“would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?”
Ken Page || Take Me To Church, Hozier || Medea, Euripides || Villiers de L’Isle-Adam || Marie Lu.
day iii of @aangtheestallion’s aang rarepair week. today’s prompt is wounds/wounded, and my couple of choice is azula x aang, or azulaang. i only recently began to explore the realm of azulaang, but the ship has a certain quality about it that makes it seem almost impractical in its perfection. in the multi-chapter story ive written for these two in my head, aang and azula haunt each other long before they’ve met. even before aang knows he’s the avatar, he sees a girl in his dreams. depending on the night, she greets him happily. but some nights all he sees and feels is white and hot burns running down his spine. she looks different in those nightmares —not open, dignified, or happy like she does in his dreams. instead her expression is shuttered, her posture ram-rod straight, her eyes void of emotion. aang knows not who she is til she actually strikes him, lightning wondrously murderous. he wakes up from his coma with a headache of her on his mind. her hauntings only get stronger after that. he often thinks he sees her in the spirit world. as for azula, hers is a similar path. seeing him in her meditations drive her insane. he’s in the mirror with her mother. he’s hanging from tree branches as she treks through the spirit world. when she opens her eyes to break meditation, he’s gone, but his laugh lingers. their wounds are aligned, interwoven, intersecting. his visible scar and the hidden ones tie into hers and vice versa. that’s what bothers azula, deep deep down, what keeps her from admitting who aang is to her and why she can’t come to terms with it —that she’s branded her soulmate but he’s still won in the end, for he’s ingrained himself deep into her veins. his wounds cannot heal if hers don’t. she wonders if aang finds as much secret, sacred reverence in this, as she does.
