#etoilebleu

[numberforaname]

@etoilebleu " What? Have I got something in my teeth? " (from June)

Diego's gaze narrows as he studies June, the tension between them crackling like electricity in the air. Every instinct screams at him to be ready, to defend himself, but there's something about her demeanor that's throwing him off. She’s acting like she doesn’t recognize him, like they’re just strangers crossing paths—but he knows better. They’ve crossed swords too many times for her to forget, and the thought that she might be trying to pull one over on him now makes his blood boil.

He takes another step closer, his boots scuffing against the floor as he closes the gap. His hand, almost on autopilot, moves to his belt, fingers wrapping around the hilt of his knife. The familiar weight of it is a comfort, a reminder that he's always ready for a fight, even when it’s against someone like her—someone who knows him almost too well.

"Cut the shit," he says, voice low and dangerous, each word laced with the barely restrained anger that’s simmering just beneath the surface. "You know exactly who I am. We’ve been through this before—too many damn times for you to play dumb now."

He takes a moment, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of recognition, any crack in the mask she’s putting up. But she’s good—too good. And that only pisses him off more.

"You think I’m that fucking stupid? That I’d forget everything that’s happened between us? Every fight, every word? I’m not falling for whatever game you’re trying to play this time." His grip tightens around the knife, and for a second, he considers drawing it, just to see if that’ll break through her facade. But he hesitates—something about the situation isn’t sitting right, and he can’t afford to make a mistake now.

[riskitbrisket]

@etoilebleu / plotted starter.

When people who weren't a version of Five showed up in the diner it festered an unwanted ball of concern, when those people couldn't remember every single detail, the ball grew soil and planted itself within Five. who were they? why are they here? so many unanswered questions made him feel unstable, like all the calculations he failed to solve, like all the people he couldn't save. Unknown meant no control. It's been a week since she arrived, June. at first, he barely spoke to her and when he did it was an interrogation with the promise of food, after a few days he had her help around the diner - kept a close eye, watched how she interacted with the other hims. he was no closer to trust a week later than he was on day one but the thoughts of killing her when she fell asleep at a booth have started to dwindle and now, despite his protests, she is here, out of the subway system within - coming along. He needs to go back and correct a horrible mistake for someone, change their life forever, and watch it ripple across the timeline, he hasn't told her that because doesn't share his details with anyone - out here, he isn't even supposed to be Five.

" So, how long will it be before you leave the diner and me alone?" right now, they're sitting at a coffee shop in this small, nowhere-special town. it consisted of a block, half the storefronts closed or for rent, the second half were small mom-and-pop shops, the pharmacy, a harbor shop, a plant shop. it was resource shops and everyone still acted like it was the old days, cars, and simple living. " since you tagged along and i won't be able to conceal what i'm here for, for much longer, you see that man over there getting out of the red truck? well, he goes into the pharmacy, grabs his medication and comes out but the wife is angry cause she found out he gambled away most of their savings" these small, human details that lead to such catastrophic events have always made Five questions it all, how frail time can actually be. " according to her, she goes into a fit of rage because their house is falling apart, they can't send their son to college, so on and so forth, she ends up running him over... my task is, to make sure that never happens, so, what will it be June? you want to stop her from running her husband over?"

[kylo-wrecked]

4. does your muse find any specific features particularly attractive?

{ 🍵 You know you want: Smuggler!Ben, The Scoundrel }

It's Eris' job to accept Ben, and the whole Ben, in all his motley glory. She signed a planet up for this, by the way. It's a short list, but it kicks, so buckle up, Your Majesty.

For the physicals,

He's an ass-man.

Wide hips (feminine/near-human/humanoid)

Thighs (near-human/but you know... no, you don't want to know)

Tails

Up top, generally,

Lips

Fangs

Multiple eyes (in a face; for Ben, there has to be a face)

Multiple limbs or digits

Vestigial horns

Lekku

He's attracted to wealth and power, just not in the blatant way of his father. Another feature he'd find particularly attractive would be his subject of attraction not knowing his parents.

@etoilebleu

[b4didea]

i   knew   you   in   another   life   ,    /   you   had   that   same   look   in   your   eyes   .   .   .   /   i   love   you   ,   don't   act   so   surprised. [ @etoilebleu ]

[nightmarefuele]

@etoilebleu

Mists cling to mesosphere, thin as morning draperies. Clouds are like flotsam, floating in wind, while jellies of various genera suckle the edges of an Upsilon-class command shuttle’s posterior windows. When Inuja surfaces beneath its occupants’ roving eyes, each of indeterminate origin, her garden of marble Eden is no more a disc than a first shadow is the night. She blooms with frost-hued suns, and offers up for her unheralded visitors her sequins of architectural fantasy. There are gods who have not spoken so elegantly.

Ren gives himself over to looking as if rousing himself from a dream: he once saw such a place through youth’s eyes.

Now, that place has died with the youth and his memory. Hanging mists and flotsam clouds disperse as darkness descends; white temples, still steepled in the old ways of easy, nurturing faith, have gone to gray, and stand instead upon the shoulders of time-eaten mountains. The only dawn here is the First Order’s awakening age. The deep, predatory rumble of Inuja’s anchoring visitor.

“Something to look at,” the one they call Machaera—“weapon,” simple and crude, cruel in that way only ignorants can be—murmurs from his window, the shuttle’s belly. He is not the murmuring kind, his is a violent presence, his brawn instates this clearly. But he is surfacing on the edges of an evolution, exquisite detail of melee and musculature that he is; so he murmurs all the same.

Across Machaera, the Axis’ helm glistens. Her’s is an uninterrupted glaze of indeterminate black material, wrapping down around her skull. Perhaps it seeps down between her ultrachrome collar and flesh—whatever flesh hers is—and braids with her skeleton.

“You should’ve called on Surri,” she says. Ren tastes the brine of her disgust wherever it rains: Down on this nest of vipers—politicians—she perceives. And, perhaps, on him.

He affords her no true answer. They both know the Ren has called Surri-diae to meet other ends. Instead, Ren lifts his helm to the shuttle’s frontal cortex as he comes to. As gravity skips along the vessel’s chromium-plated plumonodes like Salix fronds. As the command shuttle raises its Upsilon wings, and finds its rhythm in the pressurized air fields—indiscernible, lulling teeth of the Inujan Royal aerodrome—below.

The helm’s apparatuses click. Some darker, deeper rhythm, an otherly pressure sliding into place. His timbre is of kinds bred for heralding nightfall. Displace dawn with decay. Within it now holds at once flat derision, and discomfiting tenderness.

“Diae is not the sole deceiver among us,” Ren responds. “Take her place.”

***

To the outer witness, the command shuttle’s landing may well look like a claiming of grounds. The way black laminasteel kisses marble floors is no kiss between lovers: it’s violent, domineering. It dispenses all pretense of greeting as effusively as it throws up dirt and grass off the landing aisle’s cliff-borne sides. When the dust settles, the thing tosses a final breath to uneasy winds before retracting. All what remains is pregnant silence.

This is no precursor. There is no message in the Upsilon’s sheathed winds. This is nothing out of an Order officer’s repertoire. This smells more like death, extending its digits. Feel out the textures writ before it like brail.

Mechanical voice coughs from ship’s hatch. A slender mount descends, black and unspooling, a tongue stamped in soot and lead. Steam, layering the mist.

The Ren sift free, like inverted fireflies.

They emerge as one, two do not linger behind the first. A singular sort of matrimony outlines their gradations of movement. But he who stands central, and tallest between them—whose powerful gait is limned with prowling deliberation—could not be more palpably the head of whatever body he thus commands, than in his present silence.

Unmoving, Ren probes each of them; this reception come to greet his augural company on their precious, ancient prow. The two others wait at his sides, unwavering as their purpose. They’ll be doing the same.

When he does draw forth, he speaks more to the dusk mist than to its people: “Who among you serves as Inuja’s noble crown?”

[nursc]

❛⠀⠀i don't see how that is important. ⠀ ❜ ⠀ standing by the fireplace, as far away from him as the room allows, christine glances at the former prince from the corner of her eye, distrust clouding her gaze. in the grand scheme of things, she is right. dancing lessons are at the very bottom of her list; if her time was her own, perhaps it would be closer to the top, she's always loved dancing, but actions have consequences, hers more than most.

for a brief second, she let herself believe he was going to be useful for a change. the sunlight fooled her. he stood in front of the open window, bathed in golden sunlight, the features that are usually the source of her torment softened by the soft light, and... she made a mistake. she trusted him.

❛⠀⠀if it was truly important, you wouldn't be offering yourself as my tutor. ⠀ ❜ ⠀ she stops, blue-eyed gaze narrowing as she takes a slight step forward. ❛⠀⠀i thought i was a... bull-headed troll? is that what you said? a bull-headed troll who doesn't listen to reason. i think that was it. ⠀ ❜ ⠀ a humorless laugh escapes her lips, the urge to smack him taking her another step forward. ⠀ ❛⠀⠀trolls don't dance, do they? ⠀ ❜

@etoilebleu

[twcntythree]

( @etoilebleu )

IT'S  not  everyday  that  she  takes  him  so  horrifically  off-course.  granted,  it's  certainly  not  a  rarity,  either,  but  it's  been  scarce  occurrence  these  past  few  years.  (  he  likes  to  think  she  just  likes  this  face  better  -  it  really  is  a   g  o  o  d   face  !  ) one  look  at  the  monitor  -  a  small  red  dot  indicating  '  YOU  ARE  HERE  !  '  -  the  doctor  has  to  sullenly  admit  that  the  layover  was  more  than  justified.  a  distress  signal  -  gee,  EXCITING  !  hasn't  had  one  of  those  in   a  g  e  s.

a  loving  tap  to  the  console  (  admitting  she  was  right  without  having  to  explicitly  say  it  )  he  wastes  no  time,  grabbing  his  psychic  paper  as  he  rushes  out  the  door.   - OUT  the  door  -  INTO  an  ...  eerily  empty  ship  ?   double  checks  the  paper  -  nope,  that  checks  out.  "  S.S.  STONEHENGE  ...  "  -  hey,  i've  been  there  once  !    -  "  anyone  in  ?  "

[featherstcnes]

hunting for her mark was easy. natasha could fall into a new alias, follow someone across cities, across state lines, if that was what it took. she'd done it all before -- took weeks at a time where she was everyone but herself, attempting to find intel on someone. going undercover was something she'd done her entire life. morphing into someone new, finding a new angle to go at a situation with, it was something she'd been trained to do her entire life. and while, working for shield, it wasn't exactly with as malicious of intent, it was still the same general concept.

keep to the shadows. stay hidden. glean what information you can while you have the advantage. and she had.

she'd gotten a file from shield with enough information to get her started. theodore price. smart. seemingly lived a normal life. except if he was on shield's radar, then he was far from normal. she'd been tracking him for a while - figuring out his routine, learning about the people he interacted with. she needed to know enough to find her angle in how to talk to him -- it wasn't like she could just walk up to him the moment she first saw him and demand his cooperation. it couldn't be that easy.

but this was her moment. now. " i think we need to work on your perception of people around you. i've been following you for ten minutes and you haven't even batted an eye. " okay, well, the ten minutes was a lie - it definitely had been way longer than that. days, even. but he didn't need to know that detail yet. " you must be pretty important for me to be on your tail. " she wasn't in any sort of disguise, not today. and for anyone that knew anything about the avengers, it was pretty obvious who she was. / @etoilebleu (theo)

[alx-mnnr]

#

[hopegained]

@etoilebleu | put a name in my inbox and my muse will answer

How interested they are in having sex with them: "This is hardly an appropriate question to ask." How much they would pay (or have to be paid) to have sex with them:  "You're joking, right? None." If they would rather bottom or top them: "I don't know. Either." How good they think they would be: "I don't think questioning Her Highness' skills is a smart thing to do." If they’d prefer kitchen counter, wall, or shower sex with them: "Bed's not an option? Well, I guess the wall. Shower's too slippery and kitchen counter's nasty." If they’d fuck, have sex, or make love:  "I'd rather we both come out of it satisfied." If they were going to make it a threesome, the third person they’d pick: "Don't know enough people for that." If they think there’s ever a possibility that it would happen: "Zero."

[conduitandconjurer]

❛  why don’t you stay here ?  ❜ ( from June to klaus ✨ )

Klaus exhales heavily, and rolls around to face June.

"Cause I don't belong in this decade, or even this century, and I only stayed when I thought my whole family was already dead."

He shrugs, and those lethally mournful eyes lock onto her gaze.

After a moment, fearful of conflict, they stray. His face is the embodiment of a weary sigh.

"I'm sorry, babe."

[numberforaname]

@etoilebleu asked: "Happy Birthday" from Luther

Diego gave Luther a look as though he’d just said the dumbest thing imaginable. "Happy Birthday?" he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he narrowed his eyes. Luther stood there, clearly waiting for his brother to return the gesture. Diego scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Wow, real heartfelt, big guy. Did you think that up all by yourself?"

As he turned away, Diego didn’t bother slowing his pace, already halfway out of the room. "Seriously, Luther, if you're trying to make this a Hallmark moment, you're about ten years too late," he called over his shoulder with a smirk, his voice echoing. Without breaking stride, he added, "You keep practicing though—maybe by next year, you’ll get a cake or something." His tone was light, but sharp, leaving Luther standing there, awkwardly holding onto the failed birthday attempt.

[stcrmhund]

Sturmhond lounges languidly in his chair as the princess enters his cabin, sparring a quick smile towards Tolya before his lazy eyes settle on the biggest prize he's ever caught.⠀⠀⠀Half the pirates in the region are hunting for her, and probably even a few more legitimate captains, the prize offered by Ravka and her homeland enough to buy... well, probably a small country, at the very least;⠀⠀⠀the betrothed of Ravka's future king is worth nothing less.⠀

She is a pretty little thing. Even wearing his old clothes that are three sizes too big on her, she cuts an impressive figure. If his brother musters up enough decency to stop being a fool, he might stumble his way into happiness with her by his side.

❛⠀⠀⠀Sit down, please. ⠀ ❜ he asks, gesturing to one of the chairs in front the table, all disengaged affability. ❛⠀⠀⠀You are going to catch a chill standing by the window like that. ⠀ ❜

starter for @etoilebleu

[kylo-wrecked]

@etoilebleu sent :// "How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?"

{ from this meme}

"Never. Goodbye. Goodbye, Eris."

[b4didea]

the   doctor   hesitates   ,   this   seemingly   never-ending   hell   ,   was   finally   coming   to   an   end.   despite   itself   ,   he   didn't   want   it   to   end.   he   didn't   want   to   lose   her. [ @etoilebleu ]

[commissioncd]

💥 ( from june )

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒: ＰＲＯＭＰＴＳ.

💥or 'smack’ // sender smacks receiver in the face. 

His head WHIPS to the side as his flesh blooms with a fresh, stinging pain, skin hot to the touch and pulsing as he rights himself, her mark bright as he scowls. 

❝ I'd ask WHO YOU ARE but it'd be REDUNDANT. ❞

He'd drawn his gun, holding it steady. Luckily, he's quick on the draw but he simply points it at her as a means to DEESCALATE her physical advances. He wanted answers before PUNCHING HER TEETH IN.