Fandom - Avatar
Pairing - none, Azula-centric
Summary - "Here in the darkness, Azula scratches her way out"
Notes - I've never written anything for Avatar before so. Let's see if I can pull this off. Post-series fic.
This, she thought, was humiliating.
Her nails dug into the ground (her perfect perfect nails the ones she spent so long over because they shone in the night and they left marks all over a person's skin), flecked with mud, grit and stone. Stone. Cold, unwarmed stone. The very air made her claustrophobic. It choked in her, stepping on her spirit and she cannot tolerate this. But her voice was hoarse from screaming and her knees were so very, very tired. She was going to wither here. She was going to melt away and be nothing. Like Zuko. She was the greatest, she was the best. She didn't cry, she didn't whine, she was perfect.
There was dirt in her fingernails.
She leaned back a bit. She needed to think. This was only a setback after all. Those fools were too trusting, too caring to treat her like this forever. One day they will let down their guard and she'll tear them all apart.
Azula looked at the bars in front of her. Mock me while you can, she told them, this is my distance.