#azulaangweek2025

GIVE ME THE SOFTNESS

IT IS TIME! Azulaang fans rejoice! It is time to decide on that all-hallowed week where we will create art, stories, poems, and everything in between for our favorite (rare)pair!

This is my first year hosting the event, and we're starting off with an absolute BANG! The amazing @demaparbat-hp has offered her incredible talents and created a backing image for the week! Before showing off the FANTASTIC artwork, let's get down to business. We simply must gauge interest in a specific week. So without further delay...

VOTE ON YOUR PREFERRED WEEK NOW! Voting will be open for the next two weeks and will close on Saturday, September 20th. To give participants enough time to prepare, the poll has no weeks earlier than the week beginning on Sunday, November 30.

And now, as promised, here's @demaparbat-hp's amazing work! Give her MAJOR kudos for EVERYTHING!

~~~~

Azula hated dreaming. In their purest form, dreams represented surrender to her. Surrendering to the reality of the dreamscape. It was ironic to describe a dreamland as reality, but they usually felt so real and distinct. Most important about dreams for Azula: they meant relinquishing control, and the dream of the Avatar escaping with her aid was beyond troubling. She couldn’t comprehend how any of it made sense.

Though if there was anything Azula did understand, it was control. Presiding with absolute dominion over her world kept her alive for years. It allowed her to not only survive but thrive in an environment that she would admit, albeit rarely in private, was a risk to all present. She was the least likely to face retribution, but even for her, one wrong move could lead to the end of her life as she knew it.

And that was an unacceptable outcome. She’d have to be better. Better than her father. More ruthless. More thorough. Execute her plans with more vigour than her family ever had. She’d put Zuko to shame.

Yet–

The more she considered the situation she found herself in aboard this airship, the more she felt herself wavering. 

Why? 

She’d done what Zuko couldn’t. She’d captured the Avatar and was en route to the capital. He wasn’t going to escape under her watch. No, it would be impossible. Why was she second-guessing this? It couldn’t be the dreams.

Could it?

Azula approached and dismissed the Dai Li agents guarding his cell before opening the door. He’d be in this room just as he had the last several times she checked. Those past few times, he’d simply faced away from her and ignored her presence. She didn’t care. Her agents didn’t question her methods. They knew she was ensuring that the Avatar was still present. Even they knew how slippery he had been to capture.

The door swung open, then promptly shut heavily behind her as she stepped into the pitch black room. It rumbled and growled with the noise of the airship’s engines that weren’t far from it. Lighting a flame in her palm, Azula peered around the barren chamber. She frowned at the empty cot and bucket on the floor next to it. Why wasn’t he in the cot? It didn’t matter. He was her prisoner. She wasn’t here to care.

The Avatar was slouched against the far wall, wrapped in a heavy blanket. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was hiding something from her. She planned better, though. His hands and feet were shackled in solid metal when he was brought aboard. The chains would be enough to anchor him in the room, but they attached him to the wall to serve as a reminder to him that escape was impossible. 

There’d be no ‘blue spirit’ escapade on her watch. The chains were too thick to slash through, and she personally vetted every single member of the crew aboard this ship.

Seeing him broken and useless should have brought a smile to Azula’s face. It was how he deserved to be treated for standing in Father’s way. 

“Not bowing to your princess?” She shook her head and stepped further into the room.

An impertinent frown overtook the fake smile, tearing her falsified angry expression into one of concern. She hazarded another step closer, rolled her eyes, then pressed her back to the wall and slid to the floor. Azula needed answers.

Interrogating him alone broke several rules and standards, but she couldn’t bring anyone else into this chamber with her for this; no, it needed to be just her. 

“Why?” Her mouth moved before she could stop it.

He shifted under the blanket, and his head faced her. An acknowledgement. She didn’t have to continue. She could stop speaking at any point, get up, and leave him to darkness.

“Why, Avatar, in your infinite wisdom, does something feel uncomfortably off about this arrangement?” 

She didn’t expect him to answer. Why would he? She hadn’t threatened him yet. Just had him locked up in this cell, really. So when a chain jangled against the silence of the room and a hand feebly reached her wrist, she felt lightning course up her arm. Was it an act? Looking at his shaking hand, she realized it couldn’t be. Why was he so weak?

She brightened the flame in her palm and closely examined his face. It was sunken, his eyes were bloodshot, and his other hand was at his throat. He attempted to speak, but all she could hear was the struggle of a gasp. He looked near ready to drop dead. 

That wasn’t part of her plan. Why was he in such bad shape? Did airbenders need exposure to the sun to live? The Sky? What was missing?

No. 

In a fraction of a second, she was up, at the door, and throwing it open. The two agents were down the hall, and before she could question her own actions, she had a flame held to the taller one’s neck. 

“Tell me why my prisoner is nearly dead.”

“He-”

“Have you been monitoring him?” 

“Yes, Princess.”

“Then explain yourself. You have five seconds.”

“He bends every element. We have deprived him of all but the air he breathes.”

As her mind processed the information, she turned and asked the other agent with venom in her voice, “Which of you interpreted my orders as kill the Avatar by withholding water?”

“But Princess–”

“You.” She pointed a dagger finger at the shorter man who had just spoken. “Fetch me a waterskin or your next assignment will be to report the time it takes to reach the ground.”

Properly reprimanded, the man rushed away, leaving Azula alone with the taller agent.

“If he dies, you’ll assist in his previous task.” With clenched teeth, she willed the fire to die. “Dismissed. I will personally handle the remainder of your shift.”

Why did she care?

She can’t have the Avatar die on her watch.

Azula snatched the brimming waterskin from the guard, who quickly retreated from her presence. Wordlessly, she wrenched the door open, assessed that the Avatar hadn’t moved, and made her way into the chamber. With unceremonious dismissal, she tossed the skin on the floor in front of him and crossed her arms. 

“Well?” She tapped her foot. “Drink it. It isn’t poisoned. And don’t try any funny business. I’ll–”

His pathetic hand lifted the waterskin into his lap, but no further. Why wasn’t he– No. She would not lower herself to such a level. She turned her back and left the chamber, shutting the door roughly and standing ‘guard’. 

Her duty was to her nation, and that didn’t include serving prisoners. Even if doing so…would…keep them alive…

“Fuck.” She gently let her head fall backward and impact the door before sliding it open and stepping inside once more. 

Deliberate, steady steps carried her to the Avatar, where she kneeled and grabbed the skin before unstoppering it. 

“You will say nothing.” 

The water mostly made it into his mouth, and he drank greedily. Precious few drops splashed to the floor, but at least he was drinking. At least she was in control of this situation now. After another few moments, she drew the waterskin away from him and stoppered it. 

“That is enough.” She stood and turned away.

That was degrading enough. She won’t spend another second in this cell with him. 

“Thank you.” His words were rough and nearly slurred together. 

She froze. He was thanking her? Of course he was. As he should. She went well below her station to–

“Why?” His voice was still weak, but there was a certainty to his tone when he asked.

She had originally come here with a purpose. She asked him a question, and now he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Why help me? Why come to me for advice?” He shook his head as if he were confounded by it all.

Azula narrowed her eyes and spun back on the kid. “That’s none of your business! And as for why I helped you? I simply need to keep you alive for the Fire Nation. Nothing more.”

He didn’t look impressed. She didn’t care. She didn’t–

“I control this situation, Avatar. Me. No one else. That is why you are alive and will continue to be for the foreseeable future.”

“But…you’re taking me to the Fire Nation.”

This line of questioning was getting old, but she’d humor one more attempt. “Yes?” She responded impertinently and turned back to face him.

He kept very still and wore a frown on his face, as though the conversation was as taxing to him as it was annoying to her. She relented and sank to the floor by the door, blocking the exit. So be it. If he was going to talk, she might as well ask her questions.

“Avatar.” She began, “Let me ask you. Why, when I woke with a dream an hour ago, was the fantasy world involving me freeing you? Could you imagine a more unlikely scenario?” 

The boy sat in silence for what felt like forever before looking her in the eye and answering, “You dreamed of helping me escape?”

“I did.” She responded with a grimace. “And it cannot become reality. I need to get you back to the Fire Nation, and if you escape, I’d have to hunt you down. That involves risks.”

“Risks like–”

“I do not wish to kill you, Avatar.” 

“Could fool me…”

“I do not wish to have blood on my hands, despite what you and your little friends may think.”

It was the truth. In as many ways as she wanted to be like Father, killing her opponents was not her goal. She wanted to embarrass them, prove that she was better, more powerful, and have individuals remember her for who she is. How could she do so if they were all dead? No, she demanded, no, deserved absolute dominion. So she planned to keep the Avatar alive.

As though he were reading her thoughts, he interrupted her musing, “Azula, you know what the Fire Lord is going to do to me when you turn me over to him, right?”

“Of course. He’ll lock you up and parade you around the Nation to–”

His half-lidded, unamused eyes were telling enough. 

“What will he do, Azula?” He asked tiredly.

It wasn’t her business what Father would do, but…she knew that what she was thinking wasn’t the case. 

“He will…” 

Father’s actions, if she turned the avatar over to him, were his own. Except, she’d allow it to happen. She would always know that it was she who delivered the avatar to his fate. It would be no better than incinerating him on the spot herself. With practiced grace, she rose from the floor, left the room, and left the Avatar to his devices. 

Father would kill him.

She’d find another way. Approach from another angle. She won’t be known for delivering someone to their death. Even she was aware of just what the Avatar meant to the rest of the world. Killing him would only ignite a resistance her nation had never seen. Azula was no fool. She wasn’t Zhao. 

No. Her victory would be had by other means. 

“Avatar?” She called through the bars. “You must be starving.”

She’d just have to tip the scales in her favor.

~~~~

If you'd like to read more of my work, check out my other stories over on AO3!

This is basically how i remember that one scene from The Avatar and the Fire Princess.

Rating: T Characters: Aang, Azula, Yue, Roku, Zuko, Sokka Pairings: Azulaang Notes: This is a series of side-stories to the main “The Avatar & The Fire Princess” AU saga. These stories will be set throughout the timeline of that AU, but are intended to be read between Volumes II and III.

@azulaangweek Week 2025 Prompt: Proposal

An Azulaang Prompt, December 24

So this is actually a scene from my Azula redemption arc that’s part of the Legacy of the Six Expansion Series (more like a spinoff) that’s been living rent free in my head for years. Yeah, some spoilers up ahead, but trust me, there’s a whole backstory that makes it hit different.

Everyone’s properly aged-up atp (we’re talking roughly 14 years post-war, they’re grown-grown). This scene focuses on the quiet conversations between Aang and Azula which shifts dramatically in the end 😉

It’s always harder to forgive yourself…

I had more “serious” thoughts about the Prompt, balance, but I went with my silly idea.