A/N: Hey guys, I was bored and tired of my current chaptered fanfic (Tables Turned) so I decided to do this lemony, fluffy, humorous one-shot set to random vocab words. There will be mostly Zutara bits, but I may throw in a Kataang for you monk-lovers out there. Hope you enjoy! Read and review please.
As always, I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of the characters. If I did, Katara wouldn't be jabbering at the end of Season three, she'd be too occupied showing her thanks to Zuko. (Because who doesn't love the yin yang complex, right?)
Sadly, I do not own Legend of Korra or any of those characters either… If I did it wouldn't be nearly as good as the real deal, but Mako would have stepped on a lego and Iroh would swoop in to save the day with his bad-assery.
Warning: this is an M RATED FIC! That means there will be profanity, blood, gore, sex, death, dark themes and whatever else I can conjure up in my twisted mind. I may even surprise you with some Yuri or Yaoi. If you don't like any of those things THEN DON'T READ THIS.
If you guys like it, I might post a second chapter! Reviews and Favs encourage me ;)
e·rad·i·cate
[ih-rad-i-keyt]
verb (used with object), e·rad·i·cat·ed, e·rad·i·cat·ing.
1. to remove or destroy utterly; extirpate: to eradicate smallpoxthroughout the world.
2. to erase by rubbing or by means of a chemical solvent: to eradicate a spot.
3. to pull up by the roots: to eradicate weeds.
His boots stomped into the snow, crunching underneath the immense force of the firebender's stride. He was furious, livid, seething. There were no words for the emotions boiling within him…
The foolish warrior was already cast aside, falling headfirst into the miniature avalanche like a bumbling idiot. What the hell was the face paint for anyways? Did he really intend to be frightening with such a ridiculous getup? Zuko let out a breath, heavy and tinged with smoke, but a solid attempt at controlling his temper, for his Uncle's sake, of course.
He was here for a purpose, here on this damned block of ice to find the Avatar, to redeem his honor, and he was willing to do whatever it took to accomplish that goal. If that meant destroying, scorching, murdering, to deliver the man to his father, then so be it. He would eradicate an entire Tribe, the last of the Southern Water Tribe, simply to obtain the Last Airbender.
With these thoughts in mind, he scanned the crowd; the last few members of what was once a great Tribe. He stomped more thoroughly through the snow, catching the terrified gazes of a dozen scattered residents, sending them fiery glares of hatred back. Then, he caught her eyes, and for a split second, he faltered. She was out of place here in this ugly, barren wasteland of water and ice, this place that reeked of tanned furs and musty old boots thawing by the fire. He could not eradicate her. No… Peasant as she was, he could never do something like that to a girl like her.
Piercing blue eyes locked with his, and he was taken aback by her unbridled fury, a fury to best even a firebender. Again, he thought how she was so out of place, because in this foul Tribe she was too beautiful. "A water lily amongst the reeds…" as his Uncle might say, but she was more than that; she was the morning frost, clinging to the delicate petals of a lotus flower, wind rustling her hair as the flower would rustle, and skin a certain shade, striking, like the creamy shade of the flower.
Then, as if snapping from a dream, he remembered his place; remembered who he was and who she was and who he was looking for. He reached out, as if to grab her, instead clutching the elderly woman at her side. There would be time for girls later, for now his sole mission was finding the Avatar…
strin·gent
[strin-juh nt]
adjective
1. rigorously binding or exacting; strict; severe: stringent laws.
2. compelling, constraining, or urgent: stringent necessity.
3. convincing or forcible: stringent arguments.
Korra burst through the study doors, a whirlwind of tanned skin and blue clothing, her hair whipping furiously at her face. She was out of breath; taking a moment to prop her hands on her knees, bending over slightly to catch herself.
The General glanced over his papers at the exasperated Avatar, a single eyebrow quirking as he took in her current state. "… Hello, Avatar Korra…"
"I, tol‒" she broke off, heaving in a deep breath. "you. Call me‒" another heaving breath, accompanied by a cough. "Korra. Jus' Korra…"
The General cleared his throat, still staring at the girl before him. 'Avatar Aang was never so hasty…' "I see… And to what do I owe the pleasure, Korra?"
"Friendly visit…" she gasped out, moving shakily to plop into one of his spare chairs, in a very Korra-like fashion.
"May I ask why you're running?"
"I may, or may not have started a fight between two belligerent soldiers…"
His eyebrow quirked higher, Korra thought it should have disappeared underneath his hairline by now, but alas, he had forehead to spare. "I have drunk men onboard?"
It was her turn to clear her throat, remembering the unspoken rule amongst the crew, the code. She wasn't officially one of the crew, but… she had agreed to said code, meaning what happens in the quarters, stays in the quarters. This includes gambling, drinking, profanity, perverse tales, and even promiscuous behavior… On the other side of the proverbial coin, this was General Iroh, how could she lie to those molten gold eyes and that face? Sure, he was uptight, methodical, entirely too composed, and extremely stringent, but he was also one of her closest friends. 'And possibly more…' she admitted to herself, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze.
"Korra?"
"Hn?"
"Stop fidgeting and answer my question,"
"I was sworn to secrecy," she announced, ceasing to pick thread from the hem of her shirt and returning his gaze.
"That just answered my question."
"Fuck you," her face was something between a pout and irritation, Iroh found the gesture utterly endearing, nonetheless his brow raised impossibly higher.
"Was that a threat, or an invitation?"
She felt heat rise to her cheeks, her gaze averting to the bookcase at her left. "Maybe both…" she murmured under breath, the blush spreading even further, her scrutiny of his literature far too serious to be normal. In her feigned distraction she missed his very un-composed smirk…
up·surge
[uhp-surj; uhp-surj] verb, up·surged,up·surg·ing, noun.
verb (used without object)
1. to surge up; increase; rise: Water upsurged. Crime upsurged.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," he rasped out, yanking his fukumen away from his face, freeing himself of the clingy fabric. It was pitch black‒save the nearly full moon shedding bluish rays of light over the world. Over the bluffs Appa waited, ready to take them home.
Despite the firebender's strained words, he grasped at her hair, pushing her deeper, relishing in the feel of her mouth on him, on his erection. He groaned, his head falling back against the tree behind him, feeling the bark catch his shaggy hair, but not minding as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his deprived body. He pulled her up last minute; drawing closer to join their lips once more. This wasn't supposed to happen…
She moaned into his open mouth, hands grasping at his clothed body, hating the restrictions of cloaks and robes and 'all this damned fabric…' "I didn't get to finish…" she whimpered, referring to the gratification she was in the process of giving when he demanded her mouth elsewhere.
"This wasn't supposed to happen…" he groaned again, and Katara was quite frankly irritated that he wouldn't shut up about it. Months of sexual tension, mixed with apprehension of the man causing the tension was enough to drive her mad, and now she had her chance.
"Would you just shut up?" the waterbender snapped, catching bewildered amber eyes. "I don't care if this was supposed to or not, it's happening, get over it."
His gaze was suddenly more intense, and without warning he flipped their positions, pressing her back into the tree and ravaging her neck with his lips, and teeth, and tongue… Katara was sure there would be evidence later, but now right now she didn't have a care in the world as he pushed aside her cloak and robes, ripping one side of her bindings down to exposed a breast. He promptly washed away every thought she ever had when he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily and rubbing her heated sex through her pants. She threw her head back as he had, feeling her pleasure upsurge tenfold, and moaning loudly into the cool Fire Nation night, thankful for once that they were somewhere entirely too remote to risk being caught.
He rose to her lips again, but didn't kiss her, instead lingering for a while with a pained expression. "I won't take you against a tree." The banished Prince must have been in agony, why else would he sound so tortured?
"I'm not waiting to get back to that fiasco," she replied bitterly, referring to the camp filled with nosy earthbenders, protective siblings, and naïve monks. She was grabbing at the only opportunity they had alone, their first time, and she wasn't letting his ridiculous code of honor get in the way.
"It's not hon‒" she smacked a hand over his mouth.
"Don't even go there. Just stop talking,"
With a heaving sigh he begrudgingly nodded, freeing her lower body of her trousers and bindings, hefting her onto his hips and sliding slowly into her, tantalizingly slow, so much that she wanted to scream at him and beat his back with the same hands that were currently clutching at his broad shoulders. But she didn't, because all she could think about was how Tui and La always had it right…
"Ying and yang… Push and pull… Sun and moon…"
ca·noo·dle
[kuh-nood-l]
verb (used with object), verb (used without object),ca·noo·dled, ca·noo·dling. Slang.
1. caress, fondle, or pet amorously.
Sokka was the canoodling type, cuddle was too gentle a term for the affection he would so often express for his beloved Suki. He was the corny romantic with no concept of what should or shouldn't be said or done, simply put, he was a buffoon.
It baffled the other members of Team Avatar to no end; they would sit back, watching the scene unbeknownst to the couple as they mused silently over the male warrior's failed attempts at "seduction," and "romanceness." (as Sokka had so eloquently put it.) But the truly intriguing part was the grace with which Suki would accept the boy's advances. It was almost inspiring, her level of tolerance, but utterly puzzling.
Today was one of those days; Katara, Toph, and Zuko congregated under a statue of an airbending Avatar, enjoying the cool breeze of the Temple as Sokka went on with his… whatever you called it… by the fountain with said beloved. Aang had whizzed off a while back to do something to the extent of 'there's the best wild tiger berries by the river!' and promised a prompt return before dinner, leaving the three less-naïve benders to their own devices, and thus preoccupied with free entertainment for the next hour.
"Remember when he picked that bouquet of flowers?" Toph reminisced, lounging on a fallen piece of ceiling as she "watched" the scene unfolding with her feet.
"Mhm… and they ended up being the white jade blossoms?" Katara forced back a laugh, watching as her brother dramatically bowed to his bewildered girlfriend.
"He had a rash for a week…" Zuko mumbled, arms crossed and looking especially broody, horror hidden just beneath the surface as The Duke began to play a broken tune on the Sungi horn.
"Let me guess, he asked you to make sure it wasn't on his 'throatal flap?'"
"Yepp," the firebender snorted out a laugh, turning his gaze momentarily towards the blue-eyed bender. "I'm just glad we stopped him before he gave it to Suki…"
"Y'know, I feel bad that Pops had a similar experience, but you're right. Suki really would have dumped him after that," Toph piped up, picking out her toe-jam.
Suddenly, Katara's face screwed up in a look of horror, directed at the pair currently floundering around the fountain.
"Is he‒?" Toph began, Zuko finishing for her with a look to rival even the waterbender's.
"‒Dancing?"
The couple before them was nothing more than an awkward tangle of arms and legs, and every so often Suki would utter an "ow!" as he stepped awkwardly on her toes. Between the cries of pain was the insistent and broken sound of the horn, as well as a mystery instrument Teo was playing with even less skill than the little boy at his side. Haru was suspiciously absent…
"He looks like a komodo rhino in mating season…" Zuko remarked, his single eyebrow screwing as much as Katara's perplexed expression.
"What is he doing to her face?"
Sokka leaned in, vigorously rubbing his nose against Suki's in what was supposed to be an affectionate gesture; the Kyoshi warrior smiled politely, but didn't look terribly enamored.
Yes, Sokka was certainly the canoodling type…
muse
[myooz] verb, mused, mus·ing.
verb (used without object)
1. to think or meditate in silence, as on some subject.
2. Archaic. to gaze meditatively or wonderingly.
Aang stopped to watch his lover‒his future wife‒bend her element, swirling it around her in loops and arcs, her movements as flowing as the liquid she commanded. He smiled; she was truly beautiful, an awe inspiring woman, a blessing from the Spirits. Little had he known, eight years ago, that she would be such a permanent fixture in his world. Permanence, something very rarely found amongst his people, but with her, it was necessary, for how could he live without her?
Artists use a word to express the object of their inspiration, to define what makes them tick, what urges them to work harder, to motivate themselves to be better in their profession. It was no different for Aang; he never rested, was always improving, always training, always learning, even as a fully realized Avatar the elements were his job, his duty to the world. Sometimes, he would need the same inspiration, something to stimulate him and bring him alive inside, to foster his mind, body, and soul.
For this there was Katara; she was his inspiration, his driving force. Her loving embrace and open heart would feed his soul, her gentle hands and nighttime kisses would ease the aches of his body, and her playful banter and endearing words would enrich his mind. She was the soothing wind that carried him higher, the solid earth beneath his human feet, she was the fire and passion that burned in his soul, but most of all she was the healing water that washed away the troubles of everyday life. She was his encouragement, his foundation, his muse…
ru·nic
[roo-nik]
adjective
1. consisting of or set down in runes: runic inscriptions.
2. having some secret or mysterious meaning: runic rhyme.
"No!" Katara screamed, the darkness of the bedroom shrouding his killer in an eerie light as the waterbender's lover crumpled to the floor.
"I can't believe you Zuzu, a Water Tribe peasant? Really?" the condescending female voice scoffs in the silence, turning on the huddled form of her victim's lover. "Father always said you had no taste, I suppose he was right…"
The waterbender dove then, reaching out for something, anything. She felt the hair stand up on her neck, saw the unnatural blue glow of Azula's lightning, felt the searing, horrible pain as she fell victim to the crazed Princess as well. Then, the girl was gone, disappearing to leave the couple groveling on the floor of Zuko's bedchamber. Azula knew they would die, all she had to do was wait, right?
Katara reached again; her body convulsing in the fetal position, Had her intestines somehow spilled out? It felt like it… Her heart must've been stabbed too…
Zuko clutched her hand, pulling her roughly to him and embracing her trembling form, he skipped the pleasantries, the "we'll be okays" and the "just hold ons." They both knew all too well, this was the end, and they both thought, maybe that was ok. They had not lived long lives; they were merely in their late teens‒Zuko's twentieth birthday being only a few days away‒but they had been happy, while it lasted... They were lovers, best friends, and the closest confidantes; they had fostered dreams of a future, a world in which they would grow old together, a world rich with rebuilding the broken Nations around them, a world rich with the love they had both come to understand. And though those dreams would never be realized, they took comfort in the possibility that such a world could have existed, they took comfort in the idea of "forevermore."
She could feel him slipping, his breathing becoming irregular, and his strong, warm heart had long ceased to beat in the tune she knew so well; he was dying, and she was not far behind.
"This wasn't supposed to happen…" he whispered in her ear with a half-smile, reminiscing on times long past, nights succeeded by the rising of too many suns. Silently, he wished he could go back to those moments, the sweet moments of discovery, the spot where destinies merged for lifetimes.
"Shut up…" she whispered back, laughing shakily as she fisted the fabric of his robes in her hands.
He shuddered out his very last breath; his body becoming dead weight against her, his soul leaving this realm for the Spirit World, and though she knew she would meet him there, a tear still rolled down her cheek, and a stifled sob still escaped her lips as she ran a finger over his perfect nose, his mortal features, one last time.
She felt death take her, a blackness that faded to the supernatural glow of a world far beyond that of the mortals; the scenery becoming beautiful trees in the late of Autumn, reflecting the golds, reds and purples of the season. She took in a breath, smelling the crisp afternoon air. 'There are seasons here?' she thought, spinning in a messy circle, forgetting all else for the moment in her silent reverie.
Then, laughter filled the air around her, the sound distinctly masculine and raspy. She whirled, coming to face her lover, her Lord, her other half, leaning against one of the brightly colored trees. He was breathtaking here; his eyes were brighter, his hair even more of a contrast against his skin, and the mark he so hated was completely absent, he was whole, and though she secretly missed something so distinctly Zuko, she couldn't help but be enchanted by his picturesque spirit form. She also couldn't help but throw herself into his arms, wrapping her thin arms around his familiar broad shoulders, eventually pulling back to plant a passionate kiss on his perfectly curved lips.
"I missed you," she breathed, smiling as he grinned back, amber eyes glinting with unburdened mischief and joy.
"You were right behind me." Words were different here, colored runic symbols floating audibly into the air in bright clouds, taking with them emotions and washing soulds nearby in feeling.
"I know," she nodded, kissing him once again. "But I still missed you."
"Hmmm…" He pondered for a moment, staring into her bright blue orbs with a searching gaze. "I told you so." he whispered, winking.
"Huh?"
"I told you, I would love you longer than time itself…"
She grinned; he had kept his promise, and she could get used to the idea of an eternity… Or maybe, just maybe, they would go on to live another life. Maybe they would help the next Avatar, maybe they would find their friends again, maybe they would remember. But one thing was for certain; they would be inseparable from this moment on and forevermore, and someday they would find each other again, find themselves in entirely different lives, but somewhere along the line he would whisper his famous words, and they would just know…