had a really sad thought the other day about bender!reader whose bending is tied to their life force. so the more they bend, the more minutes, days and years they lose off their life. so they only use their bending for genuine emergencies in order to prolong their life for as long as possible.
when aang finds out about this, he's adamant in you not joining in on missions and if you absolutely have to be there, he's very protective and watchful of you. everyone in the gaang is and won't let you get involved in situations where you need to bend. it gets to a point where it becomes a point of contention for you and the gaang, especially between you and aang because even though you can't freely use your bending, you can still fight.
aang's deepest fear is losing you and he knows that's a very real possibility because you are the type to sacrifice yourself for the greater good and for those you love. and it pains him that he knows he's one of those people you'd give your life for. so he doesn't care how angry it makes you or how it causes a minor rift between you both—as long as you are alive, he'll be fine with being hated by you for the rest of his life.
but a day comes where you're needed for a mission and that mission goes south. the enemy is stronger than anticipated and one by one, your friends start to drop. until it's only aang and he's barely able to hold on, battered and bruised and bleeding but trying so hard to finish this because aang knows what will happen if he fails.
and like out of his dreams and nightmares, you appear with a set look of determination, ready to strike with your bending fired up and aang's deepest fear is coming true.
warnings: swearing, light mentions of bruises and torture (nothing graphic)
synopsis: After being rescued from prison, you discover that you fell in love with a lie.
a/n: I really wanted to write a part 2 for this but I don't know if I have what it takes to maintain the quality. I was really focused back then when I wrote this. Well, maybe I can try to give this a shot someday. I love love reading Lee fics.
"Hand me over the prison keys."
Zuko's command was directed at the semi‑conscious warden slumped in front of his uncle's cell. Warden Poon could barely keep his eyes open after the brutal confrontation he'd had with Iroh.
"But, Prince Zuko—"
"Just do it." Zuko didn't bother with a calm tone this time. He even threatened Poon with one of his fists wreathed in flames.
With no other choice, the warden handed over the key ring. He wanted no more conflict—mainly because he lacked the strength for it, and also because he knew his own firebending was inferior.
Keys in hand, Zuko set his plan in motion, freeing the remaining prisoners from the tower. Initially, he had only intended to free his uncle. But since he'd already failed to do that, he decided not to let the opportunity go to waste.
Most of the people locked up here weren't dangerous—they were prestigious. Big business owners. High‑ranking military officials. Former rulers. Even his uncle was only in this place and not the Boiling Rock because he was a member of the Royal Family. Fortunately, thanks to that foolish choice, Iroh had benefited from being held in a medium‑security prison. And now, he was gone.
When Zuko thought he had opened every cell, he came across one that looked different from the others. It wasn't surrounded by iron bars, but by large metal plates with a small window in the middle—apparently where meals were slid through. Not even his uncle had been placed in such a terrible spot. Could someone really be in there?
With some caution, the firebender turned the key in the lock and opened the door just a crack, peering inside.
"Hello?"
Unfortunately, Zuko identified someone lying at the back of the dim cell.
And that someone was you.
But since you hadn't responded to his call, he wasn't sure if you'd heard him. So the prince entered the tiny cubicle and shook you gently, trying to wake you.
"Hey. Wake up."
Everything felt confusing as you started to surface from unconsciousness. A familiar voice rang in your ears. A small amount of light illuminated the cell—but the brightness stung your eyes after weeks without it.
"Hey." He called you again. And then you finally remembered who that voice belonged to.
"Lee."
Without holding back, you wrapped your arms around the prince in a tight hug. He returned it a bit shyly—he hadn't expected such a display of affection, much less to find you in a place like this. But you didn't care about his shyness. Just having him in your arms was enough.
"I'm so happy you're okay, Lee."
You called him Lee again. After all, to you, he was Lee.
To you, he was the guy from the tea shop you used to visit after your earthbending training. The guy who had caught your interest so suddenly that, before you knew it, you would show up to see him even when you had no reason to.
To you, he was the guy who made you laugh even when he wasn't trying to be funny. He had such a strange, grumpy way of looking at things that you couldn't help but find it endearing.
To you, he was the guy who had taught you a bit of swordsmanship. When he wielded those twin blades, you found yourself even more drawn to him. He always seemed to dance with them. And he made it look so easy—when you knew it wasn't.
To you, he was the guy you had your first date with. You weren't even sure it was a date, but you always treated the memory with the amount of tenderness you thought it deserved.
You couldn't forget having dinner with him, how he yelled at one of the waiters—apparently embarrassed by some silly comment. You couldn't forget how you tried to hold his hand, and how he allowed it, walking beside you like that for a while. You couldn't forget the fountain you took him to, and how the candles around it seemed to light themselves by magic. It had been the perfect place, the perfect moment. You could almost feel that he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him. And then, suddenly, he left—pressing a coupon for the tea shop into your hand.
Shortly after that small step in your relationship, you graduated as a member of the Dai Li. You had wanted to protect your people. You thought that was the right way to do it. You had grown up in the Lower Ring and aspired to bring some justice to that forgotten part of the city. A pity you got it all wrong. A pity you chose the worst possible path to achieve it.
Before joining the other agents, you had one last cup of tea at your favorite spot. You were already wearing the typical Dai Li uniform. You expected the farewell to be hard. But to your surprise, that day, Lee didn't show up—only his uncle. You said goodbye to Mushi and asked him to pass along the message. It always stung that Lee wasn't there to hear it in person.
And now, you had met again. You had so much to say to your dear Lee.
"Why didn't you come to say goo—"
"Not now." Zuko interrupted you a little roughly, though it wasn't intentional. He was simply in a hurry. "I'm sorry. We need to go before they find us."
He carefully broke away from your embrace and pulled you up by the hand. But you were so weak from the long days in prison that you nearly fell backward. Fortunately, he reacted quickly, catching you firmly by the waist.
"What's wrong?" Zuko asked, worry creeping into his voice.
"Nothing. Let's go."
You broke free from him politely, trying to prove you were well enough to walk alone, to get out of there on your own. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. You had been tortured for so many days that you didn't even know how you could still speak. You didn't even know how you could still pronounce the word hope. Perhaps it was because you were from the Earth Kingdom. Your people were known for being enduring. Strong. And so were you. You had to go on, despite everything.
"Let me help you," Zuko offered again.
You refused.
But when you stepped out of that cell for the first time in weeks, your body lost its balance again. You were so thrilled to finally touch something other than cold metal walls that you didn't watch your step. Then warm hands caught you once more.
"Please. I just want to help." He practically begged this time. You could feel his hands tightening around you.
"Fine." You said it reluctantly, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer.
Zuko was relieved to finally have your consent. Carefully, he draped one of your arms over his neck, supporting your weight against his body. He could easily carry you on his back—but he knew you were proud. You would be offended if he treated you that way. He wanted to give you proper respect. After all, you were a fighter, just like him.
"Now," he said quietly, "can you tell me what happened?"
Zuko had wanted to ask that question ever since he found you in that cold, dark cell. It had never crossed his mind that you could be so close to him without his noticing. And if it weren't for his change of heart, you might have rotted there—and he would never have known.
He wanted to know why you were in that tower. You weren't a relatively important person.
He wanted to know why you seemed a thousand times more mistreated than the other prisoners he had released. You could barely walk without stumbling, and that didn't match the determined person he had met in Ba Sing Se.
He couldn't help but look at the injuries covering your body. All he could see were bruises, burns, and marks. You looked like a macabre work of art—and the artist behind it must have had a mind just as dark.
He wanted to ask so much. Zuko was immensely concerned about your condition. But at the same time, he was even more worried about how he would tell you that he wasn't who you thought he was.
"The Fire Nation happened." You finally answered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do I really need to tell you that, Lee?"
Zuko didn't dare say anything. Every time he heard that false name, everything seemed to get worse. So he decided to descend the stairs with you in silence. If he could ensure your safety by pretending to be Lee a while longer, then he would.
"Why are you wearing these disgusting clothes?" The red suit with gold details annoyed you—it looked too much like the clothes of that woman you despised so much.
Zuko stayed quiet. You couldn't help but feel irritated by his attitude, but you knew you were dependent on him right now. You could either adapt to his sudden silence or return to your miserable cell. Not that returning was an option—even if you wanted to, Zuko would never let you go back.
You finally made it out of the tower. Your eyes shone with excitement. How long had it been since you last breathed fresh air? You were so happy you could have jumped, screamed, even danced a little—if some guards hadn't appeared.
You quickly let go of Zuko and placed yourself in front of him.
In your mind, you were stronger than him. You were the one blessed with bending. You were the one trained to be an elite fighter, to serve Ba Sing Se—even if it had all been a lie. You couldn't change the fact that you had joined the Dai Li, that you had been manipulated into doing terrible things. But you could use your strength differently from now on. And so, you would protect Lee.
You took a rigid stance and levitated blocks of earth. You were ready to attack—until you heard one of the guards call out to the man behind you.
"Prince Zuko!"
That didn't make any sense. He wasn't this Zuko person.
A woman ran toward you with fire daggers blazing in her hands. It didn't make you back down. You knew you were superior. And even if you weren't, you would force yourself to be.
You tried to throw the rocks at her—
And were stopped. Your hand seized and pulled behind your back.
Only one person would be close enough to act that fast.
"Lee? What are you doing?" You tried to break free. In vain.
"I'm sorry." Zuko's whisper was barely audible.
Before you could answer or try to earthbend with your feet, he threw you over his shoulder—like a sack of potatoes.
"Stop."
You didn't understand why he was telling you to stop—until you realized the command wasn't for you. He was speaking to the guards.
"But, Prince Zuko, she's the Dai Li agent that Princess Azula—"
"I don't care. I'm ordering you to stop."
You couldn't understand anything anymore. Why did Lee seem to have authority over these guards? Why weren't you being attacked? Why did they keep calling him Prince Zuko?
"I'm afraid we can't, Your Highness," the guard with the fire daggers replied.
And then, a battle of flames erupted.
You were outnumbered. You knew Lee was good with swords—but that wouldn't be enough. You would have to fight. Only you could defend the two of you.
"Lee, please." You practically begged, tugging at his shirt with whatever strength you had left.
The doors in the palace opened and closed too many times that day, but Zuko barely noticed any of it anymore. Everything felt distant except the one room at the end of the hall that you were in. He stood just outside the doorway for a moment too long. Like if he stepped forward too quickly, he might break something.
You lay propped against the pillows, hair damp with sweat, expression somewhere between exhaustion and disbelief. One arm was curled protectively around a small bundle pressed against your chest.
Zuko’s gaze locked onto it immediately. “…is she—” he started.
His voice didn’t come out right, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Is she okay?”
Your mouth twitched faintly. “She’s loud.”
“That’s… good?”
“It’s very good.”
A healer carefully adjusted the blanket and then stepped back. That was the only invitation Zuko needed. He crossed the room slowly. When he reached the bedside, he stopped again.
You looked up at him. “You can come closer.”
“I am closer.”
“…Zuko.”
He moved the last half-step like he was walking onto something sacred.
And then he saw her. Really saw her. Tiny. Real. Warm. Alive. With dark hair matching his own.
His daughter.
For a moment, Zuko forgot how to breathe. “…oh,” he said softly.
You watched him carefully. “You can touch her you know”
That seemed to short-circuit something in him.
“I don’t—” he started, then stopped. “I might—”
“You won’t break her,” You said gently.
That did it and slowly, like he was approaching a stray animal he wasn’t sure would accept him, Zuko reached out.
His hands hesitated inches away, then he gently slid one arm under the bundle. You adjusted without hesitation, guiding him just slightly.
And suddenly she was in his arms and Zuko froze completely.
“…she’s small,” he whispered.
You let out a soft, tired laugh. “Yes.”
“I was not this small.”
“You don't know that.”
He ignored that.
The baby made a tiny sound and shifted slightly against him. Zuko stiffened instantly.
“Is that normal?” he asked quickly.
You nodded and smiled. “She’s just adjusting.”
“Oh.”
He looked down again. More carefully this time. Your daughter’s tiny hand moved and brushed against his thumb.
Zuko went still again, then almost whispered “…she has my nose.”
Your expression softened in a way exhaustion couldn’t hide.
“Yeah,” she said. “She does.”
A long pause settled between you both.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted.
You shifted slightly, watching him hold your daughter like he was afraid to blink.
“Good,” you said softly.
He finally looked at her.
“…good?”
“Neither do I.”
That got a faint, almost disbelieving breath from him.
“I’m Fire Lord,” he said quietly. “I’ve faced armies, led them.”
“You’ve never done this,” You interrupted gently.
Zuko looked back down at the baby. “…no,” he admitted.
His grip tightened slightly, then softened again.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared,” he said.
You reached out, placing her hand over his wrist where he held the baby.
“You’re not alone in it,” she said.
That made him look at her again. Really look. And something in his expression eased just a fraction.
The baby yawned, completely unimpressed by your conversation.
Zuko let out something between a laugh and a breath he’d been holding for years.
“…she’s already judging me,” he murmured.
You smiled faintly. “She gets that from you.”
“I do not—”
The baby grabbed his finger and Zuko stopped talking.
“…okay,” he said quietly. “I think I understand now.”
You tilted your head. “Understand what?”
Zuko didn’t look away from their daughter. “That I would do anything to make sure she never feels what I did.”
Your expression softened fully now. “…yeah,” you said. “I figured.”
The baby made another small sound, settling. Zuko adjusted his hold slightly, still careful and learning, but no longer afraid to. You leaned your head back against the pillows, watching them both.
“You’re doing fine,” she said.
Zuko didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue either. Instead, he just said: “…she’s perfect.”
You hummed softly. “Don’t tell her that too early. She’ll get and ego like the one you had when we met.”
“…I didn’t have an ego,” he said automatically.
You raised an eyebrow from the bed.
“I had a justified sense of confidence.”
That earned a tired, laugh from you.
The baby made a soft sound again, settling deeper into his arms as if she’d already decided she belonged there.
“I should probably hand her back soon,” he said, though he didn’t move.
You didn’t respond right away, just watched him, then murmured “You don’t have to rush.”
“…I’m not used to things that don’t require urgency,” he admitted.
“I know,” you said.
Outside the room, the world kept moving, but none of it reached the little bubble you were both in. Zuko lowered his head slightly until his forehead almost brushed the baby’s.
“…hi,” he whispered again, softer than before. “I’m your dad.”
You watched them both and exhaled slowly, exhaustion finally giving way to something gentler. “Yeah,” you murmured. “You are.”
summary; you can't sleep so wander the halls, stopping in front of your wedding portrait. Zuko joins you and you both spend some time talking about it
masterlist
The palace was silent in a way that never felt entirely natural. Not empty, though. It was never empty. Moonlight stretched pale across the hallway floors as you moved quietly through the corridors, one hand trailing absently against the cool stone wall. The silk of your robe feeling cool against your skin, the deep red looking almost black under the night light.
You should’ve been asleep, but sleep had been difficult lately. Not for any dramatic reason, there wasn’t any danger you were aware of, and there was no war. Just thoughts. Too many of them.
The gallery doors were already half-open when she reached them. You stepped inside.
The room smelled faintly of old parchment, polished wood, and candle smoke long extinguished. Portraits lined the walls—Fire Lords,Fire Ladies, a portrait or two of little Zuko , family histories painted along the walls..
And near the far end was the newest portrait. Your portrait. You stopped in front of it quietly. It still felt strange seeing herself there.
Not as a visitor, outsider and not even as a lady of Omashu. But beside Zuko, as his wife. The painting itself was formal, technically perfect. Zuko stood composed in ceremonial robes, shoulders straight, expression calmer than he usually managed in real life.
And you were draped in Fire Nation robes. I had been one of the first times you’d ever worn them. You’d managed to incorporate hints of green into it from your bracelets. It was compromise the painters, and the grumpy old chamberlain, probably hadn’t even noticed. You stared at it for a long moment.
Then from behind you you hear “…you still look uncomfortable.”
You jump, letting out a few curses, as you turn around. Zuko stepped from the doorway, hair loose, clearly awake far longer than he should’ve been. His expression was softened by exhaustion and the moonlight.
“You’re not asleep,” you say.
“Neither were you.”
“Fair.”
He moved beside you slowly, stopping close enough that the warmth from his body settled at your side. For a while, neither spoke, just looked at the painting.
“You hate this painting,” You murmer eventually.
“I hate all paintings of me.”
“That’s not denial.”
“It makes me look overly dignified.”
“You are overly dignified.”
Zuko glanced at her. “That’s insulting coming from you.”
That earned him the faintest smile from you. Silence settled again after that.
Then your gaze dropped slightly.
“…I still don’t fully recognize myself in it.”
Zuko’s expression shifted and he looked back at the portrait.
At the Fire Nation red around your shoulders. At the way the painter had captured your posture, steady, grounded, but not entirely relaxed.
“…because of the clothes?” he asked quietly.
“Partly. I used to think if I wore these long enough, they’d eventually stop feeling borrowed and start feeling like mine.”
“And they haven’t?” he asked.
You hesitated. “…sometimes they do. And sometimes I look at this and wonder if people see me anymore or just what I represent.”
The words sat between them quietly. Zuko didn’t rush to answer because he understood that feeling too well. Instead, he stepped a little closer beside her.
“You know what I see?” he asked.
You glanced at him carefully. “What?”
Zuko looked at the portrait again. Then at you.
“I see the person who challenged half my council before we were even engaged.”
A small breath of laughter escaped you.
“The person who still hides green fabric inside formal Fire Nation robes because you think nobody notices.”
You blinked slightly. “…you noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you.”
The answer came too easily. It made something warm ache in her chest.
Zuko’s voice lowered slightly after a moment. “You don’t disappear just because people see more than one thing when they look at you.”
His hand brushed lightly against yours.
“You are the most yourself person I’ve ever met.”
That made you laugh softly through the emotion gathering unexpectedly in her throat.
“That’s a terrible compliment.”
“It’s true.”
You looked back at the portrait. At the woman standing beside the Fire Lord, the red robes with traces of green. At the version of yourself, you still weren't entirely used to seeing.
Then you felt Zuko’s hand slip properly into yours.
“…you know,” you murmured after a while, “you'll never not look uncomfortable in portraits”
Zuko sighed quietly. “I knew this conversation would circle back to insulting me.”
You smiled faintly, leaning your head lightly against your shoulder.
“You married me anyway.”
Then you felt the quiet smile against your hair before he answered:
summary: the Gaang find out about your relationship with Sokka and Zuko after you get injured in battle
based off this request
zuko masterist sokka masterlist
The relationship had remained a secret for a few months. Which was honestly impressive.
Not because the three of you were particularly sneaky. But because nobody seemed to question why you spent so much time together, you and Zuko were firebenders which could’ve explained your closeness, and since you’d met him, you’d always been close with Sokka.
Sure, Zuko always seemed to know where you were and Sokka found excuses to be around you constantly. And sure, there had been a few close calls.
But somehow the secret survived, until one unfortunate battle.
The battle had gone wrong almost immediately. What was supposed to be a simple raid on a group of rebels, that you and your friends had taken over from Republic City’s policy for old times sake, turned into a full ambush.
There were more enemies than expected, more weapons and a lot more chaos. Fire lit up the battlefield and everyone was separated, distracted by their own fight.
You didn't see the attack coming. One moment you were fighting and the next something slammed into you. Pain shot through your side as you crashed hard against the rocky earth. For a second everything went silent.
Across the battlefield, Sokka heard your cry. His stomach dropped as he yelled your name..
Nearby, Zuko's head snapped around, then he saw you on the ground not moving.
Everything else ceased to matter and nothing existed except you.
"Move!"
Fire exploded from his hands and several attackers were sent flying backwards.
Sokka was already running and Zuko wasn't far behind.
Toph noticed immediately. Not because she could see it, but because she could feel it.
Two sets of footsteps that were fast, panicked and desperate.
Not the movements of friends going to help. Something stronger.
Her brows furrowed "Huh."
By the time everyone reached you, Sokka was already kneeling beside you.
His hands shook as he touched your face.
"Hey." No response.
His heart nearly stopped. Your name left his lips broken.
Zuko dropped beside him seconds later.
Nobody has seen the Fire Lord look so afraid before.
"Katara!" Zuko's shout echoed across the battlefield. "NOW."
Katara froze at the panic in his voice
The ride home was tense. Katara had assured everyone multiple times that you'd survive, that the injury was worse than it looked. But still, neither man left your side.
Zuko had your head on his lap and Sokka sat so close that their knees touched. Every time you shifted, both heads immediately turned toward you.
Every. Single. Time.
Aang noticed first and his eyes drifted between them.
Then back again. "...Guys?"
Neither responded.
The real problem began after Katara started treating your wounds.
You were conscious now. Tired and sore, but awake.
And that somehow made the situation worse because neither Sokka nor Zuko seemed capable of acting normal anymore.
"Does it hurt?"
You looked at Sokka. "A little."
His face immediately fell and bef you could reassure him Zuko piped up.
"Take another pain tonic."
You looked toward Zuko. "I'm okay."
"You winced."
"I got stabbed."
"You still winced."
Katara slowly lowered her hands, and across the room Aang blinked and Toph tilted her head.
Toph's grin spread slowly and everyone looked at her.
"What?" Aang asked.
Toph pointed vaguely toward the bed and the pair who stood close to you. Sokka froze and Zuko immediately looked suspicious. Which told the other two everything
"Oh." Was all that left Katara's mouth.
Toph laughed, actually laughed. The loud, wheezing kind.
Katara looked at Sokka, then Zuko, then you.
Aang gasped. "OH!"
You buried your face in your hands because apparently your near-3death experience wasn't enough suffering for one day.
The silence that followed was painful. Nobody spoke or even moved.
"How long?" Katara asked.
Sokka immediately groaned and shrugged. "A while."
"A WHILE?" Her eyes widened at her brothers words.
“A few months."
"A FEW MONTHS?"
Toph nearly fell off her chair laughing.
Later that night, after everyone had left, the three of you sat together in your room.
The secret was out and there was no taking it back now.
Sokka sighed dramatically. "We had a good run."
You nod in response.
"Honestly?" Zuko said, a small smile tugged at his mouth.
"I'm surprised we lasted that long."
You laughed, then immediately regretted it when your side hurt.
Both men leaned forward instantly.
"Careful."
"Don't move too much."
You stared, then started laughing again. Because somehow, even after getting caught, absolutely nothing had changed. Except now everyone knew exactly why they worried so much.
affirmations they will not kill me at work today. it is not in my job description to get killed. if they did kill me at work that would be weird and probably not worth it for them
Man Im sorry for snapping at you , uts just that I only got 8 hours of sleep last night and I only had like, two pandcakes with strawberrys and whipped cream and like three premium sausags for breakfast
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