Truth Is, There Are Only Two Kinds Of Writers: The ‘I Can’t Start Until I Have A Title’ Mess And

Me: ok this part shouldn't be so bad. I know the basics of what I want to happen, so filling in a few details shouldn't take too long

The Details™: you fool

Zuko studies Other styles of Bending to prepare for fighting the Avatar... ends up teaching them to him instead

His father doesn’t even give him the news of the banishment in person.

No, there’s no last meeting between them, no chance for Zuko to have another memory of the man besides the last vivid sight he sees with his left eye before it’s burned: cold eyes and a hot hand reaching towards his face.

Instead, there’s a letter, a scroll written in red ink and curvy letters his father didn’t even bother to write himself and Zuko can’t read because his remaining working eye is still blurry. In the end, it’s Uncle that reads it out to him, his voice steady even as his hands shake when he tells him the terms of his banishment, the words wavering slightly when he gets to the bittersweet part of the promise of his returning honour- but only if he comes back with the avatar in chains.

Uncle’s voice eventually fades to nothing, giving its place to the distant sound of the sea around them he only then picks up (and isn’t it just cruel, how they didn’t even wait for him to wake up before putting him on a ship and sending him away) and there Zuko is, thirteen with only his Uncle for support and with a task most would deem impossible. 

Zuko is a child. He’s scared and in pain and half-blind and half-deaf, but he is also very, very stubborn and doesn’t know when to give up.

He studies. Not just fire styles, but all forms of bendings that there are because he’s going to fight the master of four elements, so wouldn’t it be stupid if he only knows one? He reads waterbending scrolls, goes through katas meant for the rock-hard body of an earthbender; and learns to jump high and take feather light steps that make no sound like a airbender. 

He becomes a sort of master in all. He can’t bend the sea or earth or air to his will, but he learns all their moves. Can go from the fluidity of a river to the steadiness of a mountain, and even let his body move with the freedom of the wind. It’s only then, when his flames are free and fluid and steady all at once; and painted in many colors other than the usual reds and oranges, that he starts to master fire too.

Then, he finds the avatar.

Spirits, He’s a kid. Naive and innocent like he was once, long ago before there was a war room and a scar on his face and only a ship in his command. He’s not even a master of four elements but just an airbender.

That’s when it hits him. 

It’s a 12 year old the fire nation wants dead, another child his father is going to burn and brand and destroy, and that’s the slap he needs to the face, an ice cold blow against the years old burn of his scar that finally wakes him up, and that’s when zuko decides- he’s going to help the avatar. 

he’s going to teach him how to bend but he’s not going to instruct him through just his fire bening- he’s going to help him all three elements he needs to take the firelord down. 

(or AU where Zuko was born in the wrong country, because if he was anything but a firebender, he’d have been a genius on par with Azula.

He still might be. His talent just needs another teaching style before it can bloom.)

+++++

idea for a fic I’ll probably not write… so anyone interested?

Ugh I’m tired of this, Alexa write my fanfic.

Shipping is like

To those who can't watch horror shows

IMPORTANT

@flurbejurbvondurp

There’s a witch in the woods that borders the town. Some say that she seduces men and lures them to their deaths, others say that she steals children from their beds and curses their families. She is feared and hated, though none are brave enough to drive her away, fearing her slyness and great power.

There are many names that the towns folk have for the witch, most being quite harsh in nature. But you know her by a different name.

You’ve seen the witch, with her beauty and wit unmatched. You’ve met her many children, and seen their bright smiles. You’ve seen her great power, and witnessed her strength of mind. And yet you have never been given cause to fear her.

Yes, there’s a witch in the woods. You hope shes here to stay.

It is common knowledge that Edward Elric, the fullmetal alchemist, isn’t completely right in the head.

’ eccentric ’ the kinder ones call him, ‘downright bonkers ’ whisper the not so nice ones.

It doesn’t matter though. Even if edward elric is crazy, even if he sometimes stares at you with his unnerving gold eyes and you can swear he’s going through the ingredients that make up your body in his head, figuring out the best way to break you down and make something entirely new; even if his military file contains a psychological report labeling him as “unstable and highly dangerous”, he’s still edward elric. The child prodigy that passed the state alchemist exam when he was only twelve, the kid that can just clap and use any kind of alchemy he wants, and the military isn’t just going to let him go.

So everyone play it off as more of a joke that an actual issue. “The price of being a genius among prodigies” some say with admiration, “don’t worry about it fullmetal,” the bastard says with a smirk that looks actually a little bit forced, “it could happen to anyone. It’s probably very hard to fit both so much knowledge and common sense inside your small frame.”. “Maybe it’s just too many wrenches to the head,” Al jokes sometimes.

But Ed. Ed knows better. It’s the gate. The thing that cracked him open and shoved the knowledge of the world inside his head not once but twice. The thing that stole both his arm and leg and robbed him of his innocence. It’s the truth and the law of equivalence exchange. All of Al’s body and Ed’s leg to pay for their mother; his arm and sanity for Al’s soul.

It might be for the best anyway. Amestis is on the edge of war, and they could use a fullmetal alchemist that hasn’t got a simple and petty thing as logic to hold him back from doing the impossible.

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