Would love to see your take on kataang in their late teens or early twenties just being adorable!
Here's a speedy doodle of them all a little older with some mild kataang, if that suits you, anon c:
The gaang is teaching Zuko how to have friends!!!
i've always loved that this is the first thing he says to her because honestly?? katara needs to get to feel like a kid. she did not have any kind of normal childhood, she's felt this pressure to mature and adopt a more motherly role to help her brother and the village and feels like all the responsibility in the world needs to fall on her, and here is this boy who also has this immense amount of responsibility placed on him and he just wants to let her be carefree and kidlike and joyful the way she deserves and just ugh my heart 🤧🤍
Mal's Avatar: the Last Airbender rewatch: The Boy in the Iceberg 1.01
to everybody who suggested "16-year old aang" as a prompt on this year's kataang week submissions, i actually am currently writing a multichapter AU where aang was frozen at 16, and it is kataang!!! it's called "the teenager in the iceberg":)<3
if 16-year-old aang doesn't get chosen as a prompt for kataang week, but it's something you'd love to see in a fic, feel free to check out the first four chapters!!!
You can vote for your seven favorite prompts HERE.
Thank you to everyone who submitted prompt ideas and shared the announcement post! And please do not be discouraged if prompts you submitted or voted for get cut - as always, there will be a free day in addition to the seven main prompts. This means you can use any of the prompts that were initially listed - or come up with your own ideas!
This round of voting will close at the end of the day on Tuesday, May 7th!
Please reblog and spread the word!
We are using a new system this year and no longer using SurveyMonkey or SurveyPlanet. We have switched to Google Forms. Please note the different interfaces.
Prompts that were similar to each other have been combined, just separated with a slash. For example: Glow/Glowing. Some submissions were longer than the one to two words/short phrases limit, so those longer phrases were not accepted.
In total, we had 142 prompts submitted and then consolidated into 115 prompts this year. Thanks again to everyone who submitted!
- The Mods
BUT MIND YOUUUUU!!!!! when ali hazelwood's book comes out later this (next?) week, i'm dropping everything i have to read it.
her face is literally :o -> :0 what a cutie<3
YOU CANT TELL ME THIS WASNT PUPPY LOVE
yet another question for the writers of tumblr, but this time around, it is for fanfic writers & the fanfic writers alone...
in the fan-fiction community, i think we've pretty much all come to accept the existence of the fanfic writer curse (for those who don't know what that means, it typically refers to fanfic writers often experiencing crazy things like car crashes or personal problems that stop them from updating for a bit).
i've heard so many different, crazy stories of fanfic curses in different places, and so, i figured why don't we compile a bunch of them, all in one post?
if you don't have a story, but you know a good one, feel free to share it (with permission, of course:))
︵‿︵︵‿︵︵day two: protectiveness/ bodyguard︵‿︵︵‿︵︵
︵‿︵︵︵‿︵︵‿‿hosted by @kataang-week︵‿︵︵︵‿︵︵‿‿
summary:
stuck in her tower for all eighteen years of her life, katara had come to peace with her own lonely, repetitive existence, her only company being her mother, hama. at least, she *was* at peace, until a certain airbending thief happened along her tower, caught her eye, and forever shifted the path of her destiny. OR: kataangled. and yes, i came up with that brilliant wordplay all on my own.
In all of her eighteen years of gazing out into the same meadow, the same night sky, Katara had never quite managed to piece together why every year, on her birthday, the night sky came alight with glowing lanterns in hues of soft silver and blue. As much as it tugged at her, she didn’t mind the element of mystery too much. After all, a girl who grows up never leaving the confines of her tower is a girl used to looking out into a world of mysteries. Katang spent her days pouring over old scrolls, gleaning bits and pieces about the world from what she could see through her window.
To be entirely honest, it wasn’t all that much. A modest meadow, a bubbling brook, the occasional frog-squirrel or cat deer. Still, it was more than enough for her to feel utterly enchanted by. Each and every time that an animal walked by, Katara would imagine how it would feel to be one of those wild things, chained to nothing, bound by your own will.
Katara certainly wasn’t.
Aang made quick work of the tower walls, the uneven brick providing natural foot and handholds as he scaled the rough, mossy stone. When he finally reached the summit of the spire, he heaved himself over, his breath rough as he dusted off his palms. He tugged off his thin overshift, revealing his one-shouldered monk’s robes as he did. Aang scratched his neck absentmindedly as he took in his surroundings. He was surprised to see that the tower was furnished, lived-in, even. He recognized waterbending forms painted on most of the walls. There were even lit candles softly flickering away in various nooks and crannies, casting warm light over the room.
Wait. Alarm bells rang in Aang’s mind, urging him to further examine the situation he had found himself in.
If the tower is abandoned, then who lit the-
The next sound he heard was a deafening thunk as a thin sword buried itself in the wall next to his head, leaving a deep cut along the shell of his ear.
She wanted a reason to snap back, to make some snide comment, but Aang’s eyes were so open, his expression so… trustable that she simply couldn’t stomach it.
Katara knew that should’ve been telling him to leave. She should’ve asked him to apologise, to be on his way. In all her years of solitude, she’d never dreaded being alone, but something about Aang leaving and her never being able to see him again sent a pang of something like homesickness straight through her.
“I see that you need time to process all of this.” Aang stood, his eyes shining with sympathy that only made Katara feel more guilty over how heartbroken Mother Hama would be were she to find out about her new doubts. “I’m happy to give that to you.” She trailed like a ghost behind him as he strode to the window, tugging a wooden glider from his back before standing atop the edge of the terrace, grinning at her softly as she clung shyly to the carvings of the doorway. “And I understand that you don’t know me, that you have no real reason to believe me.”
He turned to the side, saluting her teasingly. “So I’ll be back, same time tomorrow, so that we can get to know one another a bit better.”
“Aang!” She shouted, rushing to the edge of the terrace as he snapped open his glider, plunging downwards. “No, you will not .”
“I can’t hear you! But I totally agree! I’m looking forward to it as well!” His whoops echoed through the field as he did a couple loop-de-loops.
Aang stepped through her window, right on schedule, with an injury he claimed he had gotten while sparring, Katara’s only response was the word “Again?”
“Hey, If being injured is what it takes for you to let me stay even a few minutes longer, I’ll take it.” Aang grinned, shrugging as he tugged up the end of his top to reveal the bruises patterning his ribs. Katara did her best to focus on the injury itself, and not the muscle rippling over Aang’s side, as she settled into the stool next to him, leaning over to run her hands over the purple-and-blue skin. “I like your company.”
I like you. The response materialised in Katara’s mind before she could suppress it, and the longer it sat there, the more right it felt. I like you.
“So, what else does a thief carry with him in his bag?” Katara had been strangely curious about what Aang considered precious enough to carry around with him in his satchel, but after fishing through playing cards and a set of spinning marbles he’d been very proud of, her interest was considerably less piqued.
“Oh, I don’t think I ever got a chance to explain what I took to end up in your tower.” Aang fished around until he tugged out a velvet box, passing it over to her with both hands. He continued on, talking about the castle security and his plans to pawn the necklace to feed and house children displaced by the ongoing conflict with the Fire Nation, but his words faded away as Katara opened the box.
I know you.
There, nestled in silk, was a pale blue pendant on a deep blue velvet ribbon. Just looking at it for a moment was enough for her to feel entirely off balance. Vague memories hit her, one after the other, of looking up at a ceiling of moon symbols carved in diamond, a hanging mobile of seals and icebergs. The ornate arches of a castle, the corridors and gardens of a grand estate.
I know you.
The world tilted, and suddenly, neither Katara’s will, nor her body, were her own.
to see the rest of the kataang week submissions from the other extremely talented and lovely members of this community, head over to @kataang-week :)<3 thank u so much to the wonderful mods for making all of this possible!
i'm sorry, but the atla fandom is the only place where i've ever seen people unironically use a 12 year old telling his friend that killing someone out of grief is maybe a rash decision and not healthy to argue that that same 12 year old is being controlling and is an unhealthy partner
you guys know that murder is like....a bad thing....right? especially for a 14 year old? you guys know that revenge murder isn't a healthy strategy? you guys know that anyone who would encourage that is probably actually the unhealthy one in that scenario...right??
sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?
yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.
also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"
this idea was originally inspired by the talented @allgremlinart's aged up aang drawings, so please go show them some love!!:)<3
enjoy the excerpts from chapter three, that just dropped this morning!
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Katara watched Aang take one last, painful look at the temple, then turn to the sky ahead, lit up in shades of orange, pink, and gold. She swore she could see arrows in every cloud, arrows like the ones inked across Aang’s body, and the gentle breeze that carried the crisp night air towards them seemed to wrap around them like a loving spirit.
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
“...You have no idea where we’re going, do you?” Sokka sighed, turning the map that was held against Appa’s saddle with a couple of rocks toward himself. “I’ve been charting our progress, and it’s starting to look more like a scrap of paper a toddler is practising circles on than a navigational tool.”
“C’mon Sokka, I’m an Air nomad, travel is in my blood. I have a very strong internal compass. Besides, you’ll find that as a nomad, I’m a master of evasive manoeuvring.” Katara raised an eyebrow, looking up from her spot near the back of the saddle as she stitched a rip in Sokka’s pants. “Besides,” Aang continued, typical teenage boy overconfidence emitting from his tone of voice. “I know it’s near water.”
Sokka leaned over the edge of the saddle, eyes scanning the blue expanse below them that stretched as far as the eye could see. “We must be getting close then,” he scoffed, his tone dripping in sarcasm as he slouched back into his spot across from Katara.
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
“Aang,” she said distractedly, “could you hold this for me?” She handed him the mirror.
“Y-yeah, no problem.”
She tugged out her hair ties, flipping her head upside down for a moment to make sure that it had all gotten loose, then she gingerly tugged a few tendrils of water from the nearby ocean and wrapped tiny streams around her hair, tugging out the crimped braid pattern and reviving her curls. Then, she carefully bent the remaining liquid back out.
She couldn’t see his face through her thick hair as she stood back up, but from his voice, Aang seemed impressed. “I get that you haven’t been able to learn any big combat moves, but for someone whose bending is self- taught, you sure have a pretty good handle on these smaller things.”
She properly flipped her head up now, curls and waves bouncing around her face. Her dark brown locks shone with honey-toned highlights, all different shades of caramel and chocolate sparkling as they framed her face. She reached up, gently twisting and clipping a few strands out of the way, but a few wayward pieces still fell forward, gently brushing against soft, full lips and smooth skin. Aang awkwardly froze for a moment, caught off guard by how different she looked when her hair was loose and free. He had a weird urge to tell her so, but bit his tongue, instead focusing on her answer.
“I learned most of the smaller things from helping Gran-Gran.” Katara’s eyes sparkled, clearly caught up in a vision of home as she reached up to brush up her hair. “ As she’s gotten older, her range of mobility has started leaving her. It’s not really comfortable or safe for her to stoop over to wash her hair, so I learned how to bring the water to her and wash it while she was sitting up, then I learned how to dry it for her fast.”
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Sokka yelped, his voice defensive and offensive all at once. “There is no way a bunch of girls in cutesy makeup and dresses managed to tie me up.”
“Awe, you think our makeup is cutesy? How sweet .” The girl's voice was crooning at first, sweet and gentle, but Katara could see from the way her muscles flexed as she held Sokka by the collar that there was venom hiding behind those words. She was right. “Throw him to the Unagi.”
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
“Katara, c’mon, we’re supposed to be sticking together, where are you going?” Aang tugged at her arm until she was facing him, looking at her earnestly as if he hadn’t basically been flirting with all of those girls back there.
The words came out before she could stop them. “I thought monks weren’t supposed to go around flirting with any random girl, and they’re definitely not supposed to go around catering to a village full of fangirls.”
Aang raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing in a way that made Katara want to splash the smirk off of his face in a wave of water. “You sure have a lot of opinions on what you think monks are supposed to do, considering that I’m the only one you’ve ever met.” He shifted his weight, leaning in a bit closer. “Matter of fact, maybe it's just that you have a lot of opinions on what you think I’m supposed to be doing.”
Katara stiffened at the memory of the words that Sokka had just said minutes before. “Why would I care what you’re doing? I don’t. ”
Aang shrugged, reaching past her to grab a papaya and biting into it. After swallowing, he reached into Katara’s satchel, his hand brushing her waist as he pulled out some coins and quietly thanked the vendor. “Keep telling yourself that, Katara.” Hearing her name from his lips did something to her, but she kept her gaze level, eyes blazing with flame until Aang backed off.
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
*starts talking about kataang* they are kids *starts crying* fighting a war. *sobs uncontrollably* THEY ARE THE LAST BENDERS OF THEIR HOMES *falls on the ground* THEY FELL IN LOVE.
ao3 won't let me save more than 20 favourite tags because it is scared of the power i could wield. they know that the sheer number would crash the site. tremble, archiveofourown.org, before all that i could be
hi!!! i'm quill 🕯an a03 writer trying to figure out an entirely new platform!!she/her
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