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top 3 favourite lines of someone who’s read Hamlet once:

- To be or not to be?

- Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t

- To thine own self be true

top 3 favourite lines of someone who’s read Hamlet 69382 times:

- Did you think I meant country matters?

- Frailty, thy name is woman

- It would cost you a groaning to take off mine edge

here’s a little piece I wrote inspired again by @strifentines ‘s Zuko-Azula roleswap AU! i’m posting it here because I can’t be bothered proofreading and posting on Ao3 rn

anyway I did this as a little creative writing exercise while procrastinating my media and statistics exam preparation. it’s an excerpt from the start of the S3 E16 Southern Raiders episode, my take on how I think it might go :]

———

The Western Air Temple was burning.

The Western Air Temple was burning, and Azula had woken to the sounds of three military-class Fire Nation airships firing explosives at them.

She didn’t have much time to assess the situation before the doors were closing, the room was shaking, and debris was falling from the ceiling, right above Katara.

“Move!” She knew the word wouldn’t register to the water tribe girl as quickly as it needed to, so she accompanied her command with a side tackle. The rocks hit the floor where Katara would have been standing if it wasn’t for her, but her rescuee didn’t seem entirely appreciative. Instead, Azula received an elbow to the side for her troubles.

“What are you doing?” Katara ungratefully yelled.

“Saving your life, genius.” At that, Katara rolled her eyes, which Azula supposed was all the thanks she was going to get.

“Life saved, you can get off me now.” Katara pushed herself up and out of Azula’s arms, not so much as offering to help her stand up.

Azula scowled. “Next time I’ll let the falling rocks crush you,” she bitterly replied, only half-sarcastically.

Behind her, the earthbenders were carving some sort of escape passage through the wall. She considered it for a moment, before her mind circled back to the three Fire Nation ships out the front.

They’re here for me. Why else would they be there?

The others were starting to flee through the passage, but Azula turned back, preparing to jump through a hole in the wall.

The Avatar’s voice rang out from behind her. “What are you doing?” So concerned, as always.

“I believe this is a family matter,” she responded. “Stay out of it, and I’ll meet you once I’m done.”

It didn’t sound like a happy silence, but Azula could hear from his footsteps that the boy had joined the others. She was expecting more resistance, more concern for her well-being, blah blah blah, but it seemed he was getting more used to her methods. Good. It was more efficient this way.

She vaulted over bent metal and jumped through an explosion, wrapping her bending around her, making it to the front of the courtyard. A fourth ship rose from the fog, carrying atop it a familiar passenger.

Wrapped in the royal regalia of the Crown Prince, hands wrapped around the railing atop the war balloon was her brother, wearing that stupidly creepy theatre mask. His hair was half up in a finely-crafted topknot, but the rest of it blew about dramatically in the wind. Azula half-wondered if it was a conscious choice, for theatrics. That entrance certainly seemed planned.

“Zuko,” she spat, keeping her voice loud enough to avoid her words being lost in the wind. “What do you want?”

Her brother laughed lightly, like a lilting melody, carried across the wind. It was not a genuine sound.

“Don’t worry Lala,” he almost sang, “I’m not here for you.” His tone was gently condescending, as if he were talking to a child who simply didn’t understand. It was infuriating.

It had also taken Azula a little aback to hear that he wasn’t here for her. If she was in any way disappointed by this, she wasn’t going to admit it to herself.

“Answer my question.”

Zuko sighed, and although Azula couldn’t hear it over the wind, or see his lips move to form it, she could tell because he’d used his entire body to accentuate the gesture. It was a habit he’d picked up from their mother, even if he didn’t know it anymore.

“If you must know, I’m going to capture the Avatar. If you don’t want to get blown up, I suggest you move now.”

Azula planted her feet into a solid stance. If he wanted a fight, he could come and get one. In return, her brother only sighed again.

“You make these things so needlessly difficult, sister.”

Zuko raised his hands and sent a brilliant burst of dazzling white light at her feet. She sidestepped quickly enough to avoid it, but the move had been meant as a distraction- and an explosion on her left sent her flying into a wall.

The ground beneath her began to crack, and Azula pushed herself up as quickly as she could. Around her, supporting pillars began to topple and fall.

She ran towards the crumbling edge, up the side of a titled beam, and threw herself over the edge, landing on the side of the balloon. She hadn’t managed to get a good grip upon landing though, and it only took a slight tilting of the vessel for her to slide off the edge, spiralling into a free fall.

To her eternal luck, she landed on top of another balloon, hidden beneath the fog. Azula looked up to see that Zuko had jumped down from his post, and was watching her rise up through the air. Her balloon stopped level with his, and she watched him take a step back- and then make a running leap through the air towards her position.

Towards her. She wasn’t thinking quick enough- and there was another white flash headed towards her face. She dodged, tucking into a roll, and returned with her own blue flame in a series of quick shots.

Zuko deflected them skilfully, and seemed to be preparing another attack. Azula knew she was at a disadvantage- these war balloons weren’t hers, she didn’t know where her allies were, and she didn’t know if she could take her brother in the state he was in- so her mind quickly flipped through a series of possibilities on how to avoid imminent failure.

Get him monologuing.

“Capturing the Avatar? Seems… beneath you.” Azula didn’t have to say much else, the implication was clear.

Zuko took the bait. He dropped his stance slightly, shifting to instead give her his

attention. He positioned himself in a way that would allow for the best vocal projection over the wind, rather than the best range for fiery attacks.

Azula couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself. Too easy. Even like this, I can read you like a book.

“My honour was called into question,” he began, making no attempt to hide a certain flavour of contempt in his voice. “This is how I can restore it.”

Azula couldn’t keep the shock out of her own voice. “Your honour? Your honour? What could you possibly-“

Zuko held up a hand, cutting her off.

Wow. Rude.

“You want to know what I, Father’s favourite child, could have done to warrant his displeasure.” Azula didn’t like that his tone of voice conveyed that he obviously expected her to know what it was, because she didn’t. She also didn’t like not knowing things.

“I wonder…?” he added, unhelpfully.

Azula was at a loss for words, which was a position she despised being in. Zuko took this moment to advance, taking measured steps forwards, hands behind his back like he wasn’t mere metres away from a fatal precipice.

“Father wasn’t too happy that you lied to him about what happened in Ba Sing Se. And he wasn’t pleased with my compliance in said… what was the word he used again? Treachery.”

Compliance? Please. Azula had only said that Zuko had fired the killing blow against the Avatar, and if her brother had chosen not to dispute that, whatever reasons he might’ve had, not one of them was treasonous. As much as she might like them to be.

No, her dearest brother seemed perfectly incapable of treason thanks to her father’s unethical interventions. She wasn’t even sure if he’d known what the word meant, anymore. Ozai knew that. And if he was really concerned about treason, he certainly wouldn’t have let Zuko remember it, much less live with the consequences.

Which meant that their father had sent the Crown Prince off on this silly quest purely because he wanted his son to suffer, and he wanted his son to remember suffering. To remember not being good enough.

Because even with all the mind control and conditioning in the world, Zuko could never be cleansed, in his father’s eyes, of the crime of simply being himself. He could be perfect, and still not good enough. Azula had once been foolish enough to be jealous of the attention he received from their father- bitterly though, she wondered if after everything, she was still somehow the favourite.

That was probably why Zuko hadn’t spoken out against the lie. Even as the gem of the Fire Nation, he still had to prove himself.

It might have been funny to her if her father had been anyone else, or if there wasn’t a scar on her brother’s face that he thought he’d given himself.

“You’ve got nothing to say to me?” His voice cut through her inner monologue. Azula looked up again, eyes meeting the forceful white of the mask.

“Take that thing off. I can’t hear you properly,” she commanded. It wasn’t particularly true, but it might help her case.

The smile in his voice made it seem like he’d been waiting for her to ask.

“Of course.” Carefully, and with both hands, Zuko lifted off the mask.

Spirits, he looks so much like our father.

Azula was not proud of her first thought, but he’d inherited the same sort of wicked smile, and the strands of hair he’d left undone framed his face in an uncomfortably familiar sort of way.

His eyes had once belonged to his mother, but they’d been empty for some time now, any trace of Ursa scooped out over a circling flame and scorched.

Azula had smiled when her brother was branded, regretted it since, but at that moment, she was almost glad for the scar- it broke the horrifying illusion and drew her mind back to the parts of her brother that were just that- her brother, and nothing else.

The next thing she’d noticed were the bags beneath his eyes, and the creases in his forehead that even a smile stretched far too wide couldn’t disguise.

Zuko looked terrible. He looked like the product of restless nights, of endless stress.

Not for the first time, Azula felt a pain in her chest thinking about how she’d left him alone in the castle with their father again after the eclipse.

But even still, he’d seemed fine on most other occasions she’d seen him unmasked. This seemed… rougher than usual. Rougher than she might even expect from only parental disapproval, even if that parent was the Firelord.

The third thing she noticed was how his scar seemed bigger than normal, etching its way down into his neck, fresher in some places than others.

“Do you like it? It’s beautiful, in some strange way. And it’s mine to keep.”

His words shocked Azula out of her trance. There was something strange about the way he said them, and it wasn’t just the implications of what he was actually saying.

“He doesn’t often give me gifts but this one’s here to have forever.”

It was then the diction clicked- Zuko was quoting something. Azula wasn’t sure what, but the rhythm and the barely hidden disgust-dripping irony in his voice suddenly made sense. It gave her the mildest relief that her brother hadn’t become a full-on sadist as a result of her father just yet.

“You’re staring.” Azula snapped her eyes up to meet her brother’s own uncovered pair. The very eyes his distorted smile never quite reached.

“You seem shocked,” he innocently observed. “What, you weren’t expecting this to happen?”

“It’s not your fault,” Azula blurted out before she could stop herself. It was a slip of emotion, and she immediately regretted it. But if Zuko was surprised at all by the sudden vulnerability, it didn’t show at all.

“I know,” he responded plainly, and surprisingly. “When Father gave this to me, he said that it was merely a consequence of my own actions, and that in that sense it was my own doing. But I know better than that. It wasn’t my fault.“

And then, something happened.

Zuko’s mask fell. Not the theatre mask that was hanging on his belt, but the mask he’d worn in place of his face for years. The one that Azula wasn’t sure could come off.

But in an instant, the creepy, uncanny smile of the Fire Prince vanished and was replaced by a scowl that seemed to reach into the depths of the soul, an expression of emotion that was actually real. It was visceral anger that felt right to look at on his features, if only for the fact that the brutality of the scar finally slotted into facial harmony. It was an expression that Azula had known on her brother as a child, when she’d stolen his snacks, or burnt his toys, or pushed him over, or anything of the sort. It was the kind of emotional reaction that was tended to with love and care by their mother, punished by their father, and suppressed by years of brainwashing. It was achingly familiar, and it somehow felt like home in a way that nothing had for years.

Azula’s breath was snatched away by the sight of her brother, her actual brother.

“It was yours.”

The anger was, as always, directed at her.

“You told Father about Ba Sing Se. You turned him against me, and you left me alone to deal with it. This is the result of your actions.”

And then almost as quickly as it had left, the mask reappeared. But something was… wrong with the way it was put back on. Like it had been dropped, and Azula could still see something shifting through the cracks. Beneath the horrid sterility of everything else.

“I’m not going to hold it against you, if you were worried about that,” Zuko offered, unconvincingly. “I know you weren’t thinking about what would happen to me when you angered Father on the Eclipse.”

His eyes narrowed. “No, you weren’t thinking about me at all.”

Azula had no words to defend herself with. She was still stunned, and couldn’t bring herself to even so much as move. Her brother unhooked the theatre mask from his belt, and moved to put it back on.

“That’s why you’ll never be Firelord, Lala,” Zuko concluded, matter-of-fairly. “You don’t think ahead. You don’t think about anyone else, either. It’s all about you in your little world, and when you ruin lives, you leave, and never look back.”

Then he leant in, until his mouth was only a finger’s width away from her ear.

“Mom would be proud.”

Somehow, the very words she’d wanted to hear her whole life were twisted into something that cut into her with the same pain as a small knife to the abdomen.

For once in her life, Azula couldn’t even think straight. Her brilliant mind conjured blank after blank.

She didn’t even notice she’d been kicked until the balloon disappeared from beneath her and she was falling, falling endlessly through the clouds.

She hit something with a softer impact than should have been possible from that height. Her vision swam as the clouds continued to rush around her, as if she was still falling.

“Are you okay?” A young boy’s voice. There was a face and a name that she couldn’t place in the moment.

“She’s fine. She’s still breathing, right?” Snarkier, female.

“She’s clearly not okay.” A third, male, older. “She looks like she’s in shock. And she hasn’t insulted us yet.”

“With any luck, it’s permanent.” The second one again.

“Katara!” Number three. Number two was Katara.

Her senses began to come to her, and Azula wiped away a traitorous tear that she hadn’t realised she’d shed.

“Are you alright? Did you get hurt?” The Avatar. Aang. He was looking at her with big eyes. He’d given her the opportunity to leave with them, he’d been right, and he wasn’t rubbing it in her face. He was never going to.

Azula shook her head, numbness starting to give way to a self-inflicted rage at the next few tears to desert her eyes.

“My brother,” was all she managed to say.

———

and then I remembered my exams are the day after tomorrow and stopped there. 2698 words

sketched the version of this scene that would likely happen in my roleswap au... info about au under the tag if you wanna check it out

love drawing poster things for me and my friend's aus

have not watched legend of Korra and in deciding whether and when i want to, i have compiled a list of pros and cons of watching it:

pros:

Korra <33

more official Avatar universe content

expansion on lore and worldbuilding mechanics

Varrick and Zhu Li

A cast of new and silly characters to get attached to

The revival of the Air Nomads

The older Gaang and their children

DILF ZUKO

cons:

the concept of the Industrial Revolution and sudden change on a global scale is deeply frightening to me. watching humanity evolve from fighting with clubs and swords to driving cars and listening to the radio within the span of a lifetime gives me chills down the spine, especially when part of the first series’ appeal was the fantasy setting of the past, a time when things were simpler and the ignorance of the world made things appear more magical. but suddenly the old ways of the world being overturned as machines replace magic and machines replace people and individual culture is diluted as borders are broken down and larger societal structures are established and communication improves until everyone is irrevocably connected for better or worse and suddenly this large and fascinating world is small and understood and plain and we can never go back because we’ve opened a box that cannot be closed because ignorance is bliss but wilful ignorance is shameful? the jarring experience of watching characters move further away from the world they knew into a world that only looks more and more familiar to the viewer. the knowledge of where this leads, and the use of fantasy as escapism being invaded by the cold truth of reality. Korra being a natural fighter in a world that needs a diplomat, only one cycle too late for the world that needed a fighter. born too late for her time. every single moment we make decisions that cannot be undone, that will leave a mark on our world and on time forever and ever. it happens whether i start watching it or not, but it doesn’t happen until i begin watching. I’d say that I might be happier living in such a time myself, but the truth is that modernity and convenience has poisoned me and I wouldn’t last a day. The other truth is that we hold onto the good memories of the past and find it easier to discard the others, and as such everything will be tinted in rose coloured glasses forever and the past will always be painted with the pretty certainty that it all ends well, which is more than what we can say for the future, or even the present. Do we really miss the 2000s, the 1980s, any decade as you would have it, or do we miss being small enough to be carried by our parents into our bedroom when we pretended to be asleep, comforted by their embrace and with the knowledge that they were definitive rocks of strength in our lives, before we grew old enough to realise their own fears, weaknesses, and humanity? Was it the way old classrooms were decorated, was it the trends and music of the time that made the past better or was it that we only heard terrible news from the radio or the television and had the privilege to simply turn it off? Was it the bliss of the time or, again, the bliss of ignorance? What are we losing right now that we aren’t even aware of? What won’t we miss until it’s gone? What happened to Suki? What happened to the world?

All in all, I’m currently undecided, although from the various clips and edits I have seen scrolling TikToks, both Korra and older Zuko are making strong cases.

(Don’t take this too seriously lol)

hair holds memories

little doodle i did inspired by @strifentines ‘s super cool Zuko-Azula roleswap AU!! the idea is super cool and her art is totally silly you should all go check it out

there is something rotten in the state of denmark

here’s how one of the ways I would costume Hamlet if I were to direct Hamlet in my own stage play. i have lengthy paragraphs on every choice made here if anyone wants to hear about them.

thinking about how avatar legends implies that Lu Ten was on his way to figuring out that the Fire Nation were the bad guys pre unfortunate demise, so naturally here’s an AU where Lu Ten gets it together sometime before he dies during the siege of Ba Sing Se, does something about it, consequently survives, and how it would affect the rest of the world.

Lu Ten had always been a people person, a skill which served him well as the future crown prince and made him a favourite in the court, and a skill that led to him realising that the way that the Fire Nation treated other people as a whole was not something he could stand to be a part of anymore. He’d always been sheltered from the brunt of it, he suspected in part due to his duty as a prince not being one that involves seeing the worst of what your nation has to offer, and just as equally due to his own father trying to preserve his innocence at best, and trying to deliberately avoid sparking his natural curiosity at worst. He’d worked his way up in the military by his own hand as a result, in order to get his answers on the frontlines himself- and what he’d found wasn’t pretty. The Siege of Ba Sing Se has torn families apart, seen cultural history razed to ashes, and has in no way done anything to spread the peace and prosperity of his nation with the innocent people of the Earth Kingdom. It had confirmed all his worst fears about the Fire Nation, and about his own father. Lu Ten knew there was truth to be found, and truth he did find- a truth he could not stand by and idly ignore.

And so Lu Ten challenged his father, on the five hundred and fiftieth day of the siege. It was not a rallying call for action, or a public spectacle, rather a series of raised concerns in the enclosed space of a tented war meeting. But it was a challenge in the eyes of the seated officers, it was a challenge by Fire Nation law- he had undermined his own father’s authority, challenged his honour, and there was only one way to settle these sorts of things. If Iroh wanted to keep the respect of his men, he would have to fight his own son, and win, in Agni Kai.

Neither of them wanted this. Iroh offered Lu Ten the first strike. Lu Ten refused, and when Iroh persisted, refused to fight at all. Although Lu Ten would not surrender, it would be the easiest victory in Fire Nation history.

Iroh could not bring himself to harm his son, but if he let Lu Ten go without any punishment, he would lose the respect of his men. He asked, then commanded Lu Ten to surrender, to accept that his father was right. But Lu Ten simply refused, over and over. An hour went by without a single flame. Eventually, Iroh realised that even in stalling, he was losing. He did not like what he had to do, but his son was grown. He had forced his hand, and he could not be allowed to think that he was exempt from his duty as a citizen due to his status.

Iroh sent out a burst of flame. It would have been ridiculously easy to avoid, or to block, and then Lu Ten would have fought back enough for his defeat to not ridicule Iroh.

But Lu Ten simply let it wash over him, let it touch upon and burn his skin. It hurt, but it reinforced a further truth within his mind- his father would choose his nation over his own son. That was the last thing he’d needed to know.

Iroh was able to call a defeat there and then, a punishment enacted, a warning that Lu Ten would be further reprimanded later. But when he reached his son’s tent hours after, he found it only empty- of both the firebender and his belongings. Lu Ten had disappeared, and as the next morning made evidently clear, deserted.

…

Only days later, Iroh returned to the Fire Nation in disgrace. The Siege of Ba Sing Se had been on a downwards slide, but the Agni Kai had damaged morale, and had publicly humiliated the Dragon of the West, causing the Fire Lord to order a strategic retreat. The once-great General had been made an example of by his traitorous son, and had brought shame upon their entire bloodline as a result.

When Iroh’s younger brother suggested a change in the order of succession not long after, Fire Lord Azulon was a little more open to the possibility. Ozai was made the Crown Prince, and Ursa was there to see it. Iroh did not grieve his son, nor chase him over the world in a spiritually enlightening journey of self-discovery. Instead, he closed off and hardened up after his failure, much to the dismay of Ursa and the young prince Zuko.

Lu Ten became the Fire Nation’s most wanted criminal, but seemed to disappear off the face of the planet entirely. No one could catch him, no one could ever seem to see him. Some joked he’d gone and found the Avatar. But it was made clear that he no longer had a home to return to.

…

Sozin’s Comet was close approaching, and it was time for a new era. A new Fire Lord was crowned, after the old one perished peacefully in his sleep. The Fire Lady went missing, although not many noticed, as she’d appeared in the public eye less and less.

The new crown prince of the Fire Nation found himself in a war meeting, and as some things never change, was unable to stop himself from standing up for what he believed in.

Zuko consequently found himself in an Agni Kai arena, facing his father. Under different circumstances this might have gone some other way, but Zuko had heard about his cousin. He’d heard what had happened, how even though his father had tried not to hurt him, he’d come away burned, disgraced, and had almost toppled the entire royal family as a result. He’d heard how Lu Ten had refused to fight, and how his own nation wanted him dead for it.

Zuko knew he was not as widely beloved as Lu Ten, and he knew that his father was not afraid to hurt him, not if it taught him a lesson. So even though everything inside him screamed this is wrong, this is cruel, this is unfair, don’t fight him, don’t let yourself become a part of this, Zuko did not back down. He knew that his father could not and did not expect him to win. He knew that his father wanted to publicly demonstrate that his will as the Fire Lord was correct, and as such, he would receive the least punishment if he helped to show this. Defeating a child who did not fight- that was not a display of strength. Zuko was expected to fight for his honour, and he was expected to lose, but the honour was in the act of fighting, not winning.

Zuko rose, and accepted his opponent. He swallowed his every instinct, and took the first strike, a weak and pitiful thing. Zuko fought, and some part deep within himself was irrevocably changed as a result.

He lost, but his father did not banish him, did not brand him. He was dishonoured, but he was allowed to stay, allowed to learn from his ‘mistake’ in the sanctity of the palace walls, surrounded by tutors and teachers appointed by the Fire Lord.

Zuko did in fact learn something. He learnt to sit down, and shut up.

It didn’t matter what he thought. He was too young to understand the scale that the Fire Nation operated at, too inexperienced to understand the weight of the sacrifices his people made for him. And he was clearly alone in whatever he’d thought before, as no one had stood up for him in the arena, no one had offered to take his place, or spoken up for him. That was just how things were done, and Zuko was alone.

His father had been angry with him after the battle: not that he’d fought, but that he’d fought weakly. That was going to have to be the first thing remedied. If Zuko were to be the crown prince, it would not do to have Agni’s chosen be outshined by even his own younger sister.

His mother was not there to protect him. His uncle was busy with his own things. His cousin had left him, had run away, never to return.

The new firebending teachers were ruthless, painful, and effective. If he disappointed them even slightly, the price to pay was high.

Zuko learnt how to suppress his emotions, and in turn, himself. It worked.

…

Lu Ten had learnt how to fend for himself during his time in the military, and had been able to live off the land, travelling from Earth Kingdom village to village for the better part of three years, before he heard of the Avatar’s re-emergence.

Wasn’t that something.

He’d spent much of his time helping people, both through hands on work that his youth, strength, and fitness allowed him to take on beyond most people in needs’ own capabilities, and through very small scale political and charity work where his charm managed to set things right. Nothing that could draw too much attention to himself though, as he knew the bounty on his head was high. He’d been working his way down through the continent, and had managed to avoid any dangerous confrontation with his homeland so far.

Then the Avatar arrived, and Lu Ten was no longer the Fire Nation’s most wanted. Lu Ten himself was greatly pleased at the news, and hoped that it might herald the end of the war. He also hoped to one day meet the spirit, but had no plans of his own to seek him out.

That was, until he heard the word of his capture, by none other than the newly-promoted Admiral Zhao. The Avatar had been apprehended, and was being held in Pohuai Stronghold.

Pohuai Stronghold? That’s not too far from here.

And so it happened that armed with a single sword, an Earth Kingdom theatre mask he’d spontaneously picked up from a street vendor after being reminded of a game his young cousins used to play that involved sneaking around (Zuko, although you’d probably disagree with me for doing this, this one’s for you), and a dream, the former prince of the Fire Nation met the Avatar in the highest cell of the fortress, and then again properly after a successful escape.

…

“Ha. Azula, come have a look at this.”

His sister walked up to him and snatched the letter out of his hands. “This is a correspondence from Admiral Zhao saying that the Avatar is no longer in holding at Pohuai Stronghold. What’s funny about that?”

“Read the details. He was broken out by a single man wearing a Dark Water Spirit mask. Can you imagine?”

Azula sighed. “I can, actually. That sounds like just the kind of stupid thing that you would do. In fact, if it weren’t impossible for you to have traveled that distance in the time since it happened, you would be my first suspect.”

He laughed again. “I’m flattered, although I’m not stupid enough to break into a highly armoured Fire Nation prison with only a sword.”

The eye roll of serious doubt he received in response was almost audible.

“I would have brought two swords.”

“Idiot.” Azula read the rest of the letter. “Either way, this isn’t something to laugh about. We’ve lost the Avatar, who if you’ve forgotten, could bring an end to our whole civilisation.”

That did sort of kill the mood a little bit. She was right, as always.

“… But it’s a little funny that it happened to Zhao, of all people.”

“That guy is such a kiss-ass.”

“Trying to get in the Fire Lord’s good graces when he can’t even defend a fortress from a single lowly peasant in a play-mask?”

“They’ll make anyone an admiral these days,” Zuko agreed, and they both smiled, united by their hatred of a common enemy.

There was a moment of quiet that followed, and they both took turns reading the letter again.

“I should hope our ground forces in the area are at least competent enough to find and apprehend the criminal shortly,” Azula decided.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we should push for an execution. It would send a message to those would-be ‘heroes’ looking to harbour the Avatar.”

Zuko sighed. “Probably for the best.”

…

this is only just the beginning. I have more planned. Lu Ten bonding with team Avatar, Iroh having a later-in-life come around to being wrong. Azula and Zuko being sent on missions together, and Zuko WILL be forcibly kidnapped, separated, and taken under someone’s wing whether he likes it or not (he won’t). Silly things happen, but at the end of the day, it’s all towards the same goal.

And even in this different universe, some things won’t change. And some things that seem to have changed already will right themselves with time.

onto shadow of kyoshi!! yun is back and I Don’t Know how to feel but on the other side this zoryu fella seems like a silly little guy

finally reading the kyoshi novels like a hundred pages in why is yun such a sweetie pie

now this was just cruel

finally reading the kyoshi novels like a hundred pages in why is yun such a sweetie pie

finally reading the kyoshi novels like a hundred pages in why is yun such a sweetie pie

finally reading the kyoshi novels like a hundred pages in why is yun such a sweetie pie

directors, i am begging you to let me play hamlet. you will unleash something so feral and trans

Ophelia

that’s a good question. first things first though you’re going to want to make sure he really did it though. murder is a pretty strong accusation to be throwing around without solid proof. especially if you’re planning to murder him back for it. don’t worry if it takes a bit of time to come across this evidence though, it’s more important that you really think about your decision and do things right than you act on your whims and do it quickly. presumably you’ve got the rest of your life to get revenge, and if you make sure to deeply consider the consequences and even if you have a bit of trouble deciding whether or not to act on it at all, no one will mind. in fact they’ll actually think you’re really cool and justified for thinking it through and you will be remembered as someone whose greatest strength was action taken with caution and forethought.

aside from that though, can’t offer any more advice. don’t drink and fence. behind curtains has been ranked among the likeliest places for danish kings to hide. and some completely, utterly, unrelated news: I hear a pretty good acting troupe is coming to town soon.

if you were to kill an uncle, how would you do it? not that i would ever do such a thing! not to my beloved uncle-father. but i'm curious. what's the best method to go about something such as this if you had a wicked uncle who had killed your father and married with your mother? hypothetically.

Ghost dad ghost dad ghost d

Atla AU where during the Eclipse, Zuko confronts his father, and Ozai is shocked when he discovers that his son can redirect lightning.

… that is to say, when Zuko receives the lightning thrown at him and is momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer amount of power rushing through his body, he’s not thinking as much about where he’s aiming his redirection than he maybe should have been, and his father receives a shot-to-kill lightning bolt directly to the chest. Fatally.

Zuko comes to his senses and is left alone in a room with a body, and a terrible feeling in his stomach.

To his surprise, when the eclipse ends, the doors open, and the guards rush in, he’s not immediately exiled, or executed, or even imprisoned. He’s simply met with mouths agape and the sort of silence you’d expect when the fate of a nation hangs in the balance. He’s taken to a quiet room while the Fire Sages examine the crime scene to determine what the will of the spirits is, and then brought out again to face them when they’ve made their decision.

Any member of the Royal Family can challenge for the right to rule via Agni Kai. Zuko challenged his father, and although it was not a match in the traditional sense, it was only fair for him to do so after his father’s disrespect of the ‘traditional sense’ in enacting Agni Kai three years ago; and won. The Fire Sages announce that by the Spirits’ decree, he is the rightful Firelord.

Zuko does not tell them what happened, nor correct them when they make the assumption that he has mastered the cold-blooded fire and shot lighting as an attack on his father and an attempt to gain the throne for himself. He stays silent, he does not speak up when they talk politics, he does not protest in the slightest. All he feels is a numbed fear of what this means, what this means for him, but more importantly, what this means for the war. It was not his destiny to defeat the Fire Lord. His father taken down by another member the royal family is expected at best, a cause for martyrdom at the worst- but it is not a victory for the Avatar. It is not in itself something that will bring the end of the Fire Nation’s conquest, and Zuko knows enough politics to know that he is trapped. If the Avatar had taken out the Fire Lord, there would be hope in the other nations, and there would be doubt within his own nation, enough so that altogether they could be steered back onto the right path, but that didn’t happen. With him on the throne now, he is trapped in rooms with admirals and generals and bloodthirsty tyrants who would be more than happy to figurehead him while they carry out their own sick ideas, or who would see him fall for what he did to their old and more respected head of state. They do not respect him, for his age, for his inexperience, for his disrespect. He cannot speak out, he is in no position to instigate real change.

He knows he cannot abdicate the throne either, because however bad he has it, his sister in his position would solve nothing. Even if she thinks she is, she’s not ready to be the Fire Lord, and obviously she has wildly different ideas of what makes a good leader to him. He can’t find his uncle, let alone face him this way.

And also because for the war to end, the Avatar has to defeat the Fire Lord. If Azula were on the throne, Zuko has no doubt that this ‘defeat’ would be in the same vein as what would have been Ozai’s.

He doesn’t know what it means for him. He has an idea, and it’s not like it’s much better, but if he can spare anyone else from what’s coming, it’s the least he can do, maybe the only thing he can do to try, right?

.

A funeral is held for his father. The Fire Sages announce to the nation what the spirits have made of his death, and proudly crown Zuko the new Fire Lord. They proclaim that it is a good omen for their nation, a sign of their just cause to have such a strong leader come and enact justice in order to claim the throne and lead their nation to victory.

Agni guided his hand, they say, and with it, the start of a prosperous new era. Long live Fire Lord Zuko!

The citizens of his nation accept him readily, and there is a terrible feeling in his stomach.

.

“Why is everyone wearing white?”

Sokka poked a finger at one of the locals, less inconspicuously than he might have thought. “I thought red was supposed to be these people’s colour. We look out of place.”

“Haven’t you heard?” The merchant at the stall over thumbed out a pamphlet, and handed it, unfortunately enough, to the one of them that couldn’t read. “We’re in mourning. You two should be in mourning too.”

Sokka tried not to be too indignant at the man’s eavesdropping, but he supposed information was information. And this seemed like pretty important information. “Okay, well, who died?”

“Who died? Have you been under a rock?” At that, Toph smirked, but Sokka was too concerned with this sudden news to bring up the semantics of the Western Air Temple.

“Just tell me!” Sokka felt a piece of paper in his hand, as Toph had finally decided to relinquish her useless bounty. Sokka whipped it up to read, and his eyes caught on the words the exact moment the merchant clarified-

“Fire Lord Ozai?!”

This was unbelievable. This was completely insane. This was…

Sokka knew that this should have been good news, but all he felt was a horrible, terrible, growing sense of dread in his stomach. Beside him, Toph had stopped moving, and Sokka knew she was listening very intently for something.

“It’s true,” she helpfully confirmed. Even she couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“He was killed during the Day of the Black Sun,” the merchant went on. “Not by the invading forces, but within the sanctity of the palace walls themselves.”

The pit in Sokka’s stomach grew larger.

“It was lightning that defeated him. He was struck down, they say, in Agni Kai. Defeated by his son, and successor.”

This was bad. This was very bad.

“So that means…” Sokka’s gut had figured it out, but his brain was still putting the pieces together.

“We have a new Fire Lord, one who inspires us, one who gives us hope that we will end this war victorious.”

“Zuko.” Toph stated bluntly, without a hint of readable emotion in her voice.

Sokka corrected her. “Fire Lord Zuko.”

Crackfic Idea:

30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.

Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.

ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!

AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?

ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?

AANG: Um... this is the-

SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!

KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.

ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.

AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!

ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...

AANG: Well, I-

SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!

Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.

ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?

IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.

ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...

IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.

ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.

IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.

The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.

SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.

ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.

SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.

As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.

Hamlet but it's merely the C-plot of a sitcom happening in Elsinore Castle.

please this is so funny

i feel like there's something really poetic about how after losing their father, Laertes and Ophelia have these polar opposite reactions. Ophelia goes mad with grief, and drifts around the court talking nonsense to herself, until it eventually leads her to inadvertently walk right to her death. Laertes is seized with rage and insistent on getting his revenge, and ends up willing to commit treacheries that get multiple people and himself killed.

Hamlet does both. They are the two extremes of his emotional state, personified as his former lover and friend.

made this as part of a tiktok trend thing a few months ago but never ended up posting it on there because I didn’t think anyone would actually get to see it (i do not hamlet post obsessively on tiktok only here)

perhaps someone here might enjoy it more