#zutaramonth

Happy Zutara Month 2025!

Here's my drawing for day 6: Cuddling!

If I allow myself, I'd be noodling this thing to death. So yay for deadlines? Anyways, I hope it's obvious they're cuddling on Appa. He does look cozy to nap on so long as he doesn't turn over in his sleep. >_<

Day 1: Zuko Banished Without A Mission @zutaramonth

La verdad no pensaba participar al menos en este día porque no tenia ni idea de que hacer, pero leí este fic de @goldenhourglass25

En el fic tiene el pelo del libro 1, pero tambien queria hacerlo con cabello largo jsjsjsj

The woman who sat straight-backed by the fire had eyes to match its flames. The eyes were the only things that moved in that rigid frame. They reminded Katara of a polar hare, as if the slightest movement might cause her to run.

Just like she did before, Katara thought.

She watched as Zuko sat down next to her. The small woman startled a bit at his arrival, until she turned to see who it was, relaxing as her son embraced her in a warm hug.

At this distance, Katara could not hear what they were saying, but she could see the expression of warmth, relief, and happiness on Zuko's face. It was rare that he looked so open, but it happened more and more these days, when he was among friends. Or family, she thought, reminding herself that this woman was his family, the reason for his current happiness. Still, she watched them closely from across the bonfire, looking for any sign of the pain she knew Zuko carried in the glow of his eyes from the firelight.

They laughed together, mother and son, and finally Zuko lay his head on Ursa's shoulder, his eyes closed. The woman was dwarfed by her son, making the sight almost comical, and yet it was sweet, and long overdue.

"You've watched him very closer since he's arrived with her," Gran-Gran observed. There was a question in the way she said it, one which Katara chose to ignore in the moment.

"You don't know how many times I've held him while he cried," Katara said, "told me that he didn't know if either of his parents had ever wanted him. I can't imagine that. The not knowing. I don't know if it's better this way, or worse."

Gran-Gran took her gloved hand in her own. "Even a boy who is almost a man needs his mother's arms," she said, her eyes meeting Katara's. "But he will return to yours when the time is right."

Katara felt her face color. "That isn't what I meant," she said, loudly enough to draw attention from a few people sitting around the fire near them.

"His father hurt him so deeply," she continued, quieter. "But she hurt him, too. She didn't mean to, but she did."

Gran-Gran nodded sagely. "Memory is a terrible burden," she said, and Katara couldn't help be reminded of how she had thought the same of Zuko, once. He had hurt her, once, and she hadn't known whether that meant he would do it again. She had made the choice to trust him, then, but it had been a long, hard road. For both of them.

And then, after the war, the first time he had returned to the Southern Water Tribe, she had watched as he'd stripped himself of his outer firelord's regalia, fallen to his knees in the snow before her Gran-Gran, the tears marking freezing tracks on his cheeks as he'd recited some old rite of expressing remorse and asking for council from an elder. She'd had no idea where he'd learned it. Some book, perhaps.

All Gran-Gran had said in response was "You will have to stand up to take my hand, boy. These old knees do not bend as easily as yours."

Now, Gran-Gran spoke quietly to her. "I have not told you all of the story of my own past, and for that I apologize."

"Oh, you don't - " Katara began, but Gran-Gran silenced her with a hand.

"These memories I have carried for so long," she said. "My mother's face on the day before I chose to leave my village. I had not told her, you see. The last words we spoke were about preparing seal-jerky. I did not learn until years later that my father had been killed in the fighting, and she followed him not a year later. A chill, they said, but I knew that it was grief that had settled in her bones. A grief that I had caused."

"But," Katara started to protest, "you left because they were forcing you to get married!"

"Yes," Gran-Gran nodded, "And I betrayed them, my family. At the time it was the only choice, the price I was willing to pay for my freedom."

"But that didn't mean it wasn't hard," Katara said, sadly.

Gran-Gran nodded again. "Every choice we make has the power to hurt, and to heal. And sometimes the choice is made for us. Sometimes we can only follow the path shown to us. This world is not easy for a young woman." Gran-Gran took both Katara's hands, and smiled. "This I know you know, my proud, strong granddaughter."

Katara's fingers went to the necklace at her throat, thumb rubbing against the smooth stone. She looked back at Zuko, holding out a hand to Ursa, helping her stand. The woman wobbled on her feet a bit, not used to the feel of boots in heavy snow.

"I will always regret that my mother never met the man who gave me my son, nor her own grandchild. But I made my choice, and I know you will make yours when the time comes. As will he," Gran-Gran said, nodding toward where Zuko and Ursa stood.

Katara felt the heat return to her face again at the thought that she had really been this transparent, and she looked away from the sight of Zuko and his mother.

Gran-Gran still looked behind her in their direction, though, and not a few minutes later, Katara heard the call from across the snow-covered ground as they approached.

Zutaramonth day 31- reincarnations

AU in which they are in a band together after reincarnating into the modern era

Sorry for being late and ia recently 🥹 I forgot to post this yesterday + was busy preparing for graduation 😭

Here it is, for Zutara Month, Day 1: Zuko Banished Without A Mission

Link

Description: The horizon was no longer empty. A ship cut through the mist—massive and black, with its metal sides slick with frost. Smoke bellowed upward from its smokestack, an oily smear against the pale sky. The ship slowed as it approached, shadow falling long and dark across their fragile ice floe.

The engines hissed, then went quiet. Then a head popped over the rail. An older man with silver hair peered down at then, his face kind, as he called out, “Hey, you kids need some help?”

Part 1:

As she rounded the dragon, Katara found Zuko wrapped in his sleeping bag, leaning on Druk’s neck with the scarred side of his face up. She crossed her arms as she thought about getting the blanket for him. Then again, Zuko didn’t seem cold. His breath was calm, deep and even. His expression would have looked relaxed if not for the furrow in his brow. She assumed he must be having an eventful dream.  His bare shoulders were sticking out of the sleeping bag, his tunic and cape crumpled next to his dao swords, set within reach. If Zuko had decided to sleep bare-chested, he sure wasn’t cold. Besides, his body temperature, as a firebender, was quite higher than Katara’s anyway. She was about to turn but hesitated at the last moment when something on his left shoulder caught her eye.

Katara lowered herself onto her knees before the twig-shaped scar, running from the juncture of Zuko’s neck and shoulder down to his shoulder blade. The rest was covered by the sleeping bag. It was still pink, so the injury couldn’t be more than a few months old. It looked like it was caused by a blade. Katara bit the inside of her cheek. She heard about the assassination attempts on him, which had started shortly after his reign began. However, they had stopped soon after—at least as far as what Katara was told. So, did they start anew? Did they never stop? Or was this a one-time attempt and had nothing to do with the earlier ones? 

Still in thought, Katara discovered another scar on his upper spine, as wide as two fists. It was already faded and might even be from the time back then. Undoubtedly a burn scar. Katara held back a gasp.  How many of them were spread on his body—besides the two she just found, and the other two caused by his own family? Suddenly, using the secret passage to get out of the palace made sense. 

Part 2, a few hours later:

Katara reminded herself to focus on her next question. The one she believed she had figured out the answer to this morning. “You promised I could ask you anything regarding this trip as soon as we have departed. That I deserve to know the answers.”

“You do. Absolutely,” Zuko said.

“No secrets. I want nothing but the truth, and I want to hear everything.”

There was a brief pause. “I will tell you everything important—and it will be the truth.”

What did everything important even mean? Katara decided not to press. As long as he was honest with her, this promise should be enough for now. 

“Those assassination attempts on you never stopped, did they?”

Zuko’s brow raised. “I’d expected you would ask why we had to take the underground passage. My answer would’ve been the same anyway: Yes, the attempts didn’t stop.”

“Yeah, following a secret passage out of the palace, traveling only at night… Those things can make one suspicious. Though, I figured out the reason this morning. Those scars on your back are hard to miss, and you sure didn’t receive them from training.”

“Next time you’re around, I better keep my tunic on while sleeping,” he remarked with a smirk.

Katara wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “How bad is it, Zuko?”

Zuko sighed and rose, Katara rising with him. As he turned, he took off his tunic and pulled his hair forward. Looking at the whole picture made Katara clap her hand over her mouth. 

She drew closer, her fingertips running along the rough burn scar trailing down his upper spine. The scar on his shoulder, which she first discovered this morning and had been likely caused by a blade, ended on his uppermost rib. These two were the biggest, but there were over half a dozen more—older, newer, caused by arrows, blades or fire. 

Those were two sections from Chapter 8 of my fanfic. Rated Explicit, mind the tags and notes. You find it here: