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yandere-daydreams · 3 months

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Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst imagines #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yanderecore #yancore

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punksocks · 4 months

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Astrology Observations No.27:

*just based on my observations, pleas only take what resonates

(Trying to write more posts and answer more asks lately, everything has been so busy omg- hope you all enjoy what I can put out there tho! c:)

-A perspective but I think Libra placements (big 6 but especially Venus and mars) are attracted to harmonious/balanced appearances, like I think having that glow from confidence in your aesthetic and it fitting you and things like that can make you just as attractive to Libra placements as conventional measurements of beauty

-Sun Conjunct Venus makes you really charismatic and you probably attract a lot of people by being yourself, and sometimes these natives can be people pleasers especially if they’re trying to impress others

-Quietly I associate your mars sign and your MC the most with the work you’ll do. Mars because you can’t divorce your passion from your work (says the Capricorn). And MC because it’s what you’re known for and that’s often tied to some sort of work/action. North node is tied in there too but it plays out so long term it can be harder to summarize. (I can do a post about the general fields that placements tend to go towards if folks are interested?)

-Aries and Sagittarius Mercury tied for most likely to accidentally blurt out your secrets

-Chiron Venus aspects (especially square, opposition, and conjunction) may find themselves undoing a lot of pressure around their looks or being especially hard on themselves over their perceived flaws/imperfections

-The sign over your 5th house may denote if you have many or few casual romantic connections (Saturn/Capricorn pointing to fewer one end of the scale and Jupiter/Sagittarius pointing to many at the other end of the scale, depends on Venus and mars too)

-You may find yourself accidentally pouring your heart out to water moons (especially cancer over how emotionally in-tune they are and scorpio over traaaaumaaa oml)

-I feel like Sagittarius can feel less mutable because Jupiter makes some of the forms of expression so big (ex. A Sagittarius Mars can get so mad at you and blow up, Sagittarius Mars/Venus typically date many partners, Sagittarius moons can express their emotions in a big way- I probably feel this way bc I’m Sag Pluto, the extremes lol)

-I’ve noticed that Venus dominants can seek more attention compared to like Leo/sun doms

-Fixed Venus can become codependent on their partner, putting heavy exceptions on their person for them to be their everything if underdeveloped— but if developed they can be very loyal to their person

-Mutable Venus aren’t quite commitment-phobic but they tend to be looking for a really special combination of traits to actually settle down with (when they’re monogamous), otherwise they get distracted very easily (or they treat their romantic options, and sometimes friends, like very temporary things- for better or for worse)

-Cardinal Venus are most likely to really go after what they want romantically, I think out of all the Venus modalities they have the most accurate idea of what they want at heart, from the start. But on the shadow side of this, they may be manipulative or try to conform their partner into what they want. (may play out differently for moon opposition/square Venus)

-I feel like where ever Venus is heavy in your chart may be how people assume you’re gracious but in a somewhat shallow way (ex. Venus conjunct mercury, people may find your voice and expression charming but assume you’re not that smart)

-Venus/Saturn aspects/ Capricorn Venus tend to have a lot of unrequited love interests and crushes that don’t reciprocate their affections when they’re younger but as they get older they tend to get the most affection from suitors that are older than them (be careful out here! Sometimes these old folks don’t know anything and they have bad intentions- girl when I say I had to take my own advice)

-Leos (big 3, especially sun & Asc) often know the right thing to say to charm you, it’s like when they want to they hit that sweetspot dead on. So do Libra’s (big 3) but they tend to approach things less directly, like compliments that really sit with you and come onto you in quieter, sometimes less serious way (if they have both in their big 3 then they’re just -a charmer- and idk I take that at face value 80% of the time lol but I’m a skeptic)

-I find that Pisces and Sagittarius placements (big 6 but especially sun for identity and moon for emotionality) often get VERY into spirituality at some point in their lives

-People with Jupiter in Virgo tend to work very diligently, almost too hard sometimes and they can be prone to burning themselves out from this behavior (something something don’t burn the candle at both ends- hypocritical from a Jupiter in Capricorn person lol but still)

-We talk about how Scorpio placements observe every detail about you, but I like Pisces placements (big 6 but especially sun, moon, Venus, and mars) have told me things about myself and habits I have that I’ve never noticed about myself. They’re super observant they notice a lot. I think they have this in common with their sister sign, Virgo. But I noticed Pisces will use their intuition in their observations instead of just analyzing. (I.e. you do x when you’re angry, is it because you feel defensive? Or I noticed you light up when you talked about him, you must really like him)- can also apply to Neptune Conjunct your big 3 (especially moon), and big 3 in 12th but it’s a bit more second nature to them than Pisces

-The season of your Venus sign is the time you’re most likely to indulge in self care and purchases for yourself (Sag season started and all of a sudden I was like I need makeup now, even though I hardly wear it in the winter lol)

-The season of your mars is the time you’re most like to take major actions (starting a business, going on solo adventures, etc)

-The season of your sun is when you’re most likely going to receive the most public recognition (also when the sun is transiting your MC/10th house)

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espion7971 · 2 months

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SkyWing tribe sheet!

my computer always fucks up colors in export for some reason and its really obvious with these guys :( i promise they're more saturated my computer just sucks

anyway i really liked doing these guys, skywings are fun and i think they have a lot of potential. enjoy!

Physical Appearance + Traits:

-SkyWings, as their name suggests, are dragons made for the wind and sky. They are better fliers than any other tribe, with enormous wings and several birdlike features. Some can fly for more than a day without landing, and even when they aren’t flying they make their homes at the peaks of mountains, with the entire world beneath them.

-They are quite large, taller than any other tribe, with long necks, long tails, and regal figures. They don’t have any obviously deadly weapons, but they have no clear weaknesses either; they are generally successful dragons.

-Their coloration consists of almost entirely warm colors, specifically red and orange. Yellows and golds are sometimes seen too, and more uncommonly, purples and browns. Their colors are bold and striking; they are one of the few Pyrrhian tribes that has no need for camouflage.

-Young dragonets are hatched with a coating of feathers, particularly on their wings, necks and tails. Most dragons simply shed their feathers as they grow; some, though, carry a few into adulthood, usually lining their wings or making a thin ruff around their necks. These feathers are often even brighter than their scales.

-SkyWing horns are a mark of pride, and they continue to grow for as long as they live, meaning some of the oldest SkyWings have horns that resemble enormous and heavy antlers. Sometimes their horns are decorated with wires strung with jewels.

-SkyWing fire is the hottest and most powerful fire any tribe can produce. At its hottest it scorches through bone, and it can be used with accuracy from a long distance. It is their main weapon in combat, and quite a devastating one if their opponents don’t know how to properly fight it. They also use it for a number of other things, though. (More on this in the “society and culture” section.)

-Their wings are stronger than those of most tribes, allowing them to temporarily use them for balance rather than their front legs. This lets them hold and work on things more easily. (This headcanon belongs to @sidyashchiy-na-plakhe!! i saw your post and really liked it, hope you dont mind me adopting it)

-Not dissimilar to SandWings, they have darker streaks near their eyes to help with the glare of the sun when they’re flying, often facing the horizon directly.

Life Cycle:

-SkyWings are hatched in clutches between one and five, although four and five are a bit less common than one through three. SkyWing parents are not involved much with their dragonets. By tradition, they lay eggs in nests high in the mountain peaks, and return occasionally with food once they hatch. The rare unlucky SkyWing newborn may be snatched up by a large bird, but they’re big enough that it isn’t usually an issue. They are also hatched with disproportionately massive wings, big enough to make the fall less likely to be lethal if they fall before they learn to fly.

-Once the dragonets are large enough, though, or once they get hungry enough to search for their own food, they will leave the nest, often simply jumping out and letting the wind carry them, learning to properly fly quite quickly. Once parents notice that the nest is empty, they simply stop bringing food. They will never know who their dragonets are, but SkyWing superstition says all dragonets will eventually make their way to the kingdom, where they will be made a part of the tribe. And, truthfully, they almost always do.

-This practice, which some tribes find strange or even barbaric, is seen by Skywings as an important part of their life and tradition. Each of them took the same journey, and so did the generation before them, so they have faith that it will continue to work out well. It’s in their nature to leave their nest and find the kingdom, and it doesn’t result in enough casualties for them to try to halt the tradition. The only dragons this practice does not apply to is the royal family, for the sake of tracking bloodlines.

-By the time they are entered into the wider kingdom, dragonets usually know how to hunt and avoid danger, so all tribe life offers them is the ability to meet other dragons and find work. There isn’t much of an education system in place, with the exception of mentorships for some careers, such as metalworking, and military training. If they take part in work for the kingdom, they’ll have societal benefits and a secure place in the tribe, and most end up in that position eventually. But there are always a few SkyWings who simply live on the outskirts, uninterested in the larger tribe.

-They don’t form many close relationships, being fairly solitary dragons as soon as they leave their siblings. They do not very often form genuine romantic relationships, but marriage is fairly common simply as a formality or political maneuver. Royals in particular almost always get married, though they don’t usually form natural bonds with their spouses. The only responsibilities parents have is bringing food to their nest until the dragonets abandon it.

Culture and Society:

-SkyWings are proud and solitary; these things combined have given them a reputation of being rude, aloof and uncharismatic. They are powerful fighters and fliers, but their strength is not in diplomacy. Their kingdom norms, though, which allow every dragon to simply utilize for the tribe whatever talents they may have, at their own leisure and for whatever profit might be available to them, suits them well and has made for an uncomplicated but successful society. (This is excluding a few periods such as the reign of Queen Scarlet, who reshaped the tribe into something more dictatorial.)

-They are generally quite matriarchal; every tribe has a queen, but SkyWings tend to have a more overall unbalanced system. Females are a bit larger than males and are usually in higher positions of command.

-Fire is extremely important to SkyWing culture - it produces light, warmth, and without it they would be much less deadly in combat. It has its place in almost every tradition and is used in almost every career path.

-They are the most superstitious tribe in some ways, their lives dictated heavily by tradition and spirituality. The way dragonets are raised is one example; there are countless others, including funeral rites that involve burning, gladiator fights performed for glory, a general belief of night marking bad luck, and others.

-Continuing on this note, SkyWings - though most would never admit it aloud - are almost universally afraid of the dark. The caves and caverns in which they live are always warm and well-lit, via torches lit by their own fire, and they are almost exclusively out by day. They worship the sun and daytime, believing it to chase away the shadows in its glory. NightWings, for similar reasons, tend to be unnerving to them.

-And to elaborate on gladiator fights: The arena near the palace was originally constructed for SkyWings to prove their prowess by fighting other SkyWings and completing various challenges. During these fights they would wear a special set of ceremonial armor, which they could then keep if they succeeded. (Scarlet, of course, transformed this arena into a convenient way to execute prisoners, and later Queen Ruby reinvented it completely by erecting a hospital where it had once stood.)

-In general, SkyWings are one of the only tribes to wear armor, and the only tribe that has used it for entire armies during war. A particular emphasis is placed on wing armor that allows for comfortable flight while still protecting the wing membranes, as a flightless SkyWing is considered as good as dead by its tribe.

-Jewelry almost always involves precious stones, particularly rubies, diamonds and citrine. It’s very common to have these jewels embedded in scales; some royals have done this with such excess that they appear to have crystals growing out of them.

Diet: Carnivorous. They eat birds, mountain goats, deer, and occasionally fish, rodents or whatever else they can catch. Sometimes raw, sometimes scorched. They don’t typically make full and elaborate meals like other tribes; the only common seasoning they use is salt. Other than the rare use of herbs for flavoring, they eat no plants at all.

#wings of fire #wof art #wof headcanons #skywings #my posts

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aurevell · 6 months

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Returning the Favor Sterek | 5k | T

Stiles pays a nighttime visit to his boyfriend in secret, or so he thinks. Unfortunately, the Hale family has keener ears than he realizes.

It’s late when Derek hears the noise at the side of the house. A creak of siding that cuts through the backdrop of cricket song. Just one lone sound, but there’s something cautious about it. Probing.

He lowers the book he’s reading, but no other sounds follow. Derek has been lying sprawled across his bed, drowsy and warm and comfortable, sweatpant-clad legs resting against the wall—but now that he’s conscious of the sound, his focus sharpening, he thinks he’s been hearing quiet noises grow nearer for some time without quite comprehending them. A wild animal outside, maybe, creeping slowly around the foundation of the house. Something large enough that the mulch in the flower bed crunches beneath its weight.

It’s not often that a solitary animal grows bold enough to venture this close to a werewolf pack—the scent always scares them off first. They don’t even get raccoons out here, especially not with the cold this time of year. It could always be their cousin Warren, who’s always thought it funny to startle his relatives with unexpected visits in the dead of night. Or any one of the nasty things in Uncle Peter’s wild stories, supernatural things that creep into the house come dark.

Derek glances at the window, book still resting on his chest, but the house is still.

Maybe it’s gone. That’s just as well: he’s too comfortable to drag himself over to the window to look.

And then another sound comes, an unmistakable creak. Heavy weight settling into place.

Downstairs, his mother sighs. “What was that?” she demands, her voice faint with distance. She and his dad are likely out on the porch swing at this time of evening, even though it’s nearly winter, lunatics that they are. “If Laura and Cora are at it again—”

“I’m sure they aren’t, Tal,” Derek’s father replies, sounding amused. “You put the fear of god in them.”

Mom scoffs. “If we have to repair another door, it’s coming out of their pockets.”

“Not everything is my fault, Mom,” Cora mutters pointedly from down the hall. There’s heavy metal coming from the vicinity of Laura’s bedroom, just low enough to be blasting from her headphones, and she doesn’t pipe up to defend herself.

The thing hasn’t gone away. Metal squeaks a moment later, and then the scrabbling returns, punctuated by a thump and a muffled grunt.

Annoyed, Derek tosses the book aside and clambers to his feet, crossing over to the window. When he hoists up the sash, letting the night chill waft in, he peers down into the dark and finds that the source is worse than anything he could have imagined.

It’s his boyfriend, scaling the side of the house like some deranged cat burglar.

Stiles is hanging onto the drainpipe, having managed to hoist himself several feet off the ground. He’s leaning against the metal awning over the kitchen window, one foot atop the shutter and the other scrabbling for purchase against the siding. At the clatter of Derek’s opening window, he looks up, startled, and nearly loses his balance.

“What are you doing here?” Derek hisses.

“Just returning the favor.” With a moment to catch himself against the awning, Stiles gets his bearing and grins. “What? Don’t make that face. C’mon, you can show up at all hours of the night, but turnabout isn’t fair play?”

With that, he sticks his tongue between his teeth, which he sometimes does unconsciously when something demands his full attention. And the perilous task of climbing should get his full attention, given how often he stumbles when both of his feet are on the ground. God, Derek is about to witness his idiot boyfriend fall to his death or something.

Stiles heaves himself mostly onto the awning, clawing for purchase with a grunt. When he reaches for the window, he loses his grip, nearly sliding backward onto the grass; in a flash of panic, Derek grabs him by his shirt and yanks him forward.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demands, aware of their volume and even more aware of their audience.

The awning rattles as Stiles draws up his long legs to slip inside the window feet first, ducking under the sash. He’s panting a little as he pulls himself upright, though he bats his eyes sweetly in the face of Derek’s scowl. “Oh, please. I knew you’d catch me. ‘My hero,’ and all that.”

“Should have let you fall and die,” Derek retorts, shutting the window.

“Probably. Oh man, that was so athletic. Sometimes, I amaze myself.”

Derek doesn’t have anything smart to say to that. He’s only half paying attention, too busy bracing for the discussion sure to follow.

He and Stiles may as well have stomped up and down the stairs blowing air horns as far as the rest of the house goes. Everyone will have heard. Derek is absolutely sure because you can hear a pin drop, like no one’s even moving, like everyone’s waiting with bated breath—either gleeful or judgmental or both—to hear what comes next. Even Laura’s deafening headphones have gone silent. Fuck.

Worst of all…Stiles doesn’t know any of this. He doesn’t yet know about the secret the Hale family hides, or how keenly they can hear, or that every word he says will be seized up and cheerfully dissected and gossiped about in real time.

Read the rest on AO3

#sterek #sterek fic #mine #vaguely inspired by a tumblr post i have been unable to find after multiple searches in the month+ it took me to write this #i think it was a pic of two cats falling off a roof??#and whoever posted it was basically like 'haha this is stiles-coded after he tries to climb derek's window and pulls derek down with him'#i'm pretty sure i even reblogged it and yet where is it??#if you know what i'm talking about let me know lmao #anyway #this is only a little bit about stiles struggling through the window #mostly it's about how i think werewolf hearing would upgrade the sibling-on-sibling crime possibilities in any given household #and the fact that you could not get away with ANYTHING noisy without every other person in the house knowing about it #so having blabbermouth stiles stilinski pop into said household while being totally ignorant of the existence of werewolves...#let's just say 'poor derek' and leave it at that lmao

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coldresolve · 6 months

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Moneymakers, pt.xxxix // The Midnight Talk

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A change in the light wakes Conrad up. Slowly, at first, until his tired eyes manage to focus on the texture of the painted wall. It’s a softer, warmer light than the LEDs in the ceiling. Maybe Davin turned on the little desk lamp.

He’s comfortable and warm under the duvet, but Conrad knows the sooner he can swallow the pills, the sooner he can go back to sleep. So he lets out a low groan against the haze in his body, the way his senses blend together into a blurry, washed out image. Fighting that feeling of ethereal calm takes effort, but he manages to push himself up to sitting, and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand while the other keeps balance. Shudders slightly in the cold air.

When he finally looks up, he freezes in place, suppressing a sharp inhale. Because the man across from him is not Davin.

It’s Renee.

He’s sitting in the desk chair with one ankle resting across his knee, hands clamped tight over his shin, foot tapping an irregular rhythm in the air. Faint sweat stains mark the neck and chest of his t-shirt. Tiny flakes of dried blood dot the skin above his upper lip, as if he didn’t quite manage to clean up after a nosebleed. There’s something hungry in the way he takes in Conrad’s reaction to seeing him, something unnatural about the intensity of his stare. His eyes are too wide. His breathing is too quick. “I won’t lie to you,” he mutters seriously. “I am off my fucking shit right now.”

And his demeanor cracks, bleeds into a crooked smile. Traces of laughter are expelled from his nose, like he’s trying to hold it in.

Conrad lets out a bewildered string of syllables before he finally manages to stutter out an uncertain sentence. “What t-time is it?”

“Nighttime, dumbass.” Renee snickers. He leans back, kicks out his legs, resting his feet against the edge of the bed, one foot to either side of where Conrad is huddled. “What, you got places to be or something?” Laughs a little. “Where are you gonna go this time? Hm?”

Conrad’s stomach sinks. He shrinks back fully against the cold wall, like a cornered animal, as the first threads of fear start to creep up his spine. “What, what do you want?”

“I just wanna chat, dude, I’m in a talking mood. It’s been a while, no?” Hands folded across his abdomen, Renee taps his thumbs together. He makes continual little adjustments to how he’s sitting, like he’s bursting with energy, but has no real way to release it. Rocks slightly with the backrest, scratches at his arms, jaw working. “We used to have fun, you know? Where’d that go, hm?”

Conrad swallows, dumbfounded. Renee is always unpredictable, but this feels dangerous in a different way. Like a more severe loss of control, something you can’t begin to approach without the risk of tipping the scales completely. Is he supposed to say something? His eyes flicker to the door.

Renee instantly follows his gaze, then lets out a chuckle. “Mhm,” he hums. And then something happens - his eyes trail out over the black nothingness beyond the window, his expression becomes slack for a moment, maybe ten seconds, as the constant fiddling fades to a halt - before his gaze snaps right back to Conrad, and he starts rocking in his seat again. “I like when you’re scared, you know,” he says, smiling. “It suits you.” Sniffs. “Davin told me about the little lockpick you made. Bet you felt real clever about it, didn’t you? I bet you thought you were real fucking clever.”

He stands up suddenly, chair scooting across the floor, cocks his head to the side. Conrad flinches and leans further back against the wall. Something about the man’s eyes is alarming, not normal - the way he’s barely blinking, the dark voids of his pupils. His teeth glisten in the low light.

“How’s that workin’ out for you, huh? Do you still think you’re smart? You’re a fucking cripple now, aren’t ya?” And he lets out another low laugh, leaning down, hands against his knees, to look at Conrad eye to eye. “Life catches up to you, eh? Always fuckin’ does.”

In the cold rush of his building fear, hands clutched tight in the fabric of the duvet, Conrad returns Renee’s stare with wide eyes, because he’s pretty sure the man will snap if he doesn’t.

Renee lets out a snort, shaking his head slightly. “You’re such a fucking pussy, you know that? Spineless fucking… choir boy.” His smile veers off into a sneer, a crease of disgust. “I know who I am. That’s what you don’t seem to get. You can’t get it through your thick skull. I thought you were naïve at first, but you’re just goddamn stupid. I’m the guy who can do whatever the fuck he wants.” The last sentence is hissed through gritted teeth, eyes burning, breathing somewhat labored. He hammers his index finger at his own chest. “I’m the guy who fucking made you.”

Conrad grits his teeth. He silently counts to three and takes a quick, deep breath. “Dav—”

His shout is cut short as Renee’s fist connects to the side of his mouth, upper lip splitting on his own teeth, and the back of his head thunks hard off the wall. Dazed, Conrad ignores the instinct to stop and collect himself, just pushes off the wall with his hands, thigh searing in pain as he tries to gather his feet under himself and dart past Renee –

An arm wraps around his neck and pulls him back down, choking out the cry on his tongue. Conrad’s back hits the bed, soon followed by the weight of Renee’s upper body, centered Conrad’s chest, and a hand clamps so tight over his mouth, his head is pressed into the mattress. Conrad digs his heels in to try to twist his body free, pushing Renee with both hands, clawing, balling his hands into fists and hitting whatever he can as hard as he can, but none of it seems to faze Renee. He just shifts the weight pinning Conrad down incrementally, until he’s almost lying directly on top of him. The nauseating heat of his body, the weight. At one point, his knee digs into Conrad’s thigh, and the bandages there shift, and it feels like something tears. A cry, partly out of pain, partly out of panic, is muffled against a palm.

“Shut up,” Renee growls. There’s three red scratch marks on his cheekbone, another along his jaw, two of them bleeding enough for it to start rolling down his face. Once he finally manages to get in a position where he can straddle Conrad, he coils a hand around his throat, closing his airway. His other hand leaves Conrad’s mouth to join the chokehold. Wild eyes burning with contempt, excitement, teeth bared in a grin. “I’m a god to you. Do you understand that? I’m fucking divine, bitch.” And he lets out a high whistle through his teeth, leaning the full weight on his upper body onto his hands.

The pain in Conrad’s throat skyrockets as his Adam’s apple is forced down on his windpipe. His fingers claw desperately at Renee’s arms, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress, until his feet tangled in the duvet. His heart drums against the inside of his skull, he can feel the way the blood pools in his face, mouth open. The spasms of his diaphragm as his chest tries and fails to expand. Renee’s figure, looming above him, is clouded by a mess of sparks that begin to dart across his vision.

“Calm down. Do you want to breathe? Look at me, asshole. Do you want to breathe?”

Body convulsing, Conrad fumbles for Renee’s wrists, forcing his eyes to focus on the blurring silhouette of Renee’s face. He never manages to nod, but the pressure on his throat eases slightly, allowing him to draw in a fraction of a breath, before it returns, just as unforgiving as before.

“See? I can do whatever I want,” Renee says breathlessly. Laughs, sticking his tongue out between his teeth. “You can talk shit, but I can kill you if I fucking feel like it. Stupid bitch. I can do anything.”

The edges of Conrad’s vision are beginning to darken, a numbness spreading in his limbs, a prickling sensation in his face, when the pressure suddenly stops altogether.

As he gasps for air, he’s vaguely aware that Renee has grabbed both of his wrists, pinning one arm into the mattress next to his head, but raising the other toward himself. Conrad is so busy heaving for breath, trying to collect the strength to struggle again, he barely realizes what Renee is doing before the man’s teeth sink into his forearm.

Conrad lets out a wordless shout, back arching against new pain. There’s zero inhibition in the bite, he can feel the skin breaking, the relentless force as flesh is pried apart, the way sinew seems to get pushed out of the way, the sharp pinpricks of disbanding tissue. “Stop!” he screams. “Stop! Please stop, please stop—”

But his feeble attempts to pry his arm free only seem to strengthen Renee’s resolve. His jaw sort of locks on Conrad’s arm, teeth steadily sinking deeper. The pressure brings with it a blinding, piercing pain, and a fear in the part of Conrad’s mind that is still capable of thought, that Renee might actually reach the bone, that he might actually bite all the way through and tear a large chunk out.

Beneath Conrad’s cries, a loud thunk fills the room, one that finally makes Renee pause, and the piercing pain in Conrad’s arm ceases, leaving him to gasp in its aftershocks.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?!”

Renee’s grin is stained red as he straightens up, rocking slightly. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Davin blinks. His hair is down, tangled from sleep. “Are you high?”

Renee giggles, looking back at Conrad. “Hell yeah,” he says, letting go of Conrad’s arm only to firmly pat his cheek. The blood dribbling out of his mouth, staining his chin, is beginning to extend its fingers down his neck. “We’re just chattin’.”

“He bit me,” Conrad pants, voice shaking. “H-he bit me. He bit me.”

The disbelief is painted on Davin’s face. For a moment, he just stands there staring, brow furrowed.

“You look pissed,” Renee says zestfully. He’s still breathing hard, as if he just exercised.

“Get out,” Davin says.

Renee snickers. Pats Conrad’s cheek again, a little harder this time. “He’s definitely pissed.”

“Out,” Davin repeats, pointing to the door for emphasis.

Renee rolls his eyes, but he does shift his weight then. As soon as he has swung his leg over the edge of the bed, Conrad scurries up, crawling backwards on the bed until his back hits the corner between the wall and the headboard, drawing his legs up in front of him and clutching his forearm tight. His blood stains the bedsheets, drops and smears scattered in different places, absorbed by the fabric. His arm is throbbing.

Renee’s nonchalant steps circle Davin in the middle of the room, until he starts walking backwards toward the door. “You guys are so fucking boring, you know? I’m just here to have fun.”

“Leave,” Davin says firmly.

Raising a brow, Renee throws both hands up in defeat. Spins around, chuckling to himself, grabbing hold of the doorframe.

Davin turns his attention back to Conrad just a fraction of a second too soon. He doesn’t see the way Renee freezes on the threshold, stopping with one foot still in the room, the other in the hallway, hand still clutching the frame.

“Show me what he did,” Davin says gently.

Conrad swallows, eyes flickering between Davin and Renee’s back. “H-he…”

Davin follows his gaze. Sneers in frustration. “I mean it, Renee, get the fuck out.”

But Renee doesn’t react, doesn’t even turn his head. Just stands there, swaying slightly with the rhythm of his own rapid breathing.

Davin hesitates. “Renee?” he says, and the edge of his voice is gone. He slowly walks over to him, puts a hand on his shoulder to turn him around. Renee follows the movement, feet automatically dragging back to keep his balance, but although his grasp on the doorframe is broken, his hand doesn’t drop; it just hovers in the air, unmoving. His expression is empty, mouth hanging slightly open, gaze unfocused.

“You alright? Renee…?” Brows furrowed, Davin waves a hand in front of the man’s face. Renee half-blinks, but it seems more like a reflex than any real sign of life. His gaze stays blank. Davin shakes Renee’s shoulder a little, then holds the back of his hand up against Renee’s forehead. It prompts no reaction, but Conrad sees the muscles in Davin’s jaw working. Eventually, he steps back and lets out a sigh, casting his head back. “… three in the fucking morning,” he mutters at the ceiling. Looks down at the watch on his wrist, then back to Renee, as if he’s waiting, counting the seconds.

Suddenly, Renee blinks, gives a minute shake of his head. Frowns at Davin. “What?”

“I’d like you to sit down,” Davin tells him, nodding at the desk chair.

Snorting, Renee throws his hands out. “You literally just told me to leave.”

“I changed my mind. Sit down.”

Renee rolls his eyes again. Trots back to the chair, hasn’t sat down for a second before his leg starts bouncing. He looks at Davin expectantly, one brow raised.

“Sit there while I get my things. Twenty seconds, alright? You don’t fucking touch him.”

Renee snickers. “Chill, dude. I’ll be nice, I swear.”

His eyes follow Davin as he leaves, and then he shakes his head, mindlessly picking at his jeans. “Fucking weirdo,” he grumbles. “Everybody’s so pissed all the time.” He wipes at his chin, and seems surprised when his hand comes away red. Spends a few moments drying his face in his t-shirt, gaze sort of mindlessly drifting, until it reaches Conrad, still huddled in the corner of the bed. “Show me,” he says then. “I wanna see it.”

Conrad nervously clutches his arm tighter to his chest. The pain has faded by now, but his arm is pulsing, and he still feels warm blood seeping through his fingers, making his skin sticky. He has yet to even look at it himself, but the last thing he wants is to let Renee revel in whatever damage he caused.

Renee smiles a little, but it fades just as quickly. Eyes wide. “Show me.” He’s rocking in his seat again, a tiny back and forth, which along with the bouncing leg betrays how much he’s struggling to contain his energy.

Davin comes back with his shoulder bag, and Conrad suppresses a sigh of relief as Renee’s attention snaps to him instead.

Renee stuffs his hands in his pockets, almost like an attempt to stop fidgeting. “What do you want me to do? Hm?”

Davin dumps the bag on the desk, starts filtering through its contents. “Just try to relax.”

Renee grimaces. “I’m not gonna just fucking sit here, dude. I’m vibrating, I’m high. If you’re not gonna fuckin’… give me the Leave-Conrad-Alone talk or whatever, I’d rather just leave, you know?”

Pulling out a syringe and a glass vial, Davin nods. “I’ll let you go in a bit,” he says. Pops the cap off the syringe and lets it fall on the table.

“What’s that?”

Davin shoots him a look. “Rabies shot for Conrad.”

Renee bursts out laughing at that, leaning forward in the chair, until he’s almost folded over completely, head between his knees. “Good one,” he chuckles. And then the smile fades, and he just stares at the floor for a minute, jaw working. “God, everybody in this house is so fuckin’ dead,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “You guys don’t get it. It’s killing me, you know? It’s boring as hell. You’re boring. I’m just tryna make a living, you know?” He looks up at Davin, sneering. “I don’t even know what the fuck you’re here for. You don’t give a shit. You’re just…” He trails off, gaze drifting off to the side. “… y-… you…” And his eyelids begin to flutter slightly, restless movements fading to an uncanny stillness. The only thing that remains is that labored breathing, the occasional twitch of his mouth, almost like a wince.

“Right,” Davin mutters. He pauses drawing liquid into the syringe to check his watch again.

Conrad swallows. “What, what’s wrong with him?”

“Seizure,” Davin says simply. “He’s overdosing.”

Somehow, the thought hadn’t even crossed Conrad’s mind. He looks at Renee’s limp form in the chair, the way his body sways somewhat, the way his head slowly, slowly rolls back, exposing a throat still smeared with Conrad’s blood. His eyelids didn’t flutter before, but they do now, small bursts in between an empty gaze levelled at the ceiling.

Conrad watches as Davin sets the vial down, pulls up the sleeve of Renee’s t-shirt and injects something into his shoulder. Renee doesn’t seem to be aware of it whatsoever. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. He’s just absent.

Throwing the needle in a trash bin, Davin stands back and checks his watch again. “Come on, Vaughan,” he mutters under his breath.

It takes a while longer than the last one, but Renee eventually blinks, straightening his head back up. Swallows, fishing a hand out of his pocket to scratch at his shoulder, right at the spot where Davin injected him. His knee starts bouncing again. “I forgot what I was thinking,” he says.

Davin snorts. “I bet.” He takes a deep breath before he turns to Conrad. “While that’s cooking… Come sit on the edge of the bed, yeah? You don’t have to get up, but I’d like to see it, alright?”

Conrad grits his teeth, eyes flickering to Renee. “Not when he’s in here.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not leaving for a while. C’mon, I can tell it’s bleeding. I’d like to get this over with.”

Renee snickers, resting his chin on his hand, a smug smile on his face. “Yeah, Connie. Show him.”

Davin looks on the verge of snapping something at Renee, but he composes himself. “If it’s any consolation,” he tells Conrad, “he probably won’t remember more than bits of pieces of this come tomorrow.”

Renee lets out a low chuckle. “Davin’s a liar. So there’s that.”

A knowing sort of smirk flashes over Davin’s face, just long enough for Conrad to catch it. So he takes a moment to collect himself, and then, still clutching his arm, uses his good leg to inch across the bed, wincing as the movement stirs the pain in his bad one. Maybe the pills are wearing off. Can adrenaline make that happen faster? He keeps the bad leg bent, crossed under the one he swings over the edge of the bed. Davin crouches down in front of him, and Conrad reluctantly holds out his arm, taking an anxious breath before he uncoils his hand from the wound.

He's not sure what he expected. His skin is smeared with blood, and the edges are hard to make out, but it looks like a bite mark. Two half-circles, fading before they meet. Faint indentations of molars which didn’t quite pierce the skin, but left enough of an impression to still be visible. As Davin carefully pulls the skin apart with two fingers, the wound gapes, revealing the depth of it – deep enough to need stitches, Conrad can tell already. The other side is just as bad.

Renee lets out a whistle, which breaks into laughter. “Damn. I can’t believe I did that.”

Conrad clears his throat, avoids looking in Renee’s direction. “I think something happened with, with my leg, too,” he says uncertainly. “I’m not sure, it just felt like it.”

Davin nods his understanding. “We’ll check that, too.” And he gets up to grab his supplies, throwing them on the bed next to Conrad. Pulls on a pair of disposable gloves before he crouches back down. “You know the drill by now,” he says softly.

Conrad doesn’t answer that.

He sits in pensive silence, just watching as Davin cleans his arm, feels his skin break out in goosebumps at the coldness of the saline solution. When Davin pulls apart a packet containing a syringe, he looks away. He knows where the lidocaine goes, he doesn’t want to see it.

The tight sting of the first injection makes him lock up his jaw, although he manages to keep his face neutral. The second one isn’t so bad either. But at the third one, Conrad feels the muscles in his back seize up, and he draws in a sharp breath through his nose, curling both hands into fists. Against his better judgement, he glances at Renee. But the man isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s slumped a little in the chair, staring at the ceiling, leg still bouncing a small rhythm on the floor. Even still, Conrad looks away again, turns his head. Silently thankful for the fact that although he’s in pain, at least that pain isn’t being exploited.

The lidocaine is over relatively quickly. Conrad knew it would be. When Davin starts the actual stitches themselves, there’s no pain. Just that strange, tactile feeling of the needle poking through, of the thread being pulled together. The warmth of Davin’s hands through the gloves.

Two minutes have passed, maybe three, when Renee’s low groan resonates in the room. “Hah, fuck.” He’s still slumped in the chair, but his chest has fallen a bit, hands slack over the armrests. No fidgeting, no restlessness. He just stares at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, breathing slow and even. “Fuck,” he says again, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Davin pauses what he’s doing, raises a brow. “You alright?”

Renee’s gaze slowly drifts down to meet the other’s. Even the way he blinks seems to lag somewhat. “Mh,” he lets out.

Smirking, Davin nods. “It’s late. Maybe it’s time to go to bed, hm?”

“Yeah,” Renee concedes. Doesn’t move, just keeps looking, in a way that doesn’t really suggest he’s paying much attention to anything.

“Do you need a hand getting there?” Davin asks.

Renee frowns a little. “Where?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Oh…” Renee sniffs, swallowing. “Nah, ’m good,” he says. Slowly, very slowly, he manages to pull his legs under him, pushing off the armrests with both hands. He staggers slightly for the first step, but then seems to catch himself – until he bumps his thigh into the corner of the desk, almost knocking over Davin’s shoulder bag in an attempt to steady himself. “Shit…” And then he trots along, feet dragging on the floor as he walks past the threshold.

Once Renee has left, Davin turns back to Conrad. He looks on the verge of saying something, but it falters. Instead he just lets out a long sigh.

“Just get it, get it over with,” Conrad mutters.

Davin smirks. “Exactly.”

Previous / Masterlist / Next

#writing #moneymakers #conrad #renee #davin

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kazoohaa · 1 year

Note

More dorm leader monthly meet up headcanons. I love them

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐒. dorm leaders

— notes. more chaos with the housewardens !! (sorry this was very late !) you can find part one and two here :]

— details. riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, vil schoenheit, idia shroud & malleus draconia as a chaotic friend group headcanons, pt 3.

so imagine this. hide and seek, capture the flag, or another similar game. except it’s high-stakes, and magic is sprinkled into it. and it’s played in the dead of night at whichever dorm they’re staying at this time, to add to the scare-factor.

because wouldn’t it be fun to do a modified, magical game of something like hide and seek in a dimly lit dorm while trying to stay as quiet as possible to not alert its members?

this game’s only hosted occasionally, because leona’s often snoozing by then, vil’s quite adamant on getting his beauty sleep, and riddle’s also particular about how many broken rules he’d let slide.

the hide and seek game is pretty extreme, nobody remains in one place and they’re constantly moving around while trying to sabotage the other players

honestly, it’s like beans day, but magic’s allowed and they don’t get too fiercely competitive. and they also have to make sure that nobody gets woken up while they’re at it

(but really, they aren’t fooling anyone. it’s very hard to stay asleep when you can hear housewarden idia screeching in shock when he gets found.)

in heartslabyul, the game ended up mostly spent in the winding paths of the rose maze. in savanaclaw, everyone had to get creative due to the more open area and less places that offered a good hiding spot. in octavinelle, the underwater theme was a nice addition. mostro lounge was a suitable place to hide, but azul always requires repayment if anything’s destroyed there. in scarabia, kalim would often whip out the magic carpet to get around quicker and zoom around the place. in pomefiore, it’s easier to find places to hide due to its many rooms and decorations, but nobody was above scaling the walls and hiding somewhere above the building too. in ignihyde, oh boy. idia adds hologram projectors for momentary ‘illusions’ to mess with people, or playing some sounds on in-built speakers to divert attention. diasomnia’s one of the best places, though, due to its gloomy ancient castle vibe.

other than those games, sometimes there isn’t much time for such entertainment and they all have to actually study — riddle and azul gladly assist the others and give study tips, idia helps handle the research, leona and malleus offer their insight and help with more of the practical parts, kalim keeps the vibe comfortable and happy, and vil makes sure that nobody’s pushing themselves too much and that they get ample breaks in-between. they must maintain a good balance on study and personal health!

ooh and the food they get at each dorm too

there’s always some spare tarts over at heartslabyul, and riddle sometimes tries his hand at making desserts (occasionally with trey’s assistance), so there’s lots of sweets and tea there. vil absolutely can’t stand for an unbalanced diet, though, so he always brings healthy foods too that they eat after the sweets.

leona doesn’t cook much, so it’s usually left to ruggie to offer some food for the other dorm leaders. and his cooking’s pretty good!

in octavinelle, they have a whole full-course meal. azul’s mother didn’t have a restaurant for nothing! azul learned a lot from her, and it shows in his cooking, too. truly restaurant-worthy. he’s also very mindful about the healthy balances in food, so there wasn’t much need to worry about it. and it still stays absolutely delicious no matter what!

scarabia also offers a feast, which jamil cooks because he absolutely cannot trust kalim in the kitchen. like azul, jamil also keeps the food a good nutritional balance while making it taste amazing, but it’s just the sheer amount of food offered which has everyone stumped... kalim always asks for an amount that’s more suited for a whole celebration, so the rest of scarabia often cooks some dishes and eats with them, too.

pomefiore’s the strictest with the food, naturally, because of vil’s standards. he isn’t nearly as strict as he was with the vdc performance group, but it’s still very obvious that he’s picky about things.

ignihyde... the best idia can offer are a multitude of flavours of cup noodles. everyone facepalms, and makes a mental note to bring better food with them while also admonishing idia about his eating habits.

lilia’s food is avoided at all costs at diasomnia. it’s a bit difficult, because he always gets so enthusiastic when he learns that the housewardens would be staying at their dorm this time, and he immediately heads to the kitchen to prepare some food for the occasion... which everyone quickly tries to ease him out of.

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tequiilasunriise · 1 year

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A lot of y’all seemed to have REALLY enjoyed my ‘Enid is a lesbian because she says howdy’ shitpost so here’s another round of me performing Olympic god medal level mental gymnastics in order to explain how Wenclair works:

Okay so, as taught by my Bumbleby roots, names can have SIGNIFICANT have power. So to see if that applied here, I looked up the meanings of Wenclair’s names.

Enid: life, spirit

Sinclair: saintly, pure

Wednesday: Originates from the Norse god Woden (Woden’s Day) who was associated with death

Addams: The creator, Charles Addams, clearly inserted his own surname here, but it’s interesting to note that Addams means earth

Wenclair really are polar opposites aren’t they? Sun and Moon Girlfriends™️ not just aesthetically, but even down to their names (giggles in BB giggles in BB giggles in BB-). It’s almost like they were meant to parallel and compliment the other from the moment they were born.

The Sun- warm, pure, full of spirit and energy and a giver of Life.

The Moon- dark, shadowy, a blanket of cover for Death as she calmly overlooks her star-studded realm.

Did y’all know that Life and Death can not exist without the other? They are perfect equal-yet-opposites foils of one other that are in this grand cycle of balance. One is not inherently better than the other, mind you. Furthermore, I love the idea of inverting these tropes. The Sun may be associated with Life, but do not underestimate her- she can just as easily take this life away. Scorching wildfires, droughts, a rage like a sleeping wolf now awakened by her lover’s call. The Moon may be associated with Death, but she is also a symbol for change. The ever-shifting tides she controls, the phases she cycles through, the way Wednesday helps Enid change for the better. Sun & Moon, Life & Death, two halves of a rather lovely whole.

That being said, there’s also something sweet to be said about Addams meaning earth. The Earth is often associated with feelings of welcoming because, well, above all else, Earth means home (see the goddess Gaia for example). Like, yes, being celestial beings on a grand scale of equality and eternal devotion is amazing, but there’s also a charm to Addams meaning earth, of Addams meaning home. Enid is not accepted by her own family, but that’s alright, because she’s made a home in the loving arms of another. I like to imagine that on that on the flipside, there’s the symbolism of ‘earth’ not in the sense of the whole world, but earth like the soil beneath our feet. Wednesday seeing ‘earth’ as the ground we trodden upon and going, “Would you really want to settle for some dirt like I?”. Enid, with no hesitation, replying, “I like this dirt, it’s great for growing beautiful flowers. I wouldn’t want any other home but you, Willa.” Enid Addams does have quite the ring to it, wouldn’t you agree?

#if I made any of yall cry sorry not sorry #i fucken LOVE symbolism analysis and ofc imma bring it here to the wenclair fandom #sun and moon life and death gfs so TRUE #home as not a place but rather a person supremacy #some of yall might think im crazy fer such in depth name analysis but lemme just say #being in the rwby fandom fer several long years will get to you like this #again sorry not sorry #if theres any HINT of more symbolism in the show yall already know imma be on that shit like a mf bloodhound #anything fer yall anything fer yall #wenclair warriors moment #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #do i tag bumbleby #yes I do #bumbleby #rwby

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autumnbrambleagain · 9 months

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Golden Treasure: The Great Green Draak-Kin ranked by how badly I want to Dance with them

Spoilers, obviously. Not counting any of the Elders, who are too massive and great for me to ever dare consider the possibility of Dancing with.

9: Bard: You know when you’re a popular furry artist and you get people sliding into your DMs telling you how you’re their destined partner and you were meant to be together forever, but what they really want is the prestige of putting your icon in their profile and the free art you'll draw for them? That’s Bard. Bard shows up and Sings a True Song of Cringe at you. Go home, Bard.

8: Flare: Tries to overwhelm you with a big display of force. We’re Draak-Kin, though, so that’s fine. Decently strong for a young Draak to handle, but folds pretty fast if you have some strength of your own. Look, I appreciate the effort, but if I gave myself away to everyone who burnt a tree for me, I’d be quite poor.

7: Tempest: Now we’re getting somewhere. A great steward to its demesne, loves its land deeply. Clever, traditional, proud, humble, all things in balance. A good and polite neighbor as well. When you challenge it, it tears you out of the sky without warning, very bold gambit, and drags you into its own battleground. Nice, appreciate the passion. Then it tries to Sing the True Song of Destruction at you if it loses. But whines like a little bitch if you Sing the True Song of Destruction at IT first. You know what we call that? A sore loser. You fumbled your prey in the last moment, Tempest, I’m sorry. I respect you, but you aren’t worthy of my Dances.

6: Bloom: A pretty serious challenge if you aren’t prepared for it. Runs a very clever scam on the Goodbeasts, too, and when it returns later, it’s found a greater wisdom, and has become a truly respectable Draak. When it finally Sings to you, its Symbols are as beautiful as its Body, as its Essence, as its ideals. A true and proper rival, suitable to Dance with by either Law, but inspires little in me but respect and admiration. These are fine qualities—but my teeth seek firmer fare yet…

5: Warden: Look, I get it, I have the OCD/autisms too. Very pretty, also. But the absolute worst neighbor—will not respect your claim and will pillage your land if you don’t completely agree with it about everything it says. Frustrating. Infuriating. You do not know how deeply, how longingly, how much I fantasized about our Dances. Oh. Oh, I want to Dance with you, by the First Law or Second I don’t care. Let me Sing the truth of my entropy into your feathers, let me carve my answer for you into your scales. Let me mar you. Let me unmake your perfection. I will show you my own Way, Warden, and you will Sing my name in praise. SING FOR ME.

4: Rift: Ah. Oh. Oh, Sing the True Song of Destruction into me as I Sing my True Song of Healing into you. Let us become enjoined in an act of Destructive Creation, Creative Destruction. Oh, Rift. Oh, I want to leave the Great Green ravaged in the wake of our passion. Oh, let the Goodbeasts marvel for generations in the proof of our bloodied lust for one another.

3: Vantage: Beautiful. Disdainful. Brilliant. Utterly, absolutely, devastatingly brilliant. Your weapons are not just your claws, your Body, your Songs. Your weapons are your land, all of it. Our Dance started Turnings before I crossed your claim, imagined and prepared for while I slept. Oh Vantage. Ply a thousand traps against me. Set your demesne like teeth, snap the entire thing at me, DESTROY me with the Earth you rule. I will slip each scheme, each trick, I will come to you unbloodied and I will make you MINE. Let us be rivals eternal. Let us do each Dance, one after the other. Let us do it each Turning, one after the other. The teeth of our Bodies and Minds will sharpen on one another forever. Let us SING in ESSENCE of EVERY DEFINITION. Beautiful hatred, maddening obsession, furious lust--is this what the Clansingers call Love?

2: Whisper: Oh. Oh. Oh Whisper. You were dealt so poorly with by the Onesong and what did you do? You thrived despite it. You thrived in spite of it. Each Sun you lived was an act of defiance. Oh, what passion for Life you have. What a fragile, dangerous thing you are. A glass fang. The fleeting razor’s edge of ice, slicing cold the flesh as it passes by in silence, melting in the heat of the body it opens. Let me feel your Symbols in my Mind once more. Feel my claws in your Body once more. I want to share it with you. I want to share my EVERYTHING with you. Come DIE with me. Come LIVE with me. BE MINE OR MAKE ME YOURS. I WANT TO SHARE AN ETERNITY WITH YOU.

1: Never-Ever: You are not Draak-Kin. You don’t seek to be Draak-Kin. You are not of our Way. You are not of our Essence. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and will ever see. You are as terrifying as any Elder. This is perverse and wrong. But you are perverse and wrong. I want to taste the fleeting nightmare of your Dance, just one more time.

#golden treasure: the great green #autumn says things #waifu/husbando rankings #number one will surprise you

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drartslog · 1 year

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Barn scene breakdown-1

Second part coming in a couple of hours as I have to rewrite it due to network collapse *sigh*

Now that it was announced that Joseph left... Guess all I have left are these precious little bits of his acting mastery. Get ready, this scene is an emotional train wreck

Let’s do this.

First shot, camera heavily tilted to the left.

Before Charlotte Brändström said this angle was to show how Adar tips Galadriel off balance, me and my partner had a discussion on whether it is to show that they’re both Distorted (yes, with Melkor’s darkness) or it is a victory OR even sin scales leaning towards Galadriel.

Galadriel’s standing dagger in hand, full body towards Adar, in an undeniable position of power, although she’s keeping her distance to be able see Adar clearly.

Adar is stripped of the gauntlet and whatever piece of rusted shit tip of sauron’s spear lol he’s carrying for a knife, he’s sitting in a very insecure pose, back to the wall, legs drawn to chest, his pierced hand hugging his mangled one.

Also, take notice how the light falls through the openings, just slightly casting Galadriel in itself and never touching Adar. They’re both quite deep in the dark, aren’t they? :)

Adar’s listening but looking past Galadriel, somewhere down and to the left of her (from Adar’s POV).

What might seem as a wandering gaze is actually a gaze fixed on her dagger. He doesn’t seem to fear her at all but it quite seems he’s waiting whether the torture is going to arrive or not. He’ll be looking at the dagger more or less until Galadriel threatens to torture the orcs.

Ah, there we go. Let me close-up.

The moment Galadriel says “the Sons of the Dark“ Adar’s lips’s corners twist down in a bitter smirk. (A vid might show it better)

And yes, “the Sons of the Dark“ does sound like it’s some title, something these elves chose to be, a name that they might carry with pride as the servants of Melkor. Adar is both bitter and angry at the assumption.

Adar glances at Galadriel for the first time.

The self-naming thing is the only thing he will put up a fight for. He doesn’t even begin to argue with the twisted, the ruined, the slaves, the scourge, as he knows his fight won’t matter to his captor, that all his statements will be disregarded.

The self-naming doesn’t interest Galadriel either (understandable, the Orcs are her enemy, she doesn’t want them to be humanized), as she cuts in

(Adar’s back looking at the dagger)

Adar bursts out laughing. At least what he substitutes for a burst of laughter.

He could’ve told her, he really could, all the stuff that passed unnoticed in the forest before her very eyes. But would she ever believe him, the enemy, that her friend is the true Enemy?

It is Adar’s continuous stare at the dagger that seems to make Galadriel realize she’s holding onto it.

I’m not guessing whether she has tortured Orcs before, but she’s really not into torturing in cold blood someone who resembles her kin so uncomfortably. She glances at the dagger in doubt, then finds another way.

We know this threat’s enough to make Adar start talking.

But it’s also the only thing that actually makes him look away from the potential source of his own torture (the dagger) for the first time and look at the potential source of torture for his Uruks (the sun). He blinks as the threat settles in.

It’s also the first time you can see his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

He starts talking while looking at the Uruks.

(Interesting word choice, though, he calls Melkor Morgoth, “The Black Foe of the World”, a title Feanor gave him and Elves used as an insult. But it is probably because tRoP doesn’t have the rights for “Melkor”)

He will never even once glance at Galadriel during his speech.

(Interesting word choice-2, though, as it shows us Adar called Sauron something else. Tar-Mairon probably, the guy loved that name)

He now stares into nothingness and his lips tremble when he talks about a power over flesh. The tears in his eyes can be fully seen now.

Mawle is playing it full PTSD-flashback mode, tbh. The sheer amount of shit Adar’s seen is reflected in his tired and strained expression.

Also let me point out this is the first time he’s ever talking about his feat of taking down the greatest Maia to walk Middle-Earth. Not a good time, not the best person to spill out to.

“He bid as many as he could follow him far North. But tried, as he might, something was missing. A shadow of dark knowledge that kept itself hidden. Even from him.“

And oh, Galadriel believes him really well.

She has been there, she has been to the stronghold where Sauron died, she has even felt the coldest chamber where the Uruk torture and, presumably, the murder occured. She blinks as shifts gaze as she realizes Adar’s telling the truth.

Adar’s not forgiving Sauron for what he did. He’s looking even lower than before, completely at the floor, even shaking his head a little bit.

He calls the Uruk “children”, he also expresses his discontent with what Sauron did.

And that’s what (quite literally) pulls Galadriel out of trance.

She has been unconsciously leaning towards Adar as he was telling the story but now that the spell is broken, she pulls back and keeps distance.

This is the first time he says these words out loud, “I killed Sauron”. It seems it’s hard for him to believe himself as at first he states it differently, “I split him open”, and only then makes himself acknowledge and say “I killed Sauron“.

It’s a confession Adar makes more to himself then to Galadriel.

Of course she doesn’t. She unifies everything that is connected to Melkor and can’t take in that someone on THAT side might actually not be on Melkor’s or Sauron’s side.

Now it’s Adar who’s not impressed at all. The camera does a job of breaking the viewers neck to see it, and I have a feeling it was to further deepen the misunderstanding between Galadriel and Adar. Galadriel just can’t see him right.

He tilts his head and looks back up at Galadriel for the first time since his story. Lets out an amused exhale (can’t show that on a gif!)

Adar seems to know the drill. I guess it’s not his first time talking to the Elves as an Uruk. So the Elven concept of “Orcs are indescibably inferior to us“ is very well-known to him.

By now he’s just saying it for her, mocking her, showing her he knows what she’s about to say.

But Adar is wrong, it wasn’t the Uruks in whole Galadriel was thinking of.

Oh that contempt in her eyes as she’s looking him up and down. She doesn’t see him as a threat, she doesn’t see him as a leader, she doesn’t see him as anything at all.

And then we get aboard the actual emotional train wreck that is this scene because Galadriel’s view of the world finally snaps Adar (and it’s not the personal insult that gets him but her view of the Uruks)

Galadriel’s isn’t taking that. For her, Orcs are definitely not a race of their own. They’re mindless beasts unleashed by Morgoth/Sauron.

Galadriel gets Adar even more, notice how his lips tremble and how his eyebrows and lower eyelids move before he says “a heart“. That’s what it looks like to argue and not believe you’ll ever be heard.

He isn’t heard. For Galadriel, Orcs are connected to Melkor, therefore they’re evil and that’s all there is to it.

And so Adar appeals to the only being they both have little knowledge about, trying to get to her through religion, if nothing else works.

They interrupt each other during this argument, the dialogue speeding up, showing each one passionately standing their own ground, ready to defend their own view of the world.

Galadriel isn’t ready to comprehend that Orcs may not want to serve Melkor/Sauron and may have wishes of their own. Something as simple as a home or just a life. Adar’s simply tired and miserable from hitting against the wall even as he tries again and again. There are tears in his eyes as he says the “just as worthy of a breath of life“ line. Firstly I thought it was just light reflection but no, the tears are perfectly seen when he blinks (after the word “life”). This freaking moment breaks my heart every time I see it

Galadriel’s world collides against that. She hasn’t the slightest idea what to do with his words at first as they don’t match anything she thinks or believes in. She just stands there as her brain is trying to cope.

Adar saves her the need to immediately answer.

He’s looking at the floor, at the tunnel dig from Orodruin.

Galadriel’s brain copes. And it does so the easiest way, repelling everything she has just heard, so her world may stay the same as before.

Galadriel is rejecting everything Adar has said, repeating out loud what she has always thought about the Orcs.

#adar #galadriel #drart says #trop breakdown #rings of power #adar rings of power #lotr rings of power #trop amazon #rop amazon #i just wanna die in a corner #this scene breaks me every time #joseph mawle #morfydd clark #mawle's acting is SOMETHING #i died cutting this scene to gifs #halbrand #charlie vickers #adar's hopeless opus that's what this scene is

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melodyofthevoid · 7 months

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Spotify Discovery Review

So I wanted to try something new and figured I'd dive into more music thoughts, and since I've been actually listening to my Spotify Discovery (I needed new music lol) so yeah.

Overall Rating: 13/30 that I really like and even sort of like, so not bad. Probably won't be saving a ton of these for later listening, a few might go into some character playlists at least so that's good. We'll see if any grow on me. Below are some of the standouts good, bad, and indifferent. A few songs I didn't include bc they're instrumentals that I didn't really have any thoughts on. Not even neutral thoughts.

Good

Dear Alice (rainy days)

Slow and dreamlike, it's not really a surprise that there's heavy Alice in Wonderland theming but even though there's not a ton of singing, I found myself enjoying the ride.

Femme Fatale

A fantastic beat, a combination of western and tango aesthetics, a fast paced ride that makes me want to groove. Love the flirty danger that drips off of every word, it's got a solid identity and doesn't feel like it's trying too hard to be "edgy" or anything.

YOUR HEAD'S ON FIRE

Louie Zhong is always a bop and his lyrical style is always a joy. Unconventional metaphors and fun little bits, a very groovy guitar line that makes you want to wiggle.

Blink of an eye

Halfy and Winks make DSMP songs, I'm aware of this, however I love their musical style and lyrics. Gives me heavy inspiration for my own story just with how vivid and story based their stuff is. The revolutionary spark in here is nice.

Invisible Dan Avidan has popped into my feeds and I’m not really complaining? I love the rock style/retro vibe that this one has going on, his vocals really sell it. A little bit chase scene a little bit breakdown but overall a good time.

The Moon and Stars

Good folk vibes, gets close to scratching the same itch that The Crane Wives do but not quite, which is still a good time for me. We'll see if this fits a character in future.

The Manic

A great character song, will be applying to my blorbos soon. The pushing away from someone you love because you know you'll hurt them eventually and can't take it. Very good stuff.

Dance While the Sky Crashes Down

Eyyy Jason Webly, I remember you from WTNV. A tango for the end of the world and honestly isn't that a mood? I love the lyrics, although it drags a smidge at the end. Maybe because of TMA I'm a little more inclined towards this.

A song whose title is in Japanese. It's from land of the lustrous and I cannot copy paste the title.

Very eerie, very atmospheric. I haven't watched the show in its entirety myself, but I know that it has horror and suspense interwoven in some of the back half, and the clanking bells and echoes really give the sensation of being watched. Of being on edge. Good stuff.

Break Your Cranck

An altogether inexplicable piece. It’s done on a hurdy gurdy which is already a plus but. It. It sounds like electronica crafted by pirate bees. With some Indian influence thrown in for flavor. Like a space punk pirate bazaar. Very atmospheric but also so so confusing. I love it.

Dance of the blood drunk

A balance of wild carnival and orchestral splendor, feels like an epic batter on a grand scale. The unsteady thrill of never knowing if you’re winning or not.

Neutral

Absence

I kinda forgot what this sounded like tbh.

How Dare You

Pretty good? No real feelings on it.

I was an island

Again with the good lyrics, but the instrumentation and singing are on the verge of being unlistenable? Like I can listen, and I could see myself putting this on a character playlist or two for sure.

Tavern crawl

A fun little bawdy medieval style song, Annapantsu kills it as expected, but bar songs/drinking songs aren’t really my vibe? But I could see myself grooving to this generally.

Brand new city

Mitski, which is good, but some of her stuff doesn't hit me as much as it does others, and this is one of those times. Not bad by any means, just not something I can see myself going back to.

Cold, cold, cold

Has a story to it, the grandiosity is nice especially near the end but the whole song together doesn’t quite capture me in the way that other artists in this space do. I could listen to it if I was in a particular mood but otherwise it’s not a stand out.

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

I do like the Jekyll and Hyde musical don't get me wrong but I'm not a huge fan of this one? It's mostly a song meant to establish the upper crust as mindless gossips and twits, the combination of the old Disney-musical style instrumentals and the rather vulgar (by Victorian standards) lyrics is funny but that's all its got.

Timekeeper's Heartbeat

An interesting case where I like the instrumentals and most of the lyrics but it fails to really coalesce into a song? There's bits that don't rhyme for no reason, it comes across like one of those English vocaloid covers that doesn't adjust for the context. If it is, I wouldn't be surprised.

Nah

Whiplash (Black Math) Don’t like listening to it, not much else to really say here.

Wish you were gay I’m aware this one is a bit of a darling in some of the animation meme circles but I don’t really care for the instrumentation or the lyrics. Unpleasant to listen to.

Two's a party Jazz/cabaret but there’s not really a depth to it imo. I find it a bit hard to listen to despite the singer being pretty good if a bit... too whispery. A combination of the lyrics and sudden trumpet jump scares ig.

Judas An interesting concept and premise, the dichotomy of a queer relationship contrasted with the religious imagery is layered but the vocal performance doesn’t really do it for me. Seems to want to be mountain goats but it’s a little too raw?

I DONT TRUST U ANYMORE Person with a guitar genre, valid feelings but vocal performance is a bit flat. Reminds me of blink 182 but with none of the energy.

#melody rambles #spotify discovery review #might also open up my inbox to song recommendations if y'all feel like throwing something in there

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twilightmalachite · 11 months

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Altered - Heaven and Hell 10

Author: Akira

Characters: Eichi, Hiyori, Nagisa

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Nagisa-kun, your innocence is your cutest charm, but the only ones who should find happiness in and be loved for being cute are babies and myself, okay?"

Season: Autumn

Location: Yumenosaki Academy Student Council Room

⚠️ This is an import from a unproofed Twitter Livetweet!

Hiyori: Anyways, what’s important is, what will we be doing now, Eichi-kun?

Eichi: What do you mean?

Hiyori: We fine made our spectacular debut the other day.

I mean, obviously we made our debut quite a long time ago, but that performance was like our first full-scale one.

Eichi: Yeah, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Our first live was when the Five Eccentrics canceled on us last minute.

Hiyori: It’s really only been a couple months. Still, I had gotten fed up with how everyone was appreciated except for me.

I’m glad that situation’s finally been reversed and I’m getting some public attention at long last.

I’ve been able to make Valkyrie, whom I’ve never liked, finally bow down at my feet, too. Yep yup, this is exactly what I deserve.

Ahh, feels great.

Eichi: Unlike what your words may suggest, your eyes aren’t smiling, Hiyori-kun.

We’ve known each other for a long time. You can try to play the part, but you can’t fool or deceive me.

Hiyori: I can say the same thing right back at you.

You may be able to fool stupid students, but you can’t fool me, Eichi-kun.

We’re causing a revolution for a great cause. In order to restore the corrupt and rapidly decaying Yumenosaki back to good condition, we will defeat the root of all evil, the Five Eccentrics.

Do you think we’d really believe such childish fiction?

Nagisa: …Eh, was that not the case?

Hiyori: Nagisa-kun, your innocence is your cutest charm, but the only ones who should find happiness in and be loved for being cute are babies and myself, okay?

Unlike you, ordinary people are filthy. They think evil thoughts that’d make you feel sick. All without acknowledging they’re evil.

A perfect representation of such people is that man absentmindedly standing right there, Tenshouin Eichi.

Eichi: That’s horrible. Don’t put weird things into Nagisa-kun’s head like that, you know he’ll believe anything you say.

It is not my intention to make my companions dislike me, so I’ll at least defend myself. I’ve misled and exaggerated, but I never said anything untrue.

The Five Eccentrics are the root of all evil. It’s not right that only ones valued and get anything are those with inborn talent such as themselves.

Geniuses like them make up a very small minority, less than 1% of the human race. The remaining 99%—the ordinary or rather, inferior human beings—wander around at the bottom, getting nothing.

In this ultra-disparate society, this sort of thing is commonplace.

I vow to change that. I will change this situation, so that even that “ordinary 99%, below them” can taste the fruits of paradise that only the 1% of geniuses may taste.

Let’s lower the price of these fruits of happiness and turn it into a commodity of the world. Let’s mass produce it in factories, increase its distribution, and sell cheaply!

That way, everyone else will have tasted it.

Originally, this should have been done by the privileged 1% who had monopolized it all.

However, they’ve neglected to. Instead, as long as they have their peace and happiness, they’ve ignored the remaining 99%’s suffering.

That is their sin.

I will balance the books. Let’s redistribute the wealth and happiness by cutting those who’ve the monopoly out.

By defeating the Five Eccentrics, let’s take everything they’ve taken away from us back.

With fine being the majority, we’ll redistribute everything back to our “followers”—back into the world.

We’ll take from the pockets of the wealthy 1%, and give it to the less fortunate 99%.

That is what justice is, about bringing as much happiness as you can to the most amount of people possible.

Do you have any objections?

← prev | story directory | next →

#altered #eichi tenshouin #event #translation #nagisa ran #hiyori tomoe

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inventors-fair · 1 year

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Satisfied and Satisfactory: Runners-up! ~

Our runners-up this week are @just--a--penguin, @little-red-rabbit, and @snugz!

@just--a--penguin — Kiora’s Daring

Minor Aftermath spoilers, I guess, but it doesn’t super matter. Unless we aren’t talking about that. First order of business is that this card’s super well balanced and a great rare to throw down. On turn four, your previous creatures can perchance get some evasive action in, especially if you have an awesome seafarer like a Welkin Tern or even a little trampler. The ramp is awesome and the draw is awesome. Turn eight, if you’ve got all your drops, you can just put this down and basically get a free 8/8 for four mana but with the time investment already put in. Not gonna lie: as crazy as that it, I really like how you balanced that!

The first big edit is the trigger wording. “At the beginning of combat on your turn, choose target creature you control. Until end of turn, it gains...” should be the proper wording, IMO, because you want the end of the quoted ability to have a period. That’s the precedent for all other abilities worded like this, although none quite as specific as this one for precedent, unfortunately. The second small non-edit is just that this card’s good for its mechanics and I do want to play it. I guess I’m just not excited for the flavor portion? I don’t have to be for this to be a good card, and don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a 100% flavor-only contest. Maybe I just don’t get Kiora as a character. Still, this feels like a card where the mechanics matter more, and I do like them enough for it to be here.

@little-red-rabbit — Desire

And here we are, Incarnation 2: Revengeance! I’ll be honest: this card might be a runner-up, but it’s the one I feel with the absolute most daring mechanics. “It comes under your control tapped and attacking.” That’s so cool! And I just had to check the comprehensive rules about it... Darn it. Okay, so, I really thought this was going to work, and unless there’s a comprehensive rules change, 506.4 says that a creature is removed from combat if its controller changes. Does that affect this card? Prrrrrobably. Possibly. I honestly don’t know because there’s never been precedent quite like this before. So you know what, I’m going to change my suggestions and say instead that this card is ambitious enough for a potential comprehensive rules change if an effect like this got printed!

Wow. This rarely happens, and it’s super cool. Thanks for making me delve a little into rules effects! So: how would we make this work with the CompRules as it stands? Perhaps make it a tap ability, a beginning of combat trigger, or even a pie-bending exile-return effect? There are a few ways to go about it. Fading is an interesting choice, but it makes sense here. I don’t know if we’ll see fading again in Standard, but as a resource, I would check out Mark Rosewater’s “Storm Scale” articles. I’m not sure where Fading stands, heh.

Just for polish, here are a couple minor edits:

You gave this card fading 2, but put “3” in the reminder text. Whoops! Things get switched in editing, fair enough.

I believe this should be “Whenever Desire attacks,” not “when,” since it can happen repeatedly.

Flavor text is decent! I think you can take away the quotes, take out the “c” in “satisfied,” and switch “it’s” to “its.” Spelling aside, it reads really well, actually.

@snugz — Mourning Mage

And here we are back to the grimdark. Well, ish! What I really like about the flavor angle here is the fact that the flavor text emphasizes how this character is channeling their mourning, how we embark upon our passions, not necessarily through logic, but through the energy of grief. Which is...pretty messed up, actually. I like it. The quote should probably be in quotation marks, being a quote. Really neat overall, though, and I guess they found a cure based on that activated ability!

Mechanics-wise, yeah, this card’s rad as hell. I think that having kicker and investigate as two potentially major themes (or at least two themes with some overlap) is asking a bit, unless you want to imply that investigation is minor, as it was in something like the most recent Innistrad block. Great wording on that first ability, BTW; DMU’s pseudomultikicker was really fun and I’m curious about how it would come back here. Backwards compatibility is important. Regardless, clue generation can come about in a few ways, and as a rare midrangey kind of card, I like it a lot! You’ve got a build-around-me rare that someone’s probably gonna have fun with and a flavored ambition to top it off. Still asking a lot of implications, but I’m sure it would play fine.

I'm writing this early enough to need food before doing more commentary, but it's being written! See y'all soon.

@abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #runners up #commentary #wanting flavor contest #inventor's fair

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judgeanon · 1 year

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Plastic Skies - Model 6: Saab Draken

Been a while, huh? To be completely honest, it hasn’t actually been that long since the last model, but I held up on writing this until after Christmas for no particular reason.

For those who haven’t seen these, this is my ongoing journal of getting back into building aircraft model kits, a hobby that I tried out for a couple of years when I was a kid but never really got into. And that’s part of why this particular one is at least a little important.

I like the Saab Draken quite a bit. Developed right after WWII as a supersonic fighter-interceptor and built in the early years of the Cold War, the Draken was able to reach speeds of Mach 2 and is also the first aircraft capable of doing the Cobra Maneuver, one of those aviation things that looks like someone hacked real life:

(It’s kinda funny that the plane’s name, “Draken”, can mean either “Dragon” or “Kite”)

I also love its general shape, its double delta wings and wide body making it look more like a starfighter than an airplane. But the main reason why I like the Draken is because it was one of the first model kits my brother built when we were kids. Which makes it one of the very first model kits I’d ever seen. So when I went looking for a 1/72 scale kit to finally move away from the tiny 1/144′s that I’d been focusing so much on, this very generously-priced Draken caught my eye right away. It was pretty much the same price as the Tomcat and Flanker, plus it gave me an opportunity to pait camouflage again, so after a quick trip to a new shop it was mine.

I was happy to see that I had all the tools I needed for this build except for some blue paint. The shop I bought it from didn’t have it, so I took at as an opportunity to go to another one and also pick up a few extras I’d been looking at. Namely, a can of brush cleaner and a rotating platform with elevated hooks to paint smaller parts which I... actually didn’t get much use out of and kinda regret. But it might be useful someday!

The build itself was surprisingly pleasant. After all these models, I’m happy to see I’ve grown an eye for getting the pieces properly glued and balanced, so no more crooked tailfins or wings. Or, well, not as crooked as in previous attempts.

I’m also pretty happy with the paintjob I gave this old gal. It’s a bit thicker than in the reference pictures, but the extra space and a bit more care when thinning the paints made it so the brush strokes aren’t quite as visible as in other models, which was my main goal here. Also, getting the silver stripes required a bit of masking tape use which also went a lot better than other times.

Likewise, I’m pleased with how the landing gears came out. The frontal one is still a bit crooked and the gates aren’t exactly right to the original plane, but the improvement is there. Which is always one of the most encouraging things with any hobby or activity: watching you get better at it. Overall, I was having a nice, relaxing time with my Draken, watching it quickly take shape while also enjoying the process. Painting in particular was really fun and rewarding. It didn’t escape my attention that I was, in a way, one-upping my brother. He never painted his Draken, after all. Although while I was working on this, I did unlock a very, veeery vague memory of one of us attempting to paint at least one kit and being very disappointed at the results. I can’t remember which one of us or what kit but the image was still there, hazy in my mind. I should ask him someday.

So yeah, a good time was had by all rrright up until the decals came out. Turns out Mistercraft’s decals are somehow both tough and fragile. Even after dunking them a long time in water, the only thing that could get them out of the sheet were my fingers, which imediately opened up a whole can of problems which you can already see in the pic above if you look closely enough.

The decal mishaps meant two things: first, that I decided to skip on the big yellow dragon/swordfish decal that would’ve otherwise covered most of the plane’s fuselage. And two, that I was gonna have to weather at least a bit of it to give it a worn-out look. If only to justify the busted up decals.

The weathering job ended up being once of the nicest parts of the model somehow. Thanks to the extra surface to work with, I was able to really fine-tune the sludge wash into something that looks pretty good to my eye. I didn’t do the same for the top of the plane, though that’s mostly because I’m saving up to buy some proper panel liners that will most likely give me a much better look than anything this wash could do.

Speaking of the top, one thing I did for this Draken that I haven’t done for any other plane so far was paint the canopy. I took an extremely fine brush to it, and while it was pretty intimidating at first, I was able to get it painted pretty alright and without having to clean it or use thinners. It’s still a bit gooey and that’s my fault for not using masking tape, but for a first experience, it was still quite nice.

After that, all that was left was give it a couple coats of matte varnish, and the Draken was ready. The combination of a decent enough paintjob and the nostalgic value meant I was quick to show it off to everyone and their dog, who were pretty impressed with it. So the jump up in scale ended up being a real success, in more than one ways. Not only did it serve me a sweet slice of circularity and was a mostly comfortable build: the best part of making this Draken was the confidence it left me with.

I know I’m not a huge pro and I’m sure I’m reaching the ceiling of my personal skills and/or the level of detail I care to get into, but if this is as good as I can make a model, I feel pretty satisfied. Content. And more importantly, I finally feel ready to tackle the Final Boss of this whole endeavor. The model that I desperately want to Get Right. The model that will be, if everything goes well, the first thing I build in 2023.

I’m very, very excited for it.

#My stuff #Hobbies #Journals #Good ol' Swedish planes #I'd like to build a Gripen too someday #They're nice planes Harold #Also #Man #Europe sure seems to love their delta wing planes huh?#Wonder what's up with that

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homenecromancer · 1 month

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I’m absolutely not getting into it because I no longer have college-student levels of energy to write posts all day, but I sometimes find myself in the Dune tag looking wistfully at a post like. Hey. Nice thoughts, I appreciate your willingness to engage with a text on a deeper level. However. Before we can engage on the same plane, you gotta go read Frank Herbert’s Wikipedia page and at least one science fiction story by Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, or Robert Heinlein. Then come back and we can talk.

There are reasons for those selections, of course.

Frank Herbert was a very specific type of guy that I feel like is almost extinct today — firmly, solidly a Republican, but also into nature conservation and ecology. I’m having trouble articulating the specifics, but these are the kind of guys who are comfortable acknowledging “yeah, we need to take care of the environment, because I want my grandkids to be able to hunt and fish like I did”. I don’t think Frank Herbert was this way himself, but this is the type of guy who was still trying to live out the white American myth of the frontier in the 20th century. That type of person still exists, but, like. The modern tradwife who wants to retvrn probably believes that government could be an OK thing as long as her kind of people — Christian nationalists, not to be too plain about it — were in charge. Herbert was a “don’t trust the government, Watergate helped make that more obvious” guy who didn’t think we should be in Vietnam. Point being: do not mistake Frank Herbert’s concern for environmental balance as something that’s coming from a left-wing point of view.

And the science fiction reading is because — after 60 years, a lot of science fiction is in some way responding to Dune. In the same way, Dune is responding to its own early-1960s zeitgeist — the writers I’ve named enjoy enough lingering popularity that it wouldn’t be hard to find work of theirs to sample. Dune presents something within spec for science fiction of its time: a teenage protagonist, who has special abilities that put him above his peers, travels to a new planet, finds himself in danger, meets a native girl, rises in the esteem of her people, and eventually gets his revenge by/while gaining great power.

And the whole time Frank Herbert is looking the reader in the eye and going “you do understand that this is bad, right”. There’s a whole chapter where one character effectively turns to the reader and says as much. “No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a Hero.” Dune Messiah leans on this a bit more, in a curious way — Dune definitely doesn’t avoid showing violence, and quite a lot of it. But it does end by telling the reader that what comes next is war on a galactic scale, war on the kind of scale other science fiction books aren’t shy of showing.

When we pick up after twelve years of holy war, Dune Messiah refuses to do more than allude to the events of that war. You can go read Starship Troopers if you want to see interstellar war being fought. Herbert’s here to rub the reader’s nose in that interest in blood-and-guts, and to follow the implications of his hero’s actions. You’re here because Paul became Emperor, and you want to see your guy rewarded for his deeds? Well, the book starts with a character saying this, to put it in the reader’s mind before they go on: “…Paul Atreides lost something essential to his humanity before he could become Muad’Dib.” [This is an slightly edited quote: in context, the speaker is describing the views of another character. What matters is that the thought is put before the reader.]

You can be the hero of that Robert Heinlein novel, but the cost will be heavy. For everyone.

I was not there in December 1963 when the first part of “Dune World” was published in the pages of Analog. But the more that I learn about the world that surrounded Frank Herbert as he wrote, the more I feel I understand about his work. It’s fitting that Dune begins with Irulan taking pains to place her subject in his time and place; you get more out of Dune by doing the same with it.

#marlowe talks dune #also there are ppl in the tag who are clearly still in college or like grad school #i am completely self-taught in analyzing texts AND have not done so for a grade in five years #i’m rusty at best. we’re not gonna be on the same rhetorical level #dune

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catflowerqueen · 1 year

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It looks like Moon’s branch of the family is setting up some pretty interesting checks and balances, which might mean that this deal won’t work out quite so terribly as we all assumed… though still with a lot more death involved than Moon is likely to be happy with. Especially give how tired he still seemed today.

Like… KC not killing the trashcan guy seems to imply that he is willing to stick with his agreement to only go after “evil” people—since presumably what stayed his hand there was not knowing anything about the guy. Other than that he is baffling and might not actually be able to die?—and that also speaks volumes in that he probably isn’t actually lying or liable to turn on anyone he considers family without provocation. And everyone can bring something to the table and have at least one ally, even if there is mistrust.

As long as KC doesn’t harm Sun (and presumably Monty and Lunar—though I am curious about which branch of the tree KC considers to be Lunar’s, and whether he also considers them to be a son like Bloodmoon), the Moon won’t try to fight back—which would at the very least hinder KC’s movements slightly, and might also cause him to break any cover or disguise that Moon could provide (especially in terms of magic, which KC might not know/be able to concentrate on enough to perform). Bloodmoon is unlikely to hurt Moon directly both because KC told them not to and because harming Moon would harm KC—who they are so adorably attached to and have really leaned into the role of his kids. And by the same token they aren’t likely to overtly hurt Sun either beyond causing more general mischief like they’ve already been doing. And Eclipse is in a bind and might be willing to be more conciliatory toward Moon simply because he is pretty much the only other sane and stable animatronic of the bunch and might be willing to put his animosity with Eclipse aside at least momentarily if their goals align.

On Bloodmoon’s end, they already adore KC and thus are more willing to do as he asks by default, especially because most of what he asks aligns with their own desires. At the same time, they are willing to keep Eclipse’s words in mind and be cautions and don’t seem to have any massive issues with getting KC if he does one day cross a line. They hate Eclipse, but won’t kill him because KC said no and they value his deal more—and do find Eclipse useful in certain situations. And they honestly don’t really seem to have that much of a problem with Moon? Sure they were game for killing him, but that’s more because they just generally like chaos more than it being anything actually personal. Same for Sun and finding him annoying, really.

Eclipse is just in it to save his own skin and further his own goals, but the only one of the bunch that actually seems to like him a modicum is KC—who still seems to find him annoying even then—because he considers him his kid, so while he can bide his time the only one who might listen to him is Moon. And, honestly, given what Lord Eclipse was up to, he probably wouldn’t object too harshly to being on “evil people look out” duty, especially if he’s the one getting to pick the targets.

And KC basically just wants a big happy family with his kids and brother. He’ll stop his kids from turning on each other, and seems to want to bring Moon into the fold, too, even if he doesn’t like his more “peaceful” methods (though his words about Moon just “pretending” does make me think he considers himself and Moon to be more similar than Moon wants to admit—and the high value both of them put on family does give that idea some merit), but I get the feeling he won’t hesitate to attack or mete out punishment if he thinks the need calls for it.

My only worry is where Lunar would fall on the scale. In terms of morality, Lunar’s is still a bit whacky—they definitely still look to Sun and Moon for what is considered “good,” and while they to do things that would set good examples for the kids (whom they adore), they also don’t seem to have much of a problem with bending or breaking rules? Like… they know what and when things are violent, and did even back when they were still with Eclipse, but just didn’t necessarily seem to care. They like chaos just as much as the rest of the Moon branch does and aren’t averse to things like violence even if they don’t usually participate in it themself. And even though they hate Eclipse, they do still have tenuous ties with Bloodmoon and considers Moon to be their brother. And if KC actually approached them again and clarified that why they didn’t want Monty to take them was due to considering them family—another child of his, most likely—then I think they would be willing to accept the label even if they didn’t actually want to join in on the “bonding activities.” But at the same time… KC hasn’t actually mentioned them at all, and might consider them to be part of the Sun branch—and even though KC acknowledges that Moon considers Sun his brother, KC’s tone pretty heavily implied that he didn’t see Sun as his brother as well. Which isn’t all that great for Lunar.

Though it still wouldn’t be smart of KC to try anything, since hurting Lunar would mean an immediate retaliation from Moon, the same way as would happen if he tried to hurt Sun.

…Point is, if Bloodmoon doesn’t go off the rails, then this deal might actually be pretty functional.

As to the aftermath and what we can expect from the future—I hope the reunion with Sun, Lunar, and Monty goes well. At this point Moon still likely thinks Sun hates him and was putting up a façade, and he needs to hear the truth from the real Sun as well as ascertain Lunar’s safety. And I feel like Moon is going to insist that there be some safeguards put up to protect his brothers, because he is likely going to be understandably wary about the possibility of KC or the others hurting them even despite the deal. I could see Moon suggesting that he move out, even, just to make things extra safe for the two of them. Or possibly ask after some of Monty’s contingencies. Which would be understandable, but very sad.

I really do hope they come up with a solution soon. Because this whole thing is just bringing up Moon’s trauma once again.

On a more positive note, though, the computer isn’t mad at him—which is good, since that’s one of the things I was worried about. It even wished him luck at the end, which was great.

#SAMS #sun and moon show #fnaf security breach

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