aang, in all his avatar glory, is not above tongue-fucking his cum right back into your quivering, convulsing pussy. his wide, stupefied eyes glow white as he licks and scoops and sucks with relentless obsession, lithe tongue sweeping across your folds with striking precision only an avatar could possess. powerful arms pin your thighs against the mattress while roughened hands palm over your lower stomach, cradling the skin above your uterus with something almost reverent in their touch.
“it has to take. . .” he’s mumbling to himself, practically incoherent, but you can still hear the raw desperation threaded through his guttural chanting. “has to, has to, has to—!”
“a-aang, mmph! what’s wrong? did something happen on your trip—?” you whimper through the haze of overstimulation, hands scrambling against his coiled shoulders as you search for something to ground yourself with. he’s been at it for hours, ever since he returned from his home air temple. had stormed into your shared bedroom with the doors rattling against the walls behind him, barely a greeting leaving his mouth before he was climbing over you, frantic hands shoving the hefty layers of his robes and beads from his body like they’ve suddenly become unbearable.
in mere seconds he had you striped and flat on your back.
then on all fours.
and then on your side and everything else in between.
the room is in absolute shambles— feathers spilling from torn pillows and swirling through the air in frantic, whirling currents. the bed barely remains intact beneath you, headboard split apart and canopy hanging in splintered ruin, all of it unable to withstand the force of him as the elements hum beneath his tortured skin.
“aang, honey, are you— hah!— okay? talk to me, baby. please.”
what new revelation could he have possibly had for him to suddenly fold you into a million different positions?
and you tried to run, to tap out after the nth round, but did you really think you could escape the hold of an avatar in his avatar state? a handsome, beefy, six-foot-five, one-hundred-something kilogram man so utterly desperate to revive an entire bloodline, yet far too in love to want to do it with anyone else but you?
aang’s voice comes out rough, wrecked with pathetic want. “need to get you pregnant,” he finally admits, lips never leaving your twitching clit. “need it right fucking now.”
his sharp, unfamiliar words send a shiver down your spine.
he begrudgingly sits up, one hand keeping you spread for him while the other drags down his chiseled abs, ghosting over the twin downward arrows that curl just above his v–line. he fists his burly cock in slow, measured strokes as he readies another thick load, bright eyes trailing from your flushed face to your heaving breasts, tongue-in-cheek.
your heart jumps. you know that look. “aang, i know how much reviving air bending means to you, the duty you have to your people—” you start in an attempt to soothe.
because when he gets like this you tend to wobble for weeks.
he cuts you off with a dry, humorless chuckle. “you think that’s what this is about?” he tilts his head, eyes narrowing.
you could only gulp in response.
then, he’s rising above you, broad, muscular shoulders boxing you in as he settles between your thighs. the heavy heat of his dick presses against your sensitive, aching entrance, his incandescent gaze dragging over your face like he’s trying to memorize every expression, every shaky inhale.
as if he was mapping out your features to store in the forefront of his mind. to painfully revisit over and over again.
the realization that had struck him back at the temple as he looked at every mural, every worn painting and towering statue of the air nomads. they all looked like his people. familiar faces, familiar smiles, familiar powers.
but none of them resembled you.
none carried the curve of your lashes or the little furrow in your brow when you worried. none had your laugh, the unique slope of your nose, your warmth, your favor for sour over sweet, your gentleness for children and particular bugs. none exuded your enchanting presence, whether you could bend or not. and suddenly, the grief that sat in his chest for years changed shape entirely. because what would be the point of preserving the world he lost if, in doing so, he lost every trace of the person he loved most within it?
“this—this isn’t about me reviving airbenders or a duty to save my dying culture. this isn’t about avatar sonam or tagah or monk gyatso or anything that has to do with bending. this is about you and me and me wanting to start a family with you,” he states with that heavy, solid avatar voice of his. firm and sure, thumb brushing along your jaw, “this is about me making sure that a part of you will always exist in a world where the avatar exists. that your lips, your eyes, your soul. . . live on for eternity. so that every time i look into this world through the eyes of the new avatar, i can still see you. see you in our grandchildren, in our great-great grandchildren, in the people that will come to exist because we loved each other. . . to know that you’ll always be in my life someway, somehow.”
“aang. . .”
“i realize now that there will come a day when airbending returns, whether in our lifetime or long after we’re gone.” he presses his forehead against yours, tone softer despite the ache in his words. “i know that i’ll get to see that vision through the eyes of the avatars who will come after me. and if i keep chasing impossible answers, impossible resolves— if i keep throwing myself at a future i can’t force into existence— i’ll lose you in the process. i’ll waste the little time we’re given together. with our friends. with our children. the thought of losing you to time. . .”
it killed him.
“what would become of you if i go down this path?”
and you feel it. the shift in him. the sincerity behind every broken word, every trembling breath. the sheer despair that claws through him at the thought of you leaving nothing behind of yourself, of the love the two of you share. the regret he’d forever live with if he only prioritized the revival of air-bending or the kids that would inherit it. and the fact that he still hasn’t left the avatar state only makes it worse, every emotion stripped raw and vulnerable beneath glowing eyes and tattoos and shaking hands.
“so i vow now that i will never neglect your life or your culture for the sake of mine. whether we have airbending children or not. . . that is up to the universe.”
his hands cup your cheeks gently as he leans in, drawing you into a slow, sloppy kiss. you could only gasp softly when his tongue slips past your lips, kissing you like he’s trying to seal his fate with yours.
he slowly pulls away, thick fingers easing you open as he makes room for himself. “i can live without other airbenders. i can make due with the acolyte family we’ve founded. what i cannot live without is you. what i cannot imagine not ingrained in this world beyond my lifetime is you.”
aang smiles for the first time tonight, like the image in his mind was far more beautiful than anything he could’ve ever imagined. he sinks inside, massive and overwhelming, drawing a raspy breath from your lungs at the sheer stretch of him. still, you pull him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel the slow, heavy drag of him inside you.
“aang!”
“sh, deep breaths, baby. yes, like that. be good. so fuckin’ tight and warm. fuck, there we go. was made for this.” and he settles there for a minute, buried at the hilt. “my sweet, perfect, silly girl.”
his body hums as you shake beneath him.
“so for now,” he whispers, breath warm against your lips as he begins moving slowly, in and out, “all i want is a child with you. one that embodies everything that you are. one that will carry on your memory, your curiosity, your strength, your traits.” gone was the glow of the avatar state, the white fading slowly from his eyes until they were simply his again, fixed on yours with a tenderness so deep it was almost unbearable. “so i’m begging you. . . give me a baby that looks just like you.”
you cry out helplessly as he buries his face into your throat, holding you impossibly close. every stroke is long and deliberate, driven far less by hunger and more by an emotion too large for words. the slick of your arousal coats his balls as you helplessly grind against him, cunt fluttering around the girthiness of his base. you could feel all the veins that line him, tracing your walls as he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.
you blink back the tears threatening to spill. “b-but i do want our baby to be like you. i do want to help you—”
he shakes his head fervently, fingers tightening around you like he’s afraid you still don’t understand. “no. no,” he rasps, “i don’t want this to be some duty you carry for me. i want this because it’s us. because it’s the life we chose together. no obligations. no sacrifices.”
you feel the dampness at the corner of his eyes as he clings to you, hands roaming your body in a worship-like trance, as though he was reassuring himself that you were real and here and present and his. to have and to hold and to sink himself into when the world is in chaos.
“please,” he croaks hoarsely into your neck, voice cracking around the word, and the raw vulnerability in it makes your chest ache more than anything else ever could. “say you’ll give me a baby, sweetheart. say you’ll give me this one thing. even if they come without air-bending.”
a broken sound leaves your throat as you cling to his shoulders, nodding desperately against him, back arching into his warmth. “yes,” you breathe out shakily, fingers curling around his nape. “yes, yes, yes. of course, i will.”
the words—your defining proclamation—undo him entirely. he groans into the curve of your neck, holding you so tightly it almost hurts, every breath hot, cold, then hot again against your skin. you run a hand down his spine, flattening your palm against the scar on his back.
his hand glides down the length of your stomach until it finds your sensitive clit. his thumb traces slow, firm circles over the small, aching bundle of nerves, each deliberate stroke sending another wave of pleasure through you. your vision flashes white as your body trembles, every muscle tightening before you shudder beneath his touch. he follows as he cums in thick, long spurts, coating your insides pearly white as you cream on his cock, legs caging him in. his tattoos begin to faintly glow once more as he shivers, hips still pumping his seed into you, forehead pressed beneath your jaw, as though he can’t bear even an inch of distance between you.
when he finally pulls back, his eyes have returned to their natural state, shining with something far softer than desire.
devotion, perhaps. a need to always keep you safe. to give you—and your children—a world that offers everything and takes nothing in return.
“i love you,” he murmurs softly, brushing the damp strands of your hair from your face. he rests his forehead against yours again, eyes slipping closed as his heart, for once, is at ease. “thank you.”
your lips tremble into a tired smile, fingers curling weakly around his head. “you never have to thank me for loving you.”
though your words alone could never truly capture the depth of everything you’ve given him.
summary: In the quiet aftermath of losing your bending, Aang refuses to accept it as permanent, rallying the team and holding onto unwavering hope even when you’re struggling to feel anything at all.
The kind that sat in your chest and made everything feel just a little harder to breathe through. You didn’t say anything when Aang helped you onto Appa. You just held onto him. Tightly.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, your face pressed into his like if you let go even a little, you might fall apart completely.
And Aang…
He didn’t try to move you. Didn’t tell you to sit differently. Didn’t even tease you like he normally would. He just reached back, one hand covering yours, holding it there.
Grounding you.
Reassuring you.
Every now and then, you felt his fingers tighten just slightly like he was checking that you were still there. Like he needed it just as much as you did.
By the time you reached the hideout, your body felt drained.
Not just physically. Everything in you felt… empty. Aang noticed immediately.
“Hey,” he said softly as he helped you down, his hands steady on your arms. “Easy.”
You barely nodded. You didn’t trust your voice. He didn’t push you to talk.
Instead, he guided you inside, one hand resting gently at your back, never leaving your side for even a second. “Sit,” he murmured, guiding you toward your bed.
You hesitated.
“I’m fine”
“You’re not,” he said gently, but firmly.
You looked at him. There was no harshness in his tone. Just care. Concern.
And something deeper, something protective.
“…Please,” he added quietly.
That was enough.
You sat.
Aang knelt in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees, his eyes searching your face like he was trying to understand everything you weren’t saying. “I’m going to fix this,” he said again.
You swallowed hard.
“Aang- ”
“I mean it,” he interrupted softly. “Whatever it takes.”
Your chest tightened. He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek you hadn’t even realized had fallen.
“You’re not alone in this,” he added.
You nodded faintly.
You wanted to believe him.
You really did.
He stood slowly, hesitating for just a second like he didn’t want to leave you. “I’ll be right outside,” he said. “Just… rest, okay?”
Your fingers caught his sleeve before he could turn away.
“…Don’t go far.”
His expression softened instantly.
“I won’t,” he promised.
He gently squeezed your hand before stepping away.
And when he closed the door
It was soft.
Careful.
Like he didn’t want to disturb you any more than you already were.
But the second the door shut.
Everything about him changed.
His posture straightened.
His expression hardened not cold, but focused.
Serious.
He turned to the others immediately.
“We’re fixing this,” he said.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Sokka crossed his arms, frowning. “Yeah, that’s kind of the goal, but how?”
Katara stepped forward, her brows knit with concern. “I’ve never seen something like this before… but if it’s anything like energy disruption, I might be able to help.”
Aang looked at her quickly. “How?”
“I can try healing,” she explained. “Sometimes bending is tied to the body’s energy paths. If I can restore that flow…”
“Do it,” Aang said immediately.
Katara nodded, though uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “I’ll need time… and she’ll need to be stable.”
Zuko, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke.
“There might be another way too.”
Aang turned to him.
Zuko’s arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful. “Firebending isn’t just power, it’s breath, control, energy from within. If she can still feel that, even a little… I can help her try to reconnect to it.”
Your heart skipped from inside the room.
You could hear them.
Every word.
“…You think it’ll work?” Aang asked.
“I don’t know,” Zuko admitted honestly. “But if there’s even a chance, we should try.”
Silence fell for a moment.
Then Aang nodded.
“We try everything,” he said firmly.
No hesitation.
No giving up.
Sokka sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Figures. We don’t exactly have a ‘give up’ option with you.”
Aang didn’t respond.
He was already thinking ahead.
Already planning.
Already fighting for you in every way he could.
Inside the room, you sat quietly. Listening. Your hands rested in your lap, fingers curling slightly as you tried again, to feel something.
Anything.
Nothing came.
But their voices... Aang’s voice
It reached you.
And for the first time since it happened. The emptiness didn’t feel quite as suffocating. Because even if your fire was gone
When Aang woke up from a dream that felt so real m, he let out a piercing scream. He was crying, shaking, and panting. He looked very disheveled, his eyes darting around the room as he looked for you with so much panic on his face.
"Aang! Aang, it's okay, come here," you cooed, your own heartbeat beating abnormally fast from the grueling sound that came from your boyfriend as you brought him into your arms and let him cling to you and just cry. His grip on you was so tight, big pale hands running up and down your back almost as if he was trying to memorize how your body fit next to his.
You let him cry in the crook of your neck for a little while, simply whispering small soothing words like, "It's okay, baby, just let it out." And “I’m here, I’m right here”
Then he pulled away just a litttle bit and looked at the wet splotch on your sleep shirt "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you I just-" he started sniffling and blinking through his tears
"Don't you dare apologize, Aang." He just pulled you closer
"Was … was the nightmare about your people?" you carefully asked.
He let out a shaky breath before recounting what he dreamt about
"No... you you died a-a-and I was too late and it felt so real. I-I just... I can't- baby, I can't lose you."
He let out heavy sobs and whimpers of heartache and pure fear into your neck as he held you close.
"It was just a nightmare, Aang. I'm here. I'm right here, holding you and I'm not going anywhere."
His cries had quieted down and he was only sniffing a bit and you rubbed his back through all of it, gently moving your hand over his head, bringing him closer to you.
"Shhhh, it's okay, sweet boy. It's okay."
Your heart broke even more. Your sweet, kind, joyful man was reduced to a crying and shaking mess because of the terrible demons that plagued his mind when he was asleep. You hated seeing him like this, seeing him in so much pain, seeing him so scared.
Underneath the whole Avatar, master of four elements, bringer of peace and restorer of balance to the world, the Last Airbender mantle, was a boy who had already lost too much and didn't want to lose any more. He was a boy who loved eating fruit pies and moon cakes. He loved riding the air scooter. He loved meditating. He loved playing around and being goofy. He loved taking little kids on rides with Appa. He loved finding things that reminded him of you. He loved talking about his culture and heritage. He lit up every room he walked into.
But right now, he was a crying mess who just needed his girl.
You hated life for robbing him of his childhood.
You hated life for putting so much responsibility on him from such a young age.
You really hated life for constantly taking from him.
So, you held him close and let him cry, let him pour it all out. You stayed like that for a long time.
And you hated the fact that even though you were a great healer, you couldn't heal this. You couldn't fully take this pain away from him. You could only be there for him when he needed you.
"I'm sorry for getting you all wet," he apologized again once he had calmed down and started breathing evenly, gently moving away from you.
"Aang, look at me."
He raised his wet face up. You gently wiped his tears and passed him a small napkin so that he could blow his nose, then you threw it into the trash can nearby. Then you cupped his cheeks taking in his appearance; pale skin looking warm in the moonlight, his nose was red and his eyes were bloodshot and tired, it made your heart clench.
"I'm here, Aang. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving, and you know I'm a tough girl. I'm not gonna get taken out that easily," you said while holding his face and lightly teasing.
"I know,” he paused to take a deep breath “I know you're a tough girl. It… felt so real and I just got really scared" he continued while looking deep into your eyes with the big stormy gray pools you fell in love with. Those big beautiful eyes you would fight a war for.
"I love you. I love you so much, and I can't stand the thought of losing you."
"I love you too aang, and I'm right here with you, not going anywhere," you concluded as you gently kissed his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his forehead, and finally his lips.
Then you gently motioned for him to lay down, and he brought you down with him, resting your head against his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso as he nestled his face into your hair and wrapped his hand around your back, keeping you snug against him. He listened to you whisper sweet nothings until he fell asleep again, feeling safe and at ease in your warm embrace, and at that moment he knew he wasn't going to let anything take you from him.
He could live without the Air Nomads.
He could live with being the last Airbender.
He could live with knowing he had to carry his dying culture on his back.
Hi! Can I please request an angsty aang x reader fic
Where aang has 2 airbending kinda and 1 no bending kid and 1 earthbending kid who
And it’s just aang subconsciously giving his air bending kinds more attention and kinda neglecting his other kids
Like yes he would still help take care of them but he won’t be there as much and it’s hurting them cause they just want their dad’s attention.
And you their mom notices and it hurts seeing your kids feel that way so you confront aang
──۶ৎ──Absent ──۶ৎ──
☆Aang x Fem!reader. ☆Word Count: 1.K ☆CW: Angst. Aang being an absent father. An extra child that is unnamed as also happens to be an airbender ☆AN: I am SOOOO sorry this took long. I began writing this ages ago and forgot bcz Aang was pissing me off. (that's my fault but oh well)
Aang had just gotten back from taking Tenzin gliding over the cliffs surrounding the Air Temple and the little boy couldn't stop talking.
"Dad let me steer! He said next time he'll teach me how to catch the wind!" he said excitingly as he stepped inside. Aang laughed, ruffling Tenzin's hair. "You did great."
You smiled from the kitchen, stirring dinner. "Sounds like fun."
"It was!" Tenzin beamed before racing off.
Aang wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You should've seen him. He's getting so good."
You leaned into him. "I'm sure."
Your smile faltered as you looked across the room where Bumi sat quietly carving a little wooden bison. He hadn't looked up since his father came home.
Over the next week, Bumi worked hard on his carving before taking it to his father. "Dad?"
Aang looked away from the ancient Air Nomad scroll he was reading with Tenzin. Bumi stood awkwardly in the doorway. "I made something," he says shyly.
"Oh?" Aang perked up.
Bumi walked over, holding out the little carving he'd been working on for days. It wasn't perfect, one horn was shorter than the other and the tail was crooked but he'd spent every spare minute making it.
"For you," the boy says, holding it out.
Aang smiled. "That's really nice, buddy." He took it, looked at it for maybe three seconds then absentmindedly set it beside the scroll. "Can you put it on my desk? Tenzin and I are in the middle of something."
Bumi's smile disappeared; he nodded solemnly and walked away.
That night, you found the carving tucked into one of Bumi's drawers instead of on Aang’s desk. Bumi had hidden it after realizing his father hadn't cared enough to keep it. You picked it up carefully to inspect it. It was beautiful. Your eyes burned before you quickly placed it back inside the desk.
"Dad?" Kya poked her head into Aang's study. He was helping Tenzin translate old Air Nomad texts.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he hummed.
"Will you braid my hair?" the young girl asked quietly.
"Can it wait?"
She hesitated. "...Okay."
An hour later you found her sitting on her bed. Trying and failing to braid it herself, her tiny fingers kept getting tangled. You sat behind her and helped her with the plaits.
She leaned against you with a soft sigh. "I wanted Dad to do it."
It was the little things. Tenzin wanted to meditate and Aang canceled meetings. Your youngest, who was just a toddler, wanted to practice breathing techniques and he spent the afternoon with her. If Bumi asked if Aang wanted to go fishing, he’d put it off for another day that never seemed to come. Kya wanted help learning a new waterbending form and he always told her that you could help.
One evening, you finally said something once the children were asleep. Aang was happily organizing Air Nomad relics they'd found earlier that week.
You stood in the doorway before clearing your throat. "Aang."
He smiled. "Hey."
"You missed Bumi's presentation today," you say disappointingly.
His smile faded. "I know. I couldn't leave Tenzin's lesson halfway."
"You've missed the last four," you state.
"I'll make the next one." He sighed.
"Do you know Bumi's favorite food? When was the last time you asked Kya about her waterbending?"
Aang stayed silent because he couldn't remember. He sat on the floor, elbows resting on his knees.
Finally, he whispered, "I thought I was doing enough."
You sat beside him, your shoulder brushing his. "I know."
"I made sure they were fed and told them I loved them every night."
You reached over, gently covering one of his hands with yours."They worship you." Your voice cracked. "They wait by the windows when you're supposed to come home. They make you gifts and tell everyone how amazing their dad is. And every time you choose airbending over them and they think it's because they aren't enough."
"That's not true," Aang mumbles.
You move closer, taking his hands. "I know you love them so why does it keep happening?"
He couldn't answer but he knew that every time he looked at his airbending children, he saw the last pieces of a culture he'd lost. Somewhere along the way he forgot that Bumi and Kya weren't asking for the Avatar, they were just asking for their father.
"The Air Nomads..." he murmured. "Every day I wake up terrified that if I don't teach Tenzin everything... then they'll disappear forever. I kept telling myself I'd take Bumi fishing next week."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm taking Bumi fishing at sunrise."
"And if Tenzin wants to train?" you inquire.
"He'll understand," Aang says. “ And I’ll ask Kya to teach me one of her waterbending forms after breakfast."
You laughed softly. "She'd love that."
"And every week we’ll do something together," he looked back at you, guilt still lingering in his eyes. "I can't promise I'll never make another mistake, but our children will never have to wonder if they're worth my time again."
The next morning, before the sun had fully risen, there was a gentle knock on Bumi's bedroom door.
A sleepy voice mumbled, "Come in..."
The door creaked open and Bumi blinked blearily at the familiar orange-and-yellow robes.
"Dad?" he said softly.
Aang smiled, holding up two fishing poles. "I think someone promised me a fishing trip."
For a moment, Bumi stared at his father in disbelief before smiling softly.
"Dad, really? You mean it?" His voice is filled with excitement as he sits up.
Aang's smile wavered, guilt flickering across his face. "Really."
Bumi's grin spread slowly and he practically launched himself out of bed.
"Give me two minutes!" As Bumi scrambled to get dressed, Aang looked down the hallway and caught your eye. You were leaning quietly against the wall, watching. He gave you a small, grateful smile. At last, he was finally choosing to be there.
──۶ৎ── Masterlist Aang masterlist ──۶ৎ──
Disclaimer: I don't own Rights to any characters mentioned nor do I consent to plagiarism of any kind. Thankyou for reading loves ;)
I was just thinking about how the readers mom would be so kind to aang and treat him like one of her own, she would sew a blanket for him, make is own meals separate since he doesn’t eat meat, and she would give him sweets too! She would even have very deep conversations with him about everything and nothing sometimes he would accidentally call her ma( and he’s not used to that since he was raised by the monks). Aang and your mother had a really beautiful relationship aswell she showed him motherly love.
So when she dies aangs heart would be as broken as yours. You would be going through one of the worst moments in your life and aang would be with you through all of the grief
M'BACK ON MOLLY, LOST ALL GOOD INTENTIONS! — aang x gn! reader || 3k words
ʚ♡ɞฺ main m.list ྀིᨯ — cw. sfw, hurt/comfort, talks a lot about death, parental death, grievance, both character n’ reader raised the same way, obviously non-canon au but still has the bender system stuff, duh aged-up/post series & pre-tlok
m note: queued #4 || hai non, this was really heartwrenching eughueghhghg i love my mother and i knew how much my ex appreciated her too </3, i can't imagine losing her im crine
synopsis: aang grew up beside you, and was nurtured by the same woman. now with the grief of losing her, how does he cope? comforting others and forgetting about himself.
your mother always made the best cinnamon rolls ever. aang loved that about the two of you when she decided to take him in and raise him alongside you. so growing up became easier,
but that meant losing meant more than just a feeling.
he still kept the recipes you'd write down together while fooling around in the kitchen. going as far as to make his meals separate from yours, he learned the love is subjective.
aang loved all the blankets, and trinkets your mother would make for the both of you. of course a matching set so neither of you would feel left out.
he could recall how intricately your mother studied his culture, even when it was in ruins, she still saw the symbols that seemed to mean something to him in books your grandmother had left her.
the notes she would stay up at midnight for, and the days she would spend making sure you both were comfortable while you still had years and years to think about what to do with your life.
even little statues that would look just like him, when he sleeps, your mother would always make sure neither of you would ever feel alone anymore. not when your little family of two now grew to three.
even he grew into the habit of calling her 'mom' because you did whenever you referred to her. it was easier that way, right?
he'd like to think that way.
a mother was a female parental figure who nurtures and cares for her children. appreciating the times he'd get scolded, and the nights that she wouldn't let him go to bed thinking that she was mad at him.
it was the same sweet way it had felt becoming apart of your life.
watching you become a night sky he'd only see once in his life, you made him feel like that all the time. and he was more than happy to ask your mother for her blessing waaay in advance.
he could already see it again,
"okay! okay okay, i'm gonna go back inside to get more cinnamon. just keep working," your tone skipped a few steps as you waved both aang and your mother off as you trailed back off into your house.
it was a windy night, a nice cool breeze passing by them every now and then. your mother's grey hair stayed up into a bun, staying idle in her rocking chair while she knit a decorative scarf for the third time today.
it had been many years since he had known you two, i mean, you were turning twenty something soon.
maybe it'd be a good time to ask, aang thought to himself as he finished rolling up the dough with brown sugar and cinnamon filling, but at the same time he liked this kind of silence.
the type of quiet that he didn't mind sitting in, the feeling that felt more comfortable than words,
it was what got him to realize that actions speak louder than whatever he had to say...
and still,
he felt like he had the need to ask anyway, whether or not he could, or if it was a requirement.
"ma... here, you can put the first batch in the oven." walking over to the old woman who already gently placed her needles to the side. only a hum left her lips when she stepped closer to the airbender again, "mmm, put them there, sweetheart. i will place them in when [name] is back."
her slow, warm smile made him feel so sure about what he was about to ask,
letting her words linger in the air for a little longer, he helps her back into her seat before getting down on one knee in front of her.
"ma. i... i ask this very seriously- and... and i want your answer to only be if i'm a good fit."
for once, her eyes open a little wider, a sign that she's intrigued. "go on, aang. i'm always listening." her voice being lost a little in the middle of her own sentence, she picks the pins right back up,
"so what is it?"
now it's like he could only hear his heartbeat. panging so loudly in his chest, he found himself even more nervous before asking. your mother just looking expectantly at him,
"i want to ask, can i... nonono- may i be [name]'s significant other?" his voice spaces out for a moment when it finally gets out of his mouth. the roof of his mouth feels dry when the very air he bends feels like it leaves him completely.
. . . . .
the wind felt harsh that day.
even with the presence of the only airbender, it just felt unnatural. the kind of tempest that would be considered solemn.
even the breeze grieves her death.
it was an unfortunate feeling every human ends up going through, most people would call it 'life', life running its course and picking the sweetest souls from a rotten sprout.
the only warmth he allowed himself to feel were your arms around him. the kind that made him question his being in it as itself, the rain poured, and you couldn't help but choke up during your speech.
trying to blink away the clear water in your eyes, standing to the side doesn't help out your case. a sharp twinge of page rings through your nose, it's hard trying to keep in a sob.
before you knew it, you felt those same arrowed arms hugging you close from behind.
"look, aang i'm fine i just— i just need to process it properly." still, he doesn't let go, leading his hands to yours as he places your interlocked palms over your heart.
he knew exactly what you meant by that, he knew very well how badly you were hurting and it only bled worse when you hadn't even said anything yet.
"aang i-" — "hey, i've got you."
you feel your chest tighten, keeping your hands together as you finally looked up at him. small sniffles leaving you while his infectious smile suddenly kissed your temple.
"yeah? okay? m'here now."
that's what he told himself too.
he had you by his side, you two stayed behind and by her gravestone, yet no matter how many times he'd tell himself that you were right there with him; he couldn't help it.
placing flowers by the stone, reminiscing over a few more memories one last time before walking to your childhood home with your best friend.
coming home felt heavy, but slowly you learned to deal with it, your mother definitely would've wanted to anyway- but aang? it... honestly hit him a lot harder than it did to you earlier, you just couldn't see it until-
"aang? what's wrong? why are y..." your voice trailed off as you came closer, the airbender who mourned over the the kitchen countertop; you hadn't seen him as worked up and tireless in a long time.
a hand holding his arm briefly before pulling him in for a hug by his bicep. there wasn't a lot to be said but... you knew a thing or two about grief by now. "i... i just wish i had been there more,"
why am i lying? letting out a cumbrous sigh, he couldn't even bare the desserts he tried to shove into his stomach a few hours ago.
you raised an eyebrow at his statement when you saw, growing up with the avatar, you knew he had a tell for whenever he lied; he would bite his lip, and kiss his teeth.
"hey, i've lived with you basically my whole life. why are you lying..." the question not necessarily being a question, you tipped your head to get a better look at him,
letting out a huff, "why're you talking to me like that? i promise i'm fine."
now it was your turn to sigh, patting his back before wrapping an arm around his again. "i just wanna say... whatever you're feeling right now is just as valid as y'know... my feelings."
staring out the small window to your left, it was one of the first times you've seen aang like this, he didn't like to open up too much, it had been only because of your mom that he had ever thought of opening up to you.
and sometimes, it's okay that the only thing you can give is silence and that's normal.
and after all the mourning moments that kept the two of you quiet, someone's voice finally broke the stillness that only heard your heartbeats.
"the last thing i got to ask your mom..."
you could see the way his eyes immediately softened thinking of her. hell, even yours did once you heard those last two words. continuing to cling onto him, you managed to move your glance slowly over to him.
"is if she approved of me to become... yours."
you could feel your eyes widen, the hands that wrapped around him—your secure grasp that suddenly tightened hearing him.
"so... what'd she say?"
"...nothing."
another quietude passed by you, your [e/c] eyes stayed on his face while aang tried to find the words to say anything more.
"not for a while anyway. i... ahhh, i don't know if she was just..." glancing to you briefly before staring back onto the counter. "thinking, but she said she didn't mind."
"is that what she really said? i feel like you're holding back." a cheeky grin occupied your expression when you tilted your head, "well... you know ma. she said she'd 'prefer me over any other suitor' if its you i'm courting."
adding air quotes in the air made you lose your grip on him and lean up against the countertop instead. "is that it?" — "...you know me well."
eventide started to cover the sky slowly, starting with orange and purples hues that the stars would later on use to shine. the clouds moved with the air; that's the scenery you'd see right past the airbender anyway.
the robes aang wore for the funeral now starting to look a little messy, you couldn't help but reach out to straighten his collar. "she told me too, you know."
and when your hands were about to leave him, he suddenly grasps your palms without realizing it. “i—uh, well, i told you what she said to me…”
another smile appeared on your face as you fluttered your eyelashes all cute and stuff. a small, subtle red dusted his cheeks. barely noticeable, but enough for you to see anyway,
“…she told me if i were to settle down with someone, it should be you.”
so when a year past by in a breeze, the day of her death came again, a day no one would forget—yet also became a day no one would no longer grieve, but celebrate.
you both knew she lived a great life, and loved nothing more but to make sure those around her were happier than they were before meeting.
your mother would’ve preferred it like this.
you could already imagine how she’d react to—
“can you believe it, mom? aang learning how to make the cinnamon rolls himself?” a crease in your cheek appeared as you talked, a soft smile that was enough to light up aang’s world from not so far.
unpacking the batches of desserts he made was no problem, but god to see you all happy like that? you might as well have killed him.
he could finally admit it—you were fucking breathtaking.
aang’s grasp on the boxes almost slip hearing your hearty laughter once more, he could hear the way ma would’ve give some sarcastic reply like “impossible, over my dead body!”
no matter how harsh any situation would be, she’d always end up getting you both to chuckle at least.
it’s what he first fell for when growing with you anyways.
shaking off the butterflies he could feel forming, he finally walked over with the crunches of a few dead leaves and the grass to follow. “talking to ma without me? really?” — “she loves me more, so…”
he playfully raises his eyebrow as he takes his seat next to you. “oh yeah?” a grin matching his tone writes itself all over his face, “oh yeah! she thinks my rolls are for suuure better than yours.”
…
“you do realize there is only one man that i would let my child marry, yes?” when your mother’s words echoed in his ears, for a moment he swears he could feel his heart drop to his stomach.
“…really?” — “must you be so oblivious, my son? it would be you, and only you. only you would go to far lengths to ensure their happiness…”
the old woman’s voice stopped for a second, her own breath hitches before a smile appears on her face. “and i would want nothing more than to make sure my child stays happy for the rest of their days.”
…
that’s the memory he kept close to his heart at all times now, a picture—a very old one, of you, him, and your mother by the first painting you and aang had made as kids, together.
now while you continued on and on to your mother about his most recent discovery on his expeditions; he clutched the small box of fuzz.
hopefully you wouldn’t mind a ring on your finger soon.
The inherent angst of loving the person you have nightmares about.
There's just something about forgiveness, the kindness and love it takes to do that, but also the fact that no amount of forgiveness can erase the harm done. Aang's visions of fear with the Guru include just four elements: himself, losing the people he loves, Ozai/the upcoming battle, and Zuko. Zuko also actively appeared in at least one of Aang's nightmares as far as I recall.
Aang may not hold it against him, and he may see Zuko as a true friend, but his subconscious is still scarred by those experiences.
So, the idea that even as adults and lovers, Aang could still have these nightmares, flashes of memories of blades too close to his throat or flames instead of words as a response. Of course he'd not fear Zuko, but he'd still suffer the consequences of Zuko's actions.
And of course, the angst of Zuko having to watch that, knowing there is nothing he can do to reverse the damage he inflicted on the person he loves most.
modern au zuko has been professionally diagnosed with autism, in large part for ozai to convince him it was some huge moral failing and made him completely unworthy of the family legacy (they're definitely involved in building ai data centers somehow). uncle iroh refutes this idea completely, he is also autistic and there's nothing unworthy or dishonorable about him, right?
aang isn't diagnosed, and just thinks there's something weird and inherently unlovable about him personally. being bounced around foster homes doesn't help with this feeling either
when they become friends, aang starts seeing a lot of his own traits in zuko, and they're things that the people around him account for and accomadate, and no-one ever seems upset by it. he offhandedly mentions to toph that he's really glad no-one feels burdened by zuko and she get's really mad at him because 'nothing about him is a burden, he's our friend and we care about him. having to do things differently for someone doesn't make them harder to love' and aang feels like he definitely put at least both of his feet in his mouth
but this starts him on slowly beginning to realise that there isn't anything wrong with him. and he's finally got people who care about him, even the parts of him that are annoying and difficult and i just love aang and zuko parallels
Just saw an edit about the recent ATLA movie that made me so sad for Aang..he’s truly the last airbender, never got to see the people from his culture again, never had anyone to relate to, even tho his son was an airbender he had to teacher him all that he knew snd he most likely didnt know everything because he was a child when he ran away☹️
Ik Korra brought the airbenders back but he never got to see thag and itll never be the same😞 so sad
