#ashmaker au

I feel like I've talked about this story so much, so here's a little snippet instead:

It’s…it’s even more like home. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair as he sits against a wall in a dark alley. This place is just like Nezida, just a nameless stop on the road, full of nameless people, just trying to make their way in life. How many of those people, he wonders, are like him? How many have had their lives torn apart by the Great March? By him, and ashmakers like him? He’s ripped back into reality by a shout and a crash from just down the alley. His head snaps up as a small, dirty figure crashes into a wall. He can hear the figure seething from where he’s seated, see the arm clenched around her middle. It’s a girl, he realizes with a start. Going by the patchwork armor and her tattered clothes, she’s a refugee, a runaway, just trying to survive – just like him, he thinks. A moment passes before she finally spots him, flashes him a pained grin. She clumsily gets to her feet, a knife clutched in her fist as someone yells out.

(He can remember what his father had said once - that everything went to the Army, and to the Home Islands. That everything and everyone had to support the Great March, no matter the cost, but it meant that they paid the price, while the Home Islands became rich. It hurts, taking even this, but he has no choice.) He manages to scrape together a few discarded silver pieces, so old he can’t even make out which Fire Lord is on the back, a small piece of cloth barely big enough to use as a blanket, and an old, decaying water skin. But no food. There’s just nothing back here. Not even enough for the rats.

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He takes a deep breath. Kazon hunts through the darkness, rifling through crates and barrels and even the trash, looking for anything he can carry. Anything, at all, that could help him. There’s so little, though - out here, in the colonies, no one had much. Just like home, he thinks.

------

He has no choice, if he wants to live. He can’t get a job – he’s still in Fire Nation territory, and they will be hunting for him, he knows – but he can’t keep living like this. He’ll have to scrounge. Beg. Or – Agni forbid – steal it. (The idea goes against everything he’d been taught, but what choice does he have?)

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If there’s one thing Jee has learned in his life, it’s that war isn’t hell. It’s so much worse. He stares down at the medal in his hand, the little Phoenix and sunburst almost glaring up at him, the band blowing gently in the breeze. A hero, they'd called him when he'd gotten the award after Guanyu, of the Great March, and of the Triumph of the Fire Nation But he's old enough to know the truth, too: he's no hero, he's just the one who managed to live, and the Great March was the biggest lie of all.

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That really means a lot. I haven't worked on that series in a long time, partially because it seemed like no one was reading it, but I love the world and the series I was making for it.

The bit about firebenders burning from the inside isn't actually an original idea - I saw it in another fanfic, I forget the name but it's a very old Longbee fic that was, if I remember correct, never finished (sadly). But yeah, I found the idea fascinating, so I figured I'd explore it. I think it would be interesting if all the different bending type had a similar thing, but firebending is the only one that automatically makes sense to me since firebenders actually create the fire. But I'm sure there's some way you could make something for the other three types.

I would also like to say that, while it has taken me...going on three years now, I have started working again on Chapter II - 'ashes of our sins'. Here's a snippet from the beginning:

From burning on the mountainside, prequel to burn on the pyre, about Zuko, Azula, Iroh, and a crew of misfits:

“Azula,” he groans.” I’m a little busy right now, you know that, right?”

She nods, looks away for a moment. He narrows his eyes. There’s something wrong. He’s not sure what, but he has a feeling. Azula chews on her lip for a moment before she looks back at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

He thinks for a moment, then shrugs - she’s going to ask, anyway. She's Azula, after all.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

There’s a long moment of silence as Azula opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again only to close it once more, like she can’t find the words she’s searching for.

(Oh.

Oh.)

“You’re going to be safe today, right?” she asks.” During the war meeting?”

From my dark!Azutara+Maiko AU (part 1 still needs a title so if you have suggestions - hit me!):

She ducks her head under the water, wrapping her arms around herself. Stop crying, she tells herself as she breathes out. She breathes in - water in her lungs. It’s an odd feeling. Uncomfortable. She doesn’t like it, but it’s not something that hurts her. Not really. It hasn’t, in a very long time.

When Katara pops her head up, she can hear distant voices in the air. They’re still some ways off; a couple miles, if she has to guess. The hunters - they’re getting closer. Katara sighs, and chokes back the rest of her tears. There will be time to cry later.

She needs to move.

Title: treat me like a stranger (and that feels so rough)

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Characters: Original Characters, Original Female Characters

Tags: Oshiro Miyu & Suguira Teruko, Original Female Character & Original Female Character, Angst, Angst and Feels, atla oc week 2022, Friendship, Female Friendship, Pre-Friendship, (I guess?) - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Character Death, (of an original character), (it's off screen)

Summary:

Miyu receives a life-changing letter - except it's not a letter for her.

It's for the woman who is probably her least favorite person on the ship. ------ Written for @atlaocweek.