#zutara reqs

[mayskalih]

Happiest of early birthdays to you! ❤️ can I please request a zutara drawing? In your post, you said that you drew ATLA but didn’t mention any ships, so pls forgive me and no worries if this is one you won’t draw!

Everything you draw is amazing and I’ve been a huge fan for a while! Thank you for taking the time to use your talents here! ✨

manifesting this scene 🙏

[toughastofu]

intro <3

heya!! i’m tofu (she/her | 22 | east asian), welcome to my multishipper (mainly taang) blog ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

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🧷 i stick to sfw writing and drabbles (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) so don’t expect smut from me atm. i’m open to any atla ship, but my otps are taang, sukka, mailee and zutara! my priority is taang so cmere shippers pspspsps

🧷 what i’ll be posting: taang fics and hcs, other atla stuff. u can send suggestions/reqs in my ask! dni if ur an asshole. and no fandom discourse in this blog pls.

🧷 my inbox is open, and so is my ask!

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andd that’s about it. would love to finally make friends on here!

[southslates]

Zutara head canon: When their newborn starts to stir at dawn, Zuko takes them to the balcony to watch the sunrise

Zuko has lived his whole life with a certain set of guidelines; he has rules he must follow as a member of the Fire Nation's royal family.

When he was a child he had enjoyed playing with the palace servants. Azula always had Mai and Ty Lee, but he was too awkward to make friends and too kind to find subjects of his own. He had learnt, at age seven, facing his father's burning, aurelian gaze, that princes do not hang around with the common folk - he had learnt that all must abide to his whims, to the whims of Prince Ozai.

He had remained friendless, quiet, had sulked his way and grown with only his mother as company. He was only adhering to his birthright.

Then his father had burnt off half his face for speaking out of turn in a meeting. The Agni Kai is sacred to the Fire Nation and he had refused to fight his father and suffered an ineffable amount. He had learnt, at age thirteen, eyes of the entire court upon him, that you must always stand your ground - he had learnt that pain and suffering are the only teachers half of his bloodline knows.

He had shaved off half his head afterwards, had been an insufferable captain and sailed the seas. He was only adhering to his birthright; he was only facing horrors he had created.

As an adult, Zuko is still held to a strict code; a moral code, one written in blood (in lightning scars). But some rules are almost enjoyable to follow. Some guidelines are formed from love and not propriety, from mutual respect.

Katara lies in bed next to him. They sleep together - this is a rule he likes to follow. Izumi lies in their room, close enough so that they can always protect her - this is a rule he likes to follow.

When his eyes open in full he first glances to the window, a sky still slightly blackened. He can feel the fire in his veins rejuvenating itself and pulls himself out of his wife's tight grasp, sliding her posessive hand off of his waist. She moans and he stills. There is one rule in his household that Zuko, at age twenty-five, is absolutely terrified of breaking -

Katara is not to be woken until hours after sunrise. He rises with the sun, she with the moon; she bends and heals far later into the night than he does, and she rages when she is roused early. She is always adorable with the vestiges of sleep written across her features, but Zuko . . . he knows that look is not really worth the consequences of awakening her before her time.

At that same moment Izumi gets up, like she can also feel the flames. He wonders if this means she is a firebender almost briefly before his gaze turns back to Katara, who is rising with him, and looks almost - almost so close to consciousness. Oh, no.

In a burst of confidence he turns her off of him and jumps across their cool floor, barefoot, and takes Izumi out of her crib. Her features are red and she looks like she's on the brink of tears before she takes him in, gurgling and reaching out for his face. There are only two people in this world he trusts to touch his scar so easily.

"We are not," he hefts her up, placing her face over his shoulder, "going to wake up your mother. Do you understand?"

His tone is teasingly serious, and his daughter calls him out on it, gurgling against his side. He sighs in complacence and happiness before side-eying Katara once again, relief smothering him when he realizes that she's out again, lightly snoring against their pillow. "Let's go outside. I think that'll be fun. We can look at the sun. Do you like the sun?"

Izumi obviously can't respond to him but when he looks down he sees her bright smile and feels his heart fly out of the window he opens. When he steps outside, stone against his feet, his daughter in his hands, the sun is still climbing into the sky. It paints a gorgeous picture at this moment, showering them in pure gold; he feels its energy in his veins.

"That's firebending, Izumi. That's energy. Can you feel that?" She turns around in his hands and looks out at the horizon, her blue eyes wide.

He can lose himself in this moment; his daughter in his arms, Katara in his bed, fire in his veins. It feels so intrinsically correct, and he thinks that rules can't be so bad if they've landed him in this life.

/

I’m accepting all prompts right now! Drop a headcanon/request in my askbox and I’ll get to it. Thanks for asking this one @thegreysunflower-blog!

[lotustiled]

more titanic au zutara? more titanic au zutara. ⚓

[clubolive]

E1 w zutara???? -pleading eyes&fingers touch emojis-

💟💟💟

[zelzenik]

hi i read your latest oneshot on ao3 about izumi discovering her fire so my prompt is kinda based on that : izumi and/or kya meeting azula and/or ozai. btw i love your boarding school fic a lot 💕(i'm very sorry that the name of the fic escapes me rn)

omg hi!! thank u so much for this prompt! i hope i did it justice <333 i’m glad that u’ve been enjoying on my honor as well ^~^

to read this over on ao3, click here!

“Mommy?” Golden eyes peer up at her, so beautifully similar to Zuko’s.

Katara’s hands are held on either side, and she glances down at her eldest daughter with a soft smile. “Yes, Zumi?”

“Is Daddy visiting Aunt Zula today?” the little girl questions, brows furrowed and a pout on her lip. Tugging on Katara’s hand, she’s slowed down considerably, losing the skip in her step.

“Yes,” Katara replies simply. “Daddy’s visiting Aunt Azula today. So are we.” Somehow, no matter how many years have gone by, she struggles with the fact that Azula shares the same roof as her husband and two precious girls. Sometimes, all she can remember is the way Azula aimed a slender finger at her, shooting crackling blue lightning right at her chest. She can remember the desperation in Zuko’s eyes as he leaped in front of her, taking the sizzling electricity straight to his heart. Despite Katara’s healing touch, there’s a web of scar tissue where the lightning hit Zuko’s chest, and he wears it proudly, a symbol of the deep love he has for her.

Still, Zuko’s provided a refuge for his younger sister. When all was said and done, she stood trial and was found guilty of multiple war crimes of various severity, but she was only a young girl, just fourteen years old. Her deteriorating mental state called for close, careful attention, and Zuko, shouldering the weight of a crumbling nation, held on to her too. She was the only family he had left, apart from Katara and his friends.

Placed in the wing farthest from their little family, Azula spends most of her time in her quarters with an occasional visit from Zuko or her therapist. Katara’s always imagined that it must be a lonely existence, but Azula merely bats her concerns away. She doesn’t visit much with the children, mostly because Zuko isn’t sure how Azula will react to them. She and Zuko have decided, though, that they’d like their girls to have the opportunity to know their aunt, regardless of their own unease.

They’re approaching Azula’s wing now, and the halls are strangely empty. No servants linger here, and there’s a stark lack of the furnishings that make a place feel like home. Katara notes this all, thinking on how she might make the wing more comfortable for Zuko’s sister. Little Kya, now able to toddle around on her own, breaks free from Katara’s grasp, going as fast as her chubby legs can carry her. 

“Kya!” Izumi calls, running after her baby sister. Her dark curls fly behind her, and she catches her sister’s hand, gripping it as they arrive at Azula’s chambers.

Izumi takes charge, knocking on the door with a solid fist. A babbling Kya, always watching her big sister, attempts to copy her, banging on the door with unbridled delight. 

The door swings open, and Azula arches a brow at the two little girls standing before her. “Well, what do we have here?” she muses, mostly to herself.

Never afraid, Izumi furrows her brows, holding onto Kya with a determined protectiveness. “We’re your cousins!”

“Cousins?” Azula questions, shooting a dry look at Katara. “I’m fairly sure I only have nieces.” She taps her nails against the doorframe, glancing briefly at Katara’s carefully concealed midriff. “Unless…”

Katara returns the look measuredly, cutting off that train of thought, “Azula.” She resists the urge to fold her fingers over her midsection, instead pushing past Azula and ushering her children into the room.

“So you’ve finally decided to visit me, sister in law,” Azula notes cooly, returning to her seat on a plush couch. “I don’t believe I’ve even met the smaller one.” Her golden eyes flicker dully as she watches Izumi and Kya play together on the floor with a cautious interest. “She’s a waterbender, isn’t she?”

Still barely stringing sentences together, Kya is blissfully unaware of her element and doesn’t yet understand its call to her. She giggles in unabashed glee as Izumi tickles her, rolling onto the carpet and kicking her legs uncontrollably.

“Yes,” Katara says shortly, sitting on a small couch across from Azula. 

“Good,” Azula muses. “That one needs someone who’ll keep her on her toes,” she says, now watching as Izumi twirls a thin ribbon of fire in front of her sister. “Unless, of course…” She shoots another pointed look at Katara’s middle.

Katara can’t stop the flush that paints her cheeks. “Izumi, no bending indoors,” she scolds instead, not wanting to see Azula’s carpets go up in flames. “Where’s Zuko?” she turns back to her sister in law.

Folding her hands behind her neck, Azula yawns lightly, still perched upon her sofa, legs crossed and feet dangling. “A new shipment arrived today, and there was something in it for me so Zuzu went to go get it.” Her attention is then drawn to Kya who’s gotten into the jar of Azula’s paint brushes. Quick to her feet, she makes her way to Kya’s side, whisking the brushes away and placing them back onto a table close by. “I was painting before your father arrived,” she explains to the children before Katara has the chance to scold Kya. “Would you like to paint with me?” she then asks, uncharacteristically gentle.

At Izumi’s enthusiastic squeal and Kya’s excited babbling, Azula seems to soften, and she rummages through a stack of canvases, searching for a blank one. Draping a tarp on the carpeted floor, she sets up shop there, Izumi and Kya sidling up to her on either side. She hands them both a brush, laying out small canisters of paint.

“Are you okay with them using your paints, Azula?” Katara asks carefully. With Sokka, playing with Izumi and Kya is commonplace; whenever he visits the palace, he never fails to toss their small forms over his shoulders, swinging them around and provoking uncontrollable shrieks of laughter. The girls have never had this experience with their aunt, mostly due to Azula’s supposed indifference toward them.

Showing Kya how to hold her brush properly, Azula meets Katara’s gaze levelly. “Are you, Katara?” Then, she returns her attention back to Kya who’s enthusiastically whacking her brush against the canvas, scattering splotches of green across the painting. “That’s a fine technique, Kya,” she says. Her tone is a bit dry, almost sarcastic, but Katara can see a curious glimmer slowly flickering to life in Azula’s eyes.

A shadow appears in the doorway, and Katara stands to cross the room and meet her husband. He sets a wrapped parcel on a nearby desk as she slips under his arm comfortably, nestling close to his warmth and pressing a hand to his chest where she knows the tangle of scar tissue remains.

Eventually, Kya loses interest in the painting, dropping her brush against the canvas and crawling over to a seat; she pulls her tiny body up to a standing position, bouncing excitedly with her blue eyes sparkling. 

Izumi, though, watches Azula with eager interest, attempting to copy the way her aunt flicks her paintbrush at the wrist and creates sweeping arcs across the canvas, splotchy curtesy of Kya.

Katara never thought she’d see this… Azula looking down on her nieces with so much love in her golden eyes. Beneath her hand, Zuko’s heart picks up in speed, and she looks up at him, noticing the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. 

When Kya takes her first few stumbling steps toward her aunt, clutching at Azula’s robes, Zuko clings to Katara, and she can feel the choking sob as it builds in him. Wordlessly, Katara draws even closer to him, leaning against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.

She knows that their children are blessed with many aunts and uncles… Sokka with his boisterous roughhousing, Suki with her kind smiles and exciting tales of adventures, Toph with her earthbending abilities and sculpting skills, Aang with his sweeping winds and easy laughter… even Ty Lee, ever the acrobat, is a wonder with the kids. But she’s seen the way Zuko watches them, a hint of pain always hidden away along with thoughts of his own little sister.

So when Azula, sitting primly on the floor, cautiously allowing her toddling niece to tug at her loose strands of dark hair, looks up at her older brother and his wife, a curious mist invading her golden eyes, Katara offers her a smile, gentleness overtaking her features. With Katara’s silent approval, Azula seems more at ease, no longer shying away from Izumi and wrapping a hesitant arm around the little girl. Moments later, Kya’s in her arms too, one slobbery fist in her mouth and another in her aunt’s hair.

Zuko opens a mouth to speak, tears shining in his eyes, but Azula cuts him off, “Don’t you say a word, Zuzu.” She attempts to glower at him, but her glare falls flat when it’s apparent that tears are also sparkling in her own molten gaze.

So Katara remains nestled in Zuko’s arms as Izumi throws her arms around Azula, unabashedly declaring, “I love you, Auntie Zula.”

The look in Azula’s eyes at that proclamation could truly melt even the coldest of hearts.

[nazumichi]

Call me Raii!

- nb lesbian (they/them).  - artist and writer whenever I find motivation (art reqs open, do not repost my art).  - spop, bna, toh, toa, pmmm, atla, lok, rwby, carmen sandiego. - standard dni criteria, (queerphobes, transphobes/terfs, swerfs, racists, antisemites, islamphobes, etc). Anyone who isn’t critical of the media they consume. Additionally, catradoras and zutaras ask to follow. Dsmp stans DNI - Ao3: raiising - follow my partner and mutuals!!

[sunsumu]

*:༅｡. Oᴛʜᴇʀ sᴇʀɪᴇs

a silent voice

avatar

^ lisa does zutara only lol dont req kataang

bandori

black clover

boku no hero academia

danganronpa

death note

enhypen

^ no nsfw for minors obv -lisa

fairy tail

identity v

team MANEWN platonic hcs

team MANEWN & team VAL sick hcs

team MANEWN sibling hcs

jujutsu kaisen

kakegurui

magi

mystic messenger

jumin & 707 w/ an s/o who draws on their hands

naruto

obey me

persona 5

p1harmony

sk8 the infinity

tears of themis

the disastrous life of saiki k

sweater weather; saiki x fem!reader

saiki x shy!reader hcs

yu-gi-oh dm

+tba

[southslates]

Sorry I accidentally posted this as a note instead! I absolutely love your work! How about Zutara + “Betty” from folklore!

“I'm only seventeen I don't know anything”

i.

Katara stands in front of him. And then she blinks; and then she keeps staring. Zuko's features look utterly, completely, unreservedly terrified. He looks like he is about to fall apart, right then, as she takes him in.

He has tracked her and Aang across the entire world, and she does not know what he is doing here, but she feels, for some reason, guilty. Her heart beats against her chest wildly.

She should go tell the others about this. She lifts her foot up, and the prince looks like she has just started stomping on all of his hopes and dreams. She knows that gaze, marred as it is, all too well.

So she steps forward, feet pounding the pavement until she is truly right in front of him. Her voice wavers.

"I'd like some tea, please."

ii.

The girl keeps coming back to the teahouse. He wants her to leave. She is just a reminder of his past and she holds so much power over him. He doesn't like that. He wants her to leave.

On her fifth day she reaches a hand out and grabs his arm. She has been wearing this strange facade, acting absolutely nonchalant, and his fingers flex as his mind readies him for a fight. But her grasp is light and she lets go when he turns around.

"You owe me an explanation," she says.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he shudders out.

"I know." Her cool eyes are blue but they bear fiery holes into him. She gestures towards the kitchen, where Iroh is watching this strange conversation. "I still want to know."

iii.

He shudders when he's near her, and she finds that strange. But some part of her feels at peace when she flops up onto the kitchen table. He had moved away when she had come close to him -

She wonders, briefly, who has ever touched him; the ugly skin across his face looks like a hand mark.

"You're not trying to capture us."

It's a statement, and he doesn't respond. Iroh exits the door and slams it shut behind him until it is the two of them, just them, facing each other amongst roaring teapots.

"No."

"Why?"

"This - this is fine."

"That's not what I - why did you want to capture us, in the first place?"

His left eye is slanted and his lips curl down. She doesn't think she has ever seen him smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine now. You should leave."

"I don't want to."

"Look, waterbender -"

"My name is Katara," she lilts, so curious; he glares further.

"Look, Katara. Let me go. I don't want to cause any trouble."

She slides off the table and heads to the backdoor, pausing to give him one last long look. It seems searching. "It's my turn, Prince Zuko."

iv.

"Moonpeach bun today," she requests, and he doesn't say anything to that, just stands there with his brow tilted quizzically. She looks up a moment later. "What? I'm hungry."

She has never bought food here, before; something is changing, but the metal clamp over his heart almost releases itself.

"Okay," he says.

"Okay," she replies.

v.

One day she comes in and he is not here. She knows his schedule, the patterns; she walks up to the desk and asks the old man there what has happened. He seems to note her interest with a quirk of his lips.

"Lee is sick," he tells her. "He isn't here today."

She has seen this boy in both poles, has frozen him intimately. It's strange to think that the warrior who kept fighting with his eyes bruised and body aching would succumb to the ills of the flesh. "Where is he?"

"Should I trust you, Master Katara?"

"You know -"

"I know a lot of things. And I care for my nephew," he frowns, but she feels validated. "Come back."

vi.

"How did you manage to get an infection here?" a voice sounds from above him, and he winces in pain at its high note. That does not sound like Uncle.

"W--what?"

His right eye blearily opens and he wants to jump away when he's faced with that deep, startling blue. Katara does not seem angry over him. Now that he is alert his nerves are tingling, and he looks down to see her hands on his bare chest. Color rises to his cheek, but she seems unaffected.

"You seem to enjoy hurting yourself," she says almost teasingly, but she does not even know half the truth. Zuko is not good at taking care of himself, and he had left this wound to fester. He does not always mind being Lee, but sometimes he feels that this life will never be enough.

Now, he is slightly lucid. "Why are you here?"

Her hands glow, clinically, on his chest. "I'm healing you."

"Why?"

Her features, gorgeous in the night's light, dim. "That doesn't matter."

vii.

He is different, now. He is calmer at a surface level, but she sees a fire that lives within; his blood feels like it is boiling.

She's curious about what lies further; she knows she should not be.

viii.

"That girl knows we're firebenders," he whispers, and Uncle turns.

"Of course Master Katara knows the truth. What is the problem?"

"I wasn't talking about her -" But she's here, still, and she walks right up to him at the counter. It has been different, after the day she showed up to his apartment. It has been something tentative, something like friendship.

"Hi," she says breathlessly, and he can't help himself.

"Hi."

They stare at each other before Iroh's sharp whistle draws them out of this; a brown head turns and leaves the shop in the distance.

ix.

There is some sort of festival in the streets, and she avoids dancing performers to wander into an almost empty shop. Pao is not there, so she steps into the kitchen freely; neither men inside are surprised to see her there.

"What's going on?" she asks. Zuko reaches next to him and places a steaming cup of tea in her hands. He is not wearing his apron right now; he looks different. He looks less broad and more defined, and she likes looking at him. She does.

"The Celebration of the Lotus Sky," Iroh says cheerfully. "A nice parade, no? You should be out there, Master Katara." Something lies unspoken; where is the Avatar? Aang would love this, but he is busy with Toph. She frowns thinking about it and almost drops the cup. Zuko places his hand right in front of her, and she smiles at him.

A strange sort of hope is blooming in her chest. "It sounds fun."

Zuko looks like he is struggling with something for a moment. Iroh takes that time to leave. But then he looks at her, golden eyes looking strangely innocent, and speaks. "Yeah, it does."

x.

Something comes together under that sky; lanterns float by them, and she gets him to actually speak once they find a vendor selling Fire Nation cuisine.

She pays for him, and he does not know how to feel about that. He is distracted as they walk through the streets, as she seems young and jubilant. Here, she is just Katara. Not a master, not calculated; she is just here. She is not playing games with him.

It feels nice, because everyone plays games with him.

She pulls him to a fountain after they've exhausted the path, and his cheeks are hurting with laughter for the first time since . . . since his mother had died. She had tried to make him dance and accepted his shake of a head; she had laughed over noodles with him, had made funny faces in mirrors until his smile moved. She had tried, and that makes all the difference.

The sconces are unlit, and she looks at them wistfully. He wishes he could light them, but he cannot risk that, and that leaves him disappointed in himself.

And then Katara leans herself up against his shoulder, and he feels like he could burn down this entire city with the fire that rages within him.

He does not know if there is something here. He almost wishes that there was.

xi.

Nothing good ever lasts. She feels like she had something fragile, like she is about to break it here, sitting on the floor of the Crystal Catacombs.

"That's something we have in common," he says, and she cannot resist walking over to him. She places her hand on his scar, and he does not look scared when her thumb skims his lip. He does not look resigned. He looks peaceful.

Then something breaks and she turns away, and he sees the Avatar, and his heart stops beating.

xii.

She sees him look at her, at his sister. Isn't the choice obvious? She is right here. They have created something here, carved it out in the tea house. She is right here. But Aang is also right here, and she does not know how to verbalize her feelings like that.

That is her mistake. He asks her a question with his eyes, and she freezes.

xiii.

He wants her to tell him that this will not be worth it. He wants her to lay her head on his shoulder and stop him from doing this. Because he remembers the fish in the pond, and he thinks about good and evil, and he does not know.

He needs her to have faith in him.

She hesitates, and she looks at the Avatar, and all he can feel is rage.

xiv.

"I trusted you," she screams.

xv.

"Not enough," he doesn't say.

/

“The worst thing that I ever did Was what I did to you”  - Taylor Swift, Betty

(Indulgence & an S2 AU that got away from me. I’m not a hundred percent sure what you were looking for, but I hope this works aha. Thanks for requesting @colourtheworldwithrainbows​ & I’m so glad you like my writing & I hope you enjoyed this :) Even though I definitely bungled the prompt aha.

If anyone has a Zutara request/prompt you’d like to see written, leave it in my ask box and I’ll write it!)

[zelzenik]

Zutara prompt: After accidentally hurting a turtle duck while practicing her firebending, Izumi tells Zuko she never wants to firebend again. Zuko tells her about what he learned from Ran and Shaw

It’s peaceful here. Zuko and Katara sit together on a blanket, positioned carefully on the grass in Ursa’s garden. It’s been five years now since the silver moon crest found its home in Katara’s mass of dark curly hair and only four since their little Izumi entered the world. Little Kya remains nestled in her mother’s arms while her big sister plays by the outskirts of the trickling pond, making friends with the turtleducks. 

Zuko can no longer even remember a time where he didn’t want this - Those days traveling with his uncle after his banishment feel like a lifetime ago, and he and Aang have since ushered in an era of peace to the Four Nations, assisted largely by his lovely wife, Katara, and their friends. Now, he’s Fire Lord, the ruler of his nation. Now, he’s a husband, his soul sworn to Katara for all eternity. And now, he’s a father to two precious little girls, who are children of peace, unlike their parents.

He sighs, whispering softly into his wife’s curly hair. She smiles up at him, blue gaze sheltered by a thick curtain of dark lashes.

It happens quicker than either he or Katara are able to prevent. Izumi, waving her arms at the turtleducks, accidentally unleashes a stream of fire that scorches a baby turtleduck’s wing. She screams, the frightened turtleducks scattering all over the pond. 

They’ve known since Izumi’s conception that she would be a firebender. During her pregnancy, Katara had always run hot, nearing feverish at times. While Zuko was thrilled at the prospect of having a daughter, nothing could’ve prepared him for this moment, her own discovery of her element. He never expected it to happen this way.

He doesn’t need to look to know that Katara’s already swept down to the pond, baby in one arm, pressing a glowing hand to the squawking turtleduck’s injured wing.

Right now, however, he has eyes only for Izumi. She looks aghast at her mistake, tears welling up in her small eyes as she stumbles blindly away from the pond. He envelops her in his arms as she hides her face in his long robes, crying into his chest.

For a terrifying moment, all Zuko can see in his mind’s eye is Azula. Azula, lashing out at helpless turtleducks when she got angry. Azula, taunting him when his firebending awoke within him after hers did. Azula, mocking him when their mother disappeared, leaving her two children alone with their cruel father. Azula, with her mocking golden gaze and penchant for blood. Azula, sobbing erratically when her whole world, built of lies and fear and blood, crumbled to dust beneath her feet.

He shudders. It’s hard to miss Izumi’s resemblance to her aunt when looking at her. Yes, she has the texture of Katara’s curly hair and skin just a shade darker than Zuko’s. But the structure of her face and the color of her hair… It’s all Azula.

“Daddy, I don’t want your fire!” Izumi’s quivering voice brings him back to reality. “Daddy, take it back - I don’t want your fire. I want Mommy’s water!” Another sob rips through her as she shakes in his arms, terrified of the power she possesses.

At her fear, Zuko’s heart breaks. But he can’t fault his little daughter for being so scared of the fire that courses through her veins… not when it’s so wild and untamed… not when it’s so dangerous uncontrolled…

Katara watches them carefully, her blue eyes heavy with pain. Somehow, they both knew this day would come. They just hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. Kya squirms in her arms, tiny limbs kicking and reaching down towards the pond, their little waterbender.

“Izumi,” Zuko finally whispers, not quite trusting his voice if he speaks out loud. 

She sniffles loudly, wiping her eyes and nose against his royal robes. Inwardly, he apologizes to the servants who’ll be tasked with cleaning them. “Your fire is scary, Daddy,” she cries.

“You’re right, Izumi,” Zuko rubs circles into her back comfortingly. “The elements - fire, earth, water, and air - are all scary when they’re used in ways that are bad. Fire can be scary, Zumi, and as firebenders, it’s our responsibility to make sure that we don’t hurt anyone while using it.” Before he can stop himself, his mind drifts back to a time when he’d said something similar to a young, scared Avatar. “But fire is also a gift.” He shifts so that his little girl’s still on his lap, curled between his arms. He cups his hands in front of her, calling a tiny wisp of flame. It pulses steadily in his hands, flickering in front of Izumi’s transfixed gaze. “Fire is life, Izumi, and we are its protectors, just like the dragons.”

“I’m still scared, Daddy,” she finally admits, lower lip wobbling uncontrollably. “I don’t want to hurt the turtleducks again.” 

“You won’t.” Zuko doesn’t know if this is a promise he has the power to keep, but Katara nods wordlessly, a comfort to him. “I’ll teach you, and Mommy will be here to help you too.” He chokes back a cry of his own, thinking about his younger sister and the ways his own parents failed them both. He won’t let that happen - not with his own children. “We’ll protect our fire together, Zumi.”

With the precious simplicity of a child, Izumi accepts the words of her father. “Will you teach me how to juggle fireballs?” Cuddling even closer to him, she mimics the way he’s holding his hands, crossing her eyes as she concentrates, bringing a baby flame of her own to life. 

At the dark look Katara shoots him, Zuko replies slowly, “Maybe not juggling…” At Izumi’s resulting pout, he continues, “I haven’t practiced my juggling in forever so I’m not very much good anymore anyways.” His girls have him wrapped around their fingers, and they know it.

As Katara sits back down beside them, admiring Izumi’s flame and complimenting her on her control, Zuko sweeps Kya onto his other knee, throwing his free arm securely around Katara. No matter what Izumi does and no matter how many mistakes she makes, he swears that he will not be like his father. He’ll teach her to protect her flame, the same way that Katara will guide little Kya in her waterbending one day. Their two daughters, along with any other children that have yet to come, have two master benders for parents and will have the benefit of understanding all the elements in order to master their own.

With Katara’s head resting on his shoulder and Kya giggling on his knee, he watches Izumi as she preserves her wispy fire on his other side. His heart swells with an overwhelming sense of pride and love for his little daughter, and he swears on Agni, Tui, and La that suffering won’t be her teacher. He’ll make sure of it.

[zelzenik]

.

[zelzenik]

back on my single parent zk roll again.

if you have any scenarios in mind, feel free to drop them in my box, lol </3

[southslates]

hey i looove your writing!! <3 if you dont have too many requests i had an idea-- i noticed that there was a missing scene in tsr, between aang's "lecture" where he tried to stop her from going and when he caught the going anyway (it switched from day to night)... mayhaps there was a converastion in between ? 👀

"What's for dinner?"

"I don't know what's for dinner." Katara bit her lip, attempting to stay calm--none of this was Toph's fault, and they all needed to eat. "We'll figure it out, though."

The sun was leaving the horizon, and the advent of the moon usually made her blood sing a little; today it didn't make much of a difference. She had been seething at the edges since the night prior, after Zuko had told her that he knew of her mother's killer.

She knew she was a good person, but she also knew that she was not Aang. And his words from earlier still reverberated through her mind--his phrasing, his insistence that she must forgive the man who tore her apart and made her an adult all too soon. She wanted to understand where Aang was coming from, but she simply couldn't.

Aang was good, and pacifist, but sometimes she forgot that he was just a child. He had suffered, but this was different. She did not think she could forgive the Fire Nation man whose eyes still burned in her mind.

"I'll help," someone whispered, and she turned to the side to see another Fire Nation man. Zuko rubbed his neck awkwardly, standing still for a moment as if to judge her reaction at his nearness. When she didn't move, he leaned down and picked up one of the bowls to her left.

Katara's gaze stayed stuck on him for several moments, more out of judgment than distrust, before she grabbed a pot and stalked to the center clearing, where he'd set up a fire. "Get out the rice," she mumbled.

Zuko complied, and they both assembled a small dinner together in silence. They didn't have meat tonight because Katara wanted to preserve their jerky and eat their varied salvaged produce from the Western Air Temple first. Sokka would complain, but she was too angry at him to care about that. When everything was set in and Zuko moved to keep the pot boiling, concentrating intently on the flames, she stepped back and simply stared at the back of his head.

Then he whispered lowly. "He's wrong, you know."

"Aang thinks he's doing what's best--"

"Not his opinion," Zuko followed up. "I can believe that's something he'd believe. But the way he acted as though he knew what was best for you--that's wrong."

She raised her voice as if to protest, but quieted when she realized that Zuko wasn't arguing against her like the younger children and even Sokka often did. He didn’t often undermine her. "Oh."

"I'm not going to betray you again, Katara."

She stayed quiet as he maintained the flames so that they stabilized and then stepped back. Sokka and Suki were likely in one of the tents, and Toph had taken Aang to the other side of this small island to practice bending. It was simply the two of them, and she was reminded terribly of the last time they had been like this, face to face.

Zuko read her face the moment she closed up, and he reached a hand out to her before letting it dangle awkwardly in midair. "I'm not," he continued. "I'm not turning my back on you. I will take you."

She didn't want to look at his face, so she faced the ground and stared at the steam rising from the pot. "You know why I can't trust you."

"I've been trying."

She couldn't deny that. "Yes," she said. "You have. You've changed."

"And?"

"And I still don't know if that's for better or worse," she lied to herself. "I'm really confused right now, Zuko."

"I'm sorry."

"You've hurt me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and his low tone sent a shiver down her spine. "I want to fix this."

He made her uncomfortable, and that didn't feel good--so she got up and moved back to their packs, leaving Zuko sitting there. They both stewed in the silence for minutes before Katara put a hand to her throat, where her mother's necklace rested.

"I think you can," she shuddered out. Zuko came up to her again, and she could see hope in his eyes, a belief which stirred her stomach in uncomfortable ways. "Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight," Katara repeated. "I'm starting to think you're more than a legacy, Zuko. Prove me wrong."

The cruel words bit at her lips, but she didn't want to dwell on them. She left him at the highland and went to go get Aang and Toph.

[zelzenik]

hi i’ve returned with another short avatar song (zutara this time). it’s smth i recorded really quickly today (i’m still working on those character req songs, but big bang and school deadlines have been been dominating my time lately, lol).

sorry for any uke/vocal mistakes; one take recordings are wack sometimes, lol. lyrics are under the cut if you wanna see them

flame by elsie (1/19/21) you cradle the flame in your hand and i forget to breathe oxygen and time will pass away but it'll keep on burning oh so brightly

how can i see without your light how can you feel without my love each day will drag along and i i will stay by your side i'll always remain i'll stay by your flame