talentlesstoaster:

Awesome~

“Our strength comes from the Spirit of the Moon. Our life comes from the Spirit of the Ocean. They work together to keep balance”

thelionturtles:

a:tla challenge → day 05 : least second favorite character

katara

delirious-bitter-gardens:

30 More Awesome Ladies, Day Ten - Mai

nightkinks:

hanasaku-shijin:

viria:

dishonor on my COW?

ahahah Zuko this might have been the worst for you

it’s ridiculous how long and how eagerly I’ve been waiting for this to show up

YEEEEEES

And then I tearbended.

thegreatestearthbender:

Like mother, like daughter.

(Re)incarnate 

Having a grumpy day, so the solution is to create! A Korra drabble exploring my ongoing fascination with Aang’s presence in Republic City, and how current Avatars relate to their predecessors. Because the idea of how different or similar they are and aren’t and relating to people that knew both and all that kind of thing just FASCINATES ME. SO MUCH. It’s like CATNIP. And I can’t really meta so I drabble instead.

If you would like to prompt me for any Korra drabbles this evening, I would be very happy indeed!

—-

Korra does not need to meditate to feel Aang’s presence- the spirit of the former Avatar has surrounded her all her life, as constant as the sun and just as dazzling.

In this city, she wakes from dreams that are hardly ever her own- instead at night she dreams of flying over strange upside-down temples that hang like bats under cliffs, of the sky raining fire and conquerors on their knees. When Korra sleeps, she relinquishes the present and surrenders to the past, to the thousand lives she has lived and remembers only in dreams.

She spends her days in the house that Aang built to watch over the city that he founded, sits in his place at the table, treads in his footsteps along the paths that Aang traced out for his growing family. Sometimes, Tenzin or Lin or Tarrlok will look at her expectantly, a silence awaiting some kind of response, a script she cannot follow. Republic City has an Avatar-shaped space, she finds, but it is not waiting for her. Instead Korra constantly feels as if she has walked into a room that Aang just left, the air still warm with his presence, the ghost of his words hanging in the silence she needs to fill.

Korra only stops feeling this uncanny familiarity when she is in the bending arena- another reason to spend far more time than she should there.

In a back room on Air Temple Island, Korra finds a necklace made of yellowed string and dried flowers. It’s small, but well-crafted, and it’s been placed in a box with the obvious intention of keeping it forever. When Korra touches it, the petals crumble under her fingers and she feels a sudden, stifling weight, the air thick in her lungs. History pulls back, and Korra is left afraid and exhilarated with a feeling that has her buzzing for hours afterwards.

(Once, Aang placed his foot inside a boot that was far too large, daubed his face with paint in a style a thousand years old, and felt that selfsame familiar thrill.)