Aug 7
Fanfic update!
Security
Chapter 6: Power
seen from Sweden
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Slovakia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Yemen
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Poland
Fanfic update!
Security
Chapter 6: Power
Thank you to everyone who participated! Please enjoy all the works submitted!
By prompt:
Different First Meeting • Dating Speculation • Slang/Language Differences • Jealousy • Rivals • Acting Like A Married Couple • Getting Drunk/High Together • Recognizing Mako’s Trauma • Sick Fic • First Kiss • Flirting • Sleepy Mornings • Growing Old • First Gentleman/Consort Mako • Secret Relationship • FREE DAY
By Type:
Fanart • Fanfic • Meme
they know something he doesn’t
I cannot emphasize enough how much I hate prince wu and by extension Wuko. He’s a whiny obnoxious man baby and he does nothing but be annoying the entirety of book 4. He’s my least favorite character in the entire avatar universe, I hope he gets fried alive. His entire relationship with mako also feels like weird ship bait which I hate even more. Mako also clearly doesn’t fuck with him idk how people actually like wu or wuko. To each their own I guess but I truly hate this guy.
Some sketches I never properly finished except they're all mako lol (wu too I love him 😢😢) (should've posted this on my main but wtv)
Love Blossoms In Any Form
So I was just thinking about kuvira nd bataar jr who i realized I find attractive. So I decided to age up Prince Wu and give him a twin! Yay happy ending for bataar and another girlfriend that makes him look like a troll in comparison!!! d=(^o^)=b
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺♛༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
Bataar Junior was a little surprised when Kuvira told him she wanted to take one of the royal twins as insurance to make sure the Republic didn't fight back. Of course he ultimately went along with it. She was the Great Uniter, his fiancée. Surely she didn't have any ulterior motives, right? She wouldn't do that.
Yet here he was, watching Princess Liyan, or rather just Liyan now, in her cell. Thankfully she wasn't taught to metalbend, so they didn't have to use platinum. Though he wouldn't be surprised if she secretly could. The woman was so quiet, eerily quiet. Nothing like Prince Wu.
"You don't have to stay here. I can only earth bend. You made sure there wasn't even a single piece of rock in here." Liyan spoke calmly. She braided a few strands of her hair, sitting criss cross on the floor. "Though, if you have any jasmine tea, I'd appreciate some."
Bataar jumped when he heard her speak. No one else on this train liked jasmine except him. Not even Kuvira. "I suppose I could have some brought to you. In a metal cup."
"I can't bend metal either way. Though, I hate the taste. I much prefer wooden utensils. I can't say the same for Wu." The Princess carved her initials into the metal wall of her cell using a snapped off piece of a chair leg.
"How did you get that!?" He unlocked the cell, taking the piece of a chair leg. "You can't have that!"
Liyan looked up at him, unimpressed. "No one said I couldn't make use of my materials around me."
Bataar sighed, rubbing his temples. "Well you can't, alright?" He shook his head as he left the cell, locking it behind him. "I'm going to trust you won't try to break out while I get your tea."
When he returned, Liyan was in the same spot as before, only, hanging upside down from the bars on the ceiling. "Are you going to get down?"
She opened an eye before grabbing one of the bars and swinging onto her feet. "Thank you." The woman took the tea cup and saucer from his warm hands.
"At least you have manners like some people." Bataar sat down. He messed with some spare parts in his hands to pass the time.
Liyan silently drank her tea, letting silence fill the void. "You're engaged, no?"
"I am." He fidgeted with the simple platinum band on his finger. "You?"
"No. Wu takes up my time. As well as General Iroh's visits twice every two weeks." She hummed. "I prefer their company anyway. May I request a cell with a window? I like to watch the stars before I sleep."
Bataar considered it for a moment. She couldn't bend metal or sand so getting her a cell with a window couldn't hurt that bad, would it? "Fine. But it'll be locked at all times."
She didn't instantly negotiate, just nodded and accepted the decision. Liyan stood up quietly and followed him to a different jail cell on the train. "Thank you."
"You're welcome I suppose." He replied, locking the door behind her. "I have to talk to Kuvira, so you'll be alone for a moment. Don't think about trying to escape." Bataar closed the door to the next compartment behind him.
"Try to escape. Please. This is why I'm quiet. The doubt that I'm an average bender creeps in slowly but surely." Liyan muttered, shrugging off her outer green robes. She cracked her knuckles and metalbended the bars open, leaving the outer robes hung on the chair.
"Thank you for being kind when the others weren't, Bataar. Perhaps we'll meet again. I don't know where, I don't know when, but I know we'll meet again. Maybe on a sunny day." She bent the ceiling of the train compartment open and climbed out. She disappeared with the dusty, hot air.
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺♛༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
On a sunny day, Liyan walked down the aisle in a long white dress and a bouquet of greenery. Waiting on the altar was Bataar Junior, who was going to be her husband. In her bouquet was two small white roses, intertwined. They'd found them together after the final battle in Republic City, growing in the cracks of an old sidewalk.
During his vows, Bataar held her hands in his. "You are my destiny, the sun that shined down on me when all I had was rain. I thought that trusting the person you care about was true love, but it's not. I made that mistake the first time. But with you, I can breathe and not lie awake at night thinking about how I almost let my family get hurt."
Tears rolled down Liyan's cheeks, behind her, Wu was bawling into his sister's bouquet. He had demanded to be Man of Honor for the wedding and she gave in fairly easy. "It's just- so emotional!" He wiped his eyes, Mako pulling him away so Liyan could say her vows.
"Thank you, Wu, for being so supportive in such a loud way." She smiled. "I never believed in true love's kiss or soulmates as a child. Everyone always saw me as the quiet twin who didn't bother making friends because she had her brother. That was true, but then I was taken and I met you. I could tell you knew from the start I could metalbend. I had a feeling I would meet you again Bataar, and I'm glad we did. Because I can't imagine life without you."
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺♛༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
Teehee they're so cute. You can imagine how they met after the battle if you want and comment to give me ideas <33
The Golden Koi was, by all accounts, one of Republic City’s finest establishments. It prided itself on its serene atmosphere, its meticulously crafted dim sum, and a hushed elegance that offered a respite from the city’s electric hum. Tonight, however, that serenity was about to be obliterated by a force more chaotic than a rogue mecha tank: Prince Wu.
Korra, Mako, Bolin, and Asami had managed to secure a rare, peaceful evening together. Bolin was enthusiastically tackling a plate of jasmine-steamed bao, while Korra recounted a particularly frustrating political negotiation with a newly elected city councilman. Asami, ever the picture of grace, sipped her tea, offering insightful commentary. Mako, naturally, was already looking stressed, monitoring the doors for any sign of trouble – a habit honed from years of police work and, more recently, being Prince Wu’s minder.
Trouble, however, was already at their table, disguised in a surprisingly well-tailored silk tunic. Prince Wu, having just finished a lengthy monologue about the merits of his latest proposed Earth Kingdom cultural exchange program (which mostly involved him singing traditional Earth Kingdom folk songs, badly), suddenly pushed back his chair with a dramatic flourish.
"You know," he announced, his voice carrying just a little too far, "this restaurant... it has a certain je ne sais quoi. A stage, if you will, just waiting to be graced by true artistry!"
Mako’s fork clattered against his plate. He didn’t even look up as he buried his face in his hands, resigned and trying to pretend he didn’t exist. A low groan rumbled from his chest. This was it. The moment he had been dreading since Wu had joined them.
Korra’s eyes widened, a flicker of panic in their depths. "Oh no…" she muttered, remembering the time Wu had attempted to serenade a badger-mole and nearly gotten himself flattened.
Bolin, mid-chew, froze. His brow furrowed in a complex expression of intense discomfort mixed with a baffling, almost morbid curiosity. He wanted to look away, but couldn't quite manage it. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. A very, very loud train wreck.
Asami, usually unflappable, pinched the bridge of her nose. A sigh escaped her, barely audible. She was just annoyed and dreading this. Her evening, carefully planned for relaxation, was about to be shattered. Her mind immediately leaped to the logistical nightmare of dealing with a public disturbance, perhaps even a potential lawsuit for damages to the restaurant’s fragile ego.
Wu, oblivious to the collective internal screaming of his companions, had already risen and strode purposefully towards a small, unoccupied platform usually reserved for a traditional instrument player. He cleared his throat with a booming resonance that made even the water in their teacups ripple.
"How’s it going folks?!" he boomed, striking a pose reminiscent of an ancient Earth King addressing his loyal subjects – or perhaps a particularly flamboyant vaudeville performer.
A smattering of polite claps, clearly from confused tourists, mingled with a few genuine but bewildered chuckles. More prevalent, however, were various shouts and murmurs from the more discerning patrons. "Quiet down!" someone yelled. "We're trying to eat!" came another, sharper retort. "Is this a new act? It’s terrible!" a gruff voice grumbled from a nearby booth.
Wu either didn’t notice or entirely ignored the negative feedback, his massive ego acting as an impenetrable soundproofing. His smile remained fixed, unshakeable.
Mako, still slumped, managed to lift his head just enough to whisper-shout, a desperate plea in his voice. "Please, get down. Wu. Just get down."
Wu, however, merely waved a dismissive hand. "Sorry Mako," he announced, loud enough for half the restaurant to hear, "but these people demand entertainment! They deserve to have a performance by the rightful leader of the Earth Kingdom!" He puffed out his chest, completely missing the irony of his 'subjects' actively booing him.
Mako just let his head fall back into his hands with a defeated thud. He knew it was useless. It was always useless. Wu was a force of nature, a well-meaning, utterly self-absorbed natural disaster.
"Prince Wu is here to bring you joy!" Wu declared, his voice ringing with misplaced conviction.
At a table near the back, a man in a rather striking, horizontally-striped red and white sweater leaned towards his friend. "Eating here was your idea," he muttered, clearly regretting his decision to dine out.
His friend, looking genuinely confused and a little nauseated, just stared blankly at Wu.
Wu, with an intensity that could only be described as predatory, locked eyes with the man in the sweater. A spark of inspiration seemed to ignite behind his gaze. He began to descend from his makeshift stage, moving with the slow, deliberate steps of a predator stalking its prey. He drew closer and closer to "Sweater Guy" and his bewildered friend.
"And I like to call this number," Wu announced triumphantly, stopping directly beside the striped sweater wearer, "‘Striped Sweater’!"
He launched into song, a tuneless, off-key melody that grated against the ears. "The best to wear a striped sweater is all the time!" Wu crooned, his voice wavering between a bizarre falsetto and a booming baritone. "One with a collar," he gestured wildly, "turtleneck," he mimed a high neck with a flourish, then, without warning, he reached out and firmly pinched a handful of Bill’s (for that was Sweater Guy’s name) sweater material near his shoulder. "This!" Wu declared, practically shouting into Bill’s ear, "That’s the kind!"
Bill, who had been trying to shrink into his seat, was now frozen, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. His eyes glared daggers at Wu, promising a slow, painful demise. Wu, utterly oblivious, even put his arm around Bill, pulling him into an awkward, one-sided embrace. Bill visibly bristled, his shoulders tensing as if preparing for an inevitable physical confrontation.
Wu, having finished his tactile demonstration, cheerfully released Bill and began to walk away, his voice still echoing through the dining room. "Cause when you’re wearing…"
But he was cut off. Bill, freed from Wu’s embrace, finally exploded. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU LUNATIC!" he roared, slamming his fist on the table.
His outburst served as a catalyst. Other patrons, fed up with the cacophony, began to join in. "SIT DOWN!" "GET A REAL JOB!" "YOU’RE RUINING DINNER!" "BOOOOOOOO!" The polite murmurs had crescendoed into a full-blown chorus of angry shouts and boos. Plates clattered, conversations ceased, and the restaurant was no longer an oasis of calm but a roaring arena of public disapproval.
Wu’s confident smile faltered. His eyes, wide with sudden, dawning fear, darted around the room. "That one..." he squeaked, his voice losing its theatrical flourish, "special... sweater..." He tried to finish the line, but the yelling continued, a relentless, angry wave of sound. A bread roll whizzed past his ear.
Panic rising, Wu let out a high-pitched yelp. With the agility of a startled cat, he scrambled back towards his table, launching himself not onto a chair, but directly into Mako’s waiting, slightly slumped arms.
Mako, caught off guard, grunted as the full weight of the Earth Kingdom Prince landed on him. Wu clung to him like a terrified limpet.
"Mako!" Wu wailed, burying his face in Mako’s shoulder. "This crowd is insatiable!"
Mako just stared blankly at the ceiling, Wu’s weight pressing down on him, his face a picture of utter defeat. Korra slapped a hand to her forehead, a soft, exasperated laugh escaping her lips despite herself. Bolin, finally letting out the breath he’d been holding, burst into a nervous, slightly hysterical giggle, then quickly stifled it as he saw Mako’s murderous glare. Asami simply reached for her purse, pulled out a stack of yuan, and placed it on the table with grim finality. "Let’s get the check," she said, her voice strained, "and then let’s get out of here before they decide to riot."
The Golden Koi’s serene atmosphere was, for tonight at least, utterly annihilated.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 13: I'll Play Along
Summary:
Mako struggles with how to tell Ursa that he's inexperienced, and stumbles on a book that might help him figure some things out.
