Princess' Shrink [Azula X reader]

Beat

"Azula," Y/n says as she enters the girl's bedroom through the secret tunnel. (Cough cough)

"Doctor," Azula replies with a smile.

"Let's make the same rule," Y/n starts. "You call me Y/n when we're alone."

"It's only fair,"

Y/n laughs at this. She walks over to the chair on the opposite side of the bedroom with her notebook and pencil in hand.

"Let's begin," She places herself down onto the chair. "I brought something."

Azula stares at the girl with interest. She sees Y/n bring out a golden hairbrush.

"Does this remind you of anything?"

"Do you have a passion for bringing random objects to your therapy sessions," Azula inquires. "First an apple, and now this?"

"I suppose I do," Y/n smiles. "Random objects usually bring up hidden memories. Do you have any hidden memories?"

"Revolving a hairbrush?" The girl scoffs.

"No? No memories at all?"

"I remember servants brushing my hair, nothing else."

That's a lie. We both know that Azula.

Azula closes her eyes in thought.

"I," Azula starts but hesitates. "I remember this one time during my psychological breakdown. I had a hallucination of my mother, right before my coronation."

Y/n nodded for the girl to continue, diligently taking notes down on her notebook.

"Ursa was there, talking about how much she loved me. It made me so angry. I threw my hairbrush at the mirror and shattered it. My knees still have scars from being cut by the pieces of glass."

"Why were you angry?" Y/n questions, looking up from her notebook. "Any reason specifically?"

"Because she doesn't love me," Azula answered quickly, no hesitation visible in her voice or demeanor.

"Do you truly believe that that was why you were angry?"

Azula looks at the doctor confused. "Of course, I do."

"This will be your next assignment," Y/n places her notebook down on her lap. "Find out what you're truly angry about."

"But this is what I'm angry about! I'm truly angry at her because she doesn't actually love me!"

"Let's move on to the next topic," Y/n puts a strand of hair behind her ear. "The painting on the wall. It seemed to affect you quite heavily."

"Of course, it did," Azula leans further back in her chair, frustrated at her therapist. "Generations of Firelords taken down because Zuko wanted a painting of his family up there. They may have been horrible people, but it's still the Firenation's history."

Y/n sighs and rests her head on her hand.

"This won't go anywhere if you keep denying the truth,"

"Then tell me what the truth is! You're the therapist! Shouldn't you know?!" A tear falls down the girl's face.

"I know," Y/n replies calmly, although that tear shatters her heart. "But my job is to make you realize what I know. You must find out yourself."

Azula places her hands on her hair and starts to pull.

"Don't do that,"

"I'll do what I want,"

Y/n stands up and walks over to Azula. She takes the other girl's hand and pulls it away from her hair.

The pair stare at each other, their hands tangled together. Azula's frustrations dissipate at the sight of Y/n's eyes, and so does Y/n's.

The two stares at each other a moment longer, neither of them letting go.

Beat.

Beat.

"I better get to my room," Y/n pulls her hand away from Azula's. "I need a good night sleep in order to focus in the morning."

Azula turns her head away from Y/n, a hint of red visible on the girl's face.