fearbend

[fearbend]

hiiii i've been over on @cleameur. caught the c.oe33 hyperfixation i fear!!

[fearbend]

hiiii i've been over on @cleameur. caught the c.oe33 hyperfixation i fear!!

[fearbend]

hiiii i've been over on @cleameur. caught the c.oe33 hyperfixation i fear!!

[fearbend]

hiiii i've been over on @cleameur. caught the c.oe33 hyperfixation i fear!!

[fearbend]

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER 3.16 / 3.20

[fearbend]

IT’S COMFORTINGLY FAMILIAR, reflexive even, as habitual as breathing. this back and forth of theirs, an age-old stalemate that feels like a return to form, with neither conceding any ground. some infantile, vicious type of urge whispers in her ear: FIND THE WEAKNESS. PRESS IT. PROBE IT. a dull, serrated blade buried to the hilt in his soft tissue, fingers rubbing salt in the fresh wound. it purrs with satisfaction at the first signs of his anger, hungry animal that it is, as though it’s just found its mark after a long-drawn hunt, baring it to the air for her scrutiny. and so she watches, smiling that awful rictus grin, sharp enough to cut glass. as always, zuko’s routine is tired. he hems and haws, wearing his mantle of morality, all self-righteous drivel and fanciful imaginings wrapped in a near-perfect pantomime of brotherly care. but she peeks through the scant spaces of his charade, seeing him for what he really is. TRAITOR. MUTINEER. FRAUD. no amount of posturing is going to change that. it’s easy enough to reduce him to his basest instincts. to coax his schoolboy temper into kindling itself like a tinderbox. hot oil on an open flame. yes, the rage is more palatable, something she understands, knows intimately. far preferable to this inane appeal at her supposed sentimentality.

❝ oh, zuzu. still so naive. ❞ she gives a long-suffering sigh, voice dripping with notes of mock pity. ❝ i realize you’ve never had much experience in the ways of political intrigue, but do try to use those newly-minted fire lord credentials and think logically for once. ❞ the height of disrespect, potent as can be. ever the instigator, she plays on his insecurities, undermining his authority again and again. but what else does he expect? that’s what he gets for making himself so readily susceptible to her exploits, every single one of his failings ripe for the picking like an exposed nerve. ❝ tell me, when have you known our father to be merciful? does he strike you as someone who would leave loose ends unaccounted for? ❞ the doublespeak is purposeful, her insinuation anything but subtle. ❝ a banished witness can still talk. and unfortunately for her, our dear mother had been privy to some less than… savoury palace affairs. ❞ a dormant, half-forgotten memory flutters to the surface, forcibly exhumed from where it was left to languish, condemned to disrepair, roaming the shadowed halls of her youth with only hurt and misery for company. its haggard ghost tears through the rusted hinges without difficulty, revealing the annals of a buried history. something tainted, caked with rot. hushed ploys for power in the dead of night. hurried goodbyes never meant for her. their father rising to the highest rank imaginable come morning, his ascension not in the least soured by the tragic yet undeniably advantageous passing of their poor, old grandfather. an open secret steeped in blood, like so much of their past.

❝ the point is that she was a threat to his rule. one i have no doubt he would have removed discreetly at the first opportunity. wipe the slate clean, if you will. ❞ the words taste ashen in her mouth, squeezing her insides every which way for reasons she doesn’t care to investigate. keen to stifle the discomfort, she aims for aloofness, from the upturned tilt of her chin to the bored, haughty drawl, any scraps of emotion pushed out of sight with an expert hand. IGNORANCE BY DEFLECTION. a calculated retreat to safer waters, lest that heavy thickness in her throat choke her from within. the story she spins is a bluff at best, cruel conjectures cobbled together to create a believable enough narrative. in truth, azula knows nothing of their mother’s whereabouts, never dared ask for fear of garnering undue scorn or disapproval in those early years after her disappearance. still, the lies come naturally, finding their bleeding heart of a target despite the strained veracity. anything to inflict pain whichever chance she gets, to take zuko’s proverbial olive branch and set it ablaze, letting it go up in smoke with the last tattered shreds of his resolve. ❝ ⎯ such a shame. i was so looking forward to a big, happy family reunion. ❞

[ AND WHY SHOULD I CARE ? / @fearbend ]

ONE COULD CALL IT IRONIC, HE THINKS, that he has tempered his fire for the sake of his nation, learned to control the flames before they rise and consume all rational thought — it isn't an easy process, and he slips up more times than he'd care to admit, especially when long council meetings bleed into fire lord obligations and his fuse gets cut ever shorter. one could call it ironic that all it takes is one expertly-placed match lit by his sister to set aflame all of his hard-earned progress, reverting back to ingrained habits of defence and deflection : she reduces him to a child in her presence, and that is a deep-seated hatred he can't shake.

❛ because she's your mother too, azula ! ❜ the heat in his voice is unmistakable, anger burrowing into every syllable, into every rigid movement punctuating his words [ firebending is prohibited within the facility for good reason, but how hands itch to carve familiar patterns in the air, to reassemble the world into something recognisable ], ❛ you have to care about that. ❜ the crack in speech only serves to infuse cheeks a deeper red, emotions roiling beneath skin that would burn to the touch, ❛ please ❜ there's a desperate edge to tone, an abrupt change in tactic as he feels his one opportunity slipping through his fingers, ❛ i need your help. ❜

[fearbend]

so i know i disappeared from here again but i’ve been dealing with A LOT to say the least... my budgie’s wing tumour recently returned after it was surgically removed only two months ago. unfortunately, the only option left was having his wing amputated. this was an incredibly hard decision to make, given all of my birds have always been fully flighted and spend majority of their time outside the cage. however after careful consideration and speaking to our avian vet extensively, we agreed that the amputation would give him the best chance at living cancer-free, without affecting his quality of life. bo ended up going into surgery yesterday afternoon and the operation was successful which is such a relief, especially accounting for the added risks that came with his age (he’s 7yo). my little guy is so brave!! he’ll be staying at the vets for the next week so they can monitor him and make sure he recovers well.

obviously losing a limb and becoming flightless will be a huge adjustment so i’m currently working on preparing his new setup ahead of his eventual discharge. activity will likely be minimal to none for the next few weeks so please bear with me while i try to navigate this incredibly stressful time <3

[fearbend]

—Tamara Panici, from I Do Not Want To Say This Country is Not My Home

[fearbend]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa you're back !!! i can finally fangirl over you once more 😩 💜

AHHH STOP!!!!! this is so sweet and unexpected omg??? i’ve been admiring you and your blog for sooo long bunnie, you have no idea!! looking forward to some ahri/azula shenanigans <333

[fearbend]

A FOREBODING CALM settles over her shoulders, the heady drumbeat of her would-be victory all but splitting the air. ❝ no? you could have fooled me. ❞ there’s an inevitability to how she carries herself, nary a crack in her voice, this keen, battle-ready focus melding together with her regal gravitas in a way that could set anyone’s hairs on end. it’s a familiar scene ⎯ princess azula, at a thousandfold advantage, looming over her enemies with the knowledge that she could thwart them where they stand, reducing them to ashes without a moment’s notice. and what of her opponent? nothing but empty boasts of courage, the same old beatings of heroes past. she’s heard them all before. as if any amount of bravado could stop their headfirst march towards certain doom or bring value to their already miserable existence. no, these misguided notions are just that: measly, little scraps of hope people like this hold onto, willing to risk life and limb on the off-chance they’ll emerge triumphant. even when they’re all but teetering at the precipice of their own demise, danger chasing close to their heels and the promise of defeat staring them right in the face. such a tragic, foolish hill to die on, but it cannot be helped, she supposes.

❝ so what now? what is this grand plan of yours, really? ❞ she slinks forward, smug as can be, lips curled into a practiced smile. ❝ are you going to fight me? take me down? i’d love to see you try. ❞ the unlikely prospect gives rise to a titter of laughter, mocking derision lanced throughout. cruelty for sport ⎯ it's what she does best. still, she presents the illusion of a fighting chance, bright and exploitable and so very futile, only to crumple it to the ground at the first opportunity. ❝ oh, and do try not to embarrass yourself. ❞

when she was still a child, her parents had told her stories about the royal family. tales of how they'd brought greatness and prosperity to the fire nation. all the things she'd also learned in school, and so she'd believed it, of course. ( there was no reason not to anyway. no way to refute these claims. ) but now, after traveling the world and seeing all the pain and destruction caused during the war, she doesn't trust the lies any longer. when she was still a child, she would've been proud to come face-to-face with the princess of the fire nation. to get to meet any member of the royal family, really. now it's not an honor, though, it's a threat. ❛ i'm not scared of you. ❜ defiance. she shows no fear, only determination. despite the fact she knows she's far weaker and less skilled than azula ― but yumi has always been good at pretending.

@fearbend / starter call.

[fearbend]

if you don't terrify people a little bit then what's the point

[fearbend]

azula in every episode: 1.20 | The Siege of the North Pt. 2

[fearbend]

so many facades. you lost track of which one is you. maybe none of them are. maybe you never were.

[fearbend]

Elektra, Euripides

[fearbend]

❝ your lack of self-awareness is as astounding as ever, avatar. ❞ always on the offensive, she snarks at the not-so novel idea, downturned lips letting out a sharp exhale of vexation. ❝ really, i’m surprised you had the time to notice, what with all the incessant ruckus you and your pets have been causing. ❞ her stern gaze cuts to the side, peering over aang’s shoulder at the gaggle of animals he insists on keeping in tow, neither of which she’s bothered to learn the names of. between the sky bison’s constant bellows and that rat-looking thing’s cacophonous squawks, her nerves have gotten dangerously close to snapping and the sight of them only serves to further sour her mood. is a single moment of reprieve too much to ask for?

❝ the way i see it, i’m simply returning the favour. ❞ a glacial smile bleeding at the edges, her voice swelling with barely concealed disdain. if tossing a wrench in their fun is what it takes to end these nauseating antics, then so be it.

expression twists to one of annoyance for but a brief moment , quickly replaced by the avatar's practiced mask of calm neutrality bordering on benevolence.         ❝ ya know , it really is a beautiful day to not be a jerk. ❞    the implication of the look that follows practically screams in the silence : you should try it sometime , azula.

@fearbend    ❤ ’d

[fearbend]

little zuzu

[fearbend]

Seamus Heaney, The Burial at Thebes