#bestdad!aang

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Kataang family Halloween (click for higher res)

It was Katara’s turn to dress up as the villain this year.

[flameohotwife]

3am

@kataang-100 week 14: 3am | wc: 100 | ao3

It was late when he finally stumbled home, maybe close to 3am. The room lit up as soon as he opened the door, courtesy of a flame in his father’s hand. His mother sat behind him, arms crossed and eyes ablaze.

“Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been, Bumi?” she demanded.

“Uh… Sorry, Mom,” he stammered, rightful fear rising. “You see, the guys and I...”

“Room. Now.” Katara made no space for arguments.

Aang’s face was hard, in agreement with his wife, but he quirked a sympathetic grin at Bumi when she turned. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he whispered.

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Do you have any cloud family content in the making?

aS A MATTER OF FACT--

I have quite a bit actually. Bestdad!Aang has been running rampant in my google docs--as per usual and as it should--so I have some goodies, though none of them are finished yet

I’m still organizing my docs, but these are the fics I have filed into the cloud family wip folder so far:

“The Almost Airbender” — pre-Tenzin; Aang is worried that Kya and Bumi think he doesn’t care; impromptu dad-trip to the Southern Air Temple. The temple has yet to be rebuilt and has been left untouched because 1. the recovering skybison population need a haven where no human can access, and the southern temple is the hardest to get to 2. Aang doesn’t want to rebuild it until he shows it to all three of his children (so after Tenzin is born and old enough to retain memory of the before and after) Renovation by definition will remove a lot of the temple’s scars, and he wants to teach all three of them how to have fun in the darkest times and find the beauty in the temple, even if it is in ruins, because the memories are what matter (basically a big callback to how 1. the idea of the kids playing ball with the Fire Nation tanks at the end of the finale 2.when Aang and Katara went onto the fire navy ship and poked around the ruins and had a bonding moment over realizing Aang was born 100 years ago. Aang’s kids might not be able to wrap their heads around the gravity of what that means. He wants them to know him. To understand him. To know that he would do all this again and wouldn’t change a single thing because they were his silver lining. He wants to show the magnitude of his love for them, and he doesn’t quite know how, so this is one of his solutions. Hijinks ensue ofc😈)

“Red-handed” — Aang is injured while protecting the kids, and Katara isn’t around to help. The trio have to figure out how to save themselves and Aang despite the obstacle of Aang’s injury, because he never got the hang of healing (resigning to believing that he was just not born with that special “something”) and Kya has yet to learn, either. “Kya, do something!” “I’m trying! I’m trying!” Kya also thinks she might not be born with that “something”, like Aang, but lil Tenzin has his first opportunity to be a teacher and does it beautifully, despite how badly Kya scared him and always picked on him. “This isn’t about me. This is about Dad.” And the kids all learn to trust each other and their range of abilities and strengths and weaknesses all while Aang is technically dying and so can only wait and listen and be witness to his children learning how to have courage in each other. (Kindof a call-back to Bumi’s tests with how Katara and Sokka were being covered in the gemstone, except this time it’s Aang bleeding out).

“Always Returned” — Explores the idea that maybe Aang took Tenzin on the vacations in order to teach him the advanced sets of airbending. He trained him hard and used the locations as a treat to offset the intensity because he knew Tenzin would otherwise break. Aang had to be tough on him because time was short. Tenzin’s bullies were getting bolder, and after an incident where Bumi wasn’t around and where Kya wasn’t enough to protect him, Tenzin very nearly gets killed. Katara insists that Aang takes Tenzin with the vacations as a supplement to his rigorous training. He’s just a kid. But Aang struggles with thinking that the other two feel abandoned. Includes Aang Astro-projecting to Katara to see Bumi and Kya while away from home

“Through the Heart” — Aang is bestdad™ and teaches baby Bumi how to express and articulate his emotions by calling overwhelming feelings his “storms” that sometimes need to let out their rain (crying--and it was okay to cry because that was what storms were meant to do). Bumi has a hard go of it, but Aang believes in him and tells him that he’s the strongest “stormbender” he’s ever seen. Basically the father-son bonding that newdad!Aang and baby!Bumi deserve, and Katara is the proudest Mom in the world

“Master Bumi” — In which Bumi is bummed that Tenzin and Kya are gonna be masters with students one day and he isn’t, and so Aang and Katara introduce him to his little cousin Iroh who wants to be in the military one day just like Bumi. Basically, Bumi gets a pupil and is awesome and Kataang couldn’t be prouder (and Kya and Tenzin take notes on how he has fun and how he uses a “gentle nudge”, but the most interested note-taker is Lin, and it’s by Bumi’s example that she learns game theory to teach recruits but she does it without the silliness ofc)

I have a few more, but these are the most “complete” ones that I have on hand, dear anon

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Dancing Bear

Bumi takes his first steps, and Aang learns what freedom really is.

(just some cloud family, new parent vibes)

Words: 502

ao3

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Aang froze, the boy in the iceberg again, in the doorway. The sound was beautiful. Freedom was music. Two tender feet babbling on the floor like a stream giggling over a riverbed. It was dancing, a private party between the body and the spirit, and Bumi’s face finally knew why it was born to smile when he pushed out of Katara’s arms, steadying himself with knees that wobbled and showed him what a rhythm was.

Bumi almost didn’t give Aang enough time to ease into a crouch. Once, he lost his newborn balance and stumbled onto all fours, but never once did he lose his mad smile, not caring that he walked about as well as a skybison with six left feet and no tail. The world became real again when Bumi’s whole hands wrapped around a few of Aang’s fingers. He patted from Aang’s hands to Katara’s and back again, breathless and panting because he couldn’t speak yet and didn’t know how to say I’m free! with anything but his feet.

Bumi’s new world was hardly two feet across, just big enough for Aang to kneel on one side and Katara to sit on the other. They let him fall (but not too hard), and his smile thanked them for it. Aang thought he might burst with pride every time Bumi picked himself back up. His son’s very first acts of courage. And Aang was here to see it. All he and Katara stood at the ready for were the chances to hold Bumi’s hands when he clapped, wanting to dance in place with them. Aang had never seen a spirit puff out its chest so much. Bumi was king of his own world; he was in love, even if it was just the distance between his mother and his father.

Aang couldn’t stop smiling. He just…He just couldn’t. His son had cursed him. Stolen his face. His heart. Every bit and ash that Aang could or would ever be. It was the chilly tingle when stepping into the sea, in the cool minute before the blood recognized the ocean. It was the slight thinning of his vision, whenever his smile reached his eyes, cutting out his periphery and putting his family into focus.

He laughed and was scared because Bumi was laughing scared. It was an imbalance to dance to. It was dizzy freedom. Aang owed everything he had to every tragedy he had ever known, because he couldn’t imagine going back to the prison of not knowing the freedom that Bumi had.

“Look at you, Bumi,” Aang cooed. Bumi stomped in a circle and laughed, spinning by one hand’s hold on Aang’s fingers. “Walking all on your own. What do you think about that, bud?”

“He’s a very good dancer.”

“Of course. He’s your son.”

Everything about Katara softened, from her eyes to how she held her shoulders. She looked between his and Bumi’s smiles. “It’s like I’m seeing double.”

Bumi threw his hands up and would have fallen without Katara’s hand gently pressing at the middle of his back. Aang laughed harder, emptying his lungs so that he didn’t float away. Katara shared his efforts, looking for her words. Their little boy was free, and Bumi held his hands up like he powered the moon and held up the sky all on his own.

Bumi spun in a circle again, dancing in his crossroads, held in the safe foot of space closest to Katara. His eyes were wide and searching. So many directions. So many places to go.

Aang never felt more honored in his entire life than that moment when Bumi, having a whole new world, decided to run to him first.

Aang cried. Of course he did. What else was a father to do?

Bumi was king of his two feet, the distance between his parents, and the only things he allowed in his kingdom were dances and happy roars.

[the-last-cuddlebender]

i wish u would write a fic where.... you elicit some kataang kids feels idk. all ur fics are really good. maybe..... something with kya and lin getting together or having crushes on each other and katara and and just being good parents while simultaneously being meddling little shits. sorry if that was incoherent haha. this is why i’m sending you a summary instead of trying to write it myself XD

Stop it, you🥺🥺You’re too kind! And you’re not incoherent at all! I love this prompt, and I really appreciate the ask!

(I’ve never written Kya’s and Lin’s relationship before, so I may have danced around it for fear of making them ooc😅 But it did give me an opportunity to try my hand at bestmom!Toph)

Words: 709

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“What are they doing now?”

“One second.”

“You said one second a minute ago.”

“I can’t see what they’re doing if you keep distracting me.”

“You’re the only one of us who can see, you nimrod. Now tell me what the hell they’re doing before I kick you out of this tree.”

“Shhh! I’m trying to—Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Shush me again, Twinkletoes. See what happens.”

Aang rubbed his now sore ear and shot his best friend through unwilling circumstance a glare that he hoped she could feel. Toph’s blind glare revealed nothing, but her middle fingers thrusted into his face said she ‘heard’ him loud and clear.

Aang almost grumbled an insult, but he remembered to keep it contained to his thoughts.

Toph punched him anyways. 

Toph wiggled a bit and readjusted her grip on the tree’s trunk. She held it bodily like a koalapanda refusing to leave its home. Her cheek pressed into the bark and made even a basic sentence a grumpy grumble.

Honestly, she had no one to blame but herself for having to rely on Aang for gathering intel. He told her that teaching Lin seismic sense would come back to bite her one day. Does she ever listen to him? Nooooooo.

“Tell. Me. What’s. Happening.”

“Alright! Alright! They’re...They’re talking. By the water. They’re adorable. I haven’t seen Kya smile that big since...well, I can’t remember since when.”

Toph laughed a little bit. It was a soft, quiet sound that reminded Aang of when they sat in front of the fire for Sokka’s birthday after the kids were all asleep. They reminiscenced for hours about old times.

“...Is Lin smiling, too?”

The wind stirred, but the leaves stayed silent. Aang’s look was probing, and he hoped Toph couldn’t feel it. His friend and practically-sister failed spectacularly to hide how much tighter she clung to the trunk.

Aang hummed and looked through the goggles again. “She was in the beginning.”

“That was an hour ago. I’m talking about right now, damn you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say she’s ‘smiling’. Her face looks like it forgot how to work.”

“What?”

“Relax. Relax.” Aang forced himself to relax, too. Toph was still raw from watching Lin’s last heartbreak. His old teacher was a boulder, but her daughters made her as soft as river clay and just as at risk of falling apart in careless hands. “It’s a good thing, Toph. I promise.”

Toph’s snarl was fierce but different than normal. It felt like something baring its teeth in defense rather than attack. “If your daughter breaks her heart, I will make your insides your outsides, Twinkletoes.”

Aang hid his laugh in a grin and a neutral hum, and he shifted his weight on their branch. When he looked through the leaves at the fumbling duo dancing around the unspoken question to hold hands, he nearly did a double-take.

He flailed one arm at Toph and stiffened like a pointing hound. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Kya’s laughing! Oh my spirits, she’s adorable—”

“What about Lin?!”

“I’m getting there! I think Lin made a joke. Or, she did it by accident. I haven’t seen anyone turn so red. She’s almost as bad as Katara.”

“...”

Aang glanced at Toph in his periphery. Toph still clung to the trunk, but one of her legs had let go, dangling off their branch like it was trying to find the ground and get a better look at what was happening. The touch of a smile on her face became a ghost before vanishing. Her leg stopped. She hugged the tree like she was holding her mother’s skirts and watching something precious slip away.

“...I hate not being able to see anything.”

Aang patted her back with his free hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell your feet everything that happens. Lin is very happy. They both are. Kya is making her laugh, too, from the looks of it. Lin must have said something even funnier because Kya has to use her to keep from falling—oh no.”

“Oh no? What oh no?”

“Um—”

“What oh no, Twinkletoes?”

“Nothing, nothing! Lin just locked up for a second, is all. Kya is still leaning on her and—aaaaand Lin just passed out.”

“What?!” 

“It’s okay! Kya just—”

Toph was on the ground and on the run in an instant. 

Like a hidden trap, Katara and Bumi sprung from one bush and tackled Toph into another. 

Kya looked up, saw nothing, and helped the liquified Lin back to her feet. 

“Katara?” Aang hopped down and soundlessly ducked behind the three of them and their bush. “How did—Why are you—?”

Bumi puffed his chest. “We were on an ice column behind the bush! It was my idea. I told Mom that Lin could see us on the ground.”

Katara turned crimson, puffed her cheeks, and collected just enough of her wounded pride to face—but not look—at the grinning child she called her husband. 

Aang laughed like he was all-knowing and put his stupid face mere inches in front of hers. “Well, well, well…’Just letting it happen’ are we, sweetie?”

“...Oh, shut up.”

“Shhhh!” Toph hissed. She was lying prone on the grass with her hands, feet, and ear pressed to the ground. “I’m trying to watch!”

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[the-last-cuddlebender]

I wish you would write a fic where.... Aang and katara take their kid penguin sledding ❤️ or just visit the South Pole

My immediate thought with “visit the South Pole” was ice-skating, but the otterpenguins get a honorable mention lol.

(This somehow became Kya-centric, and I absolutely adore it.)

feat. bestdad!Aang, bëbë!Kya, bestmom!Katara, bestuncle!Sokka, bestPap-Pop!Hakoda, littleshit!Bumi, and bëbë!Tenzin

Words: 2,004

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Sokka was going to die if he didn’t stop laughing long enough to breathe. That, or Katara was going to creatively kill him.

Aang was beauty. Aang was grace.

Aang could not ice-skate.

He could surf on the wind and walk on one hand through fire, but put him on bladed shoes on ice? He was worse than a newborn catdeer.

“Daddy, you gotta do this, r‘member?” Little Kya had her mother’s grace and twice her father’s flair even when she was so thickly layered that her arms perpetually stood at the horizontal. Only a thin strip of her face was visible between her parka and her hood.

“I-I got it, moonpeach.”

Aang, in fact, did not have it.

He’s lucky he’s so flexible, otherwise the split he windmilled and then belly-flopped into might have hurt him.

Sokka laughed so hard that the otterpenguins two glaciers down made disgruntled sounds at him.

Aang tried to hide himself in the ice. Kya bent over and patted his arrow with one of her horizontal arms.

The snow melted around Sokka from the force of Katara’s glare, but he really, really couldn’t care less.

Oh, how he wished to have one of those new photo-whatchamacallits that they had in the city.

“Daddyyyy...,” Kya whined in a chastising tone that nearly swapped their roles as parent and child. “Daddy, you gotta do it like this.” Kya was insistent, stern, and extremely amiable with her wobbling student. “Here, hold my hand. I won’t let you fall again, m’kay?”

Aang managed a weak laugh and tried to nervously decline for fear of accidentally smushing her when he inevitably fell again, but little Kya was already taking his hand. Her face flushed a little red as she struggled to gain initial momentum, but it wasn’t long before she was skating with her father, crouched and holding her hand with both of his, like he was cargo tied to a sled.

The ice sang as Katara slid up next to them. Her hands laced behind her back as she swayed with complete control of and on her element. “Very good, Kya. You’re a great teacher.” Katara patted Aang’s back. “Isn’t she, sweetie?”

Kya puffed her chest and smiled so wide that they could see it in the small space between the neck of her parka and her hood. Aang’s legs were starting to shake from crouching for so long.

“Katara,” Aang hissed. “Katara, help me.”

Katara laughed something bordering on pride and mischief. She kissed his cheek, maneuvered to kiss Kya, too, and skated away to push Sokka, sitting on the border of the ice, into the powder again.

“Kataraaaaa…” Aang shook a little more, threatened to windmill again, but caught himself by sinking into a crouch so low that his rear nearly touched the ice. He was level with his daughter, now, and their speed was inches at a time. “Katara, please.”

“You’re doing really good, Daddy.” Kya patted his head with her free horizontal arm. “‘S okay to be scared. Don’t worry. I'll catch you if you fall again.”

“Hehehe, well, you see, Kya, Daddy is really heavy, and he doesn’t want to—”

Kya rounded on him with a familiar glare that compelled Aang to sit straight and speak clearly when he talked. “I’m strong!”

“Oh, I know, sweetie, I know. You’re very strong, but that’s not—”

Kya tried to press her finger to  his lips but ended up pressing the whole of her mitt to his mouth. “Shhh!” She straightened like a woman going to war. “I said Imma catch you, so don’t be scared, ‘kay? I promise.”

Aang melted and would have become a human puddle if he wouldn’t have smushed Kya in the process. She had his heart in the palm of her hand.

“I promise, okay?” Kya waddled close to Aang—who was still crouching low enough to be at her level—and strained her horizontal arms to circle his neck in a hug. “I promise.”

Aang’s insides liquified. On the border of their little ice ring, Katara oozed pride so thick that it escaped her in a giggle. Even Sokka picked himself out of the snow and smiled at the loving little oogies.

...The moment was broken the second Bumi appeared.

He and Hakoda were sprinting for their lives.

“What—Dad?” Katara stood at attention with Sokka right beside her.

“No time!”

“Gotta hide!”

Hakoda and Bumi dove into the powder that was once Sokka’s little purgatory of Katara’s design.

They missed. Terribly. Partially because they dove through the powder and onto the ice.

Aang really wasn’t being given much luck that day.

The duo took him out at the knees just as he stood with Kya in hand. A Mother’s instinct was a force stronger than nature, and Katara was in his wake and catching their daughter before Kya was ever in danger of hitting the ice.

“Daddy!” Kya, thoroughly distressed, squirmed to be let down. She was so frantic to get to the bundle of limbs and groans now stuck in the powder that she treaded on nothing for the first few seconds after Katara put her back on the ice. She windmilled her horizontal arms and skated to the scene of the accident.

Aang was on his back and trying to remember how to breathe, mutely groaning a ‘why me’. His daughter’s teary eyes took up all he saw when next his vision found focus, and his heart broke with a crack so loud that he swore everyone could hear it.

“D-Daddy…” Kya maneuvered onto her knees and patted Aang’s face with her mitts. “I’m sorry, Daddy…”

Aang, half-buried in the snow, reached up to wipe away her little tears. His world was collapsing, but he tried to keep the bulk of his worry and desperation out of his voice. “Hey, hey, hey, shhh...It’s okay, Kya. See? Daddy’s okay.”

Kya hugged his head, nearly wrapping the whole of her around him and his neck. “I promised to catch you…I promised...” She sniffled. “I’m sorry…’M sorry…”

Unadulterated fury like a tempest made flesh skated over to them, but Katara channeled her bloodlust into a somewhat rough wave of her hand to free her son and father. They raced to tell her something about ‘Gran-Gran’s retribution’ and ‘leopardseal boots and octopus’ and ‘they didn’t know the sea prunes were hers’ and ‘pretty please tell Gran-Gran to grant us mercy’.

Katara crossed her arms. They sat straight and shut their mouths.

(Sokka, shaking his head, was already working out how he could possibly use his diplomatic skills to save his father’s and nephew’s lives.)

“Sorry…’M sorry, Daddy…”

“Oh, Kya…” Aang was sitting cross-legged and hugging his daughter in the next second. He was flexible enough to move like water even with his skates on. “It’s okay. You didn’t break your promise.”

“But...B-But…” Kya was struggling so hard to not cry that Aang was half-prepared to bargain with even Koh himself for the secret to keeping her from tears.

“You said you would catch me, and I didn’t fall. I was run over by your brother and Pap-Pop.” He kissed her cheek and blew a raspberry until she smiled, and her little giggle stitched the world back together.

The hand on Aang’s shoulder was relieved and no longer thirsty for blood; Katara was a tide receding back to calm waters. “You’re a fantastic teacher, moonpeach,” she softly said as she kissed Kya’s other cheek.

Kya smiled even wider, patted both of their faces, and laughed a sound that even the otterpenguins two glaciers away were calmed and drawn towards.

Aang held her to his chest so she was sitting on his arms. “I guess I need to start calling you, Sifu Kya, won’t I?”

Katara sagely nodded. “Oh, absolutely. Though I must warn you, Kya, Daddy is a pretty difficult student.”

“I am not—”

“Hush, Pupil Daddy.” Katara’s eyes howled with the laughter that she struggled to keep at bay (but that Sokka, Hakoda, and even little Bumi, freely let out).

Aang grumbled but couldn’t care less about their audience when Kya smiled like that. She bounced more than she squirmed to be put down, and she bounced even more as she took Aang’s hand and ‘helped’ him to his feet. She was so excited that she either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Katara picking her husband up and tapping his legs apart so he (resembled) a stance that would keep him from immediately falling.

Aang stayed crouched so low that his rear nearly touched the ice. He was a puddle in airbender robes holding onto his daughter’s horizontal hand with both of his. Katara was a gleeful shadow right behind him and oozing pride as readily as the sun gave heat.

“Can you show me how to stop again, Sifu Kya?” Aang gently asked. “I’m not a really good student—”

Katara laughed.

“—and I could really use another demonstration from a Master.”

Kya spoke in excited huffs and bubbles of giggles, just too excited for words. She nodded so fast that her head threatened to come clean off her shoulders, and she tugged him across the ice even faster.

Hakoda and Bumi sat with Sokka in the powder and cooed at the little oogies.

...But they didn’t have very long to enjoy it.

Gran-Gran crested the hill like a deadly omen armed with a broom that she wielded like a master spearman.

The look in her eyes was a force of nature that put even Katara’s to shame.

Even the otterpenguins two glaciers down cried for mercy and sprinted for their lives.

Katara and Aang were content, for the moment, to let natural selection determine Bumi’s and Hakoda’s fates.

(A Mother’s instinct was a force of nature, though, so Katara’s calm became Aang’s waypoint to gauge when or if he had to save the eldest-born part of their world.)

For now, they were content. Class was in session, after all.

Kya puffed up, waddled with her arms horizontal, and spoke in a tone that compelled Aang to speak clearly when he talked and fight the overwhelming urge to hug her.

The spark in her little eyes was a force of nature all on its own.

A Father’s instinct was a tide that was pushed and pulled with her every smile.

Aang was an ocean reduced to a puddle.

His full moon stood at his back.

His Morning Star waved her arms in excitement, and his Evening Star faintly laughed among Hakoda’s pleas for mercy.

“—this move all on my own! It’s really easy, but I’ll be right ‘ere in case you fall, Daddy!”

...It took Aang months to learn that move.

But it would have taken him lifetimes to learn it all on his own.

He loved every second of it—even the bruises that came with it.

...The first time Aang fell during a ‘lesson’, Katara was too slow to catch him.

A Daughter’s instinct was a force of nature, though, and little Kya was braced with her arms vertical to catch him. Aang should have known better. His daughter was his and Katara’s. If Gran-Gran could chase down three warriors and bring them to their knees even in her old age, it should be no surprise that Kya could hold up one man in her young years.

...The first time Aang skated ‘freely’, Kya and Bumi were on each of his sides.

...The first time Tenzin wore his ice-skates, Kya helped lace them up for him. Her voice was stern but calming like something protective as she herded him onto the ice.

“It’s okay, Ten-Ten. I got you. I won’t let you fall. I promise I’ll catch you.”

Aang and Katara were going to melt the whole South Pole if they smiled any bigger.

...Sokka was going to kill himself if he didn’t take a break from laughing to breathe, but Aang was no better. Katara, either, for that matter.

Kya puffed her chest like the world and everything in it was hers.

“Sifu?” Tenzin didn’t know what most words meant yet, but he was convinced he knew the word for ‘sister’. “Sifu, ‘m hungry...Bumi didn’t share the ‘prunes.”

No one dared to correct him.

(Kya held it over Tenzin’s head for years.)

(“Korra, I gotta hand it to you. Tenzin is a terrible student, but you helped him learn how to be a great teacher.”)

(“Kya, please…”)

(“Ah-ah! That’s ‘Sifu’ to you, Ten-Ten.”)

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I don’t know how this became a Kya-love fic, but I’m not complaining in the least. The splash-bëbë deserves all the love in the world😤, and she has Aang wrapped around her finger💖

[the-last-cuddlebender]

The Feeling of Fatherhood

Hakoda didn’t warn Aang about this part. He had never held a baby before. 

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A/N: Just some bestdad!Aang and bestmom!Katara content—the fluffy tender moments that parents share bonding with each other and their newborn.

Rating: G

Words: 2,386

ArchiveOfOurOwn 

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Aang stayed in the room until the healers asked him to leave. They needed the extra room to work. 

Aang didn’t give a damn. 

Katara needed to hold his hand until it turned purple. He wouldn’t leave her. 

He almost hated that Katara convinced him to go. She would be fine, she said. The look in her eyes and the wince of her jaw told him otherwise. 

She held his hand a bit tighter before she let go, and Aang almost argued. 

Once outside their room, he threw open the nearest window with a gust of airbending and called inside the blizzard that was throwing itself against his temple. He crafted a frozen chair, sloppy and lopsided in his haste, and sat in it before the healers crowding into the room could tell him to go even further away from his wife. 

The head healer rolled her eyes and almost asked him to move on principle, despite his seat being, quite literally, frozen to the ground. 

Aang sat so close to the door that he risked a concussion every time it opened. His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, and the wind paced back and forth, pressing against the door like it might see what was happening inside. It swirled and hid in the ruffling of his robes when he heard Katara’s first cry. 

Aang’s chest caved in like it was made of glass, but something kept him anchored in place. It felt like hands on his shoulders, and it brushed his mind like Kyoshi. 

Her screams eventually died out, though the brand they seared into his mind was raw and bleeding. Aang dug his nails out of his legs and was in the room before the healers were out. 

Katara was sweaty and pale and struggling to keep her eyes open, but she was smiling a smile that Aang had never seen before. Moonlight wept through the window and colored her like an oil painting. The now slowly falling snow dappled shadows over her like beads of rain sliding down a window. 

He was at her side in the next second. She looked like she had danced through hell. 

She was the most beautiful mess Aang had ever seen.

Katara's eyes were glazed and struggled to focus before finding him, and Aang’s world had never been brighter. “Hey...Hey, there, handsome,” she said, her voice dry and cracked like old paint peeling from the side of a ship. 

Aang’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Good evening, gorgeous.” He wiped the pasty sweat from her brow and tucked the frayed bits of loose hair behind her ears. He kissed her forehead. He took a second to breathe her in and drown out the lingering scent of drying blood. He pressed his brow to hers, and he relished the small smile he drew from his wife. She leaned into his hand cupping her face, and when he stroked her cheek with his thumb, she exhaled like she hadn’t breathed since last she saw him. 

Aang’s voice got impossibly quieter. “How are you feeling?”

Katara’s words slurred the barest bit. “Better n’that you're here.”

Aang kissed her again. “I love you. I love you so, so much, Katara.”

He pressed his lips to Katara’s cheek and held there, trying to say what words couldn’t.

Katara giggled. “I love you, too. Now get over here and meet your son.”

“...Son?”

Katara turned just a bit to show the bundle in her arms. “Say hello to your father, Bumi. This is your dad.”

Aang froze.

Dad.

Aang was a dad, now.

He was a dad.

He had a son.

“H...Hey…” Aang’s smile grew ever larger the longer he looked at their little Bumi—Spirits, he was so small—, and it stretched ever wider even after it felt like it might tear his face in two. “H-Hey there, little guy…”

Aang crawled in bed beside Katara, careful of her like she was made of glass. He should have known better—Katara was made of steel at minimum—, but some part of him had him moving cautiously like he might scare away the moment and the peace it brought.

“Well, go on, then.” Katara’s smile shone in her eyes even though she was too exhausted to curl her lip in a grin. “Hold him.”

Hakoda didn’t warn him about this part.

Aang had never held a baby before. 

“I...What if I...I-I don’t know—”

Katara sighed and gave him a tired but happy smile. “Aang, hold your son.”

Aang’s arms trembled as he took the swaddled bundle. Katara talked softly and instructed him, adjusting his hand, telling him to support Bumi’s head.

Aang didn’t know how to describe how he felt. 

His insides were filled with clouds.

He steeled himself and tried not to shake so much as Katara guided his hand away, just a bit, so his arm was still supporting his son’s tiny weight but letting his fingers have room to crawl up the bundle of downy blanket.

Bumi’s skin was so soft, like the moonpeach blossoms in their garden. His son squirmed to Aang’s touch like he was still water that Aang had just disturbed. 

“Katara, he’s—Katara, what do I—?”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She laughed. “He’s just waking up a bit. He’s like you in the mornings.” She kissed Aang’s cheek and compelled him to lean his shoulder to hers. 

“You can touch him, you know. He won’t bite. He doesn’t have any teeth.”

“What if I hurt him? O-Or scare him? What if—?”

“Aang.” Katara cupped Aang’s face. “He is your son. You are his father.” She kissed between his eyes and settled her cheek on his shoulder. She ran her hand over Bumi’s head before pulling away, for the moment. “You won’t hurt him.”

Aang swallowed. His son squirmed when Katara pulled away. Bumi was looking for her. His closed eyes scrunched up, and his lip wrinkled. 

The tender life in Aang’s arms swallowed the beginnings of a whine, and Aang’s heart broke and ran over with every feeling. 

“Hey, hey, hey—shhh...” Aang didn’t know whether he was moving on instinct or impulse, but he was too focused on the groping fingers, so very small, fitfully finding their way out of the blanket. Everything about himself became second nature—even his lungs threatened to abandon their attention to keep breathing in order to focus on his son. “Shhh...It’s okay, Boom...It’s okay…”

Katara kissed Aang’s shoulder and scratched his back. Pride oozed out of her smile. 

Aang touched his finger to one of Bumi’s groping hands.

Aang’s entire world stood still.

Bumi paused mid-squirm and immediately latched on. He wasn’t letting go.

His little hand pulled back into the warmth of his blanket, and Aang was so attuned to his every movement that he let his finger be dragged closer, too.

Then Bumi stopped pulling, content with the splayed hand blanketing him. 

Aang was laughing and crying before he realized it. 

His son felt safe. With him.

Aang had to keep so many people safe—so, so many—, but they always harbored a slight doubt in their eyes. He was only human. Even he made mistakes.

Bumi trusted him like it was the most natural thing in the world. He felt safe with him. Truly and genuinely safe. 

And he didn’t even know him, yet.

Katara rubbed Aang’s back some more and moved only to kiss his cheek before settling back down, and if he wasn’t holding their newborn son, Aang would have kissed her like they wouldn’t see the morning. He settled with kissing her hair and the part of her cheek that he could reach without disturbing the spot she had nestled herself into, and his heart swelled when she grinned beneath his lips.

She leaned on him, but it felt so much more like she was keeping him up.

“Katara?”

“Hm?”

“Katara, we have a baby.”

“Mhm.”

“Katara, we have a baby.”

Katara laughed, and some of the life returned to her face. “Really? I didn’t notice. I wonder where it came from.”

“Have I told you lately how gorgeous and amazing and wonderful and phenomenal you are? Because you are. A hundred million times over.”

“Your hyperbole is eloquent as always. I hope Bumi inherits it.”

Aang shook his head and laughed. “Oh, nonono. He won’t be anything like me. I can assure you that much. That would be horrible.”

Katara looked at him, concerned and somehow able to pick up the distress in his voice even though she was struggling to stay awake. “Aang, why would you say that?”

Aang struggled to find the words. He was doing that a lot, tonight. 

The bundle in his arms was perfect. Bumi was his and Katara’s son. 

Bumi was perfect. Just like his mother.

Aang wasn’t perfect. He was as far as could be from perfect. 

Aang could only wish that he wouldn’t taint his son. Bumi was a part of Katara. The two of them were worth—more than worth—protecting. 

He could only hope that Bumi wouldn’t turn out like him. 

Guilt weighed Aang into the mattress. His arms were shaking before he realized it, but Katara’s hand rested over his where it wound under and around their son.

Their son.

Their beautiful baby boy.

Katara’s thumb rubbed up and down his knuckles. 

“Well, I hope he takes after you. I hope he has your little laugh that can brighten up a room with just a giggle. I hope his heart is as big as yours is, too.” She cuddled closer to Aang’s side. “He’s going to love you so, so much.” 

Aang didn’t know which of them Katara was talking to, but he sagged while Bumi twitched, his delicate fingers finding a fold in Aang’s robes small enough for his hand to grab onto. 

Aang’s heart soared. 

“Hey, there...Hey, there, bud.” Aang brushed the barest bit of the back of one of his fingers on his son’s tender cheek—so soft, too vulnerable. Aang didn’t know why he expected rejection. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Bumi. My name’s Aang.” Aang hesitated. “I’m your dad.”

The words left his mouth, and Aang couldn’t stop his tears if he tried.

He said it again, just to hear it—to make sure this all wasn’t some beautiful dream. He didn’t know why he was waiting for someone to tell him that it was.

“...I’m your dad.”

Bumi smacked his lips and held the finger on his cheek. 

“I’m all yours, buddy.” He kissed his son’s head, and he kissed Katara’s, too, when he pulled back. “Always—I will always be yours. I love you more than you could ever know, and I will always be yours.”

Katara leaned over. She brushed back the few silk-thin threads of hair on Bumi’s head and kissed him.

She kissed Aang, too, first on the dying trails of tears on his cheeks and then on his lips. His smile kept her trapped for longer than her shaking muscles could keep her up, and they were both laughing when she slumped against him again. 

They didn’t talk for the rest of the night. Words weren’t needed. 

In that moment, their very souls were peeled raw and exposed, and Aang and Katara tenderly wove into themselves the newest joy to claim a place in their hearts. 

At some point, Bumi was in Katara’s arms again, holding onto and bonding with his mother.

Aang sat behind them. He laid at enough of an angle that Katara didn’t have to keep herself up, and he molded himself like armor around his family. He pressed his cheek to Katara’s temple and bent his knees up to sit like castle walls keeping his two treasures safe. One of Aang’s arms wound around Katara’s, and he rested his hand over hers so they were both cradling their son. 

The wind, content and curious, pushed and pulled the warm feeling in the room like it was trying to stretch out the moment and make it last forever. Aang painted the back of Katara’s hand with his thumb and drew the lapping currents of air. The wind dripped tiny breezes like happy tears, welcoming into the world the new life that had air braided as deeply and as tightly into the strings in its soul as in Aang’s. 

Aang’s other hand laid on his son. His fingers reached under Bumi’s chin and brushed the barest tip of his pointer finger to his son’s cheek.

Whenever his heart threatened to spill over, Aang gave Katara tender kisses to her hair, cheek, and wherever else he could reach. He eventually rested his chin on her shoulder, and he grinned impossibly wider when Katara leaned her head to his and relaxed. She took down every one of her barriers and put herself and Bumi in Aang’s care, trusting him unconditionally. 

Something like pride filled Aang’s chest and made him feel bigger and stronger than he was. 

Bumi, one hand already clutched to Katara, squirmed fitfully, almost looking like he might be afraid. His tiny arm blindly grasped into the void and reached into an emptiness that made his face scrunch up all the more.

But then Aang pointed out his little finger to catch Bumi’s hand when it flailed past. 

And Bumi recognized his father’s touch and latched onto Aang without question.

Calm that came from safety settled over Bumi’s tender features. 

Katara smiled and rolled her head back. She nuzzled the curve of Aang’s jaw. Her voice was small and lost volume with every word, but it was right near his ear. It was bellied by her smile and something else that Aang couldn’t quite place even though it had every one of his senses latching onto it and his inner fire threatening to roar. 

“Look at you, Mister Dad. I knew my Forever Boy would be an amazing father.”

Aang held her closer—her and their son. The two halves of his heart teetered on sleep, and Aang swore on his honor, his past lives, and everything that he was or ever would be that he would keep them safe. 

Katara relaxed against his chest. 

Bumi held his finger a little tighter.

Aang felt like he could move a mountain. 

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Rushed to finish this fic because I’ve had a hell of a rough week and needed a fluff-aid-kit. (apologies for any choppiness🙏)

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Not in Front of the Kids

Bumi and Kya were scared to say the least. Daddy almost died.

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A/N: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (feat. angst/hurt/comfort, bestdad!Aang, bestmom!Katara, bestuncle!Sokka, and littleshit!Aang)

Rating: T

Words: 2,690

ArchiveOfOurOwn

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Aang carried them all out of there—little Tenzin swaddled on his back and Bumi and Kya cradled against his front. One of Aang’s arms was badly fractured by the wrist. Katara was pretty sure his shoulder, at that angle, was partially dislocated, too. He hid his wince in a laugh when Kya whimpered and held onto him tighter. 

Suki took little Tenzin from his makeshift wrap—the babe was crying but otherwise okay, to Katara’s every relief.

Katara was planning a million miles an hour as she assessed her husband and children. Bumi and Kya were filthy but favored no injury and showed no wound. Aang, on the other hand, looked like he had thrown himself over a bomb from how badly his robes—or, what was left of them—were singed and torn. He trembled like an engine missing a bolt and about to break apart.

Her children flinched and instinctively held onto their father even tighter once the sounds of the outside came crashing down on them. Katara, already fisting gauze in one hand and healing water in the other, gave her brother a look, and Sokka, cooing gently, tried to encourage the toddlers from Aang’s arms.

Aang was on the brink of collapse. Katara needed to heal him.

It was only with his careful airbending that he spared his kids from hearing his wheezing.

Aang stopped Sokka’s attempts. The kids had enough of people taking them away for the day. He needed them to go on their own.

“Hey, what—,” Aang gritted his teeth and pursed his lips, hiding a cough into a slurred sound like he was clearing his throat. It didn’t help that Kya hiccuped in the same moment and tightened her death grip on her father’s neck. Aang held her closer on instinct—her and Bumi—and smiled into her hair so she felt it. Only then did he give Sokka his attention. “What do ya think you’re doing, trying to take my munchkins from me, eh?” 

Sokka slumped, immediately seeing through Aang’s facade. Behind him, Toph’s clenched fists ground metal on metal to resist the urge to smack her former student. 

Aang felt Katara’s glare and heard what was left of her heart break as she moved closer, fighting the urge to hold her family like she was fighting to keep a tsunami away.

Sokka tried again. “Aang— ”

Aang ignored him. “What do you say, guys?” he asked the shivering, dust-coated bundles trying so desperately to hide in his robes. Aang smiled, ignoring even the thick beads of sweat rolling past his temple and trembling jaw. “You wanna go with Uncle Sokka for a bit?”

The suggestion made Bumi hold such a tight fistful of Aang’s collar that it threatened to cut off his air, and Kya shook her head so hard and so fast that it threatened to come off her shoulders.

“Nonononono!”

“Wanna...W-Wanna stay with D-Daddy…”

Aang’s heart broke not too unlike how the Uprisers cracked four of his ribs. 

Katara’s eyes were a threat and a plea—begging him. Aang would have wondered why she hadn’t talked yet if he didn’t see the tremble in her lip. 

She was struggling not to cry.

And they promised not to cry in front of the kids.

Suki stepped forward, just behind Sokka’s shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself when the children whimpered and curled ever closer. They were wired and on edge with the raw chill of fight or flight; instinct made them desperate to cling to the only warmth—the only safety—they could feel.

Aang nudged them higher so the blood leaking from his abdomen wouldn’t taint them. A shiver wracked him from head to toe, speeding his breathing and kicking his heart into overdrive. 

A quiet hush of metal on metal. “Twinkletoes…”

Bumi and Kya mumbled some more.

His kids were terrified—His wife equally so.

Aang laughed. 

It was a broken, wet sound, but it warmed the air’s tension just as his laugh always did. Even the sirens, shouts, and grindings of earthbending as Toph’s teams worked to rescue evidence and enemies from the crumbling warehouse were drowned out by the familiar sound.

Katara stepped forward. A lecture sat on her tongue and a thousand desperate pleas clouded her eyes.

Kya’s voice was a squeak. “D-Don’t go, Daddy…”

Katara gave him a look that held more than one meaning.

Aang gave her one back—that he hoped was reassuring—before he turned back to their kids. 

“Shhhhh, shhh, shhh…It’s okay, guys. It’s okay...shhh…I won’t be gone long. I just gotta go annoy Mama and do some boring grown-up things for a little bit. And I need to change my clothes—we all do. That sewer was a stinky, stinky place, wasn’t it?” He nudged Kya with his face, and he peeled her away enough from his neck to give her cheek a playful kiss and to give her terrified eyes a smile to look at. “Kya, I think you’re the stinkiest of us all, little lady.”

Kya held their eye-contact just as resolutely as she held onto his neck. Aang smiled wider, and his daughter had no choice but to do the same. 

The smallest giggle escaped her, like a shaft of light peeked through a barely opened door. “...Daddy’s stinkier.”

Aang looked appalled and gasped just as comically even though the sudden intake of air nearly sent him into a fit. “Me? Stinkier than you? I think not, little lady.”

His efforts won him a shy smile that was missing two baby teeth. “Daddy the stinkiest.”

“Not-ugh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

Aang rolled his eyes and didn’t stop smiling. “Well, I see who you take after. I’ll never win with you, now, will I?”

Kya laughed a little more. 

Bumi wasn’t swayed in the least. He held on to where Kya had let go. His voice was strained like a squeak of rubber on tile, thinned so taut that it threatened to break.

“It was scary down there…”

Aang’s smile almost faltered, and it would have if Kya—her confidence crawling back enough to pull away one hand to suck her thumb and rest her head contently on his partially dislocated shoulder—wasn’t looking at him. 

Aang shook like a stone building about to collapse. His face was paler. His robes were darker and so wet in some places that crimson beaded little pools on the fabric’s weave.

Sokka moved behind him. Suki stepped to Aang’s side where his shoulder was shifted at a strange angle. They both opened their arms—just a bit—expecting him to fall but ready to catch him.

But Aang would sooner die on his own two feet before he fell with his kids in his arms.

“Oh, Boom-Boom…,” Aang cooed. Bumi shook and bit his lip so hard that Aang feared it would bleed. He kissed his son’s hair and the darkening bruise on his forehead—the reminder of one of the Uprisers hitting Bumi with a baton—like the gesture might somehow be a bandage. “It’s okay, bud. I know it was scary. I was scared! But you two were so, so brave.”

“You…” Bumi angled his head to look up at the kind smile eager to greet him. Aang’s heart broke a little more. The vulnerability in those little eyes should be a crime. “Daddy was scared, too?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I was! Did you see how big those bad guys were? I thought I was in big trouble until you two brave warriors stepped in.” Aang’s knee threatened to give. Suki stepped a little closer with Toph right behind her. Gauze hit the ground as Katara tried and failed to hide her panic, but she was before her family in an instant. Aang gave her a look, ignored the scalding one he got in return, and turned his attention to their daughter. “Kya, you held your baby brother and did the waterwhip with one hand. One hand! Not even Mommy could do that when she was your age. And I’ll never forget the look on that bad man’s face when you kicked him in the shin, Bumi. He looked like you threw a boulder at him.”

A shy blush colored Bumi’s wet cheeks. The deathgrip on Aang’s collar loosened a bit. “He was gonna hurt Sissy…”

“But he didn’t, thanks to you. I’m so, so proud of you two. Mama is, too.” Aang trembled all the more, but his eyes were laughing and his smile carried a thousand reassurances when he looked at Katara. “Aren’t you, sweetie?”

Katara swallowed twice before she tamed her worry enough to keep it out of her voice. She kissed her children not nearly enough for her heart to stop racing, and her hands, once rubbing their backs like she did when they had nightmares, secretly wound under them to support their weights. Katara was still kissing their heads when she mumbled in a voice as soft as chalk dust but as firm as plated armor. “Very proud.”

Kya, one thumb in her mouth, didn’t move from her bed of robes and Daddy-shoulder as she found a handhold in her mother’s dress. Katara jumped on the chance to kiss her face. Kya smiled and squished her cheek—rounded from a gentle smile—to her mother’s. Quiet pride leaked into Kya’s words. “...I didn’t even cry when he hurted my hands with the rope.”

“Me neither!” Bumi piped up from his new position, relaxed and cradling himself in the dip of Aang’s other shoulder. Katara kissed him, too, and, if he weren’t struggling to stay conscious, she would have taken Aang out at his knees and strapped the stubborn brat to the nearest table so she could heal the blood oozing from his abdomen and onto her hand. 

“Did you hear that, Uncle Sokka?” Aang said. “Two big bag guys and rope, and they didn’t even cry!”

Sokka smiled, looking as tired as Aang felt. “That’s quite impressive, little warriors.”

The kids blushed. Aang kissed their cheeks with sloppily raspberries until they laughed. 

Aang laughed, too.

He was shaking even harder, now.

Katara gave him a look that he couldn’t tear away from. She wasn’t pleased in the least by the answer Aang’s look gave her in return, but she went along with it, nonetheless.

“Why don’t you two tell Uncle Sokka about your brave story? You know how much he loves those kinds of things. He tells you them all the time. He’ll tell everyone about how brave you two were.” Bumi and Kya giggled and held him tighter—not in fear or like he was the only thing keeping them from falling, but in a hug. 

Behind them, Aang gave Katara another look. 

Hurricanes killed fewer men than her returned look was capable of.

But, nonetheless, she understood. Something worse than sadness weighed down her movements as she pulled away, just a bit, and steeled herself in a subtle bending stance.

“Come on, Trouble and Mayhem, off to Uncle Sokka you go.” Aang motioned with his chin for Sokka to come forward. “Daddy’s gotta go do boring adult stuff for a little bit.”

“Cuz you're the Avatar?” Kya mumbled around her thumb.

“A bit, yes. But I won’t be long. I promise.”

Aang was just about to hand them off when Bumi spoke. “...When will you be Daddy again?”

Aang stopped shaking. He nudged both of his kids higher up on his chest so he could look them in the eye. He ignored Katara’s whine—so desperate it was audible—just as easily as he ignored the torn muscles bleeding even more of his life into his robes.

“Boom-Boom, I am always—I will always, always, always, always and forever be your and Kya’s and Tenzin’s daddy.” Aang coughed and hid it in the red fabric of his clothes. Katara looked ready to step closer. Aang silently shook his head. He didn’t stop smiling. “Daddy was the one who threw the rock at the bad man right? And gave him to Auntie Toph?”

“...Yeah.”

“And daddy was the one who carried you three out of there, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And who’s talking to you right now? Daddy or the Avatar?”

“Daddy.”

“That’s right. And your Daddy won’t ever, ever let any bad men hurt you. C’mere.” He gave them both cheek kisses, and they released his robes to touch his face. Aang nuzzled them as gently as he spoke. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Impossible.” He gently kissed them again and gave Katara a final look as he handed their kids over to Sokka. “Uncle Sokka, be a pal and take these two hooligans for a bath and some ice cream. I have to bug their mama for a while. Make sure Kya scrubs behind her ears.”

In the pass-off, the kids’ attention on their father blinded them from seeing his blood being bent out of their clothes. Aang curled his arm over his abdomen just as the spot became warm and wet again.

Kya puffed her cheeks. “Daddy!” 

Bumi giggled at her, welcoming the laugh-slap-fight his sister met him with. Aang kissed Katara’s brow and patted Sokka’s shoulder before the warrior walked off with the kids.

Katara immediately started her pat-down. Her worry was palpable and thick like frozen gel in her voice. “Aang—”

“Wait,” he hissed.

Katara, very ready to argue, looked beyond his shoulder and pulled her finger off the trigger of her lecture. Bumi and Kya were looking at them from over Sokka’s shoulder. Katara waited, frozen more than anything as she was torn between her promise to her husband and her worry for his well-being.

They had promised not to bleed in front of the kids.

Aang kissed her brow in a sweet-looking way—like how he did every night when he got home. 

Two seconds later, the door was shut on the osctrichhorse cart. Six seconds later, it was turned around a corner.

Katara had no sooner glanced at the back wheel of the cart than her husband’s limp weight collapsed into a trembling puddle of whimpers, winces, and soft cries in her arms.

Aang smiled against her shoulder. Wet heat seeped from his clothes into hers.

Katara held him as tightly as she dared and shouted for a bunch of things Aang couldn’t make out. He couldn’t hear anything outside of Katara’s racing heart and the quiver in her voice (that only he could ever hear). 

She held him, and he held her, too. His fractured arm didn’t scream nearly as loudly or as angrily at him as she did. 

“Aang, don’t you dare move another muscle. Do you hear me?”

He laughed—the brat actually laughed. “It’s...It’s hard...not to hear you, sweetie.”

“Aang, this is serious. You’re hurt, damn you, and this isn’t the time to be cracking jokes.”

He laughed again. “I...disagree. It’s the exact...exact time to be.”

“Shut up.” Katara hesitated, glancing about for the supplies she was waiting for, but kissed him, nonetheless. “Just shut up and stay still so I can heal you and be mad at you later.” His eyes met hers. He was still smiling. She kissed him again.

“So…,” He paused to cough, “...So it’s a date?”

Despite herself, Katara laughed.

Aang smiled. She kissed him again.

The lasting images of his family’s grim faces were crushed under the renewed memories of their smiles. He danced the line of unconsciousness, but he forced himself awake until Katara healed him enough to be satisfied, for the moment, that her husband was out of immediate peril. 

His adoptive family gave him an earful—Toph promised to kill him later, and Suki promised to hold him down while she did it. They both gave him a hug and laughed, despite themselves, when he said he looked forward to it. 

Besides, they should have known he wouldn’t die from a rescue mission of this kind.

He and Katara had, after all, promised not to die in front of the kids.

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an exercise in angst because I suck at writing it...I blame discord and A.D.Curtis entirely for making me think about angst while trying to write some bestdad!Aang content