This is meant to be a gentle reminder that I occupy the role of your girlfriend. I can admit to be… fired up. Babbly. Moronic. Reckless. Extravagant. Needy. Annoying. Probably an attention whore too as I often get reproached… and I should stop listing my flaws because that’s totally not the point. I hate it when I can’t seem to fucking be mad at people. Like I tell myself don’t you want to yell? And no, it’s like my voice doesn’t want to. And my hands are limp. And I can’t. The anger just dies down on me. I guess you’ve never felt that or anything.
Like when I look at what you’ve said or done to me sometimes I just want to blow it up one inch from your face and at least have you be sorry or ashamed for your fucking black-hole of a lack of consideration.
Sorry that wasn’t gentle.
Anyway. I just can’t. It’s like, I don’t feel like you deserve it you know, and sometimes I feel like I deserve it instead so I forgive it and I forget it and it doesn’t matter anymore and we can go forward. It’s what matters to you, going forward, right? Better. Stronger. Clever-er. And I’m aware that relationships aren’t like as important as my future or your future but it’s just that I don’t really feel significant. I know I shouldn’t compare but couples around me are different I just… sometimes I envy them.
It’s just things like I don’t feel worthy when I can’t remember that you’re awesome and perfect and drop dead gorgeous killing-the-entire-planet-population-with-a-simple-stare kind of girl that accepts the low title of “Ty Lee’s girlfriend.” I don’t get too overwhelmed with that now and I realize that you’re just a 21 year old girl with issues that doesn’t know how to be a girlfriend.
Yes, I hate to break it out to you but you’re probably the worst girlfriend ever (does that make me the best to compensate? I’m good, damn.) And I think you can work on getting better at that too. I mean you’re already flawless at anything else what’s putting a few hours into treating Tyty better? It’s easy I swear. Like I when I get home after class you can ask me questions about my day. It doesn’t have to be domestic. Unless you’re down for that. Or you can just kiss me on the cheek, on the forehead, anywhere really. Just make me feel welcome in my own home, yeah? That can’t be difficult. A moron like me does it.
And when we’re in public it’s okay if boys or girls look at me, I’m sure you look at other people and you find them attractive. It’s not like they have see-through eyes or that they’ll kidnap me and we’ll fuck in a dark alley right then. Or ever. It’s just looking. I can’t be yours as much as being invisible.
While we’re at that I’d like you to understand that us not having sex doesn’t push me away or whatever. I’m not a fuckboy. I’m not here just for the lack of flesh between your legs. I’m here for the awkward fucktard that takes herself wayyyyy too seriously. Though I understand that you get worried but glares and insults just won’t do. It makes me feel uncomfortable and sorry for people. That also applies to my friends. If you don’t like them I won’t force you to come along but I’m sure you’re capable of being respectful for five minutes. People would approve of you and me then. Woah. Can you imagine that?
Also your obsession with neatness drives me crazy. I will tidy my stuff but I don’t think I need to filter all my stuff with codes and arrangements. And it happens that I forget to put back the water pitcher in the fridge or that I lose a sock somewhere around the couch. Not everything can be spotless. I’m not a spotless person. You’re not a spotless person. The apartment should not be spotless. Spotless is shit. We’re not Beyoncé.
Bed-wise you’re kind of okay. I get to sleep on my favorite side and you pet my hair a lot which is nice. Though being woken up very brutally can be traumatizing and I promise that I don’t mean to mumble in my sleep or wriggle too much (maybe if you held me tighter that would help, hey!)
I don’t like when you get very upset for little things. I know that runs in your family, I know it’s… innate I guess. But it’s… scary sometimes. Well no. I didn’t mean scary. More like stunning.
I never ever mean to make you so upset…
Part of why you’ll never see this. I’m not sure how you would take that. If you would… I don’t know. I think you’d get angry. Then I don’t know. I’m Ty Lee and I’m clueless!
As you can see I am disgusting at that kind of stuff and there’s much more I’d like to say but I find it pointless because I’m just getting really really sad? I wish it wasn’t this hard sometimes being with you. Because I know you’re not a bad person.
I know. This is what has always been our relationship. I don’t know for you though. I don’t know why you want to be with me. I don’t know what you get from it. It seems like such a chore sometimes. Other times though you look like you’re not against taking care of me.
I don’t know what I want honestly. I’d just like for me to feel welcome with you. I want me to feel good when I’m with you. More than just some times. Less than all the time.
Ty Lee insisted by wriggling the limp rag two inches from Azula’s guarded face ( hopefully that would also wriggle some sense into her. )
She didn’t get why it was so hard for Azula to stop babying her ego, as if she couldn’t laugh at herself or take in a little critique ( she could do both after all, she’d seen her do it ). And yes, perhaps all that wriggling wasn’t persuasive enough to Ippon* the resolve she wore like skin, but she wriggled nonetheless: sometimes her feeble caresses could increase Azu’s lenience —— again, just like skin. That was without considering that she too, paper-cut her fingertips and bore quite a few scars from god knows what. The problem was… the regeneration. And all she desired for this bright holiday was for her girlfriend to add a little duvet to it. She would beg if she needed to, though for now she would spare herself the humiliation and use her mouth.
“ You know if you wear it you’ll have a front pocket. “
She spread the costume against her human-sized grumpy bunny and smoothed the fabric where the front pocket should be. Concentrating on the eyes that made her think of warm Pils beer, she let that easy grin ponder as her fingers pinched her waist.
“ And as your little-bunny-for-a-day I’ll stay there and you’ll get to keep me and stuff! ——- Whatd’youthink? “
Ty Lee squinted by her brief unresponsiveness.
“ You do know it’s kangaroos,” she said, “ that have pockets.”
“ Not bunnies. ”
Right. Kangaroos.
She blinked twice, stunned by Azula’s annoying sense of unimportant detail. Though she knew she was only doing it to irk her and counter the real answer she so craved. Well, as most know, Ty Lee was flexible; and as she could switch from her hands to her feet to walk, she would swap from one argument to another.
“ Oh and I’ll paint your face! Cute, yeah! You like it when I paint your back, right? “
Azula shrugged, the costume flapping over lifelessly as her fingers softly wrapped around the acrobat’s wrists and balled the bunny cloth into her palms, pressing the whole into her belly.
“ Does’t get me all wound up. “ She replied, looking down as if to say ‘unlike you.’
Her kneecaps slumped onto the ground, forehead leaning onto Azula’s waistband, lanky arms clumsy wrapping around the behind of her thighs. “ Pleaseeeeeeeeee,“ she whined under her breath, nose brushing onto the fabric of her pants.
Azula’s hand fell to the crown of her head, its warmth like the sunlight.
“Shut up now, you’re not getting me to wear it. Though you can still be my little bunny and I’ll paint your face, so just stop being annoying and get up, alright? “
It begun with kisses, a barrage of them stringed between the fantasy of her unconsciousness and unwanted awakening. Softly though was she pulled; hands discerning the contours of her lover before her eyes could flick open. She always reached for her first. Maybe griping an anchor, as if to brace herself before affronting the cruel return on Earth.
The warmth caused by the tangle of their limbs only increased the intolerable heat trapped under covers. And she sighed, for all mornings should resemble this scenario. Within her marvelous haze, she lazily rolled onto Azula, her hands couldn’t help but pet at the fur that was her sleepy head. Exchanging kisses of all sorts, light nose kisses, lingering cheek kisses, goofy chin kisses, sensitive eyelids kisses, tepid temple kisses, smooth forehead kisses and loving mouth-to-mouth kisses. Her girlfriend offered them all to her the minute she awoke.
“Happy morning,“ she said, brows knitting at her blunder.
“Good birthday,” she teased as an answer.
Azula eventually enticed her out of bed with another taste of her lips; she kept pretending to forget their fine flavor ( though she couldn’t ———- even if she tried ). Followed the usual morning routine, hasted dressing and breakfasting, too much time used for prettying up her florid face. Could she be blamed for wanting to look desirable on this perfect day?
Outside they discovered it was rather grey, cloudy and obscured by the earliness of the hour. Ty Lee’s eyes wetter and more pleading by the drastic change of light. Those unreliable, wide eyes that made her seem so genuine and compassionate now seemed concerned that the sun had not showed itself for her. At least Azula’s hand, like a cat prowling from under their hiding place, slipped from her sleeve and caught her mittened fingers. The line of her braid that had kept curving to her energetic step somehow became more erratic.
The car’s purring to Azula’s careful driving was indistinguishable beneath the sound of her own music ( a rare occurrence for they had extremely different taste ). One more thing to make her feel unique. Also, she was surprised that her gorgeous driver still sort of smiled despite all this enduring to One Direction’s music. Near the chorus, two of her fingers walked onto Azula’s erect arm, her lips following the words: “So tell me girl if we every time we touch, you get this kind of rush? Just say yeah.“ Needless to say she was more a distraction than an aid to the driver.
A few moments later Azula urged her to tone it down, which she nicely complied to after unfastening her ‘car leash’. However, instead of leaving for the day already, she remained sitting, staring gently ahead to the art complex of the school ( people kept walking over the chalk of a floor mural in Van Gogh’s style; which was a shame really ). It took a few moments for Azula to ask her what she was waiting for. Her lips curled up unwillingly, her cheeks blushing pink, her head lowering. “Good day kiss?“ She muttered low enough not to be heard. The driver repeated that muttering wasn’t a real mean of communication and that she shouldn’t expect her to understand the half bitten words. Ty Lee straightened her neck, licking her lips and realizing that she was fixated on Azula’s lips when she uttered a knowing “ oh.”
She heard the slipping noise of the other car leash, a click, and two hands cupped her head, bringing her closer and Azula’s warm mouth pressed against hers so softly it hurt.
“Go now,“ instructed the driver with a voice that was only slightly annoyed. Ty Lee grabbed her back pack and hurried towards the entrance, waving to Suki and Katara.
Grey eyes remained focused on the princess mere meters way, quickly getting into a defensive posture. He hated fighting &&taking away a persons life, and he honestly hoped it wouldn’t lead to such a thing, but with Azula, it was really up to her. Though he knew words would only fuel her… Whatever it is that fuels her, but it was worth a shot.
Surprises piled over surprises today, hence she climbed this imperfect throne, only to feel surreal, unattainable and terribly alone at the summum. The first godsend resting briefly over her heart; scintillating and golden. Heavy of reward and pride, ergo disabling her neck to wear it any longer than to capture a few films. She grinned mischievously to the camera; and on another continent, a girl half-grinned back. Ty Lee Wakahisa; highest achiever of gymnastic in the world indeed in her category.
The unwarranted composure which had remained during the ceremony and other sidekicks, immediately shattered as she found herself alone. Hands like mini-earthquakes, she soon plopped them through her pocket, fishing her phone. Despite being more than satisfying… the cheering was not modulated in her girlfriend’s voice, and with the month they had spent severed from one another’s touch, she couldn’t wait to at least hear her voice.
With a ridiculous tremor and bad signal, they exchanged a few happy words. Azula’s tone eerily reminding her that all of this was her way to tell her she was proud. And Ty Lee would whisper that she missed her face, her lips, her hands, her terrible sense of humor and her bed. She would ask how the cat was going and Azula would say “well, I’m feeding it?” To which she would rant on how loving the animal was important too, and Azula would say “I didn’t sign up for this.” She would relent, knowing she wouldn’t get her way with her stubborn, rich girl of a girlfriend. She demanded to talk on the phone with the small beast. “No,” was not the answer she had hoped for… however.
After a stunned pause, she would hear, “guess why?” With a confused hum, she would respond, “I dunno?“ This little game of hers had brought her to the edge of the bed, fingers digging in the mattress. Azula was not spontaneous, she was not excited. Though, she could decipher it in her voice. “I’m about to catch my flight.”
She hung up because she knew Ty Lee had heard the smile in her tone.
And as promised, a few hours later, she would softly knock at the white door of the white room. Amidst luxurious bed-sheets her heart drummed in triplets and quadruplets, feet springing up despite the early morning tiredness, and pulling the door wide open.
She couldn’t believe Azula actually stood there, with her messy plane-hair and groggy smirk, with her hands wrapping around her sides protectively and her pointy nose rubbing against her cheek. Me neither, she knew the other was thinking, with the golden fleck scintillating across her face, hands ravenously climbing to lean shoulders. Azula would gently lift her up and move her away from the entrance, shutting the door with one of her shoe.
The violet night seeped through the wide open windows. A thin line of peachy clouds slowly rising in the horizon. They reached for each other’s mouth, clutching needy lips in a firm kiss. It took only that and a notice of he severely affected balance for Azula to conclude she had been drinking. Heavily, at that. Her usually curious eyes were lidded, her tone languid rather than striking, and her hands slightly bolder, stroking her lower back.
It was hard to trust a girl so dangerously close to the forbidden fruit, intoxicated and even without, could barely control her envies. But Ty Lee didn’t go further and obliged her princess to lay down, for them to exchange tired glances and sloppy kisses, sweetly holding hands until the gymnast leaned unconsciously on her chest. Fingers gripping at her clothing as if to prevent her from leaving whilst she rested.
She liked that Azula had been spontaneous for her. It proved that some things tickled her sensibility. Was it not small animals or the routine, she’d fly across the ocean as she called her name a little louder.
Azula signaled dryly, and always alert to her commands, her feet took a few rapid strides forward, heavy hot breathing misting her goggles. Before she knew it, gloved fingers coiled around her wrist and yanked her down, knees colliding with cement. She hadn’t meant for the embarrassing SQUEAK to come out, and without further thinking, pushed down her gun, massaging her aching articulations. ❝ Hey, we’re supposed to be on the same team! Ow—- ow, ow, it hurts! ❞ She could faintly see a frown through their extensive wear.
❝ Not so loud, it’ll reveal our position. And you should never leave your gun unattended, this is screaming failure. ❞ So much for a little compassion, even just her palm on the round, pained thing would have been satisfying —— instead Azula had entered war mode and shoved the gun against her chest until she took hold of it. ❝ I have a plan. ❞ She declared distractedly, elevating herself and her gaze raking the surroundings to make it safe to hold their conversation.
Ty Lee wondered how she could even see through the cloud of her own breath against the safety mask, she must have had a mighty vision, and she didn’t have the heart to doubt it. Or maybe it was that Azula wasn’t EVEN out of breath from all the scampering, sneak attacks and their last flee, retreating to the end of the arena. So much for trying new activities as her coach had recommended, so much for choosing… paint ball.
Her girlfriend turned agilely, both hands griping at her shoulders, ❝ Alright, so listen closely. ❞ She breathed through the mask, trying to reduce the echo but nonetheless be heard. ❝ They are in a weak state right now, they’ve all grouped in the middle of the terrain like sheeps. This means we’ll be able to annihilate them even if we’re just two, and them four. ❞ Azula plotted with strange determination, knowing well it was only Zuko and three of his buddies being the adversary. ❝ First you will march along the wall at 21′O clock, while I do the same at 3. After which you’ll get at the barrels and make some noise to attract th—— ❞
❝ So you’re using me as bait now? I don’t want to be bruised all over, I’m not doing this. ❞ One of her teammate’s hand tugged a little harder, forcing her to listen. ❝ No —— you haven’t heard it all. Yes, you’re going to be used as bait, but I’ll have followed them from behind before they could have the chance to get you, and then I’ll empty my charger on their heads. They’ll submit to our strategy right on, and plead us to stop, and finally agree for us to be the ultimate victors. ❞ The flickering gleam of danger in those golden ( predatory ) irises told Ty Lee that she shouldn’t agree with such a drastic plan. But deft hands had already pushed her on her feet, an encouraging pat on her butt cheek making her forget about the whole extermination thing.
She followed the path indicated by squad leader Azula and bent in all positions not to be spotted before her moment of glory could arise. There was something about wearing dull army patterns and holding a potentially harmful weapon that made blood sprout harder, that made all of her muscles tightly wrap around each other as if to be sheltered from the possible guerrilla-style attacks. Sweat trickled down her temples and the mask got more and more suffocating as she reached the desired position.
Ty Lee reached the barrels with a soft sigh, bending down behind the crusty red paint of them, stomach bulging from the position as her breathing calmed itself slowly. She gave Azula two more minutes, in case something had came up, even though she was positive the girl had gone her way with enough wilderness to get there despite any hurdles.
Azula signaled dryly, and always alert to her commands, her feet took a few rapid strides forward, heavy hot breathing misting her goggles. Before she knew it, gloved fingers coiled around her wrist and yanked her down, knees colliding with cement. She hadn’t meant for the embarrassing SQUEAK to come out, and without further thinking, pushed down her gun, massaging her aching articulations. ❝ Hey, we’re supposed to be on the same team! Ow—- ow, ow, it hurts! ❞ She could faintly see a frown through their extensive wear.
❝ Not so loud, it’ll reveal our position. And you should never leave your gun unattended, this is screaming failure. ❞ So much for a little compassion, even just her palm on the round, pained thing would have been satisfying —— instead Azula had entered war mode and shoved the gun against her chest until she took hold of it. ❝ I have a plan. ❞ She declared distractedly, elevating herself and her gaze raking the surroundings to make it safe to hold their conversation.
Ty Lee wondered how she could even see through the cloud of her own breath against the safety mask, she must have had a mighty vision, and she didn’t have the heart to doubt it. Or maybe it was that Azula wasn’t EVEN out of breath from all the scampering, sneak attacks and their last flee, retreating to the end of the arena. So much for trying new activities as her coach had recommended, so much for choosing… paint ball.
Her girlfriend turned agilely, both hands griping at her shoulders, ❝ Alright, so listen closely. ❞ She breathed through the mask, trying to reduce the echo but nonetheless be heard. ❝ They are in a weak state right now, they’ve all grouped in the middle of the terrain like sheeps. This means we’ll be able to annihilate them even if we’re just two, and them four. ❞ Azula plotted with strange determination, knowing well it was only Zuko and three of his buddies being the adversary. ❝ First you will march along the wall at 21′O clock, while I do the same at 3. After which you’ll get at the barrels and make some noise to attract th—— ❞
❝ So you’re using me as bait now? I don’t want to be bruised all over, I’m not doing this. ❞ One of her teammate’s hand tugged a little harder, forcing her to listen. ❝ No —— you haven’t heard it all. Yes, you’re going to be used as bait, but I’ll have followed them from behind before they could have the chance to get you, and then I’ll empty my charger on their heads. They’ll submit to our strategy right on, and plead us to stop, and finally agree for us to be the ultimate victors. ❞ The flickering gleam of danger in those golden ( predatory ) irises told Ty Lee that she shouldn’t agree with such a drastic plan. But deft hands had already pushed her on her feet, an encouraging pat on her butt cheek making her forget about the whole extermination thing.
She followed the path indicated by squad leader Azula and bent in all positions not to be spotted before her moment of glory could arise. There was something about wearing dull army patterns and holding a potentially harmful weapon that made blood sprout harder, that made all of her muscles tightly wrap around each other as if to be sheltered from the possible guerrilla-style attacks. Sweat trickled down her temples and the mask got more and more suffocating as she reached the desired position.
Ty Lee reached the barrels with a soft sigh, bending down behind the crusty red paint of them, stomach bulging from the position as her breathing calmed itself slowly. She gave Azula two more minutes, in case something had came up, even though she was positive the girl had gone her way with enough wilderness to get there despite any hurdles.
Azula signaled dryly, and always alert to her commands, her feet took a few rapid strides forward, heavy hot breathing misting her goggles. Before she knew it, gloved fingers coiled around her wrist and yanked her down, knees colliding with cement. She hadn’t meant for the embarrassing SQUEAK to come out, and without further thinking, pushed down her gun, massaging her aching articulations. ❝ Hey, we’re supposed to be on the same team! Ow—- ow, ow, it hurts! ❞ She could faintly see a frown through their extensive wear.
❝ Not so loud, it’ll reveal our position. And you should never leave your gun unattended, this is screaming failure. ❞ So much for a little compassion, even just her palm on the round, pained thing would have been satisfying —— instead Azula had entered war mode and shoved the gun against her chest until she took hold of it. ❝ I have a plan. ❞ She declared distractedly, elevating herself and her gaze raking the surroundings to make it safe to hold their conversation.
Ty Lee wondered how she could even see through the cloud of her own breath against the safety mask, she must have had a mighty vision, and she didn’t have the heart to doubt it. Or maybe it was that Azula wasn’t EVEN out of breath from all the scampering, sneak attacks and their last flee, retreating to the end of the arena. So much for trying new activities as her coach had recommended, so much for choosing… paint ball.
Her girlfriend turned agilely, both hands griping at her shoulders, ❝ Alright, so listen closely. ❞ She breathed through the mask, trying to reduce the echo but nonetheless be heard. ❝ They are in a weak state right now, they’ve all grouped in the middle of the terrain like sheeps. This means we’ll be able to annihilate them even if we’re just two, and them four. ❞ Azula plotted with strange determination, knowing well it was only Zuko and three of his buddies being the adversary. ❝ First you will march along the wall at 21′O clock, while I do the same at 3. After which you’ll get at the barrels and make some noise to attract th—— ❞
❝ So you’re using me as bait now? I don’t want to be bruised all over, I’m not doing this. ❞ One of her teammate’s hand tugged a little harder, forcing her to listen. ❝ No —— you haven’t heard it all. Yes, you’re going to be used as bait, but I’ll have followed them from behind before they could have the chance to get you, and then I’ll empty my charger on their heads. They’ll submit to our strategy right on, and plead us to stop, and finally agree for us to be the ultimate victors. ❞ The flickering gleam of danger in those golden ( predatory ) irises told Ty Lee that she shouldn’t agree with such a drastic plan. But deft hands had already pushed her on her feet, an encouraging pat on her butt cheek making her forget about the whole extermination thing.
She followed the path indicated by squad leader Azula and bent in all positions not to be spotted before her moment of glory could arise. There was something about wearing dull army patterns and holding a potentially harmful weapon that made blood sprout harder, that made all of her muscles tightly wrap around each other as if to be sheltered from the possible guerrilla-style attacks. Sweat trickled down her temples and the mask got more and more suffocating as she reached the desired position.
Ty Lee reached the barrels with a soft sigh, bending down behind the crusty red paint of them, stomach bulging from the position as her breathing calmed itself slowly. She gave Azula two more minutes, in case something had came up, even though she was positive the girl had gone her way with enough wilderness to get there despite any hurdles.
Then it began, the clamor of metal banging against each other as she pretended falling over. For certainty, she got on her knees and banged them more, clapping her hands too, and finally retrieving her pistol. Air accumulated in her lungs, an eerie feeling of invincibility coursing through her powerfully, and away she sprinted. She could heard rushed steps and brushing behind her, though there still was no sign of Azula overpowering their lame position. Of Azula laughing maliciously at their defeat.
Running turned to jogging, jogging to walking, and walking to a halt; she was safe here, and away from the hustle. Though a weird feeling got a hold of her, circled her of its greedy and perverted hands. Was she okay?
Only then two dark heads surged from around her, precise gunshots fired loudly in the middle of each of their faces. Zuko, though, threw his entire form behind her solid stance, wrapping one of her arms behind her neck, gun pointed towards Azula. After she almost broke her thumb trying to wriggle out of his hold, she abandoned the flexible way of getting out of this.
❝ Give up. Both of you, ❞ he exhaled proudly. He didn’t seem to notice how Azula’s left hand flipped subtly —— but she did. The fingers on her restrained arm gripping firmly his wrist, hips shoving themselves over his, then dropping at his tibia’s, bending over and flipping him over her head as multiple splatters resounded from both his and Azula’s gun, none of them hitting her.
❝You ——- give up, or I keep firing. ❞ Yelled the captain squad over the constant drumming of her pistol. Colors adorning his borrowed uniform in thick and thicker blasts. It took a few seconds for him to abandon his quest for victory in a desperate groan, Ty Lee only pointing the canon of her weapon to the two acquaintances —— hands raising almost immediately. She marveled at their submission, though it was a fleeting emotion, nothing quite as satisfying as Azula seemingly felt.
❝ Eep! ❞ Ty Lee shouted, letting the gun drop to the earth. They won! Azula marched towards them slowly, retiring her mask. Her visage was somewhat flushed, hair misplaced and a devious smirk gave such personality to her lips. If it hadn’t been from Azula’s audacity, she would have felt the bruise on her neck for weeks.
Both from the roughness of the situation and the denouement, her elation was extraordinary, and to thanks the captain, she sprung towards her, jumping and holding herself like some sort of animal with her legs wrapped around her waist, and her masked face softly pressing against her glistening forehead. ❝ You’re perfect. ❞
A sea of browns and peaches rocked back and forth overhead, lanky rods with hands for ends. They both protected and smothered her, angled faintly towards the stage, radiating a silvery light that seemed to be a magnet for held up arms. All near forms around her were pointless blurs, and so was her clouded mind as lithe body conversed with this acute equilibrium of hers and her restless feet, her agitated shoulders, her languid hips, combined into an inebriated dance. Her mind swam comfortably, waltzed by lethargic waves that soon filled her chest and soared her throat, and before it could spill, she stumbled out of the crowd.
Her fleeting spirits led her towards her primary source of comfort, or perhaps it was only that she had spent most of prom night laughing with people other than her. Her very magnificent, stiff and deadpanned date. Not only had she politely proposed a dance, she had begged plenty and eventually tugged on a lean yet surprisingly vigorous forearm for it, five crimson ovals appearing slowly as she abandoned the idea of Azula’s hands awkwardly and lightly finding her hips. That and to see her irresistible lips grinning as she got the hang of it —— truly she could achieve anything if only she tried. But to her, dances were humiliating and god knew dignity mattered much more than your girlfriend’s simplest desires.
Not that bitterness had swallowed her glee at that, in fact she was well used to Azula being openly full of herself and practically bordering ego-centrism. As much as she admired and adored her confidence, it could be terribly abundant. Prodigies weren’t meant to be aware of their capacities. Nonetheless, Ty Lee loved that assurance, it was reassuring and fascinating, this unwavering aplomb.
❝ —- ‘Zula, ❞ she uttered with drunken tenderness, her pace slowing and features gleaming from more than the sweat as —- indolently —- she rolled her head in the wished direction ( hers! ). ❝ Have a little time for me? ❞ she demanded with a small voice, throwing one arm around as to regain balance from the uneven of her vision and clumsy foot. Of course she did, but courtesy was flattering, not obsolete, even between lovers.
Earnestly, she caressed Azula’s exposed shoulder, and the divine slope that continued to her fingers —— that, like a gift, she wrapped of her own. Despite the coziness found in her sweaty palm, Ty Lee soon released her hold —— something about not being alone as she touched her seemed to be incredibly unsettling. Thus, she also had to deny her lips the satisfaction that hovered so close, so enthralling with a deep layer of red like velvet-cake-lipstick. For a moment, it was as if her eyes could kiss.
❝ As long as it’s not for dancing, ❞ vindictively wandered Azula’s voice, only then she lifted her distracted gaze, amber eyes already had been hunting her. ❝ Don’t worry, I gave up on that. ❞ For tonight, she said.❝ Want another drink? ❞
Flawlessly manicured nails elevated a small cup that she recognized as the one she had been draining languorously, the rich violet quivering against glass made her mouth water. She didn’t even like wine, but something about Azula holding the elixir made it seem so appealing, made her feel very childish and envious for her elegant tastes. Her gaze necessarily plopped to the bottle she held to her stomach, spritzing freshly. Perhaps she hadn’t been thinking when she asked her, but maybe it was easier to get her gratefulness by being of help, if only spending her money on alcohol. At times, getting positive vibes from her was as hard as getting Mai to care.
She shrugged grotesquely, her movements ample and clumsy, her coordination fucked. The two first steps she took towards the bar were enough to confuse her and before she could make a third, a gentle arm wrapped around her bicep and halted her.
❝ Look, it’s obvious you’re butt-hurt because I didn’t want to talk to your bland friends or dance, but please, stop throwing yourself a pity party, it’s just annoying. ❞
If she focused real hard on the lines of the floor, they seemed to float, and her words seemed to not hurt. She waited until the pressure to her muscle left a cold mark before going straight to the bathroom. It reeked of acid sweat, at least five girls were huddled near the two sinks and two others were consoling a third one who wept about a gash in her dress. If she focused on the tiles real hard they weren’t there, she wasn’t suffocating and she wasn’t hiding from Azula at all. The pity-party thing was true though, she did it all the time, but it never worked with Azula. If she hid, this time, however, it wasn’t for her girlfriend to look for her, which she wouldn’t. She had wine to sip and people to look at from afar. It was infuriating how much she didn’t want to have fun.
She lowered the lid and sat on the dirty throne, listening to the conversations there, most of them concerning boys with their pants down and no class. The bottle made a distinct clinking sound as she posed it besides her, ready to be discouraged on the behalf of people her age. Ty Lee, queen of the bathroom district, reigning over suspicious odors and hoarding girly secrets. ❝ I think he likes me, ❞ one of them said with a airy voice, ❝ at least that’s what Emi said. ❞ This seemed like a gigantic trap ‘Emi’ was digging just in front of her. She didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe Emi really knew and tried to force them together because the girl in the bathroom was chicken shit and couldn’t express her dumb feelings to a dumb boy.
Ever since she’d gotten together with Azula, she had started to realize her potential, and her league, and that maybe she deserved better than prepubescent, lusty creatures. That’s why she felt a pang of distress towards those great girly girls who only wanted to be appreciated, they deserved better than to run after inconsiderate jerks. At least for herself, it was them to approach, and Azula to scare them off.
❝ I don’t know, though, I heard he slept with Sophia, ❞ she hesitated again, water rushing and smothering their voices for a moment. Gossips, it had been a while she had heard some proper ones. Whenever Azula had something ‘juicy’ to declare, it was to report Zuko’s every ‘weaknesses’ and faults. It was astounding how differently Mai and her spoke of him, and how they expected her to take a side. For one, Zuko made her best friend happy, and two, Azula kept winning —— she didn’t get why they obstinately ranted and ranted as they got everything they ever wanted from that boy.
Thudding on her cabin, a girl leaned on the door, which caved in with a crack. ❝ You’re taking hours, hurry up. ❞ Ty Lee was about to obey, before she remembered this was her kingdom, and that none was allow to speak such vulgarity towards her piss-taking ancient blood. Blame the alcohol, blame Azula, blame her lame excuses but she was not totally herself: ❝ Uh…no? I think I broke it. It’s not pretty in there. ❞
She smiled serenely at the defeated sigh and distant footsteps. She crossed her legs on the seat. At her words, most people had exited, disgusted by the amount of puke it could have taken to destroy an industrial loo. Still a few people moved about silently, and she retrieved her bottle for a desperate gulp. She thought this kind of stuff only happened in romantic comedies, though she was definitely a dramatic girl, with a dramatically selfish girlfriend.
Well ——— she didn’t regret the entire night. Showing up with the girl who surpassed the ‘gorgeous’ level and reached something more heavenly had dastically boosted her pride. For Azula to have groped at her hand just as they arrived and for her pace to have accelerated to the reactions had been grossly satisfying. After the first meal the goddess had whispered obscenities in the crook of her neck, bitching on dresses and people and making her tear up with laughter. There had also been her solving the cake dilemma; on the menu there had been cherry and dark chocolate, as well as strawberry and white chocolate —- they had both chose a different one, though Azula’s choice had solely been to offer it to Ty Lee. She didn’t feast, she ate politely, and often neglected dessert, but this time she had plopped a little in her mouth, her parents positively agape that she even dared interrupting. After being crowned prom queen, her mood had soared even higher, but then…
Then she had foolishly hoped for a dance, and here she was. And she admired Azula for this, as much as she truly suffered, she wouldn’t scamper to the nearest shelter. As soon as things got difficult, she didn’t flee until things returned facile. More than that, she didn’t crave to belong as much as she did. Friends were assets, she was a master at manipulation, as much as she was her guinea pig. This girl had a way to constantly remind her of her flaws, of her air-headed nature, of how hollow she could be, putting that smile up for people to see, but not for her to feel.
She concluded that when Azula did smile it was honestly. And barely.
And to hate people, Azula was right —— she knew them upside down, she knew they were all perverted little assets. Azula knew her thoroughly, it was scary at times, how deeply she could understand every mechanism that ticked to most stimuli. She definitely had learned such from her father. Sometimes Ty Lee wondered if Azula really did like her, after all, she was perverted too, and she didn’t have anything to win out of their unison. Nothing substantial anyway.
Thudding, again. Heavy and demanding on the door, and she jerked back against the cool handle, it digging maliciously into her hip. ❝ I said I fucking broke it! ❞ and it took a few seconds for a puzzled ❝ what? ❞ to make absolute sense. Standing behind the thin, beige door, was the Prom Queen.
❝ I broke the toilet. ❞ Ty Lee repeated, slipping forward on her white throne and stabilizing herself with the wall. ❝ Alright… it doesn’t matter. I’m driving you home, get out. ❞ Azula said, as dry as sand leaking from her mouth. ❝ I don’t —— It’s pretty embarrassing.❞
Her pathetic mutters didn’t make the other flinch, hot palm rubbing from her temple to her fleshy cheek. ❝ I’ll be waiting in the car, don’t be long. ❞ She sighed, and she waited until the door flapped shut to pick up the bottle on the ground, pushing the wincing door open, and emptying its lukewarm content in the sink. She then proceeded to wash her hands, buying time. In the large mirror, sweaty hair curled atop her forehead, a strap of her dress was misplaced, her mascara had started to radiate around her eyes and the alcohol clouded them severely. Giggling hollowly, she pushed back the damp hair on her head, straightened her shoulders, ignoring the skin turning red on her neck as she decided to come out.
The fresh air filled her lungs as quickly as it exited as Azula appeared behind her and laced their arms. She must have looked outraged and bewildered enough, if she bothered to say: ❝ I know you. ❞
Not that she was wrong. She had… not planned to get into the car, preferring to dance. Dance until her legs ached dully, until the middle of her back cramped and her neck stiffened. But Azula knew her and led her to the expensive vehicle instead, all responsible and pure, wasn’t she?
Ty Lee got sick as soon as she was helped in the back seat, the damp night making her shrivel into herself. Tired eyes didn’t bother stabilizing her crazy vision, heat evaporated around her form, and Azula’s aura turned sour and weird around them. Hers was fading, head canted on her shoulder, she let the motor lead her around, heart lifting up then pressing down, up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down. Azula would get upset if she told her to decelerate. So she didn’t and kept the acid bordering her throat.
She closed her eyes when they reached the front of her house, the driver hopping off her seat and promptly opening her door. Deft arm snaked around her form to unplug the belt, then backed a bit. ❝ I don’t think I need to carry to bed, do I? ❞ More of an affirmation than an inquiry, she slipped off her seat pathetically, Azula pushing closed the door behind her and trotting quickly to catch up to her. She took care of opening the door silently, whispering to her that she needed to hold the ramp as they got to her room.
Next minute, Azula unzipped her dress as they stood in the middle of the room, not bothering to turn on the lights. ❝ Lift your hands up, ❞ she muttered calmly, pulling the fabric over her head in a swift motion. Then, she could see how her elbows bloated strangely at her sides, arms longer than they should be. Strong legs rubbed against each other sheepishly, she could also see the paleness of her skin reddening furiously. She could see all of it ——- her, and she didn’t think of grabbing some sort of clothing. Azula did however, handing her sweatpants and a lemon-patterned white shirt. Slipping the last and discarding the first, she climbed on the mattress and messily covered herself of many covers. Azula had already left the room when she looked back.
Though, not two minutes later she entered, casually settled a wide glass of water and an aspiring to her bed side and was about to get up when she called her name. Feigning curiosity, she turned and her brows raised expectantly. ❝ Don’t I get a kiss? ❞ she breathed, shifting as to be cozier, Azula straightened, ❝ and for what? ❞ simpered the devil.
Usually she didn’t talk back; blame the alcohol.
❝ Sometimes I wonder why you’re even with me. Really. I don’t get it.❞ The flood of words forced to breathe deeply, ❝ You don’t… you hate everything I like, my friends, my family… me sometimes. ❞ Expecting an exaggerated wrath, she winced, braced for either vile silence and a final stare, or heated whispers.
❝ So that’s why you’ve been acting up? ❞ she asked instead, more of a confirmation concerning her own hypothesis than a question. ❝ I can’t say you’re not right. But you’re missing something. ❞ Her and her preambles, her and her eloquence, it was perfect. ❝ I… appreciate you; for you.❞
❝ Besides… you know me ——— I only do what I want to. ❞
Gone she was; but evermore present in the few words of reassurance she concealed beneath soft reproaches.
name: ugh this would involve a lot of gross fights and ty lee not accepting the ridiculous names azula would want to give the baby. in the end azula would agree to name the baby herself if it was a boy and ty lee, a girl. eventually they find out its a girl and ty lee probably pokes azula real hard in the shoulder tbh. oh and her name would be katsu because it means victory ~ v ~
gender: welp a girl, but they’re both happy bc girl power hot damn
general appearance: as she grows up katsu takes a lot more after azula, at first her eyes looked dull and wet like ty lee’s, but within a few weeks they darkened and started to have those golden flecks. in terms of body she’s super lanky and clumsy, she doesn’t have any of her mamas’ postures. she wears a lot of hippie stuff like knitted sweaters and ample pants and wears her dark hair loose. she looks goofy and easygoing.
personality: but in terms of personality she’s really opinionated, she’s more into sports, tyzula rlly forced her into it at the youngest age and she does a lot of martial arts. ty lee bothers more to come with her at competitions and often helps her out with stretching and work out programs. azula helps her with her homework but she’s like ty lee, air headed and not interested with school work. surprisingly azula isn’t too merciless concerning that. katsu has a hard time expressing her feelings and she’s a little hyperactive.
special talents: katsu is a natural mediator, it probably comes with the fact that their family is sooooo dysfunctional.
who they like better: ty lee LETS NOT LURE OURSELVES
who they take after more: it’s hard to say, in terms of appearances definitely azula, but in terms of personality it’s a grey zone really
personal headcanon: katsu once tried to run away from home ( when she was little ) and ty lee couldn’t look at her in the eyes for very very long :’(
tired fingers curled instantaneously to the quiet sound of her voice, grazing softly against azula’s university sweater. she wondered not why she had selected this moment to express her wish, but the little acrobat giggled — azula’s emotionless tone it was —- hilarious.
it had been an hour or so that she had decided to settle on the bed with her, reading some book tainted black with charabia, at least, in her opinion. she had returned from a training session, pink cheeks and relaxed muscles craving the other’s warmth and stillness as soon as she threw her bag across the room.
her girlfriend seemed plunged in the subject, focused gaze analyzing each phrase with effortless beauty. azula would tell her many times to stop staring; but those moments where they could be so intimate were rare, and thus her innocent grey eyes would adore her face for the time being.
they worshiped her pouty lips, hanging deliciously like the petals of a flower curling from the cold. she squirmed with envy at the sight of her flawless skin —- her own was indeed healthy but not quite spotless or rid of the curse of puberty. those eyes widened at the sight of azula’s feminine, bored gaze, wandering through the pages without according her attention. how admirable was her exterior, but she was even more majestic inside.
ty lee’s hands deepened on each side of the student, knees following as she climbed over azula. her head then slipped comically beneath the book she held up, azula’s wrists laying on her shoulders whilst the pages adorned the back of her head. her eyes met incredulity and amusement in almost golden irises —- and she grinned.
❝ well ——- if i were a cat, i’d sleep on you all day. and purr in your neck, and meow to cheer you up! i’d probably try to lick your face but i doubt you’d appreciate that… ❞
the gymnast stopped when she felt pressure on the back of her head, and realized azula was bringing the book towards herself —— her lips towards her lips. ty lee kissed her sweetly and gratefully, blushing horribly.
”you already act like one.’
she muttered when they pulled off, book retreating from its previous position and blocking her sight. the cover pushed her back and she curled silently next to her again, utterly, blissfully satisfied.
