#masteredelements

‘ oh thank god you’re alive! ’ / @masteredelements​

                    it's   nice   to   be   needed   ,   it   really   is.   but   spirits   curse   it   ,   it's   exhausting.   she   was   only   gone   for   an   hour   ;   they   needed   food   ,   and   she   just   . . .   needed   a   break.   she   LOVES   all   of   them   ,   loves   that   they   can   come   to   her   for   help   or   to   talk   or   because   they   need   a   hug.   hell   ,   sometimes   she's   even   happy   to   do   their   laundry   ,   just   so   their   stench   doesn't   make   them   easier   to   track.   but   the   constant   call   of   her   name   grates   on   her   ears   like   sandpaper.   katara   was   starting   to   nurse   a   nonstop   headache.   so   she   went   out   to   the   marketplace.   they   needed   food   anyway.   

                    a   basket   of   fruit   and   grain   cling   off   her   hip   ,   suddenly   lighter   in   front   of   aang   and   his   big   gray   eyes   and   his   puppy   dog   pout.   lighter   because   guilt   is   so   heavy.   she   told   suki   she   was   going   out    —    but   she   also   didn't   tell   her   where.   only   that   if   she   was   gone   for   more   than   three   hours   ,   to   send   backup.   she   should   have   said   something   MORE   ,   should   have   at   least   invited   aang   along.   he   worries   about   her.   was   the   silence   really   worth   his   anxiety   ?   

                    they're   in   the   middle   of   WAR.   worse   ,   they're   camped   out   in   the   enemy's   vacation   home   ,   practically   sitting   ducks.   of   course   aang   worried.   maybe   she   should   have   told   them   where   she   was   going   ,   at   least.   but   then   aang   would   have   wanted   to   come   along   ,   and   . . .   

                    fucking   hell.   that   headache's   back   again.   and   the   guilt   is   worse.

                    “   i   went   shopping   ,   ”   she   says   easily.   her   hip   pops   ,   adjusting   her   grip   on   the   basket.   “   i   got   your   favorite.   ”   it's   almost   an   apology   ,   the   way   she   tosses   a   fruit   at   him   and   smiles.

@masteredelements​ sent ❝  i don’t know how much longer i can keep this up.  ❞ / any of ur ocs ! 

╰   🌱       @masteredelements​﹕starter call

‘  mice  are  never  just  mice,  and  pumpkins  are  rarely  just  pumpkins.  ’

“....What?” Was this some philosophical saying that was lost to air nomads? He didn’t know of it and if anything it sounded more like a confused jumble of words. How could mice never be mice and pumpkins rarely be pumpkins? Then they could never be the objects they were named. And to him that couldn’t make sense. Unless of course it meant never to judge something by their appearance. That not everything was as it appeared. But if that was what he was getting at then maybe it should have been at least worded better. “Is this supposed to some form of lesson you think you can give me?”

“ i don’t even think you’re a freak.”

Words that caught the larger figure off guard. His brow furrowed less in glare but more confusion. Not that he entirely thought he was a freak but he knew the look of a metal arm and leg was rather frightening and intimidating and that had been the goal of their design. Still, this child felt the need to let those words out and it was leaving him in a current state that he wasn’t entirely a fan of. “If you think your fake sympathy prevents you from a far worse fate from me then you are mistaken.” His unchanged expression remained arms crossed as he took in a deep breath but not to aim his combustion bending, more to add to the rather intimidating factor he had been using a majority of his life and one that helped him extremely in his profession.

❝ who are you ? ❞

Silence was all the smaller figure was given. Already not someone who talked much, he did talking with facial expressions and actions. For now, he would remain standing still as dark eyes remained locked on boy. Brow furrowed before one raised ever slightly, his nonmetallic hand straightened out as fingers danced by his side. Almost as if he was trying to decide how to approach this in the moment. But then he sees they won’t go away and his posture straightened. Finally he decides to break silence as deep voice replies out. “No one.” Simple two words, not done for pity but because he preferred it that way.

there's  such  an  unwavering  certainty  at  the  way  aang  says  it,     that  it  takes  him  aback  for  a  moment   —    because  zuko  knows  he  means  it     (   he  always  does,     doesn’t  he?     that’s  admirable  of  him ,     zuko  thinks,   how  he  always  manages  to  seem …     honest.     open.  ).     𝐢𝐭’𝐬  𝐧𝐨𝐭  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭  𝐡𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬  𝐡𝐞’𝐬  𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐨𝐟  𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝  𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭,     they’re  a  few  scars  and  battles  both  won  and  lost  away  from  that,     but …    it is a lot.     that’s  the  thing :    it’s  a  little  much.    he’d  always  thought  of  their  mutual  trust  as  something  better  left  unsaid,     for  no  other  reason  than  the  weight  it  carries,     to  have  those  feelings  he’d  held  in  his  hands  for  a  while  now,     akin  to  a  tender,     flickering  flame,     be  so  openly  expressed …    to  have  the  avatar’s  life  be  willingly  placed  into  his  hands,     and  him  literally  being  the  one  doing  it.     it  startles  him.

(   perhaps  putting  it  into  words  felt  wrong  only  because  it  felt  right.      because  though  zuko  knew  aang  trusted  him,     he’d  known  way  before  this,     having  him  say  it  made  it  tangible,     𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡  ).

he  clears  his  throat,     only  for  the  extra  second  of  thinking  it  gives  him.     ❝   uh …    thanks?   ❞     it  doesn't  come  out  right,   a  little  unsure  —   he’s  never  been  good  at  talking.     at  saying  exactly  what  he  means   (   because  sometimes  it’s  too  much,     not enough  :     thank  you.     thank  you,    this  means  more  to  me  than  you  could  ever  imagine.     i  know  i’ve  hurt  you,     and  our  friends,    and  you  know  i’m  sorry,     i  hope  trusting  each  other  with  our  lives  makes  up  for  it   ).      ❝  i  mean  —  thank  you,   aang.   ❞     a  warm  hand  comes  to  rest  on  the  nomad’s  shoulder,    a  friendly  squeeze.    a  smile  big  enough  to  crinkle  the  corners  of  golden  eyes,    bright with content.     this  unspoken  agreement   (   i trust you with my life,    too   )    must  be  what  peace  truly  feels  like.