“… and we will shade Ourselves whole summers by a river glade; And I will tell thee stories of the sky, And breathe thee whispers of its minstrelsy, My happy love will overwing all bounds! O let me melt into thee! let the sounds Of our close voices marry at their birth; Let us entwine hoveringly!”
“My sweet girl, I am living today in yesterday. I was in a complete fascination all day. Write me ever so few lines and tell me you will never forever be less kind to me than yesterday. You dazzled me. There is nothing in the world so bright and delicate. You have absorbed me. I have a sensation at the present moment as if I was dissolving.”
For myself, I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form. I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair. I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days. Three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
So where the Isle separated by base skillset, Auradon separates by birthright. See, on the Isle everyone starts out equal. Having a rottenest of the rotten parent might give you an edge in learning how to do whatever you do, but it still falls to your own natural inclinations to find where you survive in the world’s structures.
Carlos is the son of the cruelest and meanest Conqueror of the old class of villains, but Carlos survives as the target of bullying and as a victim. Every Tremaine in the books is flirtatious and manipulative, but Dizzy isn’t. Jafar was cunning and crafty but Jay… prefers to live off what his body can do.
No, in Auradon your fate is set by your birth rite. Everything is so rigidly locked into place that there’s very little movement out of where you began to where you might want to be. Limits further cemented by a lack of magic to tip the scales and allow for a sudden thrust in mobility.
Class One - Nobles
(Examples: Ben, Chad, Audrey.) If you were born to a noble house, you carry a noble status. The bright lights and movie star life that is being the most beloved and pampered child of your own corner of the land. Ben, raised to rule with kindness and strength, actually is fairly complete as a person. Needing to serve his people as much as they serve him.
Chad and Audrey however… wanted for nothing and are petty, self-important, and all around terrible people. Chad moreso than Aurora’s daughter.
Class Two - Adventurers
(Examples: Lonnie, Jordan.) While not… royal, they carry a personal freedom to do what they wish. They’re a little more grounded, a little less self-important, but they don’t seem to aim for a conventional lifestyle. If the world still had villains and monsters to fight, they’d be exploring ruins and fighting monsters. Instead they turn their skills into fashion and flash. Not wrong, but it doesn’t seem to help the world turn.
They are at least overall better people.
Class Three - Workers
(Examples: Doug, Jane.) Workers seem to gravitate to practical skills and a mundane dull future. Seeking only the basics of job security and love. They don’t aim for the stars like an Adventurer, nor do they demand them like a Noble. There’s an unfortunate Huxlean element to staying within your lanes in this world I dislike. Further adding fuel to that ‘Auradon is a disney colored dystopia’ fire. But these are the ones that make the world work.
I mean, it says a lot that anytime someone who isn’t a Noble heads toward what they want, Audrey or Chad is there to go ‘that isn’t how the world works!’ at the top of their lungs. Angry that they might not get everything under the stars and moon to themselves. (Mal getting Ben, regardless of how Mal did it, Ben wasn’t happy with Audrey in the first place. Chad getting angry at VKs on the tourney team, then Lonnie on the R.O.A.R. team.)
This is why when I write fic, the Auradonian nobles who I liked the films for are a hell of a lot kinder to everyday people than any of this.
Bright Star (2009) - A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
No — yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft swell and fall, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever — or else swoon to death.
Trixie is a stuggling music artist finally discovered by a sleazy Hollywood manager; however, his Russian trophy bride (along with her small-waisted young lover) complicate and confuse Trixie’s rise to the top as a legend, icon, and star.
A/N: Love triangles: so delicious yet so, so messy. Am I right, ladies? The last chapter will contain the climax, innuendo intended and implied. Also, between this installment and the last, I’m gonna have a little mini-chapter with some smutty smut-smut because I am *what*? Vatya Trash. I’m Vatya Trash.