Shaylaxx

Katara as Jean Grey.

Aang as Spiderman

Walk with me.

A dark, modern Spiderman/Marvel AU

༺𓆸༻

Bending is seen as a rare mutation: outlawed and heavily feared. One may say it’s considered a curse.

Aang is a young self-taught bender of all elements trying to keep Republic City safe from bender and non-bender criminals.

He does his best to keep his identity hidden and live a decent life.

If anyone figured out who he was…well he doesn’t like to think about it.

Without the mask he’s an ordinary guy. But the moment the mask goes on, he’ll do whatever he can to keep balance in the city.

It’s like his late mentor Gyatso said. With great power, must also come great responsibility. And Aang wanted to use his abilities for good.

Somehow, despite people’s fears surrounding benders, he’s managed to gain the trust of a lot of people.

Although some still see him as a threat.

But he doesn’t let that get him down.

As time passes, he becomes known as the friendly neighbourhood hero, and the people of Republic City give him a name to call him by.

A nod to an old, withered legend that calls back to a supposed time when bending wasn’t so hated. When bending was once celebrated.

They called him the Avatar.

And he guesses, it kind of just stuck.

༺𓆸༻

One night, he’s chasing down a truck speeding down the streets of Republic City, the city lights flashing and a full moon hanging above his head as he zooms across the sky, people pointing and recording at the sighting of the mysterious hero.

The young multi-bender flies with urgency, using his air bending to catapult himself across rooftops and over cars. Both he, and the speeding truck are heading straight for a collision course with City Hall.

The van veers madly across the road, relentless as screaming people barely jumping out the way.

‘Bastard,’ Aang huffs internally, frowning.

He effortlessly swoops down just in time to swipe a street merchant out of the way, just as the vehicle smashes through an innocent cart of cabbages.

His small victory is interrupted by a loud cry. He winces, staring incredulously as the man in his arms wails in his ears.

“M-My cabbages!” The man weeps, clinging tightly to Aang. “Let go of me! You fiend!”

Aang blinks, a little taken aback.

“Uh, Sorry man. Here.” Aang offers, floating down and gently placing him on solid ground, waving sheepishly despite the scathing glare of the old merchant, before he’s shooting off again, jumping multiple feet in the air.

He quickly notices the van still speeding down the main road, almost at City Hall.

‘Not on my watch.’

With a burst of air, he catches up quickly and lands on a nearby rooftop.

Thinking fast, he raises his leg and stomps his foot, a pillar of rock erupting from the pavement, slamming into the truck's path just enough to stop it seconds before it can bulldoze into the building.

The vehicle crumples and skids until it impacts and crashes through the side wall of City Hall, but Aang's earthbending roots it in place, preventing a worse disaster.

Satisfied, he jumps and lands gracefully beside the wreck.

He glances around, checking to ensure no one is injured, bending the smoke away with a wave of his hand to clear his vision.

As shouts and cries of panic echo around him, he quickly slips into a familiar routine. He ushers people away from the immediate danger, nodding politely at their whispered thanks, checking over any potential injuries and shooting reassuring looks through his mask.

Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he heads over towards the damaged truck.

“It’s over. Don’t try anything!” He calls out sternly.

After waiting a beat, and receiving no response, he approaches the vehicle cautiously. He then wrenches the door open with ease, flinging it aside before squinting into the darkness.

“Hello…?” Aang calls out, starting to feel a little unsure.

Still getting no response, his left palm heats up until a small flame bursts to life, a beautiful blend of reds and orange dancing along his fingertips. He leans in, placing a hand on the top of the car, using the flame to see clearly.

Aang freezes.

‘…What.’

Curled up in the truck is an older woman in the driver’s seat. She’s dressed in a grocer’s uniform, looking terrified, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

Aang blinks, confused.

‘Mrs…Lee?’ He thinks in utter shock.

He instantly recognises her as the sweet old lady who sells his favourite custard tarts in the small store near his apartment. She works day and night in that tiny place with her husband and her cat, Tubby.

What the hell was she doing trying to drive a truck through City Hall…

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‘!!!’

Aang tenses.

Then, he spins around and lifts his arm, the air around him bending to his whims.

He pauses.

Then he takes a deep, slow breath.

And stares at the barrage of bullets hovering mere inches from his face.

The Avatar’s eyes harden.

His fingers slowly tense and clench as he increases the pressure of the air. Then he slams his hand into a fist and the bullets crumple into nothing, crushed into flecks of metal and dust.

Then his eyes slowly trail over to the direction of fire.

A security officer on the scene stands frozen, his smoking gun trained on Aang. But his hands are trembling, his face a mask of horror.

“I-I didn’t mean to do that!” He cries out, but his jaw suddenly slams shut with a click. His limbs contort and twist before he mechanically reloads his gun and takes aim again, his whole body shaking.

“…Hey man, no need for that.” Aang says cautiously, assessing the threat as he subtly gets into a defensive stance, squinting through his mask, his eyes pinned on the trigger finger.

Usually, people were friendly towards him and his work. Well, “friendly” is subjective, but he likes to be optimistic.

You can think of it as an unspoken truce that works well for both sides, especially when it comes to keeping the city safe. He saves the city, and they don’t hunt his ass down for being a bender.

Win-win for all.

But he certainly wasn’t new to people with a deep hatred towards benders. Including himself.

Especially himself.

“It’s not me! I can’t control it!” The officer chokes out, but his hands remain tightly curled around his weapon.

Aang feels unease twist in his stomach at the pure desperation in his voice.

Without wasting another moment, he flips through the air, landing behind the officer and disarming him in a fluid motion. Batting the gun away with a flick of his hand, he pulls the guard’s hands tight behind his back in a locked hold.

But the moment the gun is out of commission, the guard slumps in his arms, lifeless, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Aang tenses.

“What the—.” But he doesn’t have time to think.

Aang, still holding the officer, feels the hairs on his neck prickle with a sharp sting, his senses on high alert.

‘!!!’

He dodges on pure instinct, simultaneously shielding the guard with his body as a brick whizzes past his head.

His head snaps back in the direction of the fallen truck to see Mrs Lee now outside it, her arm outstretched, staring at her own limb in alarm.

“Mrs—…Ma’am?” Aang calls out slowly, straightening.

Mrs Lee looks up, her eyes wide and glazed. Her arm twitches.

“I-I’m so sorry—“ she whimpers, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what—Argh!”

Her body bends at a horrifying 90-degree angle, and he swears he can hear the eerie crack of her joints echo in his ears.

Her arm rips away from her side in a movement that looks painful, reaching down to grab another piece of debris.

But this time, something catches Aang’s attention.

Or more like, he senses something.

Something strange.

He pauses, his mind racing.

What was that?

His fingers twitch.

It’s almost like…like he can feel something unnatural moving through Mrs Lee’s body. Like the steady current of a river suddenly reversing. It makes his skin crawl.

‘Wait, focus!’

“Shit—” Aang goes to dodge again, only to curse again as the officer in his arms jolts awake. The man convulses, then rears up, shoving his fist into Aang's face with surprising force. Aang has no choice but to drop him, flipping away to gain distance.

He pants, grey eyes wide behind his mask, staring as the officer and Mrs Lee face him, their chosen weapons drawn.

But the horror on his face is reflected back on theirs.

‘What the hell is going on?’

The officer’s words ring in his head.

‘…I can’t control it!’

Aang bites his lip, watching them carefully.

A beat passes.

Then—

They take off.

‘Fast—!’

Aang flinches, taking a slight step back as they launch themselves at him at almost unnatural speeds.

They move with a close to supernatural, jerky strength. Luckily, they were still much weaker than him.

Aang continues to dance around them, but it doesn’t escape his attention that their movements are uncanny: precise yet rigid, their faces frozen in terror.

Shit, shit, shit. He can’t fight back now—not when they’re clearly not in control of themselves.

He holds back his frustration, his body naturally weaving, dodging and dancing around their attacks as he finds himself at a stalemate.

What to do. What could he do?

In the chaos, Mrs. Lee's hand finds a shard of broken glass. She swipes at his face, grazing his cheek slightly, leaving a thin drop of blood exposed to the air.

Then Aang feels it.

It was unlike anything he’s ever felt.

His body tenses. Or at least he thinks it does, because he can’t feel anything.

He can’t move.

He can’t bend.

He can barely breathe.

Something has him.

It felt wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrong—

But then—

Something pushes back.

A surge of power erupts from Aang's chest, his eyes flashing a brilliant white.

And that hold slips.

Aang tears himself free from the invisible chains that had been holding him, a man finally breaking through the surface after drowning.

Reflexively, with a decisive wave of his hand, he sends both of his assailants flying away in a powerful gust of wind, hurling them towards the wall at tremendous speeds.

They would probably die on impact.

Something in Aang snaps awake.

‘No.’

Blinking, his chest heaving with laboured breaths, Aang curses and stomps his foot, shoving a fisted hand towards the sky.

The earth beneath them rises up, catching them in soft, earthen cocoons just before they hit the wall. He takes a deep breath, shoving down the guilt at his brief loss of control.

He races over to their still forms, checking them over.

They're unconscious, their faces wet with tears, fear etched onto their features.

But they’re okay.

He lets out a small breath of relief and allows his thoughts to surge forward.

What the hell is going on?

This isn’t like anything he’s ever seen or felt before. For that split second, it was like someone had taken complete control of his body. The feeling was terrifying, and he feels a small sliver of fear worm its way into his stomach.

Police sirens begin to wail in the distance when he feels it again.

A sharp, tingling sensation on the back of his neck.

His head snaps up, staring intensely at a nearby rooftop.

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Nothing.

But he could have sworn…he felt someone watching him.

The wind howls in his ears, the light of the moon casting shadows across his face.

Shaking his head, he turned his focus back to damage control.

༺𓆸༻

Are we enjoying the walk causeeee.

Ahem, anyway. Next follows a sort of summary.

༺𓆸༻

More instances follow.

A new villain emerges. Someone who can control the bodies of innocents. A villain without a face. One he can’t see.

They quickly gain the nickname of “The Puppetmaster.”

The citizens of the city are terrified, the news reports further incidents.

Aang hunts this “Puppetmaster” down, working with city division in charge of anomalies and damage control to contain this new threat.

Turns out he’s an asset to them, especially when he finds out he’s the only one they can’t seem to control.

Good.

Aang is determined to figure out their end goal. They’re targeting different facilities across the city, searching for something.

Information? Money? What were they looking for.

And is this Puppetmaster a bender? He hasn’t seen anything even close to it before. There isn’t a single bender he’s encountered who’s managed to do that.

Maybe a spirit? But spirits haven’t been seen for decades.

But whatever the case, he has to stop them. Whatever they’re looking for, it can’t be good.

However, as he gets closer to the truth, he slowly begins to realise things are not what they seem.

A darkness that exists from his own past comes to light.

And suddenly, he’s not sure who he is anymore.

And maybe this Puppetmaster has more control over him that he realises.

༺𓆸༻

Unknown Location

She was done hiding.

She was done running.

She wasn’t that little girl scared for her life.

She buried the girl who was scared of her own abilities, huddled in a corner trying to survive.

No, now it was them who should be afraid.

She won’t let anything get in her way of finding the one person who matters most to her.

The person they took from her.

Not the law.

Not the police.

Or even her own guilt.

And definitely not the Avatar who dares look at her like he could ever understand.

༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸

༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸༻ ༺𓆸

fanart by Nanfe on deviantart

Another Kataang fic idea

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Wanted to write my thoughts before I forgot this idea. I don’t actually ship Jean and Spiderman in the movie, but idk the characters just FIT and had me thinking. I also think Katara and Aang could be MJ and Spiderman. Depends what type of story you want to tell. Apparently, I wanna go DARK

The Southern Raiders is not a Kataang or Zvtara episode. It is a Katara episode.

It is an episode where Katara deals with her complicated feelings regarding her mother's death, her guilt and how she feels like she was partly responsible for it. How the anger she had inside her since the day her mother died almost consumed her but she still came out of it better than the asshole who killed her mother. How she decided she doesn't have to forgive and forget her mother's killer to find her peace and how that asshole didn't deserve a minute of her time.

Reducing that episode to shipping wars and her relationship with her male friends is misogynistic as fuck. She's so much more than the boys she is surrounded by, and if you watch that episode and go, 'SEE, here's why she should be with X instead of Y', I WILL throw hands.

The crash out from them is genuinely funny to watch lmao like ??? They’re for real mad she’s wearing a yellow ribbon as if this is robbing her of her water tribe identity or something 🤣🤣🤣

Mind you, said yellow piece of fabric has zero cultural relevance to Aang or Air Nomads, it’s literally just the color of his nation and clothes? It isn’t a cultural piece of clothing significant only to him, though.

“While he (Aang) wears nothing of water tribe!!!”

Aang in the movie:

Not only is he literally wearing katara’s water tribe beads ON the threngwa he is wearing, which is actually the most culturally significant item he has on him, but he also wears furs for no reason other than to represent her.

Aang never wore furs in the cartoon even when he was in the SWT and NWT, because he doesn’t actually need them to stay warm. He’s doing that purely to represent her culture lol.

disclaimer but this isn't me saying people shouldn't ship Zutara or that you're a misogynist if u do. Shipping isn't activism. I'm just here to examine why people view the ship the way they do, especially relative to the other ship in the fandom it's incessantly compared to. Although if you are a zutara shipper, you probably won't enjoy this. anyway

Half the chemistry many shippers see in Zuko x Katara but don't see or refuse to see in Kataang is because Aang and Katara's romantic relationship is subversive of typical heterosexual romantic relationships in popular media:

Aang, the male, is younger and smaller than Katara

Katara is the more protective one in the relationship

Katara takes the lead in the relationship

When a male takes the lead in a relationship dynamic, when he gets things on track, when he wants to be taken seriously, and he’s the one who teaches his partner, he is seen as an ideal male - a born leader. When a woman does it, she is seen as “motherly”.

Women cannot be afforded the privilege of being seen as leaders, especially towards men - they can only be given labels defined by men under a hetero-patriarchal lens. Hence Katara cannot be the emotional lead, she cannot simply be a friend worried about Aang's safety - she is being a "mother".

Even outside of her relationship with Aang, in scenes where men would be recognized as leaders and inspirations, people still see her as motherly.

Zutara shippers don’t see any chemistry in the scenes where Katara is protective of Aang because she is the woman being protective of a man.

It doesn’t appeal to the traditional heterosexual dynamic of the man being the protector. That’s why they don’t see chemistry when Katara threatens to kill Zuko if he ever even entertains the idea of hurting Aang, even though "touch her and die" is an extremely popular heterosexual romance trope. That’s why people don’t see chemistry when it’s Katara who saves Aang, who carries his lifeless body out of Ba Sing Se and cradles him close her chest when he's between life and death, but they do see the chemistry when Zuko covers his teammates with his body, and they see it when Zuko takes lightning for Katara. Because he’s the man in that dynamic.

Zuko being older and taller than Katara is really less of an analysis of the story itself but more just a generally applicable observation across most media with heterosexual shipping cultures. It doesn’t appeal to the hetero-patriarchal power structures for the man to be shorter or smaller in stature than the woman, the same way it doesn’t appeal to the same power structure for a woman to be darker-skinned than the man.

Here’s something that has been rotting my brain and irritating my soul for the past few days. And honestly? I am completely done staying quiet about it. I know some of you in the notes are going to tell me I’m making a huge fuss over nothing. You’re going to call me bitter, preachy, overly sensitive, or an annoying bitch who takes cartoons too seriously.

But frankly? I do not care. Because someone needs to say it, and I have never been known to hold my tongue.

It genuinely infuriates me how a loud, media-illiterate segment of these animated fandoms treat Katara, Asami, Mako, Catra, and Starfire like they are nothing more than shiny, decorative "love interests" for the main protagonists. They reduce three-dimensional, deeply complex, traumatized, and resilient characters into beautiful prizes to be won at the finish line of the hero’s journey.

And guess what, geniuses? The actual canon narratives never treated them that way.

The writers rooms gave these characters distinct personalities, goals, catastrophic flaws, fierce autonomy, agency, and literal souls. But because they happen to be visually stunning and involved in central romances, "fans" completely flatten them.

Let's be completely real: the term "love interest," when weaponized by certain parts of a fandom, is inherently sexist and deeply demeaning. It acts as a narrative demotion. It tells the audience that a character’s internal world matters less than their utility to the protagonist.

But you know what is fifty times worse? The absolute garbage tier "Hero Gets the Girl" trope.

When you apply this outdated, patriarchal trope to narratives like Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, and Teen Titans, you aren't just disrespecting the characters who are being objectified—you are actively insulting the heroes themselves.

You are implying that Aang’s world-saving sacrifice, Korra’s brutal journey through physical and psychological trauma, Adora’s exhausting battle against a literal cosmic dictator, and Robin’s relentless war on crime were all just a convoluted quest to secure some high-tier arm candy. It reduces profound stories of survival, identity, and liberation into a transactional game where the ultimate prize is owning a beautiful human being like property.

Let’s look at the actual chronological, canonical facts across these four universes, because the math is not mathing for the trophy-hunters.

1. Katara is the Blueprint, Not a Participation Trophy

To imply that Katara is just Aang's "reward" at the end of the Hundred Year War is a complete insult to the entire structure of ATLA.

• The Facts: Katara is the literal catalyst of the entire show. She broke Aang out of the iceberg. She didn't sit back and wait for a savior; she went from an untrained girl in the Southern Water Tribe to a certified Master Waterbender who taught the Avatar.

• The Agency: In the Season 2 finale, she is the one holding the Spirit Water, keeping the world's hope alive. In the Season 3 finale, while Aang is dealing with Ozai, Katara is the one who outsmarts and chains down a dangerously unhinged Azula. She didn't become Aang's partner because he "won" her by defeating the Fire Lord; she chose him because their souls were explicitly aligned through mutual respect, shared grief, and a parallel desire for global liberation.

2. The Absolute Erasure of Asami Sato and Mako

The way The Legend of Korra fandom treats the romance dynamics is an absolute masterclass in misogyny and character flattening.

• Asami Sato: People look at Asami and just see a gorgeous rich girl, completely ignoring that she is a corporate CEO, a brilliant mechanical engineer, and a non-bender who consistently throws hands with terrifying villains on the front lines. She fundamentally redefined Future Industries after her own father turned out to be a terrorist. Her romantic relationship with Korra at the end of the series isn’t Korra "getting the girl"—it is two heavily traumatized women who found a safe, deeply respectful harbor in one another after seasons of individual growth.

• Mako: And let's talk about Mako, because this applies to him too. When he was paired with Korra or Asami, he wasn't a prize either. He was a young man who practically raised his brother on the streets of Republic City, fighting in pro-bending arenas just to survive, who grew into a dedicated detective. He has his own distinct moral compass and agency, completely independent of his relationship status.

3. Catra is a Deconstructed Masterclass in Autonomy

As someone with a Season 5 Catra header and avatar, I am uniquely qualified to tell you that if you think Catra is just Adora's "prize," you completely missed the entire point of She-Ra.

• The Chronology: Catra’s entire arc is a devastating, complex exploration of abuse, codependency, and internalized trauma. She spent four seasons tearing the world apart specifically to prove that she had agency, that she wasn't just a shadow in Adora’s golden light.

• The Redirection: When Catra finally makes the choice to save Glimmer in "Corridors" (Season 5), she does it knowing she might die for it. It is her first massive step toward true, independent moral autonomy. When she and Adora finally confess their love in the finale, it isn't Adora "winning" a girlfriend for saving Etheria. It is the literal saving grace of the universe because Catra's raw, autonomous vulnerability allows Adora to finally choose life over self-destruction. They saved each other as equals.

4. Starfire is a Cosmic Powerhouse, Not Arm Candy

The 2003 Teen Titans animated series gave us one of the most fiercely independent interpretations of Starfire to ever exist, yet people still talk about her like she's Robin's decorative alien girlfriend.

• The Reality: Starfire is an exiled alien princess running from systemic familial abuse and betrayal (shoutout to Blackfire). She has enough raw, thermonuclear power to level a city block, and her strength is literally fueled by the purity of her emotions.

• The Dynamic: Robin didn't "earn" Starfire by being the cool, brooding leader of the Titans. Their connection in Trouble in Tokyo and throughout the series is built on Starfire actively challenging Robin’s emotional emotional walls. She calls him out on his obsession with Slade; she demands that he treat her with emotional honesty. She is an entirely autonomous soul who chooses to love a mortal boy, not a piece of cosmic property to reward his trauma.

The Bottom Line

When you strip these characters of their independence, you are telling on yourself. You are admitting that you cannot comprehend a narrative where a woman (or any partner) exists outside of their utility to a male or primary protagonist.

When I say the people crying loud and wrong that Katara was a prize, are actually the ones who diminish her power, agency, growth, autonomy and her journey.

To claim Katara is a trophy for the hero is to simultaneously ignore that SHE IS A HERO IN EVERY ASPECT. She isn’t a damsel, nor is she waiting in a tower to be saved.

SHE does the saving. SHE makes her own decisions. SHE is her own main character.

How do people not understanding how insulting it is to then cry “She’s his prize! His Trophy Wife.” - When the series we just watched categorically proved she is anything but.

To claim she is a Trophy Wife or a Prize is to ALSO CLAIM that WHO she loves is what defines her. Which is frustrating and annoying and this crime is done NOT BY THE WRITERS/NARRATIVE but by irritating fans who only give 2 sh*ts about who ends up with who. Urgh.

Katara is not defined by who she chooses to love. None of these characters are. Their love interest of chosen partner should not diminish or effect their accomplishments, their relationships or their fruits as a character unless YOU are going out of your way to make it so.

And then the jaw dropping implication that Aang risks his life, fights tirelessly for peace and to end the war because he wants a “prize.”

I swear people speak but never truly hear themselves…

Here’s a hint: If you don’t like Aang or Katara, you don’t like the show.

And the WAY ZUKO LOOKS AT HER??? And how she looks at him??

Childhood friends to lovers!!!

What is there not to like???

Both of them rebelling against their nation then taking the throne.

They said watch us win and be happy.

Yeah I love them frfr 😭❤️