#the aurora cycle spoilers

[safirefire]

Admiral Adams and Battle Leader de Stoy: We have left you gifts that will be vital to your survival

Finian de Seel:

[safirefire]

Finian de Seel and Nari respectively

if i was trapped in the time loop i would do the correct sequence of actions to break out of the time loop on my first try, thus resulting in me unaware of there being a time loop in the first place

[cables-walter]

It didn't feel important to remember that. It felt important to show it to someone. Ronan tried to understand.

[stringcage]

Top ten moments in media that made me retch violently 😃👍

[whatireading]

Gee, I wonder where they got the idea for THAT scene?

There are also a LOT of ideas and terminology that appear to have been lifted straight from Star Trek (like, more than is automatically expected of all sci-fi written since 1966), but I am so hooked.

[thepiedsniper]

Don't think about the colour of Cat's soul being a blend of Scarlett and Tyler's colours

[theinnermeyoullneverknow]

I mean yeah that's funny but nothing beats "He will be impossible to live with if you do not."

Funniest part of Auroras End was Auri and her 5 foot something ass ready to throw hands with a full on genocidal warlord

[serenescribe]

the prince's physician Twisted Wonderland | 3.7k Summary: Malleus is the prince’s physician. He reflects on everything his role entails. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52875436 Collaboration with @ohsleepie | Potential spoilers for elements of Chapter 7

Hello everyone! This fic is directly inspired by @ohsleepie's wonderful "The Prince and his Physician" AU, and wound up being an impromptu collaboration featuring absolutely stunning and incredible art drawn by Sleepie himself! Please check him out and follow him!

I'm so happy to share this, and I hope that you all enjoy it!

The days between the prince’s passing and his inevitable reincarnation always feel the longest to Malleus.

Time, as it is, is a slow-paced thing; such is life for him as the last of his kind, a single year feeling far more miniscule for him than it does for a human. Malleus loses track of the days easily, slips up on his months and years. He is only aware of the passage of time through distant observations of festivities — celebrations to herald in a new year, for one, or the prince’s birthday, for another.

But rather than track the time through each changing year, Malleus tracks them in cycles of Silver’s life and death.

With each new reincarnation, each new cycle brought anew, something imperceptible shifts in the air. A rebirth means many things — to the kingdom’s populace, it is yet another year of a curse yet unbroken; to Malleus, it is a tangible, physical mark of his failures. But failures aside, there is something so jarring, so off-putting, about seeing the nursemaids and servants whisk a cradle through the halls of the castle, a cradle Malleus knows the contents of.

It is Silver, always Silver, a slumbering baby identical to the dozens that came before him — wispy locks of silver hair that plaster against his forehead, pudgy hands and chubby cheeks, and when he opens his eyes, those same, breathtaking hues of the brightest auroras.

Malleus always stops and stares whenever these moments occur. For an instant, his breath is stolen right from his throat by some unseen thief; his mind dredges up memories of when he, himself, was young, stirring to life old cycles when he was but a child himself, unable to comprehend Silver’s passing and subsequent return. It had taken him quite some time to grasp all of it — but then again, could one truly blame Malleus when his guardian figure, the kindly young prince his age who took him in and treated him well, had died in bed, only to reappear as a wee babe?

But when Silver returns, Malleus feels as though he can breathe again, an invisible knot in his throat loosened.

Because when Silver is gone, Malleus feels… useless, for lack of a better word. His own memories of his childhood are haphazard and spotty, mainly made up of foggy recollections of surviving in the harsh brambles of fae forests. For many, many years, he has found a purpose, was given one through being brought to this human kingdom: break our prince’s curse, and save him from Death’s unyielding grip.

There are few here who deign to interact with him beyond courteous pleasantries. They turn their noses up at him, eyes narrowing, lips twisting; it is fae, they whisper to each other, voices dripping with venom. If not for its magic, its prowess, surely we would have left it to die.

Silver is kind to him, has always been ever since he was young. So is it truly so shocking that Malleus feels so lost with him gone, and feels so relieved whenever he returns?

(And yet, intermingled with the relief, buried underneath such feelings of solace, there lurks another monster. A sense of guilt which festers, slowly growing over time.

An old memory rises whenever Malleus reflects on it for too long, of Silver’s voice:

“I wish for you to break my curse, Malleus. But I do not want to be immortal. My people have suffered for far too long, unable to grow and prosper due to my unending fate.”

He remembers a soft, sad smile.

“To relieve them of that burden, to allow them to grow with my final passing… that is what I wish for, above all else.”)

“How are you feeling today, your majesty?”

It is always odd, with each new cycle. To reacquaint himself with this new Silver — so much like the one before, in his appearance and demeanour, yet lacking the full memories of his past. Malleus knows Silver recalls just enough, especially when aided with the meticulous journals his previous incarnations have kept, but it is jarring, all the same, to reintroduce himself to someone he has known for many, many decades.

Silver blinks at him from the bed, the four-poster frame draped with too many silks and gauzes, too big for a boy of his size. His eyes are tinged with crusts of sleep, bags forming under them despite the medicines and foods they all have him eat, and yet there is such a strange tranquillity resting in his expression whenever Malleus sees him. “I’m quite alright, Malleus,” he responds, voice scarcely a whisper, soft and sweet. “And you don’t need to call me such formalities. We’ve been over this many times.”

Malleus exhales, the breath slipping through his nose.

No matter how many times Silver tells him as such — and it has been plentiful, through Silvers young and old, of different years, different decades, different centuries — Malleus still abides by such titles, at least when he first speaks to him. It gets easier as the years pass, as he acquaints himself a bit closer, as Silver inches closer to another inevitable death, but all the same—

“You are to be his physician,” a voice instructs him, the memory looming to life once more, “and you do not stand on equal ground with him. As such, you are to abide by our formalities: he is to be referred to as ‘your majesty,’ and nothing else.”

“Prince Silver,” Malleus says instead, the title a little clunky on his tongue. Silver raises an eyebrow at him, but does not push. He merely sits in place as Malleus walks over, his heels clicking against the floor, tail lashing behind the fabrics of his half-skirt. “Allow me to check you over today, if you will.”

“At this point, you need not even ask.”

The days go by the same way they always do: Malleus inspects Silver over carefully, running careful hands over every inch of his body before he adjusts his magic, and delves deeper into the beyond. His instincts are carefully attuned for any little change, anything he has never seen or felt before — any anomaly at all could give a new direction for him to research in, and a new possibility of a means to break the curse.

(He refuses to let himself think too hard about what breaking the curse truly entails. Malleus has ruminated over it over the course of many, many cycles, laying wide awake in bed, staring up at elegantly painted murals on the ceiling in the dark of night. It is always the same thing — should he abide by the kingdom’s wishes, or by his prince’s?

In the end, regardless of which route he chooses, Malleus shall break the curse. But it is the eternal dilemma presented to him that tangles his soul day after day — what would truly be better, to let Silver live past the ages of youth and mature into an all-powerful, immortal king? Or to let him die in peace, freeing his people from the burdens of a monarchy, their hopes and dreams all inextricably tied to their young and dying prince?

And, to another extent, the other part of the question Malleus thinks about, what does he want himself?

There is a part of him that feels such vibrant joy and pride at the thought of Silver thriving — to live as long as Malleus shall, if not even longer; to rule with his steadfastness and kindness, resolute as he heralds a new, immortal age of glory. Malleus knows little about the history of his own kind, but what tiny bits he can dredge up have taught him of a group of creatures with such power and perfection, such beauty and bravery. They thrived in the night, ruled from the shadows, creatures of such majestic, nigh-immortal magic with an arrogance that led to their own downfall.

As a fae himself, Malleus wonders if it is only natural for him to desire such things for Silver. To watch him grow into the ages he has never been able to reach before, to witness him at his fullest might and glory.

And yet, the mere thought of the stabbing betrayal in those auroral eyes, the sadness that may overcome those soft features, is enough to give him pause each and every time.)

He was young when they found him skulking about the brambles.

For as long as Malleus can remember, he has always been alone. Though he’s certain he remembers some sensations of warmth from before he came into being, of being cradled close in a loving embrace, all he remembers, through to his earliest memories, is of being alone.

And for such a lonely fae child, wandering about an overgrown, abandoned valley, what else was there for him to do but survive? To pounce about and gulp down whatever meals he could find, to curl up in the nooks of trees and little rock caverns to try and keep warm… and to hide in the brambles, slitted eyes peering at civilisation from afar.

He’d watched the daily lives of the human kingdom after finding out about their existence, when he was old enough to try and mimic a form similar to their own. Still, Malleus had been too scared to venture too close, some innate part of him screaming at him to stay away, and so he had simply observed from a distance… until one day, they found him.

He remembers little of that day now. It’s all a blur when he tries to recollect it — sharp grips tightening around his limbs as he kicked and thrashed, searing magic that ripped through his veins, burning those who tried to hurt him, being thrown and tossed about, immobilised by something that seared at his skin… All while screaming and yelling flooded the air, his heartbeat thumping chaotically in his ears, head spinning as his surroundings whirled about him—

And then it stopped.

And then there was Silver.

He was young then. That, Malleus recalls. He remembers everything after the pain and the panic with ease, of the way the young boy — just as young as he, with silver hair and such pretty, colourful eyes, and oh-so gentle hands — had removed the searing things that hurt him, and rubbed something that stung before it began to feel better.

“My name is Silver,” the boy told him, in a soft, kind voice that made Malleus feel… safe. “I’m sorry about the pain they caused you. I hope you’re feeling better now.”

Malleus understood him, of course, in some strange, innate way. But his tongue could not shape the same sounds that he heard, no matter how hard he tried. When he spoke, all he could manage was something that chimed and clicked, something Silver didn’t understand.

And yet, in spite of all that, Silver had such patience with him anyway. He allowed Malleus to stay by his side, to stay in his room, eating the same foods that he did — and what a treat they were, for a child who starved as long as he had! — and sleeping in his bed.

Time passed; his wounds healed. His tongue began to curl in all the right ways, taught painstakingly by Silver how to speak in his tongue in-between the periods of time where he had to disappear. Malleus relished in each and every day, the loneliness that haunted him for so long no longer looming over him like a shadow. Now, he had Silver—

Until he didn’t.

Silver hadn’t woken up one day, no matter how hard Malleus tried. Nudging him, shaking him, calling his name until his voice rose in a panic, and the door slammed open, footsteps thumping into the room. He’d been dragged away, kicking and screaming again, the same terror from years ago swelling up once more in his heart; the fire that sparked through his veins, the sheer agony and pain, the lurking realisation that he was alone again.

He remembers very little of those in-between days, the foggy haze of nothingness only pierced by a baby’s cry and the realisation that Silver had somehow returned. But it hadn’t been until years later, years of being stuck in a tiny little bedroom by himself, that Malleus could finally see him again.

Silver was younger now. Younger than Malleus himself. And finally, he explained it to him.

“I have a curse on me,” Silver told him, as simply as possible, as Malleus curled around him in his bed. “And other humans believe you can break it.”

Malleus blinked up at him, raising his head from the soft, downy cushions. “I… can?”

“You can,” Silver affirmed with a gentle smile, his voice high. He reached out, wrapping his arm around Malleus and bringing him close. “Because you’re a fae. You’re so strong. If anyone can help me, it’s you.”

The truth, of course, was far more complex than that simplistic explanation. The truth was that Silver’s curse itself was fae-inflicted and, considering the immense strength of the fair folk, only another fae’s skills would be able to eliminate the curse. But Malleus had been young, and Silver, despite his youth and the fact that he still barely recalled his own memories, was kind, trying to explain everything to Malleus as simply as possible: You are strong, and we believe in you. I believe in you.

And Malleus had accepted it, taking on his new role as the prince’s physician with a regal sort of pride.

Magic slinks through his veins as naturally as blood, the two intermingling and intertwining. It comes to him so easily, far more than even the most expert mages of the kingdom, who have spent decades of their mortal lives honing their skill to a perfect shine.

But for as naturally gifted as Malleus is, he lacks the proper training one should have. That is, not the training of human mages, for he has gone through many cycles worth of such a thing, but the training of a fae.

Fae magic is so distinctly different from that of humans, rooted in their very heart and soul, and in the power of the natural world around them. And though Malleus can adapt to his circumstances, taking what the reluctant tutors teach him and twisting it to suit his own strengths, there is only so much he can learn and do until he hits a wall, and gets stuck in one place.

If only there were other fae still alive, still out there. If only, Malleus thinks longingly, a swell of frustration burgeoning within him as he hits yet another blockade in another theory he’s been trying to test, the ink of his feathered quill dragging to a blotchy halt across the parchment as he struggles to pen what he’s been theorising into written words.

He hears the whispers of the court, day after day. Why isn’t there any progress? the humans ask, as though Malleus can flick his wrist and cure anything instantly. How many years has it been here? How much longer must we suffer? How much more must our prince wait?

And the thing is, Malleus desires nothing more than to be able to snap his fingers and dispel that wretched curse, all at once. But beyond other factors, such as Silver’s private request to him all that time ago to grant him a peaceful death and free his kingdom from the shackles of his immortality, there is the very fact that this is a fae curse, a complex, interweaving system of magic designed to loop Silver’s death, all while bringing him back every time. There is intent behind this convoluted spell, and save nothing short of somehow speaking to the caster himself, there is little Malleus can do but break it all down in reverse.

He rakes a hand through his hair, a growl spilling from his throat. The quill clatters to the table as he drags his hands down his face, biting back a haggard sigh.

The sound of knocking against wood.

“You may enter,” he calls, twisting in his chair to stare at the door.

The hinges squeak as it cracks open, revealing a guardsman who leers at him. “Your presence is requested,” they state, not bothering to hide their disdain, yet having enough basic courtesy not to let it spill into their words. “The council wishes to learn of your progress on breaking his majesty’s curse.”

Dark lips twist into an ugly sneer. The council, Malleus seethes. A group of uppity, stuck-up human nobles, who constantly die and get replaced with equally awful replacements, who keep breathing down his back about any meagre bits of progress he’s been able to make despite Silver’s attempts to get them to stop.

The downsides of Silver constantly reincarnating, needing to relearn everything all over again as he dives back through journals and jostles his own memories, is that he can’t always chase them away, telling them to leave his physician alone, and let him work. This is one of those times, it seems; Silver is too busy learning how to be a human being again, leaving Malleus stranded against a group of men who seem hellbent on making his very existence hell throughout what little bits of life they live.

But it is not as though he can deny a summons. For all his title as the prince’s physician, Malleus knows — has known for such a very long time — that his rank is meaningless without the very prince he serves.

“Tell them that I shall arrive in five minutes.” Picking up his quill, Malleus dips it back into a pot of ink, a furious frustration igniting the spark within him as he turns back to his incomplete report.

It is better than nothing, and that is worth something.

Malleus holds very little loyalty to this kingdom. What else is there for him, when he is destined to outlive everyone within it, and when they are all so bent on treating him as though he personally killed their families?

He is aware of the history between them and his own ancestors, the plentiful fae who used to share these lands until they waged war against the humans, slaughtering them in a painful, bloody battle. The humans had emerged victorious, all the fae driven out or slain, but it had come at the heavy cost of all their royals killed — except for one.

And for years, they had watched their prince grow with pride, until he had died before his coronation. And then it had happened again, and again, and again — they would find him as a baby nestled within a clearing in the nearby woods, identical in each and every iteration, and they would watch as he always died before arriving at his years of maturity, always while he was far too young.

A fae curse, they realised, far too late. How foolish they had been, to dismiss the magic struck against their prince! It is a fate worse than death, they lamented, their spirits growing weary with each new cycle. What shall we do?

Malleus is their answer to their conundrum, a solution to a problem his ancestors made. And yet, for all the supposed salvation he represents and is supposed to bring, he knows what they think of him. And though he understands it, understands the reservations and hatred for everything he represents, he also cannot help but resent them for it.

Why is he treated like he is lesser, when he is trying to help them?

His loyalty lies with their prince, with Silver, for the kindness Malleus has been shown over and over, throughout countless identical reincarnations, countless ends and beginnings. It is the reason why he stays, why he endures it all, why he works painstakingly at dissecting a curse only he stands a chance of understanding, in hopes of shattering this cruel fate once and for all.

He carries the hopes and dreams of the kingdom on his shoulders — a cruel irony, Malleus knows, considering what most of the populace think of him. He is their only hope, in the end.

But the thing is — and this, Malleus has come to realise over time:

It is easy for the humans to root for their prince. It is easy for them to hope, to pray, to plead with whatever higher forces exist out there for the fae physician to break his curse, bringing them all into a golden age of their royal’s immortality. It is easy because they are human; for many of them, they will not live long enough to witness more than perhaps four or five of their prince’s life cycles, forcing them to tell their descendents of their desires to carry on the flames of their hopes.

When one does not live long enough for their awe and admiration, their all-consuming anticipation, to melt away into something far more pessimistic, it is easy to stand strong and proclaim, “I wish for my prince to live forever; I wish for him to lead us into a new age.”

But for Malleus? For the only fae in a kingdom of mortals, destined to outlive each and every one of them by proxy of his heritage alone?

He has lost count of just how many cycles he has witnessed, from the tender years of childhood into the grown fae he is today. He has lost track of how many times he has met Silver for the first time, the servants and guards and nursemaids who care for him and guard him all switching out cycle after cycle, as more of them die and more of them are replaced.

The humans see not what Malleus witnesses over time: the piles of journals that stack up higher and higher; the heavy bags that marr the underside of those striking auroral eyes; the pure exhaustion that sinks into their prince’s every movement and word, the way he gazes upon his kingdom from towering windows.

In the end, this miserable curse can only end one way: Silver must die.

(The question still remains, pressing down on Malleus’ shoulders, an invisible burden weighing him down with each soft smile and greeting he receives.

Shall Silver live forever? Or only once more?)

[serene-sun]

Father imperator…

RHRN SPOILERS!! This is what I think happened after the movie (saw it an hour ago)

“I am very sad to announce the passing of our beloved mother superior, sister imperator, and while we mourn her tragic death due to unfortunate medical conditions, there have been questions on who will reign.” Copia stands at the podium of the chapel filled with siblings of sin.

Several gasps rotate throughout the ceremony and sorrowful sniffs and sobs echo as copia is reminded again of what happened the faithful night of the LA ritual.

“And while the clergy needs a new leader….eh.” He paused, glances to his side where the ghost of nihil and sister were smiling and waiting for him to get on with it, “there will be a new papa as well.” He turns back to the crowd.

The rummage of words and shuffling fills the room to where nobody can hear, the ghouls eyes widen as they stare at pa- copia.

“Papa, what do you mean??” A sibling stands in the crowd.

Copia grips the side of the podium, “well…unfortunately we all know that the cycle must continue…” he watches his brothers from the back of his head like a bird nervously, he chuckles, “I am pleased to announce that it was my mothers dying wish to have me take over head of church.” He stands strong, thinking he said it well.

Imperator ghostly puts her hand on her forehead and shakes it as she sighs, the whole room getting louder again.

“Mom?? Sister imperator was your mother?!” The crowd exclaims in both shock and somewhat happiness.

Copia frightenly puts his hands up like chairs are about to be thrown even tho they aren’t, “eh…I’m sorry, but it was best for the clergy if it was secret- but it is true that I am pure emeritus like it was rumored.”

“Hah! I told you he was no bastard!” One sibling says to another.

Sodo steps from his seat from a pew and leaves the room, Aurora softly cried into cumulus’s arm as rain and Swiss discussed with upset and worried faces.

After the very chaotic clergy meeting, the ghouls meet copia in the hall, “papa, what is happening?”

“It is as said, I am the sole heir to the clergy. The papa was never the king, only the joker after all.” He tried to joke, tho it was true that all papas were second to the superiors. The papa had only been the monarch of a democratic state.

“But….what does this mean for us..?” Rain asks sadly, he furrowed his brows.

Copia lightened, he cupped rains cheek with his hand, “I’m afraid I’m not sure yet…”

Rain then placed a hand on copias wrist, “we don’t want to be sent back to the pit….please….” He chokes on his voice.

It strikes copias heart, “I promise you happiness, tho I’m unsure where you will be.” He says with a reassuring smile.

“Copia. Who is the new papa?” Swiss asked confused, he quickly added, “you have no children?”

Copia chuckled, “yes but I do have one ehhhh one more sib-“ he’s cut off by the breach of the door way, the double doors opening wide as a foot steps into the lit hallway.

Incame a blonde man, white eye and painted face, “hello,” he bows…

[safirefire]

The Aurora Cycle Spoilers

Tyler and Saedii:

[bylersboy]

intro post (finally)

ive debated making an intro post because first off ive been on tumblr for two years and I never got around to it and secondly I am really really horrible at talking about myself because what is to much info and what it to little info and the cycle continues but im giving it a shot because I feel like my mutuals have no idea who I am lmao

HAI my name is Charlie im 15 (18+ I dont mind if you follow me but please dont dm me thank you :]) I use jasper as an online name kind of (at this point its just reserved for my best friend ace but I dont mind if other people call me jasper since I still love the name)

my pronouns are he/him but im also perfectly comfortable with common neopronouns (it/its xey/xem) if you wanna get funky with it.

im a self diagnosed autistic and ARFID (if you dont know what that is its an eating disorder where certain factors make you avoidant and restrictive of the food you eat and it has nothing to do with physical appearance. for me its linked to my autistic sensory issues(ALSO OCD NOW?!!? WHAT THE FUCK?!!?)) I have depression and anxiety and the only reason I mention this is because I relate my mental health to my fav characters in tv shows and books and stuff so if you see me posting about them like everything is connected lol

(my a03 is ghostwithfeet if you want to see me be silly and project my weird life onto fictional characters (I am the most inconsistent updater in the world please expect nothing from me if you even ask about a project it will scare me and like I turtle I will crawl into my shell never to see the light of day again))

my interests really vary about current hyperfixations but heres the master list

current hyperfixs

stranger things specifically Byler but mostly mike wheeler (this has turned into a special interest(I DO NOT support Noah schnapp or another of the other cast members who are in support of the inhumane actions the Israel government are doing. I am pro saving innocent civilians. I know that this can be controversial to be such a big fan of this show and honestly I have a lot of complex feelings on the matter but im autistic as previously mentioned and its my special interest and It won't leave my brain even if im not directly interacting with the media so im gonna yap about it on my blog thank you.))

also just Finn wolf hard for some reason (check out his band the Aubreys its awesome. also check out a recent movie he was in called when you finished Saving the world. it means a lot to me)

donna tarts the goldfinch book

old special interests/hyperfixs

the percy Jackson universe specifically nico di Angelo

the IT universe specifically reddie and Beverly marsh but more leaning towards richie tozier (see what I mean with the Finn wolf hard thing)

dead boy detectives !!

doctor who (I haven't even finished David tenants doctor yet so please no spoilers)

Alice oseman content (never read loveless or iwbft but ive read all of her other stuff)

paper girls graphic novel

other interests

the good place tv show

Kathleen Glasgows book girl in pieces

the walking dead comics including the clementine spin off graphic novels

um yeah thats all I can think of for now

my fav musicians/bands

florence and the machine

indigo de Souza

Kevin Atwater

searows

the Aubreys

sadurn

the cranberries

soccer mommy

runo plum

nep

lala lala

the smiths

hospital bracelet

Chappell roan

AURORA

Madilyn Mei!

Elliot smith

(my music taste is all over the place and is also very seasonal and I have a bunch of underground artists I dont listen to but I am here to give good recs I promise my playlists are fire)

we've gotten to the part of the intro post where im wondering if this is way to much information so sorry if I overshared idk but hope we can be silly mutuals or friends if you want (never be scared to shoot the friendship shot I would love to yap with y'all)

also since this is taking over my other pinned post I just want to put this as an honorary spot and let everyone know that my old pinned post was a quote from radio silence and that Aled last is me and I am him and the February Friday plot line is actually me and it makes me sick how much I resonate with that book

[diplomaticmachine]

WAKE UP AURORA CYCLE FANDOM!!!!! I am here to drop some random headcanons!!

!SPOILER FOR ALL THREE BOOKS!

1- Do you all remember when Scar (or was it Cat?) said that Tyler read about old generals? Well, I believe Scar studied about strong women in history, like Cleopatra, but would never admit it because she doesn’t want to be seen as a nerd lol.

2- Tyler kept Shamrock after Cat died and it just sat in his office until his a four year old Lae found it and fell in love with the toy. At first Tyler didn’t know how to feel, part of him was happy that his daughter was happy and the other was worried for the only part of Cat he had left. Shamrock still had her smell, it was just like she left it before she died, Lae could end up ruining the old toy without even wanting, and that was the last thing Tyler wanted; and for his luck, he couldn’t be more wrong. Lae was so careful with the toy she covered him to fall asleep with her, kissed him goodnight and took care of the dragon as if it was the most precious thing in the world. That made Tyler feel like Cat was taking care of Lae, she was still a part of his life.

3- Both Fin and Auri are fish people, not cat, not dog, but fish. Auri had a goldfish called Goldie back at home (Callie took care of her after Aurora left) and Fin had one weird fish he gave to one of his brothers after he went to live with his grandparents for the zero gravity; both of them missed their fishes so much their partners got them new ones, which they adore just as much. Aurora's fish was named by Kal, and received the most creative name ever: Fish; while Fin's is called "Sushi the second", after his late pet.

[starfish-sonnyangel]

(!major aurora cycle spoilers!!!)

my hot take of 2023 is that i know canonically auri looses all her powers at the end of ae but in my mind she just keeps like a beta version of them where she’s not quite as powerful and literally god-like as before, but her power doesn’t hurt her when she uses it and she’s still able to sense people minds/communicate mentally. so like eshvaren lite, and ofc she uses it to assist the syldrathi as they rebuild their community and culture from the ground up. bc im soooo fed up with authors taking away strong female leads powers *cough cough sjm COUGH COUGH* at the end of a series i could write a book about how overplayed and lazy it is to just strip away a female characters powers after the main conflict of the plot is done as if we can’t trust/imagine her going on to use those powers on her own accord instead of being forced into using them by some figure/event. it makes that character feel so one sided like their value as a person outside of that power is invaluable, instead of using that power to further develop who they are as a person. also to open up all the potential in her and kal being able to communicate telepathically just to throw it all away three chapters later was an actual crime. like y’all better lmk next time you see mr kristoff (bc I just know he was behind that plot point) because i have a warrant out for his arrest and a passion for my cause. ANYWAYS idk if any of this made sense (bc I wrote this at 3 am after waking up in a cold sweat) but i rlly appreciate you coming to my tedtalk <3333 #justiceforterrifyinglypowerfulauri2023

[magentainbio]

Surprise! I have fallen deeply in love with the Aurora Cycle series as of late. To everyone else in this tiny fandom, hi! To people who don't want spoilers, avert your gaze.

[kinofthetrees]

Silkworms, Leavanny, and Pokemon Desolation

Putting this under a read-more since it contains heavy spoilers

I know Aurora’s ace is technically Mightyena, but I find it really interesting that the pokemon she’s seen most with, and the pokemon she leads with, is Leavanny. 

Sewaddle is most likely based on silkworms - it generates its own silk to sew clothes out of leaves with. Once it’s evolved into Leavanny, it then goes on to make clothes for other pokemon, and is very protective of younger/littler pokemon.

This makes sense when looking at Aurora’s relationship with Shiv - she presents herself as a dark and scary person, but deep down she sincerely cares for her younger brother and believes she needs to look after him. Her happy ending is to just spend time with him and travel together.

But I think that the silkworm symbolism can apply to the main character of the game as well.

Silkworms are boiled to death in order to harvest their silk. Their purpose in life is to be used, and in the process of fulfilling that purpose, they’re destroyed. And in general, insects are seen as small, weak, and insignificant.

The protagonist is constantly buffeted by forces greater than themself, locked in a cycle they don’t fully understand. They’re manipulated and tormented all for the purpose of becoming a perfect tool for Darkrai. But it’s possible for them to resist, and in so doing retain their own humanity in spite of everything. Like a silkmoth, they might not be able to stop the cycle of death entirely, but they at least managed to escape their original purpose and become something greater than they were before.

So Aurora and her Leavanny take on an additional meaning. She started as another tool for Darkrai, another worm. She was bound in the same silk as the protagonist once. But instead of casting it off, she started weaving it around other potential victims instead.

This isn't necessarily to say that she's irredeemable, it's possible she might be saved too, it's just something I've been thinking about lately.

[crystalgemgirl]

Sky Children Of the Light

Alright, Sky Children Of the Light spoilers, but I'm bored and just got out of the Aurora Concert, so imma share my thoughts. According to the Lore we got during the songs, the world of Sky wasn't always a wasteland, the Isle Of Dawn use to be lush and green, now... It's a dessert. We play as descendants, and we are paying for our ancestors actions. They captured the Mantas (as they're called in game) in nets, for the races from the Warrior song. Then the Eye Of Eden did... Something. It started erupting like it always does, but.... This time was the biggest I've ever seen (keep in mind, these are from the memories of Spirits) the battle was... brutal, deaths on both sides, there were images of Mantas with spears in them. It's a vicious cycle, history repeats, over and over and over, nobody learns anything because no one lives long enough to see the pattern.