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Totally stolen from ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
suzukiblu and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beckyh2112 .
As Nano approches, I'm both jittery and excited and I need little stories to help me pass the time. So here's an AU mini-meme! Pick a character or characters, an alternate setting/genre, a crossover, genderbent, whatever, and I'll scribble you something. What if they were animals, Avatar, Animorphs, Naruto, Mercedes Thompson...
Up to two requests per person, but I'll likely only pick one.
suzukiblu and beckyh2112 . As Nano approches, I'm both jittery and excited and I need little stories to help me pass the time. So here's an AU mini-meme! Pick a character or characters, an alternate setting/genre, a crossover, genderbent, whatever, and I'll scribble you something. What if they were animals, Avatar, Animorphs, Naruto, Mercedes Thompson...
Up to two requests per person, but I'll likely only pick one.
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/runs off
And I'm sorry if my entry earlier confused the hell out of you. I forget that I have people on my flist from before August ^^'no subject
Toph would never say it, could hardly admit it out loud to himself, but sometimes he wished he were… a little smaller.
Oh sure, he wasn’t complaining. There were pluses to being a massive earthbender, twelve-years-old but already decked with thick slabs of muscle. He felt the way Katara’s heartbeat quickened when he took his shirt off on hot days. And why shouldn’t she? He was the greatest earthbender ever.
But being a large guy had its… downsides.
“OW!” Toph yelped, rubbing his forehead.
Gales of laughter erupted from the others and Toph reached out, feeling for the offending object. Just as he thought: He had seen the stonework with his earthbending, but had not counted on an overlay arch of wood.
“Are you okay?” Twinkletoes asked, in a slightly giggle-shaky voice.
CRACK.
Toph’s meaty fist landed flat on the wooden arch. It splintered down the middle and fell to each side, clearing the way.
Prince Sparky made a vague sound of protest, probably none too happy about the treatment of his summer home. Toph just shook out his fist as he grinned. “Problem solved.”
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- Ozai is the Avatar
- Zhao/Long Feng. The admiral who destroyed the Northern Water Tribe gets first pick of slaves from fallen Ba Sing Se.
Avatar Ozai
Surely it was a sign of the favor of the gods themselves that when, sixteen years after the fall of the Earth Avatar under a siege of fire, the next Avatar was revealed to be none other than prince Ozai.
For the young prince, the Fire Sage’s confirmation was nothing less than the culmination of years of planning. He had suspected, of course. He was no fool – as a young boy learning his country’s great history and battles, the fact had not escaped him that the date the Earth Avatar had fallen was in exact accordance to his birthday.
And he was a natural with fire. A prodigy, his instructors said. Outstripping even his elder brother… not that his father ever noticed, or cared.
Now at age sixteen, it was with sweet relish that for the first time he realized he did not need his father’s approval at all. Let Iroh gave the Fire Nation. He, Ozai, was the Avatar. He would have the might of the world under his thumb.
The day after the confirmation – after all the toasts, the fireworks, the wide acclaim of jubilation from his subjects – Ozai set off to begin his training.
The Air Nomads were long dead, wiped out in the first great battles, of course. The Fire Sages had ancient scrolls, mildewed and rotting from age. But they each pointed to the Southern Air Temple – one of many sacred places the new Avatar would traditionally travel.
The temple itself was locked by some means of airbending. Ozai did not have time for that nonsense and ordered the application of blasting jelly to take care of the problem.
He took hardly any notice of the many statues (some now in pieces after the blast) littered around in a never-ending spiral. Ozai had only come for information – more scrolls perhaps, on the ways of airbending.
He did not expect the burst of white light coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, the swirl of mist about his ankles, or the young airbending boy suddenly standing right in front of him.
“Hi!” the child chirped, and despite the fact that he had the tattoos of a master, he looked no older than twelve. “I’m Aang.”
Ozai recovered himself after only a few moments. He had heard of the Sages speaking to the dead, but had never imagined himself capable of the same. “My name is Prince Ozai,” he said, drawing himself up. “I am the new Avatar and as such it is your duty to teach me airbending.”
It was nothing short of an order, carried out in a voice that regularly made his servants scramble for cover.
The young dead monk, however, tilted his head and smiled. There was a certain light in his grey eyes… something mischievous and rebellious all at the same time. Later on, Ozai would grow to hate that look and much, much later on when he was older and a tad wiser… he would think back on it with fondness.
“Hey, I know what we can do,” Aang said, and twisted around in place suddenly, leaping on a ball of air and balancing on it as if it were a top. “Let’s play! Catch me if you can!” Then he took off in a whirl of dust and mist, his high happy laughter echoing back behind him.
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There was no doubt about it. Stakeouts were boring, no matter what morph you were currently in.
Sokka would have sighed – if falcons could sigh. Instead he shifted his light weight from foot to foot and allowed the bird instincts to take the drivers seat for awhile, keeping mildly entertained by zooming in on all the tasty field mice and small twittery birds in the next field over.
< Are you even trying to pay attention? > snapped a disgruntled mindvoice.
It was a shame falcons couldn’t roll their eyes, either.
< Chill, Zuko. I got this. >
A tan and grey pigeon, slow and fat from feasting all day in the park, blundered across the rooftops overhead. Sokka’s sharp talons flexed against the branch, his wings half spread to leap upward before his common sense – his human common sense – snapped him back into reality. With an effort, he pushed the falcon instincts down.
But Zuko had just as good of vision as everything, even from the next tree over. He had seen everything. < Yeah right. > His glare of disapproval drilled into Sokka from forty feet away with hawk-like intensity.
Which was easy for him, seeing as Zuko was a hawk.
< Look,> Zuko said, after a moment. < Maybe you’d better demorph for a bit and take a break. I’ll be fine. You only got forty-five minutes left anyway.>
< Really, oh time-keeper? >
< I can see the livingroom clock from here.>
Sokka was tempted to take him up on it, but as bored as he was he knew he should stick it out for a little bit longer. It was… leaderly of him, or something. Besides, he, Katara, Toph and Aang already decided by mutual agreement that Zuko shouldn’t be left alone in this mission. He was… too close to this.
< Naw,> he said, forcefully putting a devil may care tone in his mind-speech. < Ax is due in a half hour. I can make it.>
A sweet gust of air ruffled his feathers from the south, and suddenly Sokka couldn’t take staying in place any longer. He lifted his wings again and dove down from his branch, trusting the falcon-brain to get him back up in the air before he ate dirt. His wings cupped the air and he swung upwards again -- beat his wings once, twice, and joined Zuko on his branch.
Zuko glared at him – well, his hawk form meant he was always glaring, but he seemed more peeved than usual. < What are you doing? Get back over there. >
Sokka did his best impersonation of a shrug. < I can only see the bathroom from that tree, and trust me, I don’t really care to see what’s going on in there.>
Zuko didn’t answer, except to lower his head and wipe his beak on the rough bark. That was probably some bird-of-prey type insult, but if it was, Sokka didn’t quite get it. Then again, sometimes it seemed the longer this went on the more Zuko seemed to be drifting away from good old humankind all together. Sokka worried for the guy, a lot. And that wasn’t the only reason.
< Hey,> Sokka said softly, sidling up to the larger red-tailed hawk. < I need to know if you’re going to be okay. You know, about this. >
He was silent for so long Sokka was on the verge of asking again. Eventually, though, Zuko’s head turned from the house – his old house – and looked at him with that too piercing gaze.
< My sister and dad are controllers. And we’re hoping by following them they’ll lead us to a new entrance to the yeerk pool. Once we figure it out, there will be another horrible battle and hey, maybe they’ll be killed this time. So I’m fine Sokka. How’s your day going? Still bored? >
< Look,> Sokka said after a dead, horribly awkward minute. < We know Azula has been yeerked for sure, but your dad -->
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:D :D
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They could even be musical piratesHeh, and I'm also feeling a little bizarre. Zuko as a clown at a little kid's birthday party. "This is not in my job description."
Fwee!
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(Oh yeah, I have a hospital fetish. Now shuddup.)
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Zuko... In space! Zuko is, like, an astronaut or something, and Katara and/or Sokka and/or the entire Water Tribe are ALIENS!
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She was standing ankle deep in the turtle-duck pond. Her hair was unbound and flowed loosely along her back, her bare dark midriff in contrast to her light blue skirt and white tunic.
Despite the pain that it caused him, Zuko halted in his step and leaned against the rough bark of a willow tree, watching her practice her waterbending. Just watching. She was in perfect grace with the water, and it arced and turned to her command. Her pure white Sea-Swan daemon bobbed nearby, neck arched like the handle of a gentleman’s cane, and as peace with his watery environment as his body.
It was Katara’s daemon, Ceysok who noticed him first. He announced Zuko’s presence with a loud honk that startled Katara in the middle of her bending form. Water splashed back down into the pond in sprinkled raindrops, and she turned around to glare at him.
“I thought I told you to send someone.”
Zuko felt a flash of anger. He met her glare with one of his own. “The sun was out, and I needed a little fresh air.”
“You are in no state to go walking—“
“These are my gardens, and I am Fire Lord, and I’ll walk them as I please.”
Waterbender and firebender glared at each other. It was Katara who finally broke the stalemate and sighed, her hand on her hip. “Well, I suppose the sun could help the wound. We’ll just do the healing session here.” She gestured towards the grassy bank and waded out, her daemon waddling beside her and favoring him with the darkest glare a swan could have.
Despite his bravado, it did hurt to sit down. Now that the coronation and first few exhilarating days were over with, his lightening burn was demanding attention. Katara must have seen some of this because she steadied his arm, guiding him down to the grass.
“Here, let me take off your tunic—”
“I can do that myself,” he snapped, feeling useless and irritable.
Katara sat back, arms crossed over her chest. She pursed her lips and said again, “Fine.”
Stretching his arms behind him and shrugging the loose shift off his shoulders hurt. But he wasn’t about to let her see any more than he had too. Chihiro jumped down off her accustomed perch on his shoulder — her red plumage flashing brilliantly in the sun. She too, was stiff and uptight.
But finally the tunic was off and Katara directed him to lie on his back. He did, closing his eyes and trying not to wince as the cool water was pressed to the burn.
As much as the initial healing hurt — a few minutes in and the dull ache slowly started to wash away. He had seen Katara heal wounds before, but Azula’s lightening did extensive damage… it was going to take a few more sessions until he was one hundred percent.
The ease of pain was relaxing, and he may have even dozed off for a moment or two.
Chihiro lay flat in the short grass, both wings spread to their full length while Katara’s daemon preened her red feathers — rearranging them and smoothing them out with long ease of practice.
A cool hand on his chest roused Zuko again. He blinked stupidly upward, hardly realizing that he had drifted off at all, and saw Katara’s soft smile come into focus.
“I just realized,” she said. “Your daemon… she hasn’t changed in days.”
His muscles felt too soft, too worn of strength to move. He could only turn his head to the side, watching the two daemon’s together, knowing his relaxation manifest itself in Chihiro. His daemon. Settled at last as a fire phoenix.
“They’re both birds,” he said, and all the meanings behind it drifted beyond the reach of his fuzzy, exhausted brain.
Katara’s hand moved to his shoulder and squeezed. She said nothing.
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>^.^<
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SECONDED SO HARD.
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ANIMORPHS. Marco and Cassie, steampunk.
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1. The Animorphs as Controllers. Yeerks win.
2. Zuko is an only child.
3. Relationship between Jake and the freed-Alloran.
4. Azula is less talented than Zuko.
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1. Ozai & Ursa as Oberon & Titania.
2. Zuko & Ozai as Faramir and Denethor, the tomb scene.
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*ponders*
OH FUCK I GOT IT.
Mai. Genderbent. Season three. With Zuko.
ROTFL.
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“Mai?” Zuko repeats, crossing his arms and scowling at the other boy. “Isn’t that a girl’s name?”
The young noble doesn’t scowl, doesn’t glare. He just moves.
It takes a half hour of calling for help before the guards find Zuko, his shirt sleeves pinned to the wall at the edges by long, sharp stilettos.
****
Several years later, Zuko has long learned his lesson not to make fun of Mai. Actually, he doesn’t want to tease him… he’s fascinated. He just wants to see him smile. A real, full smile.
They’re lounging on the couch – not touching, although Zuko’s hand is close to Mai’s thigh. Very close. But he can’t seem to bring himself to cross that final barrier.
“So…” Zuko says, with a sideways look at the other boy. “If you could have anything you wanted right now… what would it be? Because I could get it to you, uh, you know, ‘cause I’m a prince.”
He looks hopefully at Mai from the corner of his eye, and Mai just looks bored.
“A fruit tart,” Mai says, deadpan. “With rose-petals on top.”
“…Really?”
“No, what do I look like? A girl?”
His retort stings, although it really shouldn’t. It just sort of highlights the fact that Mai isn’t a girl and that Zuko really, really shouldn’t be feeling butterflies in his stomach as if Mai was one. “No,” he answer, looking away.
He hears a long suffering sigh out of his good ear and suddenly strong fingers are at his jaw, turning his head. Their lips meet, and it’s a very long time before they are drawn away again.
“Just in case you didn’t know, fruit tarts are slang for something else.” Mai doesn’t smile. He doesn’t need too. The look is all there for Zuko to see in his dark, fathomless eyes. “Do you want to find out what?”
And Zuko did. Very much so.
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1)Au, Air Nomads are evil.
2)Avatar characters as ninjas. (or Avatar Naruto, but not a crossover, simply a transplant)
AU - Air Nomads are Evil
There is so much noise. Everyone is so angry. They stink of desperation and hopelessness. Like men on their last stand, waiting to die…. and Sokka just doesn’t understand…
“What are you talking about?” the young firebender in front of him snaps. He is about his age, but the look in his golden eyes make him seem decades older. Well, eye, really. The other one is so slitted by thick scar tissue Sokka can’t hardly tell…
Toph gives him a surprisingly strong shove and Sokka stumbles forward, nearly tripping over himself. He glares back at the blind girl. “Hey, warn a guy, will ya?” But she’s too busy scowling at the firebender to notice.
“And you say I’m the blind one! Look at him, Sparky. He came out of a frozen glacier, and he can waterbend. Who else off the top of your head is a waterbender?”
The boy’s eyes snap to Sokka for a moment, evaluating him. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this.”
As if in answer the sound of a thrumming gong rolls out over the courtyard. Dozens of heads turn and in moments the tattered contingents of two separate armies – earth and fire – roll into action.
The firebender whips around, gesturing widely with one arm and bellowing out. “Arm the walls! They’re coming!”
Sokka almost loses Toph in the rush of men, springing into action but at the last moment he grabs her arm. “What is he talking about? What’s going on?”
But it’s the firebender who answers for him, shoving what looks to be a padded Holbrook into his arms. “Arm up,” he says, even though Sokka is fairly sure there’s only a year or so between them. “You’ll need this. It’s an Air Empire raid and they shoot from above.”
Sokka only stares at him. “Air… what now?” And his mind turns rapidly, remembering the years he journeyed with his family, the time they visited the Southern Air temple for trade and the crazy bald monks who loved to bake cakes… That was before the storm, of course. Before Sokka got separated from his family, fell into the raging ocean… before he woke up to someone shaking his shoulder, calling him Snoozles and asking him why he was in an ice-berg.
The firebender’s lips press together. It looks like he’s written him off as a real idiot. He looks to Toph. “Take care of him… if you say who you say he is. Well… take care of him.” Then he was gone, running up to join the men defending the high wall.
“No,” Sokka says flatly. “This has to be a mistake. The airbenders are monks for Tui and La’s sake! They think Pai Sho is a competitive sport!”
“I’m sorry.” Toph is the most subdued he had ever seen her, and that says a lot considering he has bruises on his bruises from her affectionately punching him. “I guess a lot of things have changed in the last hundred years, huh?”
Something in the quality of the air changes, suddenly. Sokka fells a horrible pressure on his ears until they equalize with a painful pop. The wind whips around them and the men on the wall roar out a challenge.
Sokka can’t hear anything else. The wind is screaming, throwing up so much dust and grit he can barely see, can barely even stand. People are falling right and left – a man goes down right next to him with an arrow in his eye. The feathers are fletched yellow.
A strong tiny hand clasps around his wrist and suddenly Sokka is being dragged underground – away from the storm of arrows, of deadly piercing wind.
But not before Sokka looks up and sees a flight of airbison overhead, an army of so many that their bulk and wide tails block out the sun like an eclipse.
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1) Zuko has wings. Others do or do not as strikes your fancy.
2) Another scene of your mute!Zuko Another-Brother-AU
Bonus points as always for Katara&Zuko.
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All the scrap wood was collected and a bonfire was lit in the middle of the village – a blaze of celebration to the likes no one in the Southern Water Tribe had seen for over two years. There wasn’t much food to spare, but the women provided what they could from the extra stores; their men had come home. There would be hunting and gathering soon, extra hands to help. Tonight was a celebration.
Couples who hadn’t seen each other for over two years were dancing the traditional dances around the campfire. Young sons re-met fathers they could barely remember. Wives kissed husbands, and exclaimed over their new battle-scars. Some of the elderly dragged out the great drums and started pounding out a beat and the air was thick with the sounds of laughter, of folk songs, of joy.
Someone grabbed Zuko’s hand – Katara tugging him towards the circle dancing with a playful grin on her face. He followed her more than willingly, joining her in line for the dance –pounding feet and clapping hands in time with the drums. And when the lines of men and women disintegrated at the end of the song, scooping her up in his arms and twirling her around – once, twice, just because he could and he loved to hear her laugh.
Then there was a second – an awful moment between one breath and another where their eyes met and the sounds of the village faded away into a background murmur, and there was only each other; close.
Katara’s eyes refocused. The moment was lost and the boy and girl awkwardly looked around, suddenly finding the little lumps of snow on the landscape very interesting. Zuko relaxed his grip and set her back on her feet. Both were blushing terribly.
“Zuko!” Sokka’s shout was clearly heard from across the fire, and he turned to see the other boy gesturing for him to come over. Zuko held up a hand to show that he heard, and then turned back to Katara. He wanted to tell her then how pretty she looked, with her hair loopies all done up in an integrate knot for the occasion. He wanted—he wished he could show her, just for a moment, how beautiful she looked in his eyes.
But he couldn’t.
Katara just smiled anyway and reached out, pushing her mitten against his chest. She could read his expression like no other. Perhaps she already knew. “I’ll kill him later,” she said, meaning her brother. “Hurry back. I don’t want to be dancing with old Yuruck all night.”
He grinned – it was a touch too wide and too goofy to belong on his normally stoic face, and it somehow pulled taunt his neck-scar. But his heart felt like it was filled to bursting. He turned and jogged over to where Sokka was waiting… it was impossible to compose his grin completely, and the other boy favored him with a wondering look, but said nothing.
“The council’s having a meeting, and they want us to sit in.” Sokka led the way forward, coming to the roundhouse. A smaller fire had been lit inside, this for warmth rather than celebration, and Zuko could see the light spilling between the cracks of the bark panels.
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