#((also here so I can get auroras muse back))

[comicaurora]

Out of curiosity, how far ahead are you on the comic? I mean, you must have it all planned and written out, but I imagine that you are drawing the future of Aurora even while we're reading it.

So is Arc 2 already illustrated and ready for upload while you're on like Arc 5 or something? I'm by no means undermining your need for a break; I'm shocked that you've been uploading continuously for over 4 years at this point. I'm just interested to know how long it takes a person to make something this great. And also if you change any details in the final edit?

Basically: what's the workflow like?

Also I think you low-key inspired me to pick up painting as a hobby. I'm ready to pour so much money into creating things that I know I'll hate. :)

God, arc 5? That's a very generous assessment of how fast I can draw!

Typically, when the comic is updating regularly, I keep a buffer of 10 to 20 completed pages. Right now, in the interest of taking a break, the buffer is 0 completed pages.

Chapter 1 of Arc 2 is completely storyboarded, meaning it's sketched out, the dialog is all mostly finalized barring last-minute rephrasements, etc. It can be read in its current form, it just looks unpretty. In fact, just for fun, here's a sneak peek!

In the next month I'll go through and finalize as many pages from this chapter as possible - which means locking down the panel borders, fleshing out the backgrounds, lining, shading, coloring, polish, etc. - which will be the process of building up a new buffer for when the comic starts back up again in January. During that time, I'll also be storyboarding Chapter 2 and as much of the following parts as I can manage.

I have the next several chapters and sub-arcs planned out in loose timelines - event A happens at location B leading to consequences C and D, stuff like that. Chapter 2, being the closest, is a little more fleshed-out, with a more detailed bullet-pointed timeline and various character ideas I've had that might or might not make it into the final version.

What exactly the chapter breakdown is going to look like is a little more complicated. Initially I'd planned for Chapter 1 to be low-stakes downtime and Chapter 2 to quickly kick off the high-octane adventure again, but when I started bullet-pointing out the stuff I wanted to do in Chapter 2, I ended up with a big pile of slower-paced character moments I thought were well worth exploring, so the runtimes might stretch a little.

Translating those brainstormed notes into storyboards and dialog is what I would classify as the "writing" part of this process. It happens at an erratic pace largely determined by the whims of whatever muse decides to get me in a headlock that day; sometimes I go weeks with no storyboarding progress, sometimes I hammer out fifteen pages in one day.

It's kinda like weaving, to me. The soon-to-be-arriving parts of the story are the most finalized, the most densely woven. A little ways beyond that, things get looser - some patterns may be locked down, but the actual work that'll hold it together hasn't been done yet. And in the far-flung future arcs, it's just the basic bones of the story and a pile of the threads I've planned to use. I know the shape of it, but in order for it to be fun and engaging for me to make it, I need to give myself room to be creative when I'm putting the whole thing together.

I actually have a file called the "Toolbox" that contains every random character or subplot idea I've had, and sometimes when I'm debating where to go with a chunk of story, I'll crack it open and scan through to see if anything jumps out begging to be used. Lotta fun stuff in there that may or may not ever see the light of day. Dropping stuff in the Toolbox is one of the most fun and freeing parts of the process for me!

#asks #behind the curtain #writing stuff

[biitchcakes]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME : Rory / Aurora

PRONOUNS : she / they

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : It depends ⸺ if we've not interacted much, definitely here on tumblr. But I don't mind giving my discord out after we've chatted or interacted a bit back and forth.

NAME OF MUSE(s) : Jessica Miriam Drew

BEST EXPERIENCE : I honestly couldn't tell you just one ! But I think the answer to go with is just getting to meet so many new people I otherwise wouldn't be able to ⸺ and in some instances, becoming friends.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : I honestly don't have any that wouldn't be like, standard, yk ?

MUSE PREFERENCES : Are they a lil chaotic ? Maybe a lil roguish ? Are they a big softie no matter how hard they deny / pretend they're not ? A flirt ? A rebel ? Yes ? Then I'd write 'em.

PLOTS OR MEMES : Both ! Sometimes my brain is better at plotting, sometimes it's better at memes.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : I love writing paragraphs when my brain allows it, but short things are great and fun too. On that note, this feels like a good time to say that as my rp partner, you NEVER have to match my length ⸺ be it long or short. That said tho, I would prefer at least a few sentences. ( That also said, I do definitely sometimes like one or two sentences back and forth. )

BEST TIME TO WRITE : It varies for sure ⸺ if I'm busy the next day, I might do most of my writing between 8pm to midnight. If I'm free tho, I suppose the times I prefer are really any time from 1am to about 7am ?? I'm both a night owl and an early bird, so really any time that isn't mostly daytime I guess 😭

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : We have our moments for sure. Funny enough, the place I say we differ the most is actually our food preferences ?? I write Ms Ham-Sandwich Woman herself and yet I personally don't even like ham all that much, or really any pork in general outside of sausage. I don't like the taste of butter unless I'm using it to cook or putting it on some toast. Meanwhile, she can eat 16 sticks of it.

tagged by : @danversiism 💖 tagging : steal it and tag me !

#i'm nosy i love seeing responses but never know who to taaaag #( d a s h g a m e s . ) #( o o c . ) #( q u e u e . )

[seachant]

knowing your partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier.

– BASICS.

✧ NAME: nini ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ other acceptable names include baby and princess <3 ✧ PRONOUNS: she / her ✧  SEXUALITY: straight ✧  TAKEN OR SINGLE: taken

– THREE FACTS.

✧ ariel used to be my least favourite princess back when i was an angsty teenager. i can't even take myself from that time seriously cause i also hated the colour pink. PINK. THE BEST COLOUR. i blame skins. now she's my favourite ofc

✧ i have one brother and he, my parents and i all live in different countries so we're a very international family. we video chat often though and meet for christmas every year. last year we spent it in vietnam.

✧ i work as a model in j*apan ! yes, life here is like an anime. not like a s*houjo one, though, sadly.

– EXPERIENCE.

✧   HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): 11 years ! started in 2013 in the disney fandom cause someone i was friends with on youtube wrote a disney muse and introduced me to roleplay ✧   PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: tumblr, discord and deviantart ✧   BEST EXPERIENCE: i've had the most fun experiences writing my ocs in a different blog just cause all the plots were so fun and wild. rpgs were fun too back in 2014-2015

– MUSE PREFERENCES.

✧   FEMALE OR MALE: girlies <3 i tried writing males for a while there but .. i'm just a pink princess who wants to write girlies ✧  FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: angst is the best + softcore smut. i get bored with fluff so fast .. like there has to be a fun plot or something behind those threads or they die instantly ✧   PLOTS OR MEMES: plots are soooo fun, especially if they fit the above genres but i'm happy starting with memes too and creating a pre-established connection on the spot ✧   LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: short - medium for the most part. if there's a plot and it's angsty then i write more ✧   BEST TIME TO WRITE: whenever i'm the most motivated, there's no specific time. sometimes it's right after i wake up, sometimes it's in the evening ! ✧ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): maybe a few years ago but now i think i'm more like aurora just wanting a simple life in a cottage with my handsome prince, chilling and going on picnics

TAGGED BY: i stole :) TAGGING: @dragetunge @peculiarbeauty @solheira @wintehr @solehr @iisdrottning @spriingsprung @alm1ghtysea @adversitybloomed @frageepruto @sparesovereign @rapunzael @trencri @frogcrowned

#⸝⸝ ꒰ ა 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓 🫧 ︵ ） ♡ ooc ‣ ninitime.

[mmaurysiek]

ch1 - the Good Place Mechs AU

While this post fic contains a major spoiler to the Good Place, no familiarity with the Good Place is required to understand this post. I'm merely putting our favourite immortal space pirates (including the space vampire mum) in a fun story setting 😈

...

Jonny blinks and, huh, what's going on in there? He is in an unfamiliar place, all pastel colours and space bare like a hostel room, and in some weird getup he doesn't remember putting on.

A door opens, and some pointy-eared lanky person in an ugly yellow uniform grins at him.

"Hello," says the stranger. "You are dead and you've made it to the Good Place, congratulations. Before we begin, John, do you intend to continue upholding the vow of silence you took back when you joined the monastery - also thorough your afterlife?"

Jonny gapes a little, and gives a small nod.

It's convenient, really. That way, he can always pretend that he's figured out this fucking prank much earlier.

"It works a little differently than you may have expected, John," prattles the stranger, "but the essentials should sound familiar to you. The neighbourhood has 322 residents perfectly matched to live together in a blissful harmony. I will show you around on the way to your new home. Quite a lovely little farm, I must say. Your soulmate came to us not long before you, and has kept that little farm running ever since."

Jonny nods. Get on with the exposure, he thinks impatiently, only half-listening. A giant line of bright green text stretches over one of the yellow walls.

"I feel like I'm forgetting something," muses the stranger. "Ah, right, we've done a little experiment on the resurrection of the flesh, here. See, some of the life's pleasures are only available to you mortals while you wear your, ah, flesh bag - we've made sure to fix them up a little, please remember to not pour any water inside when you shower - we have tried to improve the bodies a bit, too. It took a little guessing, i hope your facial hair is what you've wanted it to be because, frankly, you're stuck with it now."

Jonny touches his face to check. There is a thin hairy line on his chin and it doesn't fall off when he pulls on it. He manages to rip out a single hair.

He's got real facial hair! Woah!

Huh, maybe he really is in heaven. If they've got the gender reassignment shit done for him, well, Jonny supposes he can play along for a little while. Just until he figures out how to make the good parts stick, maybe.

"Aurora," says the - angel? - and a second version of them appears out of thin air.

"Hello world! I am Aurora!" says the copy cheerfully.

"Yes, Aurora, we know," the first angel says and then takes a second look at Jonny. "Oh, right, this is Aurora - she works with me as we keep watch over this neighbourhood. She appears when called by name, and takes shape of whoever said it out loud. She can conjure anything people ask for, and knows the answer to any question she might be asked. Of course you've always been very self-sufficient, John, so I understand that you won't ever need her assistance anyway."

...

"...a sprout salad bar, a sprout burger stand," the angel kept filling the silence, and Jonny yearned to loose them a little early. "And there is this little sprout garden there, so you can eat them directly from the soil if that strikes your fancy... Oh, hello Ahega, fancy seeing you here! John, look who is there! Ahega, look, your soulmate has finally arrived-"

"I'm forking begging you," whines a tall stranger who looks pretty cool actually, piercings and all - but forking? what the fuck? - "call me almost literally anything else. Maybe a nickname-"

The angel shakes Jonny's shoulder so hard that Jonny bites his tongue, ow.

"John here won't be calling you anything," the angel cheerfully announces, apparently oblivious. "He took a vow of silence while alive, and still upholds it here. Aurora?"

"Hello world! I am Aurora!" announces the copy, and Jonny jumps a little.

He's still not used that that, okay? And by the looks of it, his - or maybe the other John's - his soulmate doesn't seem to be used to Aurora yet, either.

"Aurora, would you please be so kind to give us a recording of brother John's life from his point of view, so that he can share it with his soulmate despite having vowed not to talk?"

"Processing... Here you go!" announces Aurora, handing Jonny something that looks like a real life save button. Huh.

"We'll leave you two to catch up, come on, Aurora," says the angel.

"Goodbye, Edda," answers Jonny's new soulmate with much less enthusiasm. Huh, the angel apparently does have a name, after all. "Goodbye, little moon," Jonny's new soulmate adds much more gently.

Aurora beams and skips steps, as she and Edda walk away.

...

(to be continued)

#the mechanisms #the mechs good place au

[jofletch]

[CIS WOMAN  and SHE/HER] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [JOSELLE ‘JO’ FLETCHER  ]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [SUKI WATERHOUSE]. You must be the [30] year old [OWNER OF DRIFTWOOD COFFEE SHOP]. Word is you’re [GOAL ORIENTED] but can also be a bit [STAND OFFISH] and your favorite song is [KILL BILL by SZA]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

@aurorabayaesthetic​

Hello there friends, I’m Mads this is my little baby Jo, she’s a new charrie to me so bare with me in figuring her out. I’m working on a bio currently but in the meantime here is a quick little head cannon then some random tid-bits! I’m looking forward to plotting with you all :)

Headcannon:

-Jo grew up here in Aurora Bay

-She is most known for the little scandal that she got caught up in in High School, she was seeing an older guy when we was a senior (18) he was 25 and if you know all too well by Taylor Swift then you know where this is going.. 

-Basically she got screwed over, she was so innocent and gave her all to him yet that wasn’t enough. Just so happens he had a wife on the next town over.

-So she skipped town and went to  NYC stayed there and did a little toxic stint where she experiemented with everything and anything then fell in love with this rockstart whom (you guessed it) did not have good intentions.

-After that Jo came back home and opened up the driftwood something she can put her time and effort into, and here we are.

-She’s pretty much sworn off men and women alike because she’s just not about the heartbreak however she can’t resist a good time.

GENERAL INFORMATION.

Full Name: Joselle Renee Fletcher

Nicknames: Jo, Jojo, Josie,

Age: Thirty

Date of Birth: November 4, 1994

Place of Birth: Cape May, NJ

Zodiac: Scorpio

Gender: Cis Woman

Nationality :American

Religion: Agnostic

Orientation: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Single

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

face claim: Suki Waterhouse

height 5'0

weight 125 LBS

hair color: Dirty Blonde

eye color: Green

tattoos: Angel wings (right index finger )  

dominant hand: Right

distinguishing marks : none

outfit/clothing : artsy,boho, street casual

hometown: Aurora Bay

current residence : Seabrook Quarter

spoken languages English.

financial status:  Middle Class

education level Graduated from High School, (did online grad classes never finished them though)

occupation: Owner of Driftwood Coffee Shop

hobbies: traveling, film, going to art exhibits, being creative,  getting tattoos, being a foodie, creating new experiences.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

mother: Renee Fletcher,

father : Luke Fletcher

siblings (OPEN FOR CONNECTIONS)

cousins (OPEN FOR CONNECTION)

children: none (that he knows of as of currently- Ivy Amor’s baby is his lol)

PERSONALITY.

positive traits:  determined, humble, daring, cultured, realist

negative traits: non-commital, dissmissive, self-sabotaging, contradictory

likes: the smell of a good perfume/cologne,  mint gum, astrology,  fireplaces, tennis, stargazing

dislikes:  busses, being too hot,

EXTRAS.

FAVORITES

TV Show: Parks and Rec

Movie: Step Brothers

Book: 1984

Color: Seafoam

Flower: Orchid

Scent: (vanilla musk)

Food: Indian Food/  A Good Burger

Alcoholic Drink: Chardonnay

Music Artist(s)/Band(s):  Greta Van Fleet, The Black Keys, The Neighborhood

Song: You're The one- Greta Van Fleet

WANTED CONNECTIONS

best friend

childhood friends

drinking buddies

neighbour

exes

new fling

protective friends

cousin

enemies

work friends

roommate

his new muse

tinder hookup?/ sneaky link/ fwb kinda thing?

literally anything <3

#aurorabay.intro #intro #idk what this is but wanted to get something up! come plot :)

[a-flux-uchiha]

The Twang of a Bowstring and the Spark of Swords

Teen, has a fight(no real blood, just to be safe) all HHAU people make an appearance, Dusk has pov rights this time.

“We’re coming up on some unsavory company,” Dot warned, holding up a hand. Dusk laid a hand on her rapier, glancing around at the others. She knew Artemis and Dot could fight, but what about the others? The three of them, well, four with Shadow, couldn’t protect the six others. 

“Alright. How many of you know how to use a weapon. Show of hands.” Artemis instructed, raising her own hand. Dusk raised her hand, as did Sun, Dot, Shadow, Sheik, and Tetra. 

“Does a magic rod count?” Fable asked, one hand falling to the fire rod at her hip. “Otherwise, I can use magic to fight.” 

“I’ll count it. Who can use magic to fight?” 

Somewhat unsurprisingly, almost everyone had their hand up at that, excluding Dawn, Aurora, as well as Sheik and Tetra, who put their hands down sheepishly. 

“Alright. Dawn, Aurora, remind one of us to teach you how to defend yourselves at the very least. Tetra, your inability to use magic to defend yourself concerns me, so we’ll handle that later as well.” 

“Concerns you, why?” Tetra asked, visibly offended. 

Dusk could answer that one. “Because you haven’t used magic once, and haven’t shown any indication of knowing how to. Not using magic at all can have consequences and be risky for yourself and Shadow and I.” 

Tetra settled for pouting about it. Fortunate she didn’t chose to continue to dispute it, Dusk would prefer if they got rid of the unsavory company as quickly as possible. 

“Alright. Aurora, Dawn, Flora, stay here. Anyone less confident fighting monsters and willing to stay back?” 

“I’ll stay back,” Fable volunteered, stepping back to stand near the two. “I can show them kind of the basics of offensive light magic anyway. Plus if I’m using light magic it might get risky.” 

“I’ll stay back as well,” Sun said, pulling a sheathed sword out of one of her bags. Dusk still wasn’t sure why she didn’t keep it on her, it seemed unsafe to have it so hard to access. Although she supposed that between everyone here with sensing skill they had plenty of warning. As evidenced by the fact that they had the time to stand here and plan this out. 

“Alright. Who has long-distance capabilities?” Artemis was good at this, although Dusk supposed it made sense, she had led in wartime. Maybe if she spent enough time around the older woman she’d pick some of it up. Maybe it’d just rub off. 

“I have my bow, although I use light magic with it,” Dot said, slinging the bow in question around to hold it out. 

“I also have a light bow, although mine isn’t physical,” Dusk admitted, remembering the bow she used the arrows the light spirits had given her with. Although now that she thought about it, it hadn’t really been fully light magic, even then. 

“I suspect most of us have used some variety of light bow,” Artemis mused. “Just out of curiosity this time, who’s used a light bow of some variety?”

Dusk raised her hand, as did Dot, although somewhat hesitantly, Tetra, Fable, Flora, and Artemis did as well. That was the majority. 

“I think they noticed us,” Shadow warned after a second, tilting his head. “Coming closer. We’d better move out or they’re getting the advantage.” 

“Alright. Dot, Dusk, stay back if you can to snipe, everyone else, try and stay out of each other’s ways, Shadow, we’ll try and warn you if there are any big light magic displays so you can hide.” 

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, what looked like a sword made of pure shadow forming in his hand. “Let’s go, I’ve wanted to have a good fight for a while.” 

Dusk concentrated, forming the bow she had used in that decisive final fight. The arrows wouldn’t be as powerful, but that was probably good. Her hands had been burned badly after that fight, just drawing them back. 

The monsters weren’t that far ahead, which wasn’t surprising, and Dusk did as ordered with Dot, hanging back and calling on every ounce of calm she could to concentrate and wish she had a way to practice on moving targets before this. 

Dot took shot after shot, some missing, but some also hitting home in monsters, be it their arms or head. A couple of arrows did incidentally hit one of the other Zeldas, but it always dissipated harmlessly against them. Dusk wasn’t sure her arrows would do it, so she didn’t fire off nearly as many arrows, worried about hitting someone she didn’t want to. 

Artemis finished off the last of about twenty bokoblins, marking an end of the battle. 

“That everything?” She asked to no one in particular. Dusk had no great skill with sensing, so she wasn’t the ultimate authority, but she couldn’t sense anything besides themselves nearby. After a second, both Dot and Shadow glanced at each other, then nodded. 

“Nothing left,” Dot confirmed, nodding again. “We’re in the clear. I’m a little surprised there was even this big of a group, the Links were here relatively recently.” 

“They are fallible, they could’ve missed some,” Tetra pointed out, sheathing her sword and gun. “So does Flora want some of these parts?” 

“Yeah probably,” Artemis said, crouching down and starting to collect them. Dusk wrinkled her nose at the guts, horns, and teeth strewn about the ground. She was not touching those. She didn’t care if Flora wanted them, she was not touching those. 

To her utter horror, Shadow picked a gut up, sniffed it curiously, then bit into it. 

“Shadow!” Dot scolded, and his ears tilted back guiltily as he hid the gut behind his back and swallowed quickly. “No eating monster parts.” 

“It tastes good, like those fizzy things you let me have the one time,” Shadow said, decidedly not relinquishing what was left of the gut. Utterly disgusting. At least everyone else there was making similarly disgusted faces, excluding Sheik, who, in the quarter of their face visible, looked almost morbidly curious. 

Dusk elected to ignore the rest of that argument and start striding back to where they had left the others. She was not going to watch Shadow do more stupid things. Honestly, eating monster parts, that was appalling. What had she done to deserve this. 

#hhau #hope of hyrule au #zeldas meet au #march of the zeldas 2023 #hhau dusk #hhau sun #hhau artemis #hhau aurora #hhau flora #hhau dawn #hhau shadow #hhau sheik #hhau dot #hhau fable

[loetise]

get to know your writing partner.  ˎˊ˗             knowing your writing partners can potentially make writing together a lot easier. repost, don’t reblog. 

name: aurora/rora (mainly rora. like always rora but the au lives in my heart i can’t get rid of her)

pronouns: she/her

preference of communication: discord definitely. ims are tiny but also i am known forgetter when it comes to asking others for it kjhdhjshjbd. i also find that i forget disco messages easier so like. discord but also ims :]

name of muse(s): on this blog it’s miss allie fleur but i also have star butterfly on @theunderestimated​​ as well as a bunch of crazy gorls on @nolambs​​.

experience/how long: i checked and i’ve been rping off of tumblr since 2017 but i joined the rpc here in 2020 love that pandemic for me.

best experience: i really like group plots like any group plot i’ve ever had lives in my heart it’s so fun to me. give me more.

rp pet peeves: mmmm idk?? like. one-sided plotting i think?? not just energy wise but also in a sense that like the other person is only talking about their muse and there’s no connection between the two of your muses being made it’s tough.

muse preferences for angst / fluff / smut: honestly it really depends on the muse. like with allie i’m a fluff girlie and i would have to say there’s gotta be a resolve to the angst it’s just how i feel with her. but like i’ve had other muses that are not capable of fluff (cj hook) nearly every single thread is angst with no resolve (cj hook) and i’m still having a good time i’m vibing because it’s just their nature tee bee ach!!!! but for this blog specifically ya we will probably have to plot out a resolve of some sort if we are doing some hardcore angst. i don’t like writing smut on the dash but i’ll do it on discord with people i’m comfortable with, and i think nsfw hcs can be fun to pass back and forth as well.

plots or memes: both 🤪🤪🤪 plots preferred but like i think. that’s normal. it’s easier to write with an idea in your head of the dynamic that’s how it works. allie’s an easy muse to throw at people out of nowhere so i’ve never had an issue with her and someone she’s never met. i do tend to prefer doing memes and setting them in a pre est relationship tho even if it’s with a muse she’s never ‘met’. is that anything.

long or short replies: depends on my mood i love long threads i just cannot get them done quickly. but like i think about long threads the most? when i’m daydreaming and cannot write i’m thinking about the long threads. i love short threads bc they are easy and fun and cute and i can get them out faster but i think i find myself more involved in the long ones.

best time to write: i’m a morning girlie a night girlie a 3am half asleep girlie an afternoon girlie. i’ve been busy this summer with a tendency towards weekend writing? it’s still like. anytime of day tho.

are you like your muse: like yes but not to the extreme point of allie. i am a lot more introverted and i overthink the things allie doesn’t think about even tho she does. a fair bit of overthinking herself.  

tagged by;   @detectdrew​​​​​​​​​​​  ♡♡ tagging;   you, steal this and say i tagged you!

#do u guys like my comma less runons are they readable #𖥸 ₊ * “ ooc ” … just had a dream <3 i love psychology.

[dialsdrnk]

new muses added ! i also dropped a few who i hadn't done anything with. under the cut, there's some introductions. <;3 please like if you want me to come plot with you for any of them.

phillip "lip" fry. jeremy strong. 45. bisexual. he/him — coo of a multi-billion media company, divorced, absolute failure of a father and husband. few redeeming qualities, overall public menace. disclaimer: highly inspired off of kendall roy, not even gonna lie about it. he's like kendall but written by someone who's never seen succession. me, i've seen like 3 episodes. selective muse.

jeffrey love. timothy olyphant. 54. bisexual. he/him — starting out strong with another bad father, jeff. he's a sports agent who has been married once, young, had a son and promptly fucked off; however, he's now taking a turn and after years of partying and traveling the world, he's decided to get sober and try to get his life together. he's high energy, think chris traegar from parks and rec, a little wild, too charismatic for his own ( and your own ) good. semi-selective muse.

jack love. wolfgang novogratz. 25. gay. he/him — good boy poet, turned calculated lawyer. pretty much all of jack's problems can be traced to ^ that guy — at least, if you ask jack about it, that's the case. he's full of himself, just as sickeningly charismatic as his dad is and mad about it, and is quite honestly a nepo baby who's had everything handed to him. struggles with his sexuality due to some traumatic bullying that left him unable to do athletics anymore in high school. despite his hard shell, he is still very much a hopeless romantic, and has a deep love for literature.

aurora "rory" everett. kaylee bryant. 22. pansexual. she / they — comes from a deeply troubled family, the youngest half-sibling of my muse, axel. rory's studying to be a veterinarian and she's always operated with a dreamy kind of mellow demeanor — a stark contrast to her older brother. she's gentle, kind, patient, and a natural leader, but she also really struggles not to keep people at an arm's distance due to the nature of her upbringing.

dani lee. hwang yeji. 21. lesbian. she / they / he — youngest of a very prestigious, very toxic family. not much was ever expected of dani as the fifth and most averagely skilled of her siblings, so she gets away with a lot more than they do — they're also not particularly close, except for her and flynn. she's coasting by in college, keeps changing her major, skates, basically just does whatever because she can. nothing but good times with this one. you know, until things start getting real.

merlin aurelia. tom holland. 25. gay. he/him — i don't really know what to say about this guy. in human verses, which be the default unless requested otherwise, he hops from gig to gig and scams people he thinks are dumb. he's an every man for himself kind of guy, lost his mom young, and has no sentiment towards his dad that isn't vile. in supernatural/superhero verses, he's a bloodbender, caught up in crime, and extremely unpredictable. chaotic evil is probably the alignment here? mix of that and chaotic neutral.

august "auggie" guidry. jonathan daviss. 23. pansexual. he/him — auggie's a part of a big, loving family and he is the definition of just a dude. low expectations in life, low worries; put out good in the world and it'll come back to you, probably, guy. he's autistic ( like me! my baby for real ), a college student, and he signs every one of his texts with the frog emoji. he can do frog impressions like you wouldn't believe. nothing else though, he's not a voice actor. he actually has no idea what he wants to do with his life, and could probably stand to be a little more curious about that.

#; ➢ ( ooc ) — 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥; 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐝.

[kessielrg]

Writing Bingo: Woke Up Next to Each Other

Kingdom Hearts. In which Ventus and Sabrina have a light conversation after sharing a bed (platonic) together. Full story under the Read More cut. 1,083 words.

Feel free to send an empty square as a prompt through my ask here: link

For a moment, Ven didn’t know where he was. When he had enough energy to open his eyes, his heart skipped a beat before a soft smile crossed his lips. He was in Sabrina’s bed, with Sabrina not too far from him as she continued to sleep. It was rare to see her so naturally relaxed.

‘I can’t believe I thought Aurora was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.’ Ven mused to himself. ‘She is, of course, but Sabrina’s just so...’

A longing sigh escaped his lips. Without conscious thought, he moved his hand to sit in hers. He even absently started to run his thumb over the back of her hand. It wasn’t a very comfortable position, but he didn’t care. Ventus was a lucky guy. He wanted to take in this moment -this side of Sabrina barely anyone (if anyone) saw- before it inevitably ended.

And it was going to end very soon, apparently.

Sabrina whined as she started to stir. Her hand closed in around Ven’s a bit tighter as she opened her eyes. When Sabrina finally opened her eyes, she blinked multiple times to get the blurriness out. Only then did she realize Ven was still right next to her.

Sabrina did not waste any time to make a face of disgust. She then groaned as she turned her body over (her hand leaving Ven’s in a rather smooth motion), and tried to pull her blankets over her head. It didn’t go very far since Ven was laying on top of them- a condition that was made the night before. She still tried tugging anyway.

“Get off my blankets,” she slurred, “I’m trying to ignore you.”

“That won’t stop me from staring.”

“Creeper.”

“Lazy bum.”

Sabrina still tried to tug her blankets from under him. It was still fruitless. Giving up, Sabrina shifted her body around again to face Ventus. Her eyes looked him over with scrutiny before finally let out a sigh of defeat.

“When are you getting up?” she questioned with a pained expression.

“When are you?” he asked back.

Another displeased face. Ven smiled. After that, they simply looked at each other. It was… calming. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

Ven wiggled around a bit to get more comfortable before admitting, “I like this.”

“I’ve woken up to worse.” Sabrina claimed with a half shrug.

“So I’m not the worst?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Ven’s grin only got wider. For a brief moment, the corner of Sabrina’s lips also quirked into a facsimile of the tiniest of smiles.

‘I never want to leave this bed.’

“I know I keep talking when you want me to shut up,” Ventus said. “But since it’s just us right now, can I ask you a question?”

“Fire away.” Sabrina permitted.

“Why is your room so… impersonal?”

Sabrina’s nose immediately scrunched up. “It’s not ‘impersonal’, it’s organized.”

“I get that,” Ven quickly said, trying to defend himself. “But you don’t have anything to show what you like. Your writing desk is always clean, so that doesn’t count. The only flowers you have are in the window box, and I know you didn’t pick those out. There’s not even a nice picture on your nightstand- not of Wasteland, not of Oswald, not even of me.”

“Of you?”

“Y-you know what I mean. I hope...”

Sabrina’s rather bemused expression did not help in the slightest. She moved her body so she was laying flat on her back.

“There’s pieces of me in this room,” she then told him, “You just have to look for them.”

Ven raised an eyebrow, then moved his body so he was also looking up at her ceiling. There he saw something that had to do with what she was talking about.

“Your canopy curtains are lilac- a color you like.”

“Yep.”

Without sitting up, Ven continued to look around Sabrina room. His eyes fell to her writing desk.

“Your inkwell is empty, but you have a bottle of ink right next to it. It’s…” (he had to squint a bit to better see the bottle) “It’s that shimmery ink Ortensia buys for you because you use it a lot.”

“Hm-mm.”

Next, Ven noted that Sabrina had her door closed. He didn’t think it was that much of a surprise- it usually was closed anyway. The thing he noticed about it was the tapestry that hung there. Handwoven with frayed edges, Ven was sure he had seen it before but was only now realized it was there.

“That tapestry on your door… Is it of the statue in the Angel Caverns?”

“Naturally. Oswald commissioned the Haberdasher to make it in celebration of my first parade. It was a pretty big deal.”

Ven nodded in understanding. He was starting to see the little pieces now. Subtle but obvious- a bit like Sabrina herself.

Sabrina, meanwhile, tilted her head up a bit. There was something he wasn’t seeing yet. It was making her antsy.

“There’s also a piece of you in here, you know.”

Ven looked at her. “Don’t say it’s me actually being here.”

“You wish, you hopeless moron.”

Ven laughed, taking one more closer look around her room from the bed. He was sure at this point he was able to pick out everything. But then he took a look at the mannequin Sabrina used to test new outfits on. On it was a rather nice dress; a silky knee length number with hand applied rhinestones. It was with a jolt that Ven realized he knew the last time it had been worn.

“The mannequin. It has on that dress you wore when we-!”

“You know it.”

Ven looked over at Sabrina with widened eyes. She looked back at him with a cheeky smirk.

“I really like you, Sabrina.” Ven admitted without so much a thought to it.

“A little dumb to assume otherwise, really.” she mused with a snort. She went silent for a moment before adding, “Your influence is… hard to ignore. Often. Usually when I’m trying to focus on something else. It’s as annoying as you are.”

Ven grinned. He scooted a bit closer to her to give her upper arm a polite little peck. Sabrina shrunk a bit at the gesture. Only Ventus would be able to see her vulnerability, and he loved every moment of it.

“Does this mean I can sleep under the covers with you next time?”

The response came in way of a pillow whack to the face.

#writing #writing stuff #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #writers on tumblr #writing bingo

[spynorth]

🥇 - I think you’ve done a brilliant job with your muse.

🎯 - Your portrayal is on point!

💡 - The plot ideas you give out are amazing.

💛 - You’re a dear friend to me.

📽 - I can see your muse in your portrayal, your writing is so perfect.

🎬 - I wish your canon was actual canon.

🌟 - I love seeing you on the dash!

Positivity Meme

sasha, i could say all of these right back at you. i could spend every day telling you all of this and i still don't think i'd be able to properly articulate it or explain how deeply I mean it. You are one of my dearest friends as well and not once in the last three (holy shit. what the fuck??) years that we've known one another have I been like 'hmm not a fan of sasha'. quite the opposite actually. i've been passing out handmade fan club buttons for the last few months. you are one of my favorite people to talk and plot with because I can go from super serious downfall of lucas north and the way it affects people who know him style conversation/plotting to hey, killian is gonna try out pick up lines on james and you just roll with it. you don't even get whiplash. you're just like 'oh okay. lucas is on his bullshit again, this is fine'. I will always love and appreciate the way we can yell about muses, have serious life discussions, talk about a circus made of oranges (sometimes all in the same ten minutes) and also go maybe a month without speaking out of character really but when the other one slides back into the DMs its like 'oh hey mate. you good?'. Thanks for making dimitri even if he isn't officially on tumblr yet and for letting me give you my marketing pitch for him.

also, i think my canon should be canon too. simply because it's way more canon than fanon (cough anti apologist here cough) BUT it also has the necessary add ons like princess aurora and the fact that dimitri's godson is the son of james bond's ex lover and also currently lives with james. what a tangled web we weave. (the real question is how we are going to fit all of this into our cowboys and aliens au)

#save tag ; #positivity // #hey sasha guess what? you're amazing and i adore you. #so glad we became mutuals when we did. f ATE.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #god of mischief #fanfiction #fanfic #tom hiddleston

[terrm9]

Father’s Day

Ethan makes sure to celebrate the Father’s Day with his daughter. (Ethan X Chiara X Matilda)

Words count: 4 000

Warnings: two swear words, fluff

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened here guys. I am so sorry, this fic lacks plot and point, depth, quality, this truly is one fluffy piece of shit. I had a good feeling about it when the idea appeared in my brain and then I started to write and nothing seemed right. And I just kept telling myself ‘just keep writing and it will start making sense. It will get better’... and suddenly the fic is finished and it still doesn’t make sense. I was so close to not posting it, but then I thought that sometimes mindless fluff can make my mood better and so maybe it can do some good to you too. Love you all and I promise I won’t be angry or hurt if you hate this:D

Also Ethan is ~47 in this fic, if you thought I wouldn't mention his graying hair, I am sorry but I did

Also also, I didn't find the strength needed for a proof reading this and so I didn't proof read it. If you see a mistake, please pretend you don't see it

The sun was long set at the time Ethan stepped into the apartment and even though he rationally knew that it was late, he couldn’t quite give up on his hope that maybe Matilda was still up. On the days like this, when more patients came in than out of the hospital and there was so much of a paperwork that he has to bring it home with him, there is nothing Ethan loved more than to put his daughter to sleep and then spend a nice quiet evening with Chiara.

But of course, Matilda was fast asleep – judging by the silence filling the whole apartment – and so Ethan was looking forward to skipping to the part of sharing an evening with his wife.

Chiara didn’t notice him as he stepped into the living room, her nose slightly crinkled as she was filling some papers spread on the dining table, white earpods in her ears.

Looks like I am not the only one to bring work home with me today.

Ethan stopped in his tracks for a moment, just inhaling the familiar scent of Chiara and home and absorbing the picture in front of him. Even after alsmot ten years since he met her for the first time, even though she was his wife now, someone he woke up next to every morning, Chiara still – always – managed to knock the air out of his lungs. How her smile only gained more brightness through the years and how she looked almost like a girl with her hair braided on one side.

Had he been an artist, he would call her his muse.

But he was just a man, a doctor with any artistic words stuck in his throat and so he just kept staring at Chiara and thought, inspiration, that’s what she was, because even the most rational of men could get inspired.

„I can feel you standing there,“ Chiara exclaimed suddenly, putting the earpods off and turning to him with that bright smile.

„My apologies,“ he smiled faintly and crossed the distance between them to give her, what Chiara called ‚a proper greeting‘. He kissed her softly and it only took the feeling of Chiara’s warm body under his hands to ease the tension in him almost completely.

„Matilda missed you tonight,“ Chiara murmured into his chest, not willing to break their embrance.

„As I missed her,“ Ethan sighed. „Did you have an eventful afternoon?“

Chiara chuckled at that, parting from him at last to switch her phone off and leave the work on the dining table.

„Just the usual. The teacher asked them to draw themselves in the future and she couldn’t decide which version of that future she should draw because she wants to be everything.“

Ethan could imagine the conversation very well. Matilda, at the age of five, knew exactly what she didn't want to become when she grows up - a doctor. She kept shifting between wishing to be a travel blogger like her aunt Kyra or a photographer like aunt Alicia. After a weekend spent in Providence, she proclaimed that she could also imagine being a cable repairwoman like grandpa, because grandpa has the coolest coworkers that came over and let her eat chocolate cookies and watch football with them. And if by any unfortunate coincidence she should become a doctor after all, she would definitely be a surgeon like uncle Bryce, because he actually cuts people and that's much more interesting than her parents' job. All they do is talk about the patients.

„I promised her you would take her to school tomorrow. You have rounds in the morning but I can taker over,“ which would only be a service for you, she thought to herself. „That would certainly make her feel better.“

„Was she that sad that I didn’t come home earlier?“

"Oh, she was more sad about the Father's Day program at her school – you know, the one where kids and their dads go together - but I explained her why you had to miss it."

Ethan furrowed his brows, confused for a while.

"Why do I have to miss it?" he asked as he picked Matilda's stuffed llama from the floor.

"It's the Wednesday when you are at the conference in Seattle."

Ethan put the toy on the couch next to Til's favourite blanket and sat down before responding, his voice carrying no sign of hesitation.

"If there's a Father's Day program at her school and she wants me to be there, I'll be there."

Ethan knew all too well why he was so persistent on being there.

He wished he didn’t know, but he did.

Because he knew what it felt like to spend so many of his Mother’s Days programms with his teeth gritted, wishing it could all just end.

He could still remember the first Mother’s Day without Luise, how his teacher walked into the class and told them that they would create nice postcards for their moms and how Ethan’s classmate pointed his finger at him and said: „And what is Ramsey going to do? It’s not fair that he doesn’t need to do anything for the whole hour.“

It was the first time Ethan punched someone.

There was no way, no way, that he would allow his daughter to feel any of those feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chiara, now sitting right next to him, a soft concern visible on her features.

„Alan and Naveen would go with her, you know. She wouldn’t be alone.“

„I am her father.“

„And you are also an author of the study this whole conference is going to be about.“

Ethan knew Chiara was right, just as he knew that she was doing this not because she didn’t want him to attend the programm, rather because she respected and supported his career.

But her arguments were of no use. Ethan’s mind was made up and he only wondered if this is what it felt like, all those years ago, when he pushed Chiara away in order to support her career. The idea of putting career first was making him uncomfortable and all he could do was to think, how did Chiara see it all those years ago?

Or rather, how did he not see it back then?

He had no answers, only his gratitude that she stayed and showed him the world through her eyes.

„Aurora is just as much of an author as me. She can handle the conference without me just fine. You can go with her.“

„Me?“ Chiara asked incredulously.

„Sure. They don’t really care which Dr. Ramsey will come.“

Ethan aged well. More wrinkles circled the corners of his eyes and the grey hair on his temples were not an optical illusion anymore (and Chiara has never found him more handsome than now) and his gaze changed too, the cold blue of his eyes almost forgotten, as his eyes were warm and soft almost all the time he was with his family.

Ethan aged and changed and yet there was a thing that didn’t change in the slightest in these last years. His insufferable stubborness.

And so Chiara knew that he won’t change his mind and that there was no point in trying to and while it warmed her heart to see how in love with Matilda Ethan was, the study was important to him.

Obviously not important enough, however, and Chiara decided not to push him any further. Instead, she asked curiously.

„And what are you going to perform? What if Matilda wants to do something crazy?" Chiara raised an eyebrow.

"Of course she won't want anything crazy. What if it were my father and Naveen taking her?"

Chiara laughed wholeheartedly at his question, because for someone so brilliant, sometimes Ethan was desperately clueless when it came to people around him - and what they were willing to do for their daughter.

"Please, this is Naveen and Alan you are talking about. Matilda could say she wants to sing Hakuna Matata and they would come dressed as Timon and Pumba."

"Ah," Ethan exhaled, obviously only now realizing that Chiara was, indeed, right. And singing - or dancing, for God's sake - was not part of his plan. "Well, she can play some basic compound on the piano, she has learned some already. And I could accompany her on the cello."

Chiara choked on the water she was just drinking, turning to look at Ethan so swiftly, his brows furrowed in a concern for her neck.

"On a what now?"

“A cello. I thought you knew that I used to play the cello as a kid.”

“Of course, but the as a kid part is important. I mean, I played a piano as a kid and now I couldn’t play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star if my life depended on it.”

Ethan laughed, wrapping his arm around Chiara in a half-hug and had to bite his tongue not to tell her that maybe Matilda could teach her, as she already could play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star exceptionally well.

“I might have stopped playing actively when I was ten, but I found a certain sense of serenity in music – and playing – for a long time after that. I-,” Ethan stopped himself, mulling over his next words. It was not like he didn’t want to tell Chiara anything, but talking about his years at med school was not something he did often. “I befriended a music shop’s owner back in Baltimore. He was a nice guy, barely older than me and so very different. He had musical instruments for sale there and as we became closer, he let me borrow the cello and play a little in the back of the shop. It became a thing that helped me clear my head when school became too stressful and it also helped me not to forget how to play. I think Matilda’s level on the piano is very close to what I can remember with the cello.”

Now all he had to do was to find someone who would borrow him the cello.

*** *** ***

Ethan always found it amusing, how his mornings with Matilda differed compared to Matilda’s mornings with Chiara.

He made sure to wake her up earlier than usual, so that they could cook breakfast together and have some time to spare.

Chiara – the person that hated mornings more than eggplants – did all she could to stay in bed for as long as possible. She would rather prepare Matilda’s breakfast in the evening and run to the school than wake up before 6 AM.

And it seemed like Matilda realized this difference quite soon, for all the times Ethan came to wake her up, she knew she could ask him to join her in bed for a few minutes.

"Hey, little Rookie," Ethan whispered, softly stroking Matilda's curls out of her forehead so that he could press a gentle kiss on it. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

The little Rookie nickname was first used when Til was perhaps one year old and it made her giggle so hard Ethan kept using it. Chiara found it extremely funny, always pointing out that Matilda was nothing if not Ethan’s exact copy – and she was right. With her big blue eyes and long curly dark hair, there was no doubt that she was Ethan’s daughter. Not that the similarities ended in her physical appearence – she was phenomenally subborn for a five year old (to which Ethan always argued that she could as well inherit that from Chiara) and sarcasm was her second language. She also might have used ‚fuck‘ once or twice and Ethan knew it’s not Chiara she heard that from.

You should call her little Terminator, Chiara always teased and partly, she was right.

But there were many traits and marks of Chiara in their daughter, marks not so visible but unmistakely hers. How Matilda’s smile was always bright and warm and sincere, something only Chiara could pass on. How she came home one day from school and asked Ethan if he could make cupcakes with her, because her classmate loves cupcakes but his parents are too busy to make them for him and so she would love to bring him some to school. How she appreciated the most common of things, like sun shining because it makes her skin warm and also rain falling because she can jump in the puddles. Her genuine curiosity and open heart and just her general need to make people around her feel good.

That was all Chiara’s mark and Ethan loved his two girls so much it sometimes still surprised him. That he was capable of such love.

It also made him want more sometimes. More people to love that much.

„Snuggle time, please?“ Matilda smiled, her eyes still closed and Ethan was prepared, he knew this request would come and so he didn’t even need to check the watch to know that he could lay down next to her, the tiny bed making his position rather awkward.

He snuggled Matilda from behind and between her slow stirs as she began to wake up and his soft kisses put on the back of her head, he whispered how excited he was to attend the Father’s Day program with her.

*** *** ***

Ethan didn’t even need to try hard to persuade Matilda that a piano-cello duet would be better to perform than a dance. She liked the idea from the beginning and after going through her music sheets with Chiara, she happily exclaimed that they could try to learn Hedwig’s Theme together. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement and Ethan knew the decision was already made, because he couldn’t resist that face.

And so they performed and for a girl who was five and her father, who was almost fifty, they did a great job. Seeing Matilda’s pure, unadultered joy and excitement and so much gratitude that her dad could be there with here, was something Ethan would consider one of the best moments of his life forever.

Tillie was almost jumping up and down with the happiness as they watched her classmates and their fathers or grandfathers or mothers in some cases or maybe even uncles perform their numbers. She was clapping hard after every single one and she kept waving at everyone, her smile so wide Ethan thought for a while that she resembled Bryce more than anyone. The thought made him chuckle, because Matilda would love to hear that, as Bryce was her hero and possibly the best person she could spend her sleepovers at.

Ethan could hardly say that he enjoyed being surrounded by so many people, but he sincerely did enjoy spending the day with his kid. He didn’t regret choosing making a fool out of himself in front of bunch of kids instead of the conference. He almost forgot about the conference altogether until Aurora’s call interrupted the bustle full of laughter around them.

She only called him to let him know that all went well and she was off to have a lunch with other diagnosticians that helped with the study.

"Yes, alright. I'll see you on Monday. Good job, Aurora," Ethan put the phone back into his pocket and turned to Matilda.

"I am sorry you missed the conference because of me, dad."

Ethan knelt down so that he could face his daughter, the very same blue eyes he knew from mirrors, looking back at him, wide and curious.

He smiled softly, kissing Matilda's forehead before responding.

"I am not. No conference is that important, and just between the two of us," Ethan lowered his voice and put his best serious face on, causing the mischievous sparks ignite in Tillie's eyes "Conferences are so boring. You saved me from a torture."

She giggled and threw her arms around Ethan's neck, squeezing him as hard as a five years old could.

"Now let's go, I think there's an ice cream that needs to be eaten."

"But daddy you said ice creams are sugar bomb!"

Ethan chuckled at her shocked expression - not sure is it was a genuine one or an act - and took her little hand into his.

"I'll pretend I don't see you eating it."

Matilda squealed and before her ‚no sugar in this house‘ dad could change his mind, she stormed off in the direction of the ice cream truck.

Before she could reach her destination, however, she stopped in her tracks and tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, pointing at the little girl sitting under one of the trees – alone.

„That’s Dorothy! She is my best friend.“

Yes, Ethan remembered Matilda mentioning Dorsey, her best friend, quite often, but he never got a chance to meet her before. The girl was tiny, much smaller than Matilda – which inherited Ethan’s significant height, too – her hair almost white and her eyes similar to Matilda’s, big and blue but not even close to being as bright.

„She doesn’t have a dad,“ Matilda added, her voice much less excited now. „She didn’t want to come here but her mom has to be at work.“

Ethan’s heart tightened at her words, the description of Dorothy’s situation reminding him of his own when he was a kid way too much.

„Why don’t you go and ask her to join us for an ice cream?“ Ethan smiled at Matilda faintly.

Before he could as much as blink, Matilda was gone and in the very next moment, both girls were back, smiling up at him, his own kid widely and Dorothy very shyly.

„Hello, Dorothy,“ Ethan knelt down and smiled at her encouragingly. „I am Ethan. It is my pleasure to meet you, Matilda talks about you a lot.“

„Hello,“ Dorothy muttered, not meeting his eyes and Ethan noticed she was holding Matilda’s hand.

Without any other word, he stood up and led both girls to find an ice cream truck, only half-listening to what they were talking about – enough to recognize that Dorothy was much more open when talking to Matilda, but not enough to register particular words.

Maybe that’s why Matilda’s next question took him off the guard.

„Right, daddy? I was just telling Dorsey that you could be her dad, right? And I would be her sister!“

Ethan’s eyes widened and before he could find the right words – gentle but also firm enough to explain that that’s not exactly how these things work, Matilda spoke again.

„She could come over anytime and we could have sleepovers like the ones I have with uncle Bryce or grandpa and we would play together and I could borrow her my toys, right?“

Ethan nodded and smiled, of course Dorothy is always welcome to stay at our place, and let the topic go, because there was nothing wrong about his daughter having best friend that would come over.

Thirty minutes later, all three of them sat at the grass and ate their ice creams and it was easy to forget the previous converstaions.

*** *** ***

Until he came into his office, a week after the Father’s Day and found Chiara waiting for him, her arms crossed at her chest and her expression unusually stoic.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Chiara spoke.

„Matilda’s teacher just called.“

„What?“ Ethan stepped closer, automatically reaching into his pocket to make sure his phone, wallet and car keys are there and he is ready to leave and pick up Matilda at any moment. „Is something wrong? Is she in trouble? Sick?“

„She is absolutely alright,“ Chiara shook her head sligthly, her face unreadable – something that scared Ethan more than her visible anger. „She just called me to let me know about the rumors going around Matilda’s class these past few days. She thought it would be better if I found out from her rather than from other parents.“

„Rumors?“ Ethan asked, utterly lost and confused.

It took all the willpower Chiara had not to let her facade slip and keep her expression neutral. But teasing Ethan was one of her main hobbies, even after ten years, and so she tried her best.

„Apparently, Matilda and Dorothy Wilkins told everyone that they are in fact sisters. They have different mommies but the same dad – no other than the famous Dr. Ramsey,“ now, it was really hard not to laugh. Ethan’s whole face paled and the confusion was quickly replaced by recognition. „The other kids shared the news with their parents and now those parents talk.“

Ethan didn’t know that Matilda told Chiara about her idea of Ethan becoming Dorothy’s dad the very same evening she shared it with Ethan himself and even though Chiara tried to explain why that idea is not going to work the way the wished it would, Matilda was stubborn. Meaning, Matilda adopted Dorothy as her sister anyway and didn’t mind sharing her dad with her.

„Fuck,“ Ethan whispered, pacing around the office, not really looking up at Chiara.

If he did, he would catch her grinning.

She cleared her throat quickly and added: „Some of the parents came to tell the poor teacher that they appreciate how civil the mothers of Matilda and Dorothy are about the whole thing and that it must’ve taken much strength of our spirits to put out kids into same school.“

She couldn’t anymore. The first chuckle escaped her and when Ethan’s eyes met hers, the mischievous sparks were dancing on full display in her irises, her smile wide and so amused.

Ethan exhaled a sigh full of relief and rolled his eyes and when he looked at Chiara again, she was laughing softly, badly trying to cover her laugh with the hand over her mouth.

The bizarreness of the whole situation and his wife’s reaction made Ethan laugh too and he slumped down on the couch, pulling Chiara with him.

„We should give some kind of explanation, right?“ he whispered when they both calmed down.

„Oh, I don’t know. I am the civil one,“ Chiara smirked smugly. „And with a strong spirit!“

Ethan laughed again at that, thinking about how any kind of rumors about him and Chiara startled him in the beginning of their relationship and how over the years, Chiara managed to teach him to just let people talk.

„She really wants that sibling, huh?“ Chiara broke the silence, poking his side softly.

„Yes, she does,“ Ethan nodded.

„And you would...want that too, right?“ Chiara asked again, this time much more seriousness in her voice.

Both Chiara and Ethan were decided to adopt a child back in the days they believed they would never have their own. After Matilda was born, they didn’t really talk about it anymore – they felt too blessed, too lucky that they’ve gotten her and they were happy.

But the thoughts of adoption never truly left their heads and Chiara knew that especially Ethan considered the option often. She could see him talking to Matilda when she asked for a sister or a brother for her birthday, she saw the dreamy smile as they spoke about little kids.

And it was not like she was against the idea of adopting a child – quite the opposite. She grew up with two siblings and her brother and sister were one of the best parts of her childhood. She wished she could give Matilda the same feeling, the same love she recieved at her age. She just felt like she would be asking for too much, like it would be selfish to want another little human that would make them happy, when they already had one.

Those thoughts were not rational, but they were there and they slowed her decisions down.

„Yes, I would,“ Ethan nodded after a long while, looking straight into Chiara’s eyes.

He would never push her. But he wouldn’t lie either.

Chiara nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss on Ethan’s mouth, pouring her emotions into it, her excitement with the idea just as strong as her anxiety.

Deep down, she knew that the decision has just been made. That no matter how openly they talked about it or expressed themselves, all three Ramseys wished to share their love and happiness with another soul.

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x matilda

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

VelvetCardiganBucky’s To Infinity Writing Challenge

In celebration of me hitting 500 followers I thought why not do a writing challenge? I can’t thank you all enough for getting me to 500, it’s been a dream come true. 💗

✨dividers by @firefly-graphics✨

Guidelines:

You do NOT have to be following me to enter, but you MUST BE 18+ to enter.

You can do dark theme and dub-con but I will not accept pedophila, incest, age-play, or piss play. Please tag your works with warnings.

You can use any Marvel character, any characters that were played by Henry Cavill, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans, Jon Bernthal, Charlie Hunnam, Garrett Hedlund and combination of characters x OC/Reader

Word Limit Is: 300 Words Minimum — Series, Moodboard, Playlist, Fanart, Fanvid, are also welcome.

Message me in the ask box with what prompt you want. Limit 2 people per prompt, and song, but unlimited for AU’s. You may combine AU’s with song and prompt.

More prompts and songs can be added if needed.

Make sure in your authors note you have what you chose for your prompt, song, au. Thank you!

Theme: Use the word Infinity in some way in your work. Ex: “infinity and beyond” “I love you times infinity.” “there’s an infinite amount of ways to describe how I feel.”

Tag me in your works and use the #VelvetCardiganBuckyToInfinity If I haven’t reblogged your work within 48 hours please message me.

If there is an AU not on the list you wish to write for or you have any questions please feel free to message me.

Due Date: Nada, do it at your own pace.

Have Fun!

Prompts:

This is the story of how I died, but don’t worry I came back!

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw her/him, I was happy, but something seemed off. “I thought you were dead.” “I am dead.” She/He retorted.

He knew it would end this way, there was no other way for it to end, but somehow he’d tricked himself into believing he wouldn’t be alone after all this, “I- I don’t think I’m ready for you to leave me just yet. Not like this.” – @a-cure-for-writers-block

“You’ll never love me like you loved her. I know that now.” – @a-cure-for-writers-block

“Have you ever fallen in love?” “Five times a day.” — Boy Meets World (@groupieforbucky & 80’s AU)

“How hard do you want it?” (@bbonkyy)

“You could never make it easy could you?” (@bestofbucky w/ Prompt 9)

“I’ll wait here no matter how long it takes for you to realize…” (@lilulo-12)

“Whatever happens tomorrow we have today.” — One Day (Movie) (@bestofbucky w/ Prompt 7)

“I’m also just a girl standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.” — Notting Hill (Movie) (@kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay w/ Mob!AU)

“Well it all started at a strip club.” “Why do all your stories involve a strip club?” “Because stripping is a job and those ladies and gents deserve some well earned recognition..”

“We accept the love we think we deserve.” — Perks of Being a Wallflower (@buckyswinterbaby w/ Bucky Barnes x OFC!Zara & Afterglow by Ed Sheeran)

“A sky full of stars was awaiting her.” (@fuel-joy w/ the song Heaven by Beyoncé)

“Leave the past where it belongs.” (@mostly-marvel-musings w/ coffee shop au)

And when my time is up have I accomplished anything worthy of having my story being told? If so, who will tell it? Who will listen? (@nekoannie-chan)

In the beginning of time...

The End

Songs:

Once Upon A Time by SHAED

Brother, How Was The War? by The Airborne Toxic Event

Afterglow by Ed Sheeran ( @buckyswinterbaby w/ Bucky Barnes x OFC!Zara & Prompt 12)

driver’s license by Olivia Rodrigo

TALK ME DOWN by Troye Sivan (@subtlebucky w/ Valkyrie)

I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden (@averyrogers83)

Thank U by AURORA

Bloodstained Heart by Darren Hayes

Cover Me In Sunshine by P!nk & Willow Sage Hart

Dear August by PJ Harding & Noah Cyrus

Remember The Night? by Sara Kays

The Lighthouse Keeper by Sam Smith

Glósóli by Sigur Rós

Home by Noah Gundersen

Revelator Eyes by The Paper Kites

Heaven by Beyoncé (@fuel-joy w/ Prompt #13)

i love you, i love you by JUNG

füćk, i’m lonely by LAUV & Anne-Marie

Till There’s Nothing Left by Cam

Toss A Coin To Your Witcher by Sonya Belousova, Giona Ostinelli, & Joey Batey

Only Words by Paper Route

AU’s:

Mythology AU

Titanic AU

Mob AU

Arranged Marriage AU

Gilmore Girls AU

Royalty AU

Medical AU

Rockstar/Musicians AU

Hogwarts AU

Musical AU

Disney AU

Vikings AU

Biker AU (@stargazingfangirl18 Steve Rogers)

Fairytale AU

Soulmate AU

Cop/Detective AU

C.E.O AU

Zombie Apocalypse AU

Prison AU

Porn Star AU

Hunger Games AU

Vampire AU

Time Travel AU

80’s AU

A/B/O AU

Coffee Shop AU

Florist AU

Tattoo Artist AU

#mcu writing challenge #writing challenge #chris evans #sebastian stan #charlie hunnam #henry cavill #garrett hedlund #mcu #marvel #writing prompts #writing prompt #songs #au’s #alternative au #alternative universe #bucky barnes #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #august walker #jax teller #frank adler #lee bodecker #andy barber #frank castle #ari levinson #destroyer!chris #jon bernthal #sam wilson #VelvetCardiganBuckyToInfinity

[inscribed-in-asteroids]

AN: Took a while but here’s chapter six! Make sure to reblog and like, or leave comments and kudos on AO3, which is still the best place to read it.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Characters: Hordak and Entrapta, feat. Glimmer, Bow, Aurora and Eon (OCs)

Rating: M (for smut)

                                            Repairing Harm Done

Hordak walks through the center of their new home away from home. Entrapta and he share their enjoyment of space, and going on adventures with her has been some of the greatest years of his life; however, Beast Island has been transformed into a multicultural landscape, where anyone could come here if they wanted, and stay here if they chose. While Odessa has been away with her friends, they opted to expand the lodgings here to accommodate growing numbers. Talon and he weren’t the only ones with children, and even without offspring, his siblings were finding life partners, and to add on top of that, visitors from nearby planets come to Etheria as well and, sometimes, like it so much they wish to remain.

Upon this realization, they made an organization to discuss blueprints, schedules and funding for such a project. The funding was no issue: Glimmer and Bow were more than happy to aid them, and have visited the island several times now to see what else was needed. It wasn’t necessarily money they needed, either, as everything on Beast Island was based on a trade system and very loosely; they have utilized the technology on the island well, and created elaborate new machines for daily living. Glimmer and Bow, simply put, love being involved. They offer their expertise, Bow on his own inventions and Glimmer with her magic, but they were enthusiastic to be present at all.

He notes his brothers above him in the trees, connecting large trunks with man-made bridges, where a community of apartments will be launched high above them. The groves are to be interconnected this way, allowing for more freedom of development and making use of every inch of the island, eventually establishing long pathways that will join all shores of the island. This will be the new dwelling place for many of the citizens on Beast Island, while the area he’s moving through will serve as the marketplace, with recreational centers, hospitals, schools and restaurants lined throughout the ground floor. They have been constructing it for a while, but high demand has allowed for a speedier process to take place. Underground it will be primarily used for laboratories, as he and Odessa have the largest ones. It’s also their excavation site for First Ones tech, which they still continue to find more than twenty years later, the deeper into the earth they go; it’ll also serve as their mausoleum, for when those days come.

Animals chirp in the branches, shadows moving along his frame. Looking up, he meets the eyes of his brothers hammering boards into place, and they wave down at him. Being in a good mood, he waves back—

A sharp pang goes up his shoulder. Wincing in surprise, Hordak holds his hand up for a moment. Confused, he shakes off the sensation and continues toward the direction of his residence. Opening the door, Hordak steps inside.

“Entrapta? I’ve returned,” Hordak announces.

No answer.

She must be out. Maybe he’ll go check up on Emily and Imp. The latter has been growing, which came as a surprise to everyone. No one believed Imp could actually get bigger. It’s about the time Imp needs to have tests run to check if he’s still healthy as his body develops, Hordak muses, beginning to climb up the steps—

His legs suddenly lock, and they buckle, causing him to sprawl on the floor. His palms and knees slam into the hard stone, sending waves of pain up his frame. Another shortly follows, stabbing through his body. And it’s never one type of stab—it’s sharp, a knife slashing through; or painfully dull, akin to being jabbed with a worn, flat spear. It may not cut, but it’s relentless. And he can’t ever tell which is worse.

Trying to stand, he finds himself unable to. He pushes up with his hands, and the pain stings up his nerves, all the way to his neck.

Hordak lets out a breath of shock, of anger, of fear.

No.

No no no no no no no—

He looks down at his hands, and the color recedes—the blue drains, melting from elbow down, streaks forming along his wrist, and he can feel them weaken at the shoulder.

Hordak yells out loud, hunched over from the agony, watching as his forearms split in two without warning right down the middle until they’re merely the width of bone within the muscles thinning blood flow slowing unable to move or feel or sense or know why—

Hordak lets out a cry of shock, jolting himself up. Breathing hard, he turns to his right. Moonlight cuts through the dark of his bedroom, the blinds never being tightly sealed enough for his liking. But for once, he’s relieved to see it.

His head falls into his hands, and he breathes in. Breathes out. He withdraws to look at them. His forearms show no signs of disease, stark in the dim room. His shoulders move as they should, and he rotates them to be sure. He claws the air with his fingers, two quick movements. Then he lets them go toward his palm, slowly, pinky first as the rest follow, moving in synchronicity. He repeats this motion four more times, and none of them hurt.

Entrapta shifts beside him, her arm reaching out for his body. Automatic. When she finds only the pillow, Entrapta opens her eyes. She props herself up on an elbow, reaching out to touch her husband.

“Hordak? Are you okay?”

Blinking, Hordak turns to look at her. Her hair is loose about her body, draping across her shoulders in long strands. She doesn’t wear clothes to bed, finding it more comfortable. She followed his example on that one. After decades of being in pain, he didn’t want to be constricted as he slept. It reminded him too much of how often he had to be bound in place by something or another to keep from falling apart. His body was attached by sinew and muscle, like anyone else, but it never felt like that. It always felt like one small gesture would render him incapacitated, and his shoulders would fall from their sockets.

Entrapta sits up, touching the small of his back, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Hordak sighs, “I… did.”

Entrapta brushes the side of his face, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hordak reaches up to take her hand in his, “It… It was the usual dream.”

Sidling next to him, Entrapta lays her head on his shoulder, “I know. It’s scary.”

He lets out a breath, unable to disagree. Adora had fixed him, permanently, in that other lifetime. Horde Prime wouldn’t allow something defective in his midst, so his body had been healed at the expense of his mind’s free will. But when Adora expelled Prime out, he was released from the confines of both mental and physical anguish.

He knows this.

His body has not known that pain in many, many years.

But there are days when he’s walking, sitting, breathing, and his thoughts turn to anxiety. Anxiety about the day, the moment, when his body will fail him again. He exercises every day, relishing in the activity he had been denied. The strength and power and agility that he long forgot about and wishes to keep. He makes sure to have that routine set out for himself, to have those thoughts at bay, to stop worrying him. He recalls how nervous he’d been when Odessa had been born—to have his daughter in his arms, and he would panic about the pain coming back and he can’t grab her in time before she collapses onto the floor and she dies. In a second, just like that.

Pulling his knees up, Hordak stretches his arms out onto them, giving a heavy sigh.

Entrapta rotates a bit, brushing his hair out.

“Entrapta?”

“Yes?”

“Can you check?”

Without further question, Entrapta moves forward, inspecting his back first. She notes the perfect coloration of his body, from neck to fingertip. Drawing aside the covers, she makes similar mental notes from his hips down to his feet. She looks up at him, smiling, “You’ve never looked better!”

Hordak sighs, relieved.

Entrapta lays her cheek on his forearm, “And I do mean that.”

He meets her eyes, and she wiggles her eyebrows.

Hordak laughs, allowing the anxiety to leave him, “You’re a pervert.”

Entrapta’s grin widens, “Can you blame me?”

Hordak leans forward to kiss her forehead. And she tilts her head back so their mouths can touch. Her hand caresses the side of his cheek, and he relaxes.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispers, after a good while.

“Don’t worry about it,” Entrapta says. She pushes him onto his back, brushing her thumb along his mouth. “You’re not alone, you know.”

Hordak nods, staring up at the ceiling. Entrapta lays next to him, and she taps her chest.

Without a word, he turns, burying his face into her collarbone. Warm and inviting.

Her hands play with his hair, humming quietly. Stroking her fingertips down his neck, careful of the port located there. Entrapta doesn’t stop until he’s taking measured breaths, long and deep; once he does, only then does she fall back asleep.

                                                              -

Hordak steps out into the bright outdoors. Everything is in place. From the new construction in the trees, to the bustling shoppers around him, and, below, he knows Imp and Emily are taking ownership of Odessa’s lab while she’s away, as they tend to when she’s absent. Her friends are missed as well, and he will admit to himself, it’s good for her to have them.

Tristan’s general apathy tends to keep him anchored, but it lifts away as soon as he knows she’s back home, becoming more involved and energetic. Hydrangea’s eagerness to keep peace always stays in place, but she defers to Odessa’s knowledge and skill more often than with anyone else. Hordak knows that there could be no better allies to his daughter than those two.

They’ve been her friends since childhood, and they gravitated toward one another in a manner he found interesting. Despite being born a clone, he knows who he is, and he tends to keep to himself, save for Entrapta’s presence. His brothers tend to be more gregarious, which baffled him at first on how willing they were to interact with Etherians, and he surmised that, even among replicas, he stands out as incredibly reclusive. There are a few who took to his more stern and introverted nature, of course, he isn’t unique to averting social events, but he continues to have the shortest temper, if pushed enough, and is withdrawn. Talon is one of those individuals to match it, as he tends to be around his wife alone, but he doesn’t mind the spotlight, and that’s their difference.

Hordak’s gotten better at being around others, but he finds it exhausting after a while. Entrapta says that’s okay, and she wouldn’t change that about him and has outright stated to prefer it. Large groups are only ‘fun’ to watch, not be part of.

Odessa, meanwhile, enjoyed company, and Tristan was the first person she brought home. Hydrangea and Odessa liked each other very much, which delighted Entrapta and Scorpia; however, Tristan’s addition caught them by surprise. Mermista wasn’t the warmest woman when it came to who associated with her son. Hordak knows that his actions from the past were to blame, but she hasn’t done anything to damage his child’s relationship with her companion, so he says nothing.

Hydrangea’s mother, Perfuma, is no different, though she tends to have a lenient grip. Which he knows is due to her bohemian attitude, rather than an acceptance of Odessa. She wouldn’t stifle her child, as she has asserted that children should be allowed to do as they please and grow up how they will. It’s not a sentiment he disagrees with—he gave Odessa all the freedom she wanted. Entrapta was the one to spoil her, and he took on the disciplinarian role, for when it needed to be done, but overall, he and his wife encouraged Odessa’s desire to do what she wanted. Sometimes, her strong personality could be overpowering for others, but she’s not a bad person.

Despite what others may think.

“How are you doing, hon?” Entrapta asks, getting up to his level.

“I’m doing fine,” he responds. “Did you need something from me?”

“No,” Entrapta smiles. “You always ask that.”

“Ask what?”

“If people need something from you.”

He pauses in his tracks, “Do I?”

“You usually ask that when I’m looking at you, or wondering how you are,” Entrapta states. “And when I say people, I mean just me. You don’t do it with others.”

Hordak looks at the ground, silent.

“That’s not a problem, Hordak! It’s an observation,” Entrapta assures him.

He doesn’t question it further, for now.

“Oh, hi, guys!” Entrapta says.

Hordak faces behind him, finding Glimmer and Bow waving at him. For a flash of a second, he’s stricken with concern, but remembers that they’re supposed to be here today. That must be why they were in his dream, and it has nothing to do with premonitions of impending doom.

“Hey! Hope we’re not late,” Bow says.

“You’re right on time!” Entrapta replies.

Glimmer smiles, “Good! I hope you don’t mind—we brought Aurora today.”

Hordak looks past them, their daughter standing near the portal. Utterly disinterested. Without thinking, he says to Glimmer, “Was it wise to bring her?”

She looks at him, surprised, before waving her hand and laughing, “Oh, Hordak, she’s fine! She’s a big girl. Aurora, come here please!”

Aurora’s expression belies her unwillingness to be present, a polite smile on her face.

He doesn’t want to be rude— Well, that’s not true, he wants to be rude. It just isn’t prudent. Aurora isn’t a person who tends to be engrossed in what’s going outside of her social circle.

Glimmer looks up at Hordak, “I brought her because as future queen, she needs to participate in what’s happening throughout Etheria. You and I are working on this together, so I figured she would benefit from learning how things work with other kingdoms outside of a council meeting!”

Hordak nods in understanding. Makes sense.

Entrapta looks at Aurora, “Hello!”

“Thank you for welcoming me,” Aurora curtsies.

“What’s first on the agenda?” Bow asks.

Entrapta laughs, “We’ll go up into the trees first! We’ve designed a mode of transportation that takes us all to the top!”

Hordak silently walks behind the group. Entrapta leads them to a lift that operates when people enter into the rectangular container, made of nearby materials, predominantly the wood and bark of trees, as they’re the sturdiest thing at the moment. It’s in its rudimentary stage, Entrapta explains, and hopefully it will be changed into solid metal soon, since they didn’t want to waste resources at once. They had to see if it worked first, and they needed to design a glass case to hold it. All of them are elevated toward the top, allowing them a view of everything below.

Glimmer looks over the side of the box, “Wow, where did you come up with the idea?”

“Remember Horde Prime’s ship? He had this sort of thing aboard. We figured it would help get people around easier,” Entrapta says.

“So, you took the contraption of someone deplorable and used it for yourself?” Aurora asks.

“Yep!” Entrapta says.

Glimmer stares at her child, and Bow’s brows rise an inch.

Hordak’s arms remain folded, glaring at the back of Aurora’s head. Not liking her tone.

She doesn’t approve of it. And while he may not like owing Prime anything, it isn’t conducive to advancement as a group to ignore advantages simply because it came from a heinous individual. Good people have bad ideas, and bad people have good ideas, it depends on how it’s used.

“I don’t see how this is sensible of your time,” Aurora says.

Entrapta laughs, “Not everyone can teleport like you and your mom! We have people who can’t jump and climb the way we can.”

Aurora gives a delicate sniff, unimpressed with the explanation.

Glimmer claps her hands together, “Well, I think it’s a phenomenal idea. Prime was a monster, but his ship was incredible.”

“Mama—” Aurora begins.

Bow points at the distant grove, “Oh, look, pookas! Aurora, these were the animals that I met with Adora while looking for Entrapta.”

“The very things that would’ve eaten you all, and my grandpa, alive. You don’t say,” Aurora dryly answers.

“They’re friendly now!” Entrapta corrects, hair morphing into a hand with a forefinger pointed up.

Aurora grimaces when a pooka chitters at her, stepping away.

Hordak comes forward, unable to deal with it any longer, “Perhaps, it would be better for Aurora if she went and explored on her own. There is a plethora of activity in the market, and the main thing we would all be discussing is infrastructure.”

Bow turns to him, “Oh, I don’t think it’s necessary for her to leave.”

Glimmer nods, his suggestion more than welcome, “Actually, he might be right. Sweetie, why don’t you go down and check things out?”

“Thank you, I will,” Aurora says, giving another polite smile. With that, she teleports to the ground.

Entrapta yells over the side, “Byyyeeee!”

Bow and Glimmer share a long glance at one another. Aurora is a pleasant young woman, and now at eighteen, she should be engaging with more outside of Bright Moon. Neither Glimmer or Bow could imagine not wanting to go out of their comfort zone, whether it’s irritating or boring. But Aurora had never been quite as easy with ventures toward the unfamiliar.

Aurora is a creature of habit and routine, so she tends to stick with people that she knows, which is why they gave Marlena and Clawdeen the day off, both to allow Aurora to expand her horizons on her own, while giving their goddaughters well-deserved rest. Adora and Catra serve, too, as Aurora’s respective godparents, for they had all promised to be the guardians of each other’s children. And it’s why they decided, when Aurora asked if she could visit her extended family on the outskirts of the Whispering Woods, they pushed her to join them on this trip to Beast Island.

Aurora’s behavior since arrival was troubling Glimmer; she’s sure it wasn’t obvious, but her daughter radiated displeasure. Aurora is normally so genteel, with impeccable manners, which were inherited from Angella, and nurtured more by Bow and his relatives. Glimmer, even as she gets older, could never get rid of her fire to engage with every little aspect of life as much as she could. There was so much to do and see and experience, and she likes to believe that Aurora’s the same, even with her personality being softer than her own: mellow, caring, even shy. She knows her daughter is a good person.

Everyone always says so.

Bow and Entrapta have gone ahead, chatting animatedly about inventions and the latest in revolutionary designs. Addressing Hordak, Glimmer murmurs, “I’m sorry about Aurora.”

Hordak looks at her, “I don’t see the need for an apology. She doesn’t have to hide her disdain.”

Glimmer pokes him lightly in the arm, teasing, “Why? Because you’re the same?”

“Exactly,” Hordak replies, giving a light chuckle.

Sighing, she holds up her face with her hand, “Still, I don’t know why she’s upset today. I know kids don’t like to be with their parents after a certain age, and want to be with their friends—I was definitely that way—but I thought maybe she would have fun, you know? Engaging with the people, the mix of culture. Beast Island is so grand now!”

“I’m glad to hear you approve of what we’ve accomplished thus far,” Hordak says.

“That lift contraption is useful, but nothing will ever overshadow the day we got indoor plumbing in the palace.”

Hordak smiles, letting himself relax in the easy conversation.

                                                              -

Aurora walks through the throng of individuals bustling around. She didn’t expect so… many clones. She knows this is one preferred habitation, along with the kingdom of Dryl, and they are sporadic in other parts of Etheria. But to have so many of them present is a sight to behold.

She doesn’t approach any of the shops, but watches closely. Etherians, too, are wandering from stall to stall, store to store, and she ponders why any of these citizens would want to leave their kingdoms. Do their leaders not provide enough for them that they feel the need to come to a place still in development? She has heard of Beast Island’s many, many changes from childhood to adulthood, but she doesn’t see the appeal of coming to a location that isn’t as established as the rest of Etheria. New Chelicerata is an exception, since restoring a ruined kingdom isn’t a simple task, and that was in no part thanks to the Horde destroying the land and water.

To add on top of that, Aurora notes the strange carts being driven around the area. Compact metal transportation vehicles that are hovering above the ground, or whizzing through the canopy. An invention from Entrapta, no doubt. She tends to be the mind behind the majority of the designs. Those cannot possibly be safe.

Aurora treads lightly along the ground, a little dash of levitation magic that she’s been practicing. A gaggle of children, both Etherian and mixed, run past her, and she sidesteps out of the way. None of them are paying attention to where they’re running, almost doing the same to a couple of people. She quietly shames their parents for not teaching them respect better.

“Hey! You all have to slow down!”

She recognizes the voice, stopping in her tracks.

“Aww, but we wanna run!” chime youthful voices of reckless abandon.

Her eyes shift back and forth from either side, not risking looking behind herself, wondering if she can slip into a nearby building.

“You want to run? Go that way into the woods and return after a while. Whoever’s fastest wins and gets bragging rights.”

“What if one of us gets lost?”

For a moment, she wonders if she could master the invisibility spell this very second—

“Your parents didn’t tell you, but that’s the price of being fools running around without a care: you didn’t get to learn map reading. It’s a curse, so it’s inevitable you’ll die in the jungle.”

The children laugh, “What? No way!”

As the conversation turns to protest, Aurora darts behind a wall, letting out a breath. Crisis averted.

“You know, I heard that if you run like mad back to your homes, and don’t get lost, the curse is lifted! But you can only try when the moon’s half full.”

A gasp comes from one of the children, “Oh my gosh! It’s half full tonight!”

“I guess you kids better practice for this evening!”

Aurora peers around the corner, listening to the children fall for the outlandish lies, while unable to see anyone.

She’s startled when the next sound is that of quick steps coming her direction, darting past her—

Instinctively, she teleports, narrowly avoiding collision with a child. She closes her eyes and sighs.

Why can’t she go home?

“Aurora? What are you doing here?”

She tenses.

She didn’t plan where she’d wind up.

Slowly, Aurora tilts back her head, giving her signature smile, “Eon. I didn’t expect to see you.”

Peering down, Eon quirks a single brow, “You didn’t expect to see me where my family is? Do you not know how visitation works?”

Aurora withdraws, realizing with embarrassment how her head had been resting on his chest. He stands there, nonchalant, several stacks of flour levitating above his palm. He wears Mystacoran attire, deep, noble colors of purple with the usual white or gold accents replaced with his signature black.

Standing out as much as her, if she’ll admit anything. She attends any event wearing dresses, colored soft pink with whites trimming her sleeves and the hem of her skirt. She smoothes out her outfit, looking at the fabric, “I know how visitation works. Normally, you’re locked up in your room.” She side-eyes him. “Doing nothing to better yourself.”

Eon gives a cocky grin, “At least I don’t fake being busy to drown out the monotony enveloping my life.”

Decorum be damned, Aurora’s expression turns mocking, “I happen to like monotony. Schedules keep things together.”

“Another way of declaring you’re uptight,” Eon retorts, sauntering past her.

Aurora emits a light scoff, teleporting beside him, “I am not uptight! I appear that way to the lethargic. It wouldn’t hurt you to make an effort.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Eon replies, spinning on the ball of his foot and giving a small bow with his head. “I forgot that commoners like myself need your example to show us how we could improve ourselves.”

Aurora tosses back her hair, “That’s part of being a princess—leading by example.”

Eon rolls his eyes, continuing his path, “Of course. I wouldn’t want to contradict you.”

“But I would contradict you,” Aurora replies. “I don’t understand why you’re carrying the sacks like that.”

“Like what?”

“Magic isn’t something to do menial tasks with. Did your muscles atrophy from being bedridden?”

“I happen to enjoy using my magic for all my needs,” Eon says. “If it makes things easier, why not do it?”

Aurora shakes her head.

“So, what are you on the island for? Did your family finally admit you were found among the beetles, and that’s why you have those wings?”

“Are you insinuating I’m a pest?” she questions, annoyed, folding her arms.

“Beetles happen to serve a very good purpose,” Eon tells her. “I wouldn’t imply such malicious concepts about you.”

Aurora gives him a pointed glare, “If you must know, I happen to be tagging along with my parents. They wanted to check on how construction is going for your people.”

“Ah. That’s nice,” he says, sincere.

“For you, maybe.”

Eon resumes being distant, “Well, I thank you for showing you care. Your presence graces us.”

“I suppose this will do as I’m waiting for them to be done,” she replies, looking around with annoyance.

Eon stops in front of his destination, setting the cargo carefully on the ground. He waves at an uncle, who nods his thanks before continuing to help a customer.

“Why don’t you take it inside?” Aurora asks.

“They know where it is.”

“It’s nicer to put it inside,” Aurora insists.

Eon grunts in annoyance. Levitating them back up, he goes around the corner. He halts, turning to her, hiking a thumb in his new direction, “Are you coming?”

Blinking, Aurora glances behind him. “This job doesn’t require two people.”

Eon leaves the sacks floating, pivoting around, “If you’re going to make demands of me, the least you can do is watch me do it.”

“But—”

He gestures to the building, “Would you rather loiter outside this public establishment?”

Aurora concedes, following him to the back door. She supposes it’s better than being out in the open.

                                                             -

Hordak lets his mind wander as his companions take rein of the conversation.

The nightmare threw him off more than he’d care to admit. He has had this sort of dream before, however, he was shaken to his core with this one. It was the most vivid he had ever experienced, and an aspect of slumber he’d care to not go through again.

Bow and Glimmer head to a group of his brothers who are in the midst of adding beams together.

He took it upon himself to take a break in a home that was under development. It needs a little more work left, but it’s otherwise complete and ready for furnishing. No one will bother him here.

Entrapta looks into the house, noticing his posture. He’s staring out a window that overlooks the trees, the drop going straight down, hands behind his back. His thinking position. She swings over to where he stands, closing the door behind her, “Are you still holding up?”

Hordak’s brow twitches. He doesn’t tell her that it’s a poor choice of words, because he knows he’s a little more sensitive to this matter than usual.

But Entrapta touches his shoulder, “Oh, I’m sorry! I meant to ask if you’re fine.”

“That is not something you need to concern yourself with. They’re mere words.”

“Words that are insensitive,” Entrapta replies. He doesn’t give a reply. She sits on her hair, gazing right at him. Unmoving.

Hordak’s eyes flick over to her for a second. He continues to stare straight ahead. “Entrapta, you needn’t apologize or feel responsible.”

“I believe you when you say that,” Entrapta says, not removing her eyes from his features. Suddenly, she gives a bashful smile, “I just care about you.”

Heart twinging, Hordak stiffens. He knows that her concern is sincere, and he appreciates it. He raises a hand to her cheek, brushing it, “I know.”

Entrapta flushes, his gaze intense. She can’t help but look down then, soft giggles leaving her lips. His finger traces the shell of her ear, and a shudder snakes along her spine. Body growing warm from the attention. He always knew how to make her feel special. After Prime’s defeat, Hordak had layers of emotion to sift through. He had been angry for many years, and she knows there’s parts of that residual rage underneath the calm. But one aspect of his nature that blossomed was a sensitivity that left her speechless. Hordak doesn’t believe it, but he can be very romantic by simply being honest with her.

“Hordak,” Entrapta whispers, touching his hand.

He tilts his head, “Yes?”

“You know I love you,” she says.

“Yes, I do,” Hordak replies, surprised. “And I love you too.”

Entrapta gives a breathy laugh, turning her face into his palm, hiding. She peers up at him with one eye, “Really?”

“More than you could comprehend,” Hordak tells the truth.

“Aww!” she coos, pressing his hand into her cheek, slightly muffled as she buries her face into his palm again.

A light blush tints his face, and he gives a soft laugh, “Entrapta, what’s this about? Are you upset that you cannot help me with my problem?”

“A little,” Entrapta holds his hand in hers, kissing the inside of his wrist. “I don’t know what to do sometimes, and I don’t know if me being around helps at all.”

“You’re a great help,” he assures her, thumb stroking her cheekbone. “Don’t doubt your affect on me.”

Entrapta grins, “I know some of the ways I affect you, silly!”

Hordak steps closer, smile widening along his lips, teeth flashing. His voice lowers, “Do you?”

“I like to think so,” Entrapta teases, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, fingers moving into his hair.

Her lips touch his, and he pulls her close. Her body curves against his, and even after decades of being near her, he’s always amazed at how she feels. Hand angled behind her head, his other one shifts down her back, sliding down her thigh.

Entrapta moans into his mouth, and she realizes that she’s been wanting to do this all day. His breathing grows ragged, moans interspersed with her name, sounds that she never gets tired of, because he only makes them with her.

Hordak pushes her against the wall, and he feels her hair slacken through her frame. Her legs wrap around his waist, allowing herself to be held up by his hands. Entrapta gives a soft groan, pulling him close. Her mouth caresses his neck, causing his body to shiver. Her hands glide down his back, grazing over exposed skin.

His hand snakes up her frame, and angles between her legs. Against the fabric, he begins to rub her clit, and Entrapta gasps in welcome surprise. Grinding against his fingers, she gives a small bite to his ear lobe, hot breath tickling his skin.

Hordak presses harder with his fingers, and he knows she’s growing damp. He captures her mouth with his, swallowing a moan she emits, flushed and excited. She grins against his chin, giving a small chuckle.

Encouraged, Hordak stops petting her. He looks at her, “Entrapta, remove your clothes.”

“Ooooh!” Entrapta does as he says, discarding everything but her shirt.

With ease, he lifts her back up, pushing her securely upon the wall and placing her legs over his shoulders. He has no hesitation as he leans in, breathing in, and glides his tongue up slick folds, rubbing over the clit with the end of his tongue.

Entrapta gasps, closing her eyes in pleasure. His tongue moves slowly, taking his time. It moves through the sides, around, teasing the clit, but never going in. Entrapta’s hands caress his hair, brushing through dark blue locks. His moans vibrate into her skin, mouth burning hot on burning flesh.

Hordak’s tongue suddenly darts in, and Entrapta’s back arches, mouth parting open. Groaning deep in her throat, Entrapta’s fingers grip his hair harder. Hordak pushes her legs further aside, nails digging into tender skin. He pulls away, giving her a brief glance, as his teeth graze along the delicate skin of her inner thigh.

“Hordak…” Entrapta whispers.

“Hmm?” he hums, mouth covering her clit, sucking hard.

Her moan escapes in a staccato, trembling. Biting her lower lip, Entrapta forgets what she’s supposed to ask. Lost in the sensation of his mouth on her clit, tongue dragging along swollen lips. His fingers squeeze the sensitive flesh of her backside, his ears twitching when she says his name. Soon, she’s soaked, unable to think or speak, overcome by physical touch. His arms, once the most obvious area of his defect, don’t waver from the weight, keeping her steady without qualm.

She would love him no matter his appearance, but she’s happy that he has the body he lost before. It brought him so much pain and agony, leaving him enraged and bitter. Entrapta would watch him suffer every day in the Fright Zone, even with her modifications. He felt inadequate, pathetic and alone. She would never think of him this way—he was the most brilliant mind and kindest heart she’d ever met, valuing her for who she was. Loving her despite her own imperfections. She never gave a thought to her physical appearance. What she always worried about was how her mind, her personality, her feelings would be perceived.

He accepted all of it.

And she wants to help him overcome whatever fears remain in him. That the imperfections of his body wouldn’t ever be the only thing of him she’d accept—it would be the doubts, the worries, the anger. He was her friend and husband. He, and he alone, would always be enough.

The heat in her stomach spreads throughout her body. Growing feverish, sweat shining on her skin, her toes curl into his back. Hordak’s ministrations are relentless, breaths muffled as his tongue moves back in, deeper than before, making circular motions within her body.

Shaking with incredible force, it bowls Entrapta forward, clamping her hand over her mouth. Eyes shut closed, brows knitting together, she trembles from the orgasm rocking through her every nerve and muscle. Slowly, her eyelids open, finding him staring up at her.

“Wow…”

Hordak smiles, pleased at such a reaction.

As he wipes up his chin, Entrapta brushes aside his hair, tugging strands over his temple. “Oh... I remembered what I was going to ask…”

“Yes?”

“I was going… to ask… if you think anyone will notice us gone…”

“Perhaps. But I don’t believe there’s a problem, so long as we begin going back now.”

Entrapta gives a gentle pat to his shoulders, and he sets her down. Beginning to dress, she grins, “I think this house is ruined.”

“Nonsense,” Hordak returns, waving a hand. “We need only open a window.”

Cackling wildly, Entrapta leaps up into his arms, nuzzling his neck, “You’re so bad!”

Hordak kisses her cheek, “I try.”

“I can be bad too,” Entrapta says, leering down at his groin.

“I don’t think we have the time,” Hordak replies, arm wrapping around her waist. “As favorable as that outcome would be.”

“Awww… You don’t want to make an attempt?”

“I believe, unfortunately, we have been gone long enough to arouse suspicion.”

“That’s an understatement,” Entrapta replies, wiggling her eyebrows, hand stroking over his clothes. “We definitely can’t hide that.”

A boyish grin and light blush changes his normally stoic demeanor. The expression staggers her mind to a halt, mystifying her on the rare moments it occurs. He’s so pretty...

“Entrapta?” he asks, smile still in place.

Finally recalling what needs to be done, Entrapta moves toward the door, grinning, “I’ll go on ahead, okay? You take your time!”

He nods, and she blows him a kiss that he, on reflex, pretends to catch.

Squealing at his playful attitude, Entrapta bounces out the door.

Hordak hears her voice grow distant, and he notes the faint replies from their friends. Hordak looks back out the window, catching his reflection in the glass. He looks down at his arm, touching it where he can remember missing bone and sinew. He takes in a breath, feeling the air move through his nose, into his chest. The power in his body undeniable.

It’s an odd feeling. Being afraid of nothing.

                                                             -

Aurora follows Eon throughout the market. He, apparently, was needed today. His magic lent significant help to his people, restoring broken objects, fixing machinery, and taking deliveries to several places. She won’t admit it, but it was a welcome relief from simply milling about by herself. Granted, these are tasks servants would be doing, but it made her feel normal, like she was accomplishing objectives at Bright Moon.

Eon looks down at her, “Don’t you have other places to be?”

“If I did, I would’ve left,” Aurora replies.

“Are you bored?”

“No, not at all,” she shakes her head. A little surprised she means it, too.

Eon takes her word for it. He hadn’t expected her to trail after him the entire time, and he would catch her standing by, occasionally offering unwanted critique, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. Early on, he certainly did. But the day has been long and he’s hoping to rest soon. She always does what she wants.

“Are you almost done?” Aurora asks.

“Yes,” he replies. “This is my last spot.”

Aurora looks at the sparse appearance, not even a sign put outside. Eon opens the door, singing its soft chime, and Aurora steps in after him. She’s struck to find rows of jewelry arranged along the four walls, painted navy blue, with cases planted into the middle of the floor. Though empty, they are meant for future displays.

Eon heads over to the case closest to the back door, tapping a bell resting on top.

Aurora joins him, “Is anyone present?”

“Should be,” Eon replies, turning around to face the front. He puts his hands in his pockets. “It’s not an issue if no one is—I can come back later.”

Aurora peers at the glass case, looking at dazzling necklaces, bracelets and rings aligned on vermilion velvet stands. She didn’t expect a store of this magnitude on Beast Island. The quality of the items are beautiful, with delicate designs.

Eon watches her from the corner of his eye. Her expression is intrigued, perusing the case with calm interest. He closes his eyes, waiting for the merchant to arrive. He listens to the faint tread of Aurora’s feet on the ground, the soft tap of her fingers on the surface of glass. He lets his mind wander in peace, glad to have a moment to himself.

Aurora eventually returns to his side, “Are you sure they’re here?”

“Yes,” he answers, not opening his eyes. “If you prefer, you can go find your parents.”

Aurora turns around, skirt slightly shifting about her feet. She stares up at Eon, debating whether to take him up on the suggestion or not. Her parents might be done, but if they’re not, she wouldn’t be able to leave again as smoothly as before. Staring at each side of the room, she says, “This is rude.”

“Uh-huh.”

“This wouldn’t happen in Bright Moon.”

Eon gives an exasperated sigh, “No, of course not. Nothing bad ever happens in Bright Moon.”

She ignores it or doesn’t hear. Aurora boasts, crossing her arms, “Right! Glad you see it my way.”

“Your Highness,” Eon scoffs, turning to face her. “If everyone could see things your way, we’d have a greater need for service animals.”

She blinks, “Why is that?”

“Everyone would be blind,” Eon answers.

Aurora says, tone clipped, “Oh, what would you know?”

“A lot more than you,” Eon replies, feeling vigor return.

“I doubt you possibly could!” Aurora’s head tilts at an arrogant angle. “The only thing you’ve proven today is that you make an excellent mule.”

Feigning injury, Eon clutches his chest, “Ah! You hurt me. But I could’ve sworn that you were fine with loyal, hard-working creatures. Unless that only matters when it’s useful to you.”

Aurora crosses her arms, huffing quietly.

Eon has known Aurora his entire life. Aurora has proven time and again that she has an elitism that tends to push her away from most people. Her parents are open-minded, cheerful individuals, and together they tend to liven any situation. Aurora can be charming, but she lacks sincerity. While not brash, her keeping an absurd distance from the folks around them during his errands proved that she was around him because he was the one thing she knew, rather than any intention toward actual civility.

Aurora inspects her shoulder, finding a loose thread. She points at it, and it dissolves in the air.

“I thought magic wasn’t a toy,” he says, taunting.

“This isn’t the same,” she snaps.

Before Eon can retort, the door opens behind them. The two turn around and find a woman standing there. Full-figured, with brown hair, hazel eyes and pale skin, the merchant is dressed in Bright Moon garb. Silver arm bands go up to mid-forearm, and she removes a light blue cape to hang on a coat rack.

“Eon, hello! I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. My meeting ran late.”

“No worries. I thought as much,” Eon replies.

The woman stares at Aurora for a moment, stunned, then smiles, “Your Highness! Welcome to my shop.”

Returning the warm greeting, Aurora nods at her, “Hello, I’m pleased to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Minette, Your Highness. If I may ask, what are you doing on Beast Island?”

“Royal duties,” Aurora gives a dainty laugh. “It’s been lovely!”

“I’m glad to hear that!” Minette says, walking over to a desk.

Eon bends down, giving Aurora a deadpan stare.

Aurora shoos him back, returning it with a glare.

“So!” Minette begins, causing the two to stand upright before she can notice. “Eon, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“What is it?”

With an excited skip in her step, Minette returns to the chair behind the larger collection of jewelry, “I needed a model for some of my jewelry, and using you would be really helpful!”

“Really? That’s it?” he asks, a bit surprised. “I don’t need to patch a hole in your roof or magic up boxes?”

“Sorry! I understand if you’d prefer to do those things instead,” Minette jokes.

Eon takes his seat, a little relieved that this is the easiest job he’s had today. Aurora sits in a chair nearby, crossing her right ankle under her left, hands in her lap.

“Your Highness, you can scoot closer,” suggests Minette.

Eon gives Aurora a brief glance.

“No, thank you, I’m comfortable where I am,” Aurora says.

“Nonsense! You can try anything on too!”

Aurora is about to decline when Eon rises to his feet and stands behind his seat. He indicates to it with a quick motion of his head, and Aurora elects to accept it. He pushes the chair under her, before levitating the one she’d been in next to it.

Minette smiles, bringing out her first batch, “How is Nyxia?”

“She’s doing well,” he informs her. “She’s likely in a meeting herself.”

“Your mother isn’t usually doing business with other people, correct?”

Eon peruses the jewelry that she places out on the table. Picking up a silver-banded ring, a crimson gem laid in its intricate center, he says, “I suppose she isn’t. But she will occasionally meet up with someone. I think she had to discuss matters with the council on Mystacore.”

“No doubt causing a stir of some sort,” Aurora adds, slipping a white bracelet onto a delicate wrist.

Eon glances at her, “You would know how to do that, wouldn’t you?”

Aurora gives a demure grin, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Playing coy only works on the dim, Aurora," he tells her with a smirk. "But I don’t blame you for being outside of familiar company that you think it’d work on me.”

“Ha ha.”

Minette watches with curious fascination, beaming at them, “You two must be good friends.”

Aurora and Eon turn to her at the statement.

“Am I wrong?” Minette asks, unsure now.

Aurora gives an awkward smile, a little odd on her lips, “Oh, it’s not that! We’ve known one another for years.”

“For how long, if I may ask?”

“A long, long time,” Eon replies, trying on a bracelet as well, shining black. “My mother knows her aunt.”

“Ohh, I see! I wasn’t aware that you knew the royal family, Eon.”

“Not many do,” he answers.

“How do you know Eon?” Aurora returns the question to the other woman.

“He lived near me at Bright Moon,” Minette explains. “I was a resident of the complexes there.”

“Really?” Aurora asks, shocked. “Why did you move here?”

“I always liked to engage in the unusual,” Minette tells her. A happy smile grows on her face, “It was delightful having Eon move in next door. I had become acquainted with his family when they would visit, and they informed me that my designs might strike a chord with a different crowd too, so I decided to set up shop outside of Bright Moon. I’m going to live here permanently, but I’ll be keeping my place over there to be in touch with my family.”

“Oh, I see…”

Minette notes the slight change in Aurora’s disposition. She sets down a narrow container on the table, “Do not misunderstand, Your Highness! Eon and I had been neighbors for a good few years, and he talked to me about the changes occurring on Beast Island. It seemed like a good opportunity to try my business out here too and build a second location. I grew up in Bright Moon, of course, but a change of pace now and again doesn’t hurt, right? I love my home, but knowing that Beast Island had potential was exciting!”

Eon gives Aurora a brief glance, “Surely, you understand what she means.”

Aurora goes quiet, not wanting to look at him. The two enter a chit chat that doesn’t involve her, to which she finds relief. She doesn’t fully… understand Minette’s motivations. He, unfortunately, is correct. An overachiever herself, Aurora can comprehend pushing toward her goals. But her ties to her home are so valuable, that she can’t help but feel a little slighted that a subject of hers decided that it was better to live here, in an underdeveloped metropolis. She can’t disconnect that success is tied to her kingdom and all its facets. It figures that Eon would be capable of convincing someone that, an idea they’d never considered before, might be what they want. He was always good at that.

It has been… ages since they’ve been in each other’s presence. They don’t interact often, but when they do it can be rather... tense. Tense is how she describes her relationship with Eon. His personality is both sardonic and frigid, which can lead to frustrating discussions. He has been more than pleasant thus far—even with his tendency to argue with her. She attempts to be cordial when she can, but she finds his quips to cut to the quick bothersome.

Then he does things like hold out chairs for her, or open doors and allow her to enter first, and she’s a little confused how someone can hold her with contempt and yet high enough esteem to do favors.

Maddening is also how it can be expressed being around Eon.

Aurora’s curiosity rises when Minette pulls out another box, dark and smooth, with a simple crescent moon latch on the front.

“These are my latest earrings!” Minette says, opening it. An array of different sets are revealed, but Aurora’s eyes hone in on a simple pair: pink tear-drop shaped earrings, not looking like anything special, but they have a soft sheen to their color that’s appealing.

“Your Highness, you seem taken with these,” Minette pulls them out. “Would you care to try them on?”

“Oh! Um, yes, thank you,” Aurora holds them in her hands, delicately pinning each one through her earlobes. Minette places a mirror in front of her, and Aurora discovers that she not only finds them pleasing, but she’s enchanted by it. They dangle as she moves her head, and she smiles. Genuine and delighted. “These are beautiful.”

“Thank you!” Minette turns to Eon. “And what about you?”

Eon stares at Aurora, and he pulls himself out of his reverie before Aurora can turn to face him. He looks down at the velvety interior, checking the selection. He does find his eyes trained on a similar pair, but in lovely lavender rather than the rosy pink she chose, their diameter wider a bit at the tip before becoming more rounded at the bottom by comparison as well. He picks it up, staring at it for a moment.

“Try them on, try them on!” encourages Minette.

Eon does as she says, and he checks the mirror too. He gives a light chuckle, the side of his mouth tilting up, “You do know how to win a man over.”

Minette claps her hands excitedly, “Good! Do you two like them enough to get them?”

Aurora nods, beaming, “Yes, absolutely!”

“Yes, I definitely want them,” Eon begins. He reaches for his pocket, “How much is this, Minette?”

“Eon, you silly boy,” the older woman giggles. “Consider them a gift from me to the both of you, hm?”

Aurora waves a hand, “Oh, that’s sweet of you, but you should be paid for your work!”

Eon nods in agreement, taken aback, “It doesn’t feel right to have them handed over. I can pay for Aurora’s set as well.”

Aurora, a little flattered despite herself, coos, “Aww, really?”

“Yes, really,” he answers.

Minette wags a finger, “Ah-ah-ah! I won’t hear of it. It really is my way of saying thanks to Eon for helping out today and times past; and Your Highness, I’d be honored if you wore them!”

Grinning, Eon shrugs, reclining in his seat, “Well, who am I to turn down a free present?”

“Thank you very much, Minette,” Aurora says. She looks at the mirror again, enjoying herself for the first time today.

                                                            -

Glimmer stands next to Entrapta, looking over a couple of blueprints that the engineer created with a team of clones. The day has passed with little event, and Glimmer was glad about that. She addresses Entrapta, “How is Odessa, by the way? Will she be home soon?”

Entrapta nods, widening her smile, “Yes! She will be home in a month.”

“Ooh, that’s exciting!” Glimmer says. “I bet you’ve missed her.”

“I knooooow!” Entrapta flips in place through the air. “I told her if she found anything interesting to bring it back!”

“Where did she go again?”

“She went to visit our family in Inicos. It’s a long journey, but the return trip is much shorter.”

Glimmer nods, then glances at Hordak. She leans in, whispering, “Do you think Hordak is excited?”

Entrapta picks up the cue, and whispers back, “Yes! Hordak doesn’t show it, but he misses our baby too.”

“That’s so cute!” Glimmer says.

“I know!”

From where he stands, Hordak’s ears twitch a little, looking over his shoulder at the women. They simply wave at him, and he resumes conversation with Bow.

Glimmer turns her attention toward the darkening sky. It’ll be about time to head back to the castle. She’s been enjoying herself since she’s arrived. Even with all the experience she has now, she cannot help but feel unsettled when she’s in the palace for too long, and it has been an overdue time in regards to going out. Beast Island may not be what individuals think of for relaxation and enjoyment, but without all the technology trying to kill you, it’s fun. Bow can attest to that.

The sound of the elevator is familiar by now that none of them turn to it. But a moment later, Glimmer hears, “Hi, Mama!”

She looks over Entrapta’s shoulder, and she rises to greet her daughter, “Aurora! Hi, honey. Did you have a good time?”

The princess gives a delicate shrug of her shoulders, “I suppose.”

“Are those earrings?” Glimmer asks, pointing to her ears. “You didn’t have them on before.”

Aurora touches one, “Oh, yes! Do you like them?”

“I adore them! They’re such a compliment to your face—” begins Glimmer, when her eyes slide over to the left. She lets out a loud gasp, “Eon!”

Eon continues his strides, giving a salute with his hand, “Hello.”

Glimmer, despite being dwarfed by the younger man, teleports over the remaining four feet and crushes him to her. “Oh my gosh, how’ve you been?”

“Not broken,” he remarks.

“Oh, I know you’re fine!” Glimmer laughs, releasing him. She holds his wrists in her hands, appraising him. “By the moon, you’ve gotten tall.”

Eon brushes his hair from his face, grinning down at her, “Thank you, it’s genetics.”

Entrapta bounces over, giving him an affectionate pat on the back, “And your strict diet!”

“That too,” he agrees. “I’d kill to have a slice of cake.”

“Were you with Aurora just now?” Bow asks, walking over to them with Hordak.

“She accompanied me all day,” Eon informs the couples. “She performed good samaritan duties.”

Glimmer can’t help her astonishment. She looks at Aurora, “Really?”

“He happened to be walking by, that’s all,” Aurora explains. “He worked, I watched.”

Bow holds his daughter by the shoulder, pulling her to him, giving her a happy shake, “You learned a thing or two though, didn’t you?”

“Sure, Papa.”

Eon leans down to Glimmer, “You know, she actually got dirt on her.”

“For once, huh?” Glimmer jests back.

Flushing, Aurora crosses her arms, “Mama, please…”

Hordak turns to Bow, “Will you three be returning to Bright Moon now?”

Bow nods, “Since Aurora is here, and it’s getting late, we likely should.”

Glimmer turns to the clone family, “Would any of you be interested in coming back and having dinner? The cooks don’t mind that!”

Entrapta shakes her head, “As much as I’d like to ask for tiny food from your chefs, Hordak and I have a previous engagement to attend to, so we’ll have to say no!”

Hordak nods at them, “Perhaps another time.”

“Got it!” Glimmer says, looking up at Eon. “What about you? You can have that slice of cake with us!”

“I got something to finish up here, but thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Eon, please, it’s Glimmer!”

“Sorry, Glimmer.”

Bow adds, “You should come by the next time you’re around!”

“Thank you,” Eon says, glancing at Aurora. “I’ll consider it some time.”

After a few more pleasantries, Eon bids farewell first. Hordak and Entrapta accompany the family to the portal about halfway before they veer off to their own place.

Glimmer stares up at her husband, “This was a great outing, wasn’t it?”

Bow stretches his arms toward the sky, “You bet! It’s good to get out of the stuffy meetings now and then.”

Aurora purses her lips, “I think we could’ve gone home sooner.”

Glimmer looks at her daughter, “Didn’t you have fun with Eon?”

“I had as much fun as one could while watching someone do menial labor,” Aurora replies.

“It’s good to get out regardless,” Bow says.

“I did always like that boy,” Glimmer tells them.

Aurora sighs, not understanding how he can win her parents over. He can be charming, to be sure, and he surprised her today by how useful he was to others. Even thoughtful. But he doesn’t have anything else going for him. She finds it to be a lucky thing that he enjoys being distant from her too.

Today was a fluke.

After all, he is a clone’s son.

                                                             -

Entrapta holds Hordak to her chest, brushing his hair as he falls asleep, “Did you have fun earlier today?”

“In the house or with our friends?”

“Both!”

Hordak smiles at her. His fingers slide up to touch her face, “I did enjoy myself.”

Entrapta leans forward, kissing the bridge of his nose. She puts their foreheads together, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything?”

“You can return the favor to me later,” Hordak says. “I’m comfortable.”

Entrapta continues petting his scalp, finding that she is also in a cozy position, and maybe they will just have more fun tomorrow. She yawns, voice getting drowsy, “Are you happy Odessa is coming soon?”

“Yes, I am,” he replies. “There’s much to discuss with her.”

“There is…”

Hordak’s eyes drift to his wife’s collarbone. Breathing in the scent of her skin, Hordak pulls her closer. His thoughts begin to pick up in the quiet of the room. Churning. Once his mind finds something to think about, he can have as much a difficult time letting it be as Entrapta could. And their daughter was, for better or worse, the same.

He asks, with unusual hesitation, “Is Odessa keeping something from me? She has a strong wanderlust, and she enjoys visiting family but... she doesn’t feel like herself. When she left, it seemed as if she was unsure of how to approach me. That she didn’t want to inform me of any event she experienced. Am I imagining it?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Entrapta?”

The question receives light snores as a response.

Sighing, Hordak kisses the column of her throat before settling into her chest, unable to stop thinking of his dream from earlier. The sense of unease he has balled in his chest.

He is curious what this odyssey would entail for his daughter and her friends.

And he is worried what the outcome may be.

#hordak #entrapta #entrapdak #odessa #fanfic: The Ripple Effect #shera #spop

[synteis]

Musings on Javert and Valjean in the 1987 Les Mis performance

Ever since I was introduced to the 1987 recording starring Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean and Terrence Mann as Javert, I've wanted to do a write up. First, this is the result of discussions with several people including @pureanonofficial, @everyonewasabird, @fremedon and especially @iammagicfishhook who I originally discussed all of this with. Second, I really recommend finding some of this recording. MiserableMoments and aurora spiderwoman on Youtube have most of it posted if you look for it.

I should say that I love a lot of performances but I do think this one is pretty special. This is the OBC and Terrence Mann and Colm Wilkinson both originated these roles. Terrence Mann is not the best vocalist to ever play Javert but wow can he act! He manages to pull out so many emotions which change over the course of all of his lines. You can totally chart his character's journey by tone alone. I'm sure everyone reading this is familiar with Colm's incredible performance as Jean Valjean but it's worth noting that Terrence brings out some aspect of Colm's Jean Valjean that I'm not used to hearing.

Terrence's Javert is so perfectly sassy and dramatic, in much the same way that he is in the book. His Javert is consciously being upright and knows he has dramatic music and uses it all to create the impression he's after. He's a snob and he instictively wants to talk back to Valjean even when he's under the guise of Madeleine.

Onto specific song analysis:

Runaway Cart: One of my favourite details is how tenderly Javert says "Jean Valjean" in this song and others. It's always when Javert isn't talking (knowingly) to Valjean himself. It happens later in Paris too both in The Robbery as well as Stars. Catching Jean Valjean feels like a fundamental part of Javert that he's precious about. It reminds me of how in the Brick, Javert will talk out loud to himself where anyone could hear if they cared to listen.

Another thing I love in this song is how it's super clear that even disguised, they effortlessly get on each other's nerves, especially in this song. They both almost toy with the other. It's like a side of them only comes out when the other person is around and it's their more animal/bagne self.

Confrontation: Mann's Javert brings out the desperation from Colm's Valjean. We open the song with Valjean begging Javert to give him three days to rescue Cosette. It is so moving to me that in spite of what he knows of Javert, you can still hear the small kernel of hope in Valjean's voice. But of course, Javert crushes that hope very quickly and the intensity ramps up very fast in the aftermath of that. We really see a transition from Monsieur Madeleine to Jean Valjean, convict/Jean Le Cric over the course of the song as Valjean becomes more inclined towards that violent, more institual self. But then Valjean subdos Javert and pulls himself togetehr to talk to Fantine's soul and he is bac to being himself. Fish pointed out that you can feel the pride that Javert feels at that violence/threat because it justifies his belief that a con can't become a lawful man. They harmonize for the last note of this song and it's glorious.

The Robbery Javert is at his #1 most dramatic and sassy here, especially at his entrance.

Stars Stars is a real masterpiece in Terrence Mann's hands. He's not in a good place when his Javert sings this song. When he sings "Lord let me find him," you get that tenderness again only this time it's contrasted by the immediate followup of "I will see him safe behind bars" which is sung completely differently. you get the feeling that there's this internal tenderness that has attached itself to Jean Valjean (or to catching him at least) which is protected by Javert's understanding of law/justice/social hierarchy but that it still pokes out ocassionally.

More specifically the layers are as follows, from the inside out that small tenderness and then the hatred of his past and people like him then the protocol and rules and at the top, the snark and diva qualities

Upon These Stones Terrence Mann pulls out a whole new voice as a spy. Instead of being very rhytmic and stoccato, it's been smoothed out but such that you can still feel the underlying desire/emotion through it. He sounds like a bad liar which is perfect for his character. Further than that, in trying to not sound like himself, he is uncomfortable. He's a spy not a double agent. He's used to observing, not to influencing and it shows!

First Attack Thie exchange where Valjean frees Javert has so much oing on. We get Valjean being initially measured but Javert just explodes at him. He's at his most feral here. It's also clear that he tries to preempt into own explosion and he mostly succeeds at that.  When he goes "your life is safe in my hands," it sounds like he's talking under his breath so that the students don't hear him admitting that he definitely won't be killing Javert. Javert's response to all of this is confusion. Meanwhile, Madeleine/Valjean is just getting more worked up. When Mann's Javert says, "once a thief forever a thief," you can tell that he's trying to convince himself and that he's already derailing. He shows immediate tenderness at, "you would trade your life for mine" and then he gets it under control again once he realizes Valjean could be trying to make a deal. But this leads to Valjean's wonderful monologue where he attempt pass the bishop's message down to Javert.

Javert's Suicide I love that upon  seeing Javert, Valjean's immediate reaction is to lose it. He's had a crazy long day and he's just carried a grown man through the sewers. It is such a human moment. Valjean just can't w Javert anymore, he's just frustrated that nothing reaches him ever (so he thinks). Meanwhile, they've definitely reached Javert which is why he isn't being himself. You can hear the his verbal parrying is duller and that his voice is softer. More so than that, the "lying voice" is back when he says "I will waiting 24601" but Valjean makes no sign of noticing.

This piece contains a huge range of emotions. At some moments he sounds like he's about to cry  and then he can sound like he's yelling. Durong the soft part his voice shakes like when he says, "it was his right" (to kill me). You can tell he's already at the stage where he knows emotionally he's been mistaken this whole time but he's not mentally processed that yet. I don't always feel this way, but it really feels like if Valjean had shown up, this Javert would have cried at his feet

#les mis #javert #jean valjean #cw self-harm #cw suicide #1987 les mis #Terrence mann #Colm wilkinson #les mis obc

[chosetherose]

The Lakes: Taylor Takes Us to Bridge City And Hints She is Through With Bearding

I think Taylor is using the bridge of “the lakes” to tell us she has had enough of the bearding, she wants to live her truth, and her love (with Karlie) lives on.

There are a lot of other things to consider within this beautiful song but I’ve focused here on the bridge because I think it tells a clear story. Note: This is my current interpretation of these lyrics; I’m not claiming to be “correct”.

I want auroras and sad prose

Taylor wants to step into the daylight and cut her beard loose. Auroras are symbolic of sunrise and sad prose could refer to a breakup announcement.

Bonus:

In mythology, Aurora’s name means sunrise/gold (hey KK) and her primary role was to rid the world of the darkness of night and announce arrival of the sun. She is the first to awake so that she may bring the light of day (KK will drop her beard first). Some describe Aurora with great white wings (like a VS Angel). The northern lights are said to look like shifting curtains evoking Aurora's cloak behind her as she rides across the sky.

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet

Taylor wants to come out as bi. Wisteria flowers are of different colours ranging from blue, red-violet to lavender (similar to the bi flag). The flowers are slow to establish; it can take 10 to 20 to produce flowers if you start with seeds or several years if you purchase an established plant (symbolizing growing up and coming out plans, respectively). Wisteria also represents a lot of different symbolism that is positive and long lasting.

'Cause I haven't moved in years

And I want you right here

Taylor feels like she hasn’t grown up because she is 30 years old and still not able to live freely. She wants to step into the daylight with her partner by her side.

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground
With no one around to tweet it

Something unexpected and beautiful survived a harsh private environment. Don’t forget in the first verse of “hoax” Taylor says her ground has been frozen (seemingly by the bearding and secrecy eclipsing her sunshine and proving difficult to escape). But despite all this, we learn in “the lakes”, that a rose (their love) survived.

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

I read this as Taylor is in this calamitous state with her love(r). They are in deep distress caused by major misfortune and their suffering is something they feel they can’t beat.

But then we get back to the chorus where Taylor repeats at the end “I'm setting off, but not without my muse” then adds “No, not without you” which to me means they will get through this together. The insurmountable grief will not ruin them. Their love has and will survive.

#kaylor #folklore #song analysis #the lakes