#i heart flutterbat..

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Embrace The Dark Shades Of Life

Summary: The Addams Family Adopts Azula

For @subterraneanwatcher who has good taste in characters and put this idea in my inbox

She doesn’t know where she is or how she got here, doesn’t remember. But the people welcome her so readily. They are a terribly strange bunch and they call themselves the Addams.

She meets Wednesday first. She’s cute enough to a person who finds flutterbats and the like cute and Aula supposes that she does…not that she has ever put much thought into that sort of thing. She certainly has more of a connection to those sinister beasts that make people scream. Wednesday is a smart girl—Azula can see the intelligence in her eyes. Her eyes had been the first thing that Azula had seen when she opened her own to take in this strange new world that she finds herself in. 

The girl had loomed over her. Poked at her, called to her brother to say that she had found a dead body.

Wednesday's brother, Pugsley, a plump boy with a bizarrely pleasant face. The boy has a cheerful nature to him that seems to contradict his macabre interests. The ones that his parents are more than happy to indulge. 

His parents are pleasantly strange themselves. There is the darkly charming Gomez with his well groomed mustache and his flowery speech. And there is the woman who introduces herself as Morticial. She is tall and sleek with an angular face and long dark hair. Her makeup is striking and dramatic. With a pang in her heart, Azula acknowledges that Morticia reminds her of a more morbid Mai.

The manor that the woman welcomes her into smells of expensive perfume–likely an iris and rose blend, velvet, old leather, dust, and oak wood. It is gloomy and richly furnished with things that Azula has never seen before. There is a chandelier with candles of glass that flicker like the real thing. There are lamps whose shades are made of lace and full of dust and webs. Upon the bookshelves, between ancient tomes, are jars of specimens such as detached tentacles and toad eyes as well as polished stones and bat and wolf bones. The wall is decorated with grim photos–black and white family portraits hang alongside paintings of burning bodies and skeletons wearing dark cloaks and holding scythes. The creaky halls are lined with full suits of armor in a style unlike anything in the four nations. They also keep instruments of torture and display them as plainly as a kitchen table or a sofa. Most of the sofas in this house have white sheets thrown over them despite being used often. 

The Addams are kind enough to her but the manor is terribly unsettling with all of its surprises—a detached and fully sentient hand and plants that may or may  not have an appetite for human flesh.

“Settle yourself in, darling.” Morticia says after the tour is through. But for as lovely as the woman is, Azula doesn’t think that she will be able to do so. Not with the floorboards groaning the way that they do and the tree branches that scrape like screeches against the windows. She nods regardless, “I’ll try…”

The woman offers a warm smile. “If there’s anything that I can do to make you more comfortable, don’t be shy about requests. Perhaps you would like a cup of tea or some warm milk. Pugsley does like his warm milk, especially when there's a fly or two floating in it!”

Azula crinkles her nose. 

“You don’t like flies in your drinks, dear?” 

Azula shakes her head. 

“Well that’s alright, we all have our own taste. More for Pugsley then.”  She pauses in the doorway. “Gradmama makes the richest teas. I will have Lurch bring you a cup.”

“Who is Lurch?”

“Our butler. He is the most polite gentleman that anyone could meet—so long as they don’t meet Gomez.”

The woman practically swoons over his name and Azula finds herself wishing that she could meet someone who would speak of her like that. 

“Have a gloomy night and dreams most dreary.”

Azula might have found herself offended had she not already taken a tour of the house. It is plenty clear that Morticia is bidding her the finest night of sleep that she could ever get. For all of the manor’s curious creaks and groans, the bed that she has been given is wonderfully plush. It smells a bit like stale perfume but the blankets are made out of fabrics just as fine as the ones that she had slept under in the palace. She swallows hard at the thought of home and the life that she used to know. The life that had slowly been slipping away from her anyhow. 

She does have dreams most dreary, but not the kind and elegant sort that Morticia had wished her.

.oOo.

Azula can’t say that she has quite settled into this new place just yet. Although Morticia and Gomez are going very far out of their way to make her feel welcomed. So far out of their way that they have asked her to draw her old room so that they can construct an exact likeness to it, assuring her that they are perfectly alright with her ‘eccentric’ tastes in furnishing. “I do love a cuddly dragon!” Gomez had remarked with such enthusiasm that she fully believed that they don’t mind her clashing taste at all. 

And while Morticia couldn’t find a single firelily seed to plant she had given a call to a cousin who had reached out to his fiance’s friend who is, from what Azula understands, “a biologist and a phenomenal bio engineer.” And this friend of a cousin will be working to alter the genes of a tiger lily to produce flames. 

She doesn’t have the heart to tell any of them that they have misunderstood what a fire lily is. She is also quite curious about what type of flower they will plant for her. 

Presently she stands in a garden that is mostly withered and wilting with overgrown grass and fountains that spray more moss than they do water. Smoke still trails off of her fingers from lightning discharged. 

“Wednesday, come look at this!” Pugsley calls. And to Azula he shouts. “Do it again!” 

“I am…” She reminds him, “...a princess.” She holds her head high. “Do not order me around or I will show you my lighting up close and personal. 

The boy seems to perk up. “Really!?”

Azula gives a stiff nod. “Yes, indeed. Which would be a shame because I like your parents.” So maybe she won’t fry the boy but she will surely shock him a good one. 

“Wednesday, she’s going to zap me!” He cries out.

And Azula cringes. She glances over her shoulder at Morticia and Gomez who watch them from across the garden. Although watch is a bit of a stretch. Morticia is rather invested in the rose that Gomez tucks behind her ear—thorns and all—with a loving pur. She breathes a sigh of relief. 

Wednesday wanders her way over. “I’ll get the chains.” She says. 

“Chains?”

“So he can’t get away.” Wednesday nods. “He likes the silver ones the best. The big iron ones are too heavy.” She pauses. “He’ll grow into them.” And just like that Pugsley is bound good and tight. “Now then. Let’s begin.” She clasps her hands behind her back. 

Pugsley shoots her a goofy grin. “Make it a good one!”

Azula clears her throat. “I will have you know that my lighting is always superior.” She lets it dance upon her fingertips. She brings it precariously close to his nose and waits for him to twitch. Instead he giggles. 

Azula sighs. He isn’t even slightly intimidated. 

In fact he groans in disappointment when she withdraws her fingers. 

“Just so you know, I am not being nice or merciful. Your disrespect of me will be punished. However I will not waste my lightning on you. Lightningbending is a very complex and highly regarded art. It isn’t to be used for silly games and party tricks.” She declares with a tilt of her chin. She clasps her arms behind her back. “I used it to strike the Avatar down and…”

Pugsley giggles again. “You’re really weird.”

Azula’s eye twitches. “And you smell like a moldy carpet!” She pinches her nose for good measure. Her heart lurches when a shadow falls over her. Two of them, in fact. She grits her teeth. “Listen I was just—”

“Isn’t she just precious?” Morticia gushes to Gomez.

Azula furrows her brow. “Wh—”

Gomez clasps an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t hold back on him now. Everyone loves a good verbal sparring! A battle of wits is an underrated form of combat.” He concludes.

For once Azula’s heart swells with delight. Ursa certainly would have scolded her for a remark like that. Would have demanded that she treated her brother with respect. Nevermind that Zuzu takes jabs of his own now and then. “You aren’t…I’m not in trouble.” She sounds like a child and she hates it.

“Well of course not! It’s perfectly healthy for children to play outside.” Morticia answers. “And such a creative game too!”

Gomez nods. “Indeed. Innovating lightning into playing hostage. Pugsley makes a remarkable upcoming criminal doesn’t he?”

“He’s an absolute menace.” Azula grumbles, thinking of the tin full of spiders he had left on her bedside in place of mixed nuts and dried fruits. She can still feel them crawling up her arm. 

“Oh he sure is!” Morticia agrees.

.oOo.

The poor darling is so quiet and weary. Morticia pats the spot on the sofa next to her. She will get the girl to feel at home yet.”

“Pugsley and Wednesday had a fantastic time today. They simply adore you.” Morticia compliments.

And Azula’s brows furrow. “They did? They do?”

Morticia nods. “Well of course. Pugsley is absolutely delighted to have met someone else who enjoys electricity as much as he does. He and Wednesday are constantly playing execution; she straps him to an electric chair and he pretends to be a criminal giving his final words! But Wednesday gets tired of playing the same game over and over again. She would rather read her books.” She pauses, hoping that she isn’t boring the girl. “I’ll have to ask her to read you some Edgar Allan Poe one day. Have you heard of him? Do they read his works where you are from?”

Azula shakes her head. “No. But there is a poet named Ryo-Hi. He has some thoughtful poems about dragons but I don’t really care for that sort of thing.”

Morticia hums. “Well you’ve never heard an Addams family poem!” She says. “We have poetry slams every 14th day of the month. Gomez has a way with words. You’ll have to join us one day.”

Azula swallows and Morticia can tell that something is on her mind. Home, perhaps. “My dear, if you don’t want to stay with us just say the word and we’ll reach out to Uncle Fester to see if he can come by a device that can transport you…”

“No!” Azula says abruptly. “I…I don’t want to leave. I don’t think that I want to leave.” She bites her lower lip. “I don’t really have many friends where I came from. The think that I’m…” She trails off. “Morbid, cruel, a monster.”

“Oh, darling, they are right; it sounds like they love you very much!”

Azula shakes her head. “They aren’t like you. Monster and morbid aren’t terms of endearment.” 

Pursing her lips, Morticia replies, “well that sounds absolutely drab.”

She shrugs and is silent for a moment before adding, “I guess.” 

Morticia feels rather inclined to embrace the girl, but she remembers her mentioning something about not being the hugging sort. 

“Well our family, finds you to be wonderful company and we’ll be glad to have you here.” Gomez promises as he enters the room. “The children wanted to play catch with a hornets’ nest before supper. Lurch will fetch them when it’s ready.”

Morticia nods. “Thank you, mi cariño. I would hate to cut their fun short.” She turns back to Azula. “Would you like to be an Addams?”

.oOo.

“Azula Addams does have a satisfying ring to it, I suppose.” And it would be awfully nice to be a part of a family that delights in her cynicism, witticisms, and sarcasm. To have a mother who still calls her a monster but with a very loving coo.

“Well that is splendid news!” Morticia takes her hand. “I will let the children know that you will be staying with us. They were hoping that you would be an older sister to them.”

Azula’s stomach flutters. “I never got along with my own brother.” She confesses. “Pugsley is much less whiny.” And much less preachy. And while her mind is on the topic of preachy… “what’s uncle Fester like?”

Gomez puffs his chest. “Ah yes! Good ol’ uncle Fester. An extraordinary man, he is. He’s a lot like you in that he’s got a way with electricity! I think that he would love to see that…what is it called?”

“Lightningbending.” Azula fills in.

“Lightningbending! He would love that a lot. He’s a practitioner of martial arts as well—kung fu to be precise. Your lightningbending looks a lot like that, you know.” 

Azula tries not to grin too widely at the thought of having someone to firebend with. “Just wait until you see my firebending.”

“Firebending, well that sounds extraordinary.” Morticia replies. “Perhaps you can show us your firebending at the dinner table.”

“At the dinner table?” She almost comments that it is poor manners to do any type of bending at a dinner table unless the setting is a dinner theater. She bites her tongue, reminding herself for at least the sixth time today that things are very unusual here. “At the dinner table, of course.” She folds her hands in her lap. 

She is going to have a lot to get used to now that she has been more or less, officially welcomed into the family. 

She can’t imagine that they will be impatient with her. And she thinks that, that is just what she needs; patience and a group of people who don’t demand perfection from her. People who, in fact, delight in imperfections and notable flaws.

And maybe, here with these curious, darkly inclined individuals, she can find a comfortable and kinder place is a world that wasn’t her own but suits her much more.

[gastergrooberfan]

Homestar Runner Characters as Equestrians *cursed I know* Homestar Runner and Homsar: Wyverns (armless dragons) Strong Bad: Unicorn (wanted to make the real main character and his brothers the only regular ponies, plus a reference to Hearts as Strong as Horses) The Cheat: Bunny (like a more interesting Angel) Strong Mad: Earth Pony (the strongest of the ponies) Strong Sad: Pegasus (I’m sad that I’m flying) Pom Pom: Seapony/Hippogriff (bubble bubble) Marzipan: Changeling (seemed fitting enough) Coach Z: Zebra (cuz Z and he likes to rhyme) Bubs: Griffon (griffons constantly demand bits) King Of Town: Batpony (based on Xeriouxly Forxe, plus Flutterbat was an uncontrollable glutton) Poopsmith: Diamond Dog (the ones that kidnapped Rarity seem to have poor hygeine)

[canineadversary]

i saw everyone was drawing their kinsonas so i decided to draw me as fluttershy :3

detail explanations below cut <3

• grey hair streaks to represent me being a wolf !!

• piercings bcuz i have a bunch and ofc every version of me will have them <3

• raccoon stripes bcuz i just like them !! my favvvv hair ever i love them im putting them in my hair again next time i dye it :3 missed them dearly

- and more hair dye on tail bcuz i cannot leave my hair alone <//3

• more patterns/markings bcuz it looks cool OBV

• collar also to show i am and always will be a Dog

• fangs bcuz i kin flutterbat as much as fluttershy she lives on forever in my heart bcuz she is me <3

• and ofc the exaggerated lower lashes/downturned eyeliner bcuz that’s how i do my makeup when i actually care to do it !!

[sxfi-pony]

Late for halloween

Been doing a bunch of studying lately so thats why this is late but yeah i love flutterbat with all my heart

[shirecorn]

Shirecorn's Ponyverse Masterpost

So for the last 2 months I've fixated on doing redesigns based somewhat loosely on My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I've had so much fun filling in the gaps and extrapolating until my version is less of a redesign and more of an AU.

"Ponies" are three species of sentient hoofed creatures that populate Equestria. They worship giant goddesses that fill the sky and ferry the moon and sun across the world.

Tag navigation

#Shire draws mlp - drawings only. Leaves out the lore

#Skyscraper gods lore - drawings, posts, and asks that expand on the world. Talks about biology, genetics, ritual, society, politics, religion, but mostly creature design and magic.

#Skyscraper Gods - Art, asks, posts, and fanart! Everything to do with both my little pony canon and my version of things. Includes drawings without lore, and lore without drawings. This is the tag to browse to make sure you see it all

Characters

In progress: Discord

○ The Mane Six ○ All Alicorns,

○ Rarity ○ Fluttershy ○ Flutterbat ○ Applejack ○ Pinkie Pie ○ Pinkie Pie Pegasus ○ Rainbow Dash ○ Twilight Sparkle ○ Raritwi ○ Spike

○ Princess Celestia + Princess Luna ○ Princess Cadance + Shining Armor + Flurry Heart ○ Sunset Shimmer ○ Sunburst ○ Apple Bloom + Scootaloo + Sweetie Belle (Cutie Mark Crusaders) ○ Big Macintosh/Ochard Blossom (she is a woman) ○ Granny Smith ○ Mr & Mrs Cake + Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake ○ Maud Pie + Mudbriar ○ Trixie Lulamoon + Starlight Glimmer ○ Cozy Glow ○ Zephyr Breeze ○ Escape Room Guy + Dusty Pages ○ Berry Punch/Berryshine ○ Vapor Trail ○ Bulk Biceps ○ Tempest Shadow ○ Flim and Flam ○ Queen Chrysalis + Thorax + Ocellus (Changelings) ○ Autumn Blaze (kirin) ○ Rain Shine (kirin leader) ○ Sky Beak (hippogriff) ○ Starcatcher and Skywishes (G3)

Lore

○ The 3 pony species ○ Breeding/genetics ○ The 4 Alicorns stories ○ Gods of non-pony species? Seapony god? ○ Unicorn Horns: Starlight physics, Different shapes, Alicorn horns, Horn colors, ○ Where did Spike come from? (1) (2) ○ Your daughter has won the favor of God (fic) ○ Nightmare moon playlist ○ Cutie marks are cultural not physical: (1) (2) ○ Starlight Glimmer's hometown and her cult ○ Alicorns don't fit inside buildings ○ Discord is a headache to behold ○ Government in the world of gods ○ Gender and matriarchy ○ Scootaloo's flightless disability ○ Equestria Girls Vs Skyscraper Gods, existential horror ○ Pinkie Pie breaks the forth wall because she hopped worlds once ○ Vampire fruit bat ecology and virus ○ How ponies caught it

Meta

○ Using Skyscraper Gods as inspiration (2) ○ Why I like expanding on MLP: its simplicity ○ MLP Creature designs are already good ○ If you don't like my designs ○ I'm just having fun: (1) (2) ○ Mane 6 doodle to finished design ○ After ponies ○ Designing based on birds and animals ○ Starcatcher dove

Shitposts and Doodles

○ My fursona in mlp style ○ Daytime! Nighttime! ○ Baby god ○ Local horse fistfights the sun ○ Shining armor alicorn ○ Sunset shimmer becomes god (2) ○ Poodle rarity ○ Zephyr Breeze thinks RD is a man ○ Season 9 ○ Why is EQ an hour long ○ Being held at gunpoint to watch Equestria Girls ○ World's gayest dash ○ 18 pounds of crake

Fanart by others

○ Fanart tag

Commissions

○ People request a lot and that normal ○ Prices are low because I'm already fixated

Ko-fi requests || Classic commissions

Shirecorn Discord

Join any tier of my patreon to access my art discord

○ See WIPs, discussion, the occasional meltdown, and more ○ The content is all done through discord, so if the patreon looks dead it's all just on the server instead.

I hope you enjoy seeing my MLP creations as much as I enjoy making them!

[sadistjolt]

Flutterbat And Sir Discord

Batgirl and Superhero

Yeah, I need to draw some light-hearted fluttercord to ease my tension

[ateacupofchaos]

DrSquee's Fluttercord Fanfiction

Hey guys, DrSquee here!

Here's a list of my current list of my Fluttercord fanfiction, some which have been completed, some which are still in progress. Almost all of these are NSFW 18+, so please stay cautious and read the tags carefully!!

COMPLETED

Of Hearts and Hooves, Cookies and Confessions - Fluff/Humour

[One Shot] (All Ages)

Its Hearts and Hooves day in Ponyville and Fluttershy is on her first date!

At least that's what Discord believes.

With the help of Spike and Big Mac, Discord is determined to make sure his bestie has "the perfect first date"....if he can keep a lid on his own feelings of course.

The Sand Beneath Our Feet - MermaidAU/Mutual Pining

[One Shot] (Teens & Up)

Twibra & Fluttercord Mermaid AU

Written for @gloomy-doom birthday!! A oneshot set in their Mermaid AU XD

Marine scientist Twilight struggles with her feelings for Mermaid Sombra.

Blood & Apples & Sweeter Than Blood & Apples - FlutterbatAU

(+18 NSFW)

Based on @lookoutlooseseal Flutterbat AU in which Discord cares for a newly turned vampire Fluttershy.

Peek-A-Boo - EQG/Modern DayAU

(2 Chapters) (+18 NSFW)

An interrupted moment of privacy opens up the door of progression for Fluttershy and Discords relationship.

Works In Progress

The God In The Forest - Dark Fantasy AU

(+18 NSFW) (Chapter Count = 7)

Fluttershy never expected to find a long forgotten Chaos God living within the Everfree Forest.

She definitely didn't expect to fall in love with him.

Equestria Girls: Ceremony of Chaos - EQG/Modern DayAU

(All Ages) (Chapter Count = 6)

Its almost time for graduation for the Mane 6!! Each one is looking forward to taking the next step into the future.... expect Fluttershy!! Riddled with anxiety, Fluttershy struggles to decide what to do with the next stage of her life.

As the Mane 7 fight new yet familiar faces, Fluttershy contends with her greatest challenge yet; following her heart.

Perhaps all it takes is friendship, kindness and a little....chaos?

I Can't Tell My Friends - Modern Day/NeighbourAU

(+18 NSFW) (Chapter Count = 9)

Neighbour/FWB AU.

Part-time model Fluttershy meets and embarks on a "no-strings attached" friendship with her eccentric neighbour Discord.

But neither realise that the more time they spend together, the more hopelessly entangled they become.

I'll try and remember to post on Tumbles when I next update. All my fics are slow to update unfortunately, as IRL is very strained for time and I also like to draw as well (I usually have to pick between the two ^_^;;)

I hope any new readers will enjoy what I've written so far! And thank you to any regulars, you're continued support is much appreciated!! <33

[spacepony]

I got to do this Flutterbat back in December, and also snagged a healed photo of the Derpy we did back in spring. :) thank you Andy!! 🦄 #tattoo #mylittlepony #mlptattoo #fluttershy #flutterbat #fluttershytattoo #pinkworkers #popculturetattoo #luckyponytattoo #apothichearttattoo #sacramento #tahoepark #ladytattooers #elusivetattoomachines (at Apothic Heart Tattoo Collective) https://www.instagram.com/p/BsRBZgUFHKa/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=buobrvf4sqtl

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I Am Blackened Bones (Part 15)

She is alone.

Always alone.

Always in the dark.

She supposes that she could leave this place. She has found the door. It isn’t a physical thing so much as blanker space suspended in a blank space. It is a spot of darkness darker than the rest. And when she passes through it, light strikes her with violent aggression. Her eyes are not used to the light, Azula has grown so used to the dark. It is more comfortable. 

Mostly she is content to just lay here. Lay here and dream. At least she thinks that she is dreaming. It is hard to say considering that she is awake. But images flick and flit, offering moments of respite from an otherwise empty world. Mostly she just hears words. But now and then she sees a lake or a trail. Now and then her visions come with sensations; the feeling of a hand taking hers, the flutter of flutterbat wings against her palm, a rush of cool water soaking her through and through is the most common of the sensations. It is a nice break from the constant dull burning that burdens her. 

Save for the occasional searing, she supposes that it doesn’t bother her to be here. She thinks that it might have troubled her at one point. That it might have absolutely terrified her. It doesn’t anymore and she is probably better for it. She is perfectly alright with resting here with her cozy nothingness and with those occasional intrusions of somethingness.

But today she is feeling daring. Today she passes through that blank space. Today she squeezes her eyes shut and covers them with her hands until the brightness becomes more bearable. Her eyes sting and water when she opens them. And it is no wonder, the world beyond the darkness is filled with smoke and ash and popping embers that irritate her eyes and lungs. 

Azula takes a few steps away from the door and tries to make out the shapes within the flames. Bookshelves teeming with scrolls upon scrolls. She swallows hard, her heart races. With a mighty snap one of the shelves buckles and a rushing gust of fire unfurls towards her. With a sharp cry, she leaps back and out of its way. Back and nearly into the other shelf. She hisses at the sudden rush of heat. She hadn’t touched the flame but she knows that she had gotten close enough for it to leave her back a vicious red and the hem of her robes slightly singed. 

Azula swallows hard and creeps her way around the bookshelves only to find herself face to face with more bookshelves. She bites the inside of her cheek and wanders further, taking corner after maddening corner only to find the same endless insanity; a never ending stretch of burning bookshelves with the occasional sculpture, portrait, or piece of furniture to tell her that she has found somewhere new. 

And after a while even those start to look the same.

Her breath quickens and her heart thunders. 

She throws herself around another shelf and finds herself presumably back in the very spot she had just left. Over and over again, a never ending loop. There is a tightness in her throat and chest. A tickle in her belly born from a foreign sense of fear; the kind that converts itself into impulse and hasty, careless decisions. 

She begins taking her turns and corners with a frantic sense of desperation.

But what else can she do? It isn’t as though careful decisions will lead to different results. 

Why should she think rationally when this place, wherever it is, is so perverse from the natural, so far removed from any sort of logic. 

If she takes a corner wrong she finds the world tilting and dumping her down from the ceiling. She crashes facedown onto a burning carpet where she lays and screams. Roars with the flames. She can’t find the exit and she can’t find the door that had brought her here, to this burning place. 

Scraps of burning paper rain down around her. They fall from helpless scrolls and books. The flames finish them off before she can read more than one or two words. ‘Fire lord’, she reads and then that scrap is consumed. ‘Sozin’s comet’, and that one too is gone. She catches a third scrap of paper and pats it until the fire is out. It leaves a ring of blisters on her palm. She slips the singed paper into her pocket where it leaves a ring of blisters on her thigh.

She doesn’t know for how long she remains on the ground, weeping to herself before she numbly pushes herself off of the ground. It is entirely useless but she lets her shaky legs carry her through the maze until her eyes gloss over and her head empties. 

Empties save for the sense that she has done this before. 

And then the fire dims and its crackle grows quieter. She keeps walking one foot after another. She walks for ages. And after an eternity, the dim light is reduced to a weak glow. And then she is falling.

Falling.

Falling. 

Forgetting. Falling…

She never lands but her body comes to rest. Azula isn’t afraid, not particularly. She thinks that maybe she should be. But she is too tired to be afraid. Tired from what? She can’t remember having done anything particularly exhausting. But she must have; how else would she have arrived here? Wherever here is. 

There is something wrong. So very wrong. 

So why isn’t she afraid? 

Why doesn’t she feel inclined to leave her unsettling but strangely comfortable dark world. 

She wants to leave this place. There has to be something beyond it. 

She knows that there is; if she listens hard enough, sometimes she can hear it. 

Azula has nothing better to do. She closes her eyes and listens. “Have you ever tried seal jerky?” She knows that voice from somewhere. “Sokka, I don’t think that spirits eat seal jerky.” She knows this voice, she hears it often. And it is solace in its familiarity. She likes that voice very much. 

It fades quickly at the realization that she has recognized it for what it is; a sound from the outside rather than some vague image projected from nowhere. Azula’s heart quickens. Yes, that’s right. There is a world outside of all of this and she had been trying to get there.

Azula sits herself up and lightly knocks her fist against her head, some feeble attempt to dislodge the memory that had been so recently lost to her. 

She had been doing something before landing here again. But what?

Azula wraps her arms around herself. 

And then she feels it, something jutting from her pocket and scratching at her ribcage.

She reaches into her pocket and her fingers find a brittle slip of paper. 

Maybe it could tell her how to leave this place.

She could read it if only it weren’t so dark.

.oOo.

The Avatar is here and he has brought some creature with him.

It keeps its distance and looks upon her with innocent eyes. She doen’t trust those eyes. They seem to hint that they know something that she doesn’t. But what could some silly spirit know that she does not?

“Hello, Azula.” The Avatar greets plainly, methodically. It is unlike him, doesn’t match his usual demeanor. The cheerful demeanor that she remembers from the world outside of this dark place. At least she thinks that he had, had a cheerful demeanor. She could be mixing him up with someone else, attaching his face to a personality just because it is there for her to do so.

Azula massages her aching head. 

Her head always hurts when he comes around. She sees him and things start to shift…memories stir. They make her head pound as they fight to break through whatever barriers keep them from reaching her. Sometimes a few manage to wiggle free. 

“Avatar.” She returns the greeting. “Avatar, it’s getting worse.” And she is becoming more terrified as her fuzzy memories continue to erode.  “I…I almost didn’t recognize you.” But it is coming back to her. “We’ve done this before?”

“Yeah.” The Avatar confirms. “We have.” 

.oOo.

Azula’s cheeks are burnt, Aang notices. Azula does not, or maybe she has noticed long before he got here so the alarm isn’t there. It isn’t as though she has a mirror, she can’t see how painful those burns look. Her left cheek is a very bright red, the other is swollen and slightly blistered. 

“What happened?” He asks.

Azula furrows her brows.

He points at her cheeks. Her brows knit tighter as her fingers graze her cheek. She flinches and gasps. He is getting used to seeing fear flicker in her usually composed demeanor. These days the fire spirit is less jittery than she. Likely the product of familiarity, the fire spirit remembers the things that Azula seems to struggle to recall. The spirit has gotten quite used to Azula and her distaste for her. But Azula is no more comfortable with the spirit than she had been when they’d first seen each other.

“I—”

“Did you try to leave on your own again?” He asks. 

“Leave?”

Aang nods. “We talked about this last time…” He doesn’t know why he bothers, she never remembers. “It’s better if you don’t try to enter the maze without me.” 

“The maze…” She murmurs. She lifts her hands to rub her face but thinks better of it. “Avatar, I don’t—” 

“It’s alright. Just follow us. The spirit seems to have a sense of where we’re going.” It is strange, he thinks that the spirit is adapting, becoming knowledgeable while Azula diminishes. It could be that her instinctual hatred of the spirit might not be unfounded; maybe, just by existing, the spirit is feeding off of and consuming her. Whether it means to or not. 

“Do you remember any of this?” Aang asks, gesturing to the maze. 

Azula shakes her head. 

Aang sighs. 

“No wait…” She frowns. The crease in her brow is becoming very familiar. By the end of this he is almost certain that they will become permeate wrinkles on her forehead. “I think…yes. I was here. I…what did I do?” She trails off into a string of murmurs that are meant more for her own ears than his.

The spirit cocks her head and reaches for Azula’s robes. Azula snarls and snatches them away. “Are you trying to set me ablaze!? It’s bad enough that I have to avoid touching these burning shelves, I don’t need to be worrying about…” Her eyes widen. “The shelves. Yes, that’s right.” She reaches into her pocket. “I found this. I have been here before.” 

Aang takes the sheet from her hand. 

“I don’t know why I can’t remember.”

“It’s probably a security measure. Whoever built this maze built it with a fail safe; it keeps you from remembering so that you can’t find your way out.”

Azula nods. “Yes, that would make sense.” 

Aang allows a sense of relief to wash over him. Maybe Azula’s mind isn’t going dull. She just needs him to jog her memory whenever he visits. 

“This isn’t the first time that I’ve talked to you?”

Aang shakes his head. “I’ve been here three times before now.”

Azula nods. 

“Do you remember that?” 

She shakes her head. 

“You don’t remember anything about the spirit?”

“I remember that I don’t like it.” 

“But do you remember why?” 

She shakes her head as the spirit guides them around another corner. This one is unfamiliar. His heart leaps, they might finally be getting somewhere! “It’s because the spirit is a part of you. Deep down, you know that and it scares you. It scares you because you don’t understand it.”

.oOo.

Azula balls her fists and bites the inside of her cheek. She spares a glance at the spirit in question. It still keeps a very good distance from her. It is afraid of her as it very well should be. She can sense that much. Perhaps that is why it is less chatty today. That’s right…it is usually talkative. Not that it ever uses its own words. It likes to imitate her. Mock her. That is why she resents it…

“You don’t like the spirit because you don’t understand it and that makes you afraid. You don’t like things that frighten you.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel, Avatar!” She snaps. 

“Just listen to me, please. I don’t think that we have a lot of time. We’ve been through this twice, eventually you wrap your head around it and remember but I need you to do that a little faster if you want to get to the end of this maze.” 

“Avatar…”

“Just listen. Please.” He urges. 

Azula swallows whatever remark had been on her tongue. But the spirit speaks, “don’t tell me that I am afraid!” The remark has no bite nor command coming from the spirit. But it chills her all the same. 

It reminds her that, in spite of her stolen words, she is very much terrified. 

Her terror is dashed with a spot of relief as comprehension dawns upon her. “It…she…that spirit is me.”

Aang nods.

“Does it…does she understand? Does she know what she is?”

“I don’t think so. She knows how to navigate the maze and she seems to be better at latching onto the memories that do come to her. She can remember having walked around this maze before even though you don’t. But she doesn’t seem to understand the things she remembers.” He pauses. “Like the komodo rhino thing, it's a detail from your life that keeps her tethered to you but she doesn’t know what it means.”

“It’s just a stupid fact. From when I…” She falters. “From when I was a child. I used to love komodo rhinos.” She tries not to get to giddy over the recollection. She probably won’t retain it. “It’s not really important.”

“Maybe it wasn’t before. But right now it’s something that ties you to her and keeps you from fading away.”

Azula’s small smile diminishes again. 

“I’m not going to let you fade away if I can help it. But that’s the thing, I don’t think that that’s in my control.”

Azula cringes. 

“It's yours. You like to be in control, so that should be good news.”

The spirit comes to a halt just as she does. They both look despairing at Aang. “Avatar, I don’t know what I’m doing.” They say in perfect unison.

“Don’t worry. I have a theory.”

“Keep navigating.” Azula demands the spirit. It offers her a rude gesture that it had probably plucked from somewhere in her mind but it does resume leading them along. “I’m not like that, Avatar. I have manners.” 

Aang laughs. “Well that didn’t come from nowhere. She probably found some repressed desire.”

She is thankful that she has the red of the burn to cover her blush. She folds her arms. “State your theory, Avatar. You mentioned that we don’t have much time.”

“Right.” Aang replies. “Well I’m thinking one of two things needs to happen. You either need to accept and embrace the spirit as a part of you and then merge with it or we need to find the end of this maze.”

“Wouldn’t finding the end of the maze cause the two of us to merge?”

“I don’t think so. I think that if we reach the end of the maze and exit before you merge, only one of you will get to leave. This maze is part of a spirit curse and it’s meant to get rid of you, Azula. I think that the only reason you, the human you, still exists is because you refused to just give in and forget.”

Or because he had gotten to her just on time; she had been getting terribly content in her quiet dark place. Azula shudders and the fire spirit’s flames flicker. 

“You’re supposed to be a prisoner in your own mind, losing bits of yourself until you fade completely. If we get to the end of the maze before you and the spirit become one entity, one of you is going to have to stay behind and fade away.”

“Well there’s an easy solution to that, Avatar. I’ll leave because I am the real me and the spirit can disappear. She wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with.” But what would that mean for her? If the fire spirit is part of her, which part will she lose if she lets it fade. “Avatar, since it is a fire spirit, would I…would I lose my bending if I choose to leave it behind?” Or would she lose much more than that.

“I don’t know Azula.” He frowns. “I’m not even sure if my theory is correct. I just know that it would be better if you merged.”

“Well get that over with then.” Azula slows her pace to a halt. “How do I merge with the spirit?”

“You have to remember, Azula.”

“Well I do, I remember now. We’ve talked about this before, we’ve had this discussion!” Only twice but they have had it and she does remember it! She remembers it quite clearly now. And she remembers how it always ends; Aang gives her a sad smile and shakes his head right before the fire begins to close in on them. Before he has to make a swift and hasty retreat. Before they have to start all over again.

It is, in fact, the very same smile and head shake that it is giving her right now.

[fluttermedeadly-moved]

*big Mac approached the tree that flutterbat was hanging . He gently placed a large basket of apples.*"Here you go shy, I don't care what ya are your still shy to me . I'll bring ya some cider later on but please enjoy the apples."he smiled a warm smile at her @bigmacgentlegiant

Batsy peaked her head out from her wings and looked down at the big stallion. She recalled him slightly and registered his face. In her vampiric form it was more difficult to recognize ponies.

She didn’t have the heart to explain to him that she was not the fruit bat she had been when when the purple pony’s spell went awry, but now a real vampire. So she’d eat the apples.

She swooped down. Swift. And grabbed one, sucking on its juices. It could fill her up for a while, at least. Maybe keep her from having to drink blood for a little while.

@bigmacgentlegiant

[gothshy]

{{ here’s what I’ve come up with }} ||welcometodeadharmony|| (possible SPOILERS for readers, for miss T and my plotting)

and it harks to Dracula in a big way and ties you to Strange & Norrell

While Pinkfield and Starlight are experimenting and talking about the King of Dead Harmony maybe Batsy (Flutterbat) shows up with her blood-grudge against Starlight (as she has one against Twi, Rarity, AJ and Star for abandoning her and what she believes was her murder) and tries to kill both mares and the two of them have to fight her. Batsy attacks Twiward’s asylum and we can have one hell of a crazy thread with a vengeful, bestial vampire running around in a madhouse out for blood until Pinkfield and Starlight manage to slay her with a stake in the heart and cutting off her head.

Then Star gets he idea of resurrecting her back as an ordinary pony using Old Magic by summoning the Dead Harmony King. So she sews Fluttershy back up instead of burning her body and she summons Jeremoth but instead of giving him Fluttershy as a dancer for half a night like would usually happen she makes a deal with him. She offers herself to him in return for a second chance a normal life for Fluttershy. No vampirism, no half a life in Dead Harmony, just an ordinary pony. 

If he accepts that would mean he gets to take Starlight away. Then in Dead Harmony she’d bring up the Underground and offer to be one of his Incubi full time if he helped her to destroy the Underground.

That’s the idea I was playing with. I think it’s pretty cool so far because it manages to bring in elements of both your crossovers and bring in my plots (Flutterbat’s vengeance and Star’s obsession with the Underground, plus my penchant for the grim macabre -- sewing together a corpse much? lol.)  

Also we could have fun once Flutters wakes up. Maybe she becomes Flutterfreak and she and Pinkfield develop a rivalry lol. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 42)

It doesn’t hurt anymore, in fact everything is very cozy. There is a warmth that spreads all over her body from her head to her toes, down her arms and up her legs, over her spine and throughout her chi points, straight to the fire chakra in her belly. Azula doesn’t think that she has ever felt so pleasantly warm. That is the first thing she acknowledges.

The second thing is the smell, it is like turnips and strawberry and luxurious incense.

The third thing she notices is the forest. A strange forest and a turnip field at its center. But the turnips are strange--they grow larger and inverse with their leaves beneath the soil and their bounty atop. The turnips themselves glow. The entire forest is lit by fungus and mosses.

Her musings are interrupted by the clicking of a tongue. “I shouldda tol’ you to be careful, girl!” She sighs and holds out a bony, disfigured hand. “Come on now, follow me, I think that you’ll want to see what I have to show you.”

“I’m dead, aren’t I? This is the Spirit World.”

“Something like that.” The old woman nods. Azula studies the woman’s lumpy face as she continues, “think of it as...nevermind, I’m not supposed to tell you that. Just follow along. I’ll show you what I need to show you and then I’ll send you on your way. Just like last time.”

Like last time… Azula’s brows furrow, “Go-Hara?”

The woman chuckles, “good to see you again, princess.” She pauses. “Sort of, I thought that you’d last longer than I…” The woman takes her deeper into the forest where both the tree and turnip fields are more plentiful.

“Go-Hara, how long did you last after I left?”

Go-Hara swats the back of her head, “manners, girl! You’ve been back at the palace for a while now, surely you remember them.”

She remembers them as well as she had forgotten how vexing Go-Hara could be during their brief time together.

“You wait here.” The old lady changes the subject. Before Azula can protest she steps into the sunlight. In its rays Azula realizes that the lumps on her flesh are no longer fleshy and bulbose but woodsy and teeming with life. Her twisted fingers are rich with leaves and mosses and elegant little gemstones. In death, the woman is more alive than most of the living.

She bursts into a spray of leaves, straw, and flutterbats. And Azula is alone again. Alone and confused.

She is dead. Very much so. She simply must be. She has seen a place like this once before. But she isn’t sad. How can she be sad when  the world is so warm. When Go-Hara has become so enchanting. When she, after several long minutes, feels a familiar hand on her shoulder? She is not sad.

But he looks distraught, terribly so. “What happened, Azula?”

Her tummy flutters--so he had noticed the blue fire. He did get to know who she is before…

“You aren’t supposed to be here so soon. You didn’t…”

She shakes her head. “I went to the poles, Hajime.” She says as if that would clear everything up.

“And then what did you do?”

“I got caught in a blizzard…” It’s a story that tells itself but regardless she adds, “firebenders don’t do so well in the cold, ya know?”

She doesn’t know why he is chuckling. “Still got yer accent.” He ruffles her hair.

She swats his and away and folds her arms across her chest. “Shut up. I didn’t die just to have you…!”

She hadn’t realized that her spectral body could be shoved over until she was on the ground. “Rikka!” Atsu shouts gleefully. “Rikka you’re here!”

She plucks him off of her and sits back up.

He tugs at her arm, “c’mon we gotta go tell Ojihara! We gotta go tell Seukhyun and Min-Min and Poyang, and everyone!” He gives her another tug. “Everyone misses you, Rikka!”

Everyone misses her… She wonders if the same is true in the physical world.

It dawns upon her to look for Sokka. “Hajime have you seen any Water Tribesmen anywhere?”

He shakes his head. “Not ‘round here.”

And she is relieved. If he isn’t here then she hadn’t died for nothing. And if his father isn’t here then he will have someone to confide in. Her heart still pangs though. And then a second time when she thinks of Caihong.

“C’mon, mama!” This time his tug is more forceful.

“Give her some time, Atsu.” Hajime laughs. “She’s still a little out of it.” He takes her hand and her disoriented feeling grows. Though the sensation is not unpleasant. Quite the opposite really. She had missed his hand in hers. Missed letting him scoop her up and into his arms. It is good to be there again and better still to know that he is holding Azula and not Rikka. That he still loves Azula. She nuzzles her head against his chest.

She doesn’t know where he is taking her--perhaps he is officially leading her into the Spirit World--but she doesn’t particularly care. Especially not when Atsu is holding her hand. When they come to a stop it is at the very center of a turnip crop wherein a large tree also grows. Hajime sits her down and props her up against the tree. “I’ll be right back.”

She wants to tell him not to go, that they have only just reunited and that she doesn’t exactly want to navigate the Spirit World on her own. But Atsu crawls into her lap and most of her objections fall away. She leans back and stares at a sky so vibrant she can only barely comprehend it. The lights are still there twisting and curling in curtains of teal and purple.

Azula closes her eyes. She doesn’t open them again until the delicate smells of lily and smoke tickle her nose. Hajime carefully shifts a familiar bundle into her arms. A bundle that radiates buttercup smoke. “Alright, let’s go see Ojihara.” He says and at his words, Atsu springs from her lap.

Azula clutches the bundle tightly to her chest as she follows him along.

“So, why don’t you tell me all about your journey?”

Azula shakes her head, “it’s a sad story, I’d rather not.”

He nudges her. “There has to be something that made you happy?” He tilts his head.

And there was. There were a few things, she realizes. It was the sound of a pipa echoing through the woods under the moon. It was nighttime chatter and the crackle of a fire. It was the smell of strawberries. The feeling of wet clay smudged on her cheeks. And even at the very end there was beauty, an enticing display of other worldly light. And even at the very end there was love. She was loved. He held her until she could no longer feel his arms.

And so she tells Hajime all of it. She wonders if he will resent her for moving on. Occasionally she pauses her story to answer Atsu’s questions--mostly centered around Caihong and Bao.

They come to a bridge. Agni, she missed standing on this bridge. But the water she looks down upon are wispy and glittering in a way that she has never seen water glisten. She could swear that those lights dance beneath its surfaces in unison with those in the sky. She holds the bundle to her chest and watches its own buttercup light dance. It is so pure, so untainted...

When she looks up from the bundle she sees Go-Hara standing on the other side of the bridge.

“Have you met Go-Hara, yet?” She asks.

“The tree lady!” Astu grins. “She’s a lil’ funny.”

“You better go talk to her.” Hajime says, giving her a little nudge.

She steps forward only to have him gently pull her back. He presses a small kiss to her lips before letting her carry on. With a small smile she makes her way towards Go-Hara. Her tummy flutters, she isn’t sure what she is nervous about, only that she is vaguely apprehensive. She looks back to Hajime for reassurance but he is not there. Atsu is not there.

The bridge is crumbling and the air is growing cold. Dread fill the absence of warmth. She hugs the bundle as close to her body as she can. Closer and closer until it is sealed away within herself. It is the only warmth that she has left now as she creeps closer to Go-Hara.

“Are you ready?” Go-Hara asks.

She doesn’t think that she is.

“Come on, dear. It’ll be alright.”

She swallows. She isn’t so sure…

Where is she? What is she? What’s going on...

.oOo.

The trip home is something of a haze. Mostly he remembers the snout of a polar bear dog, it's hot breath on his neck. He remembers hearing Bato's voice, maybe uttering words of reassurance.

He remembers asking for his dad before desperately gesturing towards Azula. He had been so terrified that she was dead. She was as still as death. But he doesn't think that they would have lifted her with so much urgency and swaddled her so tightly if it were only a corpse that they were lifting. But her body was so so… He shudders. She didn’t look alive.

He doesn’t think that the image will leave his mind anytime soon. The frost on her lips and lashes. The blackish blue of her fingers. The tears frozen to her cheeks. And her eyes, her glassy eyes...she had been staring at him, unseeingly.

So why would they have bundled her up so tightly? Why would they have wasted the blankets?

“Where’s dad?” He asks again. Even a day after coming home they won’t tell him. No one wants to speak of Azula either. He is at his wits end. He doesn’t mean to snap but he needs to know, “they’re dead aren’t they!” He bellows. “Just tell me that they’re dead and get it over with!”

They’re dead and it is his fault. If only he had waited to show her the glacier. It would have been there, where would it have gone? He is so stupid and his stupidity had gotten two of the people he cares most about killed. And the third is probably angry with him for having gotten their father stuck in dreadful weather.

If she is angry, she certainly doesn’t show it. Instead she kneels down and hands him a bowl of sea prune stew. “I know that it isn’t your favorite, but it’s the healthiest and it’ll warm you up the quickest, so you better eat it.”

He has no qualms about sea prune stew, not when his stomach is rumbling something fierce. “Where’s dad? Where’s Azula?”

“Bato and Pakku are looking for dad.” Katara says softly.

“Azula?” He studies her face for a trace of sorrow or pity. He finds none and maybe it is that she really doesn’t care at all about Azula’s fate. But she would feel sorry for him, wouldn’t she? Finally she sighs, “finish your stew.”

His stomach sinks. He finds it hard to fill it with stew when it is already overbrimming with dread. But for the sake of appeasing Katara he forces down spoonful after spoonful until she decides that it is good enough and takes the bowl from him.

“Can you stand?”

“On my own or with help?” He asks.

Katara rolls her eyes and helps him to his feet. He feels numb and tingly all over and he has to lean against her for the entire trip to the medical tent. The medical tent--his belly flutters with hope.

Katara pulls back the flap and gestures him inside. “She isn’t in good condition, Sokka. Gran-Gran and I have been working on saving her fingers and toes. She hasn’t really woken up yet…”

“But she woke up?”

“I don’t know if I would call it awake.”

Sokka wanders over to Azula’s bedside. The sight of her is only slightly less disconcerting. At least there isn’t a sheen of ice coating her skin anymore at least there is some pink to her cheeks again. But she is still so deathly pale and her fingers are still unpleasant to look at.

Her body still shivers quite violently. It looks so terribly small. Small and scarred but powerful all the same.

He notices the bandages wrapped around her arm and then he makes not of his own bandages. The wolves had gotten her good but they had gotten him better. It occurs to him that his ribs, right arm, and right leg are bandaged. And that is a cue for the wounds beneath them to begin stinging. He grimaces.

“We should get back home, you need to…”

He shakes his head, “I want to stay here.”

“Sokka…”

“She didn’t leave me.”

“Sokka, she’s not even awake.”

“I know that you don’t like her but…” but what? There are so many things that he can say in her defense. So many amazing things. And yet for some reason he finishes as lamely as possible, “she took off her coat for me, Katara.”

Perhaps his finish wasn’t as terrible as he’d thought, for Katara sighs. “Go back home and get some rest, I can have Gran-Gran get you when she wakes up.”

He shakes his head. “I want to be by her now.”

Another sigh. “I guess that I can bring you your pillows.”

He musters up a grin, “you’re the best Katara.”

“And you’re the worst.” She rolls her eyes as he gets himself cozy under the covers with Azula. He carefully wiggles as close to her as he can and holds her head to his chest. Her shivers are violent enough to vibrate his own body. He holds her until they slow. Until the chattering of her teeth isn’t so audible. Until her rugged breaths become more even. It is comforting to feel them upon his chest.

He chances a glance at Katara. He wonders if she knows how much her help means to him. Wonders if she knows how much the woman she is helping means to him.

Azula gives a weak little hum.

Perhaps she isn’t anywhere near lucid and alert. And perhaps she is perilously closer to death than life but she still has a spark. And her sparks tend to blaze quite mightily in the end.