rosy-fingered

all shall love her, bright and beautiful and terrible as the dawn ind. sel. multi. enlivined by rory.

[auroradicit]

𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔡𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢? 𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔰: 𝖇𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

ind. sel. 18+. multimuse. personifications, autonomy, the expansive definition of humanity. adored by rory affiliated with:         @cinemachaos & @finalslay & @onlyheartaches & @roidesvoleurs & @thwipsthrown

doc. interaction calls. ask. submit. ©

[demrpmemesandinboxstuff-blog1]

Mutuals send me “♧“ and I’ll do this!

You’re my: How I met you: Why I follow you: Your blog is: Your URL is: Your icon is: A random fact I know about you: General opinion: A random thought I have:

[spokewar]

@auroradicit / that sad kes thing we talked about

One of the first lessons Lothal had thought to teach him—the planet, not its inhabitants—was that of its rain. Though the surface was spotted with many freshwater lakes, they were shallow, scattered, and difficult to reach through all the tall grasses and twisting paths. It made water a precious resource and rain was always a welcome reprieve, even if with it came winds and lightning, both which lasted for days on end. It was just one of the infinite number of ways it differed from Coruscant, where the days were controlled by climate devices out of sight and out of mind. Obi-Wan had never realized how artificial it was until adulthood when he'd been able to attend to more casual missions away from the core, calm enough that he could note all the unimportant things like color of the sky and direction the rivers flowed.

The new temple, even empty and lifeless, was a breath of fresh air and while the Force was silent, it wasn't the cloud of darkness that had blanketed all of Coruscant's upper levels like smog. He hadn't known how suffocated he'd been and though he should have, he hesitated to ask if any of the Clone's had felt that same suffocation as well. And while the temple may have lacked life, it still brimmed with potential and Obi-Wan could practically feel the humming of the Jedi who came before him who approved of revitalizing their forgotten home.

It was difficult to explain to those who couldn't feel it, but it was a terribly sensitive place. The energies of the abandoned temple were fragile and seemed to crack under the slightest hint of negative intent. Meditation helped, group meditation would be better, but the number of Jedi able and willing to help was few; meaning the road ahead was to be a slow process, but he couldn't say he wasn't pleased with the symbolism of building their new home alongside their new lives. Neither would be easy. but he would see both of them through.

Not just for the Order, but the Clones as well. They deserved a place to call their own, but Obi-Wan only possessed the ability to fold them into the Jedi and provide the option of escaping Coruscant and Kamino. A few already called Lothal home (though he knew it was less about the planet itself and more so where Obi-Wan himself was located)—mostly from the 212th and some of the 501st seeking some sense of familiarity—and their presences were good for the surrounding area. They might not have been able to feel the Force, but the Force could feel them and seemed to thrive off the peace they were finding for themselves. Somewhere along the way, he also acquired a feel stragglers, some troopers without names or battalions to call their own, either having lost to death or never having one at all.

Sargent Kes was unfortunately the former. They once had a team, had a Jedi, but they were killed and Obi-Wan did not have the heart to look into how or why. He was not a General anymore and if she wanted him to know then she would tell him herself. Their squad was a unique one, bonded through training designed solely for them and with features that distinguished them from the rest of their siblings. He wouldn't have been able to feel her particular brand of loneliness had he not been able to feel it permeating the air (and unlike a Jedi's sorrow, the temple kindly allowed Kes to feel her sadness without wavering under it).

There weren't good days nor bad days, most were spent floating in the space in between as everyone struggled not to backtrack themselves into a military mindset where every day could have been the last and they needed to watch out for enemies, for wounded squad mates, or bodies hidden by foliage and scattered debris. For the first time in a long time—in ever for most—they were allowed to simply just exist.

It was a tall order to ask of someone who had been created with the express purpose to serve and then die.

The weight of freedom sat heavy with those unused to carrying it and while Obi-Wan tried to give everyone their own room to adjust, sometimes he couldn't let go the urge to step in. Today, his guilt sat with the former Sargent and he'd spent the last hour sitting in the quiet open space of the entry room; Kes resting on the columns high over his head (maybe from habit or maybe from trained instinct to survey the whole room, he wasn't quite sure) and himself on the floor surrounded by data pads of scribbled notes. He hadn't done anything productive in minutes, mostly just soaking in the oppressing silence and wondering if there was a limit the temple would hold under before the Force made its displeasure known. It was with this thought that Obi-Wan finally let himself justify interrupting Kes' brooding session and rose to his feet, joints cracking with the sudden movement.

"I can't tell if the rain actually flares up old aches or if it just reminds me of what is always there. Sarge-Kes." There was no hiding his slip up. "Would you accompany me elsewhere? I'm afraid I've hit my limit with this room and I selfishly don't want to be alone."

[auroradicit]

Lothal was nothing like Kamino. Its storms were long and wild, but compared to the endless pelting rain, they were avoidable. The wind bent grass and grain instead of whipping surf. Any patch of land left alone started growing things. Unwanted things, half the time, sure, but growing.

General Strix would have called the storm's phase pamięć pioruna. The memory of lightning. Not vicious in itself, but ozonic and heavy enough to require more work to stay aloft. It could bring much-needed coverage for attack and defense. It could bring a spare hour's rest, tucked close under a piece of scrap and trying not to end up with a mouth full of keratin or metal.

Lothal was nothing like Kamino. So many of her vod'e would never see the difference. Thousands dead across hundreds of battlefields, and now she sat here like she was any different. Like she had any right to--any of it. Idleness, uncertainty, survival.

A voice interrupted her musings, Sarge cutting through echoing wind instead of the screams of a battlefield. It was. Reassuring. Maybe. That he slipped too. That their title apparently came more easily than the name he'd waited so patiently for.

Reflex had Kestrel lighting from her perch. Her wings flared, teal remiges a contrast to the stone around them as they slowed her to land beside Obi-Wan. They don't shine in the dim room. Clones were designed for low-light functionality. Stewjoni eyes, she'd learned, were even better.

By the time her feathers had settled, so had her decision.

"Lead the way, Master Kenobi."

[auroradicit]

@roidesvoleurs said: Nothing says honing the art of deception like a family board game night. Remy had dug out a complete deck of cards from his stash and had Sofia recount them as a croupier. After the minute was up, he banned the use of their powers. Nah, if they were going to cheat, they were going to cheat the old-fashioned way. Like his daddy taught him. BS, or Bullshit as the grown-up game was called, is an easy enough game. Deal out all the cards among the players, and everybody has to drop down their cards in order, starting from one. Don’t have a card? Make it up and hope nobody calls you out on your bul…bologna. Fail to be smooth with it and you take the whole pot. Call somebody out on their BS and get caught being inattentive, and you take the whole pot. Bonding. But with bullshit. He adds the jokers for extra chaos. Wildcards. ❛ Four Aces. ❜ Come on, come on. Call his bluff.

"BS."

After all, she had three aces of her own. Sure, he could have one of the jokers. Becca'd been trying to track, though, chewing on the inside of her lip. One of the jokers is in the hand Hotaru'd had to take. She know that much.

...Unless Remy'd snuck a fifth into the game. She wouldn't put it past him.

Her lack of certainty doesn't show on her face. She might not've been let near a set of cards, but Becca Simone-Pinette had learned her social composure at her mama's knee. She meets Remy's eyes as she nods toward the pile of cards at the center of the table.

"Go on, then."

[auroradicit]

@onlyheartaches said: It's quiet in the forest, save for the coo of doves. To some, the large, ever-present flock of these birds may be but a cute note for this particular wood, but Magda knows well why doves make this place their nesting grounds, safe and secure and lush with greenery. As the wind moves the curls of her hair, she'll feel it joined by a familiar touch, then by kisses trailing briefly along the nape of her neck. "I wondered," Max murmurs, "when you'd come and visit me again. My home is far too lonely without you ... " The god, now wearing a human guise, wraps his arms around her securely. "How long will you stay with me today?"

She is only human. Goosebumps raise along thin skin and Magda startles in surprise, settling when her lover's arms pull her close. Nothing in this bower would harm her, while she was in his heart. And there she would remain, even when she left this place.

"Until sunset, mein Süßer."

He's coaxed her into longer before. Sometimes she wonders if time passes in this glade the way it should. Today, Magda makes some attempt to stall his silver-tongued pleas. Turns in his hold to wrap her own arms around his shoulders, lifting her chin to meet his gaze with love-warm eyes.

"I need to be seen returning to my home."

My home. It's a distinction that feels wrong here. Still, it's true.

[auroradicit]

this pride I am once again begging for Bella to have her gay awakening thank you lord amen

[poms-resources]

What muse(s) of mine is your favourite?

Maybe it’s mild curiosity that’s calling, or maybe it’s for feedback—it’s always nice for multimuses to know what muses their partners prefer, or have even grown to enjoy writing with!

It can be one muse, it can be multiple! Specify as many as you’d like to!

And, if you’d like to, why?

[auroradicit]

watching a streamer play the new james bond game and there's a character called cressida who's near the top of her 00 class what if I what if I what if I--

[auroradicit]

THEIA??? MY THEIA??? CANONICAL CHARACTER????

[auroradicit]

watching a streamer play the new james bond game and there's a character called cressida who's near the top of her 00 class what if I what if I what if I--

[getlostsqdwrd]

[auroradicit]

SUCK IT, FORDO

[niratias]

🩷 owo?

You are flexible and so adaptable on the fly. Your ability to pick up whatever the hell is thrown down and run with it, whether that means you're making up lore on the go or pulling something from the Depths of your big ginormous brain, doesn't matter. It hits every time. It is so easy to write with you because of that. You also have such a talent for Messy Powerful Women. It's your whole brand. Some of them are straight-up nasty (complement) and they are all so engaging. It really makes you stand out to me. I love when somebody's willing to lean In to the war crimes like you do very much. We speak that language together and it's fantastic.

free complements

[secondtolastrow]

Lorna and Alex + their need to Stop

(Uncanny X-Men (1963) #219 // Georges Batailles, My Mother, Madame Edwarda, The Dead Man (tr. Austryn Wainhouse) // X-Factor (1986) #103 // Audre Lorde, “Equinox” // Leanna Firestone, “Suneater” // Uncanny X-Men (1963) #421 // Trista Mateer, “I Swear Somewhere This Works” // X-Men (1991) #179 // Red vs Blue, “Captive Audience” // All-New X-Factor #3 // Gerard Way, “Baby You’re a Haunted House” // X-Factor (2024) #2 // Nikki Giovanni, Mirrors // X-Factor (1986) #104 // Jesse Ball, The Divers' Game // X-Men (1963) #60 // The Altogether, “Forever Endeavor” // X-Men (1963) #57 // tumblr user greelin // Naomi Shihab Nye, “I Still Have Everything You Gave Me” // X-Factor (2024) #10)

[auroradicit]

so should I do a buzzed Star Wars muse starter call after getting back from Empire Strips Back or

[dxrkeyes]

@auroradicit [ bella donna ] doubled down 🂡 — ! “Someone’s going to notice we’re both missing.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Even with the sheets being an afterthought, haphazardly draped over bare figures, waking up with Bella Donna in his arms was something he'd never grow tired of. While having a warm, loving body to cozy up to felled any motivation to rise for the day, it did wonders for just about everything else.

"Is'sat so strange, Bel..." Remy inquired against her shoulder, still lazily nestled in behind her.

As if the two of them didn't run off together all the time. Even if someone did go looking for them, who's to say they'd find them? He and Bella had amassed an impressive collection of hiding places when they wanted some peace, quiet, and privacy. Always having such a scrutinizing eye on the two of them was beyond exhausting, with Remy especially not living up to the standards expected of him. His love was a different story.

"Détends-toi, you tensin' up already..?" He kissed the base of her neck, pulling her in closer to him, "Y'got somewhere t'be?"

Of course she did; of the two of them, she was the one who actually cared to be on time for her duties. He could care less.

[auroradicit]

So strange? No, never. The closer they got to the wedding, though, the more people seemed to talk. Vipers and vultures, chacon d'eux. 'Least around her. Remy...was trailed by his own whispers. Sometimes she envied the way he seemed able to let them fall like summer rain.

Shifting, Bella reached back to rest a hand on his hip. He ran hot through thin cotton, warmer still where they were pressed close skin-to-skin. Made it hard to think much of facing the pale fall morning.

"Tentateur."

The word was an affectionate sigh. She was, after all, as guilty. Willing to be tempted.

"What time is it, then?"

[auroradicit]

in honor of her birthday and finding out this week that one of my fave bands did a whole album of songs basically from this verse...like for a starter in bella's runaway verse!

[auroradicit]

@euphoriabled said: "You're like a mirror image I can touch." - Vanessa for Gotham

"Am I?"

Gotham's leaned forward, eyes shading towards brown instead of bay-black. Looking for imperfections. The longer she finds none, the more her lips quirk. It's a strange coincidence or a better mystery. Either way, she's flattered.

Laying her hand on the table between them, the city nods at her wayward doppelganger.

"Go on. Let's see if you wake up."