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mimzy-writing-online · 3 years

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Writing Toph Beifong, Advice from a Blind Writer

I’m Mimzy, an actual visually impaired writer and blogger who talks a lot about writing blind characters accurately and sensitively. A while back someone sent me an anon asking how to write Toph more accurately and sensitively.

Anonymous asked: Hi there! Your blog has been super-helpful already - I thought I knew a bit about writing with blind characters, but it turns out there was a lot to learn - but this is more specific. I'm writing a The Last Airbender fanfiction, and one of the characters is Toph. I think the fandom has done a fairly good job of respecting her blindness, but what are some things you'd like to see when people write her? I want to represent the character as best as possible; thanks in advance!

It’s taken a while for me to answer because I have a lot of thoughts about it as both a blind writer and someone who has read a lot of atla fanfiction. So here we go:

Before we get started, I want to mention some things:

One: I have an entire series for writing blind characters that continues to grow with time and the most up-to-date version can be found pinned as the top post on my blog. There will be a time-stamp for when the post was last edited and a long series of links to all relevant posts on the subject.

Here’s a quick link to that post, but again, all you have to do is click my blog url and you’ll find it immediately.

Two: I’ve noticed something amazing about the atla fandom and I would like to thank you for it. I’ve noticed a lot of bloggers have taken to writing image descriptions for both the fanart and memes you post in the fandom, whether it’s OP including the description or another blogger adding it themselves. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a fandom so consistently doing this and that’s incredible. Realizing how many different blogs were picking up this habit has warmed my heart.

I’d like to see writers use her other senses. There’s soooo so much more to her O&M (Orientation and Mobility) than earth sense.

Beyond sight and earth bending, there’s hearing, touch, smell, taste, sense of direction, hot vs cold, sense of pain, sense of where your body parts are in relation to the rest of you, sense of internal well-being, etc. Before Toph had mastery of her earth bending, she had to have mastery of those too.

Toph also must have very strong opinions about certain smells, sounds, tastes, and textures. Toph is opinionated about everything, and when so much of your understanding of the world depends on senses that most people are ignoring in favor of some other sense you don’t have, it gets frustrating. I’m sure that tree looks pretty but the smell is terrible. Who cares if this fabric looks pretty, it’s scratchy, do. not. like. at. all.

But also in positive ways too. Oh, that flower arrangement looks bland and monochromatic? Who cares, it smells sweet and honey-like. Weird dark cavern with high ceiling and no light? The harmonics are awesome.

Every character probably has a certain sight or image they’re particularly fond of: Katara watching snow fall, or Aang enjoying how small the world looks from up on Appa, or Zuko enjoying the sunrise every morning during meditation. In that line, Toph must have some things personal to her that she enjoys.

I imagine she likes the taste of foods familiar to her childhood, the smell of whatever flowers grew around her home, and the texture of certain kinds of dirt Example: loose dirt probably isn’t the best for seeing, but I think she would enjoy how it feels to run her fingers through it or maybe enjoy the way it softens her perception of the world the same way sighted people like to see colorful, bright lights reflecting off puddles in the middle of rain.

If you struggle with this, that’s okay. I recommend taking some time to think about it for yourself, to find what tastes and smells and textures and sounds you enjoy the most, what makes you feel safe and at home, what brings you comfort, and relate that back to Toph.

In a Modern AU, I want to see Toph have a cane. Even in a Modern AU with bending included in the world building, I think Toph would benefit from having a cane.

The cane has a lot more function than bumping into things. A big part is that it signals to others that you are very obviously blind. Which is a big deal because sighted people are really, really bad at spotting the blind person.

(psst, please stop saying ‘the blank look in her eyes’ because I swear to god it’s been killing me inside for years.)

Also, even in an AU with bending, I think Toph would like the advantage of tapping her cane to create a stronger, more distinct vibration than a small shifting of her weight on her feet. It would have more control.

You could give Toph a guide animal, buuuuuuut, um, Toph is not a guide dog person. Like, there are some people who definitely prefer a guide dog, and some people who definitely prefer a cane, and some who definitely prefer no mobility device at all. Toph does not have the vibes of someone who wants to be both responsible and reliant on an animal when she’s so insistent that she can take care of herself on her own. Toph likes animals, but not that much.

Although, yeah, only 10% of the blind community use mobility devices, so cane and guide dog users are the minority of the blind community, but I stand by the vibe that Toph would love the independence of a cane. Also, it’s almost never ever done. Modern AUs never seem to touch much on Toph’s O&M skills with canes or guide dogs.

I wrote a whole post on everything you need to know about canes, what orientation and mobility is, how you learn O&M, what kind of canes exist, how to use them, how to describe the sensory input a cane gives you, and everything I know about guide dogs from past research.

Honestly, you could give Toph (or any blind character) a cane in any AU, because I fully stand by the theory that canes are a piece of technology that has been invented, lost, and reinvented again and again.

I wrote “I found a piece of lost blindness history” a few months ago after a visit to see my grandparents. My grandmother told me how her blind aunt found a way to write letters by hand to send to my grandmother when she was a child. I speculated on how the long cane has probably been invented and then lost and then reinvented over and over again in history, as well as giving a little history on the growing popularity of guide dogs in the 20th century following World War 1.

About the “blank look in her eyes,” I have a theory to the exact cause and nature of Toph’s blindness.

I know it’s common to think that the milky green color of her eyes is why she’s blind, though I’m not sure how many realize that milky green color is caused by severe cataracts. At least, cataracts is what I assume to be the reason for the color of her eyes. However, people with cataracts still have some remaining sense of light and shadow perception.

Only 9% of the blind community is completely blind, seeing absolutely nothing. The rest have some remaining vision, even if that’s only light and shadow perception or the perception of vague movement.

The percentage of people born completely blind is even smaller.

Toph says that she’s never been able to see, which would lead me to guess that the initial cause of her blindness was a defect with the visual processing part of her brain. I also theorize that the cataracts developed slowly over her very formative years and that she likely wasn’t born with them. For that reason, I think it would have taken a few weeks or months for her parents to realize there was something wrong with her eyes.

Here is a post about the developmental years of blind children and how their life would differ from both sighted children and from someone who went blind as an adult.

What is it like to see nothing?

It’s a concept that sighted people struggle with and I completely understand. I myself didn’t understand the concept of “nothing” until someone explained it as this:

“Imagine trying to see out the back of your head.”

Which, genuinely, imagine that. Try that. Because here’s what I found. There’s no part of my body that can help perceive that. I don’t have eyes there, nor do I have a part of my brain that can process that. Because of this, there is no sense of light or dark, no shape or shadow or movement or depth that I can perceive. There is nothing.

And honestly, it gives me a headache trying to think too much about it.

Toph doesn’t see black, doesn’t have a mental image of it. When people talk about light and dark, Toph has nothing to base the concept on. The closest relation she has to that is silence versus sound, or her earth sense when she’s in the air on Appa versus when she’s on solid ground. But it’s not the same.

I would like to examine the way the show tried to describe Toph’s earth sense, that black void with ripples of white stretching from her feet and outwards. Television is a visual medium so of course their explanation of Toph’s earth sense would be visual, but that’s not what it’s actually like in her head. More accurately, it’s like touching the back of your head to something and feeling what’s solid behind it and what has more give. A wall versus a pillow for example. Slamming your hand on a flimsy table and feeling it rattle under your palm. And for someone so adept at using that sense, she feels not just the table surface under her palm, but the individual rattles down the four legs, how uneven those rattles are because the legs are carved decoratively instead of solid planks, and how the foot of each leg bumps against the ground, and how the floor vibrates in response to the impact, which she feels in both her feet and hand.

About Toph’s Relationship with Her Parents

It’s not something I see touched on much. There’s been a lot of focus on Zuko and Azula’s relationship with their parents and the abuse, as well as exploration of Sokka and Katara’s trauma with losing their mother, and Sokka looking up to his warrior father while Katara struggles with her abandonment issues.

Please don’t take this as a critique, because there are a few valid reasons for this and I would like to give you some insight on how to explore Toph’s relationship with her parents.

For starters, the show had a lot more reason to focus on Zuko and Azula’s parents, with Fire Lord Ozai being the primary villain and Zuko’s greatest abuser, and Azula’s dependent worship of her father in response to Ursa’s neglect and favoritism of Zuko, which was likely Ursa’s response to Ozai’s favoritism of Azula. Their parents are huge driving motivators for why Zuko and Azula make the decisions and mistakes they do, why they are at one point in the show the villains themselves. (And why I think Azula should get a redemption arc and some healing.)

Katara’s trauma of losing her mother and blaming herself is a huge factor in both her response to the war, her relationship with her bending, and her motherly nature with her friends. The show has to explore that. Just as it has to explore Sokka’s problems with toxic masculinity in response to being the man of his village, and his desire to be a great warrior and leader like the father he idolizes.

The show needs to explore that to make the plot move forward, and it benefits from these being two sibling sets with different responses to their upbringing and different sibling dynamics, setting them up as foils for each other.

The show also wouldn’t benefit by giving Lao and Poppy Beifong more screen time. Their established character were two nobles who kept as far out of the war as possible and prospered monetarily for it. Poppy was polite and demure and Lao liked to lead the conversation. Unless the gAang decided to return to Toph’s home, those characters had no reason to pop up anywhere in the show. And if they did, they would be a hinder to Toph and her part in the plot as both Aang’s earth bending teacher and as the greatest earth bender in the world, tossing Fire Nation soldiers eight ways to Sunday.

So truly, I understand that there’s not a whole lot of canon material (comparatively) to go off of when developing this, but I will offer some insight on what is there in canon.

Toph’s relationship with her parents is explored in that it maps out why Toph doesn’t want to be mothered by Katara, why she wants to prove how independent she is, but there’s very little on screen interaction between Toph and her parents.

Toph deeply loves her parents. I think that plays into why she doesn’t want Katara mothering her, because she has a wonderful mother at home who she loves and wants to better understand her, but she had no friends growing up and no older sister, which are the roles she needs and wants Katara to fill. If Toph wanted a mother figure, she would have latched onto Katara. Look at how Zuko never sought out another mother figure but did find a father figure in Iroh as he began to heal from his childhood trauma and separate his self image from his father’s acceptance.

Toph is in a complicated situation, she loves her parents but the way they’re raising her is hurting her in the long run. But Toph can see that their actions are because of their immense love for her. She can see how they would do anything for her. While she never had any examples of how other noble children were treated by their parents, who might have been distant or disinterested or always away for their social and work lives, she was remarkably loved by her parents. Her father put careful thought into her tutors and checked in on her progress. Her mother feared for Toph’s emotional state when she was kidnapped (even if she was incorrect about how Toph would respond), showing genuine empathy for her daughter.

I think their over protective nature became the love language Toph best understood them by, and part of her reasoning for not revealing how capable she was, was because she wanted to keep experiencing that love and care for as long as she could. But it’s not a love language she would put up with from anyone else.

I would like to point out Toph’s genuine excitement to see her mom again in the season finale of Book Two, how badly Toph wants her mom to understand and accept her for who she is.

My thoughts on what Toph can’t do: read, swim, see in the sand, fight things mid-air.

For how incredibly powerful the show makes Toph with her earth bending and the O&M she taught herself through it, they do touch on some of her weaknesses when they come up and find a useful way to showcase them.

The Serpent’s Pass was an excellent example of Toph’s vulnerability in water. From her fear of not being able to see on Katara’s ice bridge to not being able to swim and needing Suki to save her, Toph’s weaknesses putting her in danger added to the excitement and “sitting on the edge of your seat” feeling while watching the episode without turning her into someone who was helpless. She was just in a position where her normal defenses were useless.

Just like the earth benders in the metal prison in the ocean, or Katara having little water in the middle of a desert where her friends needed that water to survive more than she needed it to fight, making her vulnerable later in the show when the insect-wasp things attacked. Just like fire benders being weaker at night, or powerless during a solar eclipse, or a sighted person being lost in the dark. Those were just situations in which the tools you were accustomed to relying on could no longer help you or were taken away.

The show was clever in that it didn’t make her inability to read a direct threat to her safety, but rather as a clever plot device for her to be alone when the sand banders attacked and have to choose between fighting them to save Appa, or holding back an entire fricking building by the tiniest spire on its very top from falling into a void leading to the spirit world. It also showed her weakness to not being able to see or fight as well in sand. Which the show later made an effort to show how she’d improved on that problem in Book Three when she was surrounded by nothing but sand at Ember Island.

Like improving her ability to see in the sand, I would like to see a character teach Toph to swim, or at least float, so that she never feels helpless again. If she took the initiative to improve her sand bending so much, I’m sure she would have learn to swim eventually.

And on the note of reading, I’ve seen some speculation on how Toph could learn to read, whether it’s through using ink that has some percentage of earth mixed in, or developing the sensitivity to feel out the different weight, consistency, and texture of ink on paper.

I would like to bring your attention to Louis Braille, the blind Frenchman who invented Braille while studying at the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind in Paris France (established 1785). Previously Louis was learning to read through a method in which each letter was pressed into the paper to leave an imprint that someone could feel out with just their fingers.

Louis Braille concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1. It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2. Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3. This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4. If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were.

The subject of Braille, the start and controversial near downfall to Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles were discussed in a post about writing a blind character during the Victorian Era.

I’ve heard others complain in the past about fantasy universes in which a sighted person invents a solution to allow the blind to read, when the most effective and longest lived method was invented by a blindman over two hundred years ago and is the standard taught in schools today.

And while I couldn’t easily explain it or how it works because I can neither read Braille nor speak Chinese, I can tell you that Chinese Braille exists and works only slightly differently from the Braille western languages use. So, again, modern AUs especially would benefit from enabling Toph to read Braille and use a computer and phone with screen reader.

But just as easily you could choose not to have her learn to read but rather have sighted people read things aloud to her. Whether it’s in a professional setting as an adult having an assistant who reads and writes for her, or as a cute, fluffy little moment between Toph and another character. Both are just as genuine to the blindness experience.

Blind Jokes

If you ever get around to reading my post about blind jokes, I’d like you to remember that it’s primarily written for people writing original characters and that Toph canonically makes blind jokes, so to take away from that would not be true to her character.

Does Toph’s Earth Sense Negate her Blindness?

It’s a question I’ve seen raised before and discussed by both abled, disabled, and blind people. There are multiple perspectives on it, but my own take on it is that Toph’s earth bending does not negate her blindness, but rather functions very much like the process of learning to use a cane.

She had a tool, a teacher, and she learned to use that tool. Instead of a cane, it was seismic perception and her teacher were blind badger-moles. She spent years learning to earth bend as they do and then continued to take it to new heights as she explored fighting with it on her terms against sighted fighters.

Come to think about it, I would love to see Toph teach another visually impaired or blind earth bender who to see and bend as she does.

Is Toph Good Blindness Representation?

This question was posed to me in the comments of my master post, and my answer was something like this: “Toph is good representation, but she can't be the only type of representation we get. She's the best we had 15 years ago, but there are a million ways to nuance the blindness experiences. Toph's experience being born blind, having very over protective parents, being a small girl in a patriarical and wealth influenced society, having no friends growing up. Those are all great aspects of blindness to show, but there is so much more to explore. As for her blindness and whether or not that's negated, that's also nuanced. She has limits, she's not all-powerful, but she is the best earth bender hands down. More or less, I love Toph, she's a great character, give me like a million more blind characters who are completely different from her.”

I want to see accurate and well-written blind characters become much more common in modern media, and that’s why I started this blog. So if you decide you want to write your own blind character from scratch, feel free to come back and look at some of my other stuff.

End Notes:

I want to thank the anon who sent the original question because it never occurred to me how much the atla fandom would benefit from a post like this.

You should follow my blog. Along with advice about writing blind characters, I write general writing advice and answer questions about writing, college, plot development, character analysis, and living with blindness. I curate writing advice from fellow writeblrs, write my own image descriptions for writing memes, post about mental health and working/living with ADHD, disabilities outside of blindness, and LGBTQA+ topics.

#avatar the last airbender #toph beifong #atla toph #atla #blind character #writing advice #writeblr #fanfiction

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f0xfordcomma · 3 years

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re:union (kataang week 2021) DAY SEVEN

prompt: the sea and the sky

re:union

chapter seven: reunions

rating: T

words: 2529

summary: "He had fought hard for this unity. Had spent countless hours in courtrooms and offices arguing with dignitaries and representatives about the benefits of a United Republic. He had spent long nights drafting up documents and looking over contracts. He had dreamed of finally seeing this day, finally seeing this unity. All he could see tonight though, was a yellow flower drifting around the crowded room on an intricately braided head of ochre hair."

read it on ao3

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chapter seven: reunions

By the time Aang had handled Councilman Zhu’s dumpling crisis, he had lost track of Katara.

“She went to get changed for the feast,” a familiar, though deeper than he remembered, voice sounded from behind him.

“Sokka!”

“Hey buddy! It’s good to see you.”

They squeezed each other in a bone-crushing hug. The first one, Aang realized, he had gotten since his return. Aang held on a little harder at the thought.

“Where’s Suki?”

“Getting ready with the rest of the warriors. They are playing a special part in the performance tonight.”

“Wow! I can’t wait to see that!”

“Heh—yeah, me too.” Sokka’s voice went somewhere dreamy. “But, uh, I think it’ll be hard to watch with your head buried in my shoulder like this…”

“Oh right! Sorry… just happy to see you.”

“I missed you too buddy.” Sokka squeezed Aang’s shoulder reassuringly. “Now, you should go get ready! Can’t have the guest of honor stinking up the place tonight.”

“Guest of honor…” Aang grumbled, rolling his eyes in exasperation at Zhu’s exuberance. Still, he broke away from Sokka, giving him a nod as he made his way towards the room’s egress.

“Oh, and Aang?” called Sokka from near the food tables where he was stealing an hor’s d'oeuvre from under a cloche. “She’s not seeing anybody, in case you were wondering.”

Aang stopped still, his ears burned, his head swam. He hadn’t realized how much the question was plaguing him until he had heard it vocalized. She’s still single. There’s still time. He had let her go once, had regretted it every day since. She’s still single. He had no idea if she still wanted him the way he wanted her. But she’s still single. He resolved to try and change that fact by the end of the night.

He opened his mouth to speak but only a low whine came out. He cleared his throat but ended up coughing around the words as he forced them out. “I—is that… is that so?”

“It is.” Sokka snorted.

“That’s uh… thanks Sokka!” Aang shouted in salutation as he rushed out the door, needing to hide his burning blush and, as everyone had insisted, finally get cleaned up.

⬭

He wore a new set of robes. The pants dyed a dark amber with northern saffron. The belt and sash a sunny terra-cotta color that complimented the blue of his tattoos.

He surveyed his face in the mirror, taking in the scruff along his jawline, the tan around his temples, the laugh lines near his lips. He hadn’t spent much time looking at himself over the past few years, hadn’t had a mirror at any of the temples. The only time he would look at his reflection was when shaving his head, and even then, the refraction of the water made it difficult to examine his countenance with any detail.

Aang had never much minded the way that he looked--hadn’t had much use for vanity when living with the monks, hadn’t had much time for insecurity when running from the fire nation, hadn’t had much need for self-consciousness when being loved by Katara--he’d always thought his face was friendly enough, his body was strong enough. Something about looking at himself now though, fully a man, strong and steady and serene in a way that he’d never seen himself before, made his chest swell with confidence.

“I look good, huh buddy?” He directed the question to Momo, who had joined him in his room after an afternoon spent swooping around Cranefish City in search, no doubt, of sweets from strangers.

In reply, the lemur flew over to perch on his shoulder, scratching through the stubble on Aang’s chin with a squawk.

“You really think she’ll like it?” He scratched Momo between the ears and produced a plum from the pocket of his pants.

Momo took the fruit eagerly between his paws and greedily gobbled it down.

“Aw buddy, you flatter me.”

“Well babe,” a feminine voice dripping with thinly veiled amusement sounded from behind him, “it looks like we’ve officially lost him.”

“You’d think so, but he’s been talking to the lemur like that for as long as I’ve known him.”

“So what you’re telling me is, he has always been insane?”

“Pretty much.”

Aang’s face was beet red (he had lost count, at this point, as to how many times this had happened today) as he spun on his heel to face the Firelord and Firelady, who were standing in his doorway in their formal robes and appraising him with mirth-filled expressions.

“Uh, hey guys… how, uh… how long have you been standing there?”

“Oh, long enough, hot stuff.” Mai shot him a wry smile with a raised eyebrow before turning and pecking her husband on the cheek quickly as she took her leave. “I’m going to go make sure the kids are ready. We leave in ten, boys.”

Once Mai was out of earshot, Zuko burst into laughter and walked over to throw an arm around Aang. “Anything you want to talk about there, Aang?”

“Yeah! Why is it that I don’t see any of you for three whole years, and the first thing anyone does is tease me.”

“That’s not true! The first thing I did was put you on babysitting duty.”

“You’re not funny, Zuko.”

“Hey! Now who’s teasing whom?”

Aang scowled. Zuko, trying to school his face into a slightly more serious expression, straightened up and stalked a few paces across the small room.

“I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice because Uncle isn’t here to do it for me.” Zuko pantomimed stroking his beard and affected a strong accent that, ultimately, sounded nothing like Iroh. “Follow your heart.”

“Follow my heart? That’s it? No tea metaphors? No floral imagery? You make a pretty rotten Iroh, Zuko.”

“Hey, I tried.” Zuko shrugged. “I don’t know, man. You’re still in love with Katara, right?”

Aang flushed but nodded his head, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Aang met Zuko’s eyes determinedly and nodded again.

“Good. You’d better.”

“Thanks Zuko.”

“Any time. By the way? I agree with Momo, the beard really suits you.” At that, Zuko strode out of the room, chuckling softly to himself.

⬭

“So, Sugar Queen,” Toph plopped herself on Katara’s bed with a huff, swinging her bare feet up to rest on the adjacent wall so she could still feel what was happening. “You seemed pretty cozy with our Prodigal Son back there. Locked that down yet?”

“Toph!” Katara spluttered, pulling her paintbrush away from her lips.

“That’s a no, then?”

“Wha--no, not a… he just got back! And I don’t even know if… it’s none of your business, anyway.”

“Right, right. So you guys haven’t talked about your feelings, like, at all, yet? What the heck was all that flirting on the beach then?”

“What flirting? We were just hanging out. As friends! Being friendly! We were friends before we were ever anything else, Toph. You know that!”

“Uh huh, uh huh. Good point, Katara. Your definition of ‘friendly’ has always been a little bit off when it comes to Aang…”

“Toph! I will kick you out.”

“No, you won’t. Want to know why?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You know me so well, Sweetness. And you aren’t going to kick me out because I know you very well and if I’m not here in, oh, seven minutes when you inevitably start second guessing yourself, to give you one of my patented Toph Beifong pep talks, you are going to freak out.”

Katara grumbled something crass under her breath and scowled at Toph’s reflection in the mirror, but ultimately, she knew her friend was right, so she obliged the company while she finished putting on her makeup.

Katara rarely wore makeup. It hadn’t really been a custom among the women in the Southern Water Tribe growing up, and during the war there hadn’t been time to worry over such trivialities. Afterwards, though, she had been the victim of many a makeover by Ty Lee. Had been the guest at many formal galas that required a bit of dressing up. Had been gifted a set of Kyoshi warrior paints by Suki. Had spent an afternoon wandering around the market in Caldera hunting down the exact right shade of lipstick with Mai and learning everything that she could possibly hope to know about knife maintenance.

Aang had always gotten incredibly flustered around her when she wore makeup. That was, perhaps, her favorite part of the process.

It had been years since she had put any makeup on her face. Her face was different now. Her eyes crinkled a bit at the corners when she smiled, her cheeks were less plump, more defined, her lips were fuller—perhaps the lipstick made her lips look too full? Perhaps it wasn’t the same color that she had used that one night in Omashu when Aang had ended up wearing more of it than she had? Perhaps she should wear something pinker? Redder? What had Mai said about skin undertones?

“You look fine.”

“You really think so, Toph?”

“No idea.” Toph deadpanned. “But I’m sure that even if you look like an armadillo-hog, Aang will still forget his own name when he sees you. That is your goal with the facepaint, right?”

“Uh…”

“Of course it is, don’t try to lie to me, Sweetness. Listen, I know two things: that boy’s heartbeat has always only ever been impacted by you, and a lot of other men have also had hammering heartbeats when they talk to you. Wanna know what that tells me? You ain’t ugly. In fact, I assume you’re pretty hot. So, chin up, shoulders back, let’s go get you your man back.”

Katara spluttered and blushed. “Oh… uh, okay.”

“You don’t sound confident yet. You are still in love with him, right?”

“Yes.” She whispered.

“Obviously. Then get your pretty little butt out of here and go do something about it. Chop chop, girly!” Toph, still laying on Katara’s bed, started snapping at her while she squared her shoulders in the mirror and gave herself one more once over, nodding at her reflection and resolving to talk to Aang as soon as she had the chance.

“Right. Okay. I can do this. Thank you, Toph.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Eh, yeah… I told Yugi to meet me here so we can head over together. Or wait… was it Satoru? Toklo? I don’t know, some guy is picking me up. Can’t show up to a stuffy formal function without someone to talk to all the boring people for me, now can I?”

“You do know all of your friends are going to be there tonight, right?”

“I said what I said.”

Katara rolled her eyes as she hurried past Toph and prepared to leave. “Whatever, just lock up when you leave, okay? Mrs. Shao is out tonight so I’m the last one in the house.”

⬭

The ballroom was lavishly decorated. The colors of all four nations draped around the room in every detail. Tapestries hung on the walls with the new seal of Republic City, flanked on either side by the insignias of the four nations. The tables were lined with dishes from across the world. The floral arrangements featured regional blooms from all over. In a ballroom in a government building in a sleepy corner of the Earth Kingdom continent, the entire world was united in one beautiful display.

He had fought hard for this unity. Had spent countless hours in courtrooms and offices arguing with dignitaries and representatives about the benefits of a United Republic. He had spent long nights drafting up documents and looking over contracts. He had dreamed of finally seeing this day, finally seeing this unity. All he could see tonight though, was a yellow flower drifting around the crowded room on an intricately braided head of ochre hair.

From his seat onstage next to Zuko, he watched her make her way around the room hugging and smiling and laughing and chatting. Her sleeveless blue dress was modern but carried traditional nods to her water tribe roots. Her lips were a dark cherry red. Her hair was braided. He had braided it. A yellow flower sat at her crown and winked sunshine at him whenever she turned her head. She was beautiful. Of course, he already knew that. But she was beautiful.

“Aang? Hello… Aang??”

“Huh, what?” Aang was drawn from his stupor when Zuko nudged him with his elbow.

“You’re up.”

“Oh.”

Zhu introduced him. He somehow made a speech. There was roaring applause. Her eyes were blue, her lips were red, the flower was yellow. She was blushing.

He took his seat next to Zuko. Her eyes were blue . There were performances. Her lips were red . Suki shot finger guns at him in greeting as she and her warriors took the stage. The flower was yellow. Music started up and the gathered crowd dispersed to make way for dancing. She was blushing.

“Excuse me.” He rushed off-stage and into the crowd, chasing a glimpse of yellow in ochre, a swish of blue chiffon. She was pushing her way through the crowd, too. Her eyes were blue. “Katara, I--”

“Dance with me?”

She was offering him a hand. The tsungi horn rang out a familiar song. He took it. “Of course.”

They knew this dance by muscle memory. It was as familiar as their own names, as each other’s name. He flew around her in swirls. She swam around him on waves. They were the sea and the sky and there could not be one without the other. He lifted her, she spun around him. He dipped her, she glowed. She was the sun and he was the moon. She illuminated his sky. He compelled her tides.

The music ended. They were breathing heavy, faces inches apart, hearts still hammering the now silent drum beat.

“Can we go somewhere?”

⬭

The sound of the party flooded the streets of Republic City. Everyone seemed in good spirits, bustling about in a dance as they went about their evening errands. The cicada-crickets sang along to the Tsungi horn. The air was hot, heavy with humidity. They watched the waves from a rooftop. Their hands were intertwined.

Out across the bay, the sea and the sky collided in a canvas of colors. The green and yellow and red and orange of twilight reflected on the water’s dusky blue blue blue. The colors blurred together, obscuring the horizon line, obscuring the separation between their two elements. Out here, there was no sea, no sky. No air, no water. No Aang, no Katara. Just them. Just together. Just finally.

They made promises to each other. They held on. They did not let go.

“Sweetie?”

“Hmm?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

He had to lean every so slightly down to kiss her.

Her hands in his hands.

Blue. Grey.

Sea. Sky.

Their city had a new name.

They were here.

They were home.

⬭

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's done! It's done!

So sorry for the delay in posting this! I could've squeezed it out yesterday but didn't feel like doing so would wrap up all the things the way that I wanted to so I needed to take a bit more time on it and, obviously, this chapter grew to be quite a bit larger than the others.

I have had SO MUCH FUN participating in Kataang week this year and hope to do it again next year maybe? Also I /might/ have a little storm brewing for Maiko week so... be on the lookout for that at some point?

The love and support that I've gotten for this fic this week? OH MY GOD like wow it's been so lovely! Thank you all for reading.

And a million thanks to @foxy-knowledgeseeker for being an absolute angel and beta-ing this sucker for me. I'm gonna apologize for my choas just once more. (Sorry! Thank you!)

Bwah! Okay, time for a nap <3

@kataang-week

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

#kataang week 2021 #kataang #ao3 #foxford writes words #avatar the last airbender #atla #katara #aang #zuko #sokka #mai #toph #momo #the sea and the sky #re:union

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 4 years

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Speaking about disability in fiction, would you say Toph from a:tla is one of the best written disabled character? Is there anything that could've been improved about her character?

DEAR FUCKING GOD do I love Toph. I would humbly submit to have Lady Toph “The Blind Bandit” “The Runaway” “Greatest Earthbender of All Time” “Inventor of Metalbending” Beifong harvest my organs to achieve eternal life if such a thing were possible. There are a ton of things that Avatar: the Last Airbender does really well when characterizing Toph, and a few I wish they’d done differently. [PLEASE NOTE: I am nondisabled, so if I err, please tell me so.]

Is she one of the best-written disabled characters?

She’s certainly a damn cool character whose disability informs but does not define her. I can’t really say if she’s “the best” or one of, because I haven’t read everything, but I can say that I really like her.

First of all, her story is intersectional AS FUCK. Toph’s gender, her disability, and her social class are so inextricably linked that there’s no analyzing any single element in a vacuum. She’s all about being tough and independent. Partially that’s about being underestimated because of her disability. Partially that’s about being commodified because of her gender. Partially that’s about being privileged due to her upper-class upbringing. All three interact to inform her identity.

“Tales of Ba Sing Se” shows that blindness bars Toph from certain aspects of femininity — she can’t perform the traditional motions of making herself up, attracting young men, being pretty and delicate — which causes her to embrace a more accessible masculine identity. “The Runaway” shows that Toph enjoys femininity as well as masculinity, but that she struggles to build nurturing relationships when she’s concerned with appearing weak, and that that sometimes leads her to cross ethical boundaries. “The Chase” and “Bitter Work” are all about how Toph values her independence above all else — because she’s had to struggle against her gender and disability influencing others’ perceptions, but also because she’s had the privilege to avoid helping others due to her social class. In “The Ember Island Players” she loves being represented by a big tough strong man, but she also clearly associates masculinity with power in a way that becomes troubling when contrasted with Aang’s horror at being played by a woman. Etcetera.

Even the whole Earth Kingdom’s role as a sort of middle rung of imperialism – less powerful than the Fire Nation, more powerful than the Water Tribes and Air Nomads — informs both the relative strictness of its gender roles and the ability of individual Earth citizens to subvert those roles. Toph’s identity, like the identities of the other Avatar characters, is inextricably linked to her position in society.

Secondly, Toph has a lot of the features of a complex and agentic character, and her disability is neither ignored nor centralized. She’s often right, as when she becomes the first person to trust Zuko and the only person capable of making Aang an earthbender. She’s often wrong, as when she tries to justify theft with a “they started it” argument or belittles Sokka for being a non-bender. She’s often somewhere in between, as when she chooses to let Appa get taken by sandbenders in order to protect her friends or gets into screaming matches with Katara over matters of procedure.

There’s also the fact that Toph interacts with certain environments differently based on her blindness, drawing attention to (in)accessible aspects of those environments the others wouldn’t have necessarily noticed. She finds sand and wood flooring inconvenient, she hates navigating water and ice, and she initially avoids walking on metal. Although she’s not a big fan of flying, she mostly adapts as long as her friends actually remember that she can’t navigate when they’re on Appa’s saddle.

When conflicts do occur with the environment, Toph puts the onus on the environments and on other people to adapt or help her to adapt. She’s amused and annoyed when Sokka tries to fake correspondence between her and Katara, or stupidly asks why she doesn’t like libraries. She rips the bottoms off of her shoes. She calls attention to her inability to do things like scan the ground while flying when her friends are at risk of forgetting. She plays into others’ assumptions to try and get onto ferries or get away with breaking the law.

Another thing I like: the art style for Toph avoids the trap of “draw sighted person, change eye color, call it a day.” She doesn’t turn to face people most of the time when she’s talking to them, but also doesn’t seem totally clueless as to their relative locations. She gets the lay of the land by stomping her feet or pressing a hand against the ground, not turning to “look” in various directions. She doesn’t bother to keep her hair from blocking her eyes, because her bangs don’t interrupt any sight lines. She’s neither a comically blind character who apparently can’t navigate at all with sound or touch, nor a dramatic “blind” character whose every action comes off as those of a sighted character. Toph repeatedly mentions that she doesn’t get the value in sight, clapping back at the assumption that of course she’d want to be nondisabled.

[Image description: A screenshot from “The Chase,” which shows Toph shouting at Katara, with her face turned away from Katara. Toph is pointing in anger, making it clear that she’s addressing Katara and that she knows Katara’s location relative to herself based on Katara’s voice.]

One last small but important victory for Avatar: it passes the Fries Test. It has two or more disabled characters — I can explain why Zuko counts as disabled if anyone’s not sure — who survive to the end of the story without being cured, and who have their own narratives rather than existing primarily to educate nondisabled characters. As a bonus, they have at least one conversation with each other about something that isn’t disability-related. The Fries Test is meant to be a minimum standard for representation, much like the Bechdel Test, but it’s still nice to know that Avatar passes.

[Image description: A screenshot from “The Ember Island Players,” which shows Zuko and Toph sitting on the floor in a hallway of the theater, talking about the play and about Zuko’s uncle.]

Is there anything that could’ve been improved about her character?

If I ruled the world, or at least the Avatar writers’ room, I’d start with two changes. One’s small-ish, one’s big and controversial.

The small-ish change: tweak Toph’s narrative to make her earthbending super-abilities less directly counter to her blindness. As it is, she has shades of a superpowered supercrip: a disabled character from SF whose superpower primarily acts to nullify their disability, thereby giving them the lived experience of a nondisabled person for most or all of the narrative. Toph is definitely not an egregious example — she’s not Daredevil, who can use his superpowers to read handwritten papers, navigate unfamiliar environments, “feel” colors, detect tiny gestures, and shoot guns. She does embody experiences with blindness like disorientation when flying and frustration with hanging posters. She just also has several instances of not experiencing blindness when she (as she puts it) “sees with earthbending.” I’m not sure what that tweak would look like, precisely, but I’d like to see one all the same.

The bigger change: I’d cast a different voice actor. Jessie Flower is, based on what little I can find on Wikipedia or IMDB, not blind or visually disabled. Disability rights activists are right now fighting hard against the trend of “cripping up,” wherein nondisabled actors use mimicry or makeup to pretend to have disabilities on TV and in the movies. Avatar doesn’t go that far, because it doesn’t have Jessie Flower onscreen in (for instance) contacts that mimic blindness. However, it nevertheless does not cast a blind actor for the role. The issue here is that disabled actors are almost never allowed to play nondisabled roles… and disabled actors are also almost never allowed to play disabled roles either. By failing to find a blind voice actor, the show denied that opportunity to a less-privileged talent.

The Guardian compares the issue to the way that cis actors of the wrong gender are too-often cast in trans roles, men used to play female characters onstage, and white actors used to play black characters in American movies. I never know how much those comparisons make sense, because among other things they completely ignore intersections of those identities. But I also think that it’s sometimes the best way to help people understand why excuses like “but it’s haaaaaaarrd to find blind female actors of Asian descent” don’t hold water.

And here’s where I go from “slightly controversial” to “extremely controversial” and might have to enter Witness Protection. Avatar is getting a live-action adaptation in a few months. I predict that it will cast a nondisabled actor to play Toph. And I predict that the same voices which (rightly!) raised such a cry against “racebent” white actors playing Aang and Katara will be completely silent on the topic of “abilitybent” actors playing Zuko and Toph. I’m saying this on Tumblr partially to get this statement out there:

I am an Avatar: the Last Airbender fan who will ONLY support the live-action show if it casts disabled actors to play disabled characters.

I’m saying it partially because I hope to be proven wrong, either because a blind actress will be cast as live-action Toph or at the very least because Avatar fans will object when a sighted actress is cast. I’m also saying it because I think that fans can and should protest responsibly when marginalized voices are erased by beloved works of fiction. Will casting a blind actress require more “work” to make the set accessible? Probably. Will casting a blind actress perhaps necessitate more CGI for fight scenes than using a sighted one? Maybe. Will it be worth it to cast a blind actress anyway, so that a girl with the lived experience of Toph can portray her on screen and actually get the chance to break into an industry that bars most blind girls from participating? YES.

#toph beifong #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #nothing to do with animorphs #disability studies #disability representation #blindness #atla criticism #intersectional feminism #long post #atla meta #anonymous #asks

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years

Text

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 1: “I lost my clothes and need to borrow yours“

On FF.net//On AO3

Aang had always been a cheerful young man, but he had certainly never met anyone quite as enthusiastic and optimistic as Guozhi. He was ten years Aang's senior (or, perhaps, Aang was ninety years his?), and he behaved with the childish wonderment of a toddler sometimes, so thrilled by the changing times that it was difficult to keep up with him, even for the Avatar. Aang rather enjoyed working with the man, who had a grand vision for the future of Republic City: he had been chosen by Earth King Kuei as the Earth Kingdom's representative to sit on the growing city's council, and he seemed most eager to put his overflowing energies to good use by working in politics.

That being said… there were drawbacks to a man with such rambunctious personality. Such as the one Aang was facing right now:

"I know you were excited, but we told Sokka we'd come by at ten… it's still seven!" Aang exclaimed, but Guozhi ignored him, humming a random tune as he rushed up the stairs of the building they had only just entered freely – the Avatar was always allowed to go wherever he pleased, a fact Guozhi couldn't seem to get enough of.

"I know, I know, but isn't this exciting?!" exclaimed Guozhi, beaming. "You and I, the first members of the Council of Republic City, shall be recruiting the third one today! I can't wait to meet him!"

Aang sighed but smiled, following Guozhi until they reached the third floor, where Sokka's current apartment was. Aang had only met Guozhi a couple of weeks ago, after Kuei had sent him as his envoy, and he hadn't been able to introduce him to anyone but Katara so far, since Guozhi had been living with them, if only temporarily, while his new accommodations were settled. Sokka had been somewhat elusive as of late, and Toph was far too busy with her police force to spend time greeting Aang's new friends… even so, Aang had managed to send a message to Sokka two days ago, asking if he would be open for meeting with him and Guozhi… Sokka had only sent back an agreement to their meeting yesterday afternoon, telling them to drop by at ten. And it was seven. Oh, he'd be so angry…

"Okay, okay, this is the one, right?" Guozhi announced, stopping at the door. "Can we knock yet? Or do you want us to stand out here for three hours instead? I mean, you could tell me all about how you defeated the Fire Lord again, if you'd like! I know you've already told me the story, but I wouldn't mind hearing it once more, it'll make it even more vivid to revisit it and…!"

"Oh, Guozhi," Aang sighed, smiling awkwardly and patting his shoulder. "Just… wait for a moment, okay? I'll do the talking. If he's not up for seeing us yet, I guess we'll just wait. Alright?"

"Fine, yes, go ahead! Right on ahead!" Guozhi grinned, almost vibrating with excitement. "I'm going to meet Sokka… Sokka! Team Avatar's genius!"

"Well, keep calling him that and he'll definitely like you quickly," Aang smiled before turning towards the door.

He knocked softly, biting his lip as he waited to hear any sounds. Nothing. He knocked again, a little louder, and called:

"Sokka? I… I'm sorry, buddy, I know we're a bit earlier than you told us, but… you think you can see us yet?"

At first, nothing. Then… a soft rustling. Aang frowned: he couldn't hear remotely as well as Toph could, but after many years of training his seismic sense, he had learned to pick up vibrations even without trying to. So, how about genuinely trying to…?

He stepped hard on the floor, startling Guozhi: he sensed the man beside him, but also the corridor, and the living room, just past the door… a rather messy, chaotic room, it seemed. And then, beyond that… movement. There was movement inside: Sokka was home, and he was awake, too.

"What was that? Was that some secret Avatar intimidation technique?!" asked Guozhi, grinning "I wanna try it!"

He stepped hard on the floor too, making a strange, angry face that broke into a grin mere seconds afterwards. He whipped his head towards Aang, his long hair spinning in the air as he waited for the Avatar's approval.

"Well? How did I do?" he asked, beaming.

"Uh… great! Really good job!" Aang smiled, though he chose to knock on the door again. Sokka wouldn't take it well if he knew Aang had been using his seismic sense against him, to a fault… "Sokka? I think I hear you in there? Again, buddy, I'm sorry, but…!"

Clumsy, quick footsteps rushed to the door, which opened with a light creak: only a sliver of room could be seen through the now ajar door. And the blue eye that lurked behind it should have seemed menacing, Aang thought, as he pulled away worriedly… but instead, it seemed he was panicking just as much as Aang was.

"Aang…? D-didn't I ask you to come later, dammit?" Sokka squeaked.

"Sorry, buddy," Aang said, with an awkward smile. "We can wait until you're decent, though!"

"Heh. That sure helps," Sokka growled. "Just… give me a minute, okay? I've got, well… stuff to deal with first."

"Oh. Uh, sure?" said Aang.

"We'll wait! We can! See, now you can tell me the story of the Fire Lord's defeat again," Guozhi said, nudging Aang as Sokka frowned.

"Well, now, Aang doesn't tell it right," he huffed. Aang laughed as Guozhi gasped, excitedly.

"And you do?! Oh, you must tell me!" Guozhi exclaimed, startling both Aang and Sokka as he rushed to the door.

Sokka leapt back for his own sake, realizing Aang's new friend would push the door open so brusquely it'd smack him in the face if he didn't get out of the way. All those months on a journey during his teenage years, fielding blows of all sorts, whether friendly or not, had definitely done wonders for his reflexes and ability to avoid dangerous attacks…

But perhaps it would have been a good idea to stay behind the door, preventing it from swinging open in a rush, allowing Aang and his friend to see the inside of Sokka's apartment… the messy inside of Sokka's apartment.

Sokka himself wasn't in the most respectable of shapes: he had dressed up lightly only, lacking a belt with which to close his sleeveless shirt and to ensure his pants wouldn't tumble down his waist. His hair was a ruffled mess too, but what startled Aang the most were the darkened stains on his skin over his neck and abdomen.

"Sokka? Are you okay?" Aang asked, stepping closer to his friend, who grimaced and leapt back. "You look…! What's with your skin, buddy? You should go see Katara, she can probably help…!"

"I don't need Katara's help!" Sokka exclaimed. "B-besides, you two said you could wait, go back outside while I fix this place!"

"Fix it? Well, I like messy places!" said Guozhi, grinning before stepping up towards Sokka. "I'm Guozhi! You're Sokka! I'm the new Representative for the Earth Kingdom in the Republic City Council, and we want you to be the Southern Water Tribe representative!"

"Y-you… woah, woah, woah, WHAT?!" Sokka exclaimed, turning to Aang with eyes wide as plates. "Are you trying to tell me that… that all along this was for a job interview?!"

"Uh… sort of?" Aang grinned awkwardly.

"You totally should do it, though! You're the Avatar's friend! The genius of Team Avatar!" Guozhi exclaimed, clapping excitedly. Sokka blinked blankly before raising an eyebrow.

"Well, can't argue with that, but hey, why didn't you at least think to ask me if I want to, first of all?" Sokka said, turning to Aang again.

"Uh, that's literally why we're here? To ask you?" Aang said, with an awkward smile. "Look, we'll explain everything right now, but are you sure you're okay? We haven't heard that much from you in the past month or so? I did want to check on you anyways, but I didn't think you might be sick…"

"I'm not. I'm not sick, Aang," Sokka said, with an awkward smile. "Now, though, you can just… wait until ten, right? It's really early, way too early, I never get up at this hour and I could use a moment to get adjusted to this ridiculous situation, not to mention clean things up? So…"

"You sure?" Aang said, before sighing and shrugging. "Well… I know Guozhi isn't the type to judge, and you and I go way back! So, you know, maybe to make up for what we just did, we can help you clean up! How does that sound?"

"Uh, no. Definitely not! Haha, ha, why would I have the Avatar and his friend cleaning up my house? That's stupid!" Sokka exclaimed: the panic in his behavior was even more alarming now than before. Aang crooked an eyebrow.

"Sokka…?" he said. Sokka blinked blankly.

"What?"

"Are you hiding something?" he asked.

"No…?" Sokka mumbled. Aang, however, snorted and laughed.

"Come on, if this mess is because you adopted a pet, I'm the last guy who'd be against it! Oh, wait, is that what that thing on your skin is? Are you allergic to…?"

"I'm not allergic to anything, I…!" Sokka exclaimed, before shutting his mouth tightly. So he didn't want to make noise? Aang frowned, confused again. "There's no pet. Nothing like that. And I can fix this without your help, I don't need…"

"Oh? That's fancy."

The color drained from Sokka's face when he glanced at Guozhi: he was holding a flowing, silken robe in his hands… a red, flowing, silken robe. Aang glanced between the robe and Sokka for a moment, as the non-bender raised a hand, as to speak… and no sounds came out.

That was what convinced Aang to try again: his seismic sense was nowhere near as good as Toph's, but he was sure he could feel more of the apartment's contents now than before…

Aang slammed a foot onto the floor, and Sokka was far too late to stop him. He gasped and turned towards the Avatar, mortified… unable to stop Aang from sensing that there was one more person inside his bedroom.

Aang's eyes met Sokka's. Sokka's eyes met Aang's. Guozhi watched them both, curious and amused.

"Well… it is a nice robe," he said, again. "Is it you want it for yourself, Aang? I guess it needs to be washed before you can use it, but…"

"Sokka?" Aang asked. Sokka shook his head immediately. "Sokka…"

"Nothing! No! There's… t-there's a nice restaurant, two blocks down! You two head down there, and I'll meet you right there! Just…!"

Nothing he said could convince Aang to leave now, he knew. Guozhi appeared utterly clueless, even now, of the fact that the robe he was holding belonged to a woman… and that its colors didn't match Sokka's usual outfits. It wasn't something a stranger could know, but Guozhi made nothing of it, even while watching the Avatar and his brother-in-law acting rather strangely towards each other…

"Sokka," Aang repeated, for the third time, and his friend only whimpered and shook his head.

"Just go, please, I'll join your weird Council if I have to but just get out before…"

"Ugh, what's all this ruckus? So much shouting, and after the night we had, too… can't you deal with your friends quietly when you know others are sleeping?"

The color drained from Sokka's face at first, and then it rushed back at such force Aang could only wonder if he would grow dizzy over such violently varying blood flow. Yet it was difficult to focus on Sokka… when the obvious owner of the red, elegant robe stood at the doorway.

Sokka gritted his teeth and turned, slowly, powerless to stop to the guaranteed catastrophe that was about to take place…

Her hair was messily, newly tied up in a lazy ponytail, and her body, to his deep relief, wasn't fully exhibited for everyone to see… despite her clothes had been scattered across the living room, during yesterday's wild frenzy. It happened every time she visited… which had been just about every day in the past month. At one point, she had spent a whole week without leaving his apartment, and Sokka could only rejoice in that… but he didn't particularly plan for his best friend to see his secret girlfriend wearing nothing but one of Sokka's own shirts. It was long enough to cover her down to her thighs… but the message about what she was doing here was loud and clear. And the sight of her, just like that, sent so many impulsive urges rushing through Sokka's body and mind… but the rational mind was determined to overcome the irrational one, for now, and he only gazed at Azula pleadingly as she stood at the bedroom's threshold, arms folded over her chest.

"What?" she said, at Sokka's silent staring. "Oh, this? Yeah, I misplaced my clothes, as usual. I figured it was fine to borrow some of yours while I found out what all the shouting and noise was about…?"

"Y-you just…" Sokka said, before sighing and hanging his head. "You look so good I can't even stare at you anymore."

"Ah. Nice to know," Azula replied, smirking haughtily as the Avatar's hands moved up to his bald head.

"Y-you two have been…?! W-what is this, Sokka?!" Aang exclaimed. Sokka grunted, glaring at him.

"It's something new and really cool, is what it is!" he huffed, though to his embarrassment, Azula seemed to find his defense of their relationship rather amusing. "And what's so funny? I know we'd thought we'd keep this quiet for now, b-but…! Well, we can't anymore. It's not really my fault, by the way, I told you last night they'd arrive at ten because they said they would and now…!"

"So defensive and frantic, Sokka. One would think you're sleeping with the enemy… Oh, wait a minute," Azula said, tapping her chin playfully as Sokka groaned and covered his face with his hands. She still smirked in his direction afterwards, and Aang raised an eyebrow as he struggled to grapple with the reality they presented.

"S-so, wait, you two are…? Like, the two of you…?" Aang said, fear plain across his eyes.

"Oh, you didn't know Sokka has a girlfriend?" asked Guozhi, regaining everyone's attention without expecting to: Azula frowned as she stared at the clothes he was still holding onto.

"That's… mine," she said, cuttingly. Guozhi grinned awkwardly before handing it to her.

"Sorry about that. Though… wait a minute," said Guozhi, blinking blankly as he gazed at Azula, "You look Fire Nation. You must be Fire Nation!"

"Oh, must I?" Azula replied, smirking. Sokka sighed.

"This guy is… the new representative of the Earth Kingdom for Republic City's Council," he explained to Azula, who nodded.

"I see. And why is he tagging after the Avatar to check on his brother-in-law?" Azula asked.

"They apparently had some weird plans to rope me into their fancy council without telling me beforehand," Sokka grunted, his eyebrow twitching as Azula eyed him with interest.

"My, my. Is that so? Councilman Sokka… well, that sounds interesting," she smirked. Sokka huffed.

"I don't see what's interesting about it, myself," he growled. "And I guess they should be explaining, but… uh, I guess Aang's still processing things and he's not about to talk anytime soon."

"Y-you and Azula…" he said, shaking his head. "Oh, Katara's going to lose it. She's so going to lose it…"

"Which is kind of why we didn't tell everyone about it right away…?" Sokka said, with a significant and slightly threatening smile. Aang, however, was so lost in thought he couldn't seem to listen to him at all.

"Well, it's why you didn't want to tell everyone about it. Me? I told you watching our respective siblings have a nervous meltdown would be hilarious," Azula smirked, shrugging. "Goodness, come to think of it, I wouldn't want to miss her reaction: can we go to the Avatar's island today, so we can see the look on your sister's face once she sees us holding hands?"

"You suggested something a little more intense than holding hands the last time you wanted to torment her with our relationship…" Sokka said, smiling a little as Azula huffed.

"Well, fine, then. If that's how you want it, a make-out session it is…"

"Hey! Y-you're not… no! You can't just go to my place unannounced just to…!"

"Can't we, now?" Azula smirked. Sokka huffed.

"Considering you barged into mine, three hours before our agreed meeting time?" Sokka asked.

"Not to mention… you do want something from Sokka, don't you? One would think you shouldn't be denying other people's wishes when you want them to do something for you, should you?" Azula smirked. To her delight, Sokka actually snickered at Aang's increasing outrage.

"That's not the point!" Aang exclaimed. Sokka sighed and shook his head, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. "It's… this is a huge deal! It's the two of you! Sokka, it's Azula, the Fire Nation's Princess? You shouldn't be…!"

"Woah, that's who you were? I thought the name was familiar, I did…!" Guozhi said, gazing at Azula in surprise. "But I couldn't recognize you at all. See, I saw you once, back in Ba Sing Se, I think? When you took the city? But then you left so it was just one glimpse and you were really young – though so was I, but still…"

"Ah, you want confirmation of my identity?" Azula said, raising an eyebrow… and then a hand, where a sudden burst of blue fire startled and delighted Guozhi on equal measure.

"Ahaha! It is her! It's…! Ooooh, it's amazing! The Southern Water Tribe's Chief's son, and the Fire Lord's sister! It's a match for the ages! You two should be…!"

"What the…?! Guozhi, that's not what we're here to do, this isn't a matchmaking session…!"

"Of course it's not: the match's all made by now" Sokka grinned, glancing at Azula who wrinkled her nose suggestively in his direction. Sokka couldn't contain a laugh as the Princess stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you need me to leave, though? I was planning to, when we thought your meeting was at ten…"

"Eh, what for" Sokka smiled, shrugging. "I'd rather you're here. You can help me get rid of this job offer faster, right?"

"Rid of it?" Azula said, raising her eyebrows. "Say… why, exactly, do you want to get rid of it?"

"Because… I don't want to be a councilman?" Sokka said, looking at her with utter perplexity. "Why would I?"

"Ah, beyond having enough power to shape this city into whatever you wish to make it?" Azula said, before smirking and leaning close to whisper in his ear. "Because Councilman Sokka sounds… hot."

Sokka blinked blankly a couple of times, and yet again, his cheeks were flooded with color once Azula pulled away. She seemed utterly satisfied with his reaction, especially when he suddenly smiled at Aang.

"S-so… you really want to offer me that job?" he said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Uh… I don't know. I mean, sure? But…" Aang said, sighing and shaking his head. "Okay, I'm torn here. I don't know whether you two are the best match of all time or the worst one and… I'm not sure I want to know?"

"Oh, relax, Avatar. How is it any of your business what I do to your brother-in-law behind closed doors?" Azula asked, rolling her eyes.

"Not to mention…" said Guozhi, smiling brightly at the surprising couple… and then at Aang. "We're still short two more representatives, you know? Even if Sokka agrees. So…"

"Oh, you are?" Sokka asked. Guozhi grinned and nodded.

"Yeah. The Northern Water Tribe one, and the Fire Nation one," he said.

Sokka froze before glancing at the woman standing beside him: her grip over his arm had tightened, and now her eyes glowed with interest… perhaps even with greed. It was surely a quality many other people would consider terrifying, especially in the eyes of someone as dangerous as Azula… yet Sokka's heart leapt in his chest, and his lower regions tingled pleasantly for it. She wanted this… just as she had wanted him, many times, throughout the last month. And so far, he was as happy as could be with the result of giving Azula what she wanted… so would it be a good idea for her to serve as Councilwoman, representing the Fire Nation?

Aang, naturally, was frozen cold at Guozhi's suggestion. It seemed he had lost his breath altogether, as well as his chance to approve or disapprove of the sudden turn of events. Oh, this could be amazing… and it could be a nightmare, just the same. That those two were in a relationship was already plenty to process… but for Azula to become Councilwoman? Azula, of all people…?

"Who exactly is in charge of choosing members for this council?" Azula asked, smiling slowly.

"So far? Uh, well, Avatar Aang got started with the initiative, so he's the Air Nomad representative, for now," said Guozhi. "He asked King Kuei for a representative, and he suggested me! And then Aang thought Sokka would work well as representative for the Water Tribe, because his father surely would approve! And… I guess we would've asked Fire Lord Zuko for any advice on who to choose, right? But what for? His sister is already here! It's perfect!"

"P-perfect…?" Aang asked. Sokka cleared his throat.

"I'd think the current members of the council ought to vote regarding recruiting Princess Azula as the Fire Nation's representative," he announced, pompously. Azula snorted and smirked knowingly at him. "Which is, of course, the three of us. So! All in favor?"

Sokka and Guozhi raised their hands, prompting Azula to laugh as Aang stared at her in chagrin. To this moment, this whole morning had been utterly surreal… and he still had no idea if any of what was going on was a good idea. Yet Sokka seemed so sure of himself… he didn't seem to doubt Azula, in the least. One day, Aang guessed, he'd understand why that was… one day he'd figure out why Sokka seemed to trust the Princess who had given them chase and fought against them for so many years. It wouldn't be today, for sure, but there had to be more at play involved than mere lust, especially when they smiled at each other with such surprising affection…

"I guess that's settled, then," Sokka grinned. "We'll send a bird to Zuko! He'll be thrilled, I'm sure."

"Oh, so thrilled," Azula snickered, shaking her head.

"T-then… you're both taking the jobs?" Aang said. "I mean, well, I didn't exactly plan to offer you one, Azula, but… you want to do this? Are you sure? I mean, it's a lot of work! Diplomacy and solving petty problems and deciding on laws and such…? Are you sure it's what you want to do?"

The Princess released a breath, letting her gaze travel upwards to find Sokka's own, which was fixed upon her. He smiled encouragingly, and she could only reciprocate his grin wholeheartedly as her hand slipped down his forearm until her fingers intertwined with his. She glanced at Aang again, speaking with utmost confidence, her perennial proud smirk on her face:

"When do we start?"

#sokklasaturday #sokkla saturdays #sokkla #sokka #azula #I reckon these will be pretty lighthearted in general #so here we go!#this is M-rated-ish because of the implications but there's no smut here #(if you want smut just wait until next friday for 193 bahahahahaha...)

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the-descension-inks · 4 years

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Sojourn (Zutara Week 2020)

Summary: It's a strange fate that they have crafted for themselves; lines that don't quite meet, stars that circle each other, and stories that are almost written. (Or, glimpses into Zuko and Katara's lives, told in reverse, from the very end to the very beginning.)

[7/9] Affirm

He doesn’t mind it. He has had enough people looking at him over the last month with pity in their eyes – burned at thirteen, crowned at sixteen, widowed at thirty-one – and he can’t take it anymore.

A drop of sweat trickles down the side of his face, reminds him of how much he detests the sticky humidity of this city. His hair feels uncomfortable, and his crown has never felt heavier.

It’s funny, he thinks, how he misses the dry heat of Caldera City; misses the hot gusts of wind that lash at him without leaving behind a sheen of sweat, a constant reminder of its lurching discomfort.

Read the entire series here, and this chapter under the cut, or on AO3, or on FF.net.

[TRIGGER WARNING: Minor Depiction of Violence]

115 AG

Fire Lord Zuko returns to full-fledged political life a month after losing his wife.

(He’d heard the whispers, of course. Around the palace. In Republic City. Too soon to be coming back, they had said.)

The room in the City Hall feels too small today, the walls closing in, the prickly heat of Republic City crawling its way up Zuko’s skin while the Earth Kingdom representative – Saye, he thinks – goes on and on about how she believes bloodbending can be useful in the field of medicine.

Which, of course, is nothing but a ton of bullshit, but he perseveres through it all. For the sake of fucking diplomacy.

“You okay, buddy?” Sokka whispers to him, nudging his knee underneath the table.

He wonders if there’s anything on his face to suggest otherwise, but gives the other man a reassuring nod nevertheless.

Sokka returns the nod, gives him half a smile, and leaves him alone to his thoughts.

A drop of sweat trickles down the side of his face, reminds him of how much he detests the sticky humidity of this city. His hair feels uncomfortable, and his crown has never felt heavier.

The Earth Kingdom woman – Saye – stands up at long last, and Zuko thinks that’s the end of it. They can hear Katara next, and she’ll shut up everyone who thinks bloodbending should even be allowed to exist with her precise logic and powerful voice, and then they’ll outlaw it, and they’ll just... go home.

(Another heir to the throne left without a mother, the whispers had also said. Zuko had wondered if it had something to do with his godforsaken heritage. Paying for the heinous crimes of his forefathers, or something along those lines.)

“With the permission of the honorary members of the United Republic Council, I’d like to bring someone forth,” Saye tells them instead. “A healer, if you will. I believe her demonstrations will help us reach a better decision.”

There’s something odd about how she says it, the way her eyes glint as she narrows them at him, and only him. He wonders if it’s all in his head, if he is truly starting to lose his mind.

“No harm in wasting a little more time, right?” Sokka asks him under his breath with a roll of his eyes.

“Of course not,” he bites out, an inexplicable feeling of dread settling to the pit of his stomach.

He watches as Saye saunters out of the room, still trying to place a finger on what it is that’s filling him with panic. Sokka turns to him, doesn’t help his thoughts one bit. “There’s something fishy about that woman.”

“You too?”

Sokka frowns, and then groans as he lowers his head onto his hands. “I can’t wait for Katara to shut down all her claims though.” A laugh bubbles out of the man clad in blue. “I’m sure my sister’s temper is already off the roof by now. She’s been waiting for what… an hour now, in this heat?”

Despite everything, Zuko finds a smile ghosting across his lips, and then instantly shakes his head to do away it. His skin crawls again, and it has nothing to do with the heat this time.

He hates it, hates himself for still feeling this way. For feeling, at all.

Saye returns, a woman in tow, a woman dressed in Northern Water Tribe colors. Sokka’s eyes meet his, brows furrowed, confusion apparent.

“Now, if I may,” the Earth Kingdom representative begins.

She looks at him one more time, a maniacal glint in her eyes, and Zuko feels himself stiffen, fists clenching at his sides, body hyper-aware of the stench of sweat and brine.

And then— and then, it happens too fast, the motions a memory – nightmare – etched in his mind.

A knife comes out of nowhere, glistening in the harsh glare of the sunlight— Zuko lunges forward, a word on his lips; no? Nyh?

But it all happens too fast, far too out of control for him to do anything about it— Saye plunges the blade into herself, and all Zuko can see is red and only red. He thinks he hears voices behind him, feels Sokka’s arms pulling him back, but it’s all too familiar, all too similar, till it’s not.

The healer holds up a hand, cradles Saye’s almost limp body, and then begins to move her hands in a movement he recognizes.

Fuck.

Realization dawns upon him, but his heart still hammers in his chest. The blood stops gushing out, held back by an invisible force, as the healer continues to control it; bend it.

The room starts to spin around him, solid lines blurring into shapelessness. There’s a droning; a loud, distinctive, ugly noise that gives him a splitting headache.

This is sick, this is perverse; he wants to yell, but his throat is like sandpaper, and his voice is lost somewhere in between memory and reality.

(The Fire Lady stabbed to death in front of the Fire Lord, and all he did was watch, they had said. It hardly mattered that the words weren’t true. What mattered was that they had been poured into the crevices of reality.)

“Zuko? Zuko?”

Sokka still has an arm around him, and he realizes he is trembling, and that he would have collapsed a long time ago had it not been for that.

“You’ve seen enough,” Sokka sounds incredibly calm despite everything that has unfolded. “Go outside. The rest of us will put an end to this.”

He thinks he nods, but his eyes refuse to move from the wound that is being healed, skin patching up under the healer’s touch, leaving behind only a thin tapered line.

“Zuko, go.”

He nods again, the remnants of blood on Saye’s clothes catching his eye, no longer sickly red, but a dried out brown, and—

She opens her eyes, blinks, once, twice, and locks her eyes upon him. Zuko freezes, feels his hands going cold, sweat sticking to his entire body, and— she smiles.

Bile rises to his mouth, stomach twisting with disgust, skin tainted and repulsive, and he wants to rip it all off—

His feet move on automatic, tearing his body away from Sokka’s solid grasp, and he runs.

Away from the room, away from the blood, away from everything, and when a hand reaches out to catch him as he flies through the sickeningly pristine corridors of the City Hall, brown skin and blue robes and entirely too close, he shrugs it off and just keeps running.

Sokka and Katara find him in the empty room where he hides till his blood stops thrumming in his veins, and his heart stops pounding in his chest.

Sokka hangs back a foot away, but Katara crouches in front of him. He can feel her eyes on him, but does not have the courage to look up.

“It’s done,” Sokka says finally. “It’s banned. We don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Zuko wills himself to nod.

“Come on, let’s go,” Katara tells him.

It almost hurts to look at her, to see the way she looks at him, eyes helpless and teary. Her hands shift, and he’s suddenly afraid she’s going to reach out, but she pulls back before anything happens at all.

And that’s how he knows, that she knows too. She has heard them too.

(Threw himself in front of a lightning bolt to save a Water Tribe peasant, and he couldn’t even save his own wife. These were the worst of them all. The ones that kept him up at night.)

Sokka is awfully quiet, and Zuko wonders how much he has heard. He hates that he cares so much about what shadows hiss in the dark.

He hates there’s some truth hidden in all the lies.

Katara walks by his side, and Sokka walks a few steps ahead, and when his thoughts start to get too heavy one more time, she says, “It’s all talk, Zuko. There’s no truth in it.”

He wonders if she really believes that, but does not dare to ask, and lets the words die on his lips.

It’s not like it’s the first time.

A/N: Again, I have another chapter written for this prompt but figured I’d get this one out first.

@zutaraweek

#zutara #zuko #katara #zutara week #zutara week 2020 #atla #my writing #sojourn

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 16)

The waves lick gently at the side of their boat. It isn’t an awful vessel and it will serve its purpose. Azula never had any love for that ex-pirate bartender, but he has done them well with this ship. Its paint job is somewhat aged, off color in most places and it has a few dents from the recent storm. But the engine is not only intact and in perfect condition but it is also powerful. For both aesthetic and function should, the motor give out, it is adorned with a set of well maintained sails and--Azula rolls her eyes--a jolly roger flag.

She runs through a checklist in her head as she checks her suitcase for a third time. She has several changes of clothes and for a range of weather conditions, sweltering heat, a light rain, a heavy storm, and (though she has yet to feel a cold day) she has a shirt and pair of pants for that. She has a hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other hygiene essentials. She has a knife, matches, her guide books, compasses and other navigation tools should the GPS fail, a cellphone, and a survival kit just in case. If Sokka could go missing, so could they.

For leisure she has packed a healthy helping of books, notebooks and pencils. They are neatly tucked away with a scrapbook Ursa had made for her, the stuffed starfish that Sokka had messily handmade for her, and the clownfish that she had made for him. It was in much better condition when she’d handed it to him. It is now tattered in places and the colors have faded. It still smells like him, she doesn’t sleep very close to it because she doesn’t want her own scent to drive out Sokka’s. She will give it to him when she finds him.

She goes through the boat’s fridge and drawers, making sure that there is enough to last them at least a month. She makes sure that there is an emergency supply of canned goods and bottled waters.

The life jackets are intact and there are more than enough of them.

She checks to make sure certain things aren’t there. Holes, broken parts, and Ozai’s alcohol stash. She is grateful that he hasn’t tried to sneak even a bottle on. It will be easier for him to stay sober on a boat with no way to acquire a bottle.

Azula isn’t particularly worried about the journey, now that it is no longer an impulse journey. Mostly, the loose ends have all been tied. Some of them had tied themselves. Namely the resuming of classes--the school had taken on a considerable amount of damage during the hurricane, rendering it unsafe to open until later in the autumn. That would give her at least an extra month or two of time on the open ocean.

She and Zuko spent the rest of July helping Katara, Kya, and Hakoda to clear and repair what remained of the storm damage. That was the deal, Katara would have to put extra time into helping ready the restaurant for opening if she wanted to embark on their at sea adventure. Mostly this consisted of finding a good waitress to hire for while she was away.

And as she and Zuko began securing new shingles to the roof and wooden panels for the walls, construction workers put a tireless effort into rebuilding the rest of the boardwalk. By the end of July the boardwalk was finished and so was La-bsters. Not only does it have a new, bright red roof, but they’d taken the opportunity to give it a well overdue new paint job, white for the outside walls and dark blue for the doors and window shutters. The interior was painted to look like an ocean, mostly teal blue with a border of dark blue to represent waves. They fixed more white wood panels upon the walls to give it an extra decorative flare. From the ceiling they draped fishing nets and discarded buoy strands. On the walls they positioned ship wheels, oars, and old sailor’s logs.

It isn’t the same as it was, but it is lovely in its own regard. It is lovely in that they all shaped it together. If they find Sokka, he will be in for a surprise. If they don’t, she supposes that it is just one more change that she will have to get used to on her own.

Azula managed to stop by Mai’s jewelry shop too. Though it is more of a stall at the moment. Behind the stall, a new shop is in its early development stages; it is roped off with caution tape and is still just a framework outline of what it will become.

Katara had asked Mai to check on her parents for her every now and again. Mai had nodded and offered them parting gifts; shark tooth necklaces for she and Zuko and a wooden hibiscus for Katara. TyLee had given them particularly long and tight hugs and offered a few pointers on how to repair boat breakdowns as well as one of her family’s manuels.

The last time that Azula got to see the both of them before her departure was at the surf competition. She hadn’t managed to pull off a snap but she had gotten the opportunity for another tube ride. The only one of the day.

She likes to think that the luck of catching the perfect wave during the competition would carry over. She likes to think that her trophy is a sign of a greater victory to come. She had positioned the trophy on her dresser next to the pictures of she and her surf team and a cluster of decorative pearls and glass bubbles.

Azula comes back from her thoughts as emerges from the boat, it is nearly noon and the sun is inching towards its highest point. She shields her eyes with her hand and scans the beach for the others. “Hi, Azula.” Katara greets. She stands hand in hand with Zuko. Ozai lingers behind them.

“Is everything ready?” Ozai asks.

She nods, “though it can’t hurt to double check everything.” Granted, his inspection would make it a quadruple check.

“I trust you.” He gives her shoulder two firm pats before making his way to the ship deck.

“Are we ready to go?” Zuko asks.

“Just about.” Azula replies, there is still one thing left.

It takes him a few minutes but she finally sees a figure crossing the sand. She hops down from the boat and and greets Jet. “I’m glad that you are able to make it.”

He rubs the back of his head. “Eh, this summer was kind of boring anyways. I think that a high seas adventure will be funner than another one of Chan’s generic house parties...not that those are boring or anything…” He trails off.

“Yes, well this will be…” she isn’t sure what it will be, at least for him. For her she it will be closure and, perhaps, liberation.

Jet slides an arm around her and cups her cheek in the other hand. “It’ll be good to spend some quality time with you.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “You do realize that my father will be in the cabin over, right?”

“Right.” He confirms.

“We should depart before the mid-day tourist traffic arrives.” Ozai, not so patiently, calls. She takes Jet’s hand and leads him onto the boat. Ozai and Zuko raise the anchor as she and Katara help Jet settle in.

“Father says that you will be rooming with he and Zuzu so that he can ‘keep an eye on you’. But Katara and I are…” she opens a door to the adjoining room, “right over here.”

He gives her a quick thumbs up. “I think that I can deal with that.” She hears his suitcases thud on the floor.

“I am going to make myself comfortable.” Azula gestures to her own sleeping quarters.

.oOo.

She hasn’t had dinner on the deck of a ship in ages. It is rather pleasant, she had almost forgotten how much she enjoys it. It is that time of the evening when the temperature cools to the point of comfort. That time of evening when small gusts flutter the table cloth. It is no five star dinner, a plate of slightly overcooked shrimp and a side of mashed potatoes. But her father had made it and it has been so long since he has cooked for she and Zuko so she can ignore the burned spots.

It is rather easy to ignore them while peering over the railing and watching a family of dolphins leap from the water. She counts three of them, one adult and two babies.

“They’re so cute!” Katara exclaims. “I already have names for them.”

“Of course you do.” Zuko rolls his eyes.

“What are they?” Jet asks.

“That one is Zuko.” She points at the smallest one. “That one is Ozai.” Perhaps Azula has misgauged the direction of her finger, because she seems to be pointing at the other baby. “And the big one is Azula’s Ego.”

There is a gurgle and a cough as Zuko nearly chokes on his soda laughing. “Geez, at least wait until I’m done drinking.”

Azula fixes her with a dull expression. “You know that, that was funny.” Jet remarks. It kind of was but she won’t be admitting it.

The dolphins keep pace with their boat for a while before slipping back beneath the waves. She catches the faintest shimmer of black before they make it completely out of sight. She pops another bite of shrimp into her mouth and takes in the feeling of the ocean breeze on her cheeks. She fixes her sunglasses, not that she will be needing them much longer and rests her hand atop Jet’s.

“No romance at the dinner table.” Ozai grumbles. “That means the two of you.” He nods at Katara and Zuko.

She almost makes a joke about all of the times when she and Zuzu had to witness him peck mother on the cheek over plates of lobster. Decidedly, he isn’t ready for that sort of banter. She isn’t sure that he ever will be. Instead she whispers something to Jet.

Jet picks up his two remaining pieces of shrimp. He doesn’t do it quite as well as Sokka would have, but just like that they were hearing an enthralling tale of forbidden love between two shrimp. The story ended with the both of them getting eaten by a shark. Jet is the shark.

A sand shark.

Her sand shark?

Ozai looks towards the setting sun.

Azula and Jet steal a quick kiss.

Her father says, “I saw that, that was a test.”

They all have a good chuckle.

She thinks that it is the most normal. The most happy that she has felt in a very long time.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Ozai #Sokkla #Sokka #Zutara #Jetzula #Katara #Jet #Fanfiction

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jaxsteamblog · 6 years

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Thank you!

So, that last post kinda got popular huh? I’m still not in a good place to write “Blood & Seawater” but I’m feeling inspired, and I’d like to thank my veteran followers for sticking with me. To my new followers:

I am so, so sorry for the shit posting schedule.

Anyway, here’s (non-Steam canon) fluff:

The Favor

Zuko knew it was going to be awkward. Everyone had been caught off guard when Katara had made their relationship public. And while his ministers had been especially noisy, the Poles had been eerily quiet. Neither Arnook nor Hakoda had said anything, at all.

When the Earth Queen went into labor and Katara packed to go attend, he had an idea. While she kissed him goodbye and boarded the airship, he had already sent the note.

Sokka met him in Republic City, but they said nothing as he boarded. IT wasn’t until they were back in the air that Sokka approached him in the cockpit.

“He doesn’t hate you.” Sokka reassured Zuko for the hundredth time. “It’s just, not what he expected.”

“I need more than for him to not hate me.” Zuko replied. “I need him to like me.”

“Why?”

“Because Katara loves him.”

When they landed in the small, blossoming city in the South Pole, Zuko was shivering. It wasn’t from the cold - he had long since learned how to maintain his internal temperature through bending - but from unadulterated terror. He knew how to deal with a father who hated, he could not handle a father who disapproved.

Sokka disembarked first, embracing Hakoda and Malina before standing with them. Zuko walked down the ramp, focusing on his posture and most definitely looking stiff. As he approached the family, he held out the large box he carried, his arms locked.

“Chief Hakoda, I bring you a gift.” Zuko said, too loudly, too awkwardly. He had donned traditional South Pole furs and jackets, and had begun to sweat. Hakoda eyed both Fire Lord and box warily, but took the gift.

“Thank you Fire Lord, I-” Hakoda broke off his sentence as he lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a large metal lamp with a clear glass chimney. He glanced up at Zuko before speaking. “A lamp?”

“For family.” Zuko said softly.

“Fire Lord, it is lovely.” Malina said gently and Sokka smiled.

“Please, call me Zuko.”

Dinner was tense; while Malina and Sokka attempted to make light conversation, Hakoda ate in silence and didn’t look at Zuko. As the evening wore on, Zuko began to feel more and more lightheaded.

“Ah, Zuko, you’ve hardly touched your soup!” Malina sounded dismayed and Zuko felt himself blush.

“He’s probably not used to sea prunes.” Sokka remarked, taking a loud slurp from his spoon.

“Actually, Katara makes it a few times a month. It’s similar in taste to a berry my mother liked, so I enjoy it a lot.” Zuko said as he stirred the spoon through the lumps of sea prunes.

“So Katara cooks for you.” Hakoda said. Zuko strained to hear an inflection, anything to make the disparaging comment a question.

“She cooks for both of us. We take turns on nights we don’t want to, eat at, the palace.” Zuko’s voice faltered as Hakoda slowly turned his head to stare at him. Trying not to look away or retract from the table, Zuko cleared his throat and went on. “She likes how I make tonkatsu.”

“Why are you here Fire Lord?” Hakoda questioned.

“Sir, with your permission, I am here to learn how to carve a favor.” Zuko said. Malina gasped while Hakoda’s brows shot up.

“For Katara?” Hakoda asked.

“There could be no one else.” Zuko answered quietly.

“We’ll see.”

To prove worthy of a marriage, a man of the tribes must show that he can provide for his wife and family. Food, fire, and family were the three pillars of tribe life. For the first, Zuko was taken on a hunt. With Sokka, and his own basic knowledge of hunting weaponry, he was able to bring back a sealion with minimal bleeding.

For fire, he had no issues.

When it came to family, he was stuck. Family in the tribes is where you gained shelter. Family would feed you if you were too sick to hunt. Family would share their fire if you were too weak to gather fuel. Family kept you alive in the Poles.

Zuko had no family.

Zuko knelt in front of Hakoda, his head bowed.

“You offer my daughter nothing from a shared hearth. There is no lamp to warm her hands, to cook her food, or shelter her from the darkness.” Hakoda remarked sternly.

“She has everything I am.” Zuko replied, his head still lowered.

“Here is his hearth, husband.” The sound of something heavy hitting the floor made Zuko look up. Malina stood with her fists on her hips, a pile of paper slumping at her feet.

“Malina.” Hakoda started and Malina hissed air out from her teeth.

“Every letter his uncle has written to laud every skill and talent this young man has. His people are not our people, but he has a hearth.” She retorted and Zuko’s eyes misted with tears.

“Fine. But there is one more test.” Hakoda said and grunted as he stood up. “Get Sokka.”

Ice Dodging was a rite of passage for tribals, regardless of bending ability. Sokka, having already completed the rite, stood in as the parental figure for Zuko.

Two young girls stood giggling next to the boat they were to use. They were much younger than Zuko and he could not stop the wave of embarrassment.

It was a fairly easy course, as it was early enough in the season before the icebergs “migrated.” What made it difficult was that Hakoda had placed Zuko on the mainsail, under the instruction of one of the girls.

At one point, the girl called out a turn, and Zuko was able to spot right away why that was a bad idea. But the other girl had already started moving the jib, propelling the boat faster to make the turn. Closing his eyes and pushing out a breath, Zuko wrenched on the ropes.

And turned the boat the other way.

“What?!” The girl yelled, then stopped. “Ahh.” She saw her error and continued to call out directions, which Zuko easily followed. Still, when they got back to shore, Zuko was slow to walk over, instead fussing over the lines of rope.

Sokka clapped him on the shoulder, took the rope out of his hands, and threw it onto the deck.

“You did well buddy.” Sokka whispered before giving his shoulder one last slap and walking off.

“Zuko, you have shown your willingness to listen to the command of others, but to have the strength to act on your own knowledge to maintain the safety of your crew.” Hakoda said, addressing both him and the congregated people. “You have come here to win the support of our tribe, but you have shown that you will not stay silent and be led into failure. For this, you have earned the Mark of the Brave.”

Hakoda approached him and Zuko stayed quiet as the man applied the cuttlefish paint to his forehead.

He had the same mark as Katara.

“You are now an honorary member of this tribe. What will you do?” Hakoda asked, his eyes looking intently into Zuko’s.

“I come to petition the right to court your daughter, and to carve her a favor of my intention.” Zuko answered, his voice strong and clear. Gasps broke out among the group of onlookers, followed by furious whispers.

Hakoda only smiled.

In the North Pole, a man presented his betrothed with a carved necklace. Usually the medallion of the necklace held a particular symbol that represented the bridegroom’s family or one of his own accomplishments. More often than not, however, they were simple Water Tribe motifs.

In the South Pole, there was a scarcity in both time and resources so men did not carve necklaces. Instead, they carved little figures, or favors, that they would send to their intended. Sokka had done as much for Yue, though she had not known of it’s significance. Just as Hakoda had never known the real meaning of the necklace Kanna had given him for Kya.

Zuko had never wanted to replace Katara’s necklace. No matter how he tried to frame it, he could never forget the time he had held it hostage. It had hurt her and now the memory hurt him. He would always have her wear it, no matter what color robes she wore.

To carve a favor was usually a quick thing. Men would whittle whalebone while talking or even while eating. It was not a trivial action, but did allow for them to carve multiple favors in a short amount of time. There was more prestige to the gifts if they were a matched set, especially if they told a story.

Hakoda, for instance, had presented Kya with a set telling the story of Sedna, the Lady of the Sea.

Zuko had less time and even less skill than the other men. As Sokka told him of the mangled favor he had given Yue, Zuko only heard the barely muted laughter of the other men.

He had never held a blade of anything other than cutting or fighting. Whittling was something else entirely.

The night before they were set to leave, Zuko showed Hakoda what he had done. To his credit, the older man didn’t laugh.

“Zuko.” Malina started, her voice gentle. “Haven’t you seen my necklace?” Zuko looked at her throat and as Malina’s fingers drifted away, he saw the medallion. Wavy lines jerked awkwardly at the top and there was a sick looking frog underneath.

“It’s, beautiful?” Zuko attempted and Hakoda laughed.

“It was supposed to be the Northern Lights over a leaping salmon.” Hakoda said and as Zuko stared at the medallion, he too started to laugh.

“Now you see where I got it from.” Sokka added.

“Hey, carving is a lot worse than whittling.” Hakoda shot back.

“Katara will love it dear.” Malina said and patted the cave of Zuko’s hands as he hid the favor between them.

He certainly hoped so.

Zuko returned to the palace a day before Katara did. That meant a day of him panicking over his plan. He stayed up all night sorting through the gifts Hakoda had sent along; some symbolic while others were traditional gifts given before a marriage. With the items surrounding him as if he had exploded into shrapnel, Zuko leaned against the wall of his bedroom, turning the favor over in his hands.

It was awful. It looked nothing like he had intended and there were still sharp edges in places. Zuko remembered how Hakoda had hovered, repeating instructions on how to use the various small tools. He smiled now as he had laughed then, listening to how Hakoda faltered every time he remembered it was his daughter Zuko was whittling for.

He smiled wryly now as he had frowned then when Sokka brought over a group of young men to gawk at Zuko’s attempts.

He drifted and remembered eating sea prunes while Hakoda told stories of Sokka and Katara as little children.

“Zuko?” Zuko roused and sat up, blinking wearily in the watery pre-dawn light.

“Yuhs?” He slurred, unable to get his eyes to focus.

“Are we going to a wedding?” Katara asked. Panic returned with a vengeance and Zuko shot to his feet.

“NO.” He said, a little too loudly and a little too quickly.

“Because these look like wedding gifts.” Katara continued.

“I.” Zuko felt the mental list of his plan melt away. He deflated, knowing he had been defeated by his own awful sleeping habits.

“Katara, I went to see your father.” He admitted. Katara looked surprised for a moment, then concerned.

“And?” She prompted. Zuko took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

“Katara.” He started, but found that his brain had locked up.

“Yes?” Katara urged.

“Katara, please accept my favor.” Zuko said in a rush and thrust out his fist. As Katara held out her hands, he dropped the token and she picked it up gingerly in her fingers.

“An umbrella?” She inquired and Zuko groaned.

“It’s you. The day you stopped the rain.” He muttered. When Katara didn’t respond and only examined the token, Zuko stepped around to her side and traced the arc with his finger.

“That’s the rain.” He whispered. Katara smiled and then glanced at him briefly.

“I gathered.” She whispered back.

“I love you.” He whispered and she kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I love you as well only,” She frowned and looked at him fully. “Do you know what this means?”

“It means I want to marry you.”

“You do?”

“Zuko.”

“Do you accept my favor?”

“Oh Zuko.” Katara wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, properly. When she leaned back enough to look up at him, her smile was so sweet. However, as she began to speak, Zuko noticed a familiar glint in her eyes. “Don’t you know that a marriage only becomes official after the birth of a child?”

Zuko felt the blood drain from his face.

“You don’t suppose...” He said, looking off behind Katara at nothing.

“That my father thinks I’m pregnant and you rushed to the South Pole to make sure you could marry me before the baby comes?” She finished. Zuko felt his stomach sour as he nodded slowly.

“Sounds like you have a promise to keep Fire Lord.” Katara said and then chuckled as Zuko blanched.

#zutara #fluff #jax writes #drabble

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bulletproofteacup · 7 years

Text

Listen and let the rain fall

A gift fic for @somuttersthesea, a dear old blogger friend of mine.

Based upon a fanfic guessing game that I never finished. The prompts were: fall, listen, and pour. Also loosely related to another fic of mine, Bring Me the Horizon. Rather, it is a re-imagining of it. This is one of my favorite prompts, so I tend to visit it again and again.

Hopefully, this will be the first part of a three part series.

Many thanks to @theadamantdaughter for reading and giving her feedback :)

Please leave your love if you love it; that’s what keeps writers writing!

~~~~

Moored in the harbor, there’s nothing useful to do. It’s a slow day, a shore day, and most of her crew is on leave. There’s nothing to do. She’s already plotted their next course, arranged for their cargo, and seen to necessary repairs. Suki is out replenishing supplies, leaving Katara to lay about in her cabin.

It’s raining outside; just a gentle sprinkle that taps at her windows. The boat creaks, cradling her in sturdy wooden arms. She leaves her bed, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Her breath escapes in wisps of steam; when she was a child, she would huff and puff and pretend to be a fire-breathing dragon. Her mother would laugh and her father would declare himself an even greater dragon and chase her back into their hut, where it was warm, safe, and welcoming. Katara peers out the stern windows, where the sky is gray and cloudy.

Winter is coming, she realizes.

Maybe a year ago, she would have picked up and sailed to warmer waters. Anything in order to avoid the familiar chill that brought memories best forgotten. Today, however, she rubs her belly and knows she cannot be seen in Fire Nation waters. Circumstances have made it impossible and now the warmth brings memories, fresher and stronger than the ones from her childhood, that she wishes to forget. She wants to forget the man she left behind. She never wants to see him again, but she will.

When the baby is born, she’ll see his face in their child, every single day for the rest of her life.

~~~

Suki returns at noon from her expedition and shortly thereafter, brings supper to Katara. It is hardly the duty of first mate to serve food, but Suki does it anyway. She brings food for two; a excuse for company and perhaps, also an excuse to check up on her.

“I’m fine,” Katara tells her, before she has a chance to ask, “Nothing is wrong with me.”

But Suki doesn’t have to say anything: Katara can tell that her friend has something to say and she tells her to spit it out.

Suki sets the stew down, then the fresh fruit. She weighs her words, tucks a lock of red-brown hair behind her ear and then sits at the table. “You didn’t offer and we didn’t ask,” she says finally, “But that baby is going to be here in a few months and we’re beginning to wonder what this is going to mean for you. For the baby. For the crew.”

Katara scowls. She hasn’t been able to hide the baby under her clothes for a long time now, but the silence from the crew has let her pretend a little while longer. But even she knows that it must be faced eventually. The secrets she wants to keep forever must come out because at the end of this journey, she’s going to be holding a baby in her arms and there’s nothing that will change that.

But it’s hard to come clean.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she tells Suki.

Her first mate shrugs a little, then turns to uncover a loaf of bread from beneath a stack of maps. She rips off a chunk and dips it into her soup.

“They’re worried for you.” she offers, with a sidelong glace.

Its meant to remind Katara that she’s acting like a child and it works a little too well.

At the window, she sighs.

Her crew is not just crew; they’re family. Many, many years ago, when she was barely fourteen years old and running away from an arranged marriage, the captain of this boat had taken her in. The crew had embraced her and welcomed her. Now, as the captain of the vessel and the leader of their family, Katara owes them an explanation for many things, the baby being the least of them. They deserve to know how her own personal turmoil will affect them.

However, Katara doesn’t say this. Instead, she takes a seat and begins to eat. Over lunch, they discuss trade numbers and laugh about Ty-Lee’s latest beau (he’s trying to persuade her to give up the ocean, but the only thing Lee loves more than a good jawline is the most beautiful and pure friendship between life-long female friends).

Before they finish, Suki convinces her to take a walk the following day. Katara agrees easily; she needs to stretch her legs and begin purchasing the things a baby will need. After all, they’re leaving in two days for Ba Sing Se and even a waterbender can get restless on the great ocean blue. But neither land nor sea will cure the restlessness plaguing her. She has sailed away from her problems for so many years, but this journey will be her last for some time.

Suki will take over as captain and Katara will remain in Ba Sing Se until the baby is born and her strength returns.

In a few weeks, she won’t have a boat waiting in the harbor, ready to sail away from her demons, nightmares, and problems. For the first time since she was fourteen, Katara will have to face it all head on.

She decides to remain in her cabin that evening, forgoing dinner and as a result, any company as well. Instead, she spends a long time staring out the tiny round starboard windows. When this cabin became hers–it’s a stateroom, really–she loved the windows most of all. The ones on the stern end are large and great, but the handful of little starboard and port portholes have always offered little tastes of the world whenever she can’t stomach the glaring, all encompassing view from the stern. But even now, she cannot stomach the world outside her cabin.

It is so hard to hate him at night, when the longing and loneliness twist around her heart. It’s hard to be angry when she misses the warmth of his skin against her, wishes she did not have to face parenthood alone.

But out there, beyond the storm and rain and screaming wind, her baby’s father lives and breathes without her. Out there, in the world, she cannot be with him, will not be with him.

Katara tosses and turns until exhaustion takes her from her worries. She dreams of golden eyes and the sound of a man’s laughter. Just before she wakes, she can hear the precious, screeching laughter of a little girl.

By the following afternoon, the rain has stopped, but the air is still brisk and cool. The dirt roads are muddy, but the smell of fresh earth after rain is almost as lovely as the smell of salty ocean air. It makes Katara feel very much alive. She can’t help smiling and when the sun peaks out from behind a cloud, the baby wriggles and warms her up like a good winter fire.

This is how she knows that her child will bend fire.

It hurts her heart, in a way, but she doesn’t think about this. Instead, Katara focuses on the moment. The sun on her face, the warmth in her belly, Suki’s arm in her own, and the smell of rain and earth and life. There is happiness in this and that is where she keeps her heart and thoughts.

They visit a market near the port. Suki buys a few trinkets and Katara mills over boots and blankets and baby toys. She pauses over a pink blanket, embroidered with little flamingo-doves. The top part is thick, sure to keep a child warm on a cold winter night, and the bottom is the softest fleece she has ever touched. There are ways to check if the baby will be a girl or boy; for a master waterbender, it’s as easy as breathing. But Katara wants a good surprise for once in her life, so she chooses two blankets. The price is exorbitant, but when she leaves with a blanket in pink and another in blue, she does so with a bit of joy in her heart. She tries not to think about how each color represents the nations she is caught between; the nations her child will be caught between as well.

It scares her, to know that her baby will be twice royal. It makes her think of her own childhood, of the way her mother’s death twisted her father until all he cared for was the cold duty and sacrifice of their culture. She was expected to sacrifice her own happiness, her own dreams and marry Yue’s father after her cousins untimely death. She was supposed to have children with a man three times her age and her father expected her to rejoice at the honor.

She thinks of Lee--of Zuko, who lied about who he was. She knows why and she understands why--duty is a frightening thing to bend your life to. He wanted to be loved for who he was, but Katara had spent half of her life trying to escape from the machinations of royalty. It frightens her to know that if he ever finds the baby, her precious child will be thrown into the viper-scorpion pit that created Azulon and Ozai and the war that took her mother’s life and her father’s love when she was little more than child herself.

Suki, having reclaimed Katara’s arm, asks her whats wrong. Katara looks away, summons a faint smile, and then complains about the price of the beautiful blankets. The moment passes, but only because her first mate lets it escape. For that, she is grateful, but it is only as they near the ship again that Katara feels the tension growing in Suki. It is her turn to ask what bothers her friend.

They’ve known each other for years, long enough to fight together, laugh together, cry together, bleed together, and share a bond closer than blood. She knows when something is bothering her first mate.

“It’s nothing,” Suki lies poorly, “I’m just thinking of the journey ahead.”

But Katara can see the concern in her companion’s blue eyes, read the hesitation in her brow, feel the tension tightening in her body as they walk side by side. She looks like she’s going into battle.

The waterbender stops where she is, right in the middle of the road.

“Suki,” she says, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

They stare at each other; merchants and sailors and Earth Kingdom soldiers bustle around them. There is a sinking feeling in her heart, a premonition of something to come. The sex of her child is not the only surprise lingering on the horizon.

Suki starts to speak, then stops. Then she rushes to her friend and takes her hands. “I know you’re set on this,” she says, “And I know we can do it. I know we can all raise your child together–we can be a family and make it work.”

“But what?” Katara prompts.

“But you’re not meant for this, Tara!” Suki explodes, “You were so happy when you met Zuko–you’re meant to have a big family and a home and a man that truly loves you–you don’t have to throw it away just because he’s not the tea merchant you thought he was!”

Something dawns on her.

“What have you done?” she demands, “Suki, what did you do?!”

Her friend’s proud brow sags, she looks away. “I’m sorry.”

Katara takes her shoulders, shakes her like a rag-doll. “What did you do, Suki?!”

Her first mate only raises her arm and points.

In the distance lays their ship. There is a Fire Nation cruiser moored beside it. It hadn’t been there when they’d left.

Katara whirls on her friend. “Why would you do this to me?!” she cries, “You know why I ran away!”

There are tears blurring her vision; she can’t see the face Suki makes, only hears the reply. “I thought it was the right thing! You aren’t meant to be alone!”

The place where her heart is, the tender scarred organ that she’s protected for the sake of her child, turns from flesh to stone and again to bitter, angry flames. “What I’m meant for,” Katara says, jaw set, eyes turning stony with finality, “is none of your concern.”

Then she turns away and marches toward her ship.

Katara knows she has a temper. She knows that it has gotten the better of her many times in her life. It’s what led her afoul of pirates when she was a young girl escaping from the North Pole and it what’s about to lead her afoul of the Fire Lord himself. But there’s no stopping her. She’s angry, she’s upset, and if she doesn’t outright kill her child’s father, she’s going to frighten him senseless first.

Katara doesn’t walk up the gangplank. She pulls the ocean up with her, stepping delicately into it’s grasp and letting it soak through her clothes. It’s cold and salty, but it gives her strength and reminds her that there is ice in her veins, searing cold in her breath, and Southern strength in her heart.

When she steps onto the deck, the ocean crashes onto the wood and metal and men and women. She doesn’t see him at first; he’s at the other side of the vessel, clutching the railway. She pulls the seawater out of clothes with a sharp flick and brushes salt of her coat, staring him down.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” she spits, as venomous as an eel-snake, “I’d hoped never to see you again.”

He’s isn’t dressed the way she remembers; Lee had always worn muted grays and greens beneath his apron, always kept his hair tied back with a strip of ragged cotton. This man wears red and gold and the mark of the Fire Lord in his crisp top knot. Lee was kind and awkward; this man stares at her as coldly as she stares at him. Everything about Fire Lord Zuko reminds Katara that Lee was a lie all along and she’d been a fool to fall for it.

Until his eyes drop to her stomach and his cool expression is replaced with shock. Utter, absolute shock.

“You’re pregnant!” he sputters.

And then he does the most un-Fire Lord like thing she can expect; Zuko faints.

#writing #atla #zutara #zuko #katara

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slntsrn · 4 years

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“The waves whisper to me, calling me to their dark depths .”

GENERAL;

NAME: Elysia ‘Eli’ Amalie Vand AGE: 23 years BIRTHDATE: March 17th, 1997, Pisces MBTI: INFJ, Advocate SPECIES: Mutant, parents unknown HEIGHT: 5 ′ 7 ″, 10 ′ length with tail HAIR COLOR: Light brown EYE COLOR: Blue GENDER : Cisgendered Female SEXUALITY: Demisexual OCCUPATION: Freelance artist FAMILY: Parents ( deceased , unknown), Louis Vand, paternal uncle ( deceased ) INSPOP: Katara / Hama, Siren (tv show), H2O (tv show)

MUTATION;

> other than being proficient with an easel and paint brush, elysia is essentially a mutant mermaid. with the help of gills that can lay flat against her neck, almost invisible to the untrained eye, she can breathe underwater as well as hold it for upwards of twenty-five minutes without the help of her gills. her skin and body start to dry if she's ever without water for too long - usually drinking water will help to alleviate any dehydration, but direct sunlight without cooling options can be catastrophic for her.

> if ever in a body of water - any size, from the bathtub to the ocean - her physical mutations are triggered: webbed hands, scaly / rough skin, more pronounced gills and a nictitating membrane. her tail didn't come until later in life when her congenital mutism was healed, and it forms only when she is entirely submerged. she's unable to shift, though, on command, as only water can provoke her mutation to that degree.

> elysia has the ability to control water, in any form - liquid, gas, solid, as well as manipulate the molecules to change from one state to another at will. she is also able to pull water from the air around her if necessary. after a traumatic experience, elysia can pull water from living things such as plants and people, and can manipulate them physically, like puppets, with the water in their blood.

HEADCANONS;

> elysia has a blue veiltail goldfish named bubbles who she's had for about five years. he was a birthday gift from her uncle and is one of her closest and truest friends.

> because she was only a baby when her parents died, the only memories she has of them are from photo albums that her uncle saved for her.

> elysia has a skin brand, given to her by the extended family who run their cartel - it's of two letters, XG, their symbol to represent the x-gene, making her easier to find out within their operation. it's easy to hide beneath her hair, but the scar remains.

PERSONALITY;

[optimistic] : no matter the situation, even if it is dire, elysia still holds on to the hope that the tides would turn for the better. she looks for the best in everyone and everything, so much so that it tends to turn around and bite her when she's proven wrong. she's let down far too often, but she doesn't learn.

[creative] : aside from her talent in the fine arts, elysia excels at problem solving. her hold onto hope helps her to look through many viable routes to find the best one and get the best results, depending on the situation. she looks through all options, sometimes even suggesting something so far-fetched that it shouldn't work - but she makes it work somehow.

[capricious] : elysia's emotions have a tendency to ebb and flow like the tide. she can go from a big smile to absolute tears without much prompting. sensitive has always been used to describe her, but it's not something she can help, although she tries her best to keep her emotions in check. her bursts are likely to get her in trouble.

[destructive] : if her mood is down, elysia will lash out at others and bury herself deeper into the emotional hole that she dug herself into. she won't just bring herself down, but she'll try to bring others down with her, especially if she feels she was wronged in some way. but mostly she focuses on herself, going as far as to harm her person (not eating, not sleeping, etc.) or her own property.

BIOGRAPHY;

> born mute in maryland, march 1997 > adopted as an infant by uncle louis; last living relative > 2010 joined the high school swim team > 2012 x-gene activated about 15 years of age, quit the swim team > she and her uncle moved to star city, california in 2017 > a year later her uncle passed due an injury sustained by 'terrorist' activity on the sc bridge > moved to the mutant district for safety and support a few months after > supposed family members on her father's side contact her late 2019 > november 2019, elysia is abducted by said family members > they brand her, induct her into their cartel, and use her for their needs, mostly moving product (weaponry and illegal substances) > during her imprisonment, elysia learns about her mutant abilities further > early 2020, she kills a guard to break free and saves the other mutant hostages > the rest of her 'family' and members of the cartel are slain and the mutants escape > elysia takes the hostages back to california and leads them to the mutant district for safety, october 2020

#starcintro #bio #starcinspo

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fantastic-nonsense · 6 years

Text

Bits and Pieces of Various WIPs

So I decided to get up off my butt and actually be productive for once. Unfortunately, this means working on my thesis and two research papers and not all of my sad, neglected WIPs, but as a treat, I’ll share some bits and pieces from a couple of them will all of y’all:

So…from my ‘East of the Sun and West of the Moon’ Miraclous Ladybug AU:

“Are you afraid?” He asks her, his green eyes solidly staring at her. He searches her frame for any reservation, for a hint of discomfort or fear.

She was not.

She smiles gently and laughs. “I am not afraid. Not of you,” she says.

It is enough for now.

……

Her powers always stack the cards in her favor. She works in a permanent best-case scenario, and tonight she had found out that even in the best-case scenario, she still would have lost her cat. And that is a devastating concept.

My Post-Prince Caspian ‘Problem of Susan’ fic (mostly movieverse, heavily dabbing in bookverse):

Susan observes. Many think Edmund as the observant one (and he is), but she is the one who truly watches. She watches from the shadows as girls laugh and flirt and dance, as they create a persona for themselves cloaked in crimson lipstick and too-short skirts that somehow makes them looking alluring and wanted. At first she scorns them, remembering very well that it was her beauty that was famed, her grace and gentleness that was revered in seven lands and all the islands. She sticks her nose up at these desperate girls playing pretend, at their pitiful attempts to be grown up and to impress boys who aren’t yet men.

She does not realize then that she will soon join their ranks.

Susan watches quietly as girls become women in the eyes of society by stepping into this world, this world of make-up and flirtations and materialness. She resents them. She remembers how it feels to be an adult, a true adult, and she sits here and watches as these girls and their overwhelming fakeness are treated as adults and she is treated as a child. She resents that they can so easily step into their assigned roles and play them to perfection where she is stuck straddling two worlds. She resents the fact that throwing on a bit of makeup and parading around like a doll is all girls need to do in this world to be considered women.

She suddenly decides one day that she is tired of it. She’s tired of being cast aside and treated like a child. She’s tired of people not recognizing her for the Queen she is. She wants to be recognized. She wants to command attention like she once did, to be admired from afar and talked of incessantly. She wants the people around her to see her.

……

But that is in the past, and Susan is so firmly entrenched in the here and now that she refuses to think about the past, for Narnia is Before and England is her Now and After. She needs to learn to live here and not dwell on what can no longer be. No…she would be beautiful here, respected here, not beautiful in some imaginary land that she could no longer rule.

My ‘Teen Titans ‘Apprentice arc’ as it might have happened in Young Justice+Bonus Batfamily’ fic:

“What’re you doing, Jay?” Wally asked, watching him call up a screen on his own holographic computer.

“Calling for backup.”

“You mean…”

“Yeah.”

“Whoa, whoa. Hold up,” Artemis said, cutting in front of Wally to look at the screen. “Who’re you calling? Batman’s off-planet.”

“I’m not calling Batman.” Her next question was interrupted by a cheerful voice.

“Red Robin to Blue Jay. What’s going on, Jay?”

……..

“Shiva’s a liar,” Jason muttered, glaring at nothing.

“Wait, back up!” Wally shouted. “Shiva? As in ‘Lady Shiva’, one of the most deadly assassins on earth?”

“Do you know any other Shivas?” Jason shot back, frustrated. He didn’t have time to deal with this right now, not when his brother was on the line.

LOK “Control”: “Asami struggles to reassert control over her life. Sometimes she is successful; other times, she is less so. Or: Asami makes choices, has choices made for her, and has no choice at all, in the end. A story in ten parts.” Otherwise known as my ‘Justice for Asami Sato’ fic that I started working on in 2014 and haven't touched since:

She is not jealous. She is not.

……

She doesn’t allow herself to think that she had stayed with Mako because he represented stability and dependability. She doesn’t allow herself to think that she had not loved him as much as she thought she had. She doesn’t allow herself to forgive Korra (yet) for stealing her boyfriend away—and with him, the one stable thing she was allowed to keep after her father’s betrayal.

She shakes her head and sits quietly against the wall in her bedroom, the tears drifting softly down her cheeks. It isn’t fair, she thinks. The only thing she has ever wanted, and it is something money cannot buy. Money cannot buy her stability or happiness. It can alleviate many of the other problems she faces, but all the yuans in the world cannot buy back a life with a father who loved her and hadn’t tried to kill her, a life where her life was dependable and she was gloriously in control of her own destiny.

…….

She feels presumptuous and out-of-line, asking Katara (the Katara) to teach her how to heal, but Asami is tired of staying while her friends go where she can’t follow and sitting by the sidelines. Asami may not be able to bend, but she can create and she can mend, and that is enough (for now).

…….

Asami is not happy with her form. She realizes this the day that she brings down two assassins that managed to corner her in the stairwell at Future Industries but nearly dies in the process. She understands she can defend herself better than the vast majority of the nonbenders in the city, but she shakes with frustration, thinking that it is not enough. It will never be enough. Her years of self-defense training are useful and helpful, but are not what she actually needs. She cannot have the control she so desperately desires if she continues fighting like a non-bender. She needs to think like a bender.

“Teach me to fight,” she demands of Korra one afternoon. Korra blinks and tilts her head, but seems to recognize something about the way Asami is pleading and simply nods. “Okay.”

Asami’s afternoons become filled with combat sessions that feel more like dance lessons, Korra teaching her to spar the way her father once taught her how to spin and sway across the marble floors. She learns how to flow like water and stay firm like the earth, taking her new knowledge and adapting it to mix with her already present skills. It is hard, grueling work, but it is worth every second Asami spends drenched in sweat or lying on the ground, bruises coloring her body. She will not become her mother, lying lifelessly on the floor in a tattered dress.

.............

She doesn’t know what hurts the most: the fact that the boy she used to love no longer loves her, the fact that the girl she currently loves is oblivious to her affections, or the fact that they both seem too tangled up in each other to notice her existence.

#miraculous ladybug #lok #asami sato #narnia #young justice #personal #my writing #also known as 'fics i'll probably never finish but desperately want to someday'#wow I'm re-reading 'Control' and realizing that I was *deeply* hurting when I wrote the majority of what's there #I mean in theory I knew that I wrote it in the depths of the finale fallout drama and that I was spending an unhealthy amount of time #fighting idiots on the internet #but like...wow

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kdinthecity · 7 years

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Fantasy Part II

This is for Zutara Smut Week, “Virginity.” Not so much because it kinda mentions it in the story, but more so because I just lost mine, in the literary sense. This is probably the most explicit thing I’ve ever written. It’s a little suggestive after the cutline, but the real deal is toward the end. If it’s no good, then just remember, it’s my first time! And that’s reality, folks!

There were no boys close to her age in her tribe growing up except for her brother, so Katara didn’t think about dating or marriage that much. It was hard to imagine the future with the war going on, but Katara knew that if she were to find a husband someday, he’d have to come from somewhere else. The Northern Water Tribe, most likely, since she’d probably have to go there anyway to learn waterbending. Gran Gran hinted that their sister tribe may not see fit to train her, though, while stating outright that they would most certainly find her a husband.

That wasn’t a bad thing… or was it?

Gran Gran seemed to think so. With limited knowledge and zero experience, Katara had no idea what to think. Sokka was annoying and stinky and sexist. She could never marry anyone like that. Shouldn’t she find another waterbender—to increase the likelihood of passing on the genes to their children? But Katara didn’t even know all the specifics on how babies were made, not really.

It was her friend, Nutha, who let her in on some fascinating, yet somewhat disturbing details. Katara wouldn’t realize until much later just exactly how Nutha knew so much.

“Does it hurt?”

“At first. It burns. But we’re surrounded by ice, Katara. So relief is readily available.”

“But it’ll feel good eventually?”

“Yeah. There are places, spots to rub that feel really good. You can find them yourself, actually.”

“R-r-really?”

“Yeah, for me it helps to think about something… sexy. Like a really hot guy is rubbing me there instead. You should try it sometime.”

So, Katara developed her fantasy. She’s in an igloo, so there’s plenty of snow and ice for “relief.” And the “really hot guy” is some waterbender from the North, but all she can see is his blue parka as she imagines intense blue eyes adoring her and his fingers furiously working her. Privacy was hard to come by in her small village, though, so she only managed to find the right time and place to experiment with this vision once before her whole world was turned upside down.

True, an orgasm could do that, too—upend someone to where nothing makes sense, yet the end goal feels so clear, so certain—like destiny. Everything crashes while building at the same time. It burns and it freezes.

Meeting Aang felt like destiny to Katara. But she wasn’t always so certain with him. And one day, everything they’d built together came crashing down.

With Zuko, though, she burned.

But he’s not a waterbender. Not even Water Tribe. It doesn’t make sense.

That thought remained frozen in her mind, along with a fantasy, long since forgotten.

Several years later, she brought Zuko back to her homeland for his second visit there. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge his first. Katara often wondered if she went back to her innocent, virgin, Fire Nation-hating self that day, would she even believe the words she might say? That she and Zuko had been dating for over a year, and that they’d fucked on Ember Island beaches, near the turtle duck pond in the palace gardens, on red silk sheets in royal chambers, and countless times on the Fire Lord’s desk.

But never in the South Pole.

And as circumstances would have it on this particular trip, they wouldn’t get to, either.

Zuko knew about the igloo fantasy by now, and Katara saw the hungry way he looked at them during their stay. She also shared the depth of his disappointment when they were forced to sleep apart, and his accommodations were none other than the iconic ice hut, of course.

So when the opportunity presented itself sometime later on Kyoshi Island, Katara created their own igloo in a secluded cove with the sea at her command. Its sole purpose was immediately known when smoldering golden eyes caught hers and then slowly raked across her body.

His are not blue, though. Like in my fantasy.

Zuko’s clothes weren’t blue, either, and there was sand instead of snow. And he wasn’t even her husband! Everything was terribly wrong about this picture, and he could sense it, too… and so, because he’s Zuko, he did the craziest thing.

He proposed.

Then the igloo melted with a wave of her hand, and her doubts washed away with it. She was ready to give herself fully to this man—her fiancé—and this new fantasy they were creating together.

The color of the clothes and even the nations they represented didn’t matter once they were stripped from sweating bodies and cast to the ground. Zuko’s half-lidded gaze continued to scale the length of her before his fingers danced across bronze bare skin. She reached toward him to return the gesture, but in a sudden and swift motion, he cupped her breast with one hand and grabbed her ass with the other while claiming her lips with a searing kiss. She pressed herself into him, trapping his erection between them and eliciting a needy moan from his mouth into hers.

That was all it took for him to lower them to the ground and push her back into the sand. She opened herself to him, so ready and wanting, but he paused to look at her position and frowned. She knew he was thinking of a certain Ember Island encounter and much frustration involving the sand.

She laughed out loud. All this time she couldn’t imagine anything worse than fucking in the freezing cold snow.

He quirked a brow at her, and then almost without warning, he encircled her waist with a fiery grip and flipped her over so that she was on her hands and knees. One of his hands slipped down between her legs and found that spot she’d learned about so many years ago, but only he knew how to manipulate until she melted.

While he teased her clit with practiced fingers, his other arm snaked around her midsection to pinch a pert nipple. She hadn’t exactly been thrilled about the new position since she liked to look at him and well, touch him, too, but the attention he lavished in all the right places had earned him forgiveness for the time being.

Besides, his throbbing cock pressed into the cleft of her ass served as the ultimate arousal. She knew what was coming, but she didn’t know when. Patience was never the young Fire Lord’s virtue, though, so after a soft nibble or two on her shoulder, he pushed himself inside her.

He started slowly as if testing different angles. When he hit just the right spot, Katara found herself fisting the sand for some sort of anchor. She clinched around him and let out a half-moan, half-whimper. It was signal enough for him to quicken his thrusts, gripping her hips to guide him as he pulled out and slammed back in, hard and fast.

So. Fucking. Good. Although at this pace, he probably won’t last long.

Except that he did. Katara’s knees started to tremble as she felt her climax rising. She leaned over to press her forehead into her folded arms, and just that subtle movement provided a new sensation that sent her over the edge. There was sand in her hair and sand in her mouth, but Tui and La be damned, she didn’t care. She’d find a way to build igloos out of sand if it meant she could ride this wave forever.

And with Zuko, it felt like forever. Like destiny.

“FUCK. Yes, Zuko! YES!” she cursed.

His release followed soon after along with his own proclamation.

“Katara… I love you.”

And he said it more like a prayer.

This is a continuation of this post, called Fantasy.

It also directly correlates with Chapter 27, “Blue Hunt,” in a multi-chapter fic of mine, The Dragon and the Wolf.

Which also happens to be part of an extensive universe, so there is much backstory to the Zutara relationship and Zuko’s marriage proposal that is not exactly fleshed out here. Just in case you thought that was random...

#zutara smut week #zutara smut week 2017 #zk smut week #zk smut week 2017 #zutara

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grumpyzutara · 7 years

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Colors – M

This is my interpretation of period yakuza meets Romeo and Juliet meets no fact checking meets this fanart. M is for sexual content and graphic violence.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the two lanterns, but they could see each other well enough. They knew the other like the back of their hands. Plus, no one could know who was inside the room and the thin paper walls hid nothing in full light.

Katara was sitting between his legs with her body bent over in a stretch. His hands, worn and rough at the tips, traced the colored lines on her back. The swirls of black and blue that danced along her spine. He had a matching tattoo on his back in shades of red. Together, they had to fight the adversity of being from rival families that wished the other would die off. The koi on their backs represented rising above that, as well as connect them.

Some days, Zuko just wanted to rip off her yukata and have her as soon as they were secluded. Others, he wanted to kiss each scale of the koi on her back, taking his time. Today was one of their quiet nights. They had already been intimate hours ago and were relaxing in the room, trying to keep silent. They probably only had another hour together before he had to sneak back out as the sun rose.

Their tattoo artist was skilled. As Zuko traced each scale he could see in the dim light that each was unique in their shading. It wasn't easy finding an artist who would tattoo them both and keep it a secret. But it was worth the pain. She was worth the secrecy.

They had started their relationship more as hate fucking and to get back at the pressures of their family. But one thing led to another and they fell in love. They tried to protect the other even if it meant more pressure on themselves. So that left them in secrecy. Zuko would sneak into her family's estate and they would run off somewhere. On the off chance that they saw each other in public, they knew they had to ignore the other, maybe even sneer in their direction.

That is until they could both slip away into a dark alley. They wouldn't do much, just a kiss hello and how are you today. Zuko came by almost every other night. They wouldn't be intimate every night. Some they just sat and talked. Lately, they had been discussing how to run away or announce their relationship.

His hands tickled their way to her sides, following the waves of blue-green ocean. "Do you think you have it in you for one more go?" He whispered.

Katara sat up from her stretch and let her hands run up his bare legs to his thighs. They were both still naked. "Anything in particular?" She whispered back. Zuko leaned back, watching as the colors on her back as she moved, making the fish look like it was about to jump off her skin.

"Just the way you are right now." Zuko gripped her waist and helped her reposition her legs so she could straddle his lap and face away. Katara tried to keep her long dark brown hair offer her back but a few pieces slipped and tickled his chest. Not wanting to get it tangled he tossed it over her shoulder. He let his hand slowly fall down her back, still entranced by the color of her skin. As he slipped in, Katara had to bite her lip to keep from moaning too loudly. "Perfect," he mumbled.

Their love was quiet, but moving, leaving them silently gasping for air until they both collapsed on the palate. They were facing each other, hands running over the valleys of the other's face. Zuko was a hardened warrior with the scar to show for it. Katara had blue eyes that pierced into his soul.

But they were on borrowed time.

Just as they had been silent, so were the others in the hallway as they surrounded their room. The paper doors slammed open to reveal her family, swords drawn. Katara quickly grabbed her yukata to cover herself but Zuko remained still as stone. He was afraid that one move of a muscle would have him run through.

"Father, brother, cousins. Think rationally here." Katara said. Now that she was covered up she looked about the room at the 3 open doors. Since they were in a forgotten part of the compound, Katara hadn't blocked the doors. Now she wished she had. She tossed Zuko something to at least cover his lower body.

"After your dishonor, you're no longer my sister," Sokka sneered.

"You've marred your skin. You've given up your virginity early, and to an Agni of all people. I don't think you can come back from this. You are cut off. And you will be cut out." Katara's father spoke loudly. Zuko couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Please, you can't do that. If you plan to disown her, let me take her in." Zuko's mind was running fast. He had to think up something to prevent her father from killing her.

Hakoda shook his head. "How can she go with you when you'll be dead as well?"

Katara's hand found Zuko's and gripped him tight. She was no warrior so she couldn't help fight their way out. And Zuko could hardly take on 15 armed men with no weapon. This would be the end for them.

"Can't you let us go? We'll run off to another island, anywhere. Just let us live!" She pleaded.

"No. You will have never been born to disgrace our family name." She almost missed the nod Hakoda gave. Suddenly her family descended on them, separating them. "I'm not evil. I won't make either of you watch." Her cousins turned her around so she couldn't see what was happening to Zuko, but the moment she heard him cry out in pain she twisted back, causing the knife nearby to pierce her stomach.

Zuko was not turned away from Katara and so as the knife went through her, he saw it all. The deep red blood poured out of her, mixing with the vibrant colors of her silk. His own pain was like a distant throb in the back of his mind as his body went into shock. He pushed out of Sokka's arms and fell to the floor. He tried to crawl toward her but suddenly he couldn't see. There were still voices though. Bits and pieces.

Katara could hardly stand watching Zuko die in front of her. The blood on his back made it hard to tell what was his tattoo and what was his wound. Then she too fell forward, her hand landing inches away from his. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. This wasn't how they were supposed to die. She found a way to look at Zuko's face, both wishing and not that she could see his golden eyes one last time.

But the effort pushed her over.

The first thing she noticed were the moving colors on the inside of her eyelids. It was like a kaleidoscope was being shined on her face. Then the warmth of the sun. And the sound of trees in the breeze. Lastly, she felt a hand caress her face. She opened her eyes to see an alive Zuko.

"Where are we?"

He smiled softly, "Somewhere where we can be together in peace."

I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. They were supposed to live and tear down the family wall and make happy babies. I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to really be like Romeo and Juliet. Just 2 lovers, forbidden from one another. If you can't tell, they're in the spirit world.

#official zutara month #zutara month 2016 #zutara fanfiction #day 23 colors #I'm so sorry #tw blood #tw violence

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araeph · 7 years

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Defiance, Part 4

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3]

Summary: Katara never thought she’d take shelter from the Water Tribe in the Fire Nation. Zuko never thought he’d build a life with someone he is only supposed to be seeing for fun. And neither one knows just how close their countries are to self-destruction.

[For Zutara month, Day 4, “Fireplace”]

FWOOSH!

A cheer went up as an enormous cloudbank that had hugged the ocean waves exploded into seafoam and whirlpools at the Gates of Azulon. The Water Tribe fleet had arrived exactly on time, and the docks were groaning under the pressure of the crowds that had come to watch the performance. Some of the citizens had waited years to see a waterbender in the Caldera, and Master Pakku and his students did not disappoint. Scarcely had the clouds vanished when a platform of ice skated across to the docks, handrails forming on either side and eventually forming a staircase. Pakku and the other waterbenders glided forward on the walkway, then pivoted as one and enclosed the whole affair in a glistening wet dome as they proceeded to greet the Firelord.

Zuko was impressed. He remembered his father closeting him with his tutors long after the sun went down, making sure to instill the continuous dogma of Sozin. Firebenders are superior. Firebenders can create their own element. The others can only take from what is around them. And while he still considered his nation the greatest of the four, he was beginning to give more and more weight to the idea of a balanced world. He felt that the spectacle before him was a bit much, but he understood. The Water Tribes, after facing a challenge to their very existence, needed to prove that they were still mighty and united.

Standing at his uncle’s side (Iroh had refused to wait in the throne room like a traditional Firelord would), Zuko could see a tall, severe-looking man of eighty years or so approaching, not a single droplet marking his clothing after the display. The sun was rising and it was promising to be a brutally hot day, but Master Pakku refused to discard his traditional fur and leather clothing for the Fire Nation silks that had been offered him. Whether it was out of suspicion or sheer stubbornness, Zuko couldn’t tell.

Iroh turned his head toward Zuko and gave the slightest of nods. They, too, would be sending a message to their people. With both hands extended out to either side, they pivoted low and then swept their hands upward in unison. A great red-gold dragon blazed from their fists, roaring overhead and circling the ships before returning to its masters to be extinguished.

It was a move Uncle had only recently begun to teach Zuko, and at times it felt uncomfortable, as if it were stretching something inside the prince that he wasn’t ready to bring out. But today, he was hopeful about the future, and it showed in his bending. Father might even have been proud of—but Zuko squashed that thought as the Firelord greeted Master Pakku and his retinue.

When it came time to bow, Zuko executed it flawlessly and then forced himself to wait a breath before wishing health and good fortune on the Ambassador of the Northern and Southern Water Tribes. So far, so good ...

“Speaking of which,” frowned Iroh. “I do not see any representatives here with Southern insignia.”

Pakku gave him a curt nod. “We thought it best to keep the fleet as small as possible. I assure you, I bring with me the goodwill of Chief Hakoda as well as Chief Arnook.” He motioned to a servant, who presented the Firelord with two scrolls made from tiger-seal parchment. “We desire nothing more or less than to ratify the treaty as it has existed in the past, down to the letter.”

Uncle nodded. “I thought you might say that, my friend. However, while we will be happy to renew the alliance with the Tribes, the council has made a few … suggestions … which you may find serve your own interests as well as our own.”

The waterbending master actually harrumphed, and Zuko privately took offense on Uncle’s behalf. “We shall see, but I don’t hold out hope for more than the usual niceties. At this stage, that’s the most that can be expected.”

“A discussion that I am sure we can continue,” said Iroh loudly, “when we are properly seated. Gentlemen?”

Zuko nodded again to the waterbender and followed behind the Firelord to his own palanquin. It was all going so smoothly that Zuko was suspicious, a feeling that was unfortunately rewarded when entered the throne room.

Uncle had lowered the wall of fire around the throne!

Ever since Zuko was a boy, he’d thought of the flames that licked along the edge of the Firelord’s dais as a representation of the Firelord himself. When his father and grandfather were angry, they blazed nearly to the ceiling, leaving smoke stains that had to be scrubbed clean by the servants once their tempers had cooled. Even his uncle had never lowered the blazing divider while convening his council or entertaining foreign dignitaries. Now, while there were flames that flickered along the columns to provide light, the central fire was reduced to a soft glow, and nothing more.

Zuko stopped short, looking at his uncle with widened eyes. What are you doing? Have you gone mad?

Iroh regarded him with an even gaze, and in that moment Zuko knew he’d been deliberately kept in the dark about this. He also knew why. The Fire Prince would have publicly argued against such a thing, and it would have been a poor time to display a divided Fire Nation family.

Still, the fact that he hadn’t been trusted with such an important part of the welcome raked at Zuko’s insides. He knew he’d need an extra-long training session the next morning, if it was possible to sneak away from the endless tide of meetings that threatened to drown him. And then there were his nighttime excursions to clean up the streets of the Caldera; those would have to be put on hold.

At least, after tomorrow. There was one more errand he needed to—

As they approached the final column, Zuko and Iroh split up to ascend the dais from opposite sides. Zuko, flustered from the unexpected surprise, almost didn’t notice the small strip of fabric that lay on the highest stair facing him.

Glancing quickly around to make sure that no one marked his movements, Zuko gathered his formal robes around him, blocking the piece of fabric from view, as he gathered it up in his hand. As he turned around to face the Water Tribe ambassador, he surreptitiously tucked it into his robes.

It was good that he’d had years to perfect the impervious mask of his station. Even in the diminished golden glow around the throne, he had seen the color: bright blue cloth, and he wished with all his heart it was some backwards tribute of Uncle’s. But no. This was silk, the kind that the Water Tribe master had refused to wear. To Zuko’s knowledge, silk of that color had only ever been made in the Fire Nation, and for one person.

“Uncle,” he said, barely moving his lips as they seated themselves simultaneously. “I need to go to the hospital wing after this meeting.”

***

In the darkest days, when the sun goes out, we keep its light alive, said Gran-Gran. Look, the little flame swimming in the tallow. As long as the light is burning, there is warmth. There is life.

But Gran-Gran, isn’t fire evil?

No natural force is evil, my child, said Gran-Gran. The people who wield the fire can bring darkness to our shores, but they carry that darkness in their hearts, not their hands. Still, there may be a light in them, too. But it is for others to find, not you. She raised a bony finger. Never approach them. Never speak to them. If you see a firebender, run.

And little Katara had run. She had run as fast as she could to find her father, when her mother was nowhere to be found. She had run behind him, her little legs not able to keep up but trying as best they could. Hakoda had been too slow to stop her when she ran past the doorway of their house …

Katara touched her fingertips to her mother’s necklace. I’m sorry, Mom, she said to the spirit of Kya. I know you won’t like what I’m doing. But everyone else in our tribe thinks they know my destiny, and I—I’m not sure yet. I just know it isn’t in the North, where they’ll frown if I so much as sail a boat myself. I hope your spirit can forgive me. One day.

“Hey, hurry up in there! We’ve got wind snappin’ in the sails—best get a move on, we can make port early with all hands on deck!”

Katara sighed and stretched her arms, easing the tension out of her shoulders and lower back. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” she called, grabbing her water flask just in case.

Once she ascended the stairway to the cramped hammock space, the stark contrast to the sunless dank below made her wince. Even her brown skin had gotten mildly sunburned the first time she had pulled a complete shift at the ship’s stern, guiding the vessel.

It wasn’t easy; the job would have been better suited for two waterbenders, one on each side of the boat. But Katara gave it her best effort, and windmilled her arms the way Pakku had taught her, boosting the speed of the small wooden schooner until it was practically skipping along the waves.

The captain adjusted his hat and grinned at her. “Perfect day to make port!” he called. “Third to last stop before we’re in Fire Nation waters. Appreciate the help, girlie!”

Katara pulled her lips back to form the same fake smile she used on Hahn. She didn’t trust these men, but she was useful to them, and consoled herself with a reminder that without her, they wouldn’t have been able to escape that last Earth Kingdom patrol. They needed her.

But she kept the flask close, day or night.

***

“She’s still here, isn’t she?” Zuko demanded as he skidded to a stop in front of the triple-barred door made of metal. Two guards the size of boulders stood watch over the single-room cell and looked up at his approach. “Tell me we have her in custody.”

The guards instantly bowed to him and unlocked the door.

“Your Highness,” ventured the guard on the left, “I assure you, she has not moved from her chambers.”

“It’s true, sir,” said the guard on the right. “Her temper has been quite … even. Well, that is, for the princess.”

The two men on duty were earthbenders, a concession to Ba Sing Se’s paranoia about the princess’s possible escape—as well as a recognition that earthbenders could restrain a patient more safely than your average firebender could. The guards that dotted the corridor leading from the main hospital to the prison cell were still Fire Nation: a last line of defense in case the princess managed to escape. Idly, Zuko wondered which set Azula thought would be easiest to turn to her advantage.

“Right. My sister, even-tempered,” Zuko replied with a healthy dose of skepticism. “That probably means she’s up to something, and we just haven’t figure out what. Are you sure? There have been no disturbances?”

The guards shook their heads mutely, and Zuko had no choice but to see for himself.

The door to the cell swung open on well-oiled hinges, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake. Dividing the cell in half was a thick grid of iron, too sturdy to weaken or break with firebending—even bending as powerful as Azula’s. These particular quarters were designed for prodigiously strong benders, especially those of the royal line. Although the state-mandated history textbooks didn’t mention it, Zuko knew he not only came from a line of iron-willed rulers: mixed in were usurpers, assassins, and political prisoners of whatever branch of the family lost out on a feud for the royal succession.

Unlike Pakku’s tribe, where lineage was a straightforward line from father to son (or next capable male heir), Fire Nation eldest siblings only succeeded their parents if they were strong enough to hold onto their claim. It was believed that Agni himself chose the next Firelord based on the power he wielded even over those closest to him. Zuko’s sister, her wiry limbs wrapped up in restraints, was a stronger bender than he. It was Azula who could make blue fire blossom from her fingers; it was Azula who commanded the lightning. Her only mistake had been siding with her father against Iroh. And she’d been so young at the time that at first it didn’t matter. But then ...

Azula’s eyes, which were shut like a sleeping dragon’s, flared open at his approach. “It’s the traitor,” she said. “The weakling. Hello, Brother.”

The manacles that kept her hands behind her back clinked together as she moved to stand.

“Azula.” Zuko couldn’t help that his voice softened with pity at seeing her. When he’d known her before, not a hair had been out of place, not a single imprecise step had been taken. Now her hair was cropped short from the time she had tried to pull at it until her scalp bled. He could almost hear the echo of her distraught screams when Ozai had been driven out of the palace.

Of course, she picked up on it immediately. “I don’t need your sympathy, Zuko,” she snapped. “One day, you will understand that I should be on the throne instead of Uncle. I should be commanding respect just like Father. A shame, though. I would have kept you around for your military expertise—as long as you didn’t betray me.” Her amber eyes caught the light filtering through the grille in the ceiling, the only sunlight she had been allowed.

They had been children when the duel took place, and even though Azula had tried to kill him before he’d reached his tenth birthday, Iroh had frowned upon anyone who’d suggested death, or even lifelong imprisonment, for one so young. But then she’d escaped and tried to kill him again. And again, and again, each time getting closer to success. Somehow, she was getting training, and and no matter how many times they inspected the cell, changed the guards, or interrogated the staff, no one could figure out how she did it.

Tired of her games, Zuko folded his arms across his chest. “Then what do you want?” he snapped. “I know that this blue ribbon is from you. What does it mean? What are you planning?”

“You’re so sure I’m plotting against you.” Azula looked upward, squinting at the sun nearing its apex. “Maybe the ribbon was a token. Your new Water Tribe friends are fond of blue.”

“Is that what this is about? The ambassador?” Zuko stalked forward, but reflexively halted before he reached the bars. He’d been caught by her that way before. “Since when was Pakku a threat to—oh.” He narrowed his eyes. “This is about the whole Fire Nation superiority thing, isn’t it?”

“Our beloved nation doesn’t need ambassadors,” Azula fumed. “All it needs are vassals to carry out the business of the empire in every nation. Invite foreigners in, like those guards you’re so fond of, and it all goes wrong.”

“The Fire Nation is strong enough that they pose no threat,” Zuko answered.

“I think you’re parroting Uncle.”

“I think you just called me in here to get inside my head! Good-bye.” He started to walk away, but was arrested mid-step by her parting shot.

“The electricity in this cell block went out last month, during the storm. Did you know that, Brother? Not much more than a flicker, but I’d look into it. We wouldn’t want the prisoners escaping.”

Zuko strode toward the door and signaled the earthbenders to open it.

She always laughed when they ended their sessions, and this time was no different.

***

Exhausted and rubbing her temples from the long day’s work, Katara sank to her knees halfway down the steps and rested for a moment. Prolonged waterbending drained her energy reserves, and she’d wasted no time telling the captain that her bending had to be restricted to whenever it would be most helpful to their progress. (“I’m not a motor, I’m a waterbender--but a motor can’t heal scrapes or keep the rain out!”) She thanked the spirits that they only had a few more days to go. The crew had made good time from port to port, trading their no-doubt-ill-gotten merchandise, but as the captain had promised, there hadn’t been any raids during her stay with them. This was a strictly wheeling and dealing venture, at least until they knew which ships they would have to contend with crossing the western seas.

“Could be Fire Nation, could be Water Tribe, could be a mix of both. Could be warships, you never know!” and Katara hadn’t been able to resist a shudder of dread at that pronouncement. Despite her differences with Pakku, she desperately hoped he would meet with success and the fragile peace could be strengthened as time went on.

Idly, she wondered what Sokka would have thought if he’d gone with her. It’s too high risk, Katara, he would tell her. They’re not “international merchants,” they’re pirates! And who knows whether they’ll keep their word to take you to the islands. For all you know, you could be the next merchandise they want to sell!

I can’t get to the Fire Nation myself in a boat, Katara argued with her imaginary brother. I have to make landfall before anyone knows I’m missing.

You could have gone to the Earth Kingdom. Or even the colonies. You’re heading straight into enemy territory!

It’s the only way to get Hahn off my back, Katara told him. And various other body parts. I have to make him mad enough to call off the engagement.

Eww, Katara! Stop talking like that!

Oh, don’t be a baby. She stood upright and brushed back a tear as she started back down the stairs. She had tried to prepare herself for the loneliness that came from being without her tribe, but it still ate away at her. With luck, all this would be over soon and she could go home.

A high-pitched squawk from above made her glance up at the star-studded sky.

A bright green bird with yellow glowing eyes circled overhead, bearing a gift for its master. It was the captain’s pet, a rare iguana-parrot that he sent out on errands and would return now and again with a trinket.

But it wasn’t the iguana-parrot that caused her to gasp and nearly tumble down the stairs. It was what rested, secure, in the bird’s talons.

A beautifully preserved, sealed scroll made from animal skin. Katara had only seen a few like them before, in the north when she’d managed to steal her way into the library. The roller was made of bone, not wood, and dyed that particular blue that made her think of home.

Her hands felt dry and itchy as her eyes follow the bird’s every move.

She should go back to her hammock.

Definitely.

#zutara #zutara month 2016 #zutara month #zk month #zk month 2016

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