Moon's FR Hell

FR: https://www1.flightrising.com/clan-profile/378531

[opal-owl-flight]

Same age...

Me writing the idiot boy saga made me realize how fucked up the agents are again 😭😭 like augh their struggles wouldve been abt relationships and league stuff. Not. The entire damn world on their shoulders.

[sloppystyle]

[binah-beloved]

you wake when the moon is still high. silver piercing the violet night, a bitter film on your tongue. foul, raspy. water. you need water, throat parched and painful. the window creaks. a breeze brushing over your face in a whisper. it's cold. yet the blankets remain warm, heavy cotton and down. tempting you to remain. to melt beneath the covers and lose yourself to dreams. waking with a sore, scratchy voice in the morning. you force your eyes open with a grumble. sitting up, squinting in the moonlight. water. that is your goal. a sip of ice and rain, before curling up in bed once more. your legs swing over the edge, prickling from the sudden chill.

an arm tightens around your waist. Binah stirs, obsidian gaze flickering open. watching you silently, hair splayed across the pillow. turning your sheets black and gold, an angler's lure beneath the sea. her brows pinch. still barely conscious, yet registering your soft warmth slipping from her grasp.

"Don't."

she shifts closer, pressing her forehead against your spine. "Stay. Do not leave again."

again. again. her sleep riddled with fragmented memories, your blood painting her hands. Binah gently tugs you back down. lacing her fingers with yours, cheek resting in your hair. safe. here, you're safe. with her. even if the nightmares taunt her, caging her in that dreaded facility. the key cradled in her grasp. she kisses the top of your head, and your muscles gradually unknot with a quiet mumble. going slack against her, perfectly sweet.

perhaps you'll make tea tonight. something to soothe the nerves of even the most shaken of Arbiters and Librarians.

[creepymutelilbugger]

i can't imagine a world in which i haven't put this video on my page

[inkary]

"it's time to surface, (unintelligible, possibly "back to people), the vacation is over. oh blyat, a grenade. what sort of moron keeps the...-boom-"

[spainy-spoon]

Can't help but appreciate how well the body language translates through VR.

The frantic head turning while looking for a place to stash the grenade, the double take as they realize the drawer they chose was FULL of grenades, and the "WTF" hand gesture as they point in disbelief at the drawer full of grenades? Chef's kiss.

[etrianodysseyobsession-hd-deact]

POV you’re Wile E Coyote

[ophilosoraptoro]

No translation neccessary

[creepymutelilbugger]

i can't imagine a world in which i haven't put this video on my page

[inkary]

"it's time to surface, (unintelligible, possibly "back to people), the vacation is over. oh blyat, a grenade. what sort of moron keeps the...-boom-"

[spainy-spoon]

Can't help but appreciate how well the body language translates through VR.

The frantic head turning while looking for a place to stash the grenade, the double take as they realize the drawer they chose was FULL of grenades, and the "WTF" hand gesture as they point in disbelief at the drawer full of grenades? Chef's kiss.

[etrianodysseyobsession-hd-deact]

POV you’re Wile E Coyote

[ophilosoraptoro]

No translation neccessary

[binah-beloved]

stressed. Queequeg hugging you tightly and calling you beautiful with that broad grin of hers, snuggling your cheeks together as she laughs. goodnight.

[opal-owl-flight]

IS IT TOO LATE FOR ARTFIGHT/j

Had to make a ref for the damn idiot boy. Ill see if I can make one for Elio…

He is soo. augh. Hes been taking over my brain for the past few weeks and IDK WHY!! HES SO SO PATHETIC…..head over heels over someone constantly and he doesnt know what to do! Besides fight for them, or follow them to the ends of the earth like a dog. He sure did that with Kayoss and look where that got him

He follows ppl he views as strong, hoping hed become like them. Elio is different, though…he doesnt know why he likes him this much, or why he feels so inadequate next to him. Hes a nobody in the leagues. Hes strong, but not as strong as himself. So why is Elio consuming his thoughts?

God hes so so full of repressed emotions.

[binah-beloved]

Harpy (bird people?) Binah and reader courting eachother by flying and performing tricks with each other in the sky and dancing with each other

she's all elegant feathers. long, glossy plumes, black as night and dipped in gold. refined, stunning. talons dripping with blood. her cavernous nest decorated with bones, skulls and ribcages from her recent victims. a cold, solitary bird, wings etched with faint runes and eyes gleaming obsidian in the dark. yet she favors you. someone smaller, slightly scruffy. adorning your own nest with your down, all soft and colorful, little patches of vibrancy against the cliffside. you're weaker than her. easily crushed beneath her claws, like all the others who dared disturb her. she should tear the skin from your wings for intruding- force you to leave, or die by her hand.

so why does she let you stay? watching you from afar, her gaze trained on that distant smudge of color. Binah gathers handfuls of her favorite flower- tiny yellow blooms, stubbornly growing in wind and rain and sun. bringing them to you in a single flap of her wings. ah, how she loves seeing the delighted puff of your feathers. the golden petals dotting your hair and plumage as she carefully slides a few choice flowers behind your ears. her talons lace with yours, slowly. holding you firm and sweeping you into a dance, wings flaring out behind her. she leads the first steps. an offering. an invitation. the stiffness in her spine eases when you match her movements, swaying in the breeze. Binah's claws tighten, shifting towards your waist and dipping you down until your head nearly brushes the ground. how lovely it would be, she muses. to adorn your neck in the gold she had collected over the years, to drape strings of pearls over your shoulders, slip jeweled bracelets onto your arms. to preen your coat, smoothing out each quill one by one until they shone like morning dew.

no. not yet. she must be slow. she must be gentle. Binah croons softly, a melodic thrum in her throat. brushing her wings against your own with a whisper of down. for now, she leaves you with a feather. one of her favorites, near the base of her wings. her lips brush the back of your hand- only once- before taking flight without a word, heart thrumming in her chest.

it smells faintly of black tea and rain, smooth as silk. taking up residence behind your ear, right near the flowers as you quietly gaze up at the stars. wondering and hoping to see her wings blotting out their light once more.

[bunnysaige]

uhmmm i think bunnies are. ooby glooby...

[binah-beloved]

you go to the Library rooftop with Binah, on clear nights. she leads you up the unending stairs, past the Floor of Religion and the Floor of General Works. a few others call out to her; beckon her closer- Binah ignores them. squeezing your hand and thumbing gently over your knuckles. they're not important. their loud voices, hands always full of more papers to push upon you. no. no more. not for tonight. she nudges you forward, pushing the door open with her shoulder and the faintest of smiles.

countless stars twinkle against the night sky, brilliant arrays of cheerful light. you gasp, staring up. up towards the clouds, towards the familiar constellations. you've missed them. it's been far too long, trapped in that cold facility. Binah watches you in silence, obsidian gaze softly gleaming in the night. slowly shifting your head until it leans against her shoulder. her fingers are curled. tightly knit together. they slowly unravel, and a tiny firefly blinks against her palm as she brings it up for you to see, its kin winking happily within the garden you planted together. illuminating your features, an awed glow written across your face. all for you. all to see that beautiful smile, once more.

the one brighter than any star in the cosmos.

[askthescarfedsilhouette]

Scarfy?! How did you get inside my Nest in SKY?

Well, anyway, what do you think? It has a nice rooftop terrace, right? 🐯 💜

(I have zero idea how I keep ending up in different places- but I have to say, your nest is absolutely awesome!!! I love your plushies and knickknacks so much! And the terrace has such a beautiful and relaxing view. I have to say, 10 out of 10~)

@anarchyzorath

[goth-queen]

[binah-beloved]

What would Binah do if we injured ourselves? Like it could be in the reception or just on accident, or another librarian attacked us...

I gotta know 👀👀

if you're wounded by someone tangible, Binah slowly tilts her head. watching the unlucky Guest or Librarian with a serenely sadistic smile. they shall be dealt with. whether now or later depends on who they are. a Guest. a squirming maggot, crushed beneath her shoe. naught but a bloody stain surrounding a new book for the shelves. she ignores it. fingers tracing over your features with a hum. silent, satisfied. a splash of red stains her cheek, dotting her fingers. her smile widens. just barely. onyx eyes dancing with smug glee as she treats your injuries. yes, praise her. compliment her technique, kiss her scarred knuckles, cup her face in your hands. she leans into your touch, the battle fading from her mind. nothing there, except you and her. bloody and bruised, triumphantly carrying a new stack of books.

a nick or a bruise from tripping, and her fingers wrap around your wrist. examining the injury with a sharp gaze, grazing the skin with a mere whisper. she sighs. so clumsy at times. even now, after so many years. her lips press gently over the wound, wrapping it in gauze and tucking you closer, somewhere warm and soft and apart from the world. she knows you will heal. the Light will bring you back better than ever. yet her heart thumps at the sight of your sheepish smile, apologies falling easy as raindrops. ah. so sweet, so kind. you still don't see your own brilliance. no matter. Binah will just remind you, peppering the bandages with tiny kisses and pressing her cheek to your hair.

it will happen again. it always does, one of few remaining cycles. again and again, and again, she will be there to soothe your pain.

[bunnysaige]

believe in the Miku who believes in you!

[alteredpanel]

spent some of today after finishing a bigger project journaling and making some goals for the month but it did result in somethng kind of funny so

[alteredpanel]

spent some of today after finishing a bigger project journaling and making some goals for the month but it did result in somethng kind of funny so

[binah-beloved]

Enough of S/O birthdays. Now it's the turn of Binah! and what better gift is there to give her than a marriage proposal?

Binah does not often celebrate. a birthday was not something important within the Head- merely another day of the week, with further assignments and collections. it passes by. she forgets. again and again. it's difficult to remember, with a mind so fragmented and scarred. no light, no sun. nothing but the cold alarms of the facility, clock arms steadily ticking away. yet you still ask, still mark the worn little calendar you keep next to your bed. bringing her tiny gifts you manage to find scattered about- flowers somehow growing through cracks in the walls, little paper stars and birds you folded, any packets of tea you manage to smuggle in. something different every cycle. they line her desk in silent delight, bits of joy in such a hopeless existence.

the Library is brighter. sunlight spilling through the windows, illuminating the Floor of Philosophy in pale gold. she can summon anything, now. all the tea and blossoms she desires. yet you still celebrate. bringing her trinkets, even cake. homemade, with all the ingredients at your fingertips. it's chocolate. it always is. dark, rich, smatterings of berry in between. she hums, eyeing the small box you slide over. her fingers twitch. setting her fork down and deftly untying the bow. a trio of birds cradled within, perfectly painted to resemble the Abnormalities that roam her floor. one long, one small, one large- and the tallest glints, something winking about its neck.

her onyx eyes widen. breath catching in her throat. Binah holds the ring between two fingers, the band an elegant, glimmering filigree. her gaze flits back to you- smiling sheepishly, hopeful, oddly nervous- and her heart thumps painfully, adoringly, in her chest.

Arbiters do not believe in love.

hah.

such a silly lie that was, in the end.