#you know the ones. just a giant sculpture of a castle but it's made of chocolate.

[kuzcoskingdom]

i have so many silly kuzco/malina headcanons and many of them are based on AUs that are way different from what happens in the show. but one thing that i think is consistent across all universes is kuzco giving malina really over-the-top extravagant gifts and doing grand gestures for her that she really doesn't need and often pretends not to love. she rolls her eyes and tries to hide that she's smiling and blushing but on the inside she is happy to accept every massive wall of flowers and lavishly expensive piece of jewelry and badly-written love song from him. especially because they may seem ridiculous, but they're still genuine--with the flowers and jewelry he gets her favorite kinds and shows that he knows what she likes, and with the songs, he shows that he's thinking of her and is willing to put in that kind of effort for her. and once they're actually dating, she does let him know that she's grateful and that she loves him.

[elsannasecretsanta]

In The End It Was Her (gift for Andrew)

In a boat, on a lake, sat two figures.

The first was a queen, the second a spirit.

The sun beat down on them from a clear blue sky, and the crystalline water sparkled back. The only ripples came from the drifting boat disturbing the placid lake. A gentle breeze cooled their faces from the heat of summer.

The queen found herself content. What more could she ask for? Before her sat the love of her life, finally at peace. Before her, the vast expanse of her kingdom; rolling hills and soaring pines, the bustling castle town filled with the good people of Arendelle. 

All seemed well, and she found her eyes drawn to the face of the woman before her. She knew every inch by heart and could trace it without looking. What was it about Elsa that she adored the most?

Maybe it was her eyes, whose blue seemed like tiny lakes of their own, also sparkling. She could see herself in the reflection and she wondered if Elsa was reflected back in those tiny eyes. How many of them were there? Just holding eye contact? And if Elsa’s gorgeous eyes were lakes, the pupils could be the tiny boat in which little Annas and Elsas both stared at each other! What if she and Elsa were sitting in a giant Elsa’s eye!

Anna grinned to herself because that mental image was just far too silly. Would giant Elsa be some kind of mossy troll like the ones in the valley or did hairs simply look like trees at such a tiny level? Maybe the forest was her eyebrows!

“Someone’s up to something.”

Elsa’s voice broke her out of her reverie (which had gotten really quite detailed at some point). A sheepish grin spread across her face as she rubbed the back of her head saying,

“Up to something? I am the last person to be up to something, as the current queen of Arendelle,” said Anna.

“I don’t know, that bag of chocolates I sent you and the boys mysteriously went missing after not even a day.”

“Well it must’ve been some chocolate thief that snuck in after Kristoff delivered the ice to the palace!”

Elsa’s laugh made Anna’s heart flutter. She could listen to that sound without ever growing sick of it.

“I guess I’ll have to tell Gale to keep an eye out for those pesky chocolate thieves,” said Elsa, smiling.

“There’s definitely one living in the castle,” confirmed Anna.

Her eyes were amazing, that was true, but maybe Anna’s favorite thing about Elsa was her voice. The clear, high tone as she spoke, and the way it sounded whenever she sang. The stories always spoke of princesses with magical singing voices that sounded like the song of a nightingale. She’d never actually heard one, but she figured that they must sound like Elsa. She even had magic and maybe that was one of the side effects! Powers and a special voice.

And even better was just hearing the content of what Elsa talked about. Elsa, like Anna, was a well-read person from their childhood of isolation. Above all, Anna sometimes thought Elsa would much prefer to be an architect than a queen with how she spoke of designs and patterns. Heck, she built an ice castle when the whole eternal winter fiasco occurred! Who even did that? It was very pretty, though.

Maybe that’s what she did in the forest. As the representative part of the fifth spirit, she built giant ice sculptures that didn’t impose on the land. And bridges, definitely bridges. Maybe the entirety of Ahtohallan secretly held all of them!

But she also joked, and talked about queenly subjects they could both relate to (ugh, trying to negotiate trade with some of their neighbors) and all sorts of little things that caught her eye. Elsa was an observant person, and Anna enjoyed listening to all of them.

Hm. Maybe her favorite part of Elsa wasn’t her voice but the lips that shaped them and mouth that spoke them and throat that voiced them. They were very pretty lips that she quite thoroughly enjoyed both looking at and touching. The exact shade of pink that perfectly complemented her undertones, the way she bit the lower one when in thought.

They were part of the system that let her hear Elsa but only one so they couldn’t be it. They were more than the sum of their parts and she was trying to find which part she liked best!

Before she could get any further into debating this, Elsa grabbed her hands and held them. They were now so close they could touch noses if Anna just decided to lean forward a little.

And oh! Elsa’s hands were so soft in hers, the gentle pressure from the almost squeeze reminded her of how tender they were. Somehow, even though Elsa lived in the Enchanted Forest and likely had to work hard, her fingers felt as smooth as the day she was born. Kristoff’s hands, in comparison, were rough and calloused from the work he did. 

There was nothing wrong with that, they were a sign he made an honest living. But there was something about Elsa’s hands, her unnaturally smooth, magically smooth hands that just made Anna melt. She loved the texture of those things.

It had to have been magic, and Anna loved magic almost as much as she loved Elsa.

This warm feeling bubbled up from her stomach where it soon invaded her heart and then spread to her fingers. She just had to express it before it all built up and she exploded from the sheer joy. Imagine how terrible that would be! Elsa would be sad (and probably shocked, who the heck just explodes from happiness that isn’t Olaf?) and giant Elsa would probably flood Arendelle and that would be a disaster!

Wait, what?

Anna shook her head to clear those thoughts (which made Elsa wrinkle her brow and tilt her head though she didn’t stop smiling) and took in a deep breath. That just fueled the warm feeling and made it worse.

“I love you, Els.”

“I know, Anna. I love you too.”

“Yeah well I had to say it?”

“Did you now?”

“Did you not want me to?”

“No, of course I did.”

“You’re silly.”

“Says Miss Rides-Her-Bike-Around-The-Halls.”

“I was nine, Elsa! Nine!”

“And I’ll never forget the faces mother and father made when they heard the crash.”

“That’s what the suit of armors are for!”

“I’ll be sure to put those at the bottoms of cliffs in the forest.”

“Well, good! That sounds exactly like what a silly person would say!”

“Mayhaps.”

There was a pause, before both burst into laughter. Elsa’s grip tightened slightly on her hands as Anna leaned back, breathless. Her thumbs brushed over the backs, making the hairs on her arm stand straight as the skin pebbled. The feeling in her chest soared and maybe instead of explode she would simply catch fire. Or be electrocuted by how all of her nerves felt electrified.

“Oh my gosh, you should’ve seen your face!”

“My face? I thought you were going to fall in!”“Nope! Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, of course you can,” Elsa said.

In that moment Anna sparked on what her favorite part of Elsa was. It wasn’t the physical components of her body or the words she spoke or even the thoughts that gave them life. It was her mind, it was who Elsa was. Her favorite part of Elsa was… well, Elsa. Without that driving force of self, none of it would matter. Because it would be someone else, who she hadn’t shared a life with (though she wasn’t sure if it was sharing and more like individually living in the same place for most of those years)  and wouldn’t be nearly as compatible with.

It was her, all of her, and Anna couldn’t be more consumed with joy as their lips met. Because it wasn’t just anyone kissing her, it was Elsa. And wasn’t that just the greatest thing?

[scrip-doodles]

Nightmare and his baby gang Chapter 11

Previous chapter

Cross woke up in the middle of the night after a bad dream. He was back in the infinite white place where Nightmare found him. He could tell that there was someone else with him but the silhouette was too blurry for the child to recognize anyone. It looked a little like a skeleton with a lot of colors but he wasn’t sure.

“No Cross. You can’t get out of here. It’s impossible to, even for me.”

Cross shivered, he still remembered the cold voice devoid of emotions and the creepy smile on the face of the silhouette. He didn’t know who was talking to him but he knew one thing. That person was lying. Nightmare got him out of the horrible white place without any trouble.

He got to Nightmare’s room pretty quickly but when he opened the door nobody was in there. The giant bed that the guardian had was unmade. The sheets were a mess and all the room’s curtains were still drawn back. Where was his dad? This wasn’t normal he wouldn’t leave his bedroom in that state since he was always on their back telling them to clean their room.

“Dad? Where are you?” The child anxiously called with a small voice.

He went back on his steps and took the way to his and his brother’s room. If something was wrong with their dad they all should start looking for him. Snores could be heard behind the closed door which made Cross smile. Horror was always snoring when he was really tired maybe he will tease him with that tomorrow.

The child opened the door, ready to warn his brothers about their dad’s disappearance. But when he looked at them, all curled in a huge hug pile and sleeping, he decided to close the door. They looked so peaceful and at ease, he didn’t want to make them worry about anything. He was the big brother he could watch after himself alone. It was his duty to protect his younger brothers, not the opposite. Besides he just had to find Nightmare in the castle, he was probably just in his office.

With that thought and his plush, he got it back when he went into his room, he moved to the office. The corridor was lightened by a purple and cyan light that was coming behind the office’s door. With the light, the sculpture and painting on the wall almost looked alive. It was too scary for the little skeleton who squish his fox plush against his chest. He tried to focus on its colors since it was always helping him when he got scared after nightmares of the white place. But it didn’t work this time.

“D-dad?” His weak voice wavered, he wanted his dad and a hug right now but it wasn’t possible.

Taking a deep breath Cross put his hands on the door and opened it as quickly as he could with his eyes closed, not really sure of what he could see behind it. When he didn’t feel anything attacking him or even touching him, he opened his eyes.

Before him, was a huge mass of pure magic. Like it was what produced the weird and kinda creepy lights on the wall and corridor it had the same colors, Cyan, and purple. Cross watched it both intimidated and amazed by the mass of magic in front of him. He recognized his father’s magic but he never saw that much of it, it was impressive.

He tried to touch it, curious, but it didn’t have any substance. It was like waving your hand in the air, Cross couldn’t touch anything. He was about to take a few steps back, surely staying this close to wild magic was dangerous. When he took the first steps he felt that something was wrong, his body was actually getting closer and closer to the magic. He was getting sucked inside the magic!

He screamed when he notice his legs were almost entirely inside the magic. He was beginning to recognize the feeling he got when he entered the office. It was the same as when they went to that park. That must mean that this thing was a portal! Now Cross understood why their dad told them to close their eyes, it was terrifying!

“DAD!! HELP!” The young skeleton screamed, trying to get out of the portal.

As he was trying to get a grip on anything around him, his finger scratched the wooden floor but it wasn’t efficient and he was still getting sucked by the magic. Now only his chest was out of it and Cross was starting to have trouble breathing. He didn’t know where this thing was getting him but he didn’t want to know. He wanted to go back to his bed and to his dad.

Suddenly the office door he closed a few minutes ago violently opened, leaving a panicked Killer in sight. He looked out of breath and scared but he didn’t seem to care since he went to the office as quickly as he could.

“Hold on Crossy! I’ll get you out of there!” The other child screamed after grabbing what looked like a big plaid.

Cross watched him tying the plaid in some kind of rope while the portal was getting smaller and smaller. Now only his head and one of his arms were out of the magic portal. He could sense something really cold on the other side as he was screaming in panic at his brother.

Killer was knotting the rope as fast as he could but his soulbeat was racing and his hands were shaking as scared for his brother as he was. When he trowed it at Cross he only had his head and an arm out of the magical thing. Killer pulled the rope as much as he could but it wasn’t enough and he was getting closer and closer to the portal which was shrinking.

“Killer stop you’re getting too close to it! It will suck you too if you touch it!” Cross exclaimed before the portal swallowed his entire body and disappeared as if nothing happened.

“Crossy? Cross! Brother hey come on! It’s not funny anymore come out!” Killer wavered when the portal disappeared.

No matter how many times he called for Cross, he didn’t reappear. He tried to scratch the ground hoping that it would bring the magical weird thing back but it didn’t. Killer could still see it, vivid as it was in his mind. Cross calling for help. Cross crying and shaking in the dark magic on the ground. Cross trying to protect him in his last moment. Tears were dripping down Killer’s face as he realized that he failed at protecting his brother.

Cross opened his eyes when he felt the cold and wet sensation people got when they touched snow. Everything around him was white or green. The young skeleton squished his fox against his chest even if he was soaked with melted snow. There was way too much white for him to be comfortable. He was in a snowy and huge forest but he didn’t know where. Shaking and shivering from both cold and fear Cross tried to dry his eyes not wanting to make himself seen or heard by anything in this unknown place. What would dad do in this kind of situation? Come on Cross be brave you can do it!

Cross took his courage in both hands and started walking in the snow. Man, he should have put his slippers on before leaving his bed, he was freezing. The sound of his footsteps in the snow was fun, focused on the “scroutch” noise he was doing, he walked through the forest path.

He was tired and his legs were getting sore after all the last events but even a child, like Cross, knew that sleeping in the snow was a dead end so he continued walking. After what seemed to be hours to the child he finally started to hear voices. With a big smile on his face, he started running to them, maybe they could help him to get home safe and sound, or just to a warmer place.

Full of hope Cross was getting closer to the noises but now he could tell that it wasn’t normal people’s noises. Something was odd. He could hear people shouting at each other and loud sounds like someone had been knocked into a wall or a tree, seeing where they were.

He was about to go away since getting into other people's fights was the last thing he wanted for now but then he recognized a voice.

“Stop saying useless things like this Dream. I don’t need your pity or your help. All I want from you is to never see your face again. Can’t you understand that?!”

He could recognize that voice anywhere! It was his dad! He sounded angrier than Cross ever heard but it was him. The young skeleton sprinted to his father through the trees and snow. When he finally crossed it he was on a battlefield. Arrows were everywhere as much as paint. Some trees had fallen due to attacks and there were four people looking at him with surprised looks. His dad was looking at him like he wasn’t believing it and he didn’t notice the weird-colored guy that had sneaked on his back.

Cross tried to warn him but before he could say anything the skeleton with colors and ink spots on him struck Nightmare’s head with a giant brush. A huge crack sound echoed around them, time was stopped for Cross as he watched his dad getting on his knees and holding his shattered skull.

The paint guy was suddenly behind him and Cross only got time to run away between the legs of the enemy when a blue slash of paint pierced the air to strike in front of him. He was surrounded and couldn’t go anywhere. He tried to say something but he couldn’t, paralyzed by fear he couldn’t even move.

The yellow guy was getting closer and closer to him with a smile on his face as if everything was going to be okay.

[eikaeli]

Part 3

San woke up in the morning after his fight with y/n about whose gonna sleep on the floor but ended up sleeping together with a body pillow in the middle. He turned over to see y/n, sleeping peacefully beside him. As he watched her, he couldn't help to stare at her face, gracefully sleeping without sound.

But his peaceful thoughts were soon interrupted by a loud and obnoxious voice coming from outside their chamber. It was Woo, Y/N's older brother, and he seemed to be trying to wake up the entire castle with his loud voice.

San groaned and turned to Y/N, hoping she was still asleep and wouldn't be disturbed by the noise. But to his surprise, she was already awake and trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Woo's voice continued to echo through the halls, and San couldn't help but wonder how anyone could be so loud and obnoxious first thing in the morning.

As they got out of bed and started getting ready for the day, San couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. He knew that with Woo as her brother, Y/N's life would never be dull or quiet, but he was grateful to have her by his side to share in the craziness.

After a fresh shower, San walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His toned abs and shoulder flashed before y/n's eyes, making her blush like a tomato. Without a second warning, she rushed to the dining hall, leaving San behind. San, on the other hand, flustered by the situation quickly gets dressed and follows her to the dining hall.

"Oh, good morning dear" her mother greets her with a warm smile. "We're just about to start, take your seat. Where is San?" the queen asked as she looks around to see if San is trailing behind y/n.

"I don't know, maybe get lost in the hall," y/n just shrugged. "Hahaha, are you saying your husband get lost for the first day after marrying you," Wooyoung laughed, bringing a pan of cupcakes(specially baked for him by Changbin)

"There he is," Mingi announced. San walks faster to the dining table, almost stumbling upon the chair, being embarrassed he quickly sits down. Woo laughed an octave high making San wants to bury his face in the ground. "Woo, stop it," y/n warned. "Yes, Mom...," Woo mocked her and continued to eat his cupcakes.

The evening comes with a great surprise. Wooyoung has volunteered himself to show his gallery, and San just follows behind. Actually, San was curious about what Woo's gallery was about, but he was also a bit hesitant. He knew Woo had a tendency to be a bit eccentric in his tastes as an angel, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

"Are you sure it's something I'd be interested in?" San asked, eyeing Woo with a bit of skepticism.

Woo rolled his eyes. "Of course you will! I have some of the most amazing pieces in my collection. You're going to love it!"

San chuckled, following Woo through the halls of the castle. They eventually reached a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the bright sunlight. The walls were adorned with various paintings and sculptures, each one more unique than the last.

Woo went over to a painting of a giant octopus attacking a ship. "This one is my favorite. The colors are so vibrant, and the detail is incredible. I just love the way the tentacles seem to reach out and grab you."

San raised an eyebrow. "It's certainly...interesting."

Woo laughed. "I knew you'd love it! And look at this one over here!" He gestured to a sculpture of a strange, alien creature that seemed to be made entirely out of metal.

San couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the sheer strangeness of it all. "Woo, your tastes are certainly...unique."

Woo just grinned. "That's what makes me so special! I've got a great eye for the avant-garde."

San couldn't argue with that. Even if he didn't quite understand all of Woo's choices, he had to admit that the gallery was certainly impressive.

"It's certainly an impressive collection," San said finally. "I can see why you're so proud of it." He actually doesn't want to get on Woo's bad side, he just gets into the family and he still has much to learn.

Woo beamed at him. "I knew you'd get it eventually! People say I'm too over-exaggerated about my collection. I just need someone to understand me."

San never thought that he will get to know Y/n's brother by his visiting Woo's gallery, but still worth it.

Author's notes: Again, thank you for reading this masterpiece, and bear with my delulu mind. I love you guys.

To Be Continued...

[fairyfindr]

Dino+Dragon Stroll @ Canterbury Village

🦖🦕🌿🌴🦖🦕🌿🌴🦖

May 27th was me and my wife Skyrah’s 7 year wedding anniversary and we are both HUGGGGGGGE dinosaur fans so we gladly signed up to go on the Dino+Dragon Stroll at Canterbury Village and it was the most magical experience, honestly! There was such good and positive vibes, it wasn’t overcrowded, and the animatronics were great :) it was fun to get somewhat of a sense of what some of the dinosaurs might have looked like! My fave ones were the giant bird-dinosaurs with feathers and wings or the furry ones like this guy, the Troodontidae!

Isn’t it crazy to think that alligators, crocodiles, and many birds like chickens are being scientifically proven to have descended from dinosaurs, or at least extremely close relatives to the dinosaurs. Really puts things into perspective.

The was my first time going to see any animatronic dinosaurs, and even as an adult, it was truly magical and captivating in every single way! They were HUGE, they moved, and even made sounds! I felt connected to them in a way I’ve never felt before and it was amazing to feel like if I closed my eyes I could imagine being back in time and hanging out with the dinosaurs like it was normal everyday life! 😂😂

The village wasn’t too crowded, they sold tickets for certain time slots so the crowds weren’t overwhelming, and it was honestly really nice. My wife and I don’t have kids, and we were a little nervous before coming out that we might be the only adults there, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. There was people of all ages and cultures and backgrounds, it was truly beautiful to see everyone coming together to enjoy and marvel about something more ancient and giant than us and our human lives.

I’ve been obsessed with dragons and dinosaurs ever since I was a little kid! I played with my little Dino and dragon toys probably more than any other toys I had! That pure sense of wonder and imagination of what it would be like to be a dinosaur or dragon captives my imagination still to this day!

Halfway through the stroll, we stumbled upon an amazing little shop inside of Canterbury Village called Down The Rabbit Hole, and I just have to say, it instantly gave me a whole VIBE! I saw the word “fairies” in the window and just knew I had to go in! As soon as I walked in, I was instantly moved by how beautiful and ethereal the essence of the shop was. There was something magical, beautiful, or unique at every twist and turn! My fave were the black fairies, there’s a huge lack of diversity in the fairytale community, more so throughout history, but black folks are beginning to reclaim fairy tales for themselves by retelling them with black characters, themes, and stories, and I’m HERE👏FOR👏IT!

#BLACKFAIRIESMATTER

The shop owner, Amanda, was extremely kind, thoughtful, and helpful while my wife and I browsed around. We ended up connecting over our shared love of fairies, fairy gardens, and fairy tales, and I’ll be interviewing her soon for a deep dive on the Down The Rabbit Hole gift shop!

At the end of the Dino & Dragon Stroll there were tons of really cool vendors and artists that sold various goods including dinosaur and dragon themed goods- lots of 3D Printed dragon art sculptures which were amazing! I even got myself this adorable 3D printed dragon wand that looks like Spyro the Dragon!

I can’t wait to come back next year, and maybe even be a vendor with my weird dinosaur dolls, custom painted minis, customized toy castles, and dinosaur fairy gardens! Who knows- the future is MAGICAL! ✨✨✨✨🦖🦕🦖🦕🦖

May The Dinos & Dragons Bless You,

Alex the FairyFindr

[pet-pet-peet]

Could i request hcs for the dorm leaders with an gn!s/o who is like elsa from frozen? Like they have ice powers, they freeze things when theyre nervous, wear gloves to contain their powers, theyre scared they might hurt someone, etc?

Ngl, Elsa’s like...one of the reasons I realized I liked girls-

ANYWAY

100 follower event

200 follower event

Masterlist

Tw: some teasing in Malleus’s part

Pairing(s): Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x gn reader who’s like Elsa (Frozen) (separate)

He can tell how uneasy you are with your powers, so he doesn’t really ask you to elaborate much

Makes sure you have your gloves if he knows you’ll be in a position where you’re really uncomfortable

He knows that suppressing your power can be tough when your emotions are out of control, but he also knows you’ll feel even worse if you accidentally hurt someone

When you accidentally freeze something, he’ll sigh but just asks you to help him clean it up

If you get upset, he reassures you that he’s not mad

While you can be a very nervous person, your smile can light a whole courtyard

Anytime your powers accidentally go off, he can’t help but focus more on how beautiful the ice is

Despite any mistakes you make with your powers, it always gets overshadowed by how amazing you truly are

He knows that you’ll find a way to control your abilities one day, and he’s here to support you until you do

As a method of support, he sometimes asks you to make ice sculptures for parties or events

As long as you don’t freeze him he’s cool with it, doesn’t really mind your powers

While he knows it makes you upset, if you accidentally froze someone he can’t help but laugh

He’s not laughing at you, he’s laughing at the idiot that made you so emotional to begin with

He will ask you if you brought your gloves when you go out, but not always

Tends to have the trust that you won’t forget something so important to you

Honestly doesn’t understand why you’re so scared of your abilities

He thinks they’re really cool, so why not show them off or use them to your advantage?

Doesn’t dwell on it too long, though, and just leaves you be since it doesn’t seem to hurt you or put you in danger

Really appreciates you, though, your magic is just a part of it

Like..imagine him using his sand power with your ice? Cool monuments are ahead of both of you

He finds out the hard way about your powers when he startles you while you weren’t wearing gloves

Learns not to scare you again until he checks if they’re on, first

Otherwise, he loves your magic! It’s so elegant, and yet dangerous

Definitely asks for the occasional ice decoration from you for the Lounge

Will ask if you have your gloves with you, but always keeps an extra pair on him for the off chance that you forget

He wants to help you become better at controlling them, but you’re honestly too nervous after you almost froze him that one time-

Asks if you knew how to ice skate...for n-no reason-

Okay, maybe wants to learn how to ice skate with you because it’s the only land sport that he finds interest in after getting with you..

Helps you look into others before you who have ice magic so that you can potentially learn a little more about them

Maybe if you understand your powers more through research, you’ll learn how to control them

He loves your ice magic!

He understands your concern with it, though, so he doesn’t try to put you in situations that cause you to be panicked or highly emotional

He also panics when you get panicked, so it’s kind of a lose lose situation for both of you-

Likes to blend your magic together!

He’ll take you out to the oasis at night so that he can use his magic and then you can freeze it

Thinks it always looks beautiful, especially when you made that castle

Okay, but imagine Jamil looking all over the dorm and school for Kalim

And then finally, he decides to check the oasis, only for him to see a giant ice castle there

He walks in and you both just look at him deadpan, casually sipping tea on the top floor

Ya’ll can get up to some crazy shenanigans, Kalim just has a way to make you see your powers as fun

Breathtaking, beautiful, and dangerous; your ice is everything he believes in and more

He understands that it’s scary for you since you have no control over it, however, so he’s supportive of your countermeasures

Will gift you gloves to match your outfits, might as well look stylish if you’re gonna stress about accidentally freezing everything

Your nerves are something that concerns him, and he wants to find a way to help you become more comfortable with yourself

Will probably start giving you classes with Epel, but is more understanding if you make it known that you don’t like it

He still wants you to learn how to be confident in your magic, though, so he’ll ask you to use your powers every now and then

Sometimes he’ll ask you to make the Pomefiore ballroom into an ice skating rink as a reward for his dorm members

Usually he asks you to help him make an aesthetic snow scene for Magicam pictures

He is very aware of situations that make you uncomfortable, and he’s fully capable of shifting your focus away from them

Sees you as a priceless jewel and takes a lot of pride in being your boyfriend despite any faults

He’s probably one of the safest people to be around

Unless he’s raging in a video game, he has a very calm and relaxing environment

Unlike him, you do have to attend class, so that’s the only time you have to really worry about your powers

You worry a lot, though, and Idia is lowkey concerned for you

He’ll start to make theories and prototypes of things that can help you with your magic

You might have to tell him that it’s not something you want, unless you want to wear very bulky metallic gloves that store magic power; in which case, go off

Really good at listening when you have a lot of problems, and if he notices you’re having an especially hard time he’ll ask Ortho to be your emotional support bean on campus

Makes sure he has at least one pair of gloves in his room, lest you end up freezing the environment accidentally

Even though you have faults in your magic, he likes that you both can understand each other through your awkwardness

It’s like you can read each other without having to say anything, which isn’t something he’s ever had before

He’s curious why you seem to wear the same gloves all the time

Do you just have naturally cold hands? He has no idea omg-

One night he tries to take off your glove to kiss your hand and gets very confused when you pull away and hastily return the glove in its place

Proceeds to pout slightly, did he do something wrong?

As he’s trying to figure it out, you explain to him about your nervousness with your powers and that you don’t want to accidentally hurt him

He takes that in before smirking and leaning close to your blushing face, asking if that was a challenge

He does start to become more aware of your emotions and needs afterwards, though

Will try to help teach you methods you can use to gain control of your abilities so you don’t have to fear them anymore

Also tries to find ways to make you more confident in yourself; while your nervousness can be cute, it’s also good to find strength in your emotions

Very supportive of you and wants nothing more than to lead you onto the path of growth

*All Images are official art from Twisted Wonderland and do not belong to me. They are the Lab Coat Groovy card art

[vivacissimx]

jon snow & being a manipulative bastard

day 2 → book quotes

[...]the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.

-AGOT, Bran I

A bastard had to learn to notice things, to read the truth that people hid behind their eyes. His father was observing all the courtesies, but there was tightness in him that Jon had seldom seen before. He said little, looking out over the hall with hooded eyes, seeing nothing. Two seats away, the king had been drinking heavily all night. His broad face was flushed behind his great black beard. He made many a toast, laughed loudly at every jest, and attacked each dish like a starving man, but beside him the queen seemed as cold as an ice sculpture. "The queen is angry too," Jon told his uncle in a low, quiet voice. "Father took the king down to the crypts this afternoon. The queen didn't want him to go."

-AGOT, Jon I

One by one the rest fell in line. Jon persuaded some, cajoled some, shamed the others, made threats where threats were required. At the end they had all agreed… all but Rast.

[...]

Hours later, as the castle slept, three of them paid a call on his cell. Grenn held his arms while Pyp sat on his legs. Jon could hear Rast's rapid breathing as Ghost leapt onto his chest. The direwolf's eyes burned red as embers as his teeth nipped lightly at the soft skin of the boy's throat, just enough to draw blood. "Remember, we know where you sleep," Jon said softly.

-AGOT, Jon IV

Jon glanced warily at Chett, standing beside the door, his boils red and angry. "He could help you," he said quickly. "He can do sums, and he knows how to read and write. I know Chett can't read, and Clydas has weak eyes. Sam read every book in his father's library. He'd be good with the ravens too. Animals seem to like him. Ghost took to him straight off. There's a lot he could do, besides fighting. The Night's Watch needs every man. Why kill one, to no end? Make use of him instead."

Maester Aemon closed his eyes, and for a brief moment Jon was afraid that he had gone to sleep. Finally he said, "Maester Luwin taught you well, Jon Snow. Your mind is as deft as your blade, it would seem."

-AGOT, Jon V

Jon wheeled and followed Tormund back toward the head of the column, his new cloak hanging heavy from his shoulders. It was made of unwashed sheepskins, worn fleece side in, as the wildlings suggested. It kept the snow off well enough, and at night it was good and warm, but he kept his black cloak as well, folded up beneath his saddle.

-

"They're not," insisted Ygritte. "He never killed me, like they told him. And he slew the Halfhand, we all saw."

Jon's breath misted the air. If I lie to him, he'll know. He looked Mance Rayder in the eyes, opened and closed his burned hand. "I wear the cloak you gave me, Your Grace."

-ASOS, Jon II

That was not to say that he was blind to the danger Wun Wun represented. The giant would lash out violently when threatened, and those huge hands were strong enough to rip a man apart. He reminded Jon of Hodor. Hodor twice as big, twice as strong, and half as clever. There's a thought to sober even Septon Cellador. But if Tormund has giants with him, Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun may help us treat with them.

-ADWD, Jon VIII

What was it Stannis had said to him? You haggle like a crone with a codfish, Lord Snow. Did Lord Eddard father you on a fishwife? Perhaps he had at that.

It took the better part of an hour before the impossible became possible, and another hour before they could agree on terms. The flagon of mulled wine that Satin delivered helped them settle the more nettlesome points. By the time Jon Snow signed the parchment the Braavosi drew up, both of them were half-drunk and quite unhappy. Jon thought that a good sign.

-ADWD, Jon IX

The Thenns had no family arms as was customary amongst the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, so Jon told the stewards to improvise. He thought they had done well. The bride's cloak Sigorn fastened about Lady Alys's shoulders showed a bronze disk on a field of white wool, surrounded by flames made with wisps of crimson silk. The echo of the Karstark sunburst was there for those who cared to look, but differenced to make the arms appropriate for House Thenn.

-ADWD, Jon X

That day Tormund bellowed often and loudly. He roared, he shouted, he slammed his fist against the table so hard that a flagon of water overturned and spilled. A horn of mead was never far from his hand, so the spittle he sprayed when making threats was sweet with honey. He called Jon Snow a craven, a liar, and a turncloak, cursed him for a black-hearted buggering kneeler, a robber, and a carrion crow, accused him of wanting to fuck the free folk up the arse. Twice he flung his drinking horn at Jon's head, though only after he had emptied it. Tormund was not the sort of man to waste good mead. Jon let it all wash over him. He never raised his own voice nor answered threat with threat, but neither did he give more ground than he had come prepared to give.

-ADWD, Jon XI

Satin had his horse saddled and bridled and waiting for him, a fiery grey courser with a mane as black and shiny as maester's ink. He was not the sort of mount that Jon would have chosen for a ranging, but on this morning all that mattered was that he look impressive, and for that the stallion was a perfect choice.

His tail was waiting too. Jon had never liked surrounding himself with guards, but today it seemed prudent to keep a few good men beside him. They made a grim display in their ringmail, iron halfhelms, and black cloaks, with tall spears in their hands and swords and daggers on their belts. For this Jon had passed over all the green boys and greybeards in his command, choosing eight men in their prime: Ty and Mully, Left Hand Lew, Big Liddle, Rory, Fulk the Flea, Garrett Greenspear. And Leathers, Castle Black's new master-at-arms, to show the free folk that even a man who had fought for Mance in the battle beneath the Wall could find a place of honor in the Night's Watch.

-ADWD, Jon XII

[lala-writes-fetish]

This house will be your new forever home. If you are worthy.

In this very tame little snippet, two of our main characters meet for the first time. Are you looking forward to MEDUSA?

The voice from his smartphone told him to turn onto Wilshire Boulevard, and he realized that it had directed him out of the city center and into a suburb. He read the street signs, and although he demonstratively resisted being able to orient himself in this grey city, he recognized some of the names: Clarke-Ring, Veenhouse Alley, Ninneman Road. The prosperous, dusty north of the city. He dimly recalled a conversation with Luisa and her friends about a man from this area whom one of them was lusting after. No significant detail must have dropped, because if it had, he would have remembered the conversation better. His car crested a small hilltop.

The houses to the left and right were well kept and marked the visual transition from feudal single-family home to mansion. As a tenant, he could have afforded one of them if Luisa had had a similarly well-paying job, he surmised while turning left as the light turned green.

“You will arrive at your destination in two miles,” his smartphone announced.

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s almost in the woods,” he mumbled to his car’s dashboard.

“Well, fuck me,” he remarked to that same dashboard two kilometers later. He had reached his destination. “I didn’t know Count Dracula needed a website.” He drove through a gated stone archway toward a huge mansion that might as well call itself a castle with impunity. Gravel crunched beneath the tires of his station wagon. Cultivated meadows lined the gently curving driveway. A giant weeping willow dipped its branches into an almost black pond. A woman in coveralls stood in its midst, clearing it of duckweed by means of what looked like a giant, netted spoon. The sun was shining on a small park area that included the lake and the weeping willow. The other houses in the area were two hundred yards down the road. Anyone who wanted to reach the archway had to take one last steep turn and head straight for it.

He stopped in a large courtyard in front of the massive, wooden front door. A stone staircase rose in five steps toward the portal. The only thing missing, Peter contemplated in a mixture of excitement and a little irony, were two grotesque lion statues with their paws on weathered globes, and the luxurious private home of a James Bond villain would have been complete. A sculpture above the grand portal exuded diabolical flair: the beautiful, yet distorted with rage, face of a Medusa gazed down on the courtyard, the serpents around her head craning their necks, ready to lunge forward. Peter got out of his car and shouldered the carrying case for his laptop. When he pressed the button on the key, the blinkers lit up, and the portal opened.

A good-looking woman in a pastel, knee-length dress appeared on the steps. Her dark blonde hair ought to have seemed ordinary, but lovely waves in it promised the unbridled joie de vivre of a wild mop of curls without robbing its owner of the grace of straight hair. She smiled from a beautiful face with bright brown eyes to which the sunlight gave the glow of wild honey. Peter prided himself on his vocabulary, and the best description for this woman seemed to be “otherworldly.” The spectacular blonde cast challenging waves that played the eye, and she shared the light brown of her eyes with innumerable people, but they had a depth that made prolonged eye contact a risk.

“I’ve gotta say,” Peter explained, surprised at his own bravado, “This house would fit an older gentleman with a white cat in his lap, dramatically turning in his office chair. ‘Welcome to my secret base, Special Agent.’”

Jana put her head back and laughed out loud. Her bell-bright voice made Peter smile involuntarily. “Maybe I’m just the supervillain’s charming secretary, Mr. Wartmann.”

He shook his head. “I’ll eat my hat if you’re anyone’s secretary, Mrs.…?”

She tilted her head gently, the waves of her hair seconding the almost imperceptible movement. Peter’s gaze subconsciously slid up to the Medusa above her. “Ms. Jana,” she said, and they shook hands.

I may as well have introduced myself by Winnie the Pooh, Peter thought and snorted audibly.

His hostess sassily raised her eyebrows. “Don’t worry. I have a last name, which you’ll find out, of course… if we get down to business.”

He nodded with a smile, enjoying the amusing exchange. “Why did I imagine the head of the mysterious ladies of the house to be exactly like that?”

She smiled broadly. “Because you are a smart man, Mr. Wartmann. Please,” she said, pointing to the portal, “I have coffee made.”

You better believe funny Mr. Wartmann is going to remember his stay in the house. This is MEDUSA.

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Let It Die

Chapter 2: If You Love Me

Summary: Loki makes a plan with Thor to win back Reader’s heart.

Your room had become your personal ice castle. Small frozen ice sculptures were decorating your window sills while a light ring of frost surrounded the window panes. Snow lightly covered your dresser and nightstand while your bed was piled high with thick blankets. Not that you really needed them. As an ice queen once said: the cold never bothered you anyway.

Not that your were like the ice mutant on the X-Men team; you couldn’t turn your whole body into movable ice. But you thrived when the temperature dropped. Which was also a downside. You could never go on missions in desert areas. No moisture in the air meant no powers for you.

When you met Loki, you felt all your dreams came true. You never had to worry about accidentally freezing him in your sleep. And with your mutation, his frost giant skin never harmed you. Not that he showed that form very often.

He had a sweet side to him no one else had seen and could make you feel like the most important person in the world. Loki also had the bad habit of cutting you into pieces, as if dissecting you would help him understand humanity better. All he accomplished was cutting into your self esteem.

You couldn’t understand why you were so upset. It was no secret that he would have outlived you without even trying. There were rumors, whispers that there were ways to make a mortal live as long as an Asgardian - er, frost giant. But since Loki never once brought it up in the two years you had dated, you just assumed there was no truth to them. And you hated the idea of looked so old and worn next to him in 50 years while he looked untouched by time.

There was a gentle knock on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Hey hon. Can we come in? We promise mortals only.”

You smiled and shook your head before opening the door to let Natasha and Wanda in. “Hey guys. Sorry about earlier. I just wasn’t in the mood to look at yet another gift from the dumbass.”

“Don’t worry about it. If anything, it’s been the liveliest we’ve seen you in months!” Wanda sat down on your bed and immediately wrapped a blanket around her. Nat followed suit. Both of their breaths were visible.

“Well, sorry about the temp in here, then.” You chuckled as you sat back down. “I guess I don’t have many guests in here as of late.”

“It’s ok, really. Your comfort is number one right now.” Nat tried to reassure you. “Besides, we were hoping to get you to leave your igloo tonight.”

You laughed again. “Ok, ok. I get it. My powers have been out of control lately. Every time I think I’m back to normal, Loki comes around and fucks it up all over again.”

“Want me to kill him?” Nat asked, deadpanned.

“Thanks, but that won’t help. My problem is I still love the asshole. And I don’t even know why! Yeah, he could be really romantic at times and-“ you paused and gave the girls a side glance, "other reasons as well. I’ll spare you.”

“Thanks,” Nat pretended to gag. “I personally don’t see it, but I also had to battle against him at one time.”

You smirked. “Fair. But man, he could really be a douche at times. I don’t even think he realized he was doing it half the times. I’d do something and instead of being proud, he’d point out what I did wrong. Made me want to punch him in the nuts.”

“So why do you hang on?“ You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I mean no offence, but it seems like there a small part of you that still hangs on. Like I get you still love the guy, but what’s there that’s making you hang on instead of trying to move on?”

You sighed and leaned back into your chair. “Ok, so maybe I do know why I still love him. Loki…. has this side that no one but Thor and I have seen and I wish he would let it out around more people. He has an amazingly kind heart. Yeah, I know, I know.” You held up your had as Nat opened her mouth. “I literally just said the man could be a douche at times. The times he criticized me, it was for things that pertained to our job. I didn’t throw the knife right. My stance is too wide. I breathe too loud, the enemy will hear me. But when it came to everyday life…. he could’t praise me enough. He loved to watch me cook and listen to me sing. Snow days…” you sighed, “those were my favorite. But I wanted his approval for work. How could we work together on a mission when all I could think about was how I wasn’t doing something correctly? And then the mortality thing….”

“It all comes down then to if he can reign in how much he criticizes your work would it be worth it to try again when he’ll just outlive you?”

“Pretty much. But I doubt that will happen. That man likes to think he’s the best when it comes to fighting and war. Just because he’s a freakin’ god.”

Wanda looked over at Nat and nodded her head. “Ok, sweetie. Enough moping! We’re getting your out of here and clearing your head. So get dressed, it’s time for a night out!”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Yeah, maybe that is a good idea. If I clear my head maybe I’ll be able to control my powers better even if I never make a decision about Loki.”

“That’s the spirit!” They left you to change your clothes and you opted for dark black pants, black and silver boots, and a icy blue top.

You met the girls in the common area and Nat had opted for a stunning tight, black dress while Wanda wore a dress the same shade of red as her hair. The three of you piled into a car Nat had hired for the night and headed into town. Wanda picked out a very upscale club and the three of you managed to talked you way in past the bouncer and the incredibly long line. The place was packed but the three of you managed to make your way over to the bar to grab a drink before trying to find a table.

“Man, it’s hella packed in here! Maybe we should have invited Stark so we could abuse the VIP section.” You shouted over the music.

“You rang?”

You whirled around to find Tony at your side. “What are you doing here?”

“Night out, of course! I even brought my own lady.” Pepper looped her arm in his. “Actually, Nat told us what she had planned for tonight and we decided to tag along. We’ve been worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Tony leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re all here tonight.”

“We?”

Tony just smirked and held out his other arm. You couldn’t help the grin as you took it so he could lead you across the crowded club. People immediately parted out of the way of your entourage as you made your way to the VIP corner. There a mix of your friends were waiting for you: Sam, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Rhodey, Vision, and Maria.

“Young Mr. Parker sends his regards. He was dying to come here, but I wasn’t about to break the rules to sneak him in.”

“Glad to hear you’re trying to be a good influence on the kid, Stark.”

“I have my moments.”

You climbed into the booth next to Thor while Tony and Rhodey pulled over another set of table and chairs. “So you guys subjected yourself to an overly crowded club just because you were worried about me?”

“Of course, Dear ____!” Thor’s voice easily boomed over the music. “We are your friends and we care about you.”

You looked down at your drink as you spoke to Thor. “And what about your brother?”

“Loki sends his regards if you’ll have them. He acknowledges he has been an ass to you lately.”

A corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “It’s what he does best.”

“If I may, I would like to say something on his behalf.” You took a deep breath but nodded your head yes. “My brother is not the best at expressing his feelings. A trait, I am afraid, he learned from Odin. You do not have to give him a second chance, but I would hope you could at least have one last conversation with him before making your finally decision.”

You took a long gulp of your drink before answering. “Alright, I will. For you, Thor. You’ve always been like a brother to me. If this means so much to you, then I will.”

Thor’s face lit up as he smiled at you. “I was hoping you would say yes. Now we can get to your surprise!”

“My what?”

Before Thor could answer, the DJ’s voice rang out through the speakers. “This next one is a request. Dedicated to the Icy Monarch from the Frost Giant!”

You whipped your head to look at Thor. “Loki’s here?! What’s going on?”

Thor held up one hand. “Just listen, Dear _____.”

The song began to swirl around you:

I cut you into pieces Searching for your imperfections I had plans to make you whole But all my threads couldn’t stop the bleeding There’s nothing left, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

You’re breath caught in your throat as you listened to the lyrics.

I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Your eyes stare right through me Ignoring my failed attempts to Breathe back life into your veins But I can’t start your cold heart beating You’re so far gone, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

It was like your relationship and the last two months following the break up coming to life in front of your eyes. And then he walked into your line of sight and goddamn, he could always make a suit look good. Black suit, black shirt, a tie as green as his eyes, and a small black box in his hands. Your heart raced as he quietly walked up to you and set the box by your drink. Everyone at the table sat as still as statues, not wanting to disturb the scene in front of them.

You reached for the box and began to open it as the end of the song rang out:

And you left me more dead Than you’ll ever know When you left me alone I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Inside the box was a single gold apple. It was the oddest thing Loki had ever given you and you weren’t sure as to what it was. Picking it up, it was instantly clear that the apple was far lighter than you expected and softer as well. As if you could actually eat the golden fruit.

You raised your eyes back up to the Trickster God. “My dear, I have behaved horribly towards you. You loved me more than I ever deserved and I couldn’t even give you what you needed. If it is possible, I would like a second chance to prove I can be worthy of your love. And in exchange, I present the Golden Apple of Idun’s orchard.”

“I’m-I’m sorry. A what?”

“A golden apple. It is to be consumed by a mortal wishing to extend their life. Forgive me, I never brought them up before as I feared you would only want the apple. Not me. No one has ever wanted me for what I was.”

You looked up into his eyes. “I did. In any form you would give me.”

He knelt down by your side. “I know that now and I am a fool for not seeing it sooner. I know it is asking for the world, but I would love to give us a second chance. Because you are my world.”

Your lower lip trembled and you placed the apple back before closing the lid on the box. Loki’s face fell. “I cannot accept this apple.”

“Of course. I understand.” He lowered his eyes.

“Loki, please let me finish.” You placed your hand under his chin and lifted his face so he was looking at you again. “I will not accept this apple at this time. We first need to talk about the problems we have and if it’s possible to fix them. Only after we have gotten our footing back will I eat the apple for you.”

“So…”

“Yes, Loki. I will give us a second chance.”

Loki’s joy was clear on his face and beyond words. He stood up, pulling you with him, so he could engulf you in a hug. “I promise to make myself worthy of this chance. You are my love.”

“And you are my Frost Giant.” You gave him a quick kiss.

[josephinemontilyace]

Frozen 3: Melt (Act 1: Scenes 4-6)

Scene 4

It’s dusk - the setting sun casts long shadows along a dock. We see a figure moving stealthily past shipping crates and between ships. A close up reveals that it’s Hans. A few people give him a brief glance, but no one recognizes him with his unkempt hair, scraggly beard, and common clothes. He ducks beneath the ship that his brothers Frederick and Gregor are on and overhears them.

Frederick lays out the plan. We only see the brothers' shadows moving around, and focus on Hans’ determined but frightened face.

“At this rate you will arrive in Arendelle at dawn in two days’ time,” Frederick tells the ship captain. “You and your crew are transporting our arsenal - swords, bows and arrows, shields, medicines, all the supplies we may need for the siege. We’ll arrive the next day, and consult with your scouts on the status of the kingdom. Focus on the location of the Queen. That is priority number one. We take her, we take it all.”

Heavy footfalls descend the plank back down to the docks. Hans slinks around and climbs aboard the scouts’ supply ship. He will arrive at Arendelle a day before his brothers.

He blends in easily with the other unknowns, commoners recruited due to their inconspicuousness.

Laying down upon a sackcloth to rest, Hans has a nightmare.

His brothers shove him into his room, locking him in. He’s crying, pounding on the door, calling out to his brothers to please let him out. We see the palace from outside his door. Others walk by, day and night, time and time again, but no one does anything. They've been told to ignore the youngest prince.

He sits back on his bed when he hears something at his window - frost is forming around the frame. He walks over and sees a small handprint in the condensation. When he turns around, Elsa, as a child, is standing there in his room, at the door, softly knocking on it, asking Anna if she’s there. We hear Anna’s voice, sounding desperate, calling out for her older sister. Elsa begins pounding on the door with all of her strength. She tears and claws at the door knob. “Anna? Anna! I’m coming!”

Hans wakes up when a scout sloshes cold water on him.

“Some help you were, kid. We’re here. Help me pull in the sails.”

“What?”

“Arendelle. Here. Now get up, boy.”

Scene 5

Anna and Kristoff are lounging on couches in Anna’s room. Soft sunlight shines in as the sun rises. Anna is in a modest gown and Kristoff is wearing something in between royal clothes and his typical garments. They’re flirtatiously discussing wedding plans.

“So we’re set on the tiramisu… AND cake… AND chocolates?” Kristoff asks.

“You tasted those pastries! How could we not? It would be rude to decline the baker's many services,” Anna winked.

Kristoff laughs and walks over to Anna, gently lifting her to her feet.

“Who needs pastries when you’re so sweet yourself?”

“Pfft. Kristoff. Just picture it! The cake, the candlelight, ice sculptures, the food, and - HANS?!” Anna gasps and takes a huge step back, Kristoff instinctively shielding her, but she pushes forward.

They need better security. Hans has climbed up the balcony and right into their room.

“Anna, good, okay, please, I’ve come to -”

“What? Steal the throne again? Take the kingdom? Leave me to die?” Anna speaks bitterly and clenches her fists, leaning forward with confidence.

“That worked so well for you last time,” Kristoff sneers, his eyes taking in Hans up and down, surveying him for weapons.

“GUARDS!” Anna calls out.

“Please, wait, my brothers are on their way. They know Elsa is gone, they want to overthrow you!”

“Or this is a ruse and you’re lying because that’s all you’re good for!” Kristoff smacks back.

Hans relaxes his shoulders and laughs. “At least I’m a prince and not, what, a reindeer farmer? Ice boy?”

“You don’t look like a prince from where I’m standing,” Kristoff says as guards rush in and take Hans by the arms, pinning them behind his back. He doesn’t resist.

“Take him to the dungeon. He says we’re under threat. Please summon my council,” Anna orders the guards. “Once they arrive we’ll speak to Prince Hans.”

“There’s no time, I insist, they’re going to take -”

“Stop. Talking.” Anna orders.

“Yes, your highness,” Hans concedes, rolling his eyes.

After he is led from the room, Gale rushes in with a letter from Elsa. Anna plucks it from the air.

It reads, “I had a dream. Or it might’ve been a memory. I’m not sure, but I’m coming.”

Scene 6

Hans looks out the window of his cell, the ship he sailed here on in the distance. Some of the scouts are still aboard, but clearly some have gone off to, well, scout the premises. They’re sure to find loose security.

Hans becomes startled as the water of the fjord begins to ripple, a shimmering dance upon it. He sees a woman on a… horse? He closes his eyes, shakes his head, and looks up again. It’s Elsa. She’s riding on a horse made of crystal, it seems. There’s a small lizard on her shoulder and wind whipping around her loose hair.

Sadly, the earth giants are not here, they can’t swim and they’d sink any boat.

Hans stands at the window in amazement. He remembers when he first met Elsa, when she accidentally revealed her powers. They were so out of control, and here she was, looking more spirit than human. Hans remembers carrying her back to Arendelle from her ice castle. He remembers trying to kill her… then flashes back to the dream he had last night, when she was there, in the same room, locked away with him.

At that moment Elsa looks up and, despite the distance, she and Hans lock eyes. Hans’ face is frozen, jaw agape. Figuratively frozen, I must clarify. Elsa’s face is one of surprise, then determination and anger.

[longing-and-heartache-and-lust]

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.II

[previous] [next] [Ao3]

A second chapter for my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang with the wonderful @gen-syz-art as my artist ✨

_________________

When Geralt wakes up in the morning, the sun is already high in the sky.

The bed is wide and comfortable, probably the most comfortable out of all the ones he'd ever slept in. The soft furs are a pleasant warmth against his bare skin and when he opens his eyes, he feels the most rested he'd been in a very long time.

It's long past breakfast and he feels a stab of guilt somewhere in his gut, seeing that he'd promised Julian he was going to join him but as it turned out, he was much more tired than he thought. The long weeks on the Path, the hunt the day before and the wounds on his shoulder have all worn him out, and it's only now that his body had finally caught on.

Geralt stretches with a soft moan, careful not to disturb his shoulder, and turns to his other side, looking around the room with heavy-lidded eyes.

In the warm light of the summer sun, it doesn't feel strange anymore.

The golds and reds of the interior make the room feel comfortable, even though it's a little too much for Geralt's taste. The room feels luxurious and Geralt can't even phantom the cost of the heavy velvet curtains or the paintings in golden frames but yet, it doesn't feel like too much .

It doesn't feel like a bedroom in a castle, where its only real purpose is showing the guests just how rich the host is. It feels like a bedroom of a home that someone loves and decorates accordingly. It just so happened that said home is an enormous mansion.

Geralt counts twelve pillows and cushions on the bed, all of them a deep ruby colour and varying in sizes, and, against his own better judgement, burrows himself deeper into them, his entire body melting into the soft silk sheets.

It's the exact opposite of what he should do, he knows it. He knows that this is not meant for him, that he's not supposed to pass the time in beds like this, burrowed in what probably are the best furs in the entire region, but somewhere deep in his bones, his body still aches with exhaustion and stress, and if he can have this, just once in his life, he's going to take it.

He just doesn't have it in him to deny himself this opportunity.

And Roach, he tells himself, needs a little more rest, too.

The forest behind the giant arc-shaped windows is tranquil, the wind a soft, calming whisper through the treetops, and Geralt doesn't even notice when he falls asleep again, warm and comfortable.

***

The second time he wakes, the sun is at its zenith, so it must be around midday.

Cursing under his breath, Geralt makes himself sit up on the bed and then get out of it completely, though very reluctantly. He'd never really had problems with getting out of bed, even when he was still an adept in Kaer Morhen and had to get up before sunrise every morning, and now this unfamiliar gravity feels strange but not unpleasant.

As he dresses, there is a knock on the door, and when he opens it, there is a tall man waiting in the hallway. Geralt can tell that he is in his fifties but the formal suit and perfect posture make him look younger.

"Master Witcher," he greets. "I hope I have not disturbed you. Master Julian asked me to take you into the dining room once you have woken up."

The majordomo, Geralt thinks.

He nods, saying that he needs a few minutes, and goes back to his armour, tightening all the straps and clasping the buckles, once again feeling a little twist of guilt for not having joined Julian in the morning, as he'd promised. It was plain rude of him, really, and though there weren't a lot of things that Geralt hated more than apologising, he knew he'd going to have to.

After all, there was only so much he could do.

He fixes the swords behind his back and looks around the room just one more time before stepping out of it and closing the door. It's almost upsetting that he'd only got to spend one night in a bed like that.

The majordomo takes him through the corridors and with the warm light streaming through the windows, they don't look ominous anymore, though the witcher still finds them absolutely endless. There are paintings, sculptures and potted plants along the walls, and though Geralt tries not to, he still finds himself looking around a little more than he should.

When they do finally reach the dining room with a big oil painting hung on one of the walls right across from the table, Julian isn't there.

"He must be outside," the butler says, turning around. "If you would follow me, master Witcher."

When the man walks past him, Geralt can feel his medallion hum against his chest but it stops just as abruptly, so he frowns but doesn't pay it much mind.

They take one of what Geralt assumes are many doors to the garden and it's only now that he realises how big it is. What he'd seen last night was but a fraction.

The trees and neatly shaped bushes surround the mansion from all sides, keeping it separated from the forest behind the gates, and it almost feels like a world of its own, independent from the one outside.

Geralt's senses immediately fill with the scent of blooming flowers and ripe fruit, the sound of bird songs and running water somewhere in the distance. A fountain, he decides.

And then, among those sounds, there's Julian's voice.

"Geralt," he smiles, appearing from somewhere behind the corner, a hand over his eyes to protect them from the sun. "I see you've already met Arthur."

"I have," the witcher nods, realising belatedly that he should've asked the majordomo's name himself.

Fuck, he thinks, I am not made for this kind of life.

"I hope you can forgive me for not having joined you for breakfast," he adds and he feels ridiculous , talking this way, but in a place like this, he can't help but feel like he's at court. "As it turns out, fighting off monsters is easier than the gravity of a bed like that."

Julian's smile shines brighter and he laughs, narrowing his eyes at the sun.

"Don't worry about it," he says. "I'm glad you've had some proper rest. But I’m afraid I cannot let you go with an empty stomach.”

It’s already past midday and Geralt knows that he should get going if he wants to get to the town he came from with no rush, get his coin and leave for the next one but he also knows that he can’t refuse.

“Come,” Julian says, brushing his hand over Geralt's arm and beckoning him deeper into the garden towards an arbour. “I’ll ask the stableman to get your horse ready while we eat.”

***

Without really realising, Geralt stays for a couple more hours.

Julian asks him about what’s led him to these regions - aside from the contract - and Geralt just… talks.

It’s easy, somehow - talking to him.

It almost feels natural and in the warm light of the day, Geralt doesn’t feel overwhelmed anymore.

He tells Julian about how he was headed to Oxenfurt when he’d heard about the contract that had led him here and then hums in agreement when, after a moment or two, Julian asks if he’s from the School of the Wolf.

“You seem to know the Schools much better than the majority of people I come across on the Path,” Geralt says, very dimly aware of how much time had passed.

Julian just shrugs with one shoulder, a smile on his lips, and gestures towards the library windows with a move of his wrist.

“I’ve read quite a lot about witchers, ever since the Academy,” he explains. “I’ve been friends with a medical student and one of her professors was rather… passionate about mutagens and the Trials. He would tell his students his thoughts on the matter every now and then, and she would then tell them to me, because we used to tell each other everything. I got interested and, before I really knew it, I’ve read everything the library could provide on the subject.”

An academic interest, Geralt thinks, watching the way Julian’s cornflower-blue eyes flick to the medallion on his chest and then back to one of the rose bushes that he’d been using as a distraction point during the entire conversation. When his gaze would linger for a little too long and he would notice, it would immediately snap to the rosebush.

It was almost… pleasant, the way he looked at Geralt with a glint in his eyes.

“And, well,” Julian goes on after a moment, meeting Geralt’s eyes again with an easy, relaxed smile. “My previous witcher guest was rather talkative. He stayed here for a couple of days and, once he learned about my interest, proposed that as a gratitude for my hospitality, he shall answer any questions that I might have about witchers. I took on the opportunity and, somehow, we stayed up until the early hours of the morning, just talking, every day that he was here.”

Geralt chuckles, reluctantly admitting to himself that maybe, if he was to stay for another day or two, they could also stay up and talk well into the night.

But, of course, that is not an option. Roach is well-rested, and his shoulder is bandaged, there are no more reasons for him to stay. After all, he was an uninvited guest, to begin with.

But even so, he almost feels sorry that he has to leave, because Julian just… talks to him.

Like they’re equals, like Geralt isn’t a result of Trials and mutations - a monster hunter, yes - but also a killer. He doubts that there is anyone in the North that has not heard of The Butcher of Blaviken, the white-haired witcher that had caused carnage in the middle of the town.

But Julian doesn’t smell of fear, doesn’t smell of hatred. He talks to him not like Blaviken had never happened, he talks to him like he knows why it happened. Like he knows he had to choose between two wrong options and not choosing at all was more than he could bear.

Don’t get lost in your illusions, Geralt has to tell himself quickly, cutting his train of thought short, He’s just abiding by the rules of hospitality, he doesn't even know about Blaviken.

“What did you say his name was?” he asks, just to drown out his own voice in his head. “Aiden?”

Julian hums an affirmative and it almost feels like that name is familiar to Geralt, but he can’t remember, how. Must’ve heard it somewhere, he decides.

“I’ve seen him a couple more times after that, actually,” Julian says. “Whenever he’s nearby, he comes to visit.”

When Geralt bites his tongue, it’s too late and the question had already been spoken:

“Just a friend?”

Fuck, he thinks, immediately.

Julian’s eyes snap to meet his, slightly widened with surprise and Geralt half-expects anger but the younger man just laughs, open and sweet, like a birdsong.

“Yes, for better or for worse,” he says. “There is another that owns his heart. Or, at least, so I’m told.”

Geralt has no idea on what he’s supposed to say to that so, instead, he chooses to stand up promptly.

“Well,” he says, controlling his voice carefully. “I’m afraid, I must leave now. The alderman must be expecting me.”

Julian stands up, as well, and, thankfully, doesn’t comment on the much more obvious reason for the witcher’s sudden desire to leave. And if he does take Geralt up and down once before stepping out of the arbour and leading his back towards the stables, Geralt admits that he deserves it.

***

“I hope the alderman pays you what he’d promised,” Julian says when they reach the gates, Geralt leading Roach by the reins.

He’s usually good at reading people’s emotions - either by smell or by the look in their eyes - but the shadow that slithers across the blue of Julian’s eyes when he looks at the forest beyond the gates is not something he can identify. His scent changes, too, an undertone of something that Geralt can’t describe in any way other than longing mixing into Julian’s own smell - something warm and almost familiar, like vanilla and dried herbs.  

This time Geralt stops himself in time and doesn’t ask.

“Thank you,” he says instead, pulling himself up into the saddle. “For everything. Last night would’ve been a hard one if it wasn’t for you.”  

Julian smiles at him, running his hand up and down Roach’s neck which, strangely, she seems to enjoy.

“My pleasure,” he replies and when he takes his hand away, Geralt has to tell himself that the way the tips of his fingers brush over his knee is accidental.

Julian opens the gates and steps aside to let Geralt and Roach through, Lucio and Asra at his side like they have always been there, even though the witcher is sure that they were absent back in the arbour.

“Travel safe,” Julian says when Geralt turns around to look at him and the mansion one last time.

It’s strange, hearing it from anyone other than his brothers or Vesemir, and though he replies with only a carefully guarded nod, it turns something over deep inside his chest.

[celestias-right-hoof-mas-au]

WARNING: Although this particular chapter does not depict violence or cursing, future installments will. As this story is based on an adult parody of MLP called The Mentally Advanced Series. I would encourage that if you had not watched it to do so to get a grasp of the world in which this takes place. Many of the jokes, lore, and otherwise are in reference to MAS, not just simply My Little Pony. I have also made a supercut that includes every reference and appearance of Celestia in the series. In case watching the entire MAS series maybe too time consuming. If you find Celestia, or other canon characters, used in crude and unpleasant depictions offensive, this is your warning. However, I would appreciate that you take a look anyway with an open mind.

Celestia Supercut Link

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  “And here’s your armor and weapons. You should be able to start working tomorrow, but take it easy when you can. Magic works wonders, but if you’re not careful you’ll black out from exhaustion.” The front desk nurse recommended sliding over Valiance her belongings.

  “I will. Thank you, ma’am. It feels great to stretch my legs after being in bed all week.” Valiance chuckled as she quickly put her body armor on, hooking her helmet and weapon onto her side.

  “I could only imagine.” the nurse smiled, “There’s a soldier waiting for you in the lobby. I’m sure it’s important, so I wish you luck.”

  Just as the nurse had instructed, a soldier in royal guard uniform awaited for Valiance at the medical bay’s entrance.

  “Valiance Ascalon?” he gruffly asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well come on, soldier. I’m here to take you to your quarters.” the soldier informed as he began leading away with Valiance in tow.

  The walk was mostly quiet, but in time, Valiance noticed the regality of her surroundings. Banners and painted glass of the sisters’ various achievements adorned the halls with very little modesty. As they continued, one photo in particular caught Valiance’s attention enough to stop in her tracks. The photo contained Celestia wearing a suit with a leather overcoat hanging from her shoulders.

   Valiance raised a brow dumbfoundedly. ‘Huh. Not the kind of attire I’d expect her to wear… but not bad at all.’ she thought to herself while gazing into the picture.

   “Come on, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the scenery on your days off. Don’t fall behind!” the soldier called from further down the hall.

   Snapping out of her trance, Valiance trotted back up to the soldier as they continued. Although, the scenery did spark some questions in her mind. After a moment, she finally decided to ask, “What does an acolyte do anyways?”

   “That’s just a fancy name for a personal assistant. Though, judging by your particular skills, my guess would be being a personal bodyguard and just generally following her whim.” the soldier pondered as they approached a door and unlocked it.

   Stepping into the room, Valiance softly muttered, “Wow, this is… lovely.” It was spacious with a large bed resting at its center, accompanied by a nightstand on each side. To the far left was a personal restroom along with a panoramic window with a beautiful view of Canterlot. To the right side of the bedroom rested her wardrobe and a bookshelf.

   “I’d say I’m jealous of you, but in reality I can’t.” the soldier commented while handing the keys over.

   “Why do you say that?”

   “Acolyte’s are hard to come by. The last one that worked here was before I was old enough to get a job. Let’s just say he didn’t have the heart for it.”

   Valiance was perplexed by the soldier’s warning. However, she knew that no matter the task, it would be done in Celestia’s name.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Back at the medical bay, a small pink pony with a satchel and large tight curled hair briskly made her way to the front desk. In a soft spoken voice the little mare asks the front desk clerk, “Hello, Nurse Flatline.”

  “Hello, Mentee. Can I help you with something?”

   “Um, do you know of a large pale mare who was committed here recently after the attack? She wore a purple and gold set of armor, not like the castle guards.”

  “I'm sorry to say that the patient you're looking for was released earlier today.” The clerk replied, looking the pink horse up and down.

  “Oh, well, can you tell me where she is then?”

  “No Mentee, you know I’m not at liberty to release that information.”

  Mentee groaned, “Pleeease, I really have to talk to her. She saved my life during the changeling attack, can’t you just give me a hint where she might be?”

  The clerk pony pondered momentarily, letting out a deep sigh, before firmly answering, “If I give you a hint, you didn’t get it from me, is that clear?”

  Mentee eagerly nodded with a small smile as she leaned in closer.

  “She’s a castle employee as well, if you ask around you could probably find her.” Flatline whispered.

  Mentee gasped and shouted, “Thank you so much, Flatline!” Only to be shushed and shooed away.

  After asking around, Mentee had finally made her way to Valiance’s room. Her body began to rattle as she grew ever closer to the door. Closing her eyes to compose herself, she finally mustered up the courage to knock on the door… nothing. Maybe she just hadn’t heard the knock on the door. Mentee tried again, this time louder… still nothing. She pressed her ear up against the door only to find absolutely no noise on the other side.

  “No one is in there, miss. She left for a walk.” a disapproving voice slated.

  Mentee flinched and quickly spun around to see a blue coated maid sneering at her. Rather than attempt to explain herself, Mentee panicked and bolted.

  Sweat gathered on Mentee’s brow as she came to rest in an empty corridor. Running a cloven hoof through her bangs she uttered to herself, “This is ridiculous, I just wanted to thank her for saving me.” She glanced down to the satchel dejectedly, “Maybe I can find her tomorrow once my shift is over… I need to get some air.”

  The cool evening air was a blessing that gently kissed Mentee’s face. She had made her way to the castle courtyard and basked in its soft serenity. Plopping on a nearby bench next to a batch of daffodils, she gingerly took off her satchel to lean back and relax. Their light aroma invited Mentee into picking one and absentmindedly twirling it around. Taking a light whiff, she smiled and placed the flower in her hair. Stars twinkled in the strawberry sunset while a few ponies walked the courtyard to head home.

  ‘Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.’ Mentee thought, as she scanned her surroundings. Suddenly, a glint caught her eye. When she focused, she could swear her eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. Before her was her knight in shining armor, casually walking around the courtyard smelling flowers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Valiance took comfort in the beauty of the flowered and marbled plaza, having spent the entire day getting to know the castle’s layout better and what would be her new home. The giant fountain gently ran in the center, soothing all who heard it. Giant hedge sculptures, vivid red roses, and yellow daffodils were all perfectly nurtured to be a sight for even the sorest eyes.

   “E-excuse me.” a small yet eager voice called from behind. Valiance turned and was greeted by a small pink pony, with thick ringlets for hair, and spectacles. The mare shuffled slightly closer and gently continued, “Uh, h-hello. I don’t mean to disturb but… um, well, you probably don’t remember me but-”

   “Oh! You’re the mare that was almost carried off during the attack!” Valiance blurted out with a smile.

   The little unicorn blushed, surprised that Valiance had even remembered her at all, “Yes, that was me. M-my name is Mentee, Mentee Prim.”

   Valiance’s face softened further, “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mentee. My name’s Valiance Ascalon.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Valiance and Mentee were not alone, the God Princess, Celestia, too had wished to enjoy a stroll to revel over her recent success. True to her word, the Princess oversaw the remainder of the changeling hive eradicated and their maggots turned to fertilizer. With that, and the acquisition of a new acolyte, Celestia had almost considered relieving her favorite student of her friendship studies for the day. Almost.

   Voices had tickled at Celestia’s ear from the courtyard. Since the sun had set, most ponies would have gone on their way to the dining halls, barracks, or home at that point so she had a small interest to inquire the purpose of the conversation.

   It didn’t take long for Celestia to find the source of the whispers. She easily spotted her new acolyte talking to one of the castle’s library assistants, Mentee Prim. The conversation itself was harmless, with small talk abound and a few thanks sprinkled in. However, when Mentee pulled her gift out of her satchel, Celestia’s cold stare stabbed at Mentee’s glimmering eyes. Celestia scrutinized deep into Mentee’s heart, seeing through her feeble façade. This was no mere thanks, the pink mare’s soul pounded with infatuation. The way she kicked the dust and tugged at her hair all the while coyly glancing at Valiance left no doubt in the Princess’ mind; and it filled her with vile intrigue.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   “I, uh, wanted to let you know how thankful I am for saving me. I really thought that I was gonna be a goner until you came along.” Mentee said, rubbing her neck. She tapped her hooves together in thought then reached for her satchel, “This isn’t much, b-but I hope you still enjoy it well enough.” Encased in periwinkle blue magic, Mentee unlatched her satchel to reveal a small pink box tied in a red laced ribbon.

   “Oh! Well thank you, Mentee. You really didn’t have to do that.” Valiance assured, gently taking the gift.

   “You know, I’ve been working at the castle for a while now. There've been plenty of acquaintances I’ve made… but no one to really call my friend. I was just wondering… if you would… maybe…” Mentee sheepishly stalled.

   Valiance chuckled heartily, “Of course we can be friends. It’d be nice to have company with someone who knows their way around here, not to mention someone so sweet.”

   Mentee’s stomach twisted into a knot, her already flushed face was now blistering red. In an act of feverish joy, Mentee sputtered, “T-t-thank y-you! Y-you too!” With nothing holding her back she sprinted away, nearly tripping over herself as she spun around a corner and out of sight.

  Perplexity gripped Valiance’s thoughts, ‘I wonder where she ran off to, I hope I didn’t say anything stupid. That would be embarrassing.’  Turning her attention to the box, Valiance pulled the ribbon and peered inside. Her benign smile graced her lips again. Inside, were cookies in the shapes of flowers, hearts, and bunnies. Each one was carefully decorated in a shiny pastel colored frosting, some were adorned with cute smiles to top it off.

  As Valiance innocently popped one in her mouth, a sudden chill ran up her spine when she felt the looming presence of some wicked soul behind her. “And what have we here?”

  Valiance twisted around to see the owner staring down at her through biting amethyst eyes. The moon’s rays illuminated the roses in the garden, bathing Celestia in the color red. Although initially shocked, relief washed over Valiance as she sighed, “Oh, Princess Celestia, it’s you. This is just a little thank you gift from a friend I saved.” Valiance passed the gift box to her majesty to see personally.

  The Princess shook the box slightly with a sneer, and with her magic, pulled out a heart shaped cookie. “How sweet.” she hummed as she jaggedly pulled the cookie in half. Without giving Valiance time to think, Celestia jammed one of the halves into her acolyte’s mouth before turning and walking away.

  Bewildered by Celestia’s actions, Valiance chewed her half and absentmindedly reached for another cookie, but was only met with air. It was then that she snapped back to her senses, realizing that Celestia had taken the entire box for herself. Conflicted, Valiance chose to keep her mouth shut. It was Celestia’s will, after all. But that doesn’t mean that I’m happy about it.’ Valiance huffed to herself, having really wanted to enjoy her gift. “Forget it.” Valiance groaned, throwing her hooves into the air, “I’m just gonna go to bed.”

[mimiplaysgames]

And There Are Storms We Cannot Weather (Ch. 3)

Pairing: Terranort x Anti-Aqua Rating: M Word Count: 3,303

Summary: Terranort baits her into following him—straight to Castle Oblivion.

Read on AO3

A/N: First fic of 2021 and I had to give it to the dark OTP. I spent weeks insecure about this chapter, but it’s thanks to @lyssala​ for reading through it and assuaging my fears. This is honestly the end of... the easiest part of this fic ljgfjlgfjfklgj I’ve really got my work cut out for me. Thank you all for your patience, feels like it’s been a while!

~*~*~*~*~

My Worst Brings Out The Best In You

Waking up is nothing like how she remembers it to be. Soreness ruptures her back, and her skin jolts as she peels off of knuckles of stone that dug in all night. She barely remembers if she dreamt. What she really can’t recall is if there’s such a thing as a refreshing morning. 

To top it all off, her ass is numb. Aqua groans when she stands up, stretching as hot gusts blow into the cave, throwing dust to her legs, caking the armor, nudging the shadows as they stir. Besides the wind rolling pebbles along, there’s no noise to enjoy in the Badlands, all the sun glaring down on bleached red sand.

The first thing she does is not breakfast (she must), nor a wash (she should), but to close her eyes, reading darkness. Maybe he woke up, too. 

He did.

He’s here.

Aqua shushes her Heartless. They’re squirming, reacting to the way her heart is pounding. At the mouth of the cave, Aqua surveys where she should go. The Badlands splay out with endless sunlight, no shade to cover her except for a passing dust storm. It’s not a view she’d share with anyone; it’s the worst place to sneak around. She’d be like a marker with a giant arrow, her shadow stretching to grotesque proportions depending on the way the light hits her.  If she’s going to titter around this exposed, she’d better make it count.

She starts by running then she fades away into clouds of smoke, magnetized to the nearest cool spot beneath a plateau, a stark, black slice across the dirt. Here she’ll recover and look for a different spot. As long as it heads in the same direction. 

It’s after the third resting place, a tunnel cutting through a mountain, that she notices she’s heading towards the Graveyard. Well, if she heads west she’d reach it. But her gut feeling—a twinge in her nostrils—veers her slightly north. When Aqua steps out amidst a precipice, she spots a gathering of oddly skinny rock towers stretching to touch the sky. No natural force could have made them.

On each of these towers stands a cloaked figure. Different heights, different hierarchies, with hearts inexperienced, lost, angry, bored, apathetic. There’s one with a third mind. Regardless, they all reflect the image of an old man somehow, like a plague they’ve infected themselves with. 

Ah, there he is, wearing black like all the rest. 

She inches closer, melting into a shadow cut off by a boulder, peeking over the edge. On the tallest tower is someone she hates to recognize. The only one without a hood. Bald. Old. Breathing with the excitement of a bully crushing dirt into another child’s hair. He’s about to land something big and Aqua knows what it is but she doesn’t care anymore. She just wants him dead for stealing.

Xehanort waves a hand and Aqua ducks back. He couldn’t have seen her. 

But when she risks a glance, most of the figures burst into a fire of purple and black, disappearing. 

Except for the only one she wants, of course.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if they knew she was there. Aqua thrusts forward, gliding over the sand, flying up parallel to one of the rock towers until she gracefully floats back on her feet at the top. 

He stands across from her, a field of what looks like ruins in the distance behind him. He takes off his hood and draws a proud smirk on his face.

“I’ve proposed they take care of you,” he says, proceeding to undress his gloves one finger at a time.

It’s a funny way of saying he asked them to get rid of her, and maybe Aqua should be nervous about it, but she tells herself that she can handle twelve nameless men. That is, until she thinks about their empty spots in this ritual circle.

Is this supposed to intimidate her? She has to hand it to him, he’s got spine. “Looks like they left you to do it yourself.”

There’s a flash—a knot at the edge of one eyebrow—of a shot of rage, like he’s about to chew her head off. Then he flashes teeth. He smiles too much.

“Then we shall begin,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “Mind a detour?”

Energy sparks at the tips of her fingers, readying a Keyblade but she stops short of summoning it. A detour? He’s not making a move. Aqua leads a staredown, watching for signs of what he’s plotting.

But he doesn’t plot. He steps backward off his pillar with that ridiculous gremlin smile as if to let himself fall. An inky doorway swirls open and swallows him whole. 

Aqua bursts across the chasm, throwing herself into the same portal. She won’t lose him this time.

She lands on a muddy, brittle pathway suspended in the air, where clouds blot the sky so there’s no horizon to see. She lands on what could have been where she first conjured her very own Rainfell. Where she slapped Terra in the face that one and only time. Where she made love to him, where she picked up her Master’s abandoned Keyblade for the first and last time—it’s all erased here, ground and packaged into a single path where even the mountains eroded to dust. It’s worse than the Badlands. It’s home. 

The castle stands in the same condition she left it in years ago: painted the color of stale, crusty shit and topped with a bright turquoise roof, like a surprise gift to give your worst enemy. Warped with upright towers, towers that jut out to the side, and towers that hang upside down, it’s disjointed and bizarre, a puzzle with mismatched pieces forced together. Which is exactly the point: let the intruder wander, let him be lost, let him forget and enjoy the oblivion. 

He has thrown away his cloak at the entrance of the castle, Terra’s armor adorning his left arm. He has his back to her but there’s a tension in his shoulders as though he’s pretending not to notice she’s behind him. 

There’s one reason, and one only, why he’d bring her here. Aqua readies the Keyblade.

“Like an animal,” he quips. She can imagine him snickering. “Always prepared to deal the first blow.”

She strikes. He dodges. She’s right—he is snickering, making a show of gripping the door handle like bait asking to get caught. “Stop,” she hisses. Which is stupid. Of course he wouldn’t.

Of course he’d turn the handle. Of course he’d glance at her, tilting his head as an invitation to come inside with him. 

“You don’t have the right!” she yells.

He laughs, leaving the door open for her. 

Terra. She could lose him today, forever. If they spend hours wandering the rooms of this castle, they’d lose memories with no way to predict which ones go first. The painful? The nostalgic? Either way, there’s no such thing as Terra and Aqua holding hands if they are gone.

Aqua tackles the front door before it slams in her face. It’s heavy, resisting her at first before swaying momentum and throwing her off balance. Instead of a grand entrance hall with a proud foyer, luscious stained glass displays, mirrored marbled stairways, and a warm hello, it’s just one room. 

An empty blank room, so clean that she’s the stain, framed by polished sculptures and a rose dais she doesn’t recognize. It’s not like she had a design in mind when she transformed the castle. There’s no memory of where this came from, no record of it ever written. Not even from Eraqus, who had an idea and not a clue. She takes one step; it echoes like a screech. The white on white on white glare back. The walls stand like sterilized canvases, starched for a bleed of whatever color in exchange for a few of her thoughts. They know. This isn’t home. There’s nothing here. Just him.

“Lest you forget, this was my home, too.” He smiles.

Aqua nearly spits that it isn’t, wasn’t, never will be, but that isn’t true, is it? He’s pleased with himself, leaning on the door on the opposite side with his elbow propped up as though the castle is a casual friend he’s embracing.

“Now, isn’t this exactly where you would prefer me to be?” he asks. 

“Acting like an idiot?”

“Somewhere familiar. Old family. Fond memories. A place to call your sanctuary.”

She shrugs it off. “Not much of a spectacle anymore.”

His eyebrows worm one by one. He’s lucky he has Terra’s face, otherwise she’d shave them. “But a spectacle worth revisiting.”

“There’s nothing left,” she snaps. “This place is empty.”

He strokes a finger on the door, a gesture that is halfway between Is that so? and Not so fast. “Except one room.”

Hunger churns in his eyes and she’s uncomfortable with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s about to drag her by her ankles. 

“Don’t bother asking. It’s not like you’d ever see it,” she says.

His nostrils flare, surveying disgust as he scans the room from floor to ceiling. There’s a ferocity there, an ignition of something ready to deteriorate. Aqua settles for what’s coming, claws extending as they fasten her Keyblade. If she tears flesh today, so be it. It will only be a little. 

How he gets himself to smirk the next moment is a secret she’d have to learn. “Then a bargain. The Chamber of Waking, and I won’t harm him.”

Aqua grunts and cuts an arc through the air with her Keyblade, firing a sphere of energy dark enough to absorb light. He blocks it with a wave of his hand and he chuckles like there’s not a day worth living if you’re not close to dying. 

Summoning his giant Keyblade, he swings back, rupturing the tile beneath him as it cracks and crumbles towards her. She dodges, but an explosion bursts from beneath and knocks her off balance. As she turns over to stand up, he’s already looming over her. 

They’re in a tight space, the walls knitting together and forcing them to take intimate strikes and forgo the fancy spells. Tinks and shears and blasts echo as though one hit is actually three, the sound of their blades bashing against each other. Her Heartless can’t form a congregation here. He doesn’t bother with his Guardian either, too cumbersome and clunky to maneuver inside.

He’s slower than her, but the close proximity means she’s running out of space to dodge his wide reach. Every hit he throws is the force of a boulder destroying a mountain as it avalanches, testing her balance, stealing the seconds that she needs to steady herself and parry the next. 

She readies a spell. He blows the tile beneath them, an earthquake tripping her feet.

Every curse she scrambles with—a Sleep, Confusion, anything to throw him off—does nothing, as though he’s feasting on her efforts. She should’ve known better.

It’s fine. Aqua’s tough without her Heartless, tough without needing to trust anyone but herself. Glowing with an icy hotness that burns like frozen snow on exposed skin, she’s about to multiply—

“You will not,” he says.

He pummels into her like a canon, his armored hand around her throat as she collides back onto the door behind her. Not the front door, no—she’s foolish and distracted enough not to notice that he’s been circling her in this small, square room. He’s pinning her against the other, the one that would lead to Ven but wouldn’t. It creaks under the weight of her body and the pressure of his strength.

“I could lock you up in this purgatory,” he whispers, his breath brushing her cheek, her nose, her lips. Smiling. “Or you could take me to him.”

Aqua pants, her fingers scratching the surface of the door. The thought of being left behind—

Like choked breath, she stops the moment she sees the proud expression on his face. 

It’s a bluff.

Calm down. He wants to scare her. It’s a bluff. 

He needs her to get inside regardless, even if he doesn’t know everything. That you need the Master’s Defender at all is a secret only shared with those who wield it. He wouldn’t know. Despite how desperately she wants to dig her way out, Aqua keeps her chin high, staring him down. She scoffs through her nose. 

His eyes twinkle as he reads her. Aqua tries not to lead him on with any assumptions. Keep it stoic.

But there’s something about the way she’s doing it that’s betraying her. She’s failing with every second that he blinks. “Ah,” he cooes, “you do not have the means—”

Claws into flesh—she pierces his wrist, right through the leather in between the metal, and he yelps. Pulls off of her. She closes the gap with black fire and cold fingers and the intent to rip an iceberg in half. He has his arms over his head, his Keyblade forgotten as he pathetically defends himself against a rabid monster flailing at him.

All she sees is the opportunity to take back. Priming a sharp hand over his face (and at such the perfect angle to peel it off his skull), she lunges forward and pins him under her. Reaches to his waist. Pulls the orange Wayfinder out of his pocket.

He yells and throws her off of him. His pupils shrink to nothing, his Keyblade burning with an unnatural color. He’s clutching his chest as though his heart is pounding too quickly and is about to plop dead. Aqua is on her knees, the Wayfinder’s chain threaded around her red knuckles.

Move. She needs to move while he towers over her, a trickle of drool seeping from his lips, his white hair messy. He’s manic, searching her and searching the floor and searching the walls, moaning. Aqua has to move. Aqua sits frozen. 

Has he forgotten where he is? 

Is this… 

She whispers his name, barely audible.

For a moment, he stares past her. He growls and throws himself on her, the back of her head hitting the floor. Pupils so small his eyes are golden orbs, two little false lights in the dark, tempting you to go deeper into the fog where a monster waits. Like the Guardian’s, watching her take her last breath underwater. As though he knows no weapons, or no magic, he squeezes a fist around her hand, his fingers prying the Wayfinder out of hers with such strength that he could amputate them. Aqua chooses her fingers and lets go. 

Once he has it back in his possession, he stumbles off of her, heaving and hunched over. With the Wayfinder to his chest, his pupils slowly grow back. Brows knitted, lips quivering, eyes lost. That’s not a face Xehanort would make. 

Then he runs. He bolts down the terrace, disappearing in a cloud of smoke, leaving Aqua on the floor, leaving the doors open. Terra’s body is traveling like a shooting star. She can feel it propel somewhere in the far sky, where the stars hover above the clouds. She could follow him, fight more and more and more until she drags him to the ocean kicking and screaming and losing.

But it aches.

But she’s tired. She’s fought, and they’ve matched the same games over and over, with nothing to show for them except sore throats and scratched cheeks and defeated bodies slumped over floors like they weren’t dignified Keyblade wielders but wronged children.

It aches. It aches more than anything the Realm of Darkness threw at her, as though a hollow has cracked inside, collapsing her lungs into a pit of gravity and threatening to take the rest. If this is how it feels to be human again, why bother going back? What good is it to pretend that fate is kind and hearts are strong and one day he’ll realize what just happened and wake up with his blue eyes?

Instead, she should try to find Ven on her own, without her Master’s Defender. Her heart will lead the way, let her keep her memories. Or she’d lose it all, walking in circles, be the ghost that haunts this castle and create a legend that will keep her name immortal. It’s a stupid idea.

Aqua rolls over to her side, the tile underneath jutting into her hips and ribs. The doors he left open frame the outside, a dry and empty nightmare. She misses the sound of pattering, the smell of moisture, the promise of green every year. The Land of Departure certainly had its dreary days when the clouds were thick, but the light never dimmed. It would rain and all would be clear, the raindrops bulbous as they pummeled and exploded into miniature puddles.

Maybe the reason why the dirt is so rancid here is because rain never fell on Castle Oblivion. If she and Terra were caught under an onslaught, they’d continue to par. Water never stopped her flow and he couldn’t be bothered to slow down. 

There was one obnoxious day when Terra grabbed her elbow and dragged her to the front porch, just under the awning in an effort to keep dry but it was futile—they were still pricked by frigid droplets. Beneath the rain, his blue eyes were less noticeable. His dark hair weighed heavy but it was thick enough to perk up if with less gusto. He smirked at her, and she knew what it meant.

She smacked his arm while he glanced through the entrance as he watched for signs of someone coming. If the Master, they’d be in trouble. If Ven, they’d have to suffer relentless teasing, and maybe pay off his blackmail. 

When Terra was sure no one would see them, he went for it in spite of her whispered giggles and hushes. A warmth on his lips that burned on hers when the rest of her was cold, drenched, and shivering. 

I wanted to know what you taste like in the rain. 

He had tasted like water, a spring from the mountain.

She was close to Terra today. She’s sure of it. 

Tied to her sashes is her blue Waydfinder in immaculate condition, glass stronger than metal with a vibrance that’s foreign to her. 

It sits in her claw, blood red framing its brilliant shine. She’s done so well not to stare at it every time she felt nostalgic, but here she is now: a damn mess, with scales that cover skin, rough and pointed at the tips. Cold with layers of calloused leather that never molts unless she tears it off, building on top of her knuckles that folds as she retracts her claws, like there’s something slithering beneath. Her hands are now beyond repair, so thick that she’s unable to feel what she touches. 

I’m ugly, she realizes, keeping her claws contracted so they don’t scratch the surface of her Wayfinder. It’s still pretty. 

Dull stars float down to the entrance of the castle. Not stars, but a plethora of orbs, pairs of them as her Heartless pile on top of each other and funnel inside, squirming themselves free. It would have been easier for them to make a line. They’re silly, sometimes. 

Something small butts its head into her—the six-year-old, scratching the tile as it makes space up against her belly. It lets her wrap her arm around it. Another Heartless nuzzles up to her chin. One sits at the crown of her head, and another nestles at the small of her back. More tack on, forming a seabed to let her rest. 

It would’ve been lonely otherwise. The night seems flippant now, impatient for the sun to come up in a world where it can’t shine. 

[cowperviolet]

A Fantasy Writer’s Guide to Entremets

Ok - I know that fantasy worlds don’t have to be medieval-influenced. However, most do tend to have historical elements from different eras worked into them; so why not entremets, especially since they have their origins in the feasts of antiquity, and have been deployed through the Middle Ages and Renaissance both? 

If anything, they fit the Rule of Cool. 

So, what are the entremets? To put it very simply, they are the elements of the feast that do not, strictly speaking, belong on the menu. They can be statues, performances, automata (I guess I should put steampunk in the tags), tableaux, even edible-stuff-that’s-just-really freaky. 

Here are some examples (most are drawn from the Burgundian court, because it was the most Extra one):

(Technically) edible stuff:

A lamprey burrowed into a river bottom - that is, a lamprey meat is roasted, then covered in a thick sauce made from combining its blood with spices and vinegar to create the effect of mud.

Cigne revestu - a cooked swan redressed in its skin and feathers.

Doreures - poultry is stuffed with a mixture of pork, bacon, eggs, spices, pine-nut paste, and currants, then roasted; the leftover stuffing is made into balls and roasted as well. Then everything is covered in gold and silver leaf. Because they can. 

Coqz heaumez - a stuffed roasted hen is seated atop a piglet and given a helmet of glued paper and a lance. These should be covered with gold- or silver-leaf for lords, or with white, red, or green tin-leaf, depending on the hen’s station in life, I guess.

Statuary:

The portrayal of the story of the Swan Knight - a wooden box with wheels is constructed; water-filled lead coffer holding a minever-covered parchment boat and a swan sculpture tied together with a golden chain are placed within.A cloth painted to represent water is then attached to hide men who are going to move the box around underneath. 

The Cleveland fountain - an octagonal Gothic tower in three tiers of gilt-silver. Liquid (can be perfumed/rosewater) rises through the central tube and issues from the mouths of the four animals at the top. Then it cascades down each level through spouts in the forms of human and animal faces. The water jets turn a series of wheels attached to bells, making everything whirl and ring.

Something I am going to leave as a direct quote, because I can’t even - ‘At a special table there was a high pillar, on which was seated an ymage of a young woman, nude except for her long blonde hair which covered her back to her waist; on her head was a rich hat; [she was] wrapped, so as to preserve propriety, in a cloth like a fluttering veil with Greek letters on it in many places, beautifully written in violet; and this ymage jetted hippocras from her breasts the entire duration of the supper. And near her, braced against the dresser, was another pillar, not as tall, but a little thicker, like a platform, on which was attached, by an iron chain, a very beautiful and entirely alive lion, as a sign to guard and defend the ymage; against his pillar was written on a charge in gold: Do not touch my lady’. 

A (thank God) fake fire-breathing lion - the sculpture’s mouth is lined with brass-lined mouth, with paper teeth glued within. Camphor and a little cotton are put there, and lit just before it’s presented to the guests.

A ship - such as a miniature anchored carrack laden with various merchandise, with miniature figures of sailors to complete the picture.

Spice-carrying miniature figures of animals -  these could be large elephants carrying castles, dromedaries with large baskets, unicorns, stags, etc. The animals would be bedecked with gold, silver and azure, their coverings decorated with gold thread and silk. Each of them carried the arms of a lord subject to, in one particular case, the Duke of Burgundy, with the name of the town or lordship. But really, any overlord fits. 

Tableaux/mini-plays:

These are highly specific things, tailored to each occasion - whether, political, pious, marital or simply entertaining - so I’m going to describe particular instances that can be, however, easily dismembered into elements:

The entremet of the Holy Church was something presented by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy at his Feast of the Pheasant in 1454. It began with an armed giant in a long green silk robe with the turban on his head entering the room leading an elephant covered in silk. On the elephant’s back rode a lady wearing a white satin robe with a black coat and headdress (i.e. looking nun-like, but not quite). Addressing the noble company, the lady revealed that she was the Holy Church. As one does, she delivered a long complaint poem to those present, detailing her fallen state after the Turkish capture of Constantinople, and then asked for their aid. In the Ye Olde Photo Op, the Duke drew out a letter promising to aid his fellow Christians and had his herald read it aloud to the assembled guests. Having heard this assurance of aid, the Holy Church blessed him and was led out on her elephant. The evening culminated in the nobles offering immediate written vows to sign up for a crusade. 

The wedding of Charles the Bold and Margaret of York involved a series of carefully staged entremets chock-full of symbolism, given the touchy political nature of their union:

First, a man dressed as leopard came into the room riding a ‘unicorn’ caparisoned in a cloth painted with the English royal arms. The leopard held an English banner in one paw and a daisy in the other. Charles’ maître d’hôtel took the flower and presented it to the groom, saying: “Most excellent, high and victorious prince, my awesome and sovereign lord, the proud and awesome leopard of England comes to visit the noble company; and for your consolation and the consolation of your allies, countries and subjects, makes you the present of a noble marguerite.”

The second entremet was, in turn, dedicated to Margaret. A giant ‘lion’ entered, his covering painted with the arms of Burgundy.  Madame de Beaugrand, the dwarf of Margaret’s new stepdaughter Mary of Burgundy, rode upon it, accompanied by two noblemen. Madame de Beaugrand was dressed in a cloth-of-gold and violet version of a shepherdess’s garb and held a basket painted with the names of various virtues, a Burgundian banner, and a small dog on a leash. Then the ‘lion’ circled the room and sang a song welcoming the “beautiful shepherdess” who is “the source of hope, solace, strength, pride, peace, and safety for all the ruled lands.”

As a last note, possibly just to highlight the lavish and cosmopolitan nature of the court into which she has married, a highly realistic simulated camel saddled “in the Saracen manner” entered the room, with a man dressed in an Eastern fashion and two giant baskets on its back. He opened the baskets and took from them “birds strangely painted, as though they came from India,” and released them to fly around the room. They landed on various tables to the sounds of trumpets.

‘A marvellously large and beautiful stag entered the room, all white with large golden antlers, and covered in a rich covering of green and vermilion silk, as far as I could tell. A young boy twelve years old was mounted on the stag, dressed in a short robe of crimson velvet, wearing a little black slashed hat on his head, and shod in fine shoes. This child held on to the antlers of the stag with both hands. As he entered the room, he began on a song in a very high and clear voice, and the stag seemed to sing the tenor part, without there appearing to be any other person about save the child and artifice of the stag, and the song they sang was called ‘Je ne voy onques la pareille etc.’ [I have never seen her like].’ (Olivier de la Marche’s memoires, 1562). 

‘A watchman on the tower made as if to carry out his watch, and recognising that the tents and pavilions represented towns that were friendly, called for a fanfare of trumpets, which was performed by four boars from the windows in the tower. Then four lifelike goats appeared at the same windows, playing a motet on sackbuts and shawms; followed by four wolves with flutes, then four donkeys singing a song in four parts. For the fifth and last entremets, the watchman asked for a ‘morisque’ dance to entertain the company. Seven lifelike monkeys emerged along a balcony rail from a door in the tower. They found a mercer asleep by his wares and proceeded to play with them. They danced a morisque; then the tables were cleared and the guests danced’. (Ibid.)

[yumeka36]

I just got home from the Frozen 2 advanced screening at Disney Studios (as pictured above, got more swag than I thought I would). Gonna give my immediate thoughts and comments, with a more coherent post at a later date. Obviously, if you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read below:

WARNING! MAJOR FROZEN 2 SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT!

-I’ve been listening to “Show Yourself” non stop since the soundtrack came out and it was gorgeous seeing the accompanying animation. The song starts as Elsa is riding Nokk towards Ahtohallan and continues as she makes her way through the cave. What was also unexpected for me is that she transforms into her “final form” at the end of the song, so she’s wearing that outfit throughout a good portion of the movie, not just the epilogue, so I hope that means there will be more merchandise for it!

-After that, she wanders through Ahtohallan which is made up of moving “sculptures” made of snow/ice that show memories: she sees some of herself and Anna when they were young playing with Olaf, various people in Arendelle, and of Iduna and Agnarr (I believe Iduna was saying something about being afraid to reveal what she really is, a Northuldra). Some funny parts, Elsa walks by a memory of herself at the end of “Let It Go” and makes a face like “yeah, I was silly back then” XD But the best part was when she walks by a scene of Anna and Hans about to dance at the coronation. She gives it a cold look and then breaks the Hans sculpture, lol.

-The important memory she finds is that King Runeard was using the dam against the Northuldra - something about cutting off their resources so they’d be forced to trade with Arendelle, or something like that, I don’t remember exactly. A poignant part was when Elsa first sees the memory of Runeard and he’s talking about how he hates and doesn’t trust anyone who uses magic, to which she says angrily that his fear is blinding him. And again, Elsa is wearing her final outfit during all this, so there was so much time to ogle it XD

-The “gone too far” part is when she follows the memory of Runeard as it fades down into a deep abyss. He was talking about something suspicious regarding the Northuldra, so she decided to jump down into the depths to find out even though she remembers the song’s warning. She sees that Runeard attacked (and likely killed) the Northuldra leader. She begins freezing as she’s down there and before she gets completely frozen, she sends a burst of magic up above, calling out to Anna (and the fact that Elsa “dies” here is proof that she’s not immortal even after becoming the fifth spirit). Her magic reaches Anna and Olaf in the cave and shows them what happened. They realize they have to destroy the dam but Olaf starts to “flurry” - pieces of snowflakes peel off him and drift away, and he tells Anna that Elsa isn’t okay. Anna pulls Olaf into her lap and holds him there as he fades away. He doesn’t melt exactly and we don’t see the full process: we see his flurries gently flow out of the cave and land in a pile somewhere else. Bruhni watches sadly from a ledge below.

-The saddest thing to me was that, after the aforementioned scene of Olaf’s “death,” the scene fades to black, then opens up again overlooking the same cave but it looks like a different time of day, then cuts to Anna crying inside - so she was literally crying alone in the cave for what could have been hours! I thought right after Olaf melts is when she’d start singing The Next Right Thing, but she spends who knows how long grieving. That is just too sad 8_8 Before she starts singing, she says “Olaf...Elsa...what do I do?” My heart shattered then. Another part that shattered it more was when Anna confronts Matthias and the soldiers as they try to prevent her from approaching the dam. When they ask her why it has to be destroyed, she tells them and says “My sister gave her life for the truth, we can’t lose anyone else.”

-Oh my gosh, the reunion at the end was my favorite part and so sweet~ After the mist around the forest fades, Anna and Kristoff approach the pillars with Anna looking like she’s ready to burst into tears...until some snow crystals flutter around her and then behind to where the shore is (not sure if it’s the shore of the Dark Sea since it’s daylight at this time, or it could just be a nearby beach). She sees Elsa riding Nokk - she starts running toward her but then stops because she’s still not sure it’s really Elsa. When Elsa says her name and holds out her arms, she runs to her and they share a beautiful hug (while Anna is sobbing). Honestly I can’t remember exactly what was said because I was an emotional wreck at that point, but Elsa tells Anna that she’s the fifth spirit, that Anna saved her, and that the bridge has two sides: herself here and Anna in Arendelle, and they’d fix the past wrongs together. And I also loved the fact that Kristoff comes over and is relieved that Elsa’s okay: he says “Elsa, you’re alright!” and gives her a hug, then (humorously) says “ you look different...did you cut your hair?” She also gives Sven a little pet. I’m so glad they included this part as it shows that Kristoff doesn’t just see Elsa as a cockblock to Anna, lol. Kristoff proposes to Anna here as well (Sven tears up a little seeing it XD)

-As for Olaf’s revival, Elsa tells Anna “I have a question for you” “What is it?” “Do you want to build a snowman?” She then concentrates and we see the pile of Olaf’s “flurries” come flying down from the cave to become Olaf again. Elsa says it’s a good thing water has memory, implying that he still remembers everything despite being “resurrected.” The epilogue just had so many cute moments - Anna and Elsa share another hug as they walk back to the stone pillars, Elsa wipes away a tear on Anna’s face, they put there foreheads together at one point when they’re talking, Elsa takes Anna’s hand and leads her to one of the now tamed earth giants and they both gently touch his giant nose, and Frohana share a warm hug. I cannot wait to get HD screenshots of it all!

-And for Anna’s coronation? To be honest, it didn’t seem like a coronation to me - it literally just had Kai announcing Anna as she walks outside (onto a stage I think? Don’t remember exactly) but right after that she’s out in the streets with Olaf, Kristoff, and Sven, who are dressed up. So it must have been some kind of event, but wouldn’t the coronation have a party in the castle and a ceremony, like Elsa had? We then see Matthias outside with another Arendelle citizen (he’s discovering the new technology of photograph, lol) - wouldn’t they be part of the ceremony if there was a coronation, and not just out in the streets doing whatever. It just didn’t seem like a major event was happening, I’ll have to see the movie again. Regardless, they reveal statues of young Iduna and Agnarr (they should have had statues of Anna and Elsa too!) and Anna notices Gale flying about and asks if he/she (does Gale have a gender?) to deliver a letter to Elsa. Gale carries it over to the forest and Elsa reads it. As we know, it’s a reminder about charades. Anna ends the letter saying “I love you” to which Elsa says “I love you too, sis” (that’s where this line that we heard in one of the teasers came from - pretty crazy they’d use a line from the very end of the movie, knowing we wouldn’t figure it out!)

-I mostly talked about the ending here but I’ll say a few things that stood out in the rest of the movie to me: Some Things Never Change was adorable. Anna and Elsa share a sweet hug at the end, during the “holding on tight to you” lines. And I absolutely cracked up during Kristoff’s verse when he’s doing Sven’s voice and telling him about getting down on one knee with the ring - some nearby townspeople see him and it looks like he’s proposing to Sven and they get the most awkward looks on their faces XD The scene in their parents’ ship was really emotional: Anna and Elsa clinging to each other with tears in their eyes as they see the memory of their parents take shape...my heart was breaking. The ensuing scene where Elsa’s overcome with guilt and runs outside with Anna telling her she’s not responsible for their actions, and she believes in her more than anything, etc., More was said between them here and I’m having trouble remembering it exactly but it was deep.

-Oh, and the post-credits scene was hilarious: it’s Olaf telling the events of the story to Marshmallow and the Snowgies (Frozen Fever is canon!) just like he does earlier when he describes the first Frozen to Matthias and the others (”it began with two sisters...”) The funniest part was his dramatizing lines of the latter part of the story - ”Elsa is dead,” “Olaf is dead,” “Anna’s crying alone” - it’s hard to describe, it’s funnier when you see it.

Later I’ll write a post with more coherent thoughts about the movie itself and not just a spoiler list - I might do that soon or wait until I see it again this weekend. But I will say that I loved it - having seen it for myself, I truly believe there’s no “tragic separation” that we’ve been fearing. There’s really nothing bittersweet about it, nothing like Anna saying “will I ever see you again?” because it’s a given that they can still be a family and nothing is keeping them from seeing each other whenever they want. At this point, it’s not that I dislike the ending as it is “I want to see what happens next!” It left me even hungrier for more Frozen, like a short reassuring us that they’re still a family by having another charades scene or something like that. Or another movie is always welcome! There was also some lore/plot-wise things I’m a little confused about, but that’ll be for another post. It’s 1am here and I need to decide if I can sleep or not, lol. If you have any questions, please send them via direct message. I’ll either answer them right away, or tomorrow if I do manage to sleep tonight.

The shock of finally seeing this movie after six years of pining hasn’t sunk in yet but it will soon.

[hatari-translations]

Klemens interview about his furniture, 24.5.20

On May 24th, an interview with Klemens about the furniture he’s made was published on mbl.is. It’s a pretty interesting one, as he mentions having ADHD, talks a lot about his thoughts on art in a way more elaborate manner than any previous interview, and makes some quirky jokes such as declaring that one of his favorite things to do at home is picking his nose.

Below is a bullet point translation of what's said in the interview (not a word-for-word translation of the entire thing, but everything new said in it is there, and there are a lot of full quotes).

(Content warning: bodily fluids mention.)

The intro explains that Klemens thinks visually and contributes stylistically both to Hatari and his home. He learned carpentry before he joined a band, and he's worked on designing furniture alongside his composing.

"I learned furniture building at the Technical College Reykjavík and then went into product design at the Academy of the Arts, but found my passions lay elsewhere. I needed a broader spectrum to create and found an outlet for my ADHD in visual art. My wife Ronja Mogensen and I are classmates at the Academy of the Arts."

Klemens has always been creating things, for as long as he can remember. "I've always found joy in creating, and nothing is as creative as a childlike nature. After all, you lose your innocence somewhere on an abandoned playground and then spend most of your life trying to find it again. Creativity makes the world go round endlessly in our heads and sparks our imagination, which lets us have the most magnificent adventures, express and cope with loss, grief, fear, disappointment, joy, hope, the entire spectrum of emotions that are often so difficult to spit out. I've always sought out music as an outlet for that, but also carpentry and visual art, whether it's making cucumbers out of mud, making sculptures out of semen and hair, or making chairs out of wood."

The interviewer asks what makes a good home in his mind. "They say that home is where your family is, and there's a lot to that. Some years ago I might not have said that, and would never have imagined being a father of two and engaged in a passionate relationship, but the home and love go hand in hand, and you need to decide on where you want to live and die, so I see the home as more of a state of mind. A good home is a decently healthy mind, but if I were to imagine my dream home as a physical place, it's a house in the countryside with a workshop, a place to make music, some chickens and maybe a goat called Old Túbal, a brook that we can wade into naked, a vegetable garden and a greenhouse with fruit, a giant treehouse castle that we can climb in, and we built the house and everything in it ourselves."

He first discovered carpentry in a woodworking class in primary school; as far as he can remember, the first thing he made was a lamp for his parents with a face carved into it, though he's not sure if it was meant to be a self-portrait. He also made a baseball bat, which was subsequently stolen. The first proper furniture he did was for the Technical College when he was nineteen, a chair and a cabinet in a 70s-esque style with a modern touch. He found joy in creating a unique, useful object that you could carry with you throughout your life and perhaps even longer.

The interviewer says she heard his graduation project was sold on the spot. He corrects her and says he actually made a second copy to interior designer Thelma Friðriksdóttir's specifications, because he wanted to let his grandkids inherit the original.

Klemens recites a poem that he wrote with Matthías to encompass the core of Klemens' art sensibilities. It reads thus: I am a naivist perfectionist. I take making a fool of myself very seriously. I contemplate my own navel with humility. I'm willing to do the work of pitying myself. I capitulate to art. I want to have perfect control over my art.

"I notice that when I myself am in frame, it takes on a different tone than when the painting, the sculpture, the furniture, the evidence get to speak for themselves. On the one hand, I myself take on the role of the artist and the subject, comment on the medium through the medium and poke fun at myself while I'm at it. The artist Klemens creates a photo series that parodies the concept of photo series and simultaneously parodies Klemens. When Klemens takes on the role of 'pop star in a political supergroup' it means a radical staging where he embodies the sexy porn boy, a perverted narcissist in the depths of self-pity. Even if you use humour as a shield, you have to face that in the end, art comes from yourself. Thus, you're always vulnerable before art. It becomes an endless navel-gazing at the same time as I hope it encompasses some wider context - is bigger than my own personal experiences. When I step out of frame you see a totally different tone, like with the cabinet or the sculptures. I'm more humble before my creation and I seek a texture that could simultaneously be called naivistic, expressionistic but also formalistic and colored by a palate-driven compulsion. Unrestrained figures emerge and take on a life of their own without being commentary on the medium of painting and parodying the one who paints it."

When the interviewer asks about his studies at the Academy of the Arts, he admits he was on paternity leave for a year and also missed the second half of the first year because of Hatari's ESC journey, but it was fun and he's looking forward to continuing in the fall.

What can you tell me about the furniture you've made for your home? "It gives the house a certain character and I'm proud of it."

During the COVID-19 epidemic, he made a set of bookshelves for his parents, which he says was mostly them wanting to support a poor unemployed artist in a difficult time. Originally he was going to do something very simple from existing components but then he just kind of unthinkingly started making it all from scratch without even drawing up more than a rough sketch, and he was as excited as his parents to see how it'd turn out.

How would you describe your home? "Muy grandioso!"

Who lives in your home and do you and your fiancée have the same tastes? "The pillar of the household is my wife Ronja, and then we share it with our daughters Valkyrja and Aþena, 'V-kay and A-J'. Aþena doesn't have much in the way of taste yet as she's only ten months old, two-year-old Valkyrja admires everything and thinks everything is art, so she's not picky except when it comes to precisely how you dunk Graham crackers into a glass of milk. Ronja and I may not have similar tastes, but her strengths make up for my weaknesses and she's very patient with my perfectionism."

What's your favorite thing to do at home? "Watching the kids laugh and cry, watering the plants, picking my nose and passing time."

Klemens doesn't currently have his own workshop, but the owners of a small furniture business have kindly given him access to their workshop, and the Academy of the Arts has a good one as well.

As far as Klemens is concerned he's already living the dream, asked if there's anything he'd do with nothing holding him back.

Klemens will mix together furniture he's received for free or bought used and tries to make it work. He tries to avoid mass-produced furniture even though it can be beautiful; what he loves most is uniqueness. He wants to build as much himself as he can.

What time periods in furniture design appeal to you most? "Mid-century modern and slick."

When you look for ideas, where do you look? "Into the depths of my subconscious and to Foucault."

Is a garden or outside area important when you have kids? "Oh yes. The new trampoline, admittedly mass-produced, has really delivered."

What's your favorite kind of wood to build out of? "Oak."

What's your favorite color to paint your walls? "That depends completely on the context of the room, the lighting and the shape of it, but I love really bright colors and want a lot of those."

Is there anything you're good at at home that nobody knows about? "I'm naturally very limber."