#lord zuko

[i-put-the-ass-into-sass]

AVATAR IN CONCERT (premiere in London)

This was so so beautiful, I cried multiple times (just like everyone else I could see), we had Bryan Konietzko introducing it, Jeremy Zuckerman closing it, and a special extra song at the end!! I think that was the first time secret tunnel had been played by an orchestra and sung by hundreds of people at once (apart from that concert in the Toph comic lol)

[fullmetalavatar]

I really like the reference to the avatar comic "the search" in the episode Masks! It's almost like netflix is setting up "something " in the future. 😏

[bluboi-365]

Lord Zuko of The Fire Nation 🔥

[fanficsiwillneverwrite]

On my umpteenth rewatch of lok, I had a sudden interest in old Zuko…. And let’s just say another wip is brewing in my brain now about Zuko and his involvement in book 3 :/

Zuko looks in the mirror and sees only a face he no longer recognizes: old, long past its prime. An old wound haunting him, even how many years later. It happened so long ago; only yesterday. Shaky hands rub the rough skin as the memory takes hold. It was for the better, he once told himself long ago. It led him on the path of good, toward the light. But the thought of giving such a punishment to Izumi… He admittedly was not perfect when it came to raising her, but he was no Ozai.

Through the reflection, he sees Akari, the Firelord’s senior aide, emerge from the golden doors. “Lord Zuko,” she says with a respectful and low bow. Her voice is distant, muffled, despite being so near. Just a reminder of his aging body. “The Firelord will see you now.”

He nods, acknowledging her, but his focus remains on the stranger–no, the old man–staring back at him, copying every move he makes. Akari backs away to give him space. And he touches a few wrinkles. Uncle always said they were a sign of living, far better than the alternative. His laughter still echoes in his mind; the steam of hot tea still lingers around him.

He moves away from his reflection and into the throne room where his daughter sits high above him in all her glory. Zuko smiles as he bows–and his old bones crack as he bends. Another reminder that the old man in the mirror and the boy who thought his destiny was to capture the Avatar were one in the same. “The Firelord has requested an audience with me. I would be interested in knowing what for.”

“Hello Dad,” greets Izumi gently as she stands. She approaches him, a familiar look of care mixed with concern permanently captures her face each time she looks at him. He knows it well. Old age brings on pity. No, Uncle would say, old age brings on care. They hug and, suddenly, he is drunk with the scent of familiarity. Once Mai’s favorite perfume worn now by a grieving daughter who wants only to keep her mother close. “How are you?”

“I am fine, daughter,” he assures, his hand squeezing her shoulder as if to emphasize the fact. Sadness lingers around them with Mai’s passing just over a year ago. “Though, perhaps it is I who should be asking you that very question. Avatar Korra has led us into a new age where spirits and mankind must now live together in harmony. As the Firelord, it is your duty to make her decision a reality. With some guidance from me, of course, if it doesn’t interfere with my nap time.”

She rolls her eyes as a smile forms. “I think sometimes I can make better sense of your snoring than your political babble,” she teases.

“Be careful what you say next, daughter,” he shoots back. “I still have claim to the throne, you know.”

“Like I’d give it back,” she tells him playfully. But her face turns serious. And like a stuck bandage, the news of why she has summoned him is ripped open quickly to ease the anticipation: “I’ve just received word from President Raiko in Republic City. It seems… Harmonic Convergence has brought back the Airbenders.”

His heart feels as if it has sunk. The Fire Nation’s greatest burden, their deepest regret—now, so suddenly, fixed? He would have to see it to believe it, especially if Raiko is the one reporting it. All the man cares about is the votes. “What?”

“I haven’t yet received word from Tenzin, but there has been at least one Airbender sighting in Caldera alone. Most, it seems, are in the Earth Kingdom.”

“That could mean trouble.”

The Earth Queen remains bitter over land now the United Republic of Nations and everything surrounding it, Air Temple Island included: Earth Kingdom territory, she makes false claims. While her father was timid, mostly oblivious as a leader, Hou-Ting is loud, demanding, and a complete tyrant.

Zuko turns, hurrying out the room. There is no time to waste. “I’ll head straight to Ba Sing Se—”

His daughter is quick to stop him. “The Fire Nation should not have any involvement there, dad. You know this.” His intent would be to liberate this new wave of Airbenders from the grasps of great tyrannical power, but the world might view it as another Firelord’s attempt to again dismantle the Air Nation. He blinks, seeing clearly now as his daughter faces him again. “Furthermore,” Izumi continues cautiously; they’re always dancing around his state of retirement. The nation is hers–it is her birthright–but he makes diplomatic trips around the world to assure peace, to continue what he and Avatar Aang started so long ago, yesterday. “A man your age should really be fretting over pai sho and gardening. Not the state of the world.”

The man she is describing is Uncle. Not him, never him. “I will not turn my back on the world when it still needs me,” Zuko insists. His reflection shows an achy old man with a story long ago completed, but as long as his heart still beats and the fire still burns, he can be useful.

“I know,” she says, “but… you can only do so much before it becomes too overwhelming for you.” She adjusts her glasses as a sigh escapes her. “Dad, I care only for your safety–”

“I am still capable–”

“–which is why I think it perfectly sensible for you to take in a ward.”

He stops, hurt–offended. “A-a ward?”

“One of Master Muromachi’s young pupils,” she continues. “Someone who can be your companion. Someone who will watch your back and defend you when you’re unable.”

Zuko huffs, rubbing his forehead in frustration. His daughter thinks him unable, an invalid of his craft now just because of a few wrinkles. Spirits! He is Lord Zuko, Leader of the Fire Nation and the Avatar’s Firebending Master. And she thinks he needs a sidekick? Some noble boy defending his honor? “No, absolutely not. I don’t need some child protecting me.”

Izumi rolls her eyes. “This isn’t a suggestion, dad. Master Muromachi is expecting you. We’ll go down there this afternoon.”

He stomps away stubbornly, like a child not getting his way. The roles were reversed long ago, just yesterday when he was still in charge, when he was still capable. “I can choose my own ward, can’t I?”

“Of course–”

“Then I’ll go on my own, if it pleases the Firelord.”

He exits before she can answer. Anger boils within him. He hates being the man who is old, the man who needs help. Most of his friends are gone now and this new generation is perfectly competent, his daughter being one of them, but the fire still burns inside him. The face in the mirror is the face he saw long ago–yesterday–when there was no scar.

The Fire Nation Academy for Gifted Boys is a secondary school for sons of nobles. It teaches Nonbenders how to fight through the art of swordsmanship. Only the best, or most wealthy, can attend. And the training is rigorous, not for the faint hearted. Tom-Tom became one of the academy’s pupils when he came of age, mastering sword fighting at the age of fourteen. Firelord Ozai always dismissed the school’s teachings, saying Nonbenders could never truly be masters without the ability of bending. In his final years, without his bending, his father learned the way of the sword, though he never tried to understand the relationship between a man and his blade, thus never becoming a full master of the craft.

These days the school is just as rigorous with Master Muromachi, a stern and, dare he say, cruel man, in charge of this new generation of fighters. The boys stand straight in a line when Lord Zuko arrives. Eyes forward, not one hair out of place, not a single crease in their suits. Their movements are in sync as they all bow low when Muromachi introduces him to them.

“You have honored this school with your presence, Lord Zuko,” Muromachi says with a bow of his own. He moves aside for Zuko to properly examine his students. “Please, choose anyone you think is worthy.” He gestures to the tallest of the group: tan skinned and golden eyed, Zuko sees a darkness in him that brings only suspicion. The way the boy eyes him; it’s not like the others. “Eigo here is our star pupil.”

“Is that so?”

Muromachi gestures again and Eigo assumes a fighting stance as he draws his sword. He dances with it around Zuko–impressive but, still, there is something about him that he doesn’t quite like–before returning to his spot in line.

“Very good,” Zuko tells him, “though I find your lack of moderation rather… unsettling.”

The boy’s expression darkens at the criticism. Not suitable for his company at all. Muromachi moves on without a visible reaction: “Pao,” he calls. And the next boy moves skillfully around the room with his blades. A mindless routine, practiced over and over again until perfection. He does what he is told and nothing more.

“Your moves, though highly skillful, lack originality,” Zuko notes. He will find something wrong for each of them. He does not need a protector, nor does he want one.

Muromachi becomes more tense as they move down the line, each boy weaker than the last. This Academy is a show and these so-called warriors are nothing more than performers this day in age, not like how they used to be, he will tell his daughter later over tea. That is why he did not choose a child today. That is why he should not have a ward.

Finally, they arrive at the last: the smallest of the group. A softness exists within him that the other boys do not have. Short hair above his ears cut in a wonky bowl shape and fierce blue eyes with a sparkle in them that shows he is ready, not to win but to fight for what is right—he knows those eyes. It hits him, suddenly. A girl, disguised as a young boy.

“Lee!” orders Muromachi, sweating profusely at this point. Zuko instantly understands the name is false, an alias to hide her true nature.

And the girl disguised as a boy begins her dance around Zuko. Her movements are hesitant. She nearly trips over her own two feet. Her two swords do not move together as one but rather as completely separate entities. An amateur compared to her peers. Muromachi is visibly appalled by her performance, but remains silent out of respect for his guest. Zuko, admittedly, is intrigued by the girl. Why would she openly go through such turmoil?

[deimagines]

Her Falling and Her Legacy *Part 3 ( A ATLA and LOK Imagine)

Been away for so long cuz of college. But I am HERE! and I am not leaving! Part 1/2/

General Iroh II arrives at the Air Temple and Zuko has a dream.

Ba Sing Se

100 AG

Y/N smiles happily that her mooncakes have come out perfectly. It was the first time she had made them, and she was proud of how they turned out. She even gave them a little dragon design on it, circling a jasmine flower.  

She took a careful bite to taste the flavors and smiled.  

“Mmh, not bad!” She says to herself and makes a small plate for her and her roommates. She just wished that Zuko would wake up soon. 

After Zuko released the Avatar’s flying bison, he became sick.  

Iroh said that his aura is changing drastically and was the reason for his illness.  

She sighs in worry but puts on a brave face before placing the plate on the kitchen table.  

Iroh took one and tasted it. A smile was presented on his face. A clear sign that he was happy by the taste. “Incredible! You have outdone yourself, Y/N.”  

“Thank you, Iroh. It’s my first time making these.”  

Zuko entered the room and Iroh presented the mooncakes to him.  

“Look, nephew, Y/N made mooncakes. Try one!”  

Zuko looks at the hopeful gaze on Y/N’s face over his uncle’s shoulder and takes one.  

After taking a bite, he hums lightly. “Pretty good.”  

“Really?” She asked, worry washed away.  

“Yeah. Really good, actually.” He takes another bite.  

“Maybe we should add them to the menu of our tea shop.” Iroh suggested.  

“Okay, but only I get to make them, I don’t want anyone stealing my recipe.”  

“Deal!” Iroh finalizes their ‘business’.  

Northern Air Temple

171 AG

Tenzin watched his pupils, yet again, with frustration.  

It had weeks, but he still has ye tot manage to shape them into the ideal air nomads that he and his grandfather had dreamed of for as long as he can remember. After the close call with the bison herd from getting stolen by animal traffickers, if Kai and the other airbenders hadn’t interfered, he had expected they would at least become more serious about their training. 

He winced as another was hit and out of the spinning paddles. 

Not a lot, but at least a little.  

He sighed once again and continued to watch until one certain pupil caught his attention.  

 At least one of them had expected those expectations.  

“Don’t just stand there, Rookie! Be the leaf!” Meelo orders her as he pointed at the gates with his chest puffed up.  

She looks down at him and then back at the paddle with a steady gaze. She watches as they spin and spin and then something just clicks. 

“A leaf. . . I get it.”  

She took her position and started moving her feet and walked onto the course, eyes closed.  

Tenzin watched in tense, nobody had done it the first time with eyes closed before.  

Yet she did the impossible, and moved like Meelo has instructed, like a leaf. But it wasn’t just dodging, it was like she was dancing. Like the leaf, she redirected any impacts that she stumbled upon her way through the grates and let the wind guide her to safety.  

She finally arrived at the other side, unharmed and lowers of hands together.  

The others looked at her with amazement and envy as whispers broke out. 

“Wow.” 

“She’s amazing.”  

“She makes it look so easy.”  

Bai-La was an incredible pupil. The most attentive, the most graceful and hard-working student that he has ever had the closest joy to have. 

Other than the poor man that he had to demonstrate to shave, Bai-La was the only one who willingly volunteered to have her hair shaved. Technically, she asked for a half-shaved look to not lose all of her hair. He hesitated, but she was the only one who volunteered.  

She passed every test and breathing exercises as well as understanding his lectures and stories, excluding.  

If she kept it up, she would be at the same level as his children and Korra.  

And . . . another thought had haunted his mind ever since he saw her eyes.  

Y/N. The girl who would’ve been the Fire Lady.  

Zuko’s first love.  

Though he was not sure if it was just a coincidence, Bai-La's eyes and face were the exact copy of the girl who would’ve been his aunt.  

Everyone knew the story. How Y/N The Gentle fought and aided future Chief Sokka, his would-be wife, Suki and future Chief of Police Toph to stop Fire Lord Ozai’s invasion.  

Only Y/N was sacrificed for the cause.  

His mother once told him of how broken Zuko was when he heard of the news of his beloved’s demise, but he had to remain strong as he was the next Fire Lord. He managed to find happiness in Mai, but even she knew that she couldn’t compete with the girl who had stolen her husband’s heart, their respect for each other is unreal.  

In fact, the now Fire Lord, name, Izumi was half of Y/N’s name, Y/N Izumi, to honor her in memory.  

Which brings him to another situation. 

“Alright everyone, that’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow after our morning meditation.”  

Most of them sighed in relief and even went on their separate ways in groups or alone. Bai-La jumps done and lands on her feet gracefully.  

As she was about to leave, Tenzin stopped her.  

“Just a moment Bai. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”  

“Yes, Sifu Tenzin?” She looks up at him.  

“Follow me.” He says, and they made their way out of the training grounds.  

They reached one of many balconies of the temple and he took out an envelope from his robes.  

“Here.” He hands it to her. “Letters from your family. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise of bringing them here, but the letter that you sent to them was most helpful.”  

Bai-La smiles gratefully and bows to him. “Thank you. These mean more a lot to me than you can think of.” She opens one and immediately begins to read.  

Tenzin nods. “I’m glad. . . there is something else that I need to bring up.”  

“Yes?” She looks back up at him.  

“As you know by now, our situation with the world leaders have been a little. . . strained with the idea of airbenders being back to society.”  

“You mean President Raiko?”  

Tenzin didn’t reply. “Our first impression was not . . .impressive, per say. Two days from now, General Iroh will come visit by to write a report on our activities and how fair we are doing.”  

“You mean spying?” She teases lightly.  

“Yes.” He couldn’t help but to comply with her humor. “But General Iroh is a good man. The one he’s working above him, however.”  

“No need for more explanations.” She raises her hand to stop him. “But I still have yet to understand what it has to do with me?”  

“Well, other than Kai and my brother, you Bai-La have the greatest potential out of all the other airbenders. In fact, you’ve become a sort of prodigy. Which is why I want you to be a representative of the airbenders once the General arrives to build his report.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” She says in surprise. “I am . . .”  

“Just don’t get it to your head.” Tenzin teases as he places a hand on her shoulder. “You should prepare, the General will be here next week.” 

“Yes, and thank you, Sifu Tenzin.” She bows with her fist connected to her palm.  

He returns it and they began to walk away until Bai notices something. 

“Is that an old oven?”  

Tenzin looks over his shoulder and sees a familiar oven that brought up wonderful memories.  

“Why yes, the air acolytes use it, but they’re a little old fashion these days. I used to make cakes with my father here once, Bumi did not like them.” 

“Were they that bad?”  

A secret smile made its way up to the corners of his mouth. “Not exactly.”  

“Well, then, can I use it? I would love to make some mooncakes or some sweetbread.” She had sparkles in her eyes as she explained. 

Tenzin raises an amused brow. “I don’t see why not. Here, let me show you a recipe my father taught me.” 

*** 

Bumi was happily taking a stroll until something fell from the sky.  

His head was suddenly covered in frosting and cake bits. He shouted at the sky in anger, knowing exactly who was responsible. 

“TENZINNNNN!”  

Tenzin and Bai-La looks down from the balcony and they both laugh. They then bow to each other. 

“Your aim is perfect, my bright pupil.”  

“Thanks, Sifu Tenzin.”  

*** 

The Fire Nation.  

The winds brushed his hair wildly as he stood there in the courtyard where the fountain lay, the exact one from Ba Sing Sae. The one where she took him there by accident.  

Cherry blossom petals suddenly fall from the sky. Where did they come from? He doesn’t know. 

“Zuko.”  

His eyes widened and he slowly turned. The wind blowing through his hair as the owner of the voice that had called out to him was full in his sight.  

There she was.  

Young and beautiful as he remembered.  

Her dress was the one she wore on their first date. 

He felt his youth coming back as he suddenly morphs back into the young lad he used to be when they were still together.  

He ran to the other side of the fountain, where she was and crashes her into a hug. She let out a giggle as he twirls her around until he settles her back to the ground. Her head burry on his chest as he hugs her.

“I missed you.” He whispers into her hair.  

“I missed you, too.” She muffles into his chest.  

“This is another dream. Is it?” His tone of content did not waver.  

“I’m afraid so.” She confesses. “But it’ll be over soon.”  

His hold on her tightened at those words. This dream always ended the same way. He begs her to stay longer, but she always says no.  

“Please. Just a little longer. A minute even.”  

“You don’t understand, Zuko. It will be over soon.”  

He frowns, this was different. He pulls away to look down at her. “What will be over soon?” 

She raises a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar.  

This was different too.  

But he didn’t care, he leans into the touch and grabs it to kiss the palm of her hand.  

“You’ll see.”  

He suddenly wakes up.  

He sat up and looked at the morning sky from his open window.  

It has been days since he arrived at the Fire Nation to protect Izumi. She was reluctant to take the decision, saying that she didn’t need any protection, but he insisted. She has only heard of Zaheer and the Red Lotus, never seen them of what they are capable of.  

His hands clutched the silk duvet as he imprinted the words of his first beloved. 

It’ll be over soon.  

But what did she mean by that? 

*** 

Bai-La sighs as she wipes the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand after setting the last batch of mooncakes on tray. She smiled at her grandmother’s signature design on the treats as fond memories began to unfold. She looks at the ready mooncakes that were packaged in boxes. At the sight of it, there was enough for a whole fleet. Which was what she was going for.  

Ikki was there too, sitting near the baker on a rail of the balcony munching on a cake that Bai had given her. “Mmh! This is the best mooncake I ever tasted.” She pauses. “Don’t tell my mom I said that.”  

Bai only smiles. “I’m glad you like them! It’s my grandmother’s recipe, never changed and never left eaten without a single crumb behind.”  

Ikki looks at the number of mooncakes. “But why are you making so much? Is there a party? Are we having a party? Is it someone’s birthday?”  

“Nope,” Bai answers quickly to cut off any remaining questions that the little girl has. “These are for the Air Acolytes as a thank you for helping us settling in the temple and for the Fleet of the United Republic of Nations as a welcome present.”  

Ikki looks at the many boxes. “That’s a lot of mooncakes.”  

“Ooh!” Meelo made himself known. “Mooncakes! Score!”  

He was about to touch the ones that were already packed but Bai lightly taps his hand with a wooden spoon. “Apbububu- No touchy. Those are for the Air Acolytes and our guests tomorrow.”  

Meelo rubs his hand in dismay, but his mood suddenly changed when a plate of mooncakes was in front of his face. 

“These however are for airbenders.” Bai smiled.  

He gladly takes one and takes a bite. His eyes sparkled as his tastebuds sings his mood. “Whoa! It’s like I’ve been taken to Flavor Heaven!”  

He then takes more and more to stuff in his mouth, but Bai pulls that plate away from him as she laughs. “Hey! Save some for the others, Little Sifu.”  

Little Sifu was a nickname she had given him since she started her training, Meelo didn’t seem to mind since the word Sifu is being used directly to him.  

“Alright, since you two are here. Mind helping give these out till’ dinner time? I’ll put in a good dozen of mooncakes for you once we’re done.”  

“You trade in a hard bargain, lady.” Meelo comes by and takes a few boxes with Ikki.  

“But the temple is so big. How are we gonna take these to everyone by dinner? I’ll be tired from all the walking.”  

“Who says anything about walking?”  

Ikki and Meelo shared a look.  

*** 

An air acolyte was done cleaning the windows, when suddenly, he hears the familiar sounds of wind whistles.  

Before he could look behind, three figures passed by him, and he felt something in his hands. He looked down and was surprised to see a white box in his hands with a sweet aroma coming from it.  

He squinted to the culprit that gave him the box and see Bai-La with the airbending children on air scooters with other boxes balanced on the top of their heads.  

“Thanks for your hard work!” Bai shouted.  

The air acolyte raises a brow but opens the box, nonetheless, he takes out a mooncake and smiles to where the benders headed before taking a bite.  

“Mmh!” 

*** 

Like Bai had hoped, they managed to deliver the mooncakes to every acolyte at the Temple by dinner. Some were surprised but mostly happy by the thoughtful treats.  

Everyone finished their meals and the airbenders were surprised by Bai’s mooncakes waiting for them.  

“So, this is what the commotion was about within the acolytes.” Tenzin said as he takes one.  

“I wanted to thank them for helping us settle in the Air Temple.”  

“How thoughtful.” Pema complements as she takes a mooncake as well. She noticed the design and admired it. “What a lovely touch.” 

Bai smiled. “Thank you, it’s my gram-gram's signature.”  

“These are delicious!”  

“I know right!” Ikki was happily eating them.  

Bai sat in her seat as she was being thanked and asked for making mooncakes again from airbenders and acolytes alike. One even asked for the recipe, but she shakes her head.  

“Sorry guys, family secret. My grandmother would haunt me if shared the recipe from outside of the family.”  

The mood in the room changed drastically after hearing the comment.  

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Bai.” Tenzin apologizes. 

The young woman only smiled and shakes her head again. “It is fine, Master Tenzin, it was a long time ago. . .” She fiddles with something that tied around her neck that Ikki seemed to be the only one to notice.  

“What that?”  

Bai pulls it up a bit to show it. It was a half pendant that shined brightly in the light.  

“It’s an heirloom, it belonged to my grandmother once, before she passed away. “  

“Pretty! But where’s the other half?” Ikki tilted her head. 

“I don’t know, my grandmother never really explained it to me.” 

As Bai tries her best explain the mystery, by mere sight of the necklace, Tenzin was suddenly pulled into flashback, a memory that he had almost forgotten.  

When Lord Zuko was telling them the bravery of the only fallen friend during the war.  

Y/N the Gentle.  

The portrait the Fire Nation Palace displays for her honor was made with as much detail as possible, the beautiful smile and kindness showing in her eyes. But what really stuck to young Tenzin the most was the necklace that the young girl was wearing around her neck.  

One that took a similar resemblance to the one that Bai-La has in her hands.  

And if he remembered the tales that Iroh had told him when he became older, Lord Zuko had the intension to marry Y/N after they brought peace to the Four Nations. But that promise was taken away from him when Y/N sacrificed herself to save his uncle and Toph Beifong.  

He frowns at the sight of the necklace as the possibility ran through his mind.  

After dinner, he stood up and announced that he had something to take care of in his study.  

Once there, He rummaged through the bookshelf until he found what he was looking for. He opens it and flips through the pages until he stops at a chapter where the first page shows a picture of the same portrait, he’s seen in the Fire Nation Palace. He takes a small magnifying glass from his desk and moves it around the portrait until it stops to the model’s neck.  

A pendant around the girl’s neck gave him the clue he needed for his question.   

*** 

Tenzin and the acolyte elders watched as General Iroh’s fleet had docked the port on a blimp. The General himself was walking down the ramp and he saluted.  

“Greetings, Tenzin.”  

“General Iroh, it is good to see you.” 

They shake hands.  

“You as well.” 

“I’m sorry you have to be put up with this assignment.”  

“No trouble at all. It’ll be a short visit, but at least me and my men have a time to relax, away from Republic City.”  

“And the President.”  

Iroh smirks. “Especially.”  

They began to walk and catch up, they have not talked since their ordeal with Unalaq. Once they reached the outskirts of the Temple where they were airbenders training on top of the poles. Iroh and Tenzin, and Iroh’s first mate, who was taking reports and writing them down on a clipboard, watched as they all worked through their training, some have fallen but few have managed to stand their ground on top of the poles. 

“As you can see, they have a long way to go until they become proper airbenders.”  

He winces as another pupil falls.  

“Very long. Also, if you have the time, there’s something that I need to discuss with you.”  

“What-” Before Iroh could even finish, a voice call from above. 

“Look out!”  

One of the pupils jumped with a powerful gush of wind by accident and suddenly fell on the General himself with a loud thud.  

“Ow.” Iroh croaks as the pupil gets and apologizes repeatedly and bows many times, knowing who exactly he had dropped on as Iroh turns to his back. 

A gasped was heard from above.  

Suddenly, a sound of soft wind was heard, and a pair of legs was delicately floating down to the ground with airbending and lands in front of Iroh. He looks up to see that it was a woman close to his age. 

The stranger leans and offers her hand.  

“Are you alright?”  

He took it and almost froze when he looked up and caught her eyes with his own. They were so bright and beautiful.  

But his admiration was brief when she tugged his arm up and he snapped out his gaze and stood.  

She was a short woman with long hair, yet the side was shaved off, it was styled in a very delicate way as well as edgy.  

He clears his throat, remembering his manners. “Thank you.”  

She smiled as Tenzin came to her side. 

“Iroh, this is Bai La, one of the freed airbending prisoners from Ba Sing Se and finest pupil in the temple.”  

“Hello.” She bows. But when she straightens her posture back, she moves her hair away from her face when a breeze passes by. 

Iroh then had a look of realization but was able to hide it from the woman before him. A look that Tenzin had predicted.   

“I hope you and your men are hungry. The air acolytes and I prepared a welcome dinner in honor of your visit.”  

“Yes. Thank you.” Iroh could only answer as his mind was plagued with possibilities because of her face.  

“Hey, Bai!” Kai from above calls for her. “I thought we have a bet going on?”  

“Coming!” She turns back to the General. “See you at the dining hall.”  

She then jumps with the help of airbending to set herself back on top of the poles.  

Tenzin finds himself back at Iroh’s side.  

“She’s. . .” He hesitated, yet Tenzin knew already what the Crown Prince was going to say.  

“Yes. Exactly.”  

Iroh had returned from his military training from the Northern Water Tribe. His mother took him on a walk, and they suddenly found themselves in the hall where all his forefathers and mothers portraits hanged, including the heroes of their nation. 

His mother, who suddenly stopped at one specific portrait that which she had mentioned was one of her favorites because of the story behind the person’s cause and bravery.  

Yet, she had surprised Iroh then with a single sentence.  

“You know. . . I used to hate her.”  

Iroh’s eyes widened a bit as his mother confesses.  

“When your grandmother Mai told me of Y/N, I grew angry at your grandfather, wondering why he could ever disrespect the woman who gave birth to me. Whispering her name in his sleep and she cried every time.” 

She closed her eyes and opened them, filled with wisdom, yet despair. “But she explained to me that on the day of Sozin’s Comet, when Y/N was lost, he became a broken man, almost unrecognizable. That’s when I knew that I couldn’t hold on to that anger anymore, especially on a brave woman who gave her life to save the world.” 

Iroh places a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I‘m sorry you had to go through that, mom. It must’ve taken a great deal of strength to accept it.”  

She smiles and looks up at him. “Thank you, my son.” 

They both continued to look at the portrait. Admiring the woman who could’ve been Fire Lady. 

The general continued to watch Bai as she jumps from one pole to another circling with Kai to see who can stay the longest.  

“But. . .are we even sure?” He asked.  

Tenzin whispers to him. “Look around her neck.” 

Iroh squints and sees what Tenzin is referring to watch for. It was a pendant, broken in half. A pendant he was all too familiar with.  

“We can’t know for sure. Have you talked to her about this?”  

Tenzin looks at Bai with a conflicted gaze. It was clear that she had become his favorite student. He tried to keep all equal feelings for his airbenders but Bai was a kind and bright being that had the potential to become one of the greatest Airbending Masters.  

“I just don’t want to overwhelm her.”  

“You might now have a choice.” Iroh states in a calming manner. “With things going on at Ba Sing Se and the Red Lotus, there might not be a chance to tell her. Or . . . him.” 

Tenzin looks back and watches as Bai laughs to whatever Kai was saying. Lord Zuko was  

“No, there might not be.” He sighs. “I’ll arrange a private meeting with her. Will you join us?”  

Iroh nods as he continues to gaze Bai. “Of course.”  

Tags:

@treestarrrrrrrr @mayxsx @nani-nani-nani @lifesanenigma @letsthedogpackandthecats @evelyn-4034 @serenityhvl @fandomsfanman @shoxji

[kidcataldo]

They climb over a few large spirit vines to discover they’re in Little Wolf Cove, a mostly Water Tribe residency before Harmonic Convergence took it out. Now, just another dead zone. Chief Sokka’s statue greets them as they enter, cracked and tilted by the vines wrapped around it.

Beifong moves to get a closer look. Mako expands the fireball in his hand to brighten their surroundings. She scoffs at the sight of it. “He’d be begging Korra to free it from the vines. Or, have Raiko commission another one,” she tells him. Grief briefly haunts her as she stares up at him. “If he were here, anyway,” she adds before moving on.

Mako takes a moment to look at it alone as Beifong resumes her search. The boomerang once in his hand now lays in the dirt, small vines clinging to it. He thinks he remembers seeing him once as a kid. During a parade, honoring some Water Tribe holiday. Mako waves. Chief Sokka waves back. Dad—with Bolin up on his shoulders—ruffles his hair when he looks up at him, prideful. Mom laughs.

It was yesterday…

[randomwritingguy]

The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader) Part 34

Earth. Fire. Air. Water.

For three long years, Korra and I were separated. While she was recovering and recuperating at the South Pole, I started my training as an Air Nomad.

I trained and trained and trained. Trained until my bones threatened to shatter and my heart was a beat away from bursting. I vowed to never let anyone I love to get hurt again.

But as I grew in power, so did our enemies.

Like the Great Uniter.

And what she did set everything into motion.

We just didn’t know it yet.

BOOK FOUR: BALANCE

THREE YEARS LATER – PART ONE

NO-ONE’S POV

“Come on, Jerik!” A rough, heavy voice called out across the field. “Hurry up!”

Jerik rolls his eyes in annoyance. I’m working as fast as I can, he thought to himself. But he knew his father was right to urge him to go faster. The sun was nearly setting.

Placing the remaining crops onto his basket, he carefully lifted it up and started his journey back. The sun blinds his eyes in the angle he is at, but he doesn’t falter. He’s used to it. He keeps on going.

Jerik has been a farmer for a good few years now. His father pressed him into doing it to continue the family tradition or whatever. At least it keeps him busy.

On the other hand, it keeps him too busy. Too busy to really live his life to the fullest. Then again, that’s not really his father’s fault. It’s not his fault their village is barely keeping it together. It’s just the way life is.

The village known as Roku’s Beard has been standing still for years near the edge of the Fire Nation. It isn’t anything special. It isn’t unique. It’s just a small spec on the great and powerful nation from above.

The small collection of buildings and fields have been around since the end of the Hundred Year War. It was once called “Sozin’s Pride” when the tyrannical Fire Lords spread their narcissistic evil across their land and the world for their goals of power and conquest. The villagers named it this to show their support of their ruler or, at least, make it appear like they support them.

Under the reign of Fire Lord Ozai, their village lived in despair. Their crops were failing, their houses were crumbling apart, and sickness was growing. Jerik’s grandfather once told him that when he was his age, he thought the war was going to bring about their end…as well as the world’s.

And then Avatar Aang returned.

And then he defeated Ozai.

And then Prince Zuko, the once banished royal, became Fire Lord.

And then balance was restored.

The world had been saved.

With the war finally at an end after a hundred long years, the villagers restored their home’s original name “Roku’s Beard,” before Sozin started the conflict.

For seventy years, the world continued to prosper. All the nations became intertwined, and the United Republic of Nations was established. Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko continued to improve the lives of many and even after the former’s death and the latter’s abdication, their legacies of peace and balance lived on.

However, like in all nations, there is still poverty.

Poverty that Roku’s Beard is suffering from.

Fire Lord Izumi is a mostly a good leader. She’s kind but stern. Giving but harsh when needed. However, she can’t do everything. She can make mistakes.

Roku’s Beard was one of them.

Although it isn’t as bad as it once was, their village still lives in decay. And now, it’s gotten worse.

Because of Azulon’s Flames.

Every week at midday, the scum and villainy turn up to their homes and force them to give them their food and supplies or they will burn Roku’s Beard to cinders. Jerik has seen it all too much. He can’t remember the last time his stomach was full…if there even was a time.

And their arrival is soon.

“Jerik!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jerik barks out, his irritation growing. “They won’t be here for another hour or two.”

Finally, he sees his father at the edge of the field, the grass blowing gently in the wind. A large man with a thick belly and thick arms crossed, he gazes at his son with steel. His gesture doesn’t contain a hint of panic that was in his words just earlier. Perhaps, he’s trying to brave.

When Jerik finally reaches up to him, the harsh glare softens.

“How much have we got?” He asks him, glancing at the basket in the son’s hands.

Breathing out a deep sigh of disappointment, the younger man glances down at the small amount of crops. “Not enough. I’m sorry, Dad.”

A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly in comfort, and Jerik looks up to see his father giving him a sad smile. “It’s okay, son. Come on.”

Swallowing, he nods.

They begin to walk back to their village and then-

“-They’re here!”

The shout freezes Jerik to the bone.

What?! Azulon’s Flames don’t usually arrive this early!

“Shit!” His father splutters out. “Where?!”

The woman who first shouted rushes up to them and points in their direction. “Behind you!”

WHAT?!

“Jerik, run!”

He doesn’t. Instead, he turns to look.

None of this is making sense. It can’t be them. This isn’t like them.

His suspicions and doubt grow further with what he sees.

Instead of seeing dozens of the violent criminals wearing their torn clothes and slick black leather jackets. He doesn’t see the ostrich horses that usually accompany them. He sees none of them.

Deep far in the orange fields, he sees a single figure...walking to their village.

What?

“Jerik!” His father shouts. “Come on!”

“It’s not them!” He barks back. “Look!”

His father rushes up to his side and he sees what he’s talking about.

The figure stands tall and proud, covered in red and orange. They wear a powerful cape that is blowing powerfully in the wind. They move slowly in elegant steps, so elegant in fact that they make the figure look like a spirit moving with the wind.

“Who is it?” The father asks, his confusion replacing his panic.

As the walking figure gets closer and closer, Jerik sees more of its features. He sees dark skin, hair flowing slightly in the wind with their cape, and, most importantly, he sees the big, bright blue arrow tattoo on their forehead.

“It’s an Air Nomad!” Jerik exclaims, hope filling his entire body. “I can’t believe it!”

“What’s an Air Nomad doing in a place like this?” His dad asks, more to himself than to the others, and Jerik can hear the cautiousness in his tone.

Before Jerik can even open his mouth, the figure rushes forward in a speed greater than humanly possible and stops dead in front of the two villagers, wind blowing violently towards them.

Hands clasped behind their back, the Air Nomad gazes at Jerek’s father, and Jerek himself When they lock eyes with him, he sees a small smile form on their lips. Then, the smile fades away and replaced with complete professionalism and gazes at the older man.

“Are you the leader of the village Roku’s Beard?” The monk asks him, their voice loud and powerful.

At the corner of his eye, Jerek can see his father visibly swallow. Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, he answers the question. “I am. My name is Tukim.”

Then, to everyone’s shock, the Nomad’s smile returns, even bigger than the one before. “Greetings. I am Master Y/N of the Air Nation. It is an honour to meet you.”

The monk proceeds to bow briefly in respect which prompts Jerek’s father to do the same.

“It is, uh, an honour to meet you, Master Y/N.” He says, not really knowing what to say. “I must admit, I am surprised by your presence.”

Master Y/N chuckles. “I would be even more surprised if you weren’t. I hadn’t intended to arrive, actually.”

They weren’t planning on showing up? Jerek thinks to himself, tilting his head slightly to the left. “Why are you here then?”

“Jerek.” His father harshly whispers, scolding him for the blunt and rude question.

Instead of being offended, the airbending master raises their right hand which silences him. “No, no. It’s fine. You have the right to know.”

Master Y/N shifts their gaze to Jerek. “To be perfectly honest, Jerek-I can call you Jerek, right?”

Jerek nods.

“To be perfectly honest, Jerek,” Master Y/N repeats, “I was on my way home after completing a task I had and saw your village. I had a gut feeling I should pop by and have a look.”

Then, almost immediately after the monk finishes their story, a giant air bison land right behind them! Its striking white fur, big black eyes and shiny teeth freezing Jerek to the bone.

His father, on the other hand, jumped back in surprise.

Master Y/N didn’t even flinch. Instead, they turn around and cross their arms to appear displeased. “Spectre, what did I tell you about scaring people like this?”

The air bison, Spectre, lets out a series of grumbles that seems like its way of chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to the villagers, Master Y/N gives them a bashful smile. “I apologise on behalf of my bison. He likes to do this sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” The oldest of the three replies, finally regaining their confidence and posture. “So, you’re here on a whim?”

They chuckle. “Pretty much. While I am here, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you stop Azulon’s Flames?”

Jerek’s eyes widen in surprise when he realises its HIS voice asking that question.

Master Y/N narrows their eyes slightly in confusion. “Azulon’s Flames?”

Tukim looks around frantically as if the mere mention of the gang will summon them from the shadows. Then, he leans forward to the airbender and lets out a whisper, “I think it’s best we discuss this quickly inside. Follow me.”

As they all turn around, they notice a growing number of villagers staring at the newcomer with mystery and intrigue. They haven’t had new visitors in so long.

As the three individuals walk across the village, Jerek can hear mutterings and gossip from the crowd. Mentions of “Air Nomad,” “That’s an air bison!” and “Why are they here?” spread across the area like flies.

Jerek turns to the airbender and sees that they are looking around at the buildings of the village with a slight frown, obviously finding the sight to be unpleasant.

What’s their problem? Jerek thinks to himself, a growing irritation filling him. Do they not like our village?

Finally, after a minute of walking, they arrive. With the ear-piercing creak of the opening wooden door, Tukim walks into his home, followed by Jerek and Master Y/N.

Greeted by the all too familiar site of his dirty, dilapidated, claustrophobic place that was their living room, Jerek lets out a tiny sigh of relief. Finally, they are back inside.

The room wasn’t much. In fact, the square-like area was nearly empty with the exception of a small wooden table and chairs with a little primitive stove in the corner for cooking.

It isn’t much, but it’s home.

“Please, have a seat.” Tukim tells the Air Nomad, and they all sit down. For a few seconds, no-one speaks. Jerek can feel his throat tighten with suspense as he glances between the monk and his father, the former looking around the room with the same frown.

“You have a problem with our home?!” Jerek speaks up with a slight snarl, finally fed up with the nomad’s seemingly disgust at where they were at.

“Jerek!” His father growled out and begins to apologise to their guest, they raise their hand.

“Not at all.” Master Y/N tells them with a genuine look of sadness. “I was just surprised. I assumed the reign of Fire Lord Zuko and the current reign of Fire Lord Izumi eliminated poverty of this extent.”

This makes Tukim let out a bitter chuckle. “I would be surprised if Fire Lord Izumi even knows we exist.”

“Have you not tried contacting someone about it?” They continue, leaning forward slightly in engagement. “I’m sure she would help you if she was aware.”

“Oh, we tried, all right.” The old man says as he leans back in his chair and shifts his gaze downwards, his eyes going dark as he remembers all the vain attempts to bring a positive change to his village. “We tried sending letters to the places of power, but it seems like we are insignificant to them because they never responded to our calls for help.”

“How many letters have you sent?”

“Thirteen.”

Jerek sees the master’s eyes narrow with lines at the edges and their fists clench.

“I’m sorry. I will have a word with Fire Lord Izumi about this when I’m done here.”

This causes father and son to leap forward in complete shock, eyes widened, and jaw dropped. The leap was so fast and sudden that it pushed the table by a few inches!

“You can do that?!” Jerek speaks up, breathless.

Master Y/N nods slowly. “I can’t guarantee anything other than I will make her aware of your situation. All I can do is advise but the decision is up to the Fire Lord.”

Surprisingly, Jerek briefly sees the Air Nomad’s eyes flicker with anger before quickly being covered up. It was for a single second, but it was there.

Were they angry with the Fire Lord? He thinks to himself but doesn’t press the issue. Whatever problem they have, its clear they didn’t want to address it.

“With that out of the way,” Master Y/N continues, not giving Tukim or his son a chance to thank them, “what are Azulon’s Flames?”

The hope that filled the atmosphere vanishes.

“A monstrous gang.” Tukim finally answered, tightness and discomfort in his posture and voice. “They’ve been coming here and stealing what little crops and supplies we have. They’ve been harassing us for a good few years.”

“And you’ve mentioned them in your letters as well?”

“We have.”

The fists of the monk clench tighter.

“I see.”

No-one says anything for a while, the room so dead silent that it could make the bravest nervous.

Then, finally, the monk responds.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Huh?

“You will?!” Tukim and Jerek both let out, even more shocked than before.

They nod. “When do they come?”

Tukim opens his mouth to answer but what comes out isn’t his voice. Instead, a rough voice of another male echoes across the entire village.

“They’re here!”

What?!

“They don’t normally come this early!” Tukim splutters, shrinking back slightly in nervousness. “They usually show up much later!”

“Great…” Jerek mutters under his breath. “Just great.”

Master Y/N rises to their feet and starts walking to the door, not responding to either of the men’s comments. “Stay here. I will deal with them.”

“Not without me!” Tukim tells them, rising to his feet and stands tall to appear confident. “I lead this village. What happens to it is my responsibility.”

The Air Nomad freezes in their tracks. Then, they turn their head slightly to the left. “Very well. Come.”

Jerek begins to follow too but a rough hand land on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Jerek, you stay here.” His father tells him with sterness. “No arguments.”

“But-“

“Listen to your father, Jerek.” Master Y/N adds, this time turning completely to give them a serious look. “Please.”

After a few seconds of an intense stare off between him, his father, and the monk, Jerek finally concedes but not before giving Tukim a loving hug. “Be careful, Dad.”

“I will, son.”

Then, they are off.

Now, if Jerek was any other kid, he would have obeyed to his father’s wishes and stay behind.

But Jerek wasn’t any other kid.

And so, a few minutes after his two seniors left the home, he follows suite. He notices how everyone else has gone back to their own places of solitude, consumed by fear so badly that they can’t even take a foot outside.

Great. That means Jerek can easily hide without anyone ratting him out.

Crouching slightly, the young man shuffles from house to house, occasionally pausing to make sure he isn’t potentially spotted by anyone, until he eventually reaches to the edge of the village with a building as his cover.

There, his father is standing tall to appear confident. The performance isn’t the most convincing but he is trying.

Master Y/N, on the other hand, is a completely different story. Standing beside Tukim, stands someone with authority. Hands clasped behind their back, cape blowing gently in the wind, they radiate extreme power as if that with a flick of a wrist they can wipe out all their enemies in a single stroke.

And, now, the Azulon’s Flames are here.

He sees multiple ostrich horses charging toward the village, arranged in their standard triangular formation. There he can see the infamous black jackets, roughed up and torn clothes, and muscular builds of the Roku’s Beard’s damnation.

However, while in every other day they would rode their ostrich horses to the very centre of the village, this time they freeze at the very entrance at the sight of the newcomer.

At Master Y/N.

Jerek’s blood freezes to ice as the rider at the very front hops off his transport and marches towards the two individuals with his followers behind him.

Karak. Leader of the Azulon’s Flames.

Jerek has never spoken to the infamous man before but he has definitely seen him more than enough. He remembers the all too familiar red and blue dragon tatoos wrapped around his bulky arms, his brown dagger beard and a mismatched pair of gold and white eyes, the latter most likely a result of a gruesome fight. That isn’t even mentioning the fact that Karak was inhumanely tall, as tall of seven feet. He was a giant with giant ambitions.

And as he marched towards them, Master Y/N didn’t even flinch.

“Whatta you doing here, monk?” Karak spits out, voice booming with rage and hatred. “This is none your business!”

His father understandably moves back slightly at the commanding presence the gang leader radiates. The airbending master stays where they are.

“On the contrary,” Master Y/N smoothly replies in a neutral tone, “the moment when innocent lives are harassed and threatened is exactly when it becomes my business. You, on the other hand, are unwelcome here.”

Karak lets out a humourless laugh, head thrown back. All the while, his followers stare at the two with sadistic grins.

When the laughter dies down, Karak stares down at the airbender. “I don’t think you understand, nomad. We are the Azulon’s Flames. We don’t care what others think! We take what we want, when we want! That’s what’s we been doing for years in this dump and its gonna stay that way.”

“I’m afraid not.” Master Y/N responds, not sounding sorry at all in the slightest. “Your days of robbing and ruining these people’s lives are over. You and your gang will turn around and leave and will never return. Am I clear?”

This amused smile on Karak’s face is gone now. “Didn’t you hear what I said? We gonna keep on taking what we want from here no matter what anyone thinks. You must be having bad memory. I suppose that’s what happens when you monks’ heads stay in the clouds for too long.”

The insult doesn’t waver the monk’s confidence. “Perhaps you’re the one who needs to have their memory checked. You will leave and never come back. I will not repeat myself a third time.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will make sure you all will never see the sunlight again.”

In a blaze of fury, Karak launches a powerful thrust of flames right towards Tukim and the Air Nomad!

Before Jerek can even process what happened or let alone rush in and try to help, the nomad reacts faster than their opponent did as they summon a powerful air shield which easily blocks the attack!

“Tukim, stand far away!” they demand in a tone that left no argument. The leader of the village does just that, walking backwards to create some distance.

Before Karak and his goons could retaliate, Master Y/N twirls in a 360 motion at a speed so fast it would look like a blur to the naked eye and flings their arm to the direction of the criminals, knocking all of them back by a good feet and scaring the ostrich horses away and causing them to scatter!

Not giving them the chance to recover from the attack, they proceed to swing and fling their arms around the front of their body like they were made of liquid which causes all of them to float right into the air and spin around. A tornado of men.

Screams of pure terror echo throughout the village as they rise and rise and rise further away from the ground, their shouts so loud and full of fear that it would put a child’s scream to shame. One by one, Jerek sees the villagers slowly exit their homes and advance towards the main event and they begin clapping and cheering, their overwhelming joy of their harassers’ misery so unashamedly obvious.

Their joy must be infectious as Jerek, overcome by it as well, walks towards them as well. His father spots them immediately, eyes widened slightly for a split second before frowning harshly in a disapproval look.

“I told you to stay behind.” He growls, though now it holds no bite.

Jerek shrugs. “Couldn’t help myself. Besides, they seem to be doing just fine.”

Then, finally, Master Y/N stops his motion and the tornado of man falls transforms into a rain of men as they all fall to the ground with a loud THUMP!

When the rain is over, the men lie still. Breathing but unconscious. Alive but their pride now destroyed.

Master Y/N turns to the crowd, a proud smile on their face. “You won’t have to worry about Azulon’s Flames anymore. You can live your lives in peace!”

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause and Tukim gives them a grateful smile. “Thank you! Thank you so much Master Y/N! We will forever be in your debt!”

The Air Nomad raises their hands in a calming gesture, chuckling slightly. “There is no debt to pay. I am merely doing what is right.”

Jerek stares at the airbending master. One person defeated an entire gang by themselves and they didn’t even break a sweat.

“There must be something we can do to thank you.” He speaks up, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. “Anything at all.”

The Air Nomad glances at Jerek, then the defeated Azulon’s Flames, and then back at Jerek again.

“I could use some rope.”

TIME SKIP

Y/N’S POV

“On behalf of all the people of the Fire Nation, I thank you Master Y/N.”

I bow slightly in response to the grateful voice of Fire Lord Izumi. Her voice radiates professionalism and authority, two crucial characteristics for one with such power. Rising to stand straight, I gaze right at daughter of Lord Zuko a good distance away.

When the Hundred Year War ended over seventy years ago, Fire Lord Zuko made a lot of changes to the policies that his forefathers implemented onto the nation both small and large. One of the former, I observed when I walked into the palace, was the throne room itself.

The infamous fire curtain that brought fear into the hearts of anyone who were brave enough to walk in that stretched from one end of the room to the other was gone. In fact, any trace of the old throne room had been vanquished and replaced with a more welcoming atmosphere, a symbolisation of the new Fire Nation. Now, standing in that very same room, I see the paintings and sculptures of dragons and iconography of the culture that I cannot recognise. It is a rich of culture and I can feel it.

Sitting on a soft cushion, legs crossed like Fire Lords before Sozin had done, was the one and only Fire Lord Izumi, her golden pupils staring right into my own eyes with spectacles creating a slight shine to them, her silver hair neatly tided with her crown fitted gently into it like it was destined to be there.

And she is thanking me.

“There is no need, your majesty.” I formally tell her. “As I said, I merely did what was right.”

I can hear the satisfaction in my own voice. It’s true. The scum who have been stealing from the poor will never see the sunlight again in their jail cells. Some say I might have been acting a bit too aggressive for an Air Nomad when I was interacting with them but who cares what they think. I gave them a chance to surrender, twice actually, and they refused to listen. It was really satisfying to hear their screams of terror and their shouts of frustration when they all woke up tied up together when I brought them to the palace.

“Of course.” She smoothly replies, nodding gently. “Still, your assistance is greatly appreciated. Azulon’s Flames would face the proper consequences for their crimes against us.”

Us.

I frown slightly at that word. Us. Like, they are all a unified force.

And yet, Tukim’s comments still linger in the back of my mind.

“I would be surprised if Fire Lord Izumi even knows we exist.”

Pushing them to the back of my mind for now, I give her a smile. “I am glad to hear it.” I tell her gratefully. Then, my smile fades slightly. “However, I did not come here just to bring you petty thieves, your majesty. You are far more important than that. I wish to discuss with you another matter if you have the time.

The Fire Lord raises her right eyebrow slightly in curiosity. “I do. Please, continue.”

Taking in a big swallow and clenching my fists, I proceed. “As I spent my time in the Roku’s Beard, I noticed the extreme levels of poverty and low standard of life present. When I asked the leader of the village, he told me he has made several requests in the past for help only to get no response. I merely desire to bring this to your attention in hopes of being dealt with.”

As I finish my story, I see the Fire Lord’s features soften in what appears to be sympathy. It seems like she wasn’t aware of the problem, after all.

“I see.” She finally replies after a few moments of silence. “I had no knowledge of this. I will make sure assistance will be provided to them. Thank you for making me aware of the issue, Master Y/N.”

Letting out a tense breath that I didn’t know I was holding, I bow. “Thank you, your majesty.”

The sound of doors from behind echo across the throne room and we are greeted by two visitors. One of them I know all too well, with their long pointy beard, and silver long hair and the burnt patch of skin around his left eye. The other is much younger, around my age, and she walks freely like all the troubles in the world are irrelevant. Her black hair swinging back and forth in her walks, her golden eyes relaxed, and pink lips in a similar fashioned smile. I also see a crown similar to the Fire Lord’s on her head. Another royal?

“This is unexpected.” Izumi speaks up with a trace of humour.

Now, standing before us, Lord Zuko gives his daughter a warm smile. “I’m sorry, Izumi. Your daughter insisted.”

“Why am I not surprised?” The Fire Lord replies. She then glances at me and gestures to the two visitors. “Master Y/N, I believe you are familiar with my father, Lord Zuko?”

I nod and I bow before him, giving him my complete respect. The last time I saw him was three years ago and we never really spoke. Now, though, I have that luxury. It’s amazing to meet someone as legendary and noble as the man in front of me.

“I am. It is an absolute honour to meet you, Lord Zuko.”

The elder bows in respect in return. “The honour is mine. It is a pleasure to meet you again, Master Y/N.”

“Aren’t you a little short to be an Air Nomad?”

Huh?

I look at Lord Zuko’s right and I see the young woman gazing at me up and down without any attempt to hiding it. Then, she looks right into my eyes. “I thought you would be taller.”

…Huh?

“Um.” I mutter but that’s all I can say. How can I respond to that?

“Azula.” Fire Lord Izumi chastises.

Wait, Azula?

“I was just messing with them, mum.” The daughter replies with a roll of her eyes. Then, surprisingly, she stretches out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, uh, Y/N, was it?”

Still confused slightly, I stretch out and take her hand. “Yes, that is correct. You’re General Iroh’s younger sister. Princess Azula, right?”

“Glad to know I’m only known as “General Iroh’s younger sister.”

“Oh, uh, no! That-That wasn’t what I mea-“

Azula chuckles at my embarrassed state. “Just messing with you.”’

Beside her, Lord Zuko chuckles at the scene before him. “Don’t embarrass our guest, Azula. I’m sure they have had enough.”

“They don’t mind, Grandpa Zuko.”

“If I may interrupt,” Fire Lord Izumi speaks up trying to get the topic back on hand, though a smile is present on her lips. “I believe Master Y/N has other business to attend such as getting home. They’ve had a long day. Give my thanks to Tenzin.”

Hearing the kind dismissal, I bow once more. “I will. Thank you for your time, Fire Lord Izumi.”

Giving Lord Zuko and Princess Azula nods of their own, I begin walking to the exit.

“Wait!”

The voice of the princess makes me stop and I turn.

She continues. “Give Tenzin my thanks too. It’s great that the Air Nation are helping the world while Avatar Korra is recovering.”

Her name makes time stop, my face sweating, and fists clenched. I can hear the lightning fast pounding of my heart.

Korra.

Forcing myself to focus on reality, I blink a few times rapidly and give her a weak “Your welcome.” Then, I tun and quickly leave.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Korra.

Marching out of the palace in quick succession, I see Spectre waiting right outside the doors clearly impatient and tired of waiting.

Good. Time to get out of here.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The soothing gentle voice of Lord Zuko brings me to a halt. As I turn, I see his sympathetic gaze aimed right at me.

“What?” I manage to get out.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He repeats softly. “What happened with Korra. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that, and it certainly won’t be the last. The intended effects fail each and every time they are spoken to me.

He’s wrong. They all are.

“I know you think I’m mistaken.” He continues as if he has read my mind. “But you are in a prison of your own making. It’s time for you to be free of the guilt and regret that have been plaguing your mind for these past three years. I know all too well how it feels, Y/N. If you don’t learn to forgive yourself, they will consume you.

They already have. A long, long, time ago.

“Thank you, Lord Zuko.” I tell him abruptly. “I must take my leave.”

I start walking to Spectre immediately afterwards, not allowing the royal to retort or continue the discussion further, and hop onto him.

“Let’s go, Spectre.” I gently tell him. “Yip yip.”

Without making sound Spectre leaps into the air and winds and clouds, leaving me all alone to my thoughts.

Korra.

Leaning backwards and lying on my back on the warm and fuzzy fur, I gaze up into the blue sky.

Three years. It’s been three long years since I’ve seen let alone spoken to my best friend.

If she even is my best friend anymore.

Sighing heavily, I close my eyes.

Three years.

How much longer do we have to wait?

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

And that's it!

I hope you all enjoyed it!

Feedback is appreciated! :D

See you all in the next chapter!

[cookie-kat777]

Atla nation, come get y'all's juice

[demaparbat-hp]

Arsonist's Lullaby

[goldenvulpine]

I want to clear up a mistake people make with Azula and Ursa.

Ursa didn’t play favorites.

Ursa didn’t think Azula was a monster.

Ursa simply, unequivocally, just didn’t enable Azula’s worst traits like Ozai did.

Ozai’s favorite child was Azula, but Ursa still loved her more.

Because enabling isn’t love.

What did Ozai’s enabling do? It made Azula into the type of person to never have any loyal friends. It made the type of person that Mai and Tai Lee would betray at the risk of their own lives.

Ursa pushed Azula to be with her friends. To be with Zuko. Ozai pushed Ursa away, and both kids suffered for it. Azula became a sadist, enjoying seeing her brother get burned—while Zuko was pushed away because he cared for his people.

Azula thought her mom hated her because her mom was the only one who cared enough to tell her no.

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

His ass does not pay attention enough to know all of their genders. Toph wears baggy clothes, he squinted at her and went “yeah that’s a boy. Or boy adjacent. Probably.” and moved on. Ally???

[calmingthoughtsinyourhead]

Poor Zuko

He just wanted to join the Gaang but now the blind girl is moving metal, the sweet watergirl is bending blood and the kid is talking to spirits

At least he can count on Sokka to be normal. Oh, where did you say that sword was from?

Yeah, that’s right, fucking outer space

[fanficsiwillneverwrite]

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Sorry, but having Zuko actually fight back against Ozai during their Agni Kai is just wrong. He was a child, only 13 at the time, afraid to fight his own father and was mutilated as punishment, because Ozai saw Zuko's begging and unwillingness to fight as unforgiveable weakness.

The Angi Kai isn't meant to be a showcase of Zuko's fighting potential (that's what the Zhao fight is for), but to show the utter cruelty of Ozai.

[madeleineengland]

This whole thread about Azula's fake confidence and terrifying vulnerability really opened my third eye