#I'm constantly being yelled at for my shortcomings

[singingshutin]

Well, I tried.

I tried my darndest.

The result is mediocre at best, but have my best attempt at 'fixing' Ignatz's and Lysithea's support chain. I suppose I'd call this a B+ support with some light contextual padding involving the other Deer?

(I am so sorry Ignatz and fellow Ignatz lovers out there: writing this from her point of view made the most sense and each time I dissed my boy I felt it in my heart, dude. I'm in pain right now.)

hilda is his big sister and i will live, breathe, fight, and die on this hill

Read here on a03 or down below the cut-

Lysithea hates hot days. She hates the feeling of sweat trickling down her forehead into her eyes; hates the cloying smell of the candles in the entrance hall. She hates the constant bustle of the harvest, filling the monastery with crowds of new people who all - without exception - treat her like a child.

She hates that most of all. How anyone could stand being patronized and assisted at every turn, she didn’t know. To be treated as lesser. As weaker. That she could never understand.

As if on cue, the painter she doesn’t understand rounds the corner, and he offers her an all-too-cheery wave.

“Oh, hey.” She doesn’t bother to wave back. “It's you. Going for a walk again today?”

He shakes his head. “No, I'm on cooking duty today, and I have to head into town for some groceries.”

“All on your own?” Lysithea puts her hands on her hips. “Hm, I'd better go with you. I'd be worried if you went by yourself.”

“No, please! I can manage on my own.”

“But won't you have a hard time carrying everything back?”

“Not at all. I'll be fine. I'm just replacing a few ingredients. Also, I may not look it, but I'm actually quite strong.” He holds up an arm, pride beaming from his smile. “I've been exercising every day!”

“You're right-” Lysithea crosses her arms, “you don't look it. Your biceps are a fraction of the size of Raphael's. If you start fumbling around under the weight of all the groceries, and then you trip and spill everything everywhere…”

Ignatz’s arm and smile have both dropped. Lysithea shrugs.

“Look, I'm just saying, that could be your future. It could happen. It doesn't look pretty.”

He looks down toward his shoes. “That's what you think of me, huh?”

“Yep. You're honestly a bit of a mess.”

“I see.” The painter lifts his head. “If that's how you feel…”

Lysithea feels her lip curling up, and she does nothing to fight the disdain. “Oh, knock it off with the wounded puppy-dog eyes! As though I'm some sort of villain in your story…”

“I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention. I'm just a bit sensitive, that's all.”

Of course he is.

“You're talking like you don't respect me.”

Lysithea snorts. “I see. So now it's my fault? No matter how grown you seem to think you are, there's so much you're incapable of. You can play at being a mature adult, but it only ever complicates things. And that's exactly what makes you look like a child.”

“Oh, enough already!”

Lysithea has never heard Ignatz yell before. The sound is startling and shrill, grating in a way she never expected his soft voice to be. She’s never seen him angry before, either - his eyes hot and face flushed as he clenches his hands to his chest.

“Would you just leave me alone?!”

The boy turns and darts away- and for a moment, his eyelashes glitter with a wetness that wasn’t there before.

A long moment of silence hangs over Lysithea as she stands alone. Finally, words return to her tongue.

“Maybe I… went a bit far that time…”

She shakes her head.

“But he's so stubborn despite his ineptitude. I can't just leave it be. He's so foolish—constantly making a mess of things. Wait... But then... No matter how much we stretch, some things are always beyond us. I think it's fine to be vulnerable and ask for help sometimes. What he said to me before…”

She stops.

“To everyone else, do I seem just like Ignatz?”

Lysithea von Ordelia wasn’t in trouble - at least, not yet.

It seemed that despite Ignatz’s many shortcomings - the artist was indecisive, absent-minded, and woefully inadequate at any attempt to care for himself - he wasn’t a tattletale. Though, Lysithea thought, that probably had more to do with his scaredy-cat nature than anything else. The kid acted like a baby at the sound of thunder. The first and last time he’d ever been on a pegasus ended in an emergency trip to the infirmary when he’d panicked and flailed himself off the animal mid-flight, leaving him concussed, confused, and blind as a bat without his glasses - and the rest of class time had been wasted in a house-wide search on hands and knees in the grass for the blasted things.

Ridiculous.

But he would crack. Eventually, he would crack.

Lysithea sighed, leaning her head on her hand. At the very least, a good tongue-lashing from the Professor and Manuela would mean Lysithea wouldn’t have to sit with this strange heaviness in her chest anymore.

She could move on.

One day passed. Ignatz was nowhere to be found. No one said anything about it, not even the Professor. Leonie was put on cooking duty in his stead that night; at least she used less vegetables than her predecessor did. Still not enough sweets… but Lysithea wasn’t sure she had the stomach for cake today, anyway.

One day turned into two. Ignatz’s seat at the front of the lecture hall was still empty. The Professor reminded everyone to be careful- winter was just around the corner, she didn’t want to worry about anyone getting sick due to changes in the weather. Like always, Marianne excused herself after class- though Lysithea was pretty sure that the stables were in the opposite direction of the lower student dormitories. Where Ignatz’s room was.

Two days turned to three. Claude was sitting in Ignatz’s seat today, lounging comfortably like he had been in that spot all year. His own usual place next to Hilda in the back- well, the door creaked open a few minutes into the lecture, and Lysithea ducked her head to peek. There was Ignatz, somehow even smaller and paler than she remembered, being shepherded toward Hilda by an unusually solemn Lorenz. Hilda pulled him down to sit beside her and bumped her cheek gently against his shoulder.

Three days turned to a full week - and Lysithea realized she hadn’t seen Ignatz in the dining hall for a while. Raphael shrugged it off when she asked him why he was leaving the dining hall with two plates- one specifically full of his best friend’s favorite foods. As her fellow student disappeared out into the late morning, Lysithea found herself wondering how much of it Ignatz would actually eat.

Soon, an entire moon had passed. And still, no one had come to reprimand her for her outburst.

She hadn’t moved on.

Ignatz wasn’t in the library. He wasn’t in the stables. He wasn’t in the cathedral. He wasn’t in the training grounds, or the sauna, or market. The infirmary only held a tipsy Manuela, and the knight’s hall had an arguing Catherine and Shamir- but no sign of the be-spectacled artist.

At this rate, all the courage Lysithea had summoned over lunch was going to dissipate before dinner. She shook her head as she pushed open the door to the greenhouse-

"There you are!"

The boy crouched on the floor with a sketchbook jumped like he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

"L-Lysithea-"

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

It was ever so slightly, but Lysithea could still see it: Ignatz had paled at that statement.

"Ah," was all he said.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two. The artist stared down at the ground, hunched over his sketchbook like he was hiding something naughty.

Lysithea took a step forward. "What are you drawing?” She tried. “Flowers?"

"I'm not drawing." He clutched the papers a little closer to his chest.

"You've got charcoal on your hands," she pointed out, "you've been drawing."

He gulped, turning wide, frightened eyes to face her.

"I- it isn't anything important."

"Can I see?"

"U-uh-"

He hadn't said no.

Lysithea walked over next to him, peering over his shoulder. He scrunched down a little lower, but his narrow frame couldn't hide the massive bouquet of flowers sprawled across the page. One huge lily was the centerpiece, entangled in a rich bundle of baby's breath and forget-me-nots. A doodle of a bumblebee, as fuzzy and soft and round as the real thing, sat sleepily on the lily's petals, resting delicate legs against the flower's elegant throat.

Lysithea's breath caught in her throat. "That's- really good."

"It's… not done yet." The boy fidgeted. "I wanted it to be finished first… before you saw it, I mean."

"Before I saw it?"

Ignatz nodded once, somehow shrinking even further into his uniform. "Lilies are your favorite, I thought, a-and I wanted to get it perfect-"

“They look done to me.”

"My shading isn't right-" The boy shook himself. "But- I guess that doesn't matter anymore."

Lysithea glanced up. Now was the perfect time to say it. She opened her lips; and all of a sudden, her mouth felt drier than the Sreng desert. The two were just staring at each other. Funny- Ignatz’s ears were bright pink, she noticed, the same color as the carnations behind him.

Then, like a water through a broken dam, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I wanted to apologize- for yelling! I shouldn’t have yelled at you before-”

Lysithea's mouth dropped open and she stared at the red faced boy on the ground in front of her. He - Ignatz Victor - was apologizing to her - Lysithea von Ordelia?

Surely she had heard him wrong.

“That’s what the flowers were supposed to be for. And-" Ignatz dove into his bag, rummaging frantically, "and I asked Hilda what perfume she wears, and she helped me find some. It took a month for it to arrive in the caravan, but-"

"Stop it, Ignatz."

Ignatz froze, clutching the tiny crystal bottle to his chest. “S-sorry.”

"No, just-” Lysithea bit her lip. “Listen. Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Ignatz stared down at the ground. "I just wanted to apologize properly."

“Oh, Goddess-" Lysithea pressed her palms into her eyes. "If you were literally anyone else, I’d think you were doing this on purpose.”

“Doing- what?”

She dragged her hands down her face and blinked at him through her fingers. "Just- piling on the guilt."

The painter blanched. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Stop saying that." 

Like magic, Ignatz fell silent.

Lysithea looked down at her hands. "Stop saying it, because… um…"

She swallowed hard.

"Because I'm the one who needs to apologize."

Her face flared hot at the look of shock on his.

"I- I yelled at you first. And- and I said some really… really awful things. To you. About you- just because I was mad. And- I felt like it, in the moment… I called you an incapable child."

He winced.

"And-" she pushed on, "and I was going to let it go. I was going to let it sit and not say anything because, surely, the Professor would find out and scold me, and then I'd be done. But that didn't happen."

There was the apology, forming on his lips; she cut him off before he could start up again.

"And it's good that it didn't happen. Because I would have forgotten it. Like a child, I would have let it go- when… a real adult would say sorry."

She took a deep breath.

"And I am. I'm really, really sorry."

He stared at her, his brown eyes like saucers in his thin face.

Lysithea's heart sunk into her shoes. The thought hadn't crossed her mind until now, but- he wasn't going to forgive her, was he? 

She deserved that, she supposed. After all she'd said-

"...can I still give you the perfume?" Ignatz held out the crystal bottle with a shy smile. "I won't use it… and I'd like you to have it. As a token of- my forgiveness? Though…" He flushed. "That sounds silly- a token of our friendship."

A wave of relief crashed into Lysithea's knotted stomach and she smiled back, reaching for the pink vial. "Thank you."

Ignatz paled as she pulled away. "Wait-"

She looked down. A dark line of charcoal was smeared across her little finger, right where her hand had brushed his.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Stop it." Lysithea rubbed her hand on her dress. "See? Gone. Can't even tell against the black uniform."

She dropped to sit next to him, and her hair fell over his shoulder. Normally, she would have avoided sitting that close to anyone- it made her look even smaller by comparison. But today- today it would be okay.

He tapped his paper. "I still want to finish this before I give it to you, though."

"Can I watch?"

"Oh- um…" He blushed. "If you want to. I'm not sure it'll be much fun-"

"I'm too tired for fun right now, I think."

They smiled at each other.

"Me too."

The two sat in silence as Ignatz's stick of charcoal slid across the page with a gentle scratch- but this was different than before. This was mutual. Comfortable. Calming and soothing in their togetherness.

A little thought bubbled up in Lysithea's brain.

"I've been thinking." Lysithea turned to look up at the boy sitting beside her.

His hand paused and he tilted his head at her. "Yes?"

"Maybe… maybe I should try something new. Something I'm- not… good at… right away. And- and learn how to accept help."

Ignatz shifted slightly. "...I could teach you how to paint."

Lysithea looked up. "Huh?"

"I could teach you how to paint," Ignatz repeated, pushing his glasses up his nose with an excited twitch Lysithea hadn't seen in a long, long time. "If you wanted to, of course, but for something new- something different… something I can help you with-"

He stopped, a blush shooting up his neck into his cheeks.

"Not that I think you'll be bad at it, I just meant-"

"I think I'd like that."

Lysithea smiled.

"Thanks, Ignatz."

It’s been a while.

Lysithea looks up at Ignatz’s bedroom door. She can hear him on the other side, humming pleasantly to himself as he muddles about the room. He’s got a nice voice, she thinks. It isn’t clear and full from years of training like Manuela’s, or bright and soaring like Hilda’s. It's soft, and a bit wavery on low notes, but it's warm and sure. Like an old, familiar hug after a long journey.

She puts her hand on the door, and it gives beneath her fingers.

“Um, hey…”

“Oh! Lysithea.” Ignatz turns with a smile. “Something I can do for you?”

“Can you help me out with my shopping?”

“Yes, of course. You need me to carry stuff?”

“Actually, can you pick up some tea for me? I'd do it, but I'm drowning in work.”

”You're so busy you can't go shopping? OK. Do you have a favorite kind of tea?”

“I'm not too picky. I just like having it around, really. Whatever's cheapest works for me." She holds out a palmful of gold. "Here's some money.”

Ignatz doesn’t accept the coins. “One question. Why me? You don't really need my help for this.”

“I just thought I could lean on you a bit. You know,” a smile creeps across her lips, “rather than trying to do everything on my own.”

“Right. I see. Well, good! I'm glad you decided to approach me.” That old familiar blush crosses his cheeks. “Ah, but, for this particular task, you might be better off doing it yourself.”

“Oh?”

“There are so many different kinds of tea, and I'm not very discerning." He rubs a hand against the back of his head. "What if I get you one you don't like? When I do my own shopping, I pick a tea at random. Otherwise I'd be paralyzed by all the choices. It's the same with food. Sometimes I stare and stare at the options and never decide.”

That, Lysithea thinks, is a burden I can take off his plate- and put some cake on it instead.

Aloud, she adds,“You looked like you were just fine when you went to get groceries the other day.”

“I really had to push myself to do that alone. I don't think I can do that again.” His head dips ever so slightly. “Sorry…”

Lysithea pockets the gold with a half-smile. “Aha. So you've stopped trying to do things on your own, then?”

“Yeah. Still, though…” he looks around the room. “For today, how about you have some of my tea? If that'll do…”

“Sounds nice, sure. Do you mind brewing mine while you're at it?”

“OK!” He grins. “Though I can't do it as skillfully as Lorenz, I'm afraid. I'll get it ready right away. Feel free to start focusing on your work.”

His smile still has a hint of the nervous boy from years earlier. He hasn’t changed completely.

Lysithea smiles down at the worn carpet on his floor. “Heh.”

Ignatz tilts his head at her. “What?”

“I mean," she glances up at him, "you seem plenty reliable to me.”

“I do? Really? How so?”

“You're fun, you're easy to be around, and you rarely complain when you help others.”

Ignatz chuckles. He has a pleasant laugh; gentle and sweet. “Well, I'm just pouring you some tea. I'm not sure that qualifies as ‘help.’”

Lysithea isn't going to let him deflect praise this time. She leans forward, an insistent gleam in her eyes. “It's not easy for me to rely on people, but with you, it's different.”

“Well, there aren't many things I can do, frankly."

Lysithea furrows her brows at him with an exaggerated frown. He laughs outright at that, raising his hands in a gesture of placation.

"What I can do, I will do! So if you need anything, ask me, and I'll try to help.”

Hmph. Verbal praise does very little for her artistic friend, it seems. If he won't take it, then-

She sighs.

Ah, well. What was the harm in one childish action?

Like a cat, she pounces. She throws herself at him, squeezing his ribcage as tightly as her weak arms could manage. 

This will have to do.

“You really are unreliable, as it turns out!" She laments,"Guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Ignatz laughs again- and this time the rumble in his chest tickles against her nose. A gentle pressure slides around her waist: it's his arms, she realizes. Strong despite their slenderness, he's returning her embrace. He's hugging her back.

Lysithea can't stop the hot flush of embarrassment. This is so undignified. So immature. So unlike the perfect image she has worked so hard to cultivate.

And yet, she thinks, she doesn't really mind.

[ghost1galaxies]

I am deadass tired of existing, just thought I'd share that

[seyaryminamoto]

May I ask - why Ozai likes Ursa more than Azula? Keep in mind you're not the only author who choose this portrayal and I'm as confused by it as Azula is

Oh, I know I’m not the only author who portrays it that way. These guys

did it too! :’D Though this guy

backtracked on it, to a fault, merely turning Ozai into someone who gives zero shits about anyone ever. Which means he gives the same amount of shits for Azula and Ursa. His Ozai is surprisingly fair on that front!

Alright, all jokes aside, the main reason many of us interpret Ozai’s relationship with Ursa as a little more complex than originally presented, it’s because of this shot: 

(Credit: former Piandao.org screenshots, now turned into a Google Drive folder)

That’s the same fountain-pond-thingy  where Ursa had been sitting in earlier flashbacks of that episode.

(Credit: same as above)

It’s such a small, simple moment that I suppose most Ozai haters would say it amounts to nothing, yet it actually speaks lengths about his character: why would Ozai stand here, melancholically, before a fountain that is no longer functioning (because in his screenshot, it’s not), a place where his wife used to sit, right on the morning after she left? This is a guy who literally just got EVERYTHING he ever wanted. He is Fire Lord now, thanks to the scheming and conniving and wicked plotting that took place over the previous day. He finally overcame his father and brother’s shadows! So… why would our first shot of a man who finally succeeded at everything he wanted be not a shot of said man rejoicing in triumph, but a shot of a man who is, by all effects, in mourning?

This suggests that Ozai may have cared about Ursa. The fact that we don’t see them angry, arguing or bickering through this episode also suggests that their relationship, while far from a lovey-dovey happy mushy thing, is that of two people who at the very least coexist peacefully. We don’t see any direct interactions between them, so yes, it’s possible they were far more troubled than the episode suggests (I, personally, interpret it that way), since everything in Zuko Alone is seen through Zuko’s eyes. But IF Ursa and Ozai were in such a bad place, to the point where he would have even convinced her to leave as he does in the Search… why would he do this? Why would he stand by that fountain as though honoring Ursa somehow?

All this being said, I personally find Ursa a much more interesting and dynamic character if her relationship with Ozai isn’t that of a victim and his abuser, but of a woman with such sharp wit that, even without being a bender, ergo, representing no physical threat to her husband, still wielded such authority that she could keep this fierce, savage man in check, capable of respecting her when she’s around, and even honoring her when she leaves. I have said it before, and I’ll say it again: in my very humble opinion and headcanon, if Ozai ever got close to genuinely loving someone, it was Ursa.

As ever, disclaimer necessary: this does NOT mean Ozai was entitled to Ursa’s love in return, this does NOT mean Ursa is to blame for the man Ozai becomes, I’m not implying this is a situation where “love” would have absolutely saved Ozai from being the man we know him to be. While I do believe that if he had chosen her above his ambitions he might have been ~better~, it was Ozai himself who had to make that choice. I don’t blame Ursa for how her relationship with Ozai turns out, whether in canon or comics or Gladiator, NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. Relationships like theirs are complex, difficult and not straightforward: both characters have faults, and both deserve to be held accountable for them. So Ozai deserves being held accountable for sacrificing everything for power, and that’s that.

But finally, getting into your question… why would Ozai like Ursa better than Azula?

Personally, in the way I want to portray them through flashbacks, it’s because Ursa makes NOTHING easy for Ozai, since day one. She isn’t trying to please him, she isn’t just a doormat waiting for him to stomp all over her: she has demands of her own, the first of them respect, and Ozai finds himself giving it, even if he doesn’t quite reason with why he’s doing it. He wants her to care about him, probably as starved for affection as his daughter is later on too, and whenever he made her happy, even if just a little, he would have felt a sense of accomplishment that was absolutely unprecedented for him.

Zuko canonically has described his family by saying they were “happy”, at some point. While no one can say for sure what time period he refers to (it could be the happy times ended when his mother vanished, or perhaps a little before that), I’ve always assumed he wouldn’t have seen Ozai and Ursa as they were in the Zuko Alone flashback and thought “wow my parents are so happy, look at their poker faces! That’s happiness!” So, I believe they actually were happy once, enough to make each other smile or laugh. There’s a simple scene in the first comic trilogy where they’re at the beach with their children, simply sitting together at the sand while their kids play in the sand and water: who’s to say those aren’t the kinds of moments Zuko refers to as happiness?

Compare that to the Ozai we meet in canon: do we ever see him happy in Book 3 about anything but his advancements and achievements? His smiles are always smirks. Every situation he’s in, he’s merely basking in becoming more powerful and fulfilling more of his often-pointless ambitions. While he seems to respect Azula to a fault (she interrupts Zuko in a war meeting and she gets no Agni Kai as punishment, Ozai is Mr. Hypocrisy Incarnate), did we ever see anything that suggested genuine affection for her? While I write him as directly involved in her training, canonically Azula has been trained by Lo and Li, two non-benders. Even a tiny canonical hint at how Ozai may have been involved in helping Azula reach her full potential as a bender could be, to a fault, interpreted as him caring for her a little more than he originally planned to, being invested in her growth for what it is and not only for what advantages it offers him. But instead, the entire extent of what we know about their relationship is that he sends Azula on missions, basically in the capacity of a military agent or leader: as much as this allows Azula to show she’s a badass, does it show Ozai cares about her? Do we have a single hint that he actually is emotionally invested in his daughter?

AT BEST… the lack of punishment for having lied to him about Aang’s death can be, somewhat, interpreted as unwillingness on Ozai’s part to punish Azula too harshly for a huge mistake. Even then, by the finale he outright yells at her before offering her an important “mission” that he can only entrust to her. And that’s their canon relationship, isn’t it? Missions, missions and missions. He hands her missions, she delivers. The consequences aren’t too steep if she doesn’t, but he might even yell at her if she tests his patience too much.

Basically, my take on Ozai respected Ursa, even though Ursa has no power of her own to threaten him beyond her disapproval and displeasure. Because she earned that respect, she was the only person he NEARLY considered an equal. He was willing to surrender if she was adamant about certain things (this is no spoiler, since chapter 9 we all know that, in Gladiator, Azula never learned swordsmanship with Piandao because Ursa didn’t want her to, and to Azula’s eternal outrage, Ozai gave in to Ursa’s demands, just like that!), he was willing to listen to her opinions on whatever was happening in the world, he would argue with her and they’d have disagreements because they were both stubborn as hell. All of this means Ursa’s opinions, beliefs and decisions mattered to Ozai, enough that he would sometimes back down and let her have her way.

Azula, however, has been his pet project, the perfect child, for as long as she has lived. He raised her to be his heir, to uphold his legacy, molded her after himself (even if the result wasn’t at all like him :’D), and Azula dreamt of following on his footsteps for a long time (until her own equal shows up and his influence serves to change the way she sees the world…). Azula, then, is his most loyal ally, and Ozai takes her for granted because of that. She will always be on her side because he raised her to be, and that’s that. 

Ozai’s first blast of reality that shows him Azula is NOT unbreakable, that she is NOT undefeatable and that he shouldn’t send into danger willy-nilly? It’s in the White Lotus Attack arc, where he finds her terribly sick in her room and she’s mortified that he’d see her that way. That was the first moment an actual surge of fatherly instincts came over Ozai since Azula was a very tiny kid.

Azula’s rebellions against Ozai in Part 1 are relatively small, and she’s constantly terrified to her very bone whenever she opposes him at something, as in her birthday. Ozai was displeased by it, and she was troubled and wondering how to improve things between them again later on. Pleasing her father is a behavior ingrained in her head from an early age. She wanted to make sure she was on his good side, even if she was growing much more aware of his mistakes, his shortcomings and everything wrong about him by then. Not being on good terms with her father was terrifying for her in those days, terrifying in ways it never was for Ursa: in Azula’s case, it’s learned behavior acquired mainly by seeing, through Zuko, what happens to someone Ozai considers unreliable and disposable. She absolutely doesn’t want to be that.

But it’s not until Part 2 that Azula outright starts to take a stand against her father. And yes, she was terrified too in the Festivals, but she went toe-to-toe with him in front of all his military leaders. Then she took his attempt to punish her, by forcing her to give a public speech she wasn’t ready for, and spun it on itself to both present herself as her father’s soooo loyal daughter while providing the entirety of the Fire Nation with new values to abide by in regards of how they treated slaves and honorary citizens. Ozai’s reaction that time was a petty, small revenge… but he actually was amused by what she’d done. And THAT… that was actual respect from Ozai, for once. He saw his daughter could stand up to him, and get away with it safely. Suddenly she wasn’t just his obedient child-soldier, which was what he had taken for granted that she was: she was a potential leader in her own right. At this point, their relationship changes.

That change takes a turn for the worse after she fails to convince him to carry forward her slavery laws project, and then she discovers Seethus’ assassination spree. At this point, the falling out between them is absolutely dreadful. Ozai doesn’t attack Azula physically, however: he argues with her, snaps back and does his best to convince her that he’s in the right, but she’s 100% certain of the opposite. By this point, Azula is behaving a lot more like Ursa than she ever had before: she defies him, stands up to him, and unlike her mother, she does have literal firepower to back her up. 

Point being: AZULA BECOMES A THREAT.

And while they’ve managed to kind of establish a low-key peace after that (though as you may imagine, this new arc is yet more trouble for the relationship between the Princess and her father), Ozai still sees Azula as a threat ever since. He’s willing to trust she won’t do anything too far out of hand, not as long as he makes enough concessions for her, not if he abides by her advice once in a while… but that makes her no less of a threat anyhow. He needs to make her a reliable ally again, and he can’t do that by wielding his authority over her head anymore. Not when she has already shown herself perfectly willing to ignore it.

And that means he respects her in an entirely different way than how he respected Ursa: he didn’t have any reason, Gladiator-wise, to think Ursa wasn’t on his side, they had disagreements but she was his wife and she supported him through thick and thin even in some REALLY shady stuff. Right now, Azula is starting to look like the entire opposite of that: she was the one he raised to be his wholehearted supporter. The one person who would only ever treat HIM as the hero, the winner, the good guy. And now she’s changed her mind about him, he knows it, and he’s worried about what that entails.

It’s ironic that it’s because of Azula’s rebellious bouts, and the cracks in her mask of the perfect daughter, that Ozai’s bottled-up affection for his daughter emerges. I won’t say that somewhere in the depths of his dark heart he loves her… but I will say that every time Azula rises up against him, he sees some of Ursa in her and he automatically takes her more seriously because of it.

Meanwhile, whenever Zuko stands up to him, he basically feels like it’s an ant shouting at the boot that’s ready to crush it. On a REALLY subconscious level, Zuko seems to embody Ozai’s weaknesses, the side of himself he would much rather pretend doesn’t exist. He despises Zuko for it all, because he’s a reminder of his own shortcomings and failures. And even when Zuko tries to rebel, Ozai continues to treat him as a weakling, unworthy of respect, that only warrants being crushed. He’d never be able to act like this with Azula or Ursa.

So, why would I say he cares more about Ursa, or that she’s his actual #1 while Azula is #2? Because Ursa was never a tool, never a source of self-fulfilment: she was someone who he wanted to impress, whose respect he craved and he offered her his own. He valued her, everything she offered him, even if things between them became complicated for an array of reasons. Ursa has always been a sort of blind spot for Ozai, the one person who made him happy in a sense that didn’t involve ambitions and advancement. She was a good influence on him, all around, even if he seldom knew how to react to her influence positively.

That’s not the bond he had with Azula. She was his perfect heir, and that was all he ever expected of her. Canon-wise, that’s all she is. Gladiator-wise, once she stops being ONLY that, Azula doesn’t simply become someone Ozai respects and approves of: she becomes a threat. She is the one and only person in the Fire Nation who can tear down everything he has worked for, and it sure looks like she wants to do exactly that. He has been molding her all her life, only to find she has become his worst possible enemy and now he has to be much more cautious about how he deals with her.

One day, maybe, once his characted develops some more… Ozai might start respecting Azula on the actual same level he respected Ursa. One day, he might realize that, while craving Ursa’s affection and love, he had already earned Azula’s but he threw it to waste. By then, it may be much more difficult to determine who is his #1 indeed… but until that point is reached, he will continue to hold onto the memory of his wife while ignoring that his bond with his daughter is what will determine if he can attain either true salvation or eternal damnation… :’)

[cockabeetle]

Haunting, chapter 2

Ended up writing a second part

We'll see where it goes

AO3 link here,

~○~

Lev winced, waiting for the princess to yell at him. She'd frozen; stock still, eyes closed, seemingly even holding her breath. He was... waiting for her to blow up at him. For being difficult, for being useless, for failing his missions... for anything, really. Instead, after what felt like eternity but was probably only just a handful of minutes, Talia took in a breath and sat down heavily in front of him.

"Report for me, one last time." That... wasn't what he expected. He sat up a little straighter, crossing his legs properly and fixing his posture. Losing that teasing turn to his expression.

"...His majesty was controlled into believing he was freed, and I was given contact with him without knowing that. I... believed his orders overrode those of your sister, and went to Iris to follow through on them. I... thought the spy might have been her aunt, if I were being honest. Gramorr had figured out I was a spy, myself, and... when the plan with Iris failed, he killed me after I got Iris back to earth. I woke up on earth, and at first I thought he banished me here. And then I looked down, and realized I wasn't solid, and... well." Talia snorted.

"I assume you told Izira anything pertinent you found out about Gramorr or the Twins?"

"Of course I did. Praxina can't read well, by the way. She has to be given orders verbally or she won't bother learning them. I think she's got Luestum."

"Loo... what?"

"Loo-ez-tuhm. It's uh. A voltan word for when words dance around the page without a spell? It's some kind of brain problem. There are spells to cure it, but only if it's caught before you hit shanila." Talia blinks at him, before shaking her head slowly.

"Thank you. Alright. So... you died after protecting Iris? I... thank you. We..." she trails off, and Lev holds up a hand.

"You'd be lost without her, I know. You need her for the gems and to win the war and end this. I know. Plus she's..."

"Almost sickeningly sweet? The nicest Melzor you could meet?"

"Uh, no? Have you met her? She's got a worse bark than Li'l Jank! She talks so much smack, it's impressive!" Talia laughs, head thrown back. It's full-bodied and loud and <em>real</em>. Lev hasn't heard anything like it in years.

"She's a Melzor! Of course she's snappy! But... she's so startlingly nice, Little Lion. Haven't you noticed?" If he could, Lev would flush at the old nickname. He ducks his head, smiling a little.

"I guess." Talia grins at him.

"So, all we have to do is figure out what you feel you didn't accomplish. Did you have any life goals you never met? Some expectation you fell short of?" Lev blanched, head whipping up to stare at her.

"Uh."

"Don't be embarrassed! I can't exactly help you if you're too shy to tell me anything!"

"Oh, that's <em>real reassuring,</em> princess!"

Talia pouts at him. Lev holds firm, arms crossed, looking away. He's not going to just! Spill his secrets, his insecurities, his life's shortcomings. Hell no. Not happening. He will not just... roll over and make himself vulnerable. He's dead! He's as vulnerable as he's willing to get right now. Talia groans, and reaches out to flick his arm. It connects, but it doesn't feel like... like a touch. It feels like a jolt of magic or lightning across his skin. He jumps. Talia sticks her tongue out, clearly thinking.

"If you won't tell me, how am I supposed to help you? Don't you want to move on?" Her hair has fallen into her face, eyebrows knit together as she worries her lip between her teeth.

"I don't know, Princess. I. I don't even know what 'moving on' means! Why would I want to risk that, when this seems fine enough right now?"

"Because-!" Talia pauses, eyes flicking around to try and put words to her thoughts.

"Because if you don't move on, you'll start to wither away! Deteriorating without your magic to keep you grounded. It... it could happen so fast, on this planet... there's no ambient magic for you to pull from..." Talia trails off, hiding behind her hair now. Lev thinks.

"Well. That's not entirely true? I can sense a little magic around, coming from something that isn't you or the other princesses. And... if I skim a bit off of Iris I'm sure no one will notice. She leaks magic constantly, I could almost see it before, and now..." it's like a blazing inferno of energy around her. He'd been disgruntled and annoyed by it when he first woke up, it had been much too bright! Talia shrugged.

"That's only prolonging the inevitable, Largitio. You should be able to figure that out." She's still hiding. Lev huffs.

"Maybe it's a good idea to prolong things a bit! I can't just-!" He flounders, trying to think of a proper phrase, still a little flustered from her calling him 'treasure' in xerin. Or had she called him 'spoiled'? He's not good with that language, okay?

"I can't just open up to someone I haven't spoken to in literal years, Talia! I've spent so long keeping all of my thoughts, opinions, and plans close to my chest. You can't expect me to just... bare my heart now, when I've just died for it." Talia looks up then, still clearly insecure, but also hopeful.

"Then... we get to know each other again, and I'll figure out how to help you as we do?" She sounded so small. Lev huffs, turning away.

"Sure, whatever, let's... let's start over, Miss Imperiata." Talia gasped, offended.

"I am not bossy! Or imperious! Take that back, you snake!"

"I thought I was a lion!" He laughed, grinning as she smacked his arm, the same lightning-tingles following each brush of her hand to his arm and shoulder.

Talia groaned then, mirth lost almost as soon as it appeared. Lev didn't pout at the loss, he was just... confused.

"How am I going to keep from getting distracted around you? Auriana and Iris are going to come back soon..." Lev blinked.

"I'd have thought you'd tell them outright?"

"Well... if it were just Auriana and I, it might be something I'd bring up. But she's got a terrible track record of blabbing about my sight and acting like I'm really as creepy as those rumors said. And Iris..." Talia trails off, biting her thumbnail in thought.

"Iris might not know you died, and definitely wasn't aware you were our spy. If I brought you up... I don't know whether she'd be distraught or not. And she definitely wouldn't be happy to hear about you." Lev grumbled a little.

"You fake betray someone <em>one</em> time..."

"Loyalty is important to her, don't pretend it isn't important to you." Talia frowned at him. Lev frowned back.

"Isn't loyalty important to you, Princess?"