#repopulating the air nation was never HIS dream

[notdrifting]

Out of curiosity why are you Anti Pema?

random asks | accepting, i guess ???

uh tbh i wouldn’t call myself anti anything??? i just genuinely dislike her character ( and this has nothing to do with my love for lin !! i don’t really ship ten/lin either ) and gave so from day one, but it only got worse when she gave that shitty ass advice to korra- like, im sorry but if you genuinely thought you and twinkletoes jr over there were soulmates you’d probs wait till he realised that right???? barging into other peoples relationships - let alone a long one at that, mind you - is just plain shitty?? i also dislike how she was essentially his fangirl before all that ( and his student which is…ewwww ) tbh i just dislike all air acolytes??? the portrayal of motherhood too that she represents also rubs me in the wrong way, as she was pretty much an over glorified baby popping machine… its just…. ugh, theres so much to unpack that i rather throw the whole suitcase away lmao all in all tho, i believe both she and tenzin deserve each other and no i wont elaborate on that one

[whattheflameo]

As requested in the comments by @helplesslezbeean

27. Happy Does, Kenny Chesney

“Nakad Zenko Band, “Don’t Lose Your Love. 37AG.”

The declaration was met with a handful of groans. Bumi raised his bottle of sake at the group of seamen and officers before taking a long sip. They’re trying their best to stump him with band names again; it’s a popular pastime on shore leave. They’ve yet to do so, which coincidentally means he’s yet to pay for a sake tonight.

In the United Forces, for every good moment there are a hundred and one moments of seriousness and even despair. Bumi doesn’t linger on those for any longer than he has to. His place here suits him- he’s got a battalion of good people, a way to help keep others safe that doesn’t require bending, and, good or bad, each day is a new adventure. He takes stories home to his nieces and nephews and even runs into his sister on occasion. Someone’s got to remind the forces that life doesn’t require maudlinity, much as it tries to force it.

Another song comes on. “Rishi Pallai, ‘Sunshine.’ 76 AG.”

——————————————————————

It’s taken him upwards of sixty years, but Tenzin looks around the newly-repopulated Northern Air Temple and thinks he might be able to stop worrying about the longevity of the Air Nation.

Fifteen years ago, seeing a dozen children he isn’t related to playing airball in the courtyard would have been a pipe dream. Being able to somewhat-retire as another airbender takes his seat in the Republic City government and having a few spare moments that don’t feel like they should be spent meditating while he’s got the chance? He’d have laughed at the suggestion.

There are most certainly things he hasn’t done. Traditions and knowledge that he himself has lost, things that won’t be passed on because they’re outdated. But there are good people in the new Air Nation. He’s got a brilliant, beautiful daughter who’s memorized all he has and more, and three more incredibly skilled children he adores. They alone bring more happiness than he could ever have expected out of his life; the rest is all a bonus.

There still are and always will be worries, but in the long run, what reason has he not to smile?

——————————————————————

Kya will admit that when she set out on her adventures, she hadn’t really expected to end up broke in a nearly-nameless mountain town in the Earth Kingdom, but here she is, and she’s never been more content.

There’s a barstool set up on a small, raised platform near the wall, and she’s got a guitar across her knees that she’s covered with paintings of banyangrove trees and spirit designs. A little glass jar half-filled with yuan sits at her feet. The bar owner is kind enough to let Kya crash in the tiny attic apartment of the building. Her voice isn’t perfect, but she’s happy to share it.

She won’t be staying here more than long enough to build up funds to take her to the next town up the mountain, the peak of which she’s determined to reach within the year. But she’s met interesting people and heard interesting stores. Kissed beautiful girls she’ll never see again and danced in the rain. Made her own existence and name outside the names of her parents and rarely been unhappy with it.

The glass on the counter behind her is only slightly more full than the jar of yuan, but as far as she’s concerned, it may as well be full.

[au-tumn-al]

Aang Week - Day 2: Legacy.

FFN link (x) AO3 link (x)

Rating: K Characters: Aang, Katara Relationship(s): Aang/Katara (implied; can mostly be read as gen) Summary: A week (and a half) after Sozin’s Comet, Aang and Katara talk about how they can carry on the legacy of their lost people. Word count: 1,851 Warnings: Overly abusive to ellipses and possible mood whiplash. Seriously, though, allusions to genocide, but if you’ve seen AtLA, you’re probably fine.

Aang leans against Appa, who had been staying in the Fire Nation’s royal stable the past week. He begins shifting around the straw so it wouldn’t stick in his clothes so much while he slept. He was free to sleep inside the palace, but the large beds in the even larger rooms with scarce decoration and lighting just made him feel alone and small. “When are you planning on going back to the Southern Water Tribe?” He asks Katara, who was in the process of unbraiding her hair for the night with her bone-tooth comb, occasionally scolding Momo whenever he would paw at loose strands.

“After Zuko’s coronation,” she replies, turning to look at him, but continues with her combing. She turns her attention back to her hair before adding, “Maybe a little later. I’m still worried about him.” Katara’s brows furrow briefly, but Aang isn’t able to decipher whether it was out of worry, or because her comb had gotten snagged on an area of matted hair.

“Is there anything seriously wrong?” Aang ventures. It was doubtful it since no one had said anything, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Not anything that goes beyond the initial injury,” Katara sets her comb down, having finished unbraiding her hair and uses her newly freed hand to stroke Momo’s back, propping herself up on her other arm. The lemur chirrups contentedly and curls up in her lap. “But it’s still lightning,” she continues. “Something could go wrong and we could be back at square one. It doesn’t help that he’s not resting as much as he should be so he’s healing slower than normal.”

Her eyes are downcast, and her tone had that tired lilt that Aang had been hearing from her ever since Sozin’s Comet. “Even if something like that does happen, you’re not the only person looking out for him. Plus,” Aang forces cheer into his voice. “You have to take care of yourself too. You’re not getting enough rest, either. Zuko doesn’t need a babysitter.”

She sighs. “You’re right. I’m probably more worried than I need to be.”

If Katara had her mind set on something, Aang convincing her to back off, even a little bit, is a victory in his book. Or���at least she’s probably going to back off a little. She had gotten better about being so nosey since Toph’s stunt as the Runaway, but Aang is sure she had been tearing out more hair than was probably healthy the past week. Week-and-a-half, rather. Katara and Zuko had been in the Capital for four days after the Comet by themselves and apparently didn’t get any information on how the war had turned out so all they had been able to do is wait and hope for the best. She’d said that Zuko’s recovery had been very touch and go, especially after he’d become very feverish the day after the Comet, which that made the entire thing even worse. She hadn’t gone into anything in detail, but just finished with saying how relieved she was that everyone was alright. A little singed, but alive.

“Are you going to be staying here for a while, Aang?” Katara asks.

Thankful for the change of topic, Aang answers, “I think so. I need to go to some parts of the Earth Kingdom, but I think I’ll be in the Capital for a while,” he picks up a piece of straw and begins to idly strip away broken ends. “Sokka kind of implied that the only reason some towns and cities with nobility in them aren’t trying to start a civil war over is because I’m here and they’re scared of me. The Fire Sages aren’t very happy with what their monarchy looks like right now, either, and that doesn’t help at all.”

“I see,” Katara rubs her arm. “Are you going to be able to go back to the Air Temples any time soon? I know you’ve said you’ve been wanting to.”

Aang chews his lip for a moment. “I need to rebuild them,” he says eventually, and tosses the piece of straw he’d been picking at to the side. “I can’t let the history of the Air Nomads be gone for good, but now’s not the time. Things are too unstable for me to take a break from being the Avatar.”

Katara scratches between Momo’s ears. “You’re going to have to repopulate the airbenders too, won’t you?”

It takes Aang a moment, but he blushes at the implication. “I mean not now…”

Katara laughs a little at that, much improving Aang’s mood. “I meant eventually,” she tells him, a faint smile in her expression. She sobers. “I heard that in Air Nomad tradition, monks don’t raise their children, but just let other people do it. Are…are  you going to be doing that?” Her expression is pinched, and Aang can only assume that she’s worried about what he would say.

“No.” He says firmly. “I’ve seen how much kids need their parents this past year. Both of them. I wouldn’t ever want to take that away from someone.”

She smiles at him, although it’s a strained. “So you’re going to be reforming some of the Air Nomad beliefs, huh?”

“Well that’s the only one I’ve really thought about,” Aang replies thoughtfully. “I won’t be making changes like that lightly. The reason that was done so we wouldn’t feel earthly attachments and our loved ones wouldn’t be holding us to the physical world. But it would have never worked because you’re going to get attached to someone. You’re too young to really understand the purpose of that kind of separation, anyway. People have to make the decision to detach themselves from the world and everything in it for themselves when they’re old enough. Having freedom of choice is probably the most vital part of freedom when it really comes down to it.”

“Is that some of your Avatar Aang wisdom?” Katara teases.

“Maybe?” Aang can’t help but grin a little at her teasing. “I just know that I don’t think I’d have been able to detach myself from everyone I know, even if I wasn’t the Avatar.” Well, he already knew he wouldn’t be able to detach himself from everyone. When Guru Pathik had tried to get him to, it…didn’t turn out very well. To say the least.

“Aang?” Katara looks to the side. “Since you’re changing something that the Air Nomads held dear for so long, do you…do you think that you’re somehow disgracing them?” She sounds hesitant, and it clearly sounded like it was hard for her to get her words out.

“Not at all.” Aang replies immediately. “I’m not even going against any of the taught beliefs. I’m just reforming a flawed tradition.” He looks at her curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“The things Hama taught me…” she takes a moment to pause, but continues. “By themselves, they weren’t bad. But they were very harsh; more brutal than the Northern Water Tribe. Master Pakku always taught me to be concise whenever I was in a fight with someone, and to never cause unnecessary damage. But everything that Hama did was just to cause as much damage as possible with no care how much it was.”

“Katara, that was Hama,” Aang emphasizes. “She was completely concerned with causing as much damage as possible. There’s no reason to think that everyone from the South was like that. Some of those techniques were made for living in the Fire Nation. They couldn’t have even been developed in the Southern Water Tribe.”

“I know that,” Katara says. “But she’s the only living master waterbender left from the Southern Tribe from before the Fire Nation took away our waterbenders, and she was my only way of learning anything about my heritage. What she taught me is all I’ll ever know about the Southern style.” She stares at him acutely. “I’ve always known that I would have to carry on the legacy of the waterbenders from the South. But all that I learned from Hama that what is left of it is anger, bitterness, and vengefulness. Everything it was from before the war is gone.” She looks down at Momo, her eyes glazed over. “I guess I was just wondering what you would do. Since you’re trying to not let something be lost to the world too. You said that you’re still respecting your culture by changing a tradition. But for me…”

“I…I don’t know what I would do in your situation.” Is all he can say in response. “I’m sorry that all I can do is listen.”

“I wanted to teach the waterbenders from the North the Southern style, but I barely know anything about it myself.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m so sorry, Katara.” Aang says again. What else can he do except apologize? He doesn’t know how to help her, and he won’t bother with empty platitudes.

“No, it’s nothing you should apologize for,” she half-laughs ruefully and looks away. “It’s not your fault. I should be thanking you instead of laying all of my problems at your feet.”

“No, I don’t mind. I always love listening to your problems. I just hope that just listening will be enough. I…well I won’t be able to solve your problems sometimes.”

She stares at him with those big, blue eyes that have always sent shivers down his spine from the first day he met her, and has that soft smile on her face that somehow makes all of Aang’s worries dissipate. “You’ve already done more for me than I could ever repay you for. Since you’ve returned, you made everything that I’ve ever dreamed about come true. You gave me the opportunity to become a master waterbender. You let me help end the war so everyone can come home. You even let me confront my mother’s killer and helped me through it. I can’t thank you enough for all of that.”

Before Aang can tell her that she accomplished all of that herself, she presses on. “And you always make time to have conversations like this with me,” her eyes look watery, but the warmth in her expression doesn’t waver. “Thank you.” She looks away to scrub her tears with the heel of her hand, her smile still steady throughout. “I think my tiredness is catching up to me.” She says, laughing faintly.

“I think we both need some sleep,” Aang can’t help but smile along with her. “But you’ve already done a lot for me too. You don’t need to repay me for anything.”

Ignoring Momo’s annoyed chirping at being disturbed, Katara moves to embrace Aang, resting her chin on his shoulder once he returns the hug. They hold onto each other for what Aang feels like was not long enough, but Katara looks much more content than she had been when they first began their conversation.

“We should get some sleep.” He says. “I doubt tomorrow will be any less busy.”

Katara sits next to him, leaning against Appa and pecks Aang on the cheek, leaving him blushing. “Good night, Aang.”