shivering,” you correct, trying to stop the chatter of your teeth. You wonder if biting on a wheat straw like how Jet is doing right now would help. “But, yes. Same thing I suppose.”
Then you’re untying the strings of your tunic, and pulling it swiftly over your head.
Jet barely has time to react.
He practically snaps his neck turning away, eyes wide.
The whiplash, the innocent attempt at privacy, has you biting back a laugh.
Ever the gentleman.
“You can look now,” you finally say, after a quick minute, and Jet is careful to turn.
The garments that Longshot had stashed practically drowns your figure, sleeves bundling at the wrists; collar wide and dipping low enough to reveal the corded necklace you never remove. And then there’s the glow of the fire, honeying you in amber light as you run your fingers through your damp hair.
You’re… effortlessly beautiful. He’s not quite sure there’s any other way to describe you.
“That bad, huh?” you ask, pinned under his gaze.
Jet startles. “Sorry, I— No, you just, look cold, still.”
He clears his throat as the tips of his ears burn. He hopes to the Spirits beyond you hadn’t noticed them go red. (You did.)
“Well, so do you.” You reach back into Longshot’s knapsack and tug out a blanket from inside, before making your way across to the log Jet’s settled on. The material is tanned and threadbare, but it would do for the night.
Your hands brush as you wrap the cloth around the both of you.
It’s difficult not to focus on just how warm Jet is. Even more difficult not to lean against him.
It hadn’t mattered much in the end, though; Jet shifts closer, and presses his shoulder against yours.
“Y’okay?” You ask, gentle.
Under the dim firelight, his hard edges seem to soften. The fearless leader of the Freedom Fighters can be surprisingly endearing. Suddenly, Jet is simply another survivor; another casualty of war.
He shrugs lightly, careful not to jostle you, and makes a face. “Eh. We’ve faced worse, haven’t we?”
You laugh, ducking into his shoulder. Jet wonders if you can physically feel the butterflies taking flight in his chest.
There’s a spill of flowers behind you— budding Moonflowers, he recognises; native to Earth Kingdom wildlife— and has half the mind to pluck one and hand it to you.
He chews harder on the straw in his mouth instead.
( He knows you don’t see him that way, anyway. You’d made that clear before. ‘We’re family,’ is what you’d told him; Him and the rest of the Freedom Fighters. ‘Found family.’ And while he isn’t complaining, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t imagine atleast once what it’d be like to be something more with you.
Even if you did, he’s not quite sure he’d act on it. He’s not quite sure he can allow himself to be that vulnerable to someone. Not when he's a wanted man; not when subjecting someone into his dangerous lifestyle is the last thing he wants— even if said someone had signed up for it. )
“I’ll take first watch.” he says, after a moment.
“Y’sure? I don’t mind doing it. I promise I’ll wake you up this time.”
He laughs at the old memory. The smile, however, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. You need rest.”
Quietly, you read him. Measure the micro-expressions that pass his face. Having fought alongside Jet throughout the years of survival made it easier. Whenever night falls, and the weight of his duties could settle if only for a little while, you could finally see all of him. Just a teenager who’s fighting for what he believed in; a kid who had to take on the world too early.
That illusion of 24/7 confidence falls around you often, though never around the younger rebels. You’ve kept the privilege close to your heart.
“You’re worried.”
He picks on the hearth for a moment, listens to the crackle of the fire.
Jet doesn’t doubt the Freedom Fighters’ capabilities. Longshot’s probably camping out somewhere in the trees with Smellerbee and The Duke, and Pipsqueak and Sneers can navigate these forests even better than him. They’ve all probably made it home already, knowing them.
And yet. And yet—
“Yeah,” he says. He didn’t like admitting it, because it implied they couldn’t protect themselves. It’d have meant he isn’t confident in them; that he, to some degree, didn’t trust them. It’s a twisted mindset, he recognises, but he can’t quite help his way of thinking these days. He didn’t like admitting he cared more than he really should— it’d be a concession. An admission.
An admission that he might truly snap if he lost any of the Freedom Fighters; that he might truly break if, Spirits forbid, he’d lose you.
The thought sends a frisson up his spine.
That shouldn’t scare him. It shouldn’t.
He blinks, shakes his head. “That obvious?”
“No. But I’ve known you for years now,” you nudge. “It’s okay to worry, y’know? You can care. You do care. There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to act like you don’t for the sake of appearing calm and collected and… cool.”
He cocks his head at that, musters a playful smile. “Ah. So you think I’m cool?”
It’s meant to derail the conversation. Fortunately for him, it’s successful. Jet watches you bow your head and laugh; the bright one, the kind that makes his heart sing.
Camaraderie, he reminds himself, swallowing thickly as he reluctantly turns away from you. Nothing more, nothing less.
#the pining & denial combo is SOOO#obsessed with Jet just behaving like a normal a teenage boy his age tbh#JET YOU STUPID PRETTY BOY#let him be a kid!!! he’s lost so much already!!#AAAAAA#atla#natla#avatar the last airbender#avatar: the last airbender#live action atla#netflix atla#jet atla#live action jet#jet imagine#jet x you#jet x reader#jet x y/n#jet x oc#atla live action#atla imagine#atla jet imagine#atla fanfic#sebastian amoruso#🪷 ; atla#🪷 ; wishing well
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i need an enemies to lovers slow burn, angsty, fluffy, smutty all of it. with firebender!reader and jet right NEOW.
I’M TRYNA FORM AN IDEA BESTIE BUT IT’S SO DIFFICULT 😭😭
#THEY GAVE US CRUMBS FOR LIVE ACTION JET#tbf it means more creative liberty for us writers#BUT STILL#HELP A GIRL OUT YALL 😭 I NEED IDEAS#uhnanix#🪷 ; wishing well
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Received a bunch of requests recently and I am absolutely grateful! But please remember that extremely detailed requests are equivalent to commission-level work 😭
Try to keep the plot of the requests short y’all, it’s hard to write out here in this hellsite we call tumblr dot com, and I wanna produce quality work for everyone of you! 🫶🏻
Head to my rules or don’t be afraid to drop me an ask for any clarifications!
#once again THANK YOU for the love and support#but it is difficult to write every detail you want in a lengthy request#i hope you understand!#i refuse to do commission work- my writings shall be free for the people 🫡#🪷 ; txt
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