#talon corporation

[mr-camhed]

The Spangler Heavy Industries Model 65 Super Heavy Breakthrough Tank, also known as the Persuader Tank, is a prototype Super Heavy Breakthrough Tank designed and manufactured by Spangler Heavy Industries for the Brabazonian Federal Army in the later years of the Second Atlantide War.

It was made as both side of war slows down and fortifies against each other's attack instead of the more assault and counterassault focused battles with lighter, faster strategies and equipments before the grueling siege of Mayne where the Brabazonian Industrial center beaten back several waves of Atlantide raids with heavy fortification and firepower, and even though the Federal Army's newer heavy artillery, tanks, bomber aircrafts and warships are sufficient for the Federal military's counteroffence against Atlantide fortifications, the army believed that their current main tank, the Stepper Hunter Type 6 medium tank(a design combination between US T14 Heavy tank, Canadian Ram tank and Argentinian DL-43 Nahuel tank) and National Machinery model 33 Union heavy tanks(a combination between Hungarian 44M Tas, soviet T-43 and German Tiger tanks), is insufficient in the fear factor against atlantide forces in comparison to the Navy's new Federation class super Battleships(based on Montana-Class, HMS Devastation in WOWS and Japanese A150 Class Battleships), Homeland class fast battleship(based on Iowa-class, Bismarck-class and Vanguard-class battleship) and Blizton class Aircraft Carriers(supercarrier/battlecarriers based on Federation class Battleship hulls) and the Air Force's Federation avionics Retaliatior 400 six propeller heavy bomber(based on Boeing B-54 And Junker Ju 390 Amerikabomber), and Collins Model 44 Bulwark quad jet fast Bombers(based on Arado Ar 234 Blitz and North American B-45 Tornado), while the high casualty rate of the Army's soldiers and equipment due to Atlantide forces' zealous and resilience despite their inferiority in ranged weaponry that also tipped the public opinion against their favor.

And with the Persuader tank, they're looking to build a rolling bunker with an extremely powerful 203 milimetre howitzer as the main gun to punch through enemy fortifications, and multiple smaller but still rather effective auxiliary Guns, including a 88mm anti tank gun mounted in the front of the hull to the right of the driver's seat, two 90mm infantry support gun in the sponsons in both sides of the tanks, and dual 20mm autocannons that serves as the coaxial and hatch mounted gun that can provide cover fire for accompanying units and deterrent against aerial enemies. Its heavy weight and armor which would reach the thickness of 250 milimetres would allow it to plow through enemy defensive measures and laugh at enemy fire. It was also powered by an upscaled version of their 16 Litre diesel V16 engine used in regular tanks, which is now at the displacement level of 36 Litres and supercharged, making 1800 kilowatts of power, which was transmitted to the sprocket wheels via a novel electric drive system to power a pair of 1.5m width twin tracks to dissipate the weight and increase grip on loose surfaces such as gravel and mud, allowing it to achieve a considerably high top speed. The 20 meter long, 8 meter wide(10 meter counting the sponsons that housed the 90mm guns) and 4.5 meter tall 200 ton metal behemoth was manned by a crew of twelve, including a commander, four gunners and loaders for the four guns each, a driver, an observer who also serves as a mechanic, and a radio operator that also serves as an observer.

However, the prototype of the tank was found to be rather unsatisfactory. It was still rather slow, the massive size makes it an easy target, the massive weight means that it can't go over many bridges, be transported by rail or roll on paved surfaces without completely tilling it, and the tank would shake extremely violently when going over uneven surface which makes the crew almost impossible to operate the vehicle, and the 88mm gun would be easily damaged when breaking through enemy defense due to a lot of its barrel sticking out and often taking the brunt of whatever it hit. Thus, the Persuader tank was rejected by the Federal Army, its role was replaced by Maynesburg Heavy Machinery's famous and perennial Minister series heavy main battle tanks(based on IS Series and T29/T30/T32/T34/M26 Pershing heavy tanks), And with the war also prematurely ended after the sinking of the floating city of Atlantide, the development on Persuader Tank and a "tank destroyer" variant (based on T28 Super Heavy tank destroyer and is basically a large armored dome on tracks) were both halted and the Persuader tank was left in a museum's storage space while the "tank destroyer"'s unfinished chassis was dismantled and scrapped.

However, some 40 years later, while Talon Corporation is pitching sales of the Federation's surplus military equipments to the nations of the New Land, one of the most frantically willing customers, a fascist Monarchy in possession of vast frozen arctic and subarctic tundra, finds many of their heavy and superheavy tanks, while effective and deadly in combat against most of other forces of the new land, was somewhat lacking in the factor of intimidation due to their "compact" size in comparison to the difference of light and heavy equipment of other services such as the Navy and the Air force(where Talon Corporation assisted them in construction of massive rigid airships with the firepower, defense capability and the aircraft carrying capacity of of Two Federation class battleships and a Blizton class SuperCarrier combined), as most super heavy tanks were barely one and half times the size of the more advanced Centaur(Similar to the EE-T1 Osorio main battle tank and French AMX-30/40 MainBattle tank) and TBT-3(based on the Vickers Main Battle Tank series, Italian Ariete Main battle tank and South African Olifant Main Battle Tank) Main Battle Tanks and barely larger than the Ferma-Chandler Heavy Main Battle tank(a combination between the Conqueror Heavy tank, M103 Heavy tank, T-95 Main battle tank and M1 abrams series Main Battle tank) used by Talon Corporation Mercenaries. And without missing a beat, the sales representative of Talon Corporation produced a picture of the Persuader tank in comparison of a Minister-9 heavy MBT(the final model of the Minister series, based on the T-10/IS-8, M103 And M46 Patton, and was in active service as late as early black tide crisis), which almost immediately caught the eye of the Imperial Nobilitys' eye, and they immediately ordered one to be sent to the Imperial territory for evaluation. And to better sell the tank, the company that had acquired Spangler, Utility Automotive Commercial(UAC, commercial subsidiary of the Brabazonian automotive Juggernaut Utility Automotive/UA) set out to vastly improve and modernize the Persuader Tank. They reinforced the structure and armour of the tank with stronger materials and internals, the supercharged V16 diesel Engine was replaced with a pair of 18 liter twincharger 8 cylinder engines driving the sprockets together, making over twice the power, and that can even potentially be replaced with a miniature Magnussen Reactor to make it even more powerful, the suspension were improved to make the cabin more stable, and the 88mm anti tank gun is now capable of retracting back into the hull when the vehicle is rolling through obstacles, and the equipments were also all upgraded and thus better suits the needs. The improved Persuader tank was almost immediately loved by the Imperial Nobility and the Tsar, and they ordered it without hesitation. It's yet unknown if any more Persuader tank were being manufactured or where they were manufacturing them, though there had been many claims of these super heavy vehicle spotted in different places.

[mr-camhed]

I wrote a man who truly treats his half brother as family despite the brother was born by his birthmother sexually assaulting his father while the man was in a coma, saved the country from bankrupting themselves with another war, and was trying to lead the country on a path where they can thrive by developing away from militarism, yet he was shot in the back by said brother for his political and personal nefarious goal and the people cheered at his death because of the lies his brother had spreaded against him.

People should make more doomed by narratives siblings relationship.

Like with lovers you can just sever it and not have it related to you ever again but with siblings how could you?

You grow up with them you raise them or they raised you you both know how unforgiving the world is to both of you? You would die for them but will hate them for doing the same and yet none of you would regret it and both of you know it. They could be the person you loath the most and miss the most cause you still remember how they sneaked a candy into your hands. You can sever the tie but you can never look away at what you've lost, at whom you've lost because fate doesn't allow you to be together, eating dinners in quiet peace, if only there's another life, another time, where i can make you another plate of pancakes i would im sorry im sorry im sorry —

[miatressforsissy]

My favorite activities are forced feminization,humiliation plays,Sensation play ,Bondage,strap/popper play ,sissy dress up ,Role play ,NT&CBT,corporal,medical ,intro for beginners and Behavior modification

[stone-cold-groove]

The Northrop T-38 Talon.

[nataliedecorsair]

I put Pticenoga/Hedwig and Vaughn into Cyberpunk 2077, a crossover that nobody expected, even me

He's an ex-Corporate obviously, and she's a Nomad; though she'd use something flying instead of a car or a bike, if it was possible. And some wings & talons implants, but I don't have it in my game x)

Borderlands in-game edit is here

[mr-camhed]

That's 100% going to fit Talon Corporation's story because they're literally the white glove of the military and military industrial complex

Writing prompt: The seven children of prophecy have been born. With their miraculous gifts, they will bring about an age of peace and prosperity once they come of age.

Which would be a huge hit to the profits of the weapons industry.

For that reason, you were hired to find the children of prophecy and kill them before that happens.

[celaenaeiln]

Absolutely agree with your post. My friend once told me something like “it’s interesting to see how there are a lot of narratives within dick grayson’s stories that can be read as metaphors of rejection of someone’s autonomy—which is many times it happens towards/explored in female characters, e.g the robin mantle being ‘ripped away’ from him without his consent, his should have been ‘fate’ as talon, a tool for CoO” and when you add it with his canonical SA and the many times he gets objectified, another thing that media throughout the times write happened to/explored in female characters, it further cements the point of him occupying the (traditional) female character role.

OG post in reference

Thank you!!! Those are all excellent points to bring up!

You guys did a fantastic job of identifying core examples of where Dick is written for the female role. Every time I read him, I'm amazed time and time again how beautifully DC has written him. He's undeniably written as a man but he's unique in the way his characteristics overwhelmingly reflect typical female personality traits and his entire life story is written as if he were a woman. The relationships he has with people, he always subtly ends up in the female role.

Take the scene of him being objectified -

JLA/Titans Issue #3

This is exactly what it's like to be catcalled.

It's humiliating, uncomfortable, and scary. It needs to be addressed.

But here's where I oppose fandom's view on this. Fandom basically blames DC for scenarios like this where Dick is being harassed by other characters for his beauty or suggesting that Dick somehow encourages this behavior, but I think we should restructure our outlook.

Dick being objectified should be considered as one of his trauma's like his SA is. Like the way Jason death affected him, Stephanie's death affected her, or the way Tim's depression did him, Dick's constant sexual objectification should be analyzed as part of canon problem because it's relates to once again to how women feel in these exact situations. Note the way he is uncomfortable - the writers know what they're doing. They know it's wrong and if they're bringing up his reluctance time and time again, then this should be explored not as a fault of DC but as a problem he's forced to face.

DC uses Dick as a soundboard to broadcast the issues women face in a way that wouldn't be as problematic as if they did with other major female characters. Because doing such things to female characters is a little too political for a comic book and a corporate company so they take liberties through Dick instead. Some of the times they've written him seem intentional and other times it seems unintentional, but even with the way the later is written, it's because they're following Dick's standard characterization which was written to be the balance between men and women.

Another major, MAJOR point you bring up is autonomy.

Autonomy is the essence of his character.

Quick definition: autonomy is the right to self-govern. This means you're in control of your own actions, beliefs, and HERE IT IS - Freedom to do what you wish to.

From the moment Dick and Bruce started fighting, the problem with their relationship boiled down to one thing and one thing only. Freedom.

Given my other Bruce and Dick posts, I've mentioned how Bruce felt an increasing need for control over Dick while Dick felt increasingly furious at his freedom being taken away.

Even Azrael when he lost it for a moment. Batman!Dick

Batman (1940) Issue #709

Another point: For Bruce, all his enemies want him to break. They want him to turn evil but for Dick's, his enemies always want to him to follow them.

Yet the fact that Dick faces all this and continually fights this - he's girlbossing so hard.

That's why I like Dick so much. He breaks the gender roles. Because breaking gender roles isn't just painting your nails pink and saying you respect women. No. It means playing the traditional role of men and women both.

A man's typical role is strength, power, and competitiveness.

A woman's typical role is vulnerability, empathy, and intutition.

But Dick? Dick is one of the strongest fighters in all of DC, he's considered the best leader, and he's so brilliant he always wins his fights. But at the same time, he cries when he's heartbroken. He cares for children that aren't his own and citizens he doesn't know. He anticipates the emotions of his family and friends and loves them for who they are.

That's also a core difference between Bruce's treatment of the batfamily vs Dick's. Where Bruce rages at their disobedience and differences, Dick accepts them and encourages them. Another why Bruce is viewed as the father role of the family while Dick is viewed in the mother context. Evidence of this is pretty clear in Red Robin Issues #23 - 26 with the way Dick treats Tim vs the way Bruce treats him.

DC made Dick pretty on purpose and they wrote him like a woman on purpose while building him up as a man.

I'll iterate agin, he was built to fight male toxic masculinity and we should be looking at him through those lens. He's a complex, deep character that was meant to break gender roles by embodying both male and female characteristics and that's beauty of him.

[am-i-a-failure-if-i-dont-try]

Ooh, and the plot unfolds. Since it's Blüdhaven with a focus on Jason and Dick - perhaps the talons are getting ready for some wide scale attack and needed someone to distract the pesky vigilantes. Firefly was only too happy to oblige (and probably has his own scheme going on). The undead squad: activate! (With surprise special guest, Grundy.)

after the whole reconciliation with jason thing, dick quickly learns that he just CANNOT say certain things around him anymore, ex:

"god it would make things so much easier if _____ just died"

(2 hours later jason comes back and drops an inconspicuous "i don't think _____ will cause you trouble anymore)

or

"i wish someone would knock some sense into _____"

dick, patrolling later on realises, that particular person hasn't caused any trouble around the city for a few days, and asks jason about it, to which he gets a:

"oh i got some goons to go issue him a 'warning'."

[talonabraxas]

The Caduceus: Magical Staff of Hermes Talon Abraxas

“I have united with the serpent of the beyond. I have accepted everything beyond into myself.” -C.G. Jung, The Red Book, Liber Secundus, chapter XXI

“This spirit was eventually interpreted as the Holy Ghost in accordance with the ancient tradition of the Nous swallowed up by the darkness while in the embrace of Physiswith this difference, however, that the devourer is not the supreme feminine principle, earth, but Nous in the form of Mercurius or the tail-eating Uroboros. In other words, the devourer is a sort of material earth-spirit, an hermaphrodite possessing a masculine-spiritual and a feminine-corporeal aspect.”

“Psychology and Alchemy” -Carl Jung

[mr-camhed]

The LARD(Low Altitude Rapid Deployment) Missile is a prototype Nuclear powered supersonic ultra low altitude deep penetration strategic cruise missile envisioned, designed and built by Collins Aeronautics, a subsidiary of the former heavy industrial magnate Collins-Bishop Corporation for the Brabazonian Federation military and later came into the possession of Talon Corporation.

The project LARD started its life in the golden age at the aftermath of the Second Atlantide War, when Federation scientists proposed a project to scope out the world and the source of Atlantide City. The relatively new jet powered supersonic aircraft technology was proposed to be used for a high speed and altitude reconnaissance aircraft called the R-1. However, the jet engine at the time was still rather low on fuel efficiency, especially in the takeoff and climbing stage, meaning the aircraft would have an extremely limited range, while the satellites launched discovered an impenetrable barrier over the rest of the world which rendered most observation and reconnaissance equipment almost useless, and the prototype was quickly mothballed subsequently.

However, the project was revitalized when the Brabazonian Physicist Professor Waylon Magnussen invented the Magnussen Reactor, which was an extremely efficient nuclear reactor capable of insurmountable energy output at a rather miniature size compared to the regular nuclear reactor(at the price of being even more volatile when becoming unstable), which revitalized the project of a high altitude high speed long distance supersonic aircraft, which was now named project "OSHA"（Observational aircraft, Supersonic, High Altitude）, and would be utilizing a ramjet engine powered by a small Magnussen reactor. The aircraft would also be given a larger fuselage and wingspan. And midway through the design phase, the Black Tide Crisis broke out, and Collins-Bishop, smelling potential profit in military weaponry like a hound smelling blood, immediately changed the project from an Observational aircraft into a supersonic bomber.

However, during testing, it was discovered that the power of the Ramjet engine was so powerful that the structure of the airframe would NOT be able to both withstand the tension and stay within the weight simultaneously, and it would be extremely dangerous to a crewed aircraft. However, at the time, the project was already full steam ahead and Collins Aeronautics could NOT afford to just cancel the project with such a massive sunken cost. So the designers had to quickly come up with a plan to salvage the project, and they quickly found a solution by changing the aircraft into an unmanned missile by removing the aircraft's crew compartment, life support systems and landing gear, which means that the danger would no longer be a problem as the missile would only need to fly once. However, there is still the problem that the aircraft's unstability causes the reactor shielding and even the reactor itself to fail, but one military representative, Colonel Rand Toro, who was in visitation to supervise the progression of the projects of Collins aeronautics, where he made the drastic change in the project of making the missile fly extremely low, which not only mean that the missile would be nigh impossible to intercept, it would also weaponize both its supersonic capability and unstability, as the missile would NOT only deploy warheads against the targets, it would also fly over the targets at an altitude so low the sonic boom and the leaking radiation would further the devastation until it either crash or break up midair and explode like a nuclear warhead or eventually depletes its fuel and crash, essentially detonating a dirty bomb at the site of impact, making it an extremely devastating doomsday superweapon.

Unfortunately for them, before the first prototype could take its full test flight, the Black Tide Crisis was safely resolved, which caused a massive market crash of the Military Industrial Complex in the Federation, and the LARD Missile immediately became obsolete, and most of the unfinished prototypes and their launcher vehicles were scrapped, save for several complete and mostly complete prototype in storage until years later, when they were acquired by Talon Corporation, who refurbished and completed the missiles and their launch platforms and secretly shipping it to the new land as a mutually assured destruction system which would ensure widespread devastation of the new land and its residents should they unite against them.

[red-riding-wood]

Hii! 💓 I saw your post about drabbles/one shot requests and I’d like to send in the following angsty/dark prompt for Tommy: ‘I'm here to end what I started.’

Bang Bang

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings: a bit of spice but no smut, violence, angst

WC: 978

Took some loose inspiration from Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) by Nancy Sinatra.

I'm sorry this is so, so late, Daisy! I'm finally back from many hiatuses and am getting my act together with writing. Hope you enjoy because I quite like how this one turned out. <3

Your hand trembled around the revolver, bitterly cold in the winter air of Birmingham, next to the canals where snaking tendrils of mist wrapped around the foundations of the stone bridge. But it was not the cold that sent a shiver along your skin, that blurred the edges of your vision with unshed tears. It was the man who approached, your heart beating wilder with each step he took, your finger feeling less assured against the trigger.

“I’m here to end what I started,” you told him down the barrel of the revolver, a quiver betraying the biting determination of your tone. Were you saying it to convince him, or yourself?

A sliver of moonlight caught the bright of his eyes as they met yours, latching their icy talons round your soul. Like a ghost, he was silent yet slow with his stride, the only indication that he was indeed corporeal being the press of his chest to the barrel, in acceptance or challenge you could tell not.

“So am I,” a low, husky voice met your ears, and before his gaze could drop to your parted lips, you caught the eerie warmth of your own longing mirrored in the ice of his eyes.

As he pressed closer to you, your hand lowering the gun but still holding it loosely to his stomach, that warmth came to you in silk ribbons, in soft brushes against your skin that reminded you of long nights in the Garrison, of stolen dances in lavish clubs, of Arrow House’s hearth as Tommy wrapped a blanket round your shivering shoulders. You could still taste the whiskey he’d handed you on his lips, as if it were yesterday, as his nose tickled yours and the fire of his breath consumed you. His hands, worried not about the gun you held to his stomach, but aching to finally acquaint themselves with every part of you, ran up your thighs and squeezed your waist, pulled you closer to him and drew a soft yelp from your tongue.

He breathed heavy around the muzzle buried in his waistcoat, not letting it stop him from feeling your body against his, from demonstrating just how much he needed you with his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and calloused fingers – so rough in contrast to the softness of his mouth – dragging against the line of your jaw.

Tommy’s grip tightened as you pulled back, possessive and needy, yet he thumbed gently at your flushed cheek as he stared back at you. One of your hands had come up to his chest, nails sinking into the light fabric of his shirt and palm resting over the strong beating of his heart. You were scarcely aware now of the gun you held, your world becoming him and only him as a fracture formed in the ice of his eyes and a few messy strands of dark hair fell over his forehead, his cap forsaken and his entire soul and being bared to you in this moment that made your heart clench so cruelly against your ribs, for you ached for nothing more than to devour him, to let the scent of cologne and cigarettes carry you to a kinder memory, a better place.

A tear streaked across your lips as you tugged at his shirt; you were certain he could taste the bitterness and despair on you as you kissed him again, sadder and softer this time, as if to tell him,

I’m sorry.

And you flinched as the sound of the gunshot ripped through the still air, the sound of your fevered breaths muffled by the ringing in your ears, the ice-blue of his eyes shattering now into hundreds of pieces. Your souls, severed, cold washing over your body once more and your breath hitching in your chest. No longer did his warmth creep into your aching bones; no longer did his fingers send shivers along your flesh. Numbness seeped into every pore, and time seemed to cruelly slow, the thuds of your heart coming fewer against your ribs. Your lips, wet with tears and blood.

Tommy’s thumb swept across your dampened cheek one last time, as if to cast away your sadness, to reassure you that it was okay, and the only warmth you felt now was the stickiness of the fabric between you, pooling at your sternum. Your lips parted in a cry, but no sound came out, and your lungs burned. The revolver clattered to the stone ground.

The icy gaze of death never left you as your legs grew weak beneath you, blood freckling his beautiful face as you sputtered around the whelming surge in your throat, and on his lips formed the words,

“In the bleak midwinter…”

Clawing now at the blood that stained your dress a darker red, you turned, wild and blurry-eyed, to make out the shadow of a wide hat below the light of the streetlamp that undulated in your vision, the lumbering stride and broad shoulders that were all too familiar, the cane that clicked like the tick of a clock against the stone.

Solomons, the last threads of your thought provided. Wisps of smoke dispersed into the fog from the barrel of the man’s pistol, but you barely had the chance to regard your former business partner as gravity pulled you to the earth, as if the Devil were dragging you to Hell.

You never should have trusted him. You never should have trusted either of them.

But Tommy made your fall gentle, cradling you in his arms. A tortured breath fanned your cheeks as his forehead was brought to yours, and it swallowed the light of the streetlamps; it swallowed everything, darkness spilling from the corners of your vision until nothing existed in the world but him, as he personally delivered your soul to the gates of the underworld.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @minaethrym @shelbydelrey @zablife

[bellyasks]

can you write anything about a non-human character (robot, mythical creature, eldritch monster, etc) who doesnt really know how much food a human needs?

Your character is in the care of…

…a robot designed to feed nutritional shakes to people, intended to help those with executive dysfunction. The sound of a stomach growling prompts it to take action, and the only thing that seems to make it stop is the inability to fit any more.

…a non-corporeal entity who doesn't eat, but is aware that humans do. With no concept of stomach capacity, they decide it's better to err on the side of more and provide their human colleague with far more food than they can possibly handle.

…a giant creature much larger than them. They know the human can't possibly eat as much as they can, so they dial it back a little bit when they offer your character dinner, but they still overestimate their capacity by a mile.

…a harpy whose mama bird instinct gives them the urge to feed your character. They keep on offering food, and your character, feeling nervous about the talons, is reluctant to refuse their hospitality.

…a robot assistant who knows humans need to eat, but isn't quite up to speed on how much or when. They're constantly bringing your character more and more snacks and insisting that they eat, determined not to fail as an assistant by letting their human starve.

…a centaur, who's used to eating for two stomachs rather than one. They forget that your character is not, in fact, filling a second, larger belly on top of their usual one, and when they invite your character over for dinner, they want to make sure they leave absolutely stuffed--centaur-style stuffed.

…a colony of tiny fairies, who have kindly slaughtered a deer to feed your character. The fairies don't eat meat, and there's nobody else around, so your character is stuck dealing with the deer themself. They can't let the fairies' hard work go to waste, can they?

…an angel who only eats for fun rather than out of necessity, and has absolutely no stomach capacity themself, able to enjoy as much as they want without getting full. They forget that humans have limits and take your character on a food-filled day out on the town.

[miatressforsissy]

I’m really ready and active to dominate you and make you as loyal and have your dick turned to pussy

[mercless]

i would like to know more about hn talon's feathery ailment ... is it their demonic nature clashing with the angelic blood that is resulting in their worsening condition ? is there a reason why it is specifically feathers / bird-likeness as opposed to anything else ( i.e. would other demons undergo similar transformations if they also got contaminated with angel blood ) ? can you share more about how you envision the progression and prognosis ? will it kill them or will there be some sort of final stage of their transformation ( whether that's a bad thing because it only gets worse and worse , or a good thing because maybe now that it is complete , they won't be in as much pain and discomfort 🥺 ) ? is it at all affected by whatever they're doing / thinking / feeling / experiencing ( tamagotchi talon ... ) ? what do they do to manage their condition ? does it make them self-conscious or feel badly about their physical appearance ?

"-But it looks like the angels ain't done with you."

I don't recommend that anyone ingests angel blood (good thing that's a difficult thing to do these days) but I wouldn't want to definitively say how it works for anyone else either. and I think it makes sense if talon isn't too sure either, with not meeting anyone else in a similar predicament as they (yet... will get to this later) but say if it were another angel Talon had attacked and drank the blood of, I believe they would still be having similar symptoms, as angels are quite feathery beings (varus with his arm of feathers, irelia with her wings and other choicely placed feathers.) But the particular angel they stole from has had a specific impact on just how the blood has changed them.

The reason for their worsening condition is because the blood has a powerful influence, like an undiluted acid. And it is so dramatic of an change because this influence is the polar opposite to their demonic existence. The more that Talon fights against the changes, the less symbiotic the blood and their demonic nature melds, the more violent and painful the experience is for them. And without any interference either with understanding or other experiences, I see it as a bitter, drawn-out struggle. Just wallowing in fatalism until Talon is nothing more than an unrecognisable pile of bile, blood, and feathers that tore itself apart...

Fortunately for them, the more Talon interacts with their rotting world and the people (and creatures) also struggling in it, the more they will come to terms with their own potential, and reflect on how they can be something more than what they once were. Learning that they don't have to let their worst action define their existence. More than just accepting what they did, and putting in the effort to understand emotions and how to be an active part of life, will mean they are not stubbornly fighting against their affliction. This will increase the speed of it's progression, but also be far less painful of an experience since they won't be actively fighting against it. When Talon is unable to call upon any of their demonic abilities anymore, the physical changes of the affliction will be complete, but they will continue to learn and better themself in an attempt to make up for all the wrong and pain they have caused in their existence. I can picture this happening in two or three decades time, in which there is no longer any hellfire, brimstone or summoned weapons. Talon is no longer a demon, but maybe by then they'll also know if the powers that be would accept a malformed, inexperienced, makeshift samaritan as a stand-in. But that's a hopeful thought, thinking they'll live that long.

Going back to the symptoms of the affliction. Previously, Talon's form was one of shadow and brimstone, and they were able to phase in and out of being corporeal at will. Over time, this ability has been weakened - only able to vanish as a shadow for a moment at a time. Brimstone skin was made brittle until it fell away to soft flesh, hollow bone, and hair. Feathers have begun sprouting through this softer skin too, mostly across their left shoulder, arm and chest, but are beginning to sprout along their throat too. Talon used to pull them out by hand, but has forfeited the fight. Back to the left arm, a sort of carapace has begun to form over their left hand, along the thumb's metacarpal and back of the hand in layers of grey ash and weathered gold. This and the growth of the feathers is very similar to Varus' - the angel in which Talon killed and drunk the blood of - own feathers and angelic arm. But without any of the matching powers, it is a far less grand sight.

Although still considerably hot to the touch, Talon's core temperature has drastically lowered compared to the past. Whatever organs of malice and bile a demon has have made way for a growth in their chest, helping pump the foul angelic blood and pesky emotions around their body routinely, and push out more of their demonic essence every day, little by little. With this, it has already made their demonic powers incredibly weakened. Previously Talon also used to be able to disintegrate bodies with a slice of their hellish blades, but they just do not run hot enough anymore. The final physical symptom are their eyes. Once filled with hellfire, it is far more likely nowadays to see their extinguished, golden-brown irises instead. It is slightly controllable with their emotional state, or when using their powers though.

In other ways, the blood has made Talon far more empathetic, given them a conscience. Troubled with how their actions will effect others now, the suffering and cruelty of the world has become a pain all it's own. Dulling the delight in spreading fear and even disturbing the once simple exchange of souls, Talon is often contemplating their next course of action instead of only giving thought to their best interests. And how their previous, often violent actions, have caused so much.

The agony and illness of coughing up feathers and demonic bile leaves talon haggard and frail. Getting sleep and relaxation would help the most, but with their paranoia it is difficult for them to find places to fully lower their guard and properly rest. Talon's tried to get a room in the crossroad saloon before, but it's... never really worked out (Gragas doesn't let them). Hating and damning the ailment only makes it worse, since it's basically like trying to separate themself from something that has already been mixed in. Feathers get stuck in their many teeth, skin itches from keratin growing in. Fatigue and sensitivity to their own heartbeat. Talon tries their best to hide the majority of their symptoms. Their coughs and exhaustion are the most obvious.

For how the changed made by the affliction is making talon feel... I'm going to paraphrase from a previous message;

I say its dysmorphic but the more I think about it, it's also… having your health decline and your body changing along with it, at least with talons perspective right now since they're losing their demonic powers. dysphoric in the way that they're still holding on to the thought that this isn't what they're supposed to be, they're Supposed to be a being of shadow and hellfire not flesh and bone, let alone feathers and sympathy. so I want it to be much more about accepting that this is their body now moreso than finding a way to reverse the changes. That it's okay to change with age and wisdom as you open yourself up more to the world.

At this time, Talon misses being completely monstrous, of being frightening and having that implicit respect. They feel weaker than they really are because they continue to compare themself to the long-gone height of their power, and because their new physical changes make them feel vulnerable. Being constantly exhausted also doesn't help with any of this. Beyond this though, the only other thing they don't like about these changes is just that; it's different. The uncanny features still don't feel like that that's who they are, and there is this disconnect when others react to them, or comment on their looks.

poses I don't know, maybe Talon just needs some sort of big motivation to no longer see this affliction as a curse, but as an opportunity to be more than a demon that skulks in the shadows. And some encouragement that yes, that is in fact a good thing. Maybe like an ultimatum of some sorts.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.4 -- Senjuro (cw// banner has flashing text!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): slight mention of bullying :(

w.count: 5k

a/n: *blows so much dust off this thing after i shelved it for a year* Go ahead and revisit the other chapters via the INDEX for your refreshers if you'd like lol

It had been two weeks since you had seen Rengoku. Your ankle had healed, and you were once again fully mobile- much to your relief. You weren’t sure how much more limping around with a cane or crutch you could take. After your ankle healed and you got the all-clear from Kocho, you went through the hoops of making her your primary physician.

You hadn’t ever met a doctor you could be so comfortable around- though the whole bonding over being attacked by a demon probably had everything to do with that. Still, you were pleased with your new doctor, nonetheless. Not to mention, giving your money to a smaller business worked more for your morality than signing it all away to a huge corporation like a hospital that already had more than enough business on its side. 

Rengoku never went a day without sending you texts. You had a feeling he did this with all his friends and acquaintances; texting you a ‘very good morning!’ or asking when you’d be getting off work at night and to be careful on the way. You find it pretty cute. Finding a man as well rounded, optimistic and diligent in the ways of keeping in touch wasn’t exactly something you’d consider common; especially since he didn’t use any sort of abbreviations and spoke in fully formatted sentences like he was standing right in front of you.  

Apparently, with midterms and exams coming up, he’s been busy keeping his students occupied and prepping them for passing grades. That, alongside any extra tutoring lessons or occasional substitute gigs has his days packed. 

“Being a teacher must be tough,” you had thought to yourself during one of your many threads where he explained such things.  

You remember the second time Kaname showed up to your house unannounced. Luckily you were home when he landed on the branch outside your window. Though, that didn’t stop you from being startled at the big black mass that landed and pecked at the window to your living room. You were confused as he hopped right on inside when you opened the glass window before he flew to your couch and just sat himself on the arm of it. You didn’t see anything attached to his leg like before- which would’ve been odd since Rengoku had literally texted you earlier- so you were wondering why he was there in the first place. 

Then your phone dinged.

(Rengoku): Per chance, you haven’t seen Kaname flying around, have you? 

Clearly, Rengoku was also unaware that his crow was hanging around your place. The picture you sent him of the black bird leisurely resting in your living room had him calling you for the first time. It was comical, hearing his voice over speaker phone to reprimand Kaname as if the crow would actually understand what was being said to him and reflect on his actions. 

It obviously didn’t work since the next day Kaname was once again pecking at your window as you got ready to leave the house to run some errands. And you continued to allow him inside. Enabling this behavior is probably the opposite of what Rengoku wanted from his work crow, but were you just supposed to sit and stare at that poor, needy bird out your window? No. Of course you weren’t. 

You were sat on the ground by your door, pulling on your shoes when Kaname had cawed behind you. You made a small noise of surprise before you felt his talons land on the shoulder of your jacket. His added weight on your shoulder and his black avian body perched on you was something he hadn’t done before, but you smiled at the fact this bird was getting more and more comfortable with you. Of course, you would then remember that this was a working bird, and he wasn’t exactly yours. 

“You want to come out with me?” Kaname cawed with a small flap of his wings as if he truly understood your question and was giving you an answer. “Alright. You’ll have to stay outside when I’m in stores though, okay?” Another small flap of his wings. 

You stand and grab your bag, going through the checklist of what you’ll need leaving the house. Phone. Wallet. Keys. And whatever else your bag had hiding inside it. With an impulsion decision, you pull out your phone and take a picture of Kaname resting on your shoulder before sending it to Rengoku- who was probably still working since it was still early afternoon- and slipping your phone in your pocket. 

“Remember to behave, Kaname,” you tell the crow one more time before you leave the house with him remaining perched on your shoulder. 

You thought that having Kaname perched on your shoulder was a cute thing. It showed that he liked you and had- to some degree- grown to trusted you. Having a little friend around for Taco to chase was a bit of an annoying exercise sometimes since the feline must’ve felt jealous. Or that's how you justify the way Taco would crawl up your legs to try and get the same level of attention at the crow. Still, having a smart corvid hang around willingly made you feel… magical? For lack of better terms. If this is what witches in the woods in fairy tales felt like you were more than willing to commit to the bit. 

That is, it’s all comfortable in the comfort of your home. The moment you stepped outside, you could feel the eyes of all the people also on the street focused on you. People from across the street giving you looks like you wouldn’t notice. Kids on playgrounds in the park you had to cross definitely had your face growing warm with the cheers of “that ladies got a big bird on her!”. 

It's silly how you had completely forgotten that it wasn’t exactly a normal, everyday thing to witness.  Still, Kaname remained unbothered. Lucky him. 

It wasn’t like you could shoo him off now. That would’ve made you feel more guilty than embarrassed. No, you couldn’t do that to him. So, instead of acting like a bitter woman, you just lifted your hand and used the back of your fingers to lightly ruffle his feathers just under his beak. His nuzzle into your hand as you gave him attention sealed the deal. 

When you get to the first store you need to stop at- a department store- you point to a small, city planted tree that sat in its own little square of dirt surrounded by brick that really needed to be upkept a bit better. 

“Now, you remember our agreement?” You talk face to face with the bird in broad daylight, not acting like a loon in the least. Still, Kaname bellows back to you like he was agreeing. “Good. I won’t be long.” You turn your back on your trusted corvid pal before you’re walking through the automated glass doors of the store. 

True to your word, you were in and out as quick as you could be- or in this case, as quick as the newly trained cashier who was stressing out over their first real day could go. You made sure to give a quick “you’re doing great” on your way out. When the same automated doors- with a few new smudges from strangers who couldn’t resist touching the clean glass- reopen to let you back outside, you see a small gaggle of teenagers. They surround the same, wimpy looking city planted tree you had left Kaname in, and with their phones out were snapping photos and a video of the cawing bird. 

For a bird, he sure had a lot of personality. Though, you supposed that all birds did in one way or another and crows were already smart to begin with. Though, you felt irritated as they all hovered around him like some sort of attraction. 

Stepping off to the side, you get out of the way of the entrance before you’re calling him. You figured that the kids would probably keep filming and snapping photos, so you turned your back to them before calling him back. Kaname would know the back of your head anyways. 

“Kaname,” you speak clearly. It wasn’t loud, but just enough to be heard over the bustle of the afternoon traffic. The crow’s head twitched before his wings unfurled and he was gliding gracefully over to your shoulder that he favored. With another quick finger pet on the crown of his bowed head, you start off again. You ignore the teens who were hollering after you, feeling like an attraction just as Kaname had been treated as. 

When you finally don’t hear them anymore and make it to a section of street that isn’t so thick with people that you’re stepping on each other, you pat Kaname affectionately on his beak that he once again nuzzles into. 

“I’m sorry about them. Your picture is probably going to be floating around school campus’s now.” Maybe he understood, maybe he didn’t. You didn’t speak crow, so his cawing back to your linguistic woes didn’t spark much need to keep talking. 

You continue your errand running in much the same fashion. Window shopping here, stepping into a small shop there, always leaving Kaname somewhere to wait for you- although this time higher than eye level so he wouldn’t be as bothered by the public. It was when you had just finished your final store run when you felt Kaname tug at your hair after riding on your shoulder for a while. 

“Ow!” You whine when his beak snags some of your hair and tugs on it. You turn to him to try and him to quit it when you see a familiar combination of blond and red. Though, it was atop a much smaller body. 

A small boy, maybe high school aged, has that same flame styled hair that you recognize. He was stuck between two other boys, one with his arms slung around Rengoku’s(?) shoulder. The other was hovering around like he was herding him. The boy who resembled Rengoku looked so uncomfortable that when they rounded a corner, your body just took off after them. 

You were right to trust your instincts. 

The two were classic, low-grade bullies from the look of things. Taking the smaller Rengoku’s bag and shifting through it like they were looking for something. You didn’t even realize that now is the time that schools had released their students for the day. You wanted to help but had no idea how to start. Shouting maybe? A strong Hey! would surely get their attention and maybe little Rengoku, who may not even be related (somehow), could slip away in the distraction. 

Luckily, Kaname disrupted your brainstorming and created an opportunity for you. 

With a loud and crass and angry sounding caw, his wings opened, and he flew towards the two bullies like a graceful, winged bullet. His talon’s had landed in the nest of hair of the boy who had the little Rengoku’s bag, effectively making him drop it. With another warning caw, jumps off his head- taking a few stray hairs with him, and flew up and swooped back down to attack the other boy’s skull with small pecks of his beak. You were in awe. Kaname didn’t even need your help defending the bullied victim! Still-

“Hey!” Your original plan of just shouting was definitely more effective when you had an aggressive black bird on your side. Kaname stopped his pecking and flew back up into the air, circling around before he was landing on your shoulder. His eyes that were gentle and relaxed before were now narrowed and attentive. “Leave that boy alone and get out of here,” you command with your stance wide, and arms crossed with your errand shopping bags hanging in the crux of your elbow. You knew that it wasn’t your demeanor that sent the brats packing, but the aura of the angry corvid that added a boost to your intimidation. 

When they were out of sight, you let out a sigh and you felt Kaname relax too. Uncrossing your ams, you jog over to the boy who was now gathering the things that had fallen out of his backpack. Kneeling on the ground with him, you place your bags down and put your hand gently on his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Hey,” you say again, much softer this time than before when you bellowed it. “Are you alright?” You ask. 

The boy nods and his completely tied back hair, aside from the front strands, bounce as he does. You hear him hum in affirmation too. He did a bad job of convincing you that he was really okay. Still, you give him a moment to collect himself. 

“You’re name,” you start as you pick up a stray pencil that had rolled away from him, “it’s Rengoku, isn’t it?” You were near positive. After all, who else could look so closely related to the Rengoku that you know? When he lifts his head and the eyes that also resemble the ones you know was proof enough. 

“Yes?” He sounded nervous. Rightfully so. You’re quick to defend yourself. 

“Oh! I just- well, you look a lot like someone I know, so I just took a wild guess.” Rengoku had mentioned before that he had a little brother in high school. “He mentioned he had a kid brother once too.” The more you tried to save face, the more awkward the whole thing felt. 

Still, the little boy’s face seemed to relax at the mention of familiar individual. 

“You know my older brother?” 

“Sure do,” you reassure. Helping him pack away the rest of his fallen items into his bag, you pick up your own bags and walk with him back out onto the main street. “Where are you heading? Do you want me to walk you?” Your sudden offer must’ve flustered him since his cheeks went pink. You were still a stranger, so yeah, it was kind of weird. 

“I’m okay!” It sounded like he meant it that time, more so because he was embarrassed and blurted it out in such flustered conviction. “I’m just going home. I’m not far now.” 

You hum worriedly but give in anyway. Then, the familiar weight you had gotten used to on your shoulder departed. Kaname and swapped from you to rest on the head of the smaller Rengoku, using his blonde roots as a nest. You chuckle. Looks like he’d have a well-trained escort home, so you weren’t needed after all. 

“Alright, then. Be careful going home.” He bashfully nods before he’s walking away from you. With a small huff of anxiety for his safety, you check the time on your phone. “Oh, damn!” You curse to yourself before rushing back the way you had come. It had gotten so late that if you didn’t get home soon, you wouldn’t have time to feed and play with Taco before it got dark. He’d pout about that for days if you missed his usual ‘me time’! 

Senjuro walks into the apartment he lives in with his older brother and let out a deep breath as he dropped his bag and sat to remove his shoes. Kyojuro, who had managed to come home earlier than usual by deciding to take the short, 15 question quizzes he had to grade back home with him instead of doing it on school premises, heard the familiar sounds of the front door opening, closing then locking. He didn’t need to go out tonight for demon slaying, so he had already changed into more comfortable clothes by the time Senjuro returned. 

Hair pulled off his neck with a hair tie that was fighting for its life and his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. The sweater he wore was light in color with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows as his lazy, black pants kept his legs warm. The air conditioning was almost always running in the apartment since both boys always seemed to run a bit warming than others.

“You are back early today,” Senjuro greets when the older sibling stood behind him and helped him off the floor when he slipped into his house shoes. Senjuro often wore slippers inside since his feet were always so cold- his older brother was the opposite walking around the apartment barefoot. 

“It isn’t often I can spend so much free time at home,” Kyojuro answers. The two walk deeper into the house when Kaname flies inside and to the wooden perch Kyojuro had set up months ago for him to rest on in the living room. 

The apartment was small, but just enough for the two boys. When Kyojuro had moved out of his family home, he was insistent that Senjuro come with him. Their father wasn’t fit to raise the youngest right now and everyone knew it. 

The main space was open and spacious. A single three cushion couch was in the middle of the open area with a tv mounted on the wall. The small coffee table in front of the couch is scattered with items and random odds and ends that never made it back to their proper place. Behind the couch was a small table that could seat four and was currently covered in the quizzes Kyojuro was previously grading. Beyond the living room was a small kitchen that Senjuro was in charge of since his older brother could not cook to save his life. Just down the short hall were their respective bedrooms, an extra room Kyojuro uses for an office space and the bathroom. 

Just quaint enough for the Rengoku boys. 

Kyojuro took to gathering his graded and ungraded papers into piles so he could make room for the homework of Senjuro’s that would soon be replacing his own mess. He could finish in the office later- his little brother’s studies are more important and this way he could ask questions if he needed help instead of holing up in his room at his own desk. 

Hearing Kaname honk softly for a dried treat, Senjuro is quick to oblige. Kyojuro stops his gathering as he takes his glasses off to have them hang off the v-neck of his sweater instead and crosses his arms. He sets his sights on his faithful crow.

“Where have you been all day?” Kyojuro knew Kaname understood him, and he also knew he could get an answer if the bird felt like he wanted to. Senjuro, who had fed him his treat, ran his hands along his back with the flow of his feathers. Then, the mysterious woman he met today came to his mind. 

“Ani ue,” Senjuro calls out the formality of his brother even though he’s been told time and time again that he doesn’t need to. Still, Kyojuro answers with an acknowledged hum, pushing his slight annoyance at his crow aside. “Have you met a girl recently?” 

The question stuns Kyojuro for a second. Longer than a second actually. Really, the bout of silence that followed the innocent question was long enough to make the air awkward. 

“Could you be more specific?” Kyojuro asked in return. His mind went to a space that his little brother didn’t need to be meddling in. Meeting a woman like… romantically? Or was he just over thinking? 

“In terms of meeting someone new.” 

He was over thinking. 

“Ah,” moron. He curses to himself. “I see.” He racks his brain with a hand at his chin. He often meets all sorts of people at work. New substitute teachers come and go all the time. Maybe he meant one of them? Or maybe… 

Kyojuro’s eyes widen in epiphany as he looks back at Kaname. Senjuro had been in classes all day, as had he been. When he wasn’t busy with his job as messenger bird, Kaname often lazed here at home. There was only one place Kaname had been frequently disappearing to instead of staying in the comfort of his home recently. His arms dropped back down to his sides as he walked closer to his crow and brother. 

“Is there a reason you want to know?” Kyojuro sits on the couch and offers the cushion next to him as Senjuro takes it easily. Slightly facing each other, they carried on their conversation. 

“I dropped my bag on the street today,” Senjuro starts. Kyojuro knew that wasn’t the full truth. As much as he hated it, Senjuro was timid enough to be picked on by other kids and Kyojuro wasn’t always around to help him. “When I was picking up my stuff, this woman came to help me. She knew my name; said I looked like someone she knew.” Senjuro’s habit of picking at his nail beds started up and Kyojuro quietly pulled his hands away from each other. “Kaname was with her too. I was just curious.” 

Kyojuro looked into the wide, curious eyes of his little brother and smiled. He called for his crow, and Kaname easily made a home on the back of the couch between the two siblings. Kyojuro pet Kaname’s back and under his beak, alternating. 

“You were with y/n-san all day weren’t you?” 

“Yes!” The crow loudly cawed. 

“Don’t you go and forget where it is you actually live,” Kyojuro lightly reprimands. “And don’t go speaking around her either. You’ll scare the wits out of her cat.” He returns his attention back to his brother. “To answer your question from earlier now, yes. I do believe I’m familiar with the woman you ran into today." Senjuro took notice to the change in his brother's face. Did he know he was making such a softened expression? "She and I met recently.” 

Something in Senjuro’s eyes shined at the mention of you from Kyojuro’s mouth directly. Maybe it was because he didn’t need to worry about a stranger knowing who he was. Or maybe it was something else Kyojuro just wasn’t picking up on. Senjuro spent a little bit longer talking about you, how you had shopping bags, how Kaname was so comfortably hanging around you, and how you seemed like a nice person. 

Soon, the brother-on-brother chit-chat had to come to a stop. The sun would be setting soon and Senjuro still had homework to do and dinner to make. Kyojuro took his papers to his office and shut the door. Dropping his work on his desk, he flipped on the desk lamp before he sat himself in his chair. The leather creaked at his added weight and the chair reclined when he leaned back against it. 

Digging his phone from his pocket of his slacks, he stared at his reflection in the black screen. Kyojuro really wanted to thank you for helping Senjuro, but for some reason he couldn’t even tap on the screen of his smartphone to wake it up.

Kyojuro wasn’t a religious man, but he did thank whatever god had been watching him when the screen lit itself up with an incoming text. 

(y/n-san): Did Kaname make it back home? 

Kyojuro laughs out loud at your message. Senjuro hears it echo from the kitchen. Kyojuro would get his grading done first, then he'd set aside time for you.

You jump out of your skin when, as you’re mindlessly browsing through your socials, an unexpected call jumps your phone to life in both vibrations and a loud ringtone you had always seem to forget the sound of. Fumbling your phone in your hands, you snatch it up before it could give way to gravity and hit the ground... or Taco who was resting on your lap. 

Seeing Rengoku’s name printed on your screen had you mentally lagging before you’re answering the call. Any later and it would’ve been dropped, then you’d be forced with the dilemma of if you call him back or just pretend it never happened. 

The sound of light white noise greets you for a moment as you bring the phone up to your ear. Then, you start off the call first. 

“Hello?” 

“Ah! You picked up!” He sounded excited. You mindlessly start petting through Taco’s fur as he still lay peacefully on your lap. “I’m glad. I was worried you may be busy given the time.” 

“That makes sense,” you agree. Any other night you’d be just about ready for work. “I have the night off tonight, so your timing works out.” 

“How fortunate!” You’ve never heard someone say those words without it being sarcastic before. He really sounded like he was relieved he wasn’t taking up your time. You smile as you lean back against the cushions of your couch and turn the tv you had on for background noise down. It was turned onto some random celebrity reality show or something, you weren't really paying attention to it. 

“Kaname did make it back safely to answer your earlier question. I apologize I couldn’t reply immediately. I was finishing up some work that I had already stopped in the middle of once.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You shift your legs. Taco mewls in annoyance. “Was it for…?” You didn’t know how to ask if he was talking about his work in education or his demon slaying gig. 

“It was for my classes! Grading quizzes can take up a significant amount of my time. I was also helping my brother with some homework when he needed it!” 

You perk up at the mention of his brother.

“That reminds me,” you start, “I ran into him on the road today. I was out running errands when we met.” 

“Yes,” Rengoku's voice took on a softer tone, “that is one reason I wanted to call you.” You stay quiet. Unsure on what to say next. “Senjuro is a gentle child, so he is easily the target of people who feel the need to push other's around. I feel guilty that he doesn’t express to me all the things that happens, but you helped him out today, yes?” 

“Well, sort of. Kaname did most of the work if I’m being honest.” You stop and think about what happened right before you noticed the little Rengoku- who’s name you now know to be Senjuro. Kaname was tugging at your hair, almost like he was trying to get your attention to shift somewhere else. “Without him, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to chase off those brats myself. So, really the credit is all his.” 

You hear Rengoku chuckle on the other end of the line. It was easy to tell just by his voice and concerned tone alone that Rengoku really cared about his little brother. 

“Does your brother do any after school clubs?” 

“Pardon?” The question caught the flame-head off guard. 

“I just- and stop me if this is totally invasive- but I thought that maybe if he needed, I could check on him from time to time after school. Just to make sure he’s not being bullied?” Saying it out loud made you realize just how crazy you sounded.  It sounded like you were trying to butt into their lives! “I’m sorry. It’s just I’m usually free in the afternoons and all so-” 

“I’d appreciate that.” 

“Oh,” you breathe. You half expected him to kindly reject you as you shoved your foot further into your big mouth. “Really?” 

“Senjuro sometimes spends time in the school’s library until I’m ready to go home with him. On the days where he or I cannot go back home together, I do worry about him. I know he'll need to defend himself one day, but he’s still young.” 

There’s a bout of silence between you both for an uncomfortable amount of time. You wonder if the call disconnected at one point because it was so quiet. Still, the time recording the length of the call kept ticking up, so Rengoku was definitely still on the other line. 

“So,” you clear your throat. “Senjuro-kun likes to read?” 

“He does!” The pep is thrust back into his voice and you feel relieved. 

The call lasts for much longer than you anticipated. So long that Taco had gotten off your lap, paced around the couch twice, ran up and down the halls and whined for food all the span of it. You don’t remember the last time you had a long phone call that wasn’t work or business related. Even the few previous calls you've recieved from Rengoku weren't this drawn out. It was enjoyable.

You notice the numbers glaring at you from the clock of your living room and gasp. It was getting late. Really late. And Rengoku- even if he wasn’t working tonight- had classes tomorrow. 

“It’s getting late,” you find the next best gap in conversation and throw in the beginning of the end of the call. “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? It wouldn’t be good for a teacher to be dead tired all day because he was up so late.” 

“Believe it or not, I’m not a morning person at all! Senjuro brews me coffee every morning since I tend to be grumpy from the long nights I should be used to by now.” 

You laugh at the image. You don’t think you’ve seen him frown once since you met him- even if it hasn’t been that long. 

“Even more reason to let you go.” You get up off the couch and stretch. As if predicting your moves, Taco races towards your room ahead of you. Of course, you’d wash up properly before joining your feline son. “I enjoyed talking to you, Rengoku-san.” 

“You don’t need to be so polite,” he insists. “Referring to me by name alone is just fine.” 

“You’ll need to drop the formalities with me too then. It’d be weird if I spoke casually with you, just for you to not.” 

“Deal.” 

“Good night, Rengoku.” 

“Sweet dreams, y/n.” 

The call ends. Even though you wash your face with cold water, your skin still feels warm in your palms. 

a/n: wow i can't wait for next year when i get around to writing another chapter (is this satire? who knows)

[cilil]

Miscellaneous Manwë headcanons...

...because I feel like talking about him right now idk

Manwë actually didn't want to be Elder King - which makes him a good choice at least in terms of avoiding tyranny - but accepted Eru's choice and tries to do it to the best of his ability. He would give up his crown in a heartbeat if Eru said so and has been tempted by Melkor multiple times, as it would be a great relief for him

To this day Manwë doesn't know the full story about what happened between Melkor and Varda. Melkor didn't tell him out of shame and Varda didn't tell him to avoid him worrying about hurting his brother's feelings. Whenever rumors go around Valinor, Manwë assumes it was a pretty standard sort of dispute

He's still sad about Melkor's betrayal and believes in his redemption. However, he knows that he and Nienna are pretty alone with this belief and therefore stopped talking about it. Manwë has since taken to grieving and hoping in secret, not even sharing these thoughts with Varda sometimes

The reason why he doesn't speak to mortals is not any sort of elitism or dislike, he has merely learned that, much like with Melkor, he has trouble understanding them and his presence would likely cause more harm than good

Manwë's title as Lord of the Breath of Arda and the way he uses his element to defend himself against Melkor in Lost Tales imply that he creates air and wind by breathing. This in turn may result in him always providing fresh air, maybe actually breathing regularly like incarnates do (simply for convenience) and being unable to suffocate, even if he decided to wear a fána that requires air

Due to his nature as a being of air and wind, Manwë is very light. Despite the size difference, even a Hobbit could lift and throw him

This is also why he hates any sort of restrictive clothing and will pretty much always wear robes and nothing else

Manwë is pretty much always floating, it's just not visible due to his robes. He even performs walking motions and thinks he's walking like everyone else as long as his feet touch the ground occasionally, but he isn't quite there. Nobody has had the courage/bothered to correct him yet

Manwë switches back and forth between humanoid and bird feet frequently and often forgets which set of feet he currently has. This leads to him grasping and holding on to things using humanoid feet with surprising dexterity. He also prefers to use stress balls with his feet

Due to bird feet having talons Manwë has ruined various pairs of shoes and socks over the years and has since stopped wearing them entirely because he feels bad whenever he ends up breaking things by accident

Manwë has blue eyes (that part is actually canon). He defaults to having blue eyes in other fánar as well and is only seen with different eye colors if he's actively choosing to change it

His wings are always there, but not always corporeal or visible. Manwë summons and dismisses them as he sees fit. He is of course able to fly with them, but doesn't need them

Will add more later maybe, we'll see