Since The Legend of Korra just arrived on Netflix, I’ve seen a resurgence of hatred/disdain for Mako, a prominent member of Team Avatar, Bolin’s brother, and both Korra and Asami’s previous love interest. So in honor of my boy Mako I’ve decided to start a new series called “In Defense Of”. Here we go!
So to jump right into it, let’s break down some of the main reasons why people don’t like Mako:
1. His relationship with Korra/with Asami
I’ll be honest, Mako definitely could’ve handled both of these relationships better. But guess what? He was 17/18 years old. Teenagers make a lot of mistakes when dating, and Mako was definitely not a good partner to either Korra or Asami. However, I don’t think this means he’s a horrible irredeemable person. I do agree that he did Asami dirty, but as for Korra, she definitely contributed equally as much to their relationship problems, and it’s frustrating to see that be left out of the conversation about Mako. The two of them just weren’t a good match, they realized that, and then broke up. I actually really enjoyed their (second) breakup scene because of how healthy and real it was.
Something else people never talk about is how gracefully Mako became friends with both Korra and Asami after their breakups, and how well he took them dating each other (in the comics, anyway). Not to mention, hating Mako as a character just because you like Korrasami makes no sense to me at all. I love Korrasami as a ship and I love Mako too, because he’s very supportive of them together as well as proof that it’s possible for exes to stay friends. Also, Korra and Asami are bisexual and just because you hate Mako doesn’t mean you can erase their bisexuality, thank u
2. The fact that he’s a cop
Listen, I hate that Mako was a cop too. But if you think about it, his situation is actually pretty realistic and I don’t think it should be held against him as a character. Mako is an orphan who quite literally grew up on the streets and had to raise his little brother while also providing the both of them with food and shelter. Mako’s situation of growing up in poverty and then being pushed into a job like policing/the military is eerily similar to how some poor young men are encouraged to join the army/police force in the US. If you’re American you can agree that this kind of indoctrination is very common, and that’s what Mako being a cop felt like to me: he thought this would be the best way to get himself out of a shitty situation. I understand that this is a touchy topic and I get why people hate Mako because of it, but I don’t necessarily think it should be a slight against his character as much as it is an inherent flaw with TLOK as a whole that the police force is so heavily featured.
3. His personality (???)
For some reason, people just don’t like that Mako is serious/grumpy. But wanna know why he is that way? Trauma. People love to compare Mako to Bolin, and how Bolin is so much more fun and bubbly, but Bolin wouldn’t be able to be the way he is if Mako wasn’t so ‘serious’. It’s often brushed over by the series and the fanbase, but do people understand how much of a traumatic childhood these two had? They lost their parents, and then became homeless. That is traumatizing for any kid but as the oldest child, forced to take responsibility, you don’t think that might have a little extra impact? Mako is a great brother to Bolin and practically had to become his father figure as well, not unlike Katara’s situation with Sokka (though that was gender roles at play, not birth order). Also, frankly, I kind of liked Mako’s more stern personality type because guess what, people are like that sometimes. Not everyone can be funny and happy-go-lucky like Bolin, and that’s okay.
Obviously, this post isn’t going to change any minds. If you hate Mako for the reasons above or for any other reasons, you hate Mako and that’s totally fine, I’m not trying to argue! If you do want to add something or disagree, I’m cool with that too, I just like my page to stay polite and positive. These are just my personal thoughts, and why I disagree with these specific points. I think it’s a lot cooler to aggressively like something than it is to hate something, so that’s kinda my goal with this series. Thanks for reading,
poc zutara shippers get a lot of hate on twitter. someone told me that I must support cultural erasure and genocide as if the british didn’t kill millions of my people
Yo what the fuck? I’m so sorry that happened to you :(
TW: Racism, Colonization, and Genocide
A:tLA Twitter is mostly composed of Gen Z kids who want to sound like they’re college educated with a Ph.D. in wokeness; they just use fancy shmancy political terms to cover up the fact that they have no valid points. Most of the people I’ve seen explaining why they are @nti Zutara use terms that are not even valid or applicable to the context. When they have a POC on their side, they use that person as a shield to our arguments and call us racist/oppressor sympathizers/other nasty names when we try to explain that you cannot just throw around words like “colonizer” and “war criminal” like they’re candy. As a Punjabi/Sikh person, people calling Zuko a colonizer is so disgusting to me, there is no way he is like the Brutish who came into India and tortured and killed my ancestors when they were fighting against oppression. Yes, I understand that you cannot compare politics easily, but the Fire Nation did do similar things to the other nations, and I think my feelings are still valid.
I think people need to realize that just because one individual in a minority group says that they have an issue with a ship, doesn’t mean that shipping it = hating all members of that group/advocating for oppression. Not all minorities have the same shipping preferences (I genuinely don’t understand how this is so hard for them to grasp, but here we are…), and just because one member says that they think it’s problematic doesn’t mean that everyone agrees. This is NOT to invalidate them, they have every right to explain why they don’t ship Zutara and think it is bad, but many of the arguments I have seen them use are not applicable to the actual relationship or context. Most @ntis in the resurgence are obsessed with the political implications of every. little. thing. It is so weird to me, like I have literally seen antis deconstruct the falling rock scene in TSR and call Zuko “oppressive” for having his arm around Katara 😭
And of course, there are racist ways of shipping/interpreting Zutara, but 99% of Zutara shippers do NOT do that. Katara’s empowerment is at the core of Zutara, and our fandom has done almost nothing but worship her and make sure that she is given power in fanon, something that she most definitely did not get in canon. When we headcanon Fire Lady Katara, we aren’t putting her on the throne and wanting her to “ruLe tHe cOunTry tHaT mUrdEreD hEr mOtheR!!1!!1!” – it’s so much more complicated than that?? And with Zuko, we give him someone who is fully aware that he has done bad things, and has even hurt her personally, but also knows he is a good person and will do everything he can to prove himself as a champion for change. We give him someone who has been incredibly hurt by the Fire Nation but knows that he is not solely responsible for her family’s suffering and trauma, and forgives and accepts him by herself. I mean… that was all canon.
Also, it’s not like Bryke had perfect worldbuilding. There are so many sociopolitical issues in the show, issues that Asian and indigenous people have pointed out and criticized because of their insensitivity. There are sooo many holes in fabric of Fire Nation politics, and they can’t just be easily patched up by “Zuko is a good 16 year old boy who can rule an entire nation by himself !! <33″ Not to mention the appropriation and romanticization of the actual Tibetan genocide, random mixing of very different Asian and indigenous cultures, and the weak writing of dark-skinned characters, specifically women (Katara post-AtLA, Hama, Korra, Kanna [fuck P*kku], etc.)
So, what we’re working with when it comes to politics and representation is already pretty shitty, and I blame most of it on the two weeaboo white men who created the show! They created such a toxic fanbase of people who worship them like gods, people who take what they slapped together and called “representation” as the best thing that has happened on kids’ TV in years. I am not going to invalidate any Asian/indigenous fan who feels like they did truly get representation, you are all still very much valid and I am not trying to take your happiness away. I, too, believe that A:tLA is a very iconic show, and of course I’m still a fan. However, you have to dig deeper and look at what the show really is, because when you do, it ain’t pretty.
Anyways, if @ntis knew anything about the Zutara fandom, they might look at us differently. If they knew that a majority of us are LGBTQ+/POC/women whose families have been oppressed for generations and know very well the effects of colonization, genocide, and war crimes, maybe they would keep their racism hidden for longer…
The crowd gathered makes maneuvering around to the ballroom a chore, but he reacts quickly with a few muttered apologies to anyone he brushes past. The packed, rowdy bar comes into view a few feet away.
The young, broody firebender takes a step and the distance becomes miles; leagues; until the bar is an ocean’s length away.
The band stops except for the drummer playing a steady rhythm. It climbs to a racing tempo. Faster. Wilder. The pounding drums vibrate in Mako’s ribcage, rising to lodge itself in his throat.
Another step and everyone disappears.
No one exists, but him… and the girl at the bar.
No words.
No thoughts.
His breathing uneven as the world falls to nothing more than her.
No! I’m not doing this again. I don’t have time for dating, he mentally chastises himself, but his body betrays him. He can’t turn away; locked on her.
Young. His age, maybe. She has to be to pull off that dress. A floor-length satin gown in a rosy cream color with intricate ivory crystals; colors paler in contrast to the hints of warm tan skin. Lacy long sleeves with a high neck and dangerously low open back. His eyes trace the soft curve of her exposed shoulder blades and his mouth dries up like he sucked on a pair of cotton socks.
She’s short-too short to get noticed by a couple of big wigs and she darts to avoid being sandwiched between. Her little bounce to get noticed by a bartender causes a ripple in her gown that pulls the fabric tight around her healthy waist and generous hips.
For a shameful moment, Mako wonders if she’s wearing the strappy heels with the ribbon around the ankles that he likes. Heat crawls up his neck and face. Damnit...
A giddy reporter doesn't notice the girl and she gets shoved to the floor with a furious pout. Blame it on biology or his deep-rooted need to be a protector, but Mako jumps in to rescue the damsel-in-distress. Cool-under-fire. He bends a knee to help her up. “Excuse me, Miss, are you alright?”
“Mako? I didn’t think you’d be here.” Asami’s voice behind him brings him to a halt.
The dream girl turns her face in his direction. Her annoyed, puffy cheeked pout fades.
What. The. Fuck.
“H-hanai?!”
"Expecting somebody else?" she asks then stands to fix her gown. The bartender leaves a dark whiskey on the glass top that she grabs and brushes past a paralyzed Mako without a second glance. That's... impossible. There's no way! She's so... beautiful-No! What the fuck is wrong with me?! This is Hanai! S-she can't look like that! Or so he tries to convince himself.
But his traitorous body turns as Hanai joins Asami standing with Mr. Guo. She hands her father the drink and takes a flute of champagne from a passing platter that she sips while trying her best to avoid the firebender’s extremely obvious and extremely rude open-mouthed gawking.
“Mako, did you hear what I said?” Asami asks him concerned.
“No,” he whispers, then clears his throat but chokes. Mr. Guo holds out his whiskey, but Mako flails his hand to deny it. “I-I’m fine, thanks! What, uh, what did you say Asami?!”
“You hate events like this. Did Korra invite you and Bolin?” The heiress looks over the people to try and find his brother or Korra.
“Uh, yeah.” His eyes linger on her friend quietly sipping her drink. Greedy blazing eyes etch every unnoticed feature onto his brain like a red hot brand. Her affectionate doll-like face with an adorable stubby nose and wide cheekbones. The deep arch in the bow of her top lip and the softness of the plump bottom. And those eyes...
Her father pulls his focus away as he says, “the city is in a buzz about the Avatar’s daring infiltration of the rally. It’s difficult to believe Amon is capable of such terrifying power. I am relieved your brother was not harmed and for not believing your claims of his kidnapping, my daughter and I owe you both and the Avatar our sincerest apologies.”
The businessman’s daughter looks up at Mako and for the first time in years, the cool-under-fire pro-bender is anything but.
Daunting storm clouds gather in the depths of guarded slate blue eyes. Gentle chestnut waves fall over one of her shoulders as she copies her father’s low bow. Dark lashes fan wide cheekbones from her lowered gaze.
Mako clears his throat without embarrassing himself this time and says, “I don’t blame either of you for it. No one knew what they were planning, but thankfully we got away safely.”
"Shadows of a Legacy” Ch 8 Snippet - Korra x Asami
For the next hour or so, Councilman Tarrlok steers Korra around to meet several important movers and shakers; industrialists, entertainers, politicians. Every last one tripping over themselves to impress the Avatar and have their names remembered. Several in awe at her bravery for infiltrating an Equalist rally. Try as she might give credit to Mako and Bolin, the brothers' involvement was merely waved off as sidekick assistance. The councilman continues to guide her around the gala at dizzying speeds. There are too many names and faces to try to remember. None truly worthy of memory so far until he turns her around towards a pair of goddesses.
An older woman with the type of beauty and grace ancient men started wars over and a younger one; a near mirror image of the other, but less absorbed in the attention of bowing and gushing guests. Luxurious, modelesque figures dressed in modern style gowns in dark shades of reds and pinks. Twin porcelain powered faces highlighted with darkly stained lips the colors of crushed berries. Their finely sculpted high-blood facial features are framed by hair darker than the blackest Southern night sky, Korra half expects a streak of constellations to dance between the curls.
Geez with looks like that, why should the rest of us have bothered dressing up? As if she needs another hit to her decreasing self-confidence, Korra realizes one of them is Asami.
“Korra,” Tarrlok says, “it is my pleasure to introduce to the beloved wife and daughter of Republic City's most famous industrialist, Yasuko Sato, and Asami Sato."
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sato, and actually, Asami and I have already met a few times,” Korra says with a cheerful grin.
“You look great Korra,” Asami says and smiles at her.
When Korra was a little girl, her mother used to say, 'the best way to know if someone is genuinely happy is if their eyes smile when they do. It’s how you know they mean it.'
Something about Asami's eyes makes her want to hide away with her tail tucked between her legs as if someone shouldn’t be that happy to see her; not when she's done nothing to deserve it.
“I-thanks,” Korra says with an awkward crooked grin, “you two look...wow, amazing! I...sort of... feel out of place.”
“Oh, nonsense, you look appropriate,” Mrs. Sato’s breathy laugh could bring men to their knees. “You know my daughter had much to say about your daring rescue for your friend.”
“Really?” Korra asks, surprised. “Well, she was supposed to help us, but the driver came to get her.”
Asami’s eyes wide-eyed as her mother arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow and says, “oh...I see. Well, regardless, we're all expecting great things from you.”
At the reminder that she has yet to accomplish anything worthy of the Avatar's title, Korra meekly replies, “Right….greatness…”
Mrs. Sato bows to her before inclining her head to Asami then walking away. Her daughter follows like a disobedient child about to be scolded.
Korra whispers, “Did I just get you in trouble?!”
“I don’t know,” Asami stops to whisper back. “My mother isn’t a fan of me doing anything remotely adventurous .”
“I am so sorry!” she groans and grimaces.
Asami waves her concern aside with a gentle smile, “It’s okay.”
Korra twists her hands over the fabric of her dress as she walks towards her mother. To add insult to injury, her current number one fan passes by. “Chief Beifong!" Tarrlok gestures to her. "I believe you and Avatar Korra have already met.”
“Shadows of a Legacy” Ch 6 Snippet - Mako x OC Slow Burn
MAKO
Later that night, lying awake in his loft, Mako thinks about the lunch at the diner. More specifically, he thinks about Hanai. The vicious words she used to cut into him and Korra. Her icy glare whenever he spoke. The twitch in her brow and the smug grin half-hidden behind her drink whenever Bolin and Asami said something to embarrass him. He flips over on the lumpy mattress and tries to fall asleep. But she won’t leave his head. It doesn’t matter; he has team practice in the morning to focus on. However, that doesn’t stop the thoughts of her from returning while he straps on his gear.
Her annoyed, puffy cheeked pout when he spun around to chew her out for tripping him. The dimple near the corner of her mouth when she ugly laughed that made his stomach tie in knots. A sharp pain aches his heart. The same way it did when he saw her and froze.
What the hell was that? Wait-why the fuck does it matter?! She's still a stuck-up, know-it-all bitch, who cares if she got... cute?
A word he would have never used to describe her before. Thankfully, Bolin comes down from the apartment the same time Korra surfs in through the window and he doesn’t have to think about it.
"You do know there's a front door, right?" his brother smirks at her.
She grumbles something incomprehensible and stomps over to gear up then joins them for warm-ups.
Korra catches the medicine ball and groans, "What's the big idea with making me train this early in the morning?" She bends her elbows to toss the ball to Bolin and dips her voice. "The morning is evil."
Bolin catches it and shrugs. "We're the rookies so we get the worst time slot in the gym."
Mako huffs as it gets passed to him. "And you're the rookiest of us all. We gotta get you up to speed if you want to survive in the tournament." He tries to push away intruding thoughts from his mind and accidentally tosses the ball back to Korra with unnecessary roughness. "Deal with it!"
"You deal with it!" She tosses the ball back to him, and he's knocked completely off his feet.
He lands skidding on his back. Don't. Say. Anything. She's the Avatar and she will kill you.
“There are my little hardworking street urchins.”
Mako picks himself up as Butakha strolls in and introduces himself to Korra, then he replaces his hat and reaches into his coat for a fat stack of Republic City yuans he hands to a grinning Mako. “Here's your winnings from the last match.”
Perfect, a few more wins and we can get out of-
“Ah-ah! Not so fast,” Butakha wags his thick sausage finger at him. “First, you owe me for the Avatar's new gear-” a few bills disappeared from the top “-gym and equipment rentals for last month.”
Mako reaches for his pocket, but the slimy coordinator stops him, takes payment for rent and a new, new to him at least, personal loan for groceries. He’s left empty-handed and snaps an angry pout at his little brother. “A grocery loan?”
“What?” Bolin shrugs and rubs his stomach. “I'm a growing boy!”
“Oh! And one more small item of business. The Fire Ferrets need to ante up thirty thousand yuans for the Championship pot,” Butahka adds nonchalantly.
“Thirty thousand yuans!?”
“Sorry, kids. You've got till the end of the week to come up with the dough, or else, you're out of the tournament.” He pats Mako on the shoulder, then leaves the gym.
Bolin cranes his head in Korra’s direction. “You wouldn't happen to have a secret Avatar bank account, overflowing with gold, would you?”
Her mouth twists into an awkward grimace as she turns her pockets inside out to show that they're empty. “I got nothing. I've never really needed money. I've always had people taking care of me.”
“Then I wouldn't say you have nothing,” Mako says in an indifferent tone. He picks up the medicine ball and packs it into an equipment bag.
“Sorry, I didn't mean…”
“No, it's alright,” Bolin says with a meek smile. “It's just... ever since we lost our parents, we've been on our own.”
“I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”
Mako zips the bag and throws it over his shoulder. “So anyway, I can see if I can pull a double at the plant if you two keep up with drills.”
“Oh oh or I've been thinking I could maybe see if any of the construction sites need a cleanup crew!” Bolin claps.
“I thought construction companies only wanted metalbenders?” Korra asks.
“Yeah, but they hire regular earthbenders to clean up after jobs when the metalbenders are too tired.”
Mako sighs, “you tried that once and got fired because you made Pabu a mini Republic City. Come on, Bolin, be serious.”
Bolin lowers his gaze and brings Pabu close to his body. “I was serious…”
“Don't worry. I'll take care of it.”
His supervisor allows him to take the extra shift but says it will reach his limit for overtime the owner is willing to pay this month. It might be enough to complete the thirty thousand needed for the pot if he adds all of their savings to it. With Korra on the team, they might have a better chance to win this year. It’s another year of being stuck in the attic if they don’t.
Mako leaves his jacket and scarf in the employee locker room and grabs a thick leather protective apron, rubber gloves, and a forging mask. He and the other lightning generating firebenders line up to enter a large open factory floor with several ceiling-high electrical capacitors in the middle of the room. Pairs of firebenders and earthbenders manipulate flames and coal into roaring boilers while the lightning generators file into single strip rows on both sides of the machines.
He stands in front of his station, his partner on the other side who waits for his green light. A few of the council issued “morale” posters reflect on the glass visor of his mask. Pin-up girls clad in all types of risque swimsuits riding giant bolts of lighting. Showgirls clutching onto dim-witted, grinning Lees snapping lighting from their fingertips. All with slogans like: “The City needs it’s Lightning Champs” or “Dames love a Man with a Spark”. Bullshit, it’s all propaganda...
His station light shines red and his partner charges up his hands then releases his bolt. Mako inhales through his nose and on the exhale he points his index and middle fingers together to launch his. Now his partner. Then back to him.
Inhale. Charge.
Exhale. Release.
Back and forth for hours, passing the whistle for lunch and the whistle for shift change. He gets a new partner and the process repeats itself. Sometimes the guys chat while they work; about the latest game, about their wives or girlfriends-sometimes both. One guy always complains about a funny itch he gets after seeing some of the girls around Dragonflats Borough. Sometimes they try to talk to him. Other times they don’t. They know by now he’s too serious. Too focused. On his job, his team, his little brother.
No time to waste thinking about cute girls who return home from a long time away from the city.
The steam whistle sounds. His shift ends.
A quick stop to get dinner for himself and Bolin, and he’s back at the arena by sunset. He drags himself up the stairs and calls out, “Bo! I'm back! Picked up your favorite dumplings.” Mako groans and his body hits the couch with a thud. He stretches his neck over the edge of the couch. After a snap and a few pops, a wave of tension rolls away from his shoulders. The still warm dumplings call to him. He flicks open the paperback and shoves one of the fluffy bundles of meat and barbecue in his mouth. Strangely the sound of the bag rustling didn’t send his brother or Pabu flying down from the loft. Mako slows his chewing to call through a mouthful, “Bolin? You here, bro?”
No answer or sound except traffic outside.
“Huh.” He swallows and reaches for another one, but the briny smell of Yue Bay catches his attention. He twists to look out at Air Temple Island behind him then smirks. “Figures, I bet the little lovebird is making a house call.”
Mako pulls himself off the couch, leaves dinner behind, and walks over to the dock while thinking of a way to convince the White Lotus on guard to radio over to the island.
A lone Equalist sits behind at a littered, old wooden desk in a cramped impromptu office; back to the metal sliding door. A dark, tinted gasmask lies on the desk next to a Future Industries Personal Voice Recorder. She clears her throat then presses the recording button.
"Entry number forty-seven. It’s the fifteenth of the Pig month, one-hundred and seventy AG and Avatar Korra’s the talk of the town. Her name’s been on everyone’s tongue the past few weeks. We're on edge.
“No one knows what Amon is planning...not even me. But I assume he’ll target the Triads first; the lowest ring of the city’s bender oppression.”
A heavy sigh escapes her lips as she leans forward on her elbows. “When I was a little girl, I wanted to believe bending made our world better-” her voice turns bitter “-but you don’t have to look very far in the history books to see that wasn’t always the case.
“Even after the Hundred Year War, the reign of bending terror never really went away; it just looks different now. A suddenly collapsed mining shaft putting a competitor out of business. A crime scene suspiciously washed clean of any condemning evidence.”
A short puff escapes her nose as she curls her lip. “At least when a firebender has caused a crime it’s painfully obvious. Though, it’s much easier to pin a crime on one.
“Thankfully, the only airbenders in the world are a councilman and his two daughters; all of which are deeply rooted in the traditional pacifist ways of their predecessors. Maybe because they could have been the most dangerous benders of all.”
A short strand of hair flutters against her temple from the gentle breeze of the small metal fan resting on the corner of her desk. The device continues recording. “ind, like rain, can erode the strongest mountains. A sailor can call the seas his home if the winds allow him to. And fire? Everyone knows oxygen is one of the crucial elements of keeping a flame alive.”
The bitterness returns, fades, shifting to fear. “So what does that mean for those of us who can not call on these elements? Those of us who are at their mercy? Benders have already proven they see us as inferior; easy to control and to be controlled. Avatar Aang may have stopped the war, but the one between the two peoples is just beginning-”
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