#Short hair zutara is something I never knew I needed until this
Note
ppl love to forget that katara: 1. has her own taste, 2. developed around aang, he needed her for his development and vice versa, 3. ZUTARA IS SHIP BETWEEN AN OPPRESOR X OPPRESSED!!! Ignoring all of the development they had with their respective partners and the trauma Zuko caused Katara!!
In the infamous words of one Luke Skywalker: amazing. every word of what you just said was wrong.
It’s actually kind of ironic that you bring up Katara’s taste, since, throughout the show, we have examples of the guys she likes, to greater or lesser extents in canon--Jet (explicit romantic feelings on her part, word of god that jet was her first kiss--a kiss that would have been consensual, incidentally, something you should keep in mind for later) and Haru (she denies the crush, but that could just as easily have been because of the abomination he’d been growing on his lip rather than denying those feelings ever existed), both of whom have much more in common (in terms of both emotional and physical maturity, and physical appearance) with Zuko than either of them has with Aang.
Zuko’s book 3 hairstyle is almost exactly reminiscent of Jet’s, even, if not quite as floofy.
(This is probably in part because of Jet’s function as a foil of Zuko within the narrative, particularly given their book 2 encounters, which I think just further solidifies my point that, were it not for extenuating circumstances [like the fact that Zuko was introduced as an enemy and they had significant obstacles to hurdle before they could be friends], Zuko would have been exactly Katara’s type. Had they met under different circumstances, she could have been the girl he went on a date with in Ba Sing Se. Just something to think about.)
So, yes, we’ve established that Katara has her own taste. Her tastes seem to be boys with great hair who are taller than her, the same age or older, and of a similar maturity level.
Aang falls short (heh, short) on all counts. So it isn’t Katara’s taste in boys that led her to be interested in him. Hm!
Next, you claim that Katara ‘developed around Aang’--that she was necessary for his development, and that he was necessary for hers.
Let’s take a moment to examine that, shall we?
I will absolutely grant you that Katara was necessary for Aang’s development--only to a point, of course, but we’ll get to that later--but was he really necessary for Katara‘s growth? I suppose I could grant you this on a generous technicality--he did, after all, provide her with the means to finally leave the South Pole and find a waterbending master to teach her (although she wound up largely self-taught anyway). But that had nothing to do with his relationship to Katara and everything to do with the structure of the plot--Katara and Sokka find Aang (and he never would have gotten out of that iceberg without Katara’s own righteous anger, so even that leads back to her own power), and then they go on a quest to find teachers for the Chosen One and save the world.
The story could not have begun without first finding Aang and then providing means for the other main characters to travel with him (or, in Zuko’s case, chase him), but this has nothing at all to do with Aang’s relationship to Katara. Aang was not a mover in Katara’s developmental arc--if anything, he acted as an obstacle more often than not, his actions ranging from innocent but obnoxious (playing and flirting with girls rather than helping with chores like picking up vital supplies, leaving Katara to do all of the quite literal heavy lifting and keeping her stuck in the role of caretaker that she’d been thrust into following the death of her mother), to deliberate and harmful (hiding the map to Katara and Sokka’s father, a truly selfish action, regardless of his lack of malicious intent, and one for which he never actually apologized), to somewhere in between (”she didn’t really mean that” he says to the man refusing to train Katara because she’s a girl, when yes, she very much did mean that, and Aang was no help in finally getting the old codger to eat his words--Katara had to shove them down his throat her own damn self).
While Katara’s overall arc wasn’t exactly big and dynamic (like Zuko’s redemption arc), or in-your-face (like Sokka getting force-fed Respect Women Juice and his eventual growth into a tactician and leader), it was very much present and woven into her character--and Aang had almost no part in it. He provided her with the means to get to the North Pole, but left Katara alone to fight the patriarchy herself. He messed around while Katara took it on herself to do the chores and keep the Gaang alive, but he did almost nothing to decrease that burden so she could grow out of the caretaker role. (Contrary to popular shipper claims, Aang didn’t actually teach Katara to have fun. She already knew how to have fun. But she couldn’t indulge, because she had a responsibility to her family and her tribe, and later to her brother and Aang and Toph, and Aang goofing off and trying to get her to do the same only added to her burdens rather than subtracting from them.) He provided Katara with the necessary motive to learn to heal herself, but he certainly didn’t seem to learn from the experience of accidentally burning her, preferring instead to claim he was never going to firebend again, despite already knowing, at that point, that he was going to need to master fire along with the other elements to become a fully realized Avatar and defeat the Firelord.
He didn’t help Katara keep them alive during The Desert. (In fact, he ran off, leaving her to desperately try to keep Sokka and Toph from succumbing to the heat while worrying for his safety.) In The Painted Lady, Katara makes the decision to stall the Gaang and do what she can to help the Fire Nation villagers on her own--Aang agrees to help her when he finds out, but he wasn’t actually instrumental in her making that choice. The Puppetmaster was, again, Katara finding a master of her own, and having to deal with the fallout from that. And in The Southern Raiders, Aang was--perhaps unknowingly, if I’m being generous, because he is a child and could not reasonably be expected to fully understand the implications of what he was asking her to do or why it was impossible--actively impeding Katara’s development! She desperately needed closure, something he could not understand and actively belittled and dismissed. The only reason he relented in the end (but not without a condescending ‘I forgive you! Does that give you any ideas???’ parting shot lmao) was because Katara was planning to take Appa anyway, and letting her go (and hoping she’d just magically wind up doing things his way) was easier than trying to fight her on it.
While Aang’s existence was necessary for Katara to start down her own path, she needed neither his guidance nor his approval to follow it--and absolutely nothing would change about Katara’s arc if you removed their romantic relationship entirely.
Possibly because the only changes needed to do so would be to remove the two times Aang kissed Katara without her consent (which, hopefully, no one would actually miss), and the epilogue kiss (which was awkward and unnecessary to begin with, since ending the entire show on a romantic kiss as the final shot kind of missed the point of the story to begin with, but that’s another discussion). None of these kisses (which are the only moments in which Katara’s feelings for Aang are so much as addressed; do note that addressing them, or hinting that they needed to be, is not the same as saying she exhibited any sign of reciprocating them) altered anything about Katara’s behavior, her personal arc, or (and perhaps most critically) her relationship with Aang.
It’s that last point that is really damning, as far as ‘Katara obviously had feelings for Aang, she kissed him in the finale!’ goes. Because she didn’t ‘obviously’ have feelings for him. And the fact that he kissed her before the invasion and then she forgot about it (she literally had no idea what he was talking about during the play’s intermission until he reminded her that he’d kissed her) is pretty clear evidence that she didn’t actually have feelings for him. Not the kind he had for her.
I’ve been a teenage girl. I know what it’s like to be surprise!kissed by your crush. And I absolutely for a full fact know that I had not completely forgotten about that kiss three months later and had, in fact, spent most of my waking hours thinking about it and remembering it and trying to talk to him about it. Now, granted, I was not in the middle of a war, but even if I had been, I doubt I would have needed reminding about the fact that the boy I’ve supposedly been developing feelings for had kissed me and showed clearly that he had those feelings for me too.
At the very least, if Katara was harboring feelings that she was worried about approaching until after the war, her relationship dynamic with Aang should have shifted. But it didn’t. She acted the exact same way with him after the Day of Black Sun as she did before it--that is, as a mother figure and a caretaker, responsible for his wellbeing. (And it’s clear she never took him down off the pedestal she needed him to occupy, either--let it not be said that the unhealthy aspects of their relationship only went one way.)
And book 3 is, incidentally, where Katara went from being vital to Aang’s development to being detrimental to it--or, rather, Aang’s refusal to let go of his attachment to her (despite ostensibly having done as much at the end of book 2) was. Because despite having been told by, perhaps, the greatest authority left in the world on Air Nomad culture (even more than Aang, who had left his temple with a child’s understanding of his culture that was never able to mature because he got stuck in the ice berg while his people were wiped out) that he had to let go of his possessive attachment to this girl who never even expressed the possibility that she might harbor romantic feelings for him to begin with, after Azula killed him and Katara brought him back, he went right back into the mindset of Katara is mine, it’s just a matter of time.
And the narrative validated him for it.
Notice how, during Ember Island Players, Aang says the following (emphasis mine):
“We kissed at the invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.”
First of all, if you go back and watch the scene, it’s clear it wasn’t a mutual kiss. Aang sprang a surprise kiss on Katara, which left her shocked and unhappy after he flew off. (The decision to have her looking away and frowning was a deliberate one on the part of Bryke, who wanted Katara’s feelings kept ambiguous. Heaven forbid you allow the animators to make it clear that this fourteen-year-old girl who was just kissed without her consent by someone she’d never once demonstrated romantic feelings toward might actually have some. Heaven forbid she have a little agency in her own romantic narrative. But whatever.)
Second, he says he thought they were gonna be together.
He thought.
He never once even asked Katara what she thought--or even how she felt. He just assumes. He assumes that if he kisses her, she’ll kiss him back and they’ll get together. He assumes that she must have feelings for him, even though her body language is closed off and she told him with her words that she did not want to talk or think about this right now, and kisses her regardless of those signals, upsetting her and leading her to storm off.
And the narrative rewards him, because despite the fact that they don’t have a single significant scene together after that second disastrous kiss, Katara just decides off-screen that she Does Love Him Really and walks onto the balcony to make out with him.
The upshot of all this being that, while Katara was indeed instrumental to a lot of Aang’s early growth and development, Aang was not necessary for her own arc, and their romantic relationship (such as it was) actively hampered Aang’s development in book 3, while removing it would change absolutely nothing for Katara (except saving her from some painfully embarrassing memories).
As far as your third point, I’m simply not going to get baited into explaining how reducing Zutara to an ‘oppressor/oppressed’ relationship is not only insulting to interracial couples irl (not to mention any other couple with a potentially unbalanced dynamic of societal power, since there are many more axis of oppression than just racial), but demeaning to Zuko and Katara, their personal arcs as well as their relationship development together.
However, I will point out that Zuko was not responsible for any of Katara’s trauma. She did not find violence and fighting in bending battles to be traumatic--in fact, she reveled in it. She enjoyed fighting against Zuko at multiple points (especially noticeable in their battle at the end of book 1), because she wanted to fight--she always had--and once she had the ability, she was ready to throw down with anyone who gave her the slightest reason. (Including, by the way, her own potential waterbending master.) Aang’s death at the end of book 2 was Azula’s doing, and while I think that contributed to Katara’s extreme reaction to Zuko joining the gaang, it was not something for which she actively blamed him, and it wasn’t something she believed would be repeated--she let him go off alone on a journey to find the original firebending masters with Aang well before she chose to forgive him. So she already trusted Zuko’s intentions and that Aang would be safe with him.
Finally, because this has gotten long enough already, I hope you now understand that Zuko and Katara getting together would not require ignoring any of their development with their canonical romantic partners. We’ve already established that Katara’s arc wouldn’t change in the slightest if all of Aang’s romantic advances were removed, and I haven’t even gotten into how Mai meant nothing in the grand scheme of Zuko’s development because I’m pretty sure that’s just self-evident. I mean, the video compilation put together by Nick showcasing Zuko’s journey throughout the series doesn’t include a single scene with Mai, though it does include several with Katara, and even Jin makes an appearance--because Katara, and even Jin, played key roles in Zuko’s personal journey, while his relationship with Mai happened entirely off-screen and her only real function was to showcase just how unhealthy trying to force himself back into the role of the Crown Prince was for him.
What development, exactly, is there between them to even ignore?
At any rate, I’ve gone on long enough--I hope you enjoy the fact that you activated my wordvomit trap card right when i was about to go to bed, anon, because I just spent two hours writing this instead. In case you’re interested in the TL;DR: at the end of the day, there was no meaningful, mutual development in Kataang’s romantic relationship, and those romantic feelings that did exist were largely one-sided and ultimately detrimental to Aang’s development in the final third of his overall arc. Meanwhile, Mai meant nothing to Zuko’s journey--rather like Aang’s romantic overtures, she could be removed from the show completely and nothing about his story would change--while Zuko and Katara were both vital to each other’s overall storylines, arcs and development. This, coupled with the fact that Zuko never actually traumatized Katara and, in fact, helped her achieve closure from the biggest source of her own trauma, means that Zuko and Katara have better and more believable build up that could potentially lead to a romantic relationship than either of them have with their canon romantic partners.
So no, anon, I didn’t forget anything--I think you may have, though. Perhaps a rewatch is in order? Make sure not to close your eyes for the back half of book 3 this time.
#atla#zutara#zuko#katara#aang salt#kataang salt#maiko salt#salt for ts#just trying to cover my bases#asked#Anonymous
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 6: Zutara From Other’s POV
Just a short and silly fic about Toph and Sokka getting up to some ~shenanigans~
“You know, Zuko’s wound is probably healed by now,” Toph said, loud enough for Sokka to hear but not Aang. This was Toph’s not-so-subtle way of getting his attention, because she knew Sokka couldn’t resist the juicy possibility of gossip, especially involving his sister. He slid over and leaned entirely too close to Toph’s ear to whisper – she was blind, after all, not deaf.
“I don’t know much about healing or magic bendy water, but every other time she’s only needed to heal them once. Why does she need to keep going back to his tent?”
“Maybe because he took a lightning bolt to the chest,” Suki said, startling them both. “He nearly died. I’m sure it’ll take more than one session to heal.”
“Yeah, sure,” Toph huffed. “I don’t buy it. She sneaks in there an awful lot. And last time when I caught her leaving I asked how Zuko was doing; her heart rate shot up. It was definitely a law, I just don’t know which part of it was a lie.”
“Maybe he’s dying,” Sokka said somberly, and Suki hit him upside the head with a sharp twack.
“Don’t even joke about that,” she said, though the venom of the threat wasn’t there. “Look, you two are going to get into trouble, nosing around the way you do. Leave me out of it.”
Suki went back to the fire, and Sokka turned back to Toph. He had a conspiratorial grin stretched across his face, and though Toph couldn’t see it, she just knew it was there.
“How about we do a little reconnaissance tonight?”
It was something he wouldn’t have to ask her twice.
-
The plan was simple – they would set up outside Zuko’s tent on a stakeout, and then wait. Toph wanted to ambush them, but Sokka wasn’t on board with that plan – at least, not yet. He wanted to wait it out, see what was going on. If she was really just going to heal him, then it would just be embarrassing for him and Toph to admit they had been spying in the hopes of finding something more scandalous.
They had to wait until the moon, full and bright, was nearly at its highest point. Certainly an odd time to be paying a visit just to heal. Sokka and Toph were perched behind a rock, where Toph could feel every step and Sokka could hear hushed words coming from the tent.
“What are they doing? I can’t understand them!” Sokka hissed, and Toph swatted him away.
“Dunderhead, maybe you can’t hear them because you won’t shut up. Would you just concentrate?”
Sokka grunted but relented, straining his ears in an attempt to make out the words. He could hear a few – “healing” and “scarring” and some other words about bending he didn’t really get. It went like this for about fifteen minutes, and Sokka could feel himself dozing off. He was glad Zuko was doing fine. He could still remember the horrible first minutes when he’d heard Azula and lightning and “saved me”, Katara tearfully recounting the story of the last agni kai (though not so tearful, he noticed, when it got to the part where she just wrecked Azula). At first, he’d thought he was dead, the new Fire Lord, the surprise friend he never thought he’d have. To find and lose the person who’d helped him rescue his father – it was like when Aang had nearly died in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se.
To his relief, that hadn’t happened, and now the heir apparent was roughing it up with them, instead of living in the castle. Because he needed constant supervision for his wounds, and Katara was the best healer he knew, so of course he could follow her around for a few months. Anything to get the best care he could.
The voice had gone quiet, and Sokka stretched as he let out a yawn. He assumed that Katara was about to return to her own tent, her work done. Nothing particularly exciting, but playing spy had been fun. That was, until Toph grabbed his wrist and yanked him down again, head so close to hers they nearly collided.
“Sokka, they’re kissing,” she hissed, the delight apparent. Sokka felt his cheeks grow red. He knew is sister had kissed Aang before, would kiss in general, but it was always weird to be reminded of it.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re doing more than that, but I don’t think you need to know what my feet are hearing.”
This was enough to drive Sokka over the edge. How like Toph to make it as uncomfortable as possible! He’d take his trusty boomerang and he’d prove Toph wrong. With an expert throw, the boomerang slid between the tent flaps and hit one of them with a satisfying twak. He would guess it was Katara, with the high-pitched yelling that followed. Her appeared, a dark red blotch forming on her forehead and her eyes filled with murder. Her hair was mussed, as if – as if hands had been tangled in it.
Sokka realized simultaneously that Toph was very, very right, and he was very much a dead man. At least he had a head start as Katara gave chase.
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
what's beyond compare, a zutara fic, chapter I.
read the prologue on AO3
---
Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation was born in the fall, as afternoon turned to night, screaming until he was red. A bad sign, his father said with disgust.
His mother brushed his short, dark hair away from his teary face. She could sense there was something about this child that was different. Scared for her baby, she didn’t tell the Sages about it when they came. But there was no hiding it from her brother-in-law, who held him in his arms and said, grave and regretful, “The spirits have not blessed this boy.”
“Is he cursed?” Ursa whispered, eyes wet as she reached for her son. Ozai had wanted to kill him, and revulsion had raised inside of her like never before. But if Zuko was cursed, then… she would protect him however she could. Even if that meant doing the worst.
“I cannot say for sure,” Iroh replied, laying Zuko gently back into her arms. “But I don’t think so. We will have to wait and see.”
Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of Kya and Hakoda, was born in the spring, so late at night it was early. The elders blessed her and Kya both as they laid in a mess of furs, her brother Sokka watching the proceedings anxiously. He stayed close to his dad as the rest of the tribe came to praise Kya and offer congratulations to the whole family. Bato chuffed Sokka’s chin and Sokka laughed, too young to realize it but all the same, relieved that that hadn’t changed like so much else had that day.
It was Kanna who first saw that Katara was different, feeling a resistance when she asked the spirits to protect and spare the little girl. When the other elders tried, there was the same sensation—a silence where there should have been a wolf’s howl, a stillness where there should have been wind.
“What does it mean for her?” Kya asked, clutching Katara to her chest. Hakoda sat beside her, his arms around her shoulder and Sokka’s stomach, holding him close on his lap. Sokka’s birth, unlike Katara’s, had been difficult, but there’d been no spiritual issues. He’d been blessed and Hakoda’s father, the now-passed Chief Betadi, had proclaimed him to have the support of many behind him. What did it mean that one child was overly protected by the spirits, and one child was completely ignored?
“I’m not sure. We can only hope that someday they will notice her.” Kanna didn’t look down while she delivered the bad news; they deserved more than that. Nevertheless, they all knew that this would be unlikely. To not be blessed was a death sentence in the Water Tribes.
Kya didn’t cry, though Hakoda did have to wipe his eyes. Sokka didn’t understand what was going on, but hugged his father anyway. Baby Katara snored slightly in her mother’s arms, unconcerned with the matters of the spirits.
The three adults came together later that night. Their only hope was that if she stayed close to her brother, his luck would protect her as well. It wasn’t much to hang their faith on, but it would have to be enough.
Zuko had an imaginary friend, growing up. He never shared much about them with his family, not even Ursa, but that was in part because he didn’t know how to explain. He knew his friend was real, and yet not at the same time. He saw them in all different ways, most often a man in blue, but other times as a woman in yellow or red, or a young man in green. No matter how they looked, he could always tell it was them, a spark in his very soul that said this person was the one.
The friend had many names, and they existed on the edge of his tongue, never to be said, never to be remembered. But that was okay, he thought. As long as they were there with him, it was all okay.
Secretly, just to himself, he thought of them as his love. It only felt right.
His dreams were haunted by dangers unseen. He woke to midnight storms during the rainy seasons, screaming and shivering. When Uncle brought him to pray to the spirits, he felt stalked, a confusing tangle of emotions roiling in his belly.
Uncle and Mother always wanted to know how he felt when he prayed. Azula said, “Bored.” Zuko didn’t want to say that he was angry and longing for something he didn’t even know, didn’t even understand, so he said, “Yeah. Bored,” instead.
Mother looked troubled by this answer, but quickly hid the expression in order to ask Lu Ten the same. As his cousin talked, Zuko allowed himself to wonder what Azula really felt. If it was as complicated as his own experiences. He resolved to ask Mother about it, next time they went. Maybe she would know why the spirits never talked back to him.
He never got the chance— Uncle and Lu Ten went to battle soon after. Mother stopped taking them to pray after their cousin died, and it wasn’t very long after that that she was gone too.
Katara was ten when she realized that the spirits were cruel.
She was in the communal igloo, Sokka wrapped around her, both of their cheeks wet with tears that never ended. Some of the tribe—what was left of it—was inside as well, but they were given space to grieve their brave, brave mother.
Katara had grown up with nightmares. Nightmares of darkness and pain, or distant unease that made everything suspect, or the freeze-burn feeling that she was missing something, someone, important to her. One dream had seen Katara counting her family members; Gran-Gran, Dad, Mom, and yes there was Sokka, and there was—there was—
A shadow. A gut feeling. An empty space where there shouldn’t have been one.
Mom had held her as she cried, rocking her back and forth. They all said she’d been crying that her love was gone.
It was the only comparable feeling that she had, the only other loss that Katara knew. This was so much more immediate, her whole being flushed and freezing, a terrible wail building in her throat. But if she cried, Mom wouldn’t be there to hold her and comfort her. She’d never be there again, not for anything.
“What?” Sokka whispered when Katara broke down into loud, gulping sobs. She told him between gasps for breath, and his eyes welled, but he tried to keep his tears in. She didn’t bother with that, knowing that there was no stopping this flood. She would have to be strong now, but not tonight. Not tonight.
One day early in his exile, Zuko’s ship was at a port in the south of the Earth Kingdom. He looked out across the lands, feeling an odd tugging in his chest. He almost wanted to—go inland. There was something out there that he needed to run towards, to get back to. A strong urge gripped him—he took a step and then another towards the prow. He needed to find someone, or a place maybe. An image of a cave conjured in his mind unbidden.
Wait. What am I thinking? There was no reason for him to go any further into the Earth Kingdom. There was no one there, and there was no place calling out to him. He was just being ridiculous.
He scowled as he tried to forget about it, turning his back on the lush lands.
Uncle watched him closely. He didn’t have to do more than take a sip of his tea to convey a question: What’s on your mind, Prince Zuko?
He spoke without thinking, unaware of what he was saying or what it meant. “Uncle, have you ever heard of a spirit splitting in half?” They both blinked in surprise at the question, and Zuko scowled again, furious with himself. “Nevermind. Now, when the men get back—”
“Once,” Uncle said, instantly halting Zuko’s words. He looked off over Zuko’s shoulder as if in thought, and dropped into his storytelling voice, low and impactful. “There was an earth spirit, at the beginning of everything. We remember the names of Agni, Tui, and La, but hers has become lost over the many generations. Some just call her ‘Mother’. She loved the lands, the mountains and volcanoes and everything in between, but most of all, she loved the sky. Every day and every night, she would gaze at the clouds and the stars with adoration. There was a part of her which was wild and wished to be free in the way the sky was. But she was the earth spirit, and she could not leave her beloved ground even if she wanted to.”
“When did she split her soul?” He asked impatiently, not wanting anyone to think he was enjoying the story. He wasn’t. It was boring and unnecessary. He didn’t even really want to know about spirits—he never had. Especially after all that had happened, he had no desire to do learn more… except that the urge to go inland had quieted, turning itself to the story, begging him to listen.
“Ah, ah, Prince Zuko. We aren’t there yet. Now, as I was saying. She didn’t want to leave the lands behind. The rolling hills, the forests, even the ice at the poles were her pride and joy. The other spirits were very impressed by the beauty they saw. But there were humans in these early times, and one day, there was an accident. A man had stoked a fire so he might feed his partner a delicious meal. Some say the partner was clumsy, while others say he was simply expressive. In any case, the partner fell into the fire and burned.”
“Is there a point to this?!” Zuko demanded, his skin crawling at the thought. He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind which said, expressive, not clumsy. Never clumsy.
As if he hadn’t been interrupted, Iroh went on. “The man was devastated. His grief was legendary, but that is a story for another time. What you must know for this tale is that the man buried his partner. It was his way of protecting him even in death, and it gave him a space to mourn him and feel close, because he was. There was only the ground between them. The earth spirit was used to humans dying, of course. But no dead had ever been buried before. Often, they were sent to float on the waves of La or were taken care of in some other way. She was shocked to sense him encased in her element, shocked and quite upset, and went to the grave to see for herself.
“The man was there. No one ever encroached on his moments with his departed beloved, and so he ordered her away. She came and sat beside him anyway, and said nothing as the man pleaded for her to leave. He broke down eventually, his tears falling into the dirt beneath them.”
Zuko was horrified to find his throat was tight. Other sailors around them had stopped to listen—what if they saw emotion on his face? What would they think? He could not be weak! Clenching his teeth as tightly as he could, he told himself very firmly to stop it. It was just some folk’s tale.
(There was another name on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. He could imagine a field with a tree, a perfect resting spot for a perfect man. My fault, my fault. I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.)
“’Who was he to you?’ she asked the man. The story of their love spilled from him haltingly. ‘We were soulmates,’ he told the earth spirit. ‘He was half of me, and all of me.’ They spoke for a long time, sitting over the grave. Eventually, however, the earth spirit was called away to where the land was soft and fertile and in need of shaping. She willed the ground to sprout trees, a jungle of them, and wondered if she had a half of herself. Of course, she thought of the sky. Part of her was always thinking of the freedom she saw there. And after many days of deliberating, after many days of sitting with the grieving man, she decided she had to try to reach the vast openness above her.”
“Did she jump?” Corporal Okada asked, honestly enthralled with the story the general was telling. Several other sailors laughed, but Zuko rolled his eyes.
“Of course she didn’t,” he snapped. “She split her soul.”
“Yes,” Uncle agreed, much more agreeably. “She believed that as long as part of her was on the ground, and the other part was touching it, she could have the best of both worlds.”
“And?” Several people asked at once. “Could she?”
“Some of her days were wonderful indeed. She could ride the winds and create deserts and all was well. But there were other days, where the winds exhausted her and she longed to be on solid ground once again. The closest she could get was to ruffle the grass, but she could not sit, and the half of her that existed in the sky could no longer sense the earth, just as the part of her on the earth could not sense the sky. In the end, I do not believe she regretted her choice, but we can never know for sure. She disappeared some centuries ago now.” He shook his head sadly.
The crew and the two princes were quiet for a few moments, thinking this over. Then, one of the men asked, “What was the story about the man’s grief?”
Before Uncle could reply, Zuko turned sharply. “GET BACK TO WORK!”
(He didn’t want to hear about grief. Even more than shame and dishonor, it haunted him at night. Storms still scared him like a child. Uncle would come to keep him company on the worst nights, and never asked why Zuko got so twitchy, murmuring “It’s not time yet, it’s not time yet…” without even realizing he was doing so.)
One of the first things Aang said to Katara as they made their way back to the village was, “Whoa… do you feel that?”
“What?” She asked, caught between annoyance at Sokka (could he stop complaining for five seconds?) and all the excitement of the day. “Feel what?”
“…that,” Aang said, making a fist over his heart. Seeing her face—surely making some confused but encouraging expression—he shrugged. “It’s like a tug pulling me that-a-way.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the village, but Katara didn’t know anything past the ice fields. “But it’s weird… I feel it to you too.”
Katara couldn’t answer at that moment, Sokka interrupting them to complain that Appa wasn’t flying. Again.
There was a moment, between when they got back and when Aang woke up, that she allowed herself to think of it again. Rubbing her chest over her heart, she closed her eyes and focused on it. Did she feel anything? There was some faint sensation there, she realized, and dug for it, grasping onto it with both hands. Bringing it to the light made her realize—though it was invisble, it spun her around and pointed toward the tent which held the young air bender. When he woke up, she could tell him she felt it too!
She was just about to open her eyes when something else caught her attention. A shadow. A gut feeling. An empty space where there shouldn’t have been one. Frowning, she followed that line in a mind full of snow, and imagined herself at the edge of the ice, looking out onto the water.
Not too far, she thought, totally nonsensically. Almost here. They’re almost here.
What? She tried to imagine herself walking away from the edge, and she could see a path on the ground that lead to the tent. She took a few steps before turning back again. The sun dipped low on the horizon in this vision. She thought she could make out a shape in front of the bright ball of flame, far away but definitely there.
Find me.
Opening her eyes, she scowled and tried to shake the weird daydream away. But her heart was singing under her fist.
Find me.
(Katara hated the color red. What was it good for, anyway? Red cheeks when you were embarrassed. Red fingers when you were too cold, before it got bad. Red blood spilled on the ice. Red armor killing innocent people. Red armor killing her mother. Red armor hurting her brother and her Gran-Gran.
Red scar slanting an eye that she couldn’t look away from.
She forgot about the paths in her mind, forgot to wonder who or what those weird thoughts had been about until they were in the air. Feeling the wind ruffle through her hair, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine them again. There was the invisble pull towards Aang, but the other one had slipped too far away. Furrowing her brow, she tried to find it again, only for that stupid fire bender’s stupid red scar to flash in her mind.
Disgusted with herself, she shook her head like it would make her forget, but of course, it didn’t work.)
(Blue. It was a color Zuko wasn’t supposed to like, and so he didn’t. He didn’t like green or brown or yellow either. Peasant colors, Azula said. But there was something about blue that called to him, that warmed his chest at the same time it twisted in his gut.
The Water Tribe peasants all wore blue, and purple and white too. But there was something about the girl who stood there with the old woman, who stood up to him, that caught his attention.
He still didn’t like blue. But even after she and her dunce brother attacked his ship, he found himself thinking about it, the specific shades and how they’d looked on the ice and on his ship.
Gods, but did he make himself sick.)
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yellow Dress- Hournite Fic
Well hello! We are fresh from the season 1 finale of Stargirl, and I thought we needed a little Hournite pick me up!
This was requested by: @s4karuna
Thank you for the great prompt idea and for your patience. I know it’s been a week or two since your request, but I was a little caught up in Zutara week 2020.
Here is the link to my FF.Net if you’d like to read it there:
(https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13674433/1/Yellow-Dress)
Anyways, I hope you guys like this!
Summary: After a long week of planning an attack on the ISA, the team decides to take the night off and go to the school Fall Fest dance. Hournite Fic. Budding relationship-AU.
------
The school gym is pounding with music by the time Beth arrives at the dance with Yolanda and Courtney by her side. Colorful fall theme streamers are draped across the ceiling, leading to four tall balloon arches on all sides of the gym. The light are low except for the party lights coming from the DJ’s station in the center of the room. Most of the school’s student body is dancing all around the DJ, throwing their hands around and moving their bodies to the beat.
Beth wasn’t too comfortable being at a school dance; she managed to avoid them all through middle school and she wanted to do the same in high school, but Rick made it difficult. A few days ago he suggested they all go to the school dance to have a moment to just be teenagers. At first, Yolanda was reluctant since her parents were strict about her being out. But after Beth convinced Yolanda’s parents it was vital to keep a good school image, Yolanda was able to attend. Courtney didn’t have to worry about her parents needing permission to attend the dance. If anything, Pat was excited Court was avoiding any ISA missions and going out like a normal teen.
As for Beth, Rick took her aside and asked her if she would meet him there. She expressed her concern with going to the dance since she did her best to avoid school functions that would be deemed only for ‘cool kids’. Rick gave her a soft smile, also a bit nervous to be going to a school function at all, but said it’d be fun if she were there.
After separating from Courtney and Yolanda, Beth made her way to the refreshment table. She glances at the teacher watching the drinks like a hawk, waiting for Rick to show up. She starts to fidget with her dress, self-conscious as a bunch of jocks pass compliment her as they pass by. It took her the last two days to find the perfect dress for the dance; it was the annual Fall Fest dance and she wanted to wear something autumn-esk.
While shopping with Yolanda and Courtney, Beth stumbled upon a little boutique selling all different kinds of clothes. Ranging from cute vintage shirts she’s seen her mom wear in high school photos, to the current style most girls at her school were wearing. The three teens wondered around the boutique for a few minutes before finding different dresses to try on.
Yolanda and Courtney found their dresses instantly, while Beth browsed the small room a bit longer trying to find the perfect dress. She knew in the back of her head she was shopping for herself, but she also had this wicked thought of wanting to leave Rick speechless.
And she knew how to do it too.
In the back of the store she found a small rack of 90s style dresses she was instantly enamored by. It was a spaghetti strapped velvet dress that flares out at the bottom. There were only a few dresses left on the rack, and Beth smiled mischievously, knowing which color she was going to pick…
Beth decides to take a drink from the table, cautious of which one’s were sitting out too long. Beth leans against the table and takes a few nervous sips while watching the room, looking for a particular young man. After scanning the crowd for a few minutes, Beth feels herself deflate.
What if he doesn’t come…
Staring down at her colorful drink, Beth takes note of her lipstick smudge on the cup. She sets her cup down on the table before rummaging through her purse for her iPhone and quickly checks to see if her lipstick stained her teeth.
“Thank goodness.”
“’Thank goodness’ for what, Beth?” A deep voice asks from behind her. Her eyes widen recognizing the voice and turns around.
“Hi, Rick!” She says a little too loud. He smiles in return and steps closer to her.
“Sorry I’m late,” He reaches out and pushes one of her braids behind her ear. “My car’s engine was having issues.”
Beth feels herself blush in return. The effects of him touching her lightly made her mind fizzle out.
“No biggie! You look great!” Her eyes sweep down his body noticing he dressed up tonight. The dark blue shirt looks great on him, fitting him nicely. And the yellow tie he wears around his neck makes Beth believe Courtney told Rick what color her dress was. But she didn’t care, she was elated he finally came as promised.
Rick chuckles lightly before stepping back to take a good look at Beth. He wasn’t sure it was her at first when he walked into the gym. He found Courtney dancing with Cameron on the dance floor and asked where Beth was. When she pointed to her at the refreshment table Rick had to take a few moments to settle his heart before walking up to her.
He smiles, noticing she’s wearing his favorite color.
The yellow compliments her dark complexion perfectly, making her already vibrant personality shine even brighter. And he loves what she did with her hair; he doesn’t remembered that last time she braided her hair like this. Don’t get him wrong, he loves her natural short curly hair, but seeing her like this…it made his chest warm. Seeping its way through his body.
Beth stares at him quizzically, wondering why he’s quiet all of a sudden.
“Rick? Is everything alright?” She subconsciously pulls at the hem of her dress as he continues to stare at her. His eyes a shade darker than before.
He coughs into his hand feeling the heat rise to his face. “Oh, umm..” He chuckles awkwardly before walking past her and grabs a cup off the refreshment table. He takes a large gulp before feeling the burning liquid hit the back of his throat.
“Ah, shit.” He tosses the cup down and coughs a few times, trying to regain his breathing. Beth rushes to his side to rub his back soothingly.
“ I guess the chaperone is doing a bad job at keeping the jocks away from the punch. That strong?”
Rick nods, his face contorting in discomfort. “Y-yeah, too much vodka in that one.”
Beth chuckles before reaching under the table for a sealed bottle of water and hands it to Rick. “Here, this should be alcohol-free.” Rick cracks the seal on the water before chugging half of it.
He bashfully grins, already feeling his nerves flare at their close proximity. She pulls her hand away from him when she realizes she’s still touching him. This broke Rick from his nerves and he stands up straight. “Thanks, Beth. Always to the rescue.”
“You know me, always resourceful.”
And then silence.
Beth starts to tap her foot slightly, hating the awkwardness settling over them. Why is this so awkward? They’ve known each other since they were kids, but never really hung out until they were all part of the JSA. But even then, they still took the time to meet up and go to the drive-in or do homework together. They’re friends, right?
When the song changes from a fast pace song to a slower one, an idea pops in Beth’s head. Before she has a chance to stop the thought she blurts out, “Do you want to dance?”
Rick’s eyes widen at the sudden thought of actually needing to dance at a dance. He’s never been to one before, does he even know how to dance? Trying to keep his cool, he tries to find his voice but nothing comes out. Just the thought of holding Beth close to him is making his mind short circuit.
Beth looks at him expectantly, “You know, dance!” She sways her hips slightly, causing Rick to think of all the different parts of his car and not the unholy thoughts running wild in his mind.
He makes some weird noise that vaguely sounds like a ‘yes’ and a hand gesture towards the dance floor, which Beth accepts gratefully. She sets her drink down and grasps Rick’s hand in her own. As she pulls him to the dance floor, he carelessly tosses his water bottle onto the table. Beth pushes them through the couples standing around the DJ and settles to the far right corner where it is more secluded from everyone.
Looking down at Beth, he hesitates as to where he should place his hands. He’s never actually being close to a girl before. Sure, he’s sparred with Yolanda and Courtney, but they weren’t Beth. He actively avoided touching her in fear of being too forward.
The amount of days he wanted to put his arm around her as they walk down the hallways at school. Or the times they go to the drive-in and he wants to sit in the back and cuddle close to her. But chickens out and suggests they stay seated in the front.
But today was different, he wanted her to know he wanted to be at the dance with her. To be close to her and maybe even…
His thoughts are interrupted by her hands finding their way around his neck. He feels his face flame as he rests his hands on her hips, not knowing where else to place them. He likes the feeling of the soft velvet against his skin.
“Why were you staring at me before?” Beth asks as her fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck. The sensation relaxing him as he starts to sway them to the beat of the song.
Rick gazes down at her realizing he’s looking at her directly in the eyes, nothing covering them from his view.
Wow, were her eyes always this pretty?
“Wh-“ he clears his throat and tries again, “Where are your glasses?”
“Oh!” Beth smiles brightly. “I have contacts. I just don’t wear them that often. They get kinda itchy after a while. But I thought, ‘Hey, if there was any occasion to wear them, why not tonight!’” She bats her long lashes at him emphasizing her glasses free eyes.
Beth Chapel, you’re going to be the death of me…
“Wow…”
Beth giggles. She’s really enjoying her time with Rick, especially seeing him in such a flustered state. He was always trying to maintain his cool in public, but she loves seeing him soften up a bit. And it makes her ecstatic that it’s because of her.
Feeling bold, Rick wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Beth is shocked by the sudden movement, but then relaxes in his arms and rests her head on his shoulder. All Beth could think is how thankful she is for Courtney convinced her to wear heels tonight. A simple four inch heel eliminated their drastic height difference some, but enough for her to fit next to him comfortably.
After swaying to the music for a while, Rick feel content for the first time in his life. This moment, even as small as it is, he’s grateful he gets to create this memory with someone important to him. Who knew the girl he always sat next to at lunch, and in class, would be his moral compass?
Rick tilts his head closer to hers, hovering close to her ear. She could feel the warm breath seeping from his lips. The sudden sensation causing goosebumps to ripple across her skin.
His lips brush slightly against her ear, “You look absolutely stunning, Beth Chapel.” He whispers before pulling back to see her reaction.
She lifts her head and looks at him in amazement. How is this the same guy she stopped from ripping hinges off a door a few weeks ago? The same guy that didn’t talk to her for years, but sat next to her at lunch every day at the ‘loser table’?
“You,” She moves her hand to cup the side of Rick’s cheek, caressing it with her thumb. “Rick Tyler, you cease to amaze me.”
He leans into the warmth of her hand before covering it with his. “Hey, I can be charming.”
Her grin widens to a full smile as she stands on her tippy toes and brushes a kiss across his cheek. As she steps back, a goofy grin makes its way across his face. And it stays there as the night continues with his arms wrapped around the girl in the yellow dress.
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Zutara Week 2020 - Day 3 “Fuse”
Ahhh I think this is my favorite so far. This could also be seen as lightly connected to “Reunion” | (AO3)- you don’t have to read one to understand the other but thought it was really cute to think of it that way! Took a shot at Katara’s POV this time, hope I did her justice. There’s also a first kiss... (; This might be my favorite one so far. Please enjoy!
You can find it here on AO3 :)
“This”
Rating: Teen and up
Fuse: (intransitive verb) To become fluid with heat. (Noun) a continuous train of a combustible substance enclosed in a cord or cable for setting off an explosive charge by transmitting fire to it.
Katara looked left and right, saw no sign of the Fire Lord, and darted quickly down the hallway. She didn’t have much time and she only had a slim window to execute her plan. It was something she had never tried, but something she needed to get right.
But it was already 15 minutes until midnight and she still couldn’t find a damn flint!
What made midnight so important? The Fire Lord was completing another trip around the sun. Katara was reminded of this fact a few weeks ago when she received word of the next Fire-nationwide celebration. That was when she first arrived on ambassador business. She brought it up to Zuko the next time she saw him.
“Hey, Zuko - I just realized this is going to be the first time we’ll be able to celebrate your birthday!” She nudged him as they walked together by the pond, both having a short reprieve between different meetings and obligations. Zuko chuckled and shrugged, hands in his robe sleeves. The sun glinted off his crown.
“That’s really the best part about my birthday…” he replied, eyes on the ground. “To be honest, I don’t even like these big parties. I’d rather have it just, I don’t know, you and me. Plus the rest of the gang and uncle, if any of them were able to make it.”
And so, earlier in the night before the staff closed down the kitchens, Katara had gone and baked him a small birthday cake. The staff made no fuss about her as they were already used to seeing her around the grounds. She was determined to surprise him at midnight, and with the rest of the gang showing up later in the day for his celebration. She smiled to herself - it was not an easy task coordinating with everyone who was in different lands but it worked.
She went into the next kitchen, and still no luck with anything to strike a fire. Katara grimaced to herself. I guess it makes sense in a palace with firebenders, you usually ask the closest one to help you out. At this time of night no one is expected to make any food. She exited and continued her search.
She wasn’t exactly sure when it was that she noticed her feelings were more than that of a close friend. Obviously, she and Zuko were close friends but she thought about him often. In the time apart she would find herself thinking about her hands over him as she healed him a few times after his agni kai, his look of appreciation as he peered up at her. How his lips would form her name: “Thank you, Katara.”
She would feel butterflies, which she hadn’t felt since Jet. Because of her history with Jet, she had become wary of the feeling. That flutter meant she could be blinded, or fooled. She never thought Zuko and Jet were the same but she knew herself and when she felt like that about a guy, she was scared of feeling too much. Besides, Aang really cared about her and he had proven that many times. Even gave up the ultimate Avatar state for her…so that meant something, right?
It turns out down the line that still meant they were destined to be best friends. Over time both Katara and Aang grew older, priorities and interests changed. It was a completely mutual and kind parting of romantic ways, which Katara was thankful for.
Katara groaned. She was running out of time! During her trip down memory lane, she still hadn’t found a way to light his candles. She hastily made her way back to the kitchen closest to Zuko’s quarters and did a once over of the kitchen. She retrieved the small cake and inspected it.
She knew he would be awake, as they would often sit up together and vent about their day. One of the tough things about politics was working with people you didn’t really like, but knowing there was a benefit to a professional relationship and it was ultimately to do good. Zuko was able to stand up for himself, and set boundaries when needed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be annoyed with a personality. Katara found he was quite funny when he opened up, and made horrible impressions of his most outspoken diplomat.
Half the time she wondered if he really liked doing impressions, or if he just liked seeing her crack up until she wasn’t even making a sound. At times, she would double over and end up falling onto his bed, and stay there as the rest of the conversation would continue. Zuko would tell her about his progress in the search for his mother, share the guilt he sometimes feels regarding his younger sister. About the first times he learned to be happy while wearing green, and kissing a girl before running away. He would listen as she talked about her journeys to clean the rivers, Ozai-loyalists she would leave stuck in ice after they would challenge her (and bad mouth Zuko). About when the sky has lights that change color yearly back home, what kind of person she wanted to be five years from now. About the first guy who broke her heart and why it didn’t work out with Aang.
“I kinda know what you mean. Me and Mai, eventually we just didn’t want the same things anymore,” he replied. “She’s a great person, but there was just something more.”
The last night she visited him, Zuko turned to face her. They were both on their sides, space between them, but maybe a little less space than there needed to be on his huge bed. His voice was more quiet now, a little more gravelly. His hair was down, longer than before, and his black locks were overlapping the ends of hers. Katara idly wondered what it would be like if it was their fingers that were intertwined. They had stayed talking longer than usual and Katara was beginning to drift off.
“I know we always vent,” she chuckled, eyes closing slowly. “But what’s your favorite part of your day…?”
Katara chalked it up to Zuko thinking she was already asleep. She almost was, until after a few moments she heard him sigh.
“This.”
The butterflies were flapping their wings strongly in her stomach now, no big deal, just a mini maelstrom. Katara never brought that word up, and neither had Zuko. She had woken up barely before he did, and slipped out of the room to avoid any weird rumors. But things between them had been good, though different. It was like they were both keeping a secret from each other, and at the same time hoping the other would find out. Maybe it really was just a dream? Either way, she couldn’t get it out of her mind, couldn’t stop that word from repeating itself in that damn bedroom voice.
With a sigh, she carefully made her way to Zuko’s quarters. She knew he wouldn’t think any less of her, but what kind of cake came without lit candles? She stood at his door and paused, knuckles hovering above the wood. She couldn’t shake her nerves and told herself to get it together Katara, you’ve knocked on his door before!
Zuko opened the door shortly after her staccato knock, a smile on his face when he met her eyes, and his expression changed to one being impressed when he saw her offering.
“Happy birthday, Zuko,” Katara sung, genuinely happy to be here for him. He moved aside for her to step in and she did so, making her way to his desk.
“Thank you, Katara, I’m…I’m really surprised,” Zuko managed to say. He put his hands up, “I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever done this for me at midnight. Thank you, Katara. This means a lot.”
“Well, I wanted this to be special…” she turned and frowned, before giving a sheepish smile. “But as you can see I couldn’t find anything to light the candles with at this time of night! I’m sorry.”
“This is definitely special.” Zuko chuckled and moved closer to her, placing her between him and the desk. His eyes remained on her when she felt a heat by her hip. She looked down and saw a small, controlled flame in his hand and smiled. “Don’t you worry about the flame…I got it covered.”
He lit the candles and Katara instructed him to sit down, and sung him a little song. Zuko closed his eyes as he made his wish. Katara took this chance to admire his face in this moment of vulnerability, thought of kissing him if it weren’t for the fact she would burn herself in the process. Hell, maybe it’s worth the risk. Zuko blew the candles out in one breath and Katara clapped lightly, giving a small cheer.
As she removed the plates that were stacked underneath the cake, and utensils from her pockets, she couldn’t help but wonder. “So…what did you wish for?”
Zuko gently took the plate she offered in his left hand and placed it on the table, before taking her right hand in his. Katara’s heart raced as he stood up to meet her, the table no longer in the way. He placed her hand on his heart and she felt the steady thrum underneath her palm. She was pretty sure the butterflies in her stomach were close to dying with how erratic they were flying around. Zuko’s golden eyes searched hers for any protest, other hand going to her cheek, before dipping his lips close to hers.
“This.”
And he closed the gap between them, gently, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted to. Katara did not want to and as a matter of fact, she found herself letting a breath out that she didn’t even know she was holding. She turned her head for a better angle, and was the first to deepen the kiss. Her hands went to the base of his neck, into his hair, and his hand that was freed dropped to her waist to pull her even closer. She reveled in the feel of his strong hands, his body against hers, and leaned into him so much Zuko eventually leaned on the table himself. He was a better kisser than she even thought he would be, and yet respectful enough to let her lead the way for this first moment of contact. Firebenders could heat their body up right? Because she was on fire from his touches.
They eventually pulled away, Zuko resting his forehead on Katara’s. They were both flushed and breathing heavier than before, but they were both happy. He kissed her forehead and she giggled, tilting her face up towards him.
“Honestly, that’s the answer I was hoping for.”
And Zuko grinned at her before capturing her lips with his once more.
Ohhh I was so close to taking this up a notch and making it a mature piece...but then I wasn’t sure. If anyone would be interested in reading a second part that does go into that, please reply/send me an ask/DM me and let me know! As always, thank you again for reading <3
#zutara#zutara week#zutara week 2020#fuse#zutara fanfiction#writing#atla#atla fanfiction#avatar#avatar the last airbender#avatar: the last airbender
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
30 Days of Zutara - Day 22: Assassin
Zuko sighed. The budget plan was extremely long and complicated, the numbers danced in front of his tired eyes. He took a sip of the steaming cup that he didn’t remember having asked for. Ginseng. Uncle’s favourite, though he would have had a word or two about over-brewing it. It left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
Zuko turned his attention back to the numbers, they were becoming more and more blurry. He pinched the bridge of his nose, but his vision did not clear. Then everything happened fast; his limbs stopped obeying him when he tried to get up, he wanted to yell for help but no sound came, his veins were burning and he crashed to the floor. Poison. He managed to knock over an antique vase as he collapsed, which shattered with a loud noise. Zuko watched the fragments fly around in slow motion. The last thing he saw was the infinite blue of her eyes...
...and there he was floating between the sparkling ocean and the azure sky. It was calm, soothing. Timeless. He never imagined the spirit world would be so beautiful. Aang told him about restless, disgruntled spirits, Uncle Iroh never much said anything about the place, but his eyes betrayed sadness. Zuko always imagined that his death would be all fire and ashes, but suspended in this gentle caress, relief washed over him. It was really not that bad...
He floated towards the myst and he could see the outlines of the shore. A familiar figure was standing on the shore in a blue tunic. His heart stopped, which was certainly weird, because surely it was already not beating, being dead and all. But then again, the spirit world had its own rules.
“You...don’t belong here,” he stammered.
Katara looked back at him, her eyes angry, “Neither do you, Zuko. You have to get back.”
Suddenly the floating did not seem like such an attractive option. “I… I don’t know how,” he admitted sadly. “I can only drift.”
“This is my element, and it will obey me,” said Katara with conviction. “Just work with me.”
“What do I have to do?” he asked.
“Do you trust me?” there was something desperate in her voice that made him feel uneasy.
“Yes.” he replied without hesitation.
“Then just let it happen,” she said and summoned the waves. She shaped the water into dozens of long fingers. He fought her countless times, but it was a move he didn’t recognize. The cool fingers crawled up his skin, surrounding him completely, like translucent ropes binding him and holding him down. He waited. She lifted her hand, it was a small move, but suddenly the waters-fingers all lengthened into pointy ends like sharp icicles. With a flick of her wrist the icicles all pricked through his skin, and kept burrowing themselves deep into his vein. The pain was blinding. Worse than having your face burnt off, worse than being hit by lightning. Zuko screamed and tried to pull away, but Katara kept her icy grip on him.
“Don’t fight it. Let it happen,” she said calmly. “You have to trust me.”
Zuko nodded. He tried to focus, breathe through the pain, like he did during his recovery after the Agni kai. In. Out. In. Out.
“Much better.” Katara nodded. She flicked her wrist again, and it felt like salty water washing over a thousand open wounds. Sharp burn everywhere. Greenish-black puss flowed out of his body, down the watery tubes. When all the black stuff was gone replaced by clear, red blood, Katara raised her hand. “You’ll have to do the rest, Zuko.”
She cut the watery cords and Zuko started falling at dazzling speed. His body crashed violently into the ocean, sinking deep, until it was all dark and cold. He was disoriented, and struggled for a breath. This is the end then, he thought, all the pain was in vein...
But then he heard it through the waves, like a mantra Never give up without a fight. Never give up without a fight. Never give… He raised his head with great effort until he saw a flickering light. The surface. He kicked with his legs, propelling himself toward the golden specks. Agni was showing him the way. His arms and legs were so cold, he could barely move, but he kept swimming nevertheless. He broke through the surface and gasped for air...
He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the infinite blue of her eyes. She looked upset. He had no idea what he did this time to piss her off. “Katara…” he whispered.
“I came as fast as I could,” she said, almost angrily. “How could you not tell me? I had to learn from Suki. About the other attempts.”
“I did not want you to worry,” he muttered.
Katara ignored his weak protest. “And how you constantly disregarded the precautions the royal guard suggested. Like someone tasting you food…”
“This way nobody else had to get hurt.” Zuko shrugged.
“Nobody else?” Katara snapped. “What do you think will happen if you die, Zuko? Who will keep the peace? Your father? Your sister? The blood-thirsty generals? We can’t lose you.”
“I didn’t think…”
“I can’t lose you,” tears were welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Katara,” he reached out and squeezed her hand weakly.
“I had to bend your blood to get the poison out,” she sobbed. Oh, so, that’s what it was...He knew how Katara felt about using that particular power of hers, how she felt it destroyed a part of her. He hesitantly touched her hair and she leaned her head against his chest, her tears soaking his tunic.
“It’s ok…” Zuko whispered and patted awkwardly her head. “It’s ok…” His arms wrapped around her as held her quietly until her crying subsided and she took a deep breath. She dried her eyes. There was a long silence and he felt like an idiot for making her cry.
“So what happens now?” he asked.
“You’ve made it through the worst, but there is still a ways to go to full recovery,” she explained on her healer voice.
“You are staying then?” The thought made him uneasy, but also filled him with hope.
“As long as it takes...” she said firmly.
“Katara, what will Aang say or your father…”
She shrugged. “I can’t help Aang teaching air acolytes, and my father taught me that a water-tribe warrior always knows where she’s needed most.”
Zuko was pretty certain that Hakoda meant the men, but it was also true that she was every bit the water-tribe warrior no matter what the customs of her tribe said. “Katara, you can’t…”
“You maybe Fire Lord now, Zuko, but you’re my patient and I’m in charge here. So stop arguing,” she cut his protests short.
“As if I ever stood a chance with you…” he scoffed.
“You see. It’s easier just to accept it.” she smirked. And truly, it was easier. Zuko suddenly felt an absurd exhilaration, that he wouldn’t be so alone in the huge, empty palace.
“Katara…” he whispered.
“What now?” she asked with mock annoyance.
“Thank you,” caressing her hand with his thumb.
She ran her fingers through his hair, down his scarred cheek and smiled. “You’re welcome.”
#30daysofzutara#zutara#atla#atla fanfic#brusselssprout writes#zuko#katara#zutara month 2018#this is kind of a fix it#because don't tell me that Katara wouldn't have immediately gone to Zuko once she knew about the assassination attempts#knowing she may be able to save him#knowing the chaos his death would mean
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unexpected
OK, I did not expect this one to come out so angsty! This is for Day 7: Unexpected Visits, and it’s super sad! I’m just warning you. I promise I will follow with Day 8: Spice where Katara visits a sex shop... ooh fun!
I’m actually writing this one in another author’s universe. So, if you don’t like mine, go read hers because it’s way better. So @until-my-last, I hope this is worthy of your awesome Zutara fic, Time Heals Wounds.
Did I warn you that it’s sad? Also, it’s Kataang. I know! So sad! And no cheating, only bonding between Katara and Zuko. Like serious bonding. Oh, and Ume is Zuko’s wife, an OC from Time Heals Wounds.
There were lots of things about turning thirty-five that Katara hadn’t expected.
First, the recovery after her last pregnancy. It had been hard. Harder than she expected. Harder than the other two. It took much longer for her to feel normal again. And she was unexpectedly relieved when Tenzin weaned. Like this whole baby thing was just so taxing on her—physically and emotionally—and she would be juuuuuuust fine to be done with it.
But she knew Aang would want more.
She didn’t expect to get pregnant again so soon, though.
Her hormones were such a mess, but she really did want to hit him when he said, “That’s great news, Katara! Another chance for an airbender!” It didn’t help that he said it in front of Bumi. Who by now had passed the age where bending ability was typically revealed—or not.
Tenzin had been such a fitful baby that she was almost certain he’d turn out to be an airbender. The same week she found out she was pregnant, he learned to walk—no, wander. Her little nomad child, she’d come to think of him. Except that she was so very tired in these early stages of pregnancy that she didn’t want to chase a toddler. Surely this had been easier with Bumi and Kya, hadn’t it?
It was also the same week that Aang was called away to weeklong peace proceedings in Ba Sing Se. The Earth Kingdom was worse than the Fire Nation at maintaining the peace, she decided. They always needed Aang’s help. Then again, King Kuei was no Fire Lord Zuko. And Zuko would probably not ask for help even if he needed it.
But then her dear friend did ask for help—when she least expected it. And he was there to offer help—when she unexpectedly needed it.
Aang’s one-week trip turned into three weeks which wasn’t altogether unexpected. She would’ve graciously accepted this as typical Avatar duty, if only she hadn’t been so tired—and hot. Did she have these hot flashes last time? It wasn’t even summer, yet. At some point, bending away her own sweat wasn’t worth the energy or the effort.
Thankfully an air acolyte took a break from her ceaseless praying to lend a hand with the kids. Katara knew she would never have that kind of devotion. Aang probably deserved someone who did. And someone who didn’t resent the idea of having another baby.
Surely these thoughts were just the hormones talking. She loved her children. And she loved this new life inside her just the same. Didn’t she?
“Uncle used to say that if you frown too much, your face will stick that way.”
Katara nearly fainted. But not from hormones. From the sound of his voice.
“Zuko! What are you doing here?”
“Well, I realized that I’ve never met Tenzin. So it’s been over a year. And Izumi wanted to see Bumi and Kya. It’s dreadfully boring at the palace.” His tone was uncharacteristically upbeat. The crease in his brow gave him away.
“No siblings, yet?” It was a personal question that she disliked when people asked her. Especially since she heard no airbenders, yet, instead. But this was Zuko, her best friend. Surely he wouldn’t take it personally.
Except that unexpectedly, he did, thus confirming her suspicions. “Ahhh, no—um…”
“Zuko, what is it? Is Ume OK?”
“She’s uhh—well, we’ve tried, of course. But I think something’s wrong. Not with that. I don’t care about that. She’s just tired all the time. And short of breath. Do you think you could…?”
“Of course, Zuko. I’d be glad to take a look. Is she here?”
“No. She didn’t feel up to the journey. I—of course, we have plenty of room for your family at the palace. Come whenever is convenient. Stay as long as you like.”
“Aang is in Ba Sing Se right now, but when he gets back…”
A flurry of activity interrupted their conversation. Bumi practically tackled Zuko with a laughing Kya trailing him. Ten-year-old Izumi then appeared with a drooly Tenzin perched on her hip. Katara marveled at how much the young firebender had grown, her childlike features fading into a womanly beauty. There were definite traces of Zuko in her appearance, but glimpses of Ume, too.
“I heard you’ve been training with the sword, Master Bumi.” Zuko ruffled the seven-year-old’s crazy crop of hair.
“Yes sir, but I’m hardly a master. I sometimes train with Uncle Sokka… when he’s not busy.”
“Hmm, you need a master, don’t you?” Zuko’s eyes flickered to Katara, but she didn’t have a good answer to his unspoken question. She taught Kya waterbending, but it was true that Bumi’s own training had been neglected.
“Yes sir.” The disappointment in the child’s voice was answer enough, though.
“Tell me, Bumi, have you ever fought with two swords?” Zuko redirected.
The boy’s chin lifted, and his eyes sparkled. “Like at the same time? That’s impossible!”
“Well, you have two hands, don’t you?”
Katara fought the urge to say that her son might not have two hands after swordfighting lessons with Zuko. She could tell, though, by the way his eyes lit up and how Izumi rolled hers that he didn’t get to do this often, if ever.
So Zuko went off with Bumi, Izumi and Kya practiced their bending moves together, and Katara put Tenzin down for a nap. Suddenly it was very quiet, and she had time for herself. It was most unexpected, and she honestly didn’t know what to do with herself. She decided to prepare the guest room for their unexpected visitors in hopes that they would stay awhile.
Later that evening, a giddy, sweaty Zuko shooed her out of the kitchen and offered to make dinner. It was such an unusual gesture. Aang never made dinner. She didn’t even expect Zuko to know how to cook. He was royalty, after all. The bigger surprise, though, was that he cooked them meat. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed it—how much it reminded her of home. She didn’t dare ask where it came from, although Bumi answered soon enough.
“Mom, Fire Lord Zuko took me hunting!”
“Oh, he did, did he?” She shot her friend a look of warning. It was one thing to teach Bumi the swords, but hunting encroached on their family values.
Zuko just shrugged. “It wasn’t really hunting. The animal was already hurt, so we kinda… put it out of its misery? I’m a terrible hunter anyway. I couldn’t hit a moving target if I tried.”
Somehow Katara doubted that. She was about to expound on her reprimand, but Izumi spoke first.
“Ew, Dad. Can we not talk about our food like that?” She made a fake choking sound. “I think I’m going to become a vegetarian.”
“Cool. Can we trade families then? Because I want to eat meat everyday!” Bumi popped another bite into his mouth, beaming proudly as he did.
It was a most unfortunate time for “morning” sickness to hit. Katara quickly excused herself from the table. She didn’t expect Zuko to follow her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“ He held back her hair. He actually held back her hair. She held back her tears.
After she had recovered, both from the retching and repressing, he continued in a calm and soothing voice, “I didn’t mean to make you sick. I didn’t think… of course, if you never eat meat—“
“No, Zuko, it’s not your fault. I-I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.”
She couldn’t read his expression much like she could read her own emotions in that moment, either. She wondered why he had to be so nice, so helpful, so… perfect. Scarred, yet flawless.
That was ridiculous, though. Nobody was perfect. The only reason people would overlook each other’s imperfections was if love had made them blind.
Suddenly, Katara saw the situation all too clearly.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed. You and Izumi are welcome to stay, of course. Just make yourself at home.”
“I’d prefer not to travel at night if that’s alright. We’ll head back first thing in the morning. I appreciate your hospitality.”
His tone was so formal and his expression so stiff, it was like she was talking to the Fire Lord and not a dear friend. Had he also noticed the shift that had occurred between them, albeit subtle? She couldn’t very well sort through these muddled thoughts and emotions, not in her current state. Perhaps it would be best if she slept through his departure the next day.
Little did she know what darkness lie ahead in the night and what new light would be cast on their relationship by morning.
She expected to drift right to sleep, but a slight cramping sensation kept her awake. She blamed it on the meat… at first. Then the pain intensified. Then there was blood. Then water—her hands coated in it, glowing, healing. Then stillness. Then screaming.
She almost felt like she was outside of herself watching the scene unfold. This couldn’t be happening. No. This wasn’t happening.
She must have fallen asleep at some point because she woke up the next morning in his arms. She remembered what had happened, but she didn’t remember him.
“Zuko, wha—“
“Shhhhhh. It’s OK.”
Her throat felt raw, so she knew she had been crying—a lot. Still, she managed, “I k-k-killed my baby.”
Zuko tightened his grip on her shoulders. “What!? Of course you didn’t! These things… just happen. It’s nobody’s fault. You even tried to save your baby. I saw your healing water.”
She sighed deeply and buried her face in his chest. “But I d-d-didn’t want to be pregnant again. Not so soon. Not when Aang—“ She couldn’t finish. It sounded too selfish to say out loud. But the pressure had become so overwhelming. She couldn’t promise airbending heirs to her Avatar husband no matter how much she wanted to—no matter how hard she tried. She felt like a failure of a wife—and a mother.
She saw Zuko’s jaw clinch, and she knew what he must be thinking. She didn’t want to portray Aang in a bad light. It certainly wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t even here.
That’s right. He wasn’t here.
But Zuko was.
She nestled deeper into his warmth, his comfort. It was what she needed, and she admitted to herself that she needed it from him. Somehow she knew that Aang would grieve the loss of their child, the chance at another airbender. He would grieve for her. But Zuko—he would grieve with her.
I’m sorry. That’s something we have in common. It seemed like only yesterday that he’d spoken those words in a cave full of glowing green crystals.
“It gets easier,” Zuko said suddenly.
“What?” His words shook her from her reverie.
“S-s-sorry. That’s not very comforting, I know. I shouldn’t have—“
“Ume,” she whispered before she realized the name had escaped her lips. The same thing must’ve happened to her—to them. Guilt overtook her. She shouldn’t be here clinging to Zuko when he had a sick wife back at home. She quickly released him and moved away from the bed.
“Katara, I’m sorry if I did something wrong, I—“ There was pain in his voice and sadness in his eyes, like he was still very much the boy in the cave. But he wasn’t, and they had come so far since then. They were closer than she’d ever expected to become with someone from the Fire Nation, a former enemy, the Fire Lord, even.
“No, Zuko, it’s fine. You’re… I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve been… perfect.”
She reached out to take his hand and gave it a small squeeze. Her gaze then drifted to the stained bedsheets, and her vision blurred with tears. A warm hand cupped her face, and a calloused thumb swiped across her wet cheek. His touch felt nice, but as she leaned into it, confusion and clarity struck her once again.
“Zuko, why are you here?”
“Because I heard you screaming in the night.”
“No, I mean, why are you here?”
“Oh. I came to ask you for help.”
Yes, of course. She sighed and pulled away.
“And because I wanted to see you.”
His statement and his smile were so genuine that her tears flowed freely now. There was something so painfully beautiful about this moment they shared together. She would never want to relive it, but she would cherish it all the same. She shuddered at the calm comfort of his next words.
“Hey. You go get yourself cleaned up. I’ll take care of cleaning up in here. OK? Then, you get some rest, and I’ll get some breakfast ready for when the kids wake up.”
Yet again, unexpectedly perfect. Or perhaps perfectly unexpected?
With Zuko, it was always a little unclear.
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
When They Meet
Katara and Zuko have been in a long term, long distance relationship. After so long, they finally take the time to video chat with one another.
“Katara? Katara can you hear me?”
Static hung in the background as Zuko turned the dial on his speakers back and forth.
“Ye-” he heard faintly. “Yeah!” this time his speakers were on full volume and he had no time to brace himself for the deafening sound of her voice.
“Oh, haha. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Zuko groaned, rubbing his ear as his long distance girlfriend appeared on the window of his computer screen.
She was smiling at him, eyes as blue as the ocean. She was beautiful. Zuko took a glance at the small window next to hers to make sure he didn’t look ridiculous. After almost a year of chatting online and on the phone, Zuko would finally see the face behind the girl he fell in love with through random friends on social media. Granted, he had seen plenty of her posted photos but none held a candle to her real life beauty. If she didn’t take his breath away before, she sure as hell did now.
His grin was so big, he didn’t even consider how much of a kid it made him look like.
“I like you face.” she chuckled, eyes bright as she studied his features on her computer screen.
“I-I like yours too.” he laughed nervously.
“Oh, really. What do you like about it?,” Katara tucked a stray hair behind her ear and adjusted herself in her seat, propping her knee up so she could place her hands on it to rest her head. She was wearing a light blue sweater that fell over one shoulder with a pair of white shorts. Her hair was put up in a messy bun and she wasn’t wearing make up like she did in the pictures she sent him. Zuko preferred her without it.
“I-uh” he faked a cough, a blush forming on his cheeks. “I like your eyes.”
“Uh-huh?” she encouraged with a teasing smirk.
“And your cheeks.”
“These.” she gave an open smile and poked at both her cheeks with her fingers. “What else?”
“Your ears.”
She flicked her ears and gagged. “These giant things? Can’t say they’re meant for flying”
Zuko shook his head shaking with laughter. “Your nose.”
She crossed her eyes.
“I hope that’s not your orgasm face.”
“No. This is.” Katara kept her eyes crossed and flicked her nose with her tongue.
“That’s attractive.”
“Yeah, I turn plenty of heads. So, what have you been up too?”
“Nothing much. Aside from work I just sort of hang around home.”
“Wow! That’s wild!”
“You think that’s wild, you should see me practice my juggling.”
“That is, indeed, wild. You know, I was told to stay away from bad boys like you.”
“You don’t like bad boys?” Zuko raised his brow.
“Oh, I love ‘em. The stay-at-home amateur juggling type has always twisted my panties…”
“Glad I’m your type.”
“…if I were wearing panties.”
“This conversation just went in a whole new direction.”
“As long as that direction is up, then I know I did good.” She said in a sultry tone, moving her eyebrows up and down.
“Hah, innuendo. Good one.”
Katara covered her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater as she giggled. “You are adorable, Zuko.”
“I like bad boy better but I’ll accept the compliment.” he smirked. He loved Katara’s open personality. He wasn’t very good at being social. He often came off as angry and uninviting when in actuality he was awkward and misunderstood. But not with Katara. She made him feel like he could truly be himself around her without worry. The only issue was the distance. She was all the way in the South Pole and he, in the Fire Nation. It would only be a few more days before they would meet face to face.
“You almost ready to see me? I will warn you, when I snore, I sound like shark-whale during mating season.”
“I already find you arousing,” he rolled his eyes. “you don’t need to sell yourself out.”
“Then I won’t hold back.” she slumped in her chair and huffed.
“What’s wrong, Kat.”
“I want to be there now.” she pouted.
“Soon. We’ll be spending everyday together from then on out.”
They were silent for a moment , Zuko eyed her twisting the ring on her finger. She hummed, lips pursed, and then gently brushed the diamond with the tip of her index. He could see scattered boxes in the background of her apartment. Averting her eyes back to the screen, she gave him a smile that made his heart jump. “I love you, Zuko.” she said sweetly.
Zuko knew this was all a risk. Things could easily go wrong no matter how long they’ve talked and no matter many times they said they love each other. But when he found that ring, so plain and simple yet so uplifted with beauty just like her, he knew he wanted to do something big with her. And she said yes. If there was ever anything in his life he doubted more than anything, this he knew he never would.
“I love you too, Kat.”
A/N: I am so sorry I haven’t posted a drabble in a while on tumblr. Between work, my kid starting wrestling and my other fanfics, not including my fics for upcoming Zutara Month, I have been overwhelmed. I will try to post at least twice a week until the holidays are over.
101 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lokihartfelt
Lokisancoeur
blueberryscans
Blueberry Scans
top-staff-character-whether
Untitled
squished-effects
even in these chains you can't stop me