I read an unreasonable amount of ATLA fan fiction, and have decided to throw my inexpert and unrequested opinion out into the ether.
-I'm reviewing stories, not the authors themselves. What I say about a story is not a reflection of the person in any way. There are amazing writers who are obnoxious people. There are bad writers who are sweeter than sugar. Please refrain from critiques of individuals in the comments, putting your stuff out there isn't easy.
-On that note, I'm not doing this to give bad reviews. Every fan fiction is an uncompensated gift to the internet. Maybe an amazing writer is just starting out and their first story is a little wobbly. Sometimes these new writers are literal kids. So, if I don't have anything nice to say, I'm just not going to review it.
-Many reviews will contain spoilers. I'll put these under a cut line.
-I read A LOT of them, but not all. If there's one you have an opinion on, feel free to recommend! Write a review and ask to publish it to the page. Send me a rec and ask me to review it. It's all good fun.
He sat up, making a strangled sort of sound that was somewhere in the vicinity of a laugh, with tears welling against the stormy gray of his eyes. “Hey, Katara.”
It was funny, she thought, how it always came back to this. To just the two of them—stripped bare, alone in the aftermath.
Sometimes the sheer weight of their lives knocked the breath out of her: one day she’d gone out into the ice with her brother and pulled her whole heart out of the snow. It sounded like madness.
English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes but be nice about it!
Summary: Aang comes back home to Katara after grief takes the best of him in one of his travels.
Warnings: grief (genocide survivor), talks of depression, explicit sexual content, dry humping, unprotected sex, p in v, talks of pregnancy.
Word Count: 4.2K
Aang wasn’t sure if her touch was burning or relieving him— it was always hard to tell. Having Katara’s healing taking effect on him left him antsy, with a sensation one would try to shake off of themselves. Squirm under. Writhe as he thanks her, over and over.
The only logical answer to her healing touch was to, “Breath through it” there it was, her scolding. He bit his lip to not retort. Knowing better than that.
They were on the balcony of their city home, the one they shared when Aang wasn’t following his ghosts in the Air Temple or when Katara wasn’t trying to change the world teaching one waterbending girl at a time. It was an easy routine, really. One in, the other out— over and over again.
In all honesty, this time Aang did not feel as easy coming back in: he’s been gone for weeks— and something in the way Katara was treating his injuries told him she was kind of enjoying this.
“Admit it”
“Don’t talk. Breath” dry and unaccommodating. Oh, how he loved his girl.
She kept going, and Aang tried to ignore how much he needed to squirm under her absent touch— because she wasn’t touching him. How wasn’t she touching him? Doesn’t she feel the same desperation as he does right now? Weeks of separation— really, only fifteen days— and still, not even a caress?
“Katara” he calls softly, grateful he’s not facing her right now.
“Breath in” and Aang’s dumb enough to not take it as a warning.
Such a pressure, he squirms and yelps— arching his back away from her touch “Katara” he growls, not a real bite. Never a real bite. Aang knew she could try to bloodbend him off of this balcony and he would still climb into her bed like a lost bear-dog.
“Told you to breath through it” she begins again, this time softer— like some evil spirits were lifted from her at the small amount of pain she caused him “It’s hard, I know— to follow clear instructions”
Aang bites his tongue, again. Breaths in and out. Obeying her orders. He slumps back against the railing— arms dangling over it, and chin resting on it to the point his lips contort into a pout. The overlook to the city is breathtaking— sometimes it felt like they lived on the top of the world. Republic city had that effect. But his girl behind him seems too angry to even appreciate the beautiful sunset right in front of their eyes. He knows he’ll have to work for it, and it pains him because of all the ways he would have Katara contorted in right now if it wasn’t because he—
He needs to yelp again.
“Now you’re just enjoying this” Aang complains, and hugs the railing as he allows himself to feel sorry for how she’s treating him.
She keeps silent, and Aang does too. For only a moment.
“I thought you would be happy to see me” he talks over his pout— covering face even when he knows he’s in the wrong.
“A week and a half ago I would’ve been happy to see you, but you weren’t here a week and a half ago.” She lets out, dry still. And something inside Aang excited itself around the fact that at least, she didn’t sound hurt “Were you? When you promised you would be?”
“I didn’t promise—”
“You can go ahead and sleep with Appa tonight”
The water bubble breaks and falls straight to his back, and Aang is fast to turn around and grab her wrists before she can leave “Pretty—” he breathes in, filling himself up with patience.
“Let go”
“No”
“Let go”
He immediately corrects himself “I mean, if you want to— but—” he pouts up at her, hand slipping up to her forearm— looking up at her with the biggest lemur-eyed look he could master.
“I’m really mad at you right now” she takes a step between his open thighs, looking down at him.
“I know, pretty,” he whispers.
“You don’t desert me for two weeks and come back to me injured”
“I know, pretty— and I’m sorry” he nods, honest and serious. Because he wasn’t going to fool around with this “In all honesty, I knew full on I was doing you wrong— and I am sorry. You can stay mad at me, you treating my injuries does not mean I’m forgiven. I’m not assuming it is”
Katara keeps silent for a moment, then “Be good and turn back around”
“Right on, pretty” he sighs as he turns around, going back to his position.
He feels Katara filling herself with patience, and then let it all out in a sigh— her breath caressing his exposed back. She begins her work again, and Aang can already tell she’s going soft at her edges.
They stay silent for a long moment, her healing him more carefully this time— and him taking it like a champion. Aang keeps looking over at the sunset, pouty and feeling sorry for himself under her care.
“By the time I had to come back, I couldn’t get up from the bed,” he confesses softly.
Katara knows better than to stutter under his grief, he thinks— she’s good like that, she listens. And she’s learnt how different his grief was to anyone else’s… except, in some aspects, to hers.
“I assumed so. I worried”
“I know, you are right to worry” he whispers, wiping a tear before it falls.
They stay quiet for a while more, and Aang looks for the words— how hard it is sometimes. He doesn’t want his losses to define him, no. But here, with Katara, sometimes it’s all he can feel. It’s the comfort, he thinks— no, he knows. He can break down here, and no judgement will come his way. It overwhelms him, sometimes. Now. It overwhelms him right now.
He wipes more tears.
“You should’ve been home” Katara tries.
How he loves her for it.
“You don’t have to be there every time I fall,” he lets out.
Katara does not take a moment, “How do you expect me to live on knowing I wasn’t there when I should’ve”
Aang stays silent, because for once— he would allow it.
He tries hard to not put too much on her, to not let her think she needs to be his support all day everyday— he tries so hard to not need her, not as desperately as he did as a child. But sometimes, he noticed, she needs to be that for him. Badly.
“I know, pretty” he breathes out, shoulders slumping— “I should’ve been home” he nods, hugging the railing still “I promise, I know.”
“But this time you couldn’t?” She asks softly, “It was too much, Aang?”
She’s not careful around it, either.
“Yes,” he sighs. “It was too much.”
After a few moments, Katara’s healing waters let go of their hold on him— and it’s her who’s holding him. Her arms hold him from behind, and he shakes in a relieved sigh.
“You should’ve been here, taken care of” she whispers her lament to his ear, chin on his shoulder.
Aang stays quiet for a while more, pondering over the fact she was so willing and able to love him— to care for him. Almost as much as he was with her, which is saying a lot. He didn’t overcomplicate himself with questioning it— it was just a nice thought.
One that pulled him up from the ashes that the Air Temple was.
“I want to hold on to them too desperately, sometimes” he whispers, like he could not keep it in anymore “Especially lately.”
“Why lately?” She asks.
“Everything’s been quiet lately” he admits, looking over the city tableau before him "Everything just— settled. Everyone except my own” he whispers “I have more time to feel it now. Their absence.”
She hums, burying her face to his skin— breathing him in.
He continues, “It’s all gone”
She swallows, and he knows she’s already fighting tears— that’s his girl.
“Katara— pretty…” he sighs her name, already wiping his own tears.
“I’m sorry” she whispers “I just wish I could— have your twelve year old self and hold him through it all”
He snorts through tears, “You did do that, my love” he tries to turn around, but she won’t let him “Who held me steady all these years, Katara?”
“Sokka”
This time, he laughs. “My little love” he coos “Him, too” he nods.
Katara stays quiet for a while, just holding him.
Aang sighs, holding her arms around his waist— making her squeeze him “My whole foundation was gone— I took one look at you, and I knew I was safe” he whispers “We were the same.”
“We are the same”
He doesn’t argue, as much as he could. Because back then, they were far more similar than now. Aang and Katara were two motherless children, running away from the same enemy— the one that tried and annihilated their cultures. He remembers how he felt when she had poured her tribe’s story to him— how much he related to her.
Now, he was not so sure about that— and maybe that was the problem.
If he couldn’t relate to her, then who could he relate to?
“I’m a waterbender,” he sighs, taking her hand— inspecting it “I’m a firebender” kisses her knuckles “and an earthbender, too”
She had a nation she could rebuild, a nation he will rebuild for her.
Even if his was gone.
She sniffles against his neck.
“You’re your people, Aang” she whispers, “Hold on to them, as much as you need to” she kisses his neck “World owes you as much”
And how relieving it is when she sees him. Not the Avatar, not a master in all elements— but the forever haunted survivor, the one who is his people. The one who soars over the world she’s carrying.
He knows that when all it’s said and done, he will crawl back home to her— somehow, someway. With a different body, his soul will build itself around her element at her home downsouth.
Certainly like a mirror held up to her face.
He refuses to allow her to leave first.
He refuses that grief.
He sighs, pressing firmly against her chest— “It feels better, pretty” he whispers, talking about his back.
He found another place to be from.
Right here.
“I’m sorry” he whispers again.
“I know” she whispers, “I don’t care anymore, you are here. That’s all I care about.”
He sighs, feeling her lips play with his skin— her body mold against his back “Yeah? Feels good to be missed” He nods, feeling her hands caress his naked abdomen— teeth nibbling at his skin. He smiles despite himself— allowing himself to feel her attention.
After a moment of bliss, “Does my pain excite you?” He asks, cheeky— if a bit breathless.
“You have no idea”
“You like opening me up until you can fit yourself inside me, always have” he whispers, tilting his head to allow her more room to love him “Love my tears, love my sorrows”
She chuckles at his over exaggeration, “They’re a part of you, aren’t they?” She points out.
And it makes him bite hard at his lip, because of course she would love his grief— it was simply his.
“I missed you, as well” he whispers, softer “So— so much”
“Yeah? I’ve been here, waiting on you” she whispers, hands teasing around his front— squeezing his inner thigh “Imagine me, your poor girl— waiting like an idiotic love-sick puppy”
“I thought you weren’t angry anymore”
“Not angry, no— just resentful. Frustrated, incredibly frustrated”
And he feels himself twitch in his trousers.
“Let me know how I can help,” he teases still.
“Oh, screw you” she bites hard at his neck— he squeaks and laughs.
“You’re clearly trying!” He chuckles, turning around to look at her— not allowing her arms to fall from around him “Up, up” he pats his thigh “Let me heave my girl”
“Heave?” She scoffs, but moves nonetheless— straddling his hips and sitting on his lap, legs dangling off his sides. Her hands are on his abdomen as he leans back against the railing.
“There, look how pretty you are” his hands go to her face— cradling it for a moment before they go to his braid “Even when exhausted”
She hits his arm, “I work my butt off”
“I know” he nods, undoing her braids— wanting to massage her scalp.
She sighs, closing her eyes as his fingers work— a full body chill leaving her body from pure relief. He likes the sight, how he can undo her little by little. Her braids, her clothes— her control. He likes her bare and willing for him. Eager, and confident around his desire for her.
He bounces her in his legs when he notices she’s nodding off “Pretty” he warns.
She clicks her tongue, annoyed as she squints at him “Don’t be annoying”
“You’re falling asleep sitting up!” He scoffs, cupping her face— bringing her closer “Not even a smooch”
“You don’t deserve smooches” she lets out, but she’s already kissing him.
“Oh, I don’t deserve smooches” he scoffs into her mouth “Get over here” he brings her closer, sitting her where she’s pressed against her chest and over the bulge of his trousers. He swallows one of her sighs, hands squeezing harshly at her jaw— holding her close.
Katara is eager till the point she can not be anymore— she taps Aang’s jawline with a soft slap, and the only reason why he lets go is because he laughs “Asshole” she protests, breathing in deeply before Aang assaults her lips again.
He’s more playful this time, hands going down her body till they slip under her robes “What does my girl need?” He asks, letting her escape his kiss.
“To breathe” she lets out, swallowing.
Aang loves how her chest heaves, filling up with sharp breaths— loves how much she tries to take his love, even when it leaves her breathless. He slaps softly at the naked skin of her thigh, “You can take it” he goes in again, kissing her until she absolutely needs to part to breath— his hands slipping even further under her water tribe garments, squeezing at the soft skin of her ass “Look how well you can take it” he says as he lets her go, pecking at her lips.
This time she’s the one who looks for his lips again, not caring how much her lungs burned— moving her hips on top of his, the painful hardness of him exciting her to the point of grinding.
Aang hums into her mouth, grabbing her tighter, “Don’t spoil me before I get you out of this dress”
“Let us go inside and—” but Aang groans at her words “You won’t fuck me on this balcony” she parts from his lips.
“Why not?” he pouts.
“You won’t fuck me on this balcony again, Aang”
A shameless smirk contorts around his pout, hand squeezing her ass a bit harsher— “You’re still complaining about that?” He licks her kiss off of his lips, hands already bunching the fabric of her robes up past her hips.
“Aang” she warns, and he swallows it as he kisses her again.
“Stop being difficult” he scolds her into her mouth.
“Someone could see us”
“I wish” he scoffs, still trying to get her naked—
Katara bites her smile as she pulls away, “Get me inside” she chuckles, entertained by his neediness.
“Why?” he insists.
“Because I want to fuck here too, but I know better that to let the neighbors see my breasts bouncing for you”
“Spirits” he pats her ass, shaking his head and looking around her face “And I’m the one who’s accused of depravation”
“Wanting and doing are two different things”
“Fine” he thrust his hips, making her fall against his chest again “Then we don’t undress you”
“Aang” she starts giggling, going to kiss his cheek and jawline.
He’s so far gone, it’s crazy.
Katara doesn’t even attempt to move, as much as she likes to complain— her hips keep on grinding down on his lap, soft sighs leaving her lips as she kisses up his jawline.
Aang’s hands slip even higher up, and she allows it willingly “We can go inside, pretty, let me—”
She bites his neck again, “Just blow out the torches” she whispers, and he does it instantly— movements so eager she needs to take a second to laugh.
“Who are you laughing at, Katara?” He asks sternly.
Shooting him a look, she puts her arms up— and Aang complies.
Her skin’s golden under her robes, the summer sun makes miracles on her skin that only he gets to see— it’s almost a reward for everything he’s been through, or absolution for the times he ran instead of staying. His hands are pale and almost grotesque against her glory, pulling the clothes up and off of her. She’s bare under it except for some soft bottoms underwear, and Aang’s eyes are devouring her fullness. Makes him a bit uncertain where to touch first.
“Pretty girl,” he breathes out, hands kneading at the warm skin on her waist— she was always soft and round all over, which only made him want to have her naked all the time. He almost passes out when she keeps moving her hips on top of his— full breasts jiggling and soft tummy contorting to the pleasure she was taking from him.
When he looks up, she’s watching him with almost the same far gone look as he was.
Aang moans under her, and needs to keep away from the overwhelming thought of how desired he was by her.
It felt like a miracle all around.
“Aang,”
And he groans, “Literally shut up” he lunges for her lips as she giggles under his kiss, his overwhelming outbursts always endeared her.
Katara fumbles with his trousers, and suddenly he’s in her fist.
“Katara” he warns.
“Let me get you ready”
“I’ve been ready, you know I love your scolding a bit too much— oh, well” he moaned at the end, hips thrusting up into her warm hand “Pretty, I’m telling you—”
She has to use both hands, she just has to “Told you to be good.”
“Told you I missed you”
“Aang” she warns, but chuckles at the end.
Aang shakes his head, but let’s her have her way— trusting she would know when to push and when to pull.
There was a time, a few years back, when he used to be ashamed of his lust over her. It almost felt greedy, a one sided need to have his hands on her at all times— physical intimacy was always a second thought to their relationship, at least at the beginning.
Now, he did not feel as ashamed.
“You look so pretty, baby” he whispers, thrusting into her hands as he lays his back against the railing— watching her through hooded eyes. She hummed, standing up so he could take down the last of her underwear before sitting up on top of him again.
“Should’ve been home sooner”
“Should’ve never left home,” he sigh, thrusting pathetically into her fists “Should’ve been here all day, everyday, waiting for my pretty girl—”
Katara sighs, shaking her head as she slides herself closer so her willing cunt warms Aang’s cock— wet and ready.
“Be nice” she whispers into his mouth, when she goes straight for refuge against him “Yeah? I need it to be nice tonight”
Nice for them meant slow and caring— a contrast to the usual playful neediness they battled against each other with bites, grabs and squeezes. Nice meant Katara needed to feel him close, and allow herself to be taken care of.
“Feeling lazy, pretty?” He asks against her ear as she hides into his neck.
“Yeah” she breathes out in a soft moan as Aang begins to rock her up and down on the length of his cock— hands on her ass, kneading at the fullness of it.
“You get to be lazy, baby— you get to ask for whatever you want here, you know that” he whispers still “I can feel how much you’ve worked— you just want to feel full, that’s it?”
She nods, still hidden “Yes, baby” she whispers.
“Here,” he whispers, shifting so she slides down on his length— a broken moan falls from his as she stiffens for a second “Can tell just how much you need to have me here right now—”
“Aang” she protests when he starts making her grind against him with him inside of her— a circling motion that makes her gasp in delight and desperation.
“I can tell how much your bones ache for carrying the weight of me” he whispers “Why you keep doing it?”
She doesn’t hesitate, “You taught me to fly”
Aang is a bit breathless around it— he's squeezing at her skin, nibbling at the same spot of her shoulder over and over “Katara” he whispers against her skin “I’ve missed you.”
“You keep saying that.”
“You smell so good”
“You keep saying that” she chuckles, and his heart sings.
“How long till I marry you?” He asks, and she giggles— their movements never stopping.
“You’re asking?”
Aang chuckles now, shaking his head “Come on— up, up— want to see you” he pats her ass, too soft to be the playful spanks he always lays down on her “Let me see my pretty girl— there she is”
Katara sits back on his thighs, lifting from his chest— hands on his knees as she now takes control of their movements. Slow and consuming. Aang’s hands go to her thighs, opening them wider open to watch where her cunt is swallowing his cock “That’s it, use your hips— look how good you take me”
She’s looking down, too— and he can tell how much bothered she’s getting.
“Love” she calls for something Aang’s already giving her, so he just hums to her— still watching her expert movements, her hips circling and her feet dangling on his sides.
One of his hand goes to lay on her soft tummy, almost holding on as he feels the overwhelming pleasure she’s punishing him with. His other hand goes straight to her breast, squeezing hard at it— enjoying the feeling on the palm of his hand.
“Are you a bit sore, pretty?” He asks softly, noticing a difference in her body— edges softer, breasts fuller.
“A bit— your cock’s helping”
He twitches inside of her, “Katara” he scolds.
“Well, you’re fucking me good”
“Stop that”
“On our balcony”
“I know”
“For the neighbors to see”
“I sure hope so—”
Katara snorts, and then shakes her head “Work for it, come on” she makes emphasis to her complaint by a sharp movement of her hips above him.
“Hey— hey” he warns, making her still— his own hips stuttering at her movements, too much sensation “You asked for nice”
“Aang, you know just how good you are?”
He nods, a bit reluctant. He doesn’t feel good: he keeps thinking on her tits around his cock— pumping him. Or maybe her mouth on him, and his on her— spirits, maybe her grinding down onto his mouth? That’s definitely not a thought of someone good.
She’s talking again “You’ve always been good to me” she takes a bit of a shift, her hips moving a bit faster on top of him.
“I— I try, pretty” he lets out, sighing in pleasure as he keeps looking there where he’s buried inside of her.
Fucking herself with his cock.
“You’re so so good” she nods, going faster.
“Katara” he pleads, because he knows that it all it takes for him to crumble for her.
“Aang, please— please?” She almost pouts, and he needs to squeeze her harder—
Knowing exactly what she's asking for.
She won't allow him to come anywhere else but where he is right now.
“Please what— baby” he pleads himself, closing his eyes “Kat— Kat, pretty—”
But she doesn’t hear his pleads— just makes it harder for him to keep in control.
“Love, love— Katara” she’s relentless, moving up and down his length— squeezing him, clenching around him.
“Be good for me, Aang” she sighs, already trembling “Be my good boyfriend—”
Aang’s hips stutter under her, a guttural sound coming from the depths of the pleasure he only allows himself to get from her— never taking more than what she gives him.
“There, there” Katara trembles too, and her hips shake in delight as her orgasm comes tamed and steady— safe in his lap.
Aang pulls her from her waist, bringing her to his chest— sighing in relief.
It takes a moment to gather his breath, his eyes closing— the pleasure overwhelming him. He pulses inside her, her cunt taking every last drop he has to offer.
She's always been greedy with it.
“You shouldn’t have let me do that” he whispers, she hums.
“Won’t make much difference” she hides in his neck— and Aang takes a moment to think her words through.
“Katara” he whispers in her ear, pulling her slightly away from her hiding spot— looking around his face.
“I’m not sure” she whispers.
Aang gives her a weary smile, “Alright, pretty” he sighs, forehead falling to his “Alright”
“So if you’re asking for real— do it soon” she chuckles.
Aang pushes at her forehead with his, chuckling too “Silly girl” he whispers, “My forever girl—”
A confirmation that he will ask the question. Soon.
Katara bites her lip, looking around his face “Glad you’re home”
And Aang nods, “Glad I’m not sleeping with Appa”
“Aang—” she starts to giggle, and he follows.
It’s only a month later, Katara confirms her moon won’t be back for the next nine months.
More than 450 stories were nominated for consideration of awards and the countdown. Several who did not make the Top 100 will still receive individual recognitions to follow. Instead of listing out all of them, please use this links page to explore all these amazing authors (alphabetical) doing the Spirits Work:
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