Maybe you can write it off?
So I'm in a funk (kinda) and it bugs the hell out of me. So I'm trying to write it off, quite literally. Continue to read this at your own risk.
Valued Traits
There were many things that one could say about her older brother, but Azula found, that despite all of his faults, her sibling did possess a handfull of traits that she did value so very much.
There was, for instance, Zuko's sense of honor. It was much more pronounced than her own or that of her father. It was also delightfully misguided. Instead of a shield in his hands, Zuko's honor was a blindfold wrapped firmly around his head. And blinded by it, he managed to make the wrong decisions, over and over again. It was rather comical, really.
Another one of her dear brother's valued traits was his faith in the bonds that made them family. How easy was it to promise him a place at their father's side (as if she'd share), to assure him that he had redeemed himself for his disgrace ten times over (as if he ever could). But blinded by honor, Zuko's trust into these bonds that made him nothing more but a pitiful appendage to the royal family, led him to side with her.
There were many other traits of Zuko that Azula deemed good qualities. But her favorite had to be his delightful dissmissability.
Because no one would miss the scared prince of the Fire Nation once he'd served his purpose and Azula got rid of him.
And the heart of the only one who would was laying in the wooden chest before her.
Soot
A fine sheen of black powder covers the furniture. Soot. His hard gaze sweeps over the chamber that once was his favored dwelling. There used to be silken veils hanging from the ceilings in all shades of red and gold, like flames. And beyond these veils, there was she and brighter as any flame, the picture of her flares to live in his mind.
He remembers, the days in which he was a prince, young and in dire need of discipline. When his brother was already betrothed to a timid noblewoman that wrote poetry under the stars and poured all of her love into the tea she served him. When he had been wild and untamed, when no woman could sate the craving burning in his loins, when no one, not even his older brother, could match his pace.
Until she came. She was the second born daughter of a general, a noblewoman. She was not for him; her sister was. An elegant flower, delicately in bloom. Her voice was as tender as silk and her hair as black as night. And he did not want her.
Instead, he desired the one that had come second, like him. With hair as black as soot, with eyes like glowing embers and a voice like the cracking of fire. The one that was wild and untamed, willful and strong. The passionate one, the one that would burn for him and that would make him burn in turn.
His gaze drops to the body on the floor.
He could not extuingish her flame. So he ripped out the flower instead.
Ozai respects her enough to spare that which she saved - once.
Valued Traits
There were many things that one could say about her older brother, but Azula found, that despite all of his faults, her sibling did possess a handfull of traits that she did value so very much.
There was, for instance, Zuko's sense of honor. It was much more pronounced than her own or that of her father. It was also delightfully misguided. Instead of a shield in his hands, Zuko's honor was a blindfold wrapped firmly around his head. And blinded by it, he managed to make the wrong decisions, over and over again. It was rather comical, really.
Another one of her dear brother's valued traits was his faith in the bonds that made them family. How easy was it to promise him a place at their father's side (as if she'd share), to assure him that he had redeemed himself for his disgrace ten times over (as if he ever could). But blinded by honor, Zuko's trust into these bonds that made him nothing more but a pitiful appendage to the royal family, led him to side with her.
There were many other traits of Zuko that Azula deemed good qualities. But her favorite had to be his delightful dissmissability.
Because no one would miss the scared prince of the Fire Nation once he'd served his purpose and Azula got rid of him.
And the heart of the only one who would was laying in the wooden chest before her.
Soot
A fine sheen of black powder covers the furniture. Soot. His hard gaze sweeps over the chamber that once was his favored dwelling. There used to be silken veils hanging from the ceilings in all shades of red and gold, like flames. And beyond these veils, there was she and brighter as any flame, the picture of her flares to live in his mind.
He remembers, the days in which he was a prince, young and in dire need of discipline. When his brother was already betrothed to a timid noblewoman that wrote poetry under the stars and poured all of her love into the tea she served him. When he had been wild and untamed, when no woman could sate the craving burning in his loins, when no one, not even his older brother, could match his pace.
Until she came. She was the second born daughter of a general, a noblewoman. She was not for him; her sister was. An elegant flower, delicately in bloom. Her voice was as tender as silk and her hair as black as night. And he did not want her.
Instead, he desired the one that had come second, like him. With hair as black as soot, with eyes like glowing embers and a voice like the cracking of fire. The one that was wild and untamed, willful and strong. The passionate one, the one that would burn for him and that would make him burn in turn.
His gaze drops to the body on the floor.
He could not extuingish her flame. So he ripped out the flower instead.
Ozai respects her enough to spare that which she saved - once.