Aang-centric & Katara-centric Fic Masterpost
Aang-centric Fics
14.7k words, oneshot, rated T
“I want you to make me a promise, Avatar Aang,” Katara whispered. This time, when she placed her hand on top of his, he didn’t pull away. “When this is all over, when the war is won… Promise me that you’ll grieve.” (alternatively: grieving is hard. aang’s friends work harder. a series of missing/expanded scenes from a:tla exploring aang’s grief through his friends’ eyes.)
13.8k words, oneshot, rated G
“If you’re not scared, you’re not human.” That, more than anything, should prove that the Avatar is human. After all, not even the Avatar is exempt from fear. Or: five fears that Aang has. Canon-compliant. Aang-centric.
1.2k words, oneshot, rated G
I see them in everything. I see them in nothing. I see them in myself and everyone around me. I see them in the air I breathe, the water around me, the earth beneath me, the fire within me. And I won’t let them go. Or: Aang’s grief for the Air Nomads. Oneshot.
1.6k words, oneshot, rated G
When you have so many words to say, but no one to say them to, what do you do?
You write a letter.
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Aang writes a letter to Gyatso.
1.3k words, oneshot, rated G
Life is broken. Life is beautiful. Life is cruel and unfair and takes and takes and takes, but it is also wondrous and joyful and gives and gives and gives, and it is a choice, a choice, a choice. Or: A hundred years of war has ended. Aang has time to think.
641 words, drabble, rated G
These broken pieces, to scatter alone,
Those days we spent were not my own,
And so we take our final breath,
And look both ways to part in death.
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Aang meditates on his people.
2k words, rated G, oneshot
He smiles from across the table as he moves another piece on the board. Aang sits and looks down at the table, thinking over his piece placements, analyzing his strategies. And yet, at the same time, he can’t shake this nagging feeling in the back of his mind.
This feels right… and so very, very wrong.
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In which Aang has a near-death experience and finds himself speaking to Gyatso one more time.
2k words, oneshot, rated G
Additional Note: also Zuko-centric
Every night, he dreams of death.
Sometimes, he dreams of flames that tower high above him, like mountains made of fire, steadily closing in on him. He dreams of an angry demon with two embers for eyes, a large, heavy hand reaching out towards his face. He dreams of lightning that slithers around a silhouette staggering erratically towards him, two hands—no, claws—lifted up as her mouth twists in a sneer.
Other times, he dreams of tornadoes of fire that turn the sky the color of blood, of fireballs raining down upon decrepit temples. He dreams of screaming children running away from soldiers with skulls for faces and elderly monks rushing towards them. He dreams of splattered red and dying whispers as the flames consume even the tiniest breezes.
And then he wakes up.
He always wakes up.
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Zuko is plagued with nightmares about the war and the Air Nomad genocide. Aang helps him out.
3.2k words, oneshot, rated G
“If you don’t mind me asking”—Aang’s voice shakes Hakoda from his reverie, and he turns to see Aang looking curiously at him—“why are you still awake?”
(fire burning, burning, burning)
(smoke wafting from a still body)
(waking up to roaring silence)
“Couldn’t sleep,” is all Hakoda can bring himself to say. He clears his throat and looks over at Aang. “And you?”
Something flickers in Aang’s expression then, a flash of emotion that Hakoda notices only just in time. It disappears as quickly as it has come, but in that split second, Hakoda has seen it.
Grief… and sorrow.
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Hakoda and Aang have both lost too much in the war. Together, they learn what it means to live.
6.8k words, oneshot, rated G
Five times Aang took a friend dancing in the rain. One time where they all took him.
5k words, oneshot, rated G
Additional Note: also Suki-centric.
Bumi is one hundred and twelve years old and still around and kicking. Kyoshi grew up to be two hundred and thirty.
It’s perfectly reasonable to assume long life is a trait exhibited by more than just those who are good.
Or: Aang meets one of the firebenders who took part in the original Air Nomad genocide, and Suki deals with the aftermath.
2.1k words, oneshot, rated G
You don’t get over the genocide of your entire people and culture in a day.
You just don’t.
OR: Aang is grieving, Sokka is a good big brother, and he’s not sure what he thinks of this crazy kid who’s suddenly turned his life upside down, but he’s gonna try and take care of him anyways.
13.2k words, oneshot, rated G
“You always do this,” Katara whispered. She hoped he could hear the hurt there, riding the waves of her voice.
“I don’t have a choice.” Aang’s voice sounded bitter, a caustic edge she’d rarely heard from him surprising her as it cut into her heart.
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Aang doesn’t come out of his fight with Ozai unscathed. He should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to hide it from Katara.
2.5k words, oneshot, rated T
Aang is plagued by nightmares, and they get worse after Katara tells him she’s pregnant. Then, meditation brings a shocking surprise.
4.1k words, oneshot, rated G
“Fire is life,” said Zuko.
Aang blinked away Roku’s memory, eyes clear. “Fire leads the spirits home.“
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Or, after the war the Fire Nation offers reparations to the three nations. Aang remembers that there used to be a fourth one.
5.7k words, oneshot, rated G
“Have you ever experienced something so horrible that you can never forget it?” Aang asked, glancing somewhere else other than him. It was said as if with trepidation, a whisper that Hakoda only caught because he was listening.
Hakoda smiled ruefully at him. “I’ve lived my whole life in a war, Avatar. I know exactly what that’s like.”
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Or, Hakoda and Aang form a bond through the years, and rites of passage are only a part of it.
3.7k words, oneshot, rated G
Once, Aang was a tall, rather broad-shouldered man hailing from the Northern Air Temple. He had a tangly beard that reached his midriff, billowing robes that he insisted he wore even though they were out of fashion, calloused hands that were skilled in woodworking, and an unrivaled passion for hot tea on a cool autumn day.
The monks had called him Dorjee, a scepter, a representation of spiritual strength. He first wailed out his presence in the Eastern Air Temple, a newborn with a need to tell the world that he existed. He was told the midwives held him high above his birth mother so that he would touch the rays of sun that streaked through the open window, and that his eyes glowed for just a second into a brilliant blue.
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Or, Aang remembers his people through the lives he’s lived as other Air Nomads. He is the story of a lost culture.
3.9k words, oneshot, rated G
“What are you doing here, Stinky?”
Aang lifted his head, blinking at a rather tall aye-aye that stood on its hind legs, upright and bipedal. Like a human. Its gigantic yellow eyes were boring into him, observing him with outright judgement. It tapped one of its long, spindly fingers on its pointed chin.
“These humans are making you work for it. You should be outside! Enjoying nature! You look like you need a bath too! Did you forget to wash again?”
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Or, the winter solstice causes Aang to be all of his past lives. All at once.
3.8k words, oneshot, rated G
Additional Note: also Sokka-centric
She shook her head. The water splashed back into the bowl. “I’m afraid that everyone will forget about all the selfless things he’s done for us,” she remarked. “He’ll keep doing this for the rest of his life, Sokka. He already ended one-hundred years of war. Don’t you think Aang deserves something in return?”
Sokka pulled his sister toward him until he clasped her in his arms. “You’re right,” he agreed. He let her go and gave her a grin. “I might have an idea.”
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Or, in the days leading up to Zuko’s coronation, Sokka hatches a plan to thank Aang for all he had done for the world. It helps that everyone else is in on it too.
3.6k words, oneshot, rated G
“We are infinite sources of love and healing, Aang. When you are hurting, when things get hard, you must not give into it, but instead let your energy flow down inside your body, and let yourself feel whole. Let yourself forgive. We know this to be true, the same way we know that the wind cannot be contained. The same way we know we are many currents, but we live in one sky. And it’s important to learn, don’t you think?”
One hundred years go by in an iceberg.
Aang wonders, sometimes, if Gyatso knows just how right he was.
1k words, multi-chapter (complete), rated G
The boy was scared.
A month ago, he had been a child playing air ball in the courtyard. Laughing freely with his friends. Being bested at Pai Sho by his cherished mentor. He was a child—in his home, surrounded by his family. He was content, happy, carefree.
Now, he was scared. He had his tattoos and he was the Avatar and he was scared… and they were going to send him away. Away from his home. His friends. His mentor. Away from everything he knew and everyone he loved!
Away.
⇋
OR an exploration of Aang’s thoughts, of Gyatso’s reaction, and of how one hungry lemur changed the history of the world.
133.9k words, multi-chapter (complete), rated T
Additional Note: Kataang, but with a focus on Aang as a character
After breaking up, Aang and Katara go their separate ways. But when unexpected events throw them back together, they have a hard time moving on—even if moving on is what’s best for themselves, and for each other.
Kataang break up with eventual make up. No cheating or dating others. Post-ATLA. COMPLETE
4.2k words, oneshot, rated T
The war is over, and the Gaang gathers for one last time before going their separate ways. Aang struggles with the prospect of losing the only family he has left, but with some help from Iroh and accidental cactus juice shenanigans, he learns that friendships don’t have to end after saying goodbye.
Rated T for accidental Tipsy!Kataang and Tipsy!Maiko.
Written for Kataang Week 2022, Day 4: Drunk Kataang
Katara-centric Fics
20.5k words, oneshot, rated T
“What if… What if I can’t forgive him?” Forgiveness isn’t easy. (And really, who ever said it was?) This fic follows Katara’s emotional journey from the events of “The Western Air Temple” to those of “The Southern Raiders,” as she experiences firsthand both the challenges and rewards of forgiving others (and perhaps even learns to forgive herself along the way).
5.7k words, series, rated T
Sometimes people leave you, halfway through the wood. / Do not let it grieve you. / No one leaves for good. / You are not alone. / No one is alone. / Hold her to the light now, / Let her see the glow. / Things will be alright now. / Tell her what you know.
How are we hurt? How do we heal? Kanna-centric and Katara-centric companion pieces, exploring waterbending a language, the damage of war, and the process of healing.
4.1k words, series, rated G
It’s hard when you can’t remember who you were supposed to be. It’s even harder when the world takes your identity away from you. But maybe those broken pieces can be found again, and even though it will never be what it once was, it’s a start.
We all have to start somewhere.
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Katara, the Southern Water Tribe, colonialism, assimilation, appropriation, and learning how to find her cultural identity once more.
4k words, oneshot, rated G
If there was anything Katara learned from the legends and myths of her tribe, it was that the Avatar is a god. And gods aren’t human. OR: Katara always thought that being the Avatar meant being a god. She learns from Aang that she is wrong. Oneshot.
2.7k words, oneshot, rated G
Scarcity and war can birth traditions of resilience. After the war, Katara struggles to grasp at the deeper meaning of those traditions when she fears they might not have a place anymore.
2.2k words, oneshot, rated T
Katara kills Yon Rha, and deals with the fallout.
45k words, multi-chapter (complete), rated G
Katara is passionate about many things, but when it comes to Aang, even she doesn’t know her own heart. Or, the story of how Aang and Katara got together after the DOBS kiss, told through missing scenes. Katara’s POV.
8.8k words, oneshot, rated T
Katara struggles to heal Aang after he is struck down by lightning. Five times she can never seem to do enough, and one time she discovers she is everything he needs.
Or, the story of how the ordeal of healing Aang almost breaks Katara before she learns how to hope again.
Written for Kataang Week 2022, Day 6: Quiet Moments/Healing Techniques
5.8k words, oneshot, rated G
“Life isn’t fair, Katara,” Sokka had told her once, eyes hard and knowing and caring and real, and she had tasted a challenge on her tongue and decided you couldn’t know unless you tried.
Life has never been fair but Katara will never stop trying to make it so. This is not soft or naive or an illusion of bravery, this is a strength, and it is hers, it is hers, it is hers.
(Team Avatar gets captured, and they escape, and they live. This is how it happens.)
7.7k words, oneshot, rated T
It’s one thing to say you’re ready to forgive someone, and quite another to actually do it.
Katara and Zuko become friends while dealing with the potential end of world. It involves a lot of hiking, shared trauma, and trying to reclaim their childhoods from the grasps of war.
Oh, and the rest of the gaang is there too.
3.2k words, oneshot, rated G
They’re on Ember Island, Sozin’s Comet is coming, and Katara has a lot of thoughts about a lot of things.
(Or: three times Katara feels the weight of war in her lungs, and one time she’s able to let it go.)
11.5k, multichapter (completed), rated T
Hers was a culture of storytelling, of oral tradition that even the children found sacred to their people. It was the waters of their life, the legends and folktales that had to be told because there was no need to write them down when they had their songs and their words.
From the great dancing Southern Lights where the spirits played in the festivals each year, to the Mother of the Ocean who complimented the moon. There were the tales of the folk of the highlands, those who had given themselves into nature and lived as shapeshifting beings that could change from animal to animal. Everything had a spirit, a soul. The weather, the mountainside, the iceberg that bobbed erratically upon the rough waters in the edges of a storm.
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Or, Katara and Aang meet as children, and together they learn to live.
2.3k words, oneshot, rated G
Katara loves her mother with all she has, and that’s why, on the day when the snow falls down dark and ashy from the sky, the first thing she does is run back to the family igloo.
2.8k words, oneshot, rated G
Katara contemplates the various family ties in her life, on a normal and chaotic afternoon with her children. Featuring bickering cloudbabies and impromptu parades and lots and lots of love.
