ATTENTION PLEASE READ: This chapter contains descriptions of a toxic relationship, abuse, and violence. While it was a catharsis for me to write, it will be very difficult to read if you are/were a victim of abuse and have not processed your experiences. Proceed with caution.

For those surviving: You are NOT alone. It is NOT your fault. Just because there are good days, it does not mean that the bad days are not abuse.

(Anonymous) National Domestic Violence Support .org

CH 8 | Aang's Secret [Part 1]

Azula kept her tight grip on Aang's bicep until they reached an unlit alleyway far out of sight. Releasing him with a shove, she glared imperiously as he jammed his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes to the concrete. "It's funny, I don't remember giving you permission to play footsie with that little water tribe tramp." Aang's jaw clenched with anger, but his eyes remained downcast.

"Katara is Sokka's sister. A friend." he said quietly. Azula seized his jaw with force, slamming him against the rough brick behind him. "You're lucky you're cute, Aang. Any other man needing to be put in his place by me would have earned a severed spine by now." She smiled, pinching his jaw between sharp red nails and delivering a sharp slap to his cheek. "So let me be very clear when I say this: Stay. Away. From. Her. You still belong to me, until I say otherwise." Leaning in, Azula pressed her lips forcefully against his, beginning to unbutton his shirt only to earn a gust of air buffering her back from the angered air bender.

"Why are we still doing this?" he yelled, fists trembling at his sides. "You already get whatever you want out of this...arrangement. What's in it for you to pretend we're dating?"

The truth was far more complicated than Azula could put into words, and she wasn't in the business of truth-telling to begin with. Instead, she shrugged and said, "When I get a new toy, I like to play with it. Take off your shirt." "No. We aren't doing that again. Ever."

Aang made to leave only to receive a fire whip around the wrist. He growled as she burned into him. "What did you just say to me? No? You aren't in any position to tell ME no." she retorted. "I'm DONE with this, Azula." Aang spit through clenched teeth. "Go rub your mommy issues off on someone else, you fucking dumpster fire." She maintained her hold.

"I have a fun story." she whispered.

"Once upon a time the Fire Nation conquered the nomadic dissidents where the Avatar was born. Four temples full of air bending masters gave their lives to protect a little boy who they didn't know had already run away and left them to die." Aang swallowed hard, his insides already twisting, his wrist still burning.

"And for 100 years, the world thought that the Fire Nation successfully broke the Avatar cycle. After all, no one alive had ever seen him. He must have perished during the Nomad Raids...right? It would be CRAZY to think a person could hide, dormant, for that long and live to tell the tale... right?"

Azula paused for a victorious laugh as she observed Aang's shoulders depressing, capitulating.

"I wonder what daddy would think if he knew the Avatar was alive and well, living in plain view, in a fire nation colony no less! And I wonder what the world would think if they found out their precious Avatar gave up his spirits-ordained duties so he could ignore the starving poor and raise baby air bison, or whatever the hell it is you do in your major..." She placed a finger against her temple theatrically. "Oh, wow! I wonder what your little friends would think if they found out you're a coward still on the run after over a century?" then, barely audible,

"What would Katara think?"

Aang squeezed his eyes tight, knowing the answer before he asked the question.

"What do you want Azula?"

"You know what I want."

Aang swallowed hard and grabbed her whip, yanking her into his arms and severing her fire in a single motion. Pressing her gently against the wall, he brushed kisses along her jaw and circled long, graceful fingers around her waist. She was at least warm and soft enough that he could keep his eyes closed and pretend he was with someone else. He met her mouth sweetly and she met the side of his head with a sharp smack. "I don't want you to make love to me, idiot. Serve Me."

Unable to swallow, he instinctively tried to withdraw from her touch. Her fingertips burned and her scent, while not unappealing, was such a heady mixture of creosote and sage it made his nose ache. "Oh, spirits... are you going to cry?!" she laughed loudly when she noticed his wet eyes and trembling expression. Then Azula leaned in and hissed pure venom into his ear.

"Good. I like it when you cry."

His despair swallowed by anger, he slammed her harder against the bricks, making her gasp in surprise. Like an out-of-body experience, he focused on preventing himself from being fully present, shoving her skirt above her waist and yanking her panties away until they ripped completely. "Good Boy." she moaned, and she met his eyes, glowing slightly as he teetered on the edge of the Avatar State. "You can't make love to someone you hate" he whispered darkly and thrust into her without easement. She moaned again, and he buried himself into her neck, not wanting to see her face until it was over. "And I fucking hate you."

His admission nearly sent her over the edge, so she bit down into his shoulder to stifle her own noises. She tasted his blood in her mouth while attempting to maintain purchase, reveling in her power: an ethereal being with almost unlimited bending potential was her personal plaything.

She could end him on a whim.

She would wear him down until he couldn't smile that stupid crooked smile.

Break him like a wild horse in a bridle until he forgot what it meant to be the Avatar.

Until he served only Fire Nation.

Until he served only her.

"Say it again" she rasped languidly. "I. Hate. You." he hissed, and she came undone on him, gushing and shuddering. Once he sensed she had ridden her climax to completion, he dumped her unceremoniously off, seizing his jeans and redressing as quickly as possible. Maybe once he covered his skin, he could salvage some of his tattered dignity.

"You could have let yourself finish" she said with a strange softness, lighting a cigarette. "I didn't tell you not to." Aang ignored her and finished buttoning his shirt. "Anything else?" he asked, robotically. Azula took a long drag of her cigarette and then handed it to him.

"Yes."

He accepted the cigarette and stole a modest puff before handing it back to her.

"I want you to find out everything there is to know about Toph Beifong."