#it would happen as katara is trying to evade one of zuko's fire balls

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt6

hello!! i wanted to say thank you so much for all of your wonderful likes, comments, reblogs, asks, and everything in between!! it really means a ton to me knowing that you guys actually like this story and my writing :) remember that if you have any suggestions don’t hesitate to send me an ask or a message, and pls share if you can!! much love to you all

pt 1

pt 5

pt 7

“Perfect,” he breathed out as his eyes saw the boat. “You hop down first.”

“What? No way! I’m the one that can actually firebend here. You go first so you don’t get hurt.”

“Do you always have to argue with me?”

“Only when your plans are stupid!”

A whisper came through the cell bars. She blinked her eyes open and sat up quickly. “Here to tell me I’m a traitor again?” She called out into the dark. 

“I’m actually here to rescue you but I can call you a traitor if you want.” 

(Y/N) never thought she’d be so happy to hear that voice. “Sokka!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where are Aang and Katara?” 

“It was too dangerous for either of them to come. I snuck on the ship to come break you out.” He jingled a set of keys in his hand. “Got these from the guard I managed to knock out. Impressive, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah, my hero. Now open the door!” Sokka unlocked her cell. She turned around and he quickly made work of her ties. Once she was free, she stretched her hands and fingers, happy to feel the warm sensation of fire underneath her fingertips. “How’d you get onto the boat?” 

“I took a small rowboat and tied it to the mast. If the waves stay calm, it should still be there.” 

“And if they don’t?” 

“I guess we’re in for a swim,” Sokka shrugged. She smiled at him nervously before grabbing his hand and making a run for it. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, but she let her feet lead her anyway. Her goal was to get to the top deck without running into any Fire Nation soldiers. Of course, luck wasn’t always on her side. 

They encountered soldiers at nearly every corner they turned. Luckily, they were so shocked to see the prisoner out of her cell and a Water Tribe boy that they had very little time to react before she and Sokka were knocking them out. 

The pair reached the top deck and doubled over on their knees, breathing heavily. Sokka helped her to her feet and led her to the side of the ship where his boat was. They looked down to make sure it was still there. 

“Perfect,” he breathed out as his eyes saw the boat. “You hop down first.” 

“What? No way! I’m the one that can actually firebend here. You go first so you don’t get hurt.” 

“Do you always have to argue with me?” 

“Only when your plans are stupid!” 

A column of flame shot past the two of them, missing their bodies by only inches. They looked at each other in surprise before (Y/N) quickly hid Sokka behind her own body. She shot fire balls from her hands back at the attacker. The smoke from their attacks dissipated quickly, revealing Zuko. He launched himself in the air, kicking flames at her face. She sent fire wheel after fire wheel at him until he was completely surrounded. She turned to Sokka. 

“You have to go.” 

“No, I’m not leaving you again.” As her back was turned, Zuko rushed towards her. Sokka reacted quicker than she could and used the force of his body to knock Zuko to the ground. She flinched as she heard the breath get knocked out of Zuko’s body. 

Before she could turn back to look at him, Sokka was grabbing her hand and pulling her over the edge of the ship. She yelled as they fell, but Sokka pulled her body into his to shield her from the impact of the water. 

She emerged from the dark waters with a gasp of air and scramble around frantically to find her friend. “I’m right here,” he said. He led her to the boat and lifted her up inside it. She collapsed on the floor of the boat, coughing water out of her lungs. Sokka climbed in after her and immediately began rowing them back to shore, where Katara and Aang were waiting. 

She breathed heavily as Sokka rowed before slowly sitting up. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t like the idea of anyone rescuing me but...I’m glad it was you.” She coughed again and rubbed her neck, her face becoming hot. “I mean, I’m glad you did it.” 

“Even if you do annoy me, you’re still part of our family now. Plus, it’s kinda cool to actually see you use your firebending.” She smiled. “Especially against Zuko, man, it really seemed like he had something personal against you.” 

She laughed bitterly. “I guess you could say that.” It hurt, knowing that Zuko viewed her as a traitor, but it hurt worse knowing what the Fire Nation had turned him into. He was irrational and angry and almost nothing like the Zuko she used to know. 

(Y/N) hated crying, but ever since she had left the Fire Nation, she had been doing a lot of it. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she noticed Sokka looking at her. He stopped rowing to scoot closer to her. “Are you okay?” She wiped furiously at her eyes and cheeks before shaking her head. 

“Zuko and I used to be best friends.” Sokka inhaled a sharp breath. “And we kinda, sorta, were almost engaged.” This time, Sokka let out a whole gasp. “He didn’t always used to be like this, I promise! He was nice and we used to do everything together. I hadn’t seen him in over two years and then when we finally saw each other again...” She gestured loosely around them. “It hurts a lot, barely recognizing someone you cared about so much.” 

Sokka remained silent for a few moments as he stared at her. Then, taking her hand in his own, he tilted her head up to look at him. “I know how much it hurts, losing someone you love. But it gets better. I promise.” 

She smiled sadly. “Thank you, Sokka.” She pulled away from his touch but touched her own face where his hand once was. It felt tingly. 

“Besides,” Sokka said as he started rowing again. “You’re way too awesome to date someone with a horrible ponytail.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t contain her laughter.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The adventures (Y/N) shared with her friends happened at almost every turn. They narrowly evaded escape from Admiral Zhao, had visited the Northern Air Temple and flown on gliders for the first time, and had travelled to the Northern Water Tribe so that Katara and Aang could master waterbending. Their trip to the north had resulted in disastrous circumstances. Once again, (Y/N) had to fight against not only her nation, but one of her old friends. It saddened her deeply to fight against people she had once loved, even if she knew she was doing it for the right reasons. 

The battle in the North had strengthened the group’s friendship exponentially. No longer did (Y/N) feel like she was an outsider, or that she needed to tread carefully in what she said to her friends. She was able to laugh around the campfire with them and also make them laugh, like the time she had told them she had accidentally caught Zuko’s pants on fire when they were children. She felt comfortable and, most importantly, she felt safe. 

She developed a different kind of relationship with each member of their small family. Aang, although older than her but somehow younger at the same time, had become averse to firebending ever since he had accidentally burned Katara. He made (Y/N) promise not to try to teach him and resolved that he would take down the Fire Lord without firebending. She knew it was impossible, but he seemed so upset about it that she agreed. Instead, they spent their time together exchanging history. Aang told her what it was like growing up one hundred years ago, and (Y/N) filled him in on everything he had missed since then. Even the small stuff, like the invention of bubblebaths. 

Katara had more than warmed up to her since (Y/N) first joined their group. (Y/N) had really tried to make an effort with Katara, since some part of her felt responsible for her mother’s death. They cooked together, did the laundry together, and even walked into town together when the boys weren’t paying attention. They eventually became so comfortable around each other that she had poured out her life’s story to Katara on one rainy afternoon. After she was done talking, she realized that when speaking with Katara, she didn’t fear disappointment or apathy. Instead, her Water Tribe friend provided her with the best advice she could give, and a hug warmer than any she’d had in the Fire Nation. 

It was Sokka and (Y/N)’s relationship that took the most drastic turn. After their experience in the Northern Water Tribe and his loss of Yue, Sokka quit his small digs at her. He knew that she understood what it was like, to lose someone that you loved. Their time together was no longer filled with snide comments about the other’s upbringing; instead, Sokka had been teaching her how to fight! She knew some martial arts, since it was the basis of firebending, but she had never fought with a weapon before. On relaxed days, they trained together. She taught him hand-to-hand combat and he taught her how to fight with a sword. 

“You’re a fast learner,” Sokka said after one of their lessons. They sat together at the edge of the lake they had camped beside. He used a stick and a piece of string with a hook on the end to create a make-shift fishing pole. 

She smiled at the compliment. “Wish I could say the same about you.” He shoved her and she laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself. You know I can’t give you a regular compliment. It’d go to that big head of yours.” Despite himself, Sokka let out a smile. 

“You’re so mean to me,” he said. “Are you this mean to all of your friends?” 

“Only to the ones I especially like.” She thought back to her time in the Fire Nation. She could do that now, without getting very sad about it. “Back home, I always had to watch what I said. I was around the royal family a lot, so it was rare when I could really say what was on my mind.” She turned to Sokka, squinting her eyes from the sun. “Teasing is just the way I show that I care. I don’t mean to be well, mean.” 

“I don’t really think you’re mean.” 

“Good,” she grinned, tucking her legs into herself. “Because you haven’t seen nothin’ yet.” 

“Have you guys caught anything yet?” Katara called out. “I’m starving!” 

She stood quickly, shot her flames at the water, and took the fish that floated to the top in her hands. “Coming!” She shouted before running back toward camp. Sokka gathered his things to run after her. 

“You let me fish for an hour when you could do that this whole time?” 

---

i know what this chapter looks like. and yes. but all in due time. 

Tag List!

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[lykegenia]

The Things We Hide Ch. 23

The Southern Water Tribe stood for a hundred years against the Fire Nation, indomitable until Sozin’s Comet tipped the balance in Fire Lord Ozai’s favour. Now, as planned, the South is decimated, Chief Hakoda is a puppet on his throne, and Princess Katara is a political prisoner held in the Fire Nation capital to ensure his good behaviour. But Ozai has little time to gloat. A vigilante masquerading as the Blue Spirit is causing unrest among the people, rebel ships still hound his navy, and right under his nose the South’s most powerful waterbender waits with the patience of ice to strike at the very heart of his empire and bring it crashing down.

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

The old man moved unhurriedly about the room, taking tea from a small tin on a shelf, and then a plate of sweet rice balls rolled in sesame seeds, which had been sitting by the window sill under a laminated paper cover to keep them fresh. Zuko watched him, examined the unhurried cant of his walk and the certain, delicate movements of his fingers, searching for trickery, or illusion. Perhaps the guards had hit him over the head on the way up, and this was a symptom of concussion. Whoever he really was, the Grand Master glanced at him often, measuring him with more thoughtfulness than caution as he bustled about the small room. Every time the aged brown eyes flickered to his scar, Zuko’s temper wound tighter and tighter until he could no longer stand the silence.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

The old man smiled at him. “It has been a long time, Nephew. I understand this must be a shock you.”

“A shock?” he repeated. “The Dragon of the West is supposed to be dead! Where have you been? What are you doing here? What happened to you?”

“Be calm, please,” Iroh replied, holding up a fire-callused palm. “I will explain matters to you, but first, I would be neglecting my duties as a host if I did not offer you tea.”

He ambled over with the kettle of boiled water and knelt opposite Zuko, careful not to spill. This was the Iroh Zuko remembered, the general who liked everything in its proper order, in war and at home, and who could not be rushed or dissuaded once he put his mind to an action. How, then, had this meticulous man ended up here, perfectly calm and collected as he poured hot water over the porcelain to warm he cups, the leader of the rebellious faction working to disrupt everything the Fire Nation was working towards? He had breached the walls of Ba Sing Se, had been lauded as a hero and blessed with honours bestowed upon no other general in history, poised to take the throne of the greatest nation in the world, so why had he not come home? Zuko knew enough of the official line of events to understand he had somehow colluded with the avatar to gain his current position, but that was as far as reasoning could take him.

“Does this mean Cousin Lu Ten is alive as well?” he asked. The implications for the line of succession if so –

“No,” came the muted reply as his uncle scooped tea into the pot. “No, my son died six years ago, at the siege of Ba Sing Se.” The old man cleared his throat. “This blend of tea is particularly fragrant, mixed and dried with jasmine flowers from the slopes of Lu Long Shan. It pairs particularly well with Air Nomad sweet pastry.”

“All tea is just hot leaf juice.”

“A member of my own family, saying such a thing.” Iroh shook his head. “I see your cultural education has slipped in the years since I have been away.”

Zuko only frowned. A lot of things had happened in the time since they had received news of the Crown Prince’s death before the walls of the Earth Kingdom capital – a lot of things that, now with hindsight, had been allowed to happen. The left side of Zuko’s face itched. He ignored it, and dropped his eyes to watch the smooth, practiced motions of the tea ceremony that took years to fully master, first the initial pouring to wash the leaves of impurity, swirling the water around the teapot with precise rotations of the wrist before it was discarded, then the second pouring to steep the tea until it was ready for the drinkers to taste.

“This is one of Katara’s sets,” he realised as his uncle completed the last movement and filled two delicate cups with the finished tea. The porcelain was of finest translucent quality, with intricate patterns painted in blue beneath the glaze, and the more he looked, the more of the interweaving lines resolved themselves into the shapes of animals at play.

“She is a most agreeable young lady,” his uncle said. “Quite the scholar, and skilled in her element. She told me she spent time with you while she was staying in the capital.”

Zuko scowled, then scowled harder at the sympathetic look Iroh gave him, ignoring the ache of stretched, healing tissue in the left side of his face. “Did she tell you she tricked me, and then betrayed me?”

“No, she did not. How is your tea?”

The cup remained untouched on the mat in front of him. He recalled a sunny afternoon, back in another life, when another person had served him tea, and then mocked him with a wry smile for thinking the drink was poisoned. Had he been caught even then? Had she seen it, and spun her web of lies accordingly?

“It’s very… fragrant,” he allowed as he took as sip and put the memory from his mind. “Uncle, all this time, why didn’t you ever come back?”

“I could not.”

Rage boiled inside him. “Why not?”

A sigh. “Prince Zuko –”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“Please be calm,” his uncle repeated. “I know you are angry.”

“Angry?” Zuko scoffed. He slammed his teacup back on the table and shot to his feet. “What do you know? You’re a traitor! You’re working for the enemy – no, you’re leading them! You could be ruling the Fire Nation and yet you’re – you’re here, drinking tea, acting like everything’s okay! Do you even know what –”

The door burst open. Flames sprang to Zuko’s fists, to defend or attack he couldn’t say, but before he could move, Iroh darted between him and the intruders, palms out to ward off fire from both sides.

“Grand Master – we heard shouting –”

“All is well, Juro,” he assured. “Please, leave us.”

The two guards glanced at each other, expressions wavering between uncertainty and obedience, but finally they bowed and retreated back into the corridor.

“Please, Nephew,” Iroh continued once the door closed with a clang, “master yourself. I am aware of what my brother has done, what he continues to do to our people –”

“Our people?” Zuko sneered. “Your orders are killing Fire Nation soldiers.”

Iroh folded his hands across his stomach, hiding them in the ends of his sleeves, and sighed as he shuffled back to his seat, no longer the proud general but an old man who had seen too much, who felt the cold in his bones. For an instant, all tension dropped out of Zuko’s limbs to see such an abrupt transformation, such a difference from the larger-than-life figure of his childhood memories. That, however, only led to a confusion that once again stoked his anger. He wanted to fight, to demand an explanation or at the very least shout blame down upon the one person who could have stopped it all, from the destruction of the South Pole to his own disfigurement. And yet, his would-be opponent offered nothing for him to rail against; he only sat and watched the lazy curl of steam rise from the pot of fragrant tea, frowning at it like a diviner waiting for inspiration.

“When Lu Ten was killed,” Iroh began, “I began to reflect on what I had done, what we, as a people, had done. My eyes were opened. I retreated into myself, let my captains take over the campaign while I grieved, and for a time my madness allowed me to wander farther than most humans ever do. It was in the spirit world that I met the avatar, who was still a young boy at that time, pushed into war before his time. He is the link between worlds and between people. Reflected in him I saw all the evil the Fire Nation had ever done, but also hope that the world could see an end to it.” He looked up. “I am grateful that a similar tragedy was not needed for you to take action.”

He was talking about the Blue Spirit.

Zuko looked away, his skin itching under the steady gaze. “You should have come back,” he repeated, bitterly.

“No.” Iroh shook his head. “The moment I read the message that told of Fire Lord Azulon’s passing, I knew what my brother would do if I returned, and I knew that I could not stop it. So instead, I came here to fight alongside the avatar and help him restore the balance the world sorely needs.”

“It’s that simple, is it?”

“It might be,” the old man replied. “It would depend, however, on the reason why you are here.”

In one of the lower courtyards, the snow had been cleared away and turned into a training yard. While White Lotus guards patrolled the outer perimeter, they left the centre space clear for the avatar and his inner circle of friends and bending teachers, having learned the hard way that despite being young, Aang’s masters possessed formidable skills and the will to use them to devastating effect. Word had spread of Katara’s feat with the three Fire Nation troop carriers, her control of blood, but besides her there was Toph, a prodigy discovered scamming and pickpocketing her way through the southern Earth Kingdom. The full story there was unknown, but she had no issues with bending whole boulders at people nosy enough to intrude on the avatar’s training.

At that moment, a cacophony of explosions shook the surrounding walls, echoing with shouts of encouragement and grunts of effort by turns as the avatar battled air with water. He evaded well, stepping in circles, throwing gusts of air to redirect Katara’s attacks, but unlike the solidity of earth or the charge of fire, the water only twisted around it, folding to the shape of the wind and relentless as it drove him back. Toph had blindfolded him, trying to mimic her own way of sensing the world to train him out of limitations, but so far, thrown off-balance and struggling not to evade the barrage of attacks, the results were… mixed.  

“Spirits, Katara, let up a little, will you?” Haru cried. He was one of the few White Lotus who dared to show up to their training, mostly because he was of a similar age to them and felt more at ease in their company than among the older guards. He had wanted to join up when he heard his father had been broken out of prison and joined the Water tribe to fight through the western wilds, and had proven himself.

Toph punched him on the arm. “How’s he gonna learn then, huh?”

“Do you think the Fire Nation will let up?” Katara demanded breathlessly as she redirected a water whip towards Aang’s head. “Do you think the Fire Lord would just let up?”

“He won’t get the chance if there isn’t an avatar left,” the young guard answered, and winced. The water whip solidified into an ice dagger at the end and ripped through the trailing edge of the avatar’s robes. “You’re meant to be sparring, not doing Ozai’s work for him.”

Katara only growled.

“Keep your guard up, Twinkle Toes!” Toph yelled.

Aang groaned from the other end of the yard. “Do you really have to keep calling me that – whoa!”

“You’re the one who persuaded me to leave Daejeon, don’t complain,” she shot back, just as he rolled to avoid a wave coming to freeze him in place.

“Come on, Katara, what’s going on with you?” Haru pressed, ignoring the familiar argument.

She puffed loose strands of hair out of her eyes and didn’t look at her friend. “Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Sweetness.”

“It’s that guy in the mask,” Aang said, taking off his blindfold and ducking away. “The one who tried to sneak in here.”

Katara growled again. “We’re not finished yet.”

“Nah, I think it’s time to call a break.” Toph’s smirk cut a devious line behind the hang of her hair. “Get over here.”

Aang eased a sigh of relief and carefully stepped around the carnage wrought by the mock battle. A few years ago, he might have used an air scooter, but the time since the siege at Ba Sing Se had worn away the short, bright-eyed boy and left in his place a tall, lanky young man who had witnessed as much as any seasoned warrior. His pace was measured, his gaze on Katara sympathetic in a way that felt heavy on her shoulders. She thought about the gold of Zuko’s irises, how earnest they could be, and how last time she had seen him they had been narrowed in livid, violent hate. That scar…

“It’ll be alright,” the avatar said, laying a light hand on her shoulder. “Sifu Hotman is with him now. He’ll sort this out – he always does.”

“You do know who that is, right?” Haru asked. “Prince Zuko, heir to the Fire Nation throne? Son of the man who keeps sending people to try and kill you? He’s probably here to have a go himself or something.”

“Or maybe he’s here to join our side,” Aang reasoned with a frown.

“Keep dreaming, Twinkle Toes.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

Katara shook her head and stepped away with a placating smile and a roll of her shoulders. “Toph, do you mind stepping in? It’s getting a bit too hot to train and I promised Sokka I’d go find him.”

The earthbender cocked her head, listening to her heartbeat, or maybe just considering whether it was worth her entertainment to be perverse. Finally, the younger girl shrugged and waved her away. “Do what you gotta do. He was getting too used to dodging iceballs anyway.” She grinned. “Time for the big leagues.”

Aang groaned again, but Katara barely heard what he called after her as she collected her things and wound through the maze of corridors that made up the Northern Air Temple. Truthfully, she had no intention of finding Sokka – he was probably holed up with the mechanist anyway, coming up with new war machines that grew ever more inventive by the week. The work kept him focussed, distracted from the march of the Southern winter and the slow countdown of what little time she had bought with her months of being a Fire Nation puppet. With just a few more ships, a few more weeks to let the rescued waterbenders recover, they might have taken the capital. With Ozai deposed, they might have been able to rebuild without fear of having it all torn down again. The war here too was one of attrition, a slow glide meant to slow down the enemy while they figured out a way to get the avatar within striking distance of the Fire Lord. As far as Katara could tell, nobody yet had a plan for what would happen afterwards.

And now Zuko.

She huffed, and started down a twisting path that led away from the temple complex towards a spring she had discovered while collecting herbs. The place was in a grotto screened from the nearest overlooks by thick trees and tall cliffs, and it was her secret, as far as she could tell. The only tracks besides hers belonged to fox-mice and the black, spiral-horned goats that made the mountain their home, and of everywhere she had been since coming to the Earth Kingdom, it was the one place she felt peaceful. The wind through the trees created a white noise like the sea, while the sweet clearness of the water pooled under its thin film of mountain ice like the pond in her garden. Another life.

“At least it’s not snowing today,” she grumbled as she stripped off her outer layers and settled into a beginning stance. The altitude made her a little lightheaded – gave her nosebleeds every now and then – but out here that mattered as little as everything else. She pressed through her forms, lost herself until the sway of her muscles occupied her whole mind. She definitely did not think about the meeting taking place in the Grand Master’s tower room, or about Zuko’s snarling accusations, or the feel of his ruined flesh under her fingers and the unavoidable, unnerving fear that it was entirely her fault.