Rachel, 20 year old college student and dedicated Avatar: the Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra fan.
I mostly talk to people and reblog craploads of things. I sometimes write fic or make gifs/graphics. I comment extensively in my tags, and I am prone to headcanon about anything and everything.
I adore worldbuilding, families, and jerkbenders. Commentary and character analyses are my true loves.
Summary: Fourteen years ago, a masked man intercepts a letter to the White Lotus, breaks into the home of a young Water Tribe couple, and leaves with their only daughter. Now, she is seventeen, a youth in the spring of awakening. (An Equalist!Korra AU).
| Family, drama, angst, throw in some romance | T on the edge of M | ~7,300 |
| ff.net | Prologue | Chp. 1 | Chp. 2 | Chp. 3 | Chp. 4 | Chp. 5 | Chp. 6
A/N: I PROMISED AN UPDATE AND YOU HAVE YOUR UPDATE. this chapter has asami and firebending and amon cussing and bolin being a cheeky little brat and the inklings of schemes and counter-schemes and strategy, pay no attention to the characters behind the curtain, amon’s red sun rises across the dawn of war
[CHAPTER 6]
I. SECRETS
He is still seems broken with despondence, beaten under a grey sullen guilt, but only until Noatak says stand up, be strong for your brother - and then Mako responds like the words are his own name, a child to their father, a spirit of kindling to a spark of prayer. Mako shoulders Bolin’s weight and lifts him to his feet, his eyes relit with a gold-struck determination. The way he stands, a wide, squared stance, is full of a bracing, cool pride; and Korra wonders where he got the willpower to do it, how he made lightning after nine days deep underground, away from the sun. Her eyes fall on Bolin, who groans in a low tone as he slumps against Mako; he gives her a feeble, sunny smile and she stops wondering.
“Training starts tomorrow. For now, you’re going back to your cells,” Noatak says, and Mako’s face turns calm and still.
“I’m gonna stay with my brother,” he says, in an unwavering voice, and Noatak frowns; “I have to take care of him.”
“That’s totally fine, go ahead,” Korra tells him, before Noatak can say anything, because she likes Mako better like this…. she doesn’t want to think about Mako alone with this fresh regret, breaking himself down on fever dreams in an electrified darkness. His only response is to dip his head, slightly; and then to hitch Bolin up more securely and wait until Noatak marches towards the far door, the crate of food in arm.
Flawlessness in a fic right here. Ugh there is so much good in this, I don’t even know where to start.
Summary: Lin and Mako’s relationship while working on the police force.
Pairing: none
Rating: K+
Notes: I wrote this instead of the next chapter of NCITW, gomen but not gomen.
***
Mist hits Lin’s face in the crisp fall air, freezing like pinpricks of needles catching against her skin. It wafts over the street on a harsh breeze, where the waterbending force is trying to tame a fire hydrant a moving van demolished moments earlier. It spits a cold puddle of water over the black asphalt where countless numbers of flowers lay scattered, stems broken, petals mangled and colors turned murky under fast footsteps. Right by her, a flower shop has a motorcycle where a front window should be, and a fire simmers on a window box full of baby’s breath.
It’s a hell hole. Her officers, civilians, and criminals all move around her like street grit swept up in the current of a storm drain. They swirl and pool against the damage in the street, while she remains steadfast, letting the scene wash over her. The sky overhead is grey, the mist mingles in the air with the cindered heads of baby’s breath flowers, and when she turns to survey the fires, they are dying.
Officer Mako, sitting on the checkered floor inside of the shop where the EMTs fuss over him, is lowering his outstretched arms towards his stomach. The shop owners ohh and ahh and talk to him with kind smiles.
Lin steps inside over flowers and crunching glass, hands fisted on her hips where the metal of her uniform is frigid against her knuckles. Mako tips his head up even though a healer is trying to wrap a bandage around it; a halo for the savior of the shop.
“Officer Mako, a word?” she says.
In the process of flying into the sun. Please come back at another time for increased coherency.
Title: The Last Will and Testament of Avatar Aang
Summary: I, Avatar Aang of Air Temple Island, Yue Bay, Republic City, declare this my Last Will and Testament.
Genre: General
Rating: G
Word Count: 800~
Date Posted: October 10, 2012
WARNINGS: Implied character death for… well, the obviousHere on ff.net | Here on AO3 | or click “Read More” to read here on Tumblr
…
Summary: High school AU fic, complete with Mako is slightly illiterate, wrestling team (sorry Sam :c), tutoring, and language bending.
Pairing: Makorra
Rating: UH K+ :|
Notes: I had Korra be the master of languages rather than the master of the elements just because I like the idea that Mako and Bolin immigrated to the U.S. from Hong Kong and they’re half Chinese, half Japanese while Korra is Inuit and from Alaska.
***
The first time she sees him is at some illegal fight in the school parking lot - a fight club, named after some movie she’s never seen. He moves in tight swings and pivots, eyes flickering but steady, like the flame on a candle that burns upright and steadfast on a secure wick. He has the fight three moves in and the other guy goes down against the pavement to a bellow of cheers, whistles, and claps. She sees a crinkled stack of bills shoved into his hand before his brother is asking her what she thinks of Republic City High School.
Mako is a fighter, like her. But the fight club is all boys so only afterwards, when she leans against the beat up truck in the parking lot with Bolin, is the moment she can prove it. She play fights with Bolin and sneaks in a painful jab to his ribs, and Bolin laughs it off.
Mako just frowns and says, “Not bad. C’mon Bo, it’s getting late and we have work before class tomorrow.”
—-
MASTERPIECE. THIS IS A PERFECT HSAU. Give me your talent, Hannah.
Title: a lack of color
Summary: She thinks of bedtime stories by dim lamplight, of driving lessons, of all-nighters spent in his office, poring over new Satomobile designs. She thinks of a jade hairpin and his gentle hands fixing it to her hair. She thinks of her father, and it’s then that she realizes that he is not the man slumped in the wrecked mecha-tank in front of her.
Rating: K+
Pairing/Characters: Asami Sato, Hiroshi Sato, slight Bosami
Words: 2,000+
Notes: I wrote this for Dicey as a bribe so she’ll watch Brotherhood. I reallyreally like how this came out. Asami bb ur my forever gurl.
To read on Tumblr click Read More, or read it on ff.net.——
Asami is five and her mother is brushing her hair. Dad is holed up in his office again, poring over new Satomobile designs, probably unaware that it’s dark outside and he missed dinner.
Her mother gently runs the brush through her hair, humming softly. She sighs. “Your hair is so lovely, Asami,” she says, almost wistfully.
Alarmed at her tone, Asami sits up straighter, scrambling onto her knees and turning around to face Mom, her small hands fisting in the soft fabric of her mother’s skirt. “Yours is too, mama,” she says reassuringly, green eyes wide.
Her mother’s smile is almost as warm as her hand when she touches her daughter’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Dad is busy but Mom is here, and for now it is enough.
ALSDJFALSDJFA;L so this is amazing.
Summary: Mako finds work with the Triple Threats.
Rating: T
Word Count: 9,049
Chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 |
Warnings: child abuse, violence, general nastiness
Notes: Aha remember this yeah sometimes I forget it too sORRY. Title name comes from the song Mannish Boy by Muddy Waters
***
On Tuesday evenings, after his feet were dry and cracked from his early shift running the rickshaw through the Financial District, after his pockets were stuffed and hollowed out, after the front porch lights were lit, Mako had friends.
The Triple Threat headquarters was located in the Leather District. A halo of ochre light spilled from under the eaves of the front door, where red paper lanterns were strung, golden dragons twisting atop the roof cutting into the purple night. It clashed violently with the uniform brick buildings where the acrid smells of tanning chemicals wafted in the air.
Two men were always standing guard outside the front doors, and they tugged them open for Mako instantly.
He let his eyes wander around the large room, staring up at the multiple tiers where men leaned over the railings with women, to other members sitting in the corners, stitching themselves together with tissues plugging their bloody noses. The lights were always dimmed, each reflective surface of pilfered silver watches and jade pendant necklaces and sapphire rings flashing gold with each shift of the wrist. A phonograph sang with a gritty smoker’s voice near the pool table. It was slightly different now, dripping with garlands and flashy floral centerpieces, all for the spring solstice. Those members of the Earth Kingdom were swathed in silks of green and tan.
HANNAH. You really are me. You are me, because holy crap I see so many of my headcanons in here, it’s not even funny.
If you’re not reading this, you should be!
Summary: Fourteen years ago, a masked man intercepts a letter to the White Lotus, breaks into the home of a young Water Tribe couple, and leaves with their only daughter. Now, she is seventeen, a youth in the spring of awakening. (An Equalist!Korra AU).
| Family, drama, angst, throw in some romance | T | ~5,200 |
| ff.net | Prologue | Chp. 1 | Chp. 2 | Chp. 3
A/N: AMON IS A TERRIBLE HUMAN BEING, WOW. Trigger warnings for violence, explicit and implied.
(also p.s. it gets happier after this chapter, i swear)[Chapter 3]
I. Surprises
Korra spreads her hands flat on the wood, gripping the edge of the table with her thumbs, eyes narrowed at Bolin and Mako. They are clear across the restaurant, in a booth under a Water Tribe flag, ruffled and loose, full of scruffy, second-hand street charm. They didn’t see her walk in, engrossed as they are in their bowls of noodles; she sidles into a seat and tugs her gloves off with her teeth. She’s annoyed with them, almost angry - why did they have to be found so easily? Didn’t they know they had to run? She makes a moue at the menu, sliding quickly down the words, barely reading.
She glances over the top of the menu at Bolin, who doesn’t look all the worse for wear after being held captive for two days; he’s slurping up seaweed noodles with unbridled enthusiasm, jabbing and drawing in the air with his chopsticks, talking with his mouth full. There’s a fire ferret curled on his shoulders and he reaches back to set it on the table, offer it a tidbit… Mako says something and Bolin laughs easily, closing his eyes and letting his mirth roll and tumble from his mouth, head tilted back. You have a nice smile, he said, and she smiles now.
Holy crap, Francesca. HOLY CRAP.
Summary: Fourteen years ago, a masked man intercepts a letter to the White Lotus, breaks into the home of a young Water Tribe couple, and leaves with their only daughter. Now, she is seventeen, a youth in the spring of awakening. (An Equalist!Korra AU).
| Family, drama, angst, throw in some romance | T | ~5,200 |
| ff.net | Prologue | Chp. 1 |
A/N: Ouch.
[Chapter Two]I. Combat
You’re a bully.
No, it’s not bullying to cleanse, to equalize, to gut Bolin of his bending, cleanly and bloodlessly. The only thing bending brings is suffering. So Korra takes a step towards Bolin, and then another. He winces widely, tapping the tips of his fingers together; he looks peaky, sweating under the spotlight. She’s not sorry. Tenchu toys with her food before she eats it, stalking and predatory.
“Uhm… hello, Tenchu, miss? I still think there’s been a… big… misunderstanding,“ he babbles.
She won’t hesitate. She can’t. She takes another step, rolling off her heel; she is dense with power, she is doing what needs to be done, for the sake of equality, freedom, herself –
If you are not reading this, you should be. THIS STORY IS AMAZING AND HOW FRANCESCA DOES IT I DON’T KNOW, BUT EVERYTHING HERE IS GOOD.
Korra, baby, the elements’ call is part of you! The Avatar’s city is your city as well! I hope that you see that because aslkdfa;jslkfdj;ldfkjsad;lfkajdslkjsafl.
Summary: Korra returns to Republic City to deal with the aftermath of Amon’s Revolution while life continues as usual for the triads.
Rating: T
*****
Korra realises, soon after she returns to Republic City, that the place never really was the centre of peace and balance after all.
It’s all right for the first few nights, when Tenzin allows Korra a few days to settle back into city life—or at least Air Temple Island life, as they decide it’s best to keep her arrival secret until they are ready to announce her ability to return bending to the entire city. Korra slips out of her room after evening meals to head barefoot down to the ferry (it’s hot now in the spring, hotter than she’s ever experienced in the South Pole), and Tenzin lets her go even when she doesn’t return until long after hours when the air acolytes in the dormitories have already called a lights out. Sometimes he even watches out the window of the bedroom he shares with Pema and Rohan: two dark figures along the shore, the melding of shadows and the barks of laughter that Korra makes only half-hearted attempts to hide.
Tenzin doesn’t even hint to Korra that he knows about her poorly-hidden nighttime walks with Mako on the shore. When Pema asks, Tenzin responds, “The life of the Avatar is never easy, and things will always be changing. For now, she should take in the moments that she can.”
(He remembers, even when he was still an airbender in training, how often his father was called out of the South Pole. He remembers, when he was old enough to do so, noticing the shadows under Aang’s eyes, the way Katara would touch his cheek and give him a smile Tenzin didn’t understand then, urge him every night to come to sleep. He remembers one of the few times he ever heard Aang raise his voice: “There isn’t a right choice here, Sokka, but I have to make the right one anyway.”)
On the day Korra makes her announcement before City Hall, she’s nearly bursting with energy, fidgeting as Bei Fong is reinstated as chief of police, turning from camera to camera, voice proud as she proclaims to the city that she will save it and restore the balance that Amon tipped from the scales of Republic life. And for a while, she still feels the the glow of her newfound power, the initial rush of returning the lifeblood to the men and women who lost their bending to Amon, that energy remains; and Tenzin wonders if he was simply too pessimistic, and that Korra is going to be all right.
Oh my, THIS IS EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED?! You address the issues between benders and non-benders perfectly. Excellent work, simply excellent.
Rating: NC-17 (smut)
Word Count: 7,500
Summary: Deep down he wants her to push him away because it’s easier that way, but he knows she won’t. It’s not in her nature. Through the good times and the bad they have come to trust one another, depend on one another. How can he so easily turn himself away from all of that? How can he turn himself away from her?
Notes: Originally posted on ff.net & AO3 22 April 2012.
blackbird singing in the dead of night
take these broken wings and learn to fly
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to ariseShe’s leaving tomorrow.
The news blindsides him like a sucker-punch to the kidneys and he’s left reeling, gasping for air. A sort of panic spreads through his body like a rumour, and he doesn’t know what to say or do—he never does in times like these. He’s never been the kind of person to allow others to get close, to miss people when they’re gone. But now he’s gone and done it: he’s allowed Korra inside and now she’s leaving him behind.
The sensation is foreign yet all too familiar and Mako’s rendered speechless, afraid to trust his own words should he speak. He guards his features well and abruptly turns, leaving Bolin and Korra behind at the bar. The night air blasts him in the face and he takes in a deep breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he ambles his way back to the tower loft.
The city streets are all but empty in the muggy darkness with people keeping cautiously to the walls and paved walkways, avoiding the narrow alleyways. Street lights flicker above him as the wind begins to pick up, lashing at his face and lifting his scarf in the air before he slips inside the entrance to the gym and nimbly climbs the tower stairs.
Once inside the loft, Mako opens one of the high-vaulted windows and seats himself on the ledge, taking in the view below. Though it is night the sky shines with a sea of colours reflecting from the buildings’ lights, and the waxing moon above seems to catch like a white banner in the breeze as a long trail of clouds sweeps across it.
He loves this city and hates it all at once. Letting out a laboured sigh, he directs his gaze southward across the sea. The temple island is a small glittering of light in the distance, like a low, fading star. He imagines Korra heading back there tonight, to pack and get ready for the next rung in her journey as the Avatar.
Now there’s nothing left to worry about he tells himself. With Korra out of his life he can begin focussing on what matters again—how to make his life with his brother better. But trying to forget Korra is easier said than done; and people aren’t things that he can force from his mind no matter how hard he tries.
