Fic-to-Art #33: Princess Jing Azula meets Mari
All prompt suggestions for this month were great... but I can't lie about how hyped I felt when this was the one that happened to take the victory.
I admit, there's always been a part of me that didn't really enjoy a lot of the "aunt Azula" or "uncle Sokka" content I saw in fandom, since it often felt like their personal lives were constantly sidelined so they could be the supporting characters to their siblings' very fulfilling families (while they often didn't get to have one of their own, and a thousand excuses were given for that, but ultimately it just felt like they'd be playing second fiddle to Zuko and Katara respectively).
I don't really feel that way about it in my own story for obvious reasons -- clearly, the story could not be more Azula and Sokka-centric if it tried :') therefore, their dynamics with their respective siblings, and their siblings' families, never really have cut across their own possibilities, whether to have families of their own or to exist for a bigger purpose besides just supporting everyone else around them.
Hence, the bond between Azula and Mari (and Sokka and Mari) have become quite valuable to me, especially after Sokka turned Azula into Mari's hero without Mari's awareness, through his stories about Princess Jing. With said stories, Sokka helped Mari accept her own firebending, and along with that, helped her learn who her aunt was long before she even met her. She won't actually learn that Azula is Princess Jing right away... but it will be thrilling for her to finally see blue fire directly, as portrayed above, and to meet a female firebender who can inspire her to shoot for the stars if she wants to.
As for everything else in this scene, weeeell... there's at least two important spoilers here that I suppose you guys might be happy to see :'D One might barely be a spoiler at this point. The other definitely is one because I'd constantly kept her role in the story hidden and secret, mostly because no one knew she was reeeally coming back, or in what capacity she would do that. You still barely know how she's ever going to wind up in the South Pole to witness Azula meeting Mari, worth noting :'D but now you know she will be there, nonetheless...
At any rate, hope you liked this piece! If you want to see its spiritual sequel, feel free to go right back to Fic-to-Art #9! And if you would like to participate in the creation of these pieces or just read Gladiator snippets 6 days before the chapter releases, support me on Patreon!
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"aphobia doesn't exist"
bitch literally not that long ago an aroace youtuber animator was insulted by almost half of its community for being it
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hey guys 🤲 spare nille thoughts? s’il vous plaît???
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I wish I could tell the original artist that this drawing permanently changed the entire direction of my life in 2009. I want to shake their hand, look them in the eye, and admit I would not be who I am today if this drawing didn’t exist.
EDIT: Original artist is @ivynajspyder !!!!
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actually I love Tentoo and he is the Doctor and it was the only ending for Rose that worked and it is a huge gift to be able to have the man she loves grow old with her, they were always heading for that, y'all be quiet. I 100% understand the angst but it's okay, they're okay, good ending-
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Shut up she's doing her best and sometimes your best hurts.
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Books of 2024: THE GREAT CITIES DUOLOGY by N. K. Jemisin.
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These two lines in the movie make me the most mentally unwell.
"I should have been the one to go. You needed your mother more than you needed me."
The amount of layers to this, oh my god. He's blaming himself for being alive. He probably wants to die. He genuinely thinks Adrian needs Emilie more.
And it's been YEARS since Emilie's passed away. Look how tiny Adrian is over there, he only just about comes about the bedpost. Gabriel still looks like he did in the pictures of when Adrian was little. It's been literal years. It could have literally been a full decade ago.
And Gabriel breaks the narrative here. He's supposed to be telling a story, he's supposed to be saying what happened in the past. But at this point, he doesn't say "your mother was taken from us" or anything like that referencing Emilie's passing. The story breaks, he's using a statement. I should have been the one to go. It's completely out of the story, because he isn't saying what he felt then, there's no "I felt like I should have been the one to go". It's just "I should have been."
Because he still thinks this. It's been about a decade, and his opinion, his feelings about this, is still "I should have died". It interrupts his storytelling because of how strongly he feels this way, almost like it's a fact to him.
And then he follows it with "You needed your mother more than you needed me." Again, he says this like it's a fact, like Adrian actually did need his mother more. Because he believes it himself. And this could be because of so many things. It could be because of the way people consider the mother to be the one supposed to care for the children much more than the father, or it could be that Gabriel himself didn't see how much Adrian needed him, or even that Gabriel didn't see himself as useful to Adrian. Especially because he said he should have been the one to die. He's essentially saying he was useless. That he was expendable but Emilie wasn't. He literally is implying he doesn't see any worth in himself regarding being a father.
And then it's not just his grief, it's Adrian's grief that has him desperate to bring Emilie back. He literally doesn't care about himself, he wants his son to be happy and doesn't see himself as able to do that. He loves him to the point of being suicidal and self-sacrificing if it would give Adrian what he need, all while simultaneously not seeing himself as what Adrian needs because he doesn't think he has that much worth regarding him.
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Forgot to share here.... old doodles of when I finally came around to finding a design I like for Qalaari's mom !!
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man i'm on a roll tonight
DP x DC idea:
Bruce Wayne has somehow managed to become the unofficial guardian of at least two more kids. Maybe three. He's not sure yet. Various members of the Batfamily have made new friends recently and have been having them hang out at Wayne manor for extensive periods of time. Now only if he could actually meet the rascals face-to-face, maybe he could adopt them for real.
or
Danny, Elle, and Jazz have all made friends with different Wayne kids at different times from different places. Damian met Elle at school, Danny met Tim while working at a coffee shop, and Jazz met Cass outside the local theater. All three visit the manor separately, and no one communicates that they've befriended people from the same family. Eventually, however, their hangout sessions accidentally overlap and the Waynes have to deal with the excitement of three Fentons under a single roof.
Let's just say there's a reason the three of them live separately.
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KINCADE PACK 🐺 (original works) — “The name goes back centuries, and all Miranda cares about is making sure it lasts for many more”
[template by @tommyarashikage]
tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @simonxriley @voidika @kyberinfinitygems @voidbuggg @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @a-treides @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @leviiackrman @strangefable @jacobseed
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On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.
Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it
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Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.
I don't have external meltdowns.
I could. I don't let it happen.
I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.
So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.
She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.
Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].
It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.
They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.
I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.
I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.
I couldn't understand what made her like this.
But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.
If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.
And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*
And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?
My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.
Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???
And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.
I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*
She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.
I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.
So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.
But I told her hundreds of times.
I probably should have just screamed at her.
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Can we talk about The Dying Swan moment in Coda? As someone who was once a very serious ballerina, I need to talk about the Dying Swan. Here's your context --
CHAKOTAY: Harry's clarinet solo was okay. I could have done without Tuvok's reading of Vulcan poetry. But the highlight of the evening was definitely Kathryn Janeway portraying the Dying Swan.
JANEWAY: I learned that dance when I was six years old. I assure you, it was the hit of the Beginning Ballet class.
Have you seen The Dying Swan? It is dramatic.
Here, take a minute:
First of all, this dance is much too advanced for a six-year-old, even if they’re doing it in demi pointe. (Six-year-olds emphatically should not be in pointe shoes btw.) The dance is almost entirely bourees and arm movements done to very subtle musical cues, not the foundational ballet moves typically taught in Beginning Ballet.
This is a very vulnerable, dramatic dance that is effective because of its subtleties. The performer would need to embody that vulnerability in some way for a convincing performance. It's short, but it's a solo piece -- all eyes on you. I mean, it was choreographed for a prima ballerina, BUT THAT'S NOT MY POINT
Can you imagine our unflappable Captain Janeway willingly getting in front of her crew to do this ballet? I get that it’s thematically relevant to the plot of Coda, but since Janeway is only vulnerable in front of her crew when it means putting herself in harm’s way, it seems like a wild decision. She tends to hold herself apart from her crew, maintaining the professional distance of the captain. Further, when she does any creative pursuit, it is almost always in private, since her sister was the artist in the family and she was the scientist. As a captain, she commands Voyager in a much different way than she would as a dancer with this piece. I'm not saying she never shows vulnerability because she definitely does, but not necessarily in this way. Then when she talks about it with Chakotay, she just casually brushes it off with a laugh like no big deal.
There’s also the question of costume – would she have gone full tutu? Done it in her Starfleet uniform? An impeccable yet flow-y white suit? She does get into costume and command a performance in Bride of Chaotica!, but Coda is still kind of early days for our captain. Arachnia aligns more with what we know about Janeway's character.
Granted, it is Chakotay laying down these complements about her dancing ability and he is clearly biased. To be fair, Neelix does too before they leave in the shuttle. If she did this dance and performed it poorly or amazingly, I feel like the crew would look at her a bit differently afterwards.
Canonically she did The Dying Swan, but I certainly have trouble picturing it happening.
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one of my favorite senarios to imagine to put yukio in is sending him 10 years into the future (with the exwires usually) and everyone from their class are like chill adults including himself working their boring ass exorcist job and hes trying to assert dominance over them as the teacher™ but they're all like bro why so serious?
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sevchino req!!! wanna see protective arle to the children please,,,,,,father in action raahhhh
you and me BOTH anon 🥺🥺🥺 ......................
protective || sevchino
cw. none (?)
notes. yeah i like bullying pantalone (and not in a fun way like a bully rahu). sue me. also super self indulgent with no consistent pov dshjjdfhk
"My, my. What's a little girl like you doing in a place like this, hm?"
Estelle hugs the little bear closer to her chest. Her father had told her to stay in the office, but she was taking so long, and it was starting to get lonely...
She lifts her eyes up from the ground to look at the man crouched before her. He has long, dark hair that reminds her of her father's with how soft it looks. He has a polite smile on his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. And his eyes—something about them made her nervous.
"I'm here with my father," she answers quietly, squeezing her toy. "I was supposed to stay in the office, but..."
The man clicks his tongue. "Tsk. Poor little thing, did your father leave you behind?"
Estelle bites her lip. Should she answer him? Father always told her not to speak with strangers, but it's been so long, and she wants to go home. She knows she'd begged her father to let her tag along, but now, all she wants to do is go home to her mother and Noé.
So she nods, looking back down at the ground. The man sighs, and rises back to his full height. He's tall, towering over her, and the way the lights backlight his form makes Estelle reflexively take a step back. He looks down at her down the bridge of his nose, the silver rim of his glasses glinting.
"Then how about I help you find her, hm?" he asks. "I think I know exactly who your father is."
Despite her apprehension, Estelle brightens. "Really?"
"Really," he nods. His white cloak parts, and he extends a gloved hand to her. But before he can take her smaller hand in his own, an arc of pure, blistering flame snakes around the girls feet, creating a protective, blazing wall. But around the girl, the fires cool, warm and comforting instead of threatening.
Footsteps echo like thunder down the hall, and the man tucks his hand back into his cloak, those dangerous eyes turning sharp, and a venomous grin creeping onto his face.
"We meet again, Knave," he sneers. Estelle turns, and standing behind her, expression twisted into a level of fury she's never seen before, is her father. A blood-red wing pulses over her left shoulder, flickering and shifting in the light. In her father's hand is a mean-looking red scythe, radiating a furious, hungry aura.
"Stay away from my daughter, Regrator," Arlecchino snarls, practically vibrating with rage. She keeps her eyes trained on the other Harbinger as she kneels down, and Estelle runs into her waiting arm. Pantalone watches it all with a deceptively placid smile.
"You know," he hums, "she has her eyes."
Arlecchino glares at him with enough fury to kill a normal man. But as much as she loathes the waste of breath before her, he is still a Harbinger, and Harbingers have always been far from normal.
"Do not speak of my wife," she says lowly, dangerously, cradling Estelle against her chest. Estelle tucks her head beneath her father's chin, one small hand winding tight in her father's jacket and the other clutching her bear plushie. The little thing's fur is slightly singed. Then, her father's gaze shifts from the man and to her, and her eyes soften. "Are you alright, starshine?"
Estelle nods, snuggling closer against her father's warmth. Arlecchino presses a soft kiss to her forehead, then turns back to Pantalone. She dispels her scythe, but it does not make her any less deadly. She considers, briefly, ripping the man before her to shreds; but Estelle takes priority, and she'd hate for her daughter to have to witness such violence, so she turns on her heel and walks away instead.
She will ensure the Regrator understands that her family is off limits in other ways.
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