The Older I Get, The More Wisdom I See In Aang’s Choice At The End Of The Series. We Always Joke That

while we're on the subject WHY IS ROSABELLA THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T GET SLEEVES???

and possibly even funnier why did she TAKE AWAY EVERYONE'S GLOVES 😭😭😭 literally everyone in the "before" was wearing gloves and in the after literally no one is which leads me to believe that while faybelle definitely does have favourites she also doesn't mind too much if her favourites die too.

faybelle giving everyone a fashion makeover during epic winter was cute but it's kinda funny that her magic turned blondie's leggings (reasonable and practical) into knee-high socks. when they were going into the tundra. that's attempted manslaughter i think. faybelle even said "how about something a little warmer?" before casting her spell. babe which of the two did you think was gonna help her more in the tundra. if i was blondie i would've pushed faybelle off the sled

(also hilarious how she turned ashlynn and rosabella's impractical outfits into practical ones. she even gave them leggings too. faybelle had her favorites and it certainly wasn't blondie)

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?"

enjoy the excerpt from (the upcoming) third chapter!! updates every wednesday!!

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang led the way through the temple, and Katara winced at every single skeleton that lined the halls of the stone pathways carved through the sacred building. Aang couldn’t look at them, didn’t let himself look at them. Katara didn’t blame him for it. She hadn’t been able to look at the handful of bodies left after every Fire Nation raid, and yet, here were the bodies of all of his people, his entire culture. 

She was snapped out of her spiralling train of thought by the screech of stone against stone as Aang funnelled air through a complex looking lock system, the gears driving it creaking from disuse. Sokka and Katara flinched, but Aang stayed still. 

The door opened to hundreds, if not thousands, of stone statues, gazing unflinchingly back at them.

Sokka dropped into a defensive position out of habit, as if the statues would lunge toward them at any minute, and Katara just rolled her eyes and giggled at her brother, pushing past him as she stepped towards the statues in awe. Weaving between them, she stopped at one of a woman with traditional water tribe clothing that made her heart twist with homesickness. She felt Aang standing behind her, his exposed chest through his one-shoulder robes radiating heat in a way that made her face flush with colour.

He reached up over her to brush a finger against the statue’s delicately carved hair. “She has your little…hair thingies.”

Somewhat unconsciously, she reached up to brush her own loops of hair, grazing the white bone-beads with her ring finger. “I didn’t realise the great Avatar paid attention to things like that.”

A teasing smile spread across Aang’s lips. “I think you’ll find that I’m a very attentive person.” He said the words innocently enough, but the way honey seemed to wrap around every syllable caught Katara off guard, sending warmth spreading down her spine as she momentarily forgot how to speak.

Aang grinned again, looking as though he was about to add something, before a chittery, squeaking noise echoed through the room, bouncing between statues. “What was that?” Sokka yelped, jumping away from the statue whose armour and sword he had been examining. The screech of metal against stone sounded from somewhere on Sokka’s side of the room, and both Katara and Aang quickly wove between statues to join him, all three tensing.

From between the statues, the sound got louder, and a helmet dragged between the sculptures, moving haphazardly as it scraped against the floor.

“GHOSTIE!” Sokka yelped, jumping backwards as he pointed an accusatory finger at the helmet. Katara stayed silent, visibly pale. Aang looked back at the two of them, then faced the helmet again. He stepped through those same strange airbending forms, his movement ending with the sharp expulsion of wind from his fist. The helmet blew away, clattering against the stone, revealing….

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

♥ check out the two chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->

pov me when floor

girl who does NOT play when it comes to her bald bf

i think my biggest fear as an avid booktube enjoyer who is also a writer would be publishing a book and then later checking my youtube subscriptions feed only to see that my favourite book reviewer made an entirely new 1hr+ video essay with a thumbnail that is just them glaring at my book with sheer hatred

the following is an excerpt from my new ATLA aang is aaged up AU fanfic!! (or at least, a teaser from the upcoming update on wednesday) (!!!!) (so excited bc u guys seemed to really like the first ch and left so many lovely comments!!

i present to you, a little sample of ch2 of "the teenager in the iceberg"!!!

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The trio flew on through the sunset, until Tui rose above them, pulling the colour out of the sky as if she were weaving onyx black strands of soft wool into the most beautiful of tapestries. Katara settled on her back, tugging her fur lined overcoat closer, huddled against Sokka, who was in turn huddled against Aang for warmth. Moonlight and starlight bathed the three in enough light that neither Katara nor Aang could sleep, although Sokka seemed to be snoring away just fine. After a few hours of fruitless attempts to slip into dreamland, both Katara and Aang rose from their respective spots beside Sokka and moved to sit in the driver’s bench.

“Trouble sleeping too, huh?” Aang cocked a grin, tilting his head to Katara. She kept her eyes fixed upwards, trained on the moon and the stars, worried that if she looked away, she’d end up staring into his eyes like a weirdo. 

“I always feel so awake with the moon’s light on me. Sleeping under the stars has never really been a thing that works. It’s too energising, too… too much. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, no… I get it. I feel the same way in a windstorm, all those breezes and gusts of wind, it feels… exhilarating.” She watched through her peripheral vision as he looked up at the moon. “In times of war, I think we all tend to forget how spiritual bending is at its core. I’d say it’s a good thing that you’re in touch enough with the origins of your abilities to feel the moon’s pull tug at you just as much as it does on the ocean.” Katara raised an eyebrow at the cheesy sincerity, and he chuckled in response. “I’m serious! Out of all the nations, Airbenders have the highest rate of benders, and I’ve always felt like it’s because of how much we connect to the spiritual aspect of all of this. We feel our element through our veins, we acknowledge its origins, we treat it as a sacred art.”

Katara nodded, puzzling it all over. “I wish I’d gotten to learn bending as a child properly, the way you did, with the stories of its origins and the teaching of precise bending forms.”

Aang’s brows wrinkled at this. “You- you didn’t get a teacher? But… weren’t you the one to break me out of the iceberg?”

“You’re looking at the last Waterbender of the Southern Tribe.” She sighed, hanging her head. “Everything I know about my bending was either made up through trial and error, or scraped together by bits and pieces of the few bending scrolls my tribe held on to. We’ve never believed in building fortresses and kingdoms the way the Northern Tribe does, and so, when the Fire Nation raids began… our waterbending numbers just continued to dwindle as they were defeated and taken to Spirits know where.” She bit her lip, trying desperately to steady her voice.

“That's… that’s how my mother passed. I was there, in the tent, when she was…killed.”

---

just finished the draft!! 4,424 words baybeeee!!!! you guys are eating GOOD w this update. releasing wednesday morning:))) catch up on the first chapter before then here ->

atla incorrect tweet-quotes pt3- azula revenge destroying any company she's ever quit her job at is canon and you can't change my mind

watching teen titans for the first time ever rn and oh my god how did it take me this long to start this show

sokka would throw a temper tantrum if he saw that toph was "strength" and aang was "the world" and his sister was "the high priestess" and he was THE FOOL 💀

ever since @antizutara (via this post) put the idea in my head of a kataang wish AU, i haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

the following excerpts are from my draft of "if happiness were a tangible thing, it would be you," hopefully coming out later this week! :)<3

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Ozai strode forward into the passage, beckoning to Katara as he did, and she obliged, careful to maintain several paces of distance. After a few moments of marvelling at the detail of the carved wood panels that lined the passageway, the two finally emerged into a larger room, lined with bookshelves and rolling ladders, intricate carvings, detailed spells on scrolls tacked into walls of ancient wood. A thick scent of cinnamon, and soft rain, and morning dew, smells that seemed as though they  shouldn’t have fit with the space, but did so perfectly.

And the room’s light.

Spirits. It was lit with a glow that felt familiar, and yet, entirely foreign, the likes of which she had not yet known. Stranger still, it didn’t seem to have a source, or at least, not until she tipped her head skyward.

There you are. It was the only thought that seemed logical, as if she were greeting an old friend. There you are. 

Wisps of wind. That was the only way she could think to describe them, although putting mere words to the purest embodiment of hope and dreams felt rather silly and diminutive. Swirling iridescent colours, glowing from within, overlapped and danced with one another. She felt homesickness tug at her heartstrings alongside the flicker of recognition, a memory of sitting nestled alongside Sokka back home as the two watched the Northern Lights flare across the sky. Each and every one of the phantom winds overhead carried possible futures, carried sounds and scents of what could be, what a heart wanted more than anything. Wisps of wind, more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.

The wishes. They had to be.

---

On the day of the funeral, it rained. It was a good omen, for those of the Water tribe, to have the water spirit La bless one of their people even in death. Katara knew this, and yet, the rain still seemed to make it all feel worse. Drenched, shuddering from the cold and her own sobs, Katara looked away when her mother was finally lowered into the ground. She squinted at the castle, at the balcony lit by candlelight on the very highest floor.

And perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps it was her grief warping her sight, but Katara swore that she could see Ozai there, looming in the windows of his study.

Smiling at her.

---

And maybe it was naive hope, maybe it was stupid, but looking up at the stars flying by overhead, Katara closed her eyes and made a wish. She didn’t have the power to stop Ozai and his army. Neither did Sokka. But the Avatar…

The Avatar could save the world. 

And so, she wished for him. She wished for peace, she wished for his return, she wished for a way to prevent the oncoming battles and slaughter. 

And for a moment, it felt as though the stars spoke back. 

---

Once the glow had subsided enough for her to lower her hands, she blinked at the sudden motion as the little orb-thing zipped around her, leaving a trail of stardust. She reached out on instinct with her waterbending, suspending the creature in a bubble in front of her as she leaned in to inspect it. 

“Awe,” She sighed softly as a smile spread across her lips. “You’re kinda cute-”

All at once, another beam of light speared the sky, sending clouds of gold billowing around the two like smoke. Katara thrust her water upwards instinctively to protect them, but when the smoke cleared, the little star-ball was gone.

No, not gone. Different.

Because standing in front of her was perhaps the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.

He levitated slightly off of the ground, glitter and star-dust trickling from his sandals. He looked to be around her age, but she thought perhaps he was older, from the almost-foot of height he had on her. She would have found him rather imposing, with lean muscles rippling through the thin fabric of his one-shouldered robes, were it not for the teasing grin he wore on his boyish face.

“You think I’m cute?”

if you want to stick around for this to come out, it'll be on my ao3 (hopefully) this week! ->