#written in torment

[child0feden]

some very under-appreciated uk metal men

okayyy, what is this post? well, nothing… kind of… it is just a list, that includes pictures, of some men from the uk metal scene who i think are super cute and talented and who i have never seen my mutuals mention before! because i loveee exposing you all to new beautiful people anddd new very good bands too hehe <3

some of these people have been / are in multiple bands but i will only list one that i think seems to be / have been their main band or the band that showed their skill the best ^w^

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ jack “ valefar ” hart, past drummer for baalberith ✩ england

daniel “ sathan ” theobald, drummer and vocalist for ethereal forest ✩ derbyshire, england ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ byron “ nephilim ” braidwood, past guitarist and vocalist of monumentomb ✩ maidstone, england

oscar “ angmaer ” taylor, vocalist and guitarist for angmaer ✩ wolverhampton, england ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ demitri “ dimmu ” levantis, past drummer for trolls in the mist ✩ london, england

count orlock, everything for krigskygge ✩ buckingham, england ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ mike “ leviathan ” hardisty, vocalist for written in torment ✩ harrogate, england

david “ sammael ” carter, past bassist for baalberith ✩ england ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ rob “ dokkalfur ” lehane, vocalist and guitarist for primitive graven image ✩ chesham, england

james “ retch ” cartwright, everything for cruciatus ✩ wiltshire, england ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

obviously looks are subjective but i think they are all adorableee and their skills are definitely objective! at least i think they are… if you guys like this silly little post then maybe i will make another! i like fawning over people on my home soil <3

[schellis]

Chai may have great timing but CNMN, maybe not as much.

Anyway imagine accidentally summoning a friend in the middle of a fight with Final Boss+.

Scene from an amazing fic by @kopawz, SECRET BOSS BATTLE: CALLING YOUR MOM :]

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?

[rroketa]

If Motorcity continued and Julie's secret would have got revealed I feel like the team would generally be understanding. (AND IM ANGRY WE WONT KNOW)

Like at least Dutch for sure. Like there were the notes that Dutch finds out first, and he's a kind of a 'in my own lane' guy, so I think he'd understand Julie. And most likely doesn't reveal anything because he'd trust Julie to reveal things on her own terms, but definitely still have that skepticism of what's taking her so long, knowing that prolonging things will just hurt more in the long run.

I think they would write Mike to be fine in the end with it. But at least he'd not be talking to ANYONE for a day or two, and then with the reassurance of his team (most likely Jacob) he can accept Julie and move on, making probably the team's bond stronger now.

But like what I'mm thinking because I love drama, is that this definitely effects Mike and his Issues. Like you just get over your first large betrayal (gone from home, whole ideaology shattered), and then KANE rears his face once again. Like I can see it affecting his trust towards his team in general, getting paranoid/clingy/obsessive if there's anything else that's hidden from him. I think the other guys could be understanding of Julie, but still stay on Mike's side. Or maybe there's a whole divide in the team for a while. AGHH

[neversetyoufree]

Sometimes I do feel almost overwhelmed with how much I like VnC. It's so magic that there happens to be a series out there filled to the brim with the exact sorts characters, story beats, and themes that I love most, and it happens to be constructed in exactly the way that I find most satisfying to write about and examine and dwell within.

[idk-bruh-20]

rip ultron Tony Stark would've loved to call you ChatGPT

[knightforflowers]

is it being the Halloween month a good enough excuse to post abt my Ethersea Bloodborne au

in which the Coriolis Crew are amateur beast hunters subjected to the abominable victorian eldritch horror torment nexus that is the plot of Fromsoftware’s Bloodborne 2015 👍

[elizakai]

do you guys ever have multiple projects or tasks you need to finish and have been putting off but the demotivation/depressive wave hits like a truck whenever you think about it? so you either can’t work on anything else out of stress, or you work on everything else out of a need to justify your own inability to do the original task?

ANYONE??? SOBBBBBB

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I just saw you were taking requests! :D Lately, I've been obsessing over Buck's and Dally's relationship. Do you think you could write something about them? Preferably a sickfic/whump, but no worries if not.

@fefe-the-cat I HOPE THIS DOES YOU JUSTICE!!! This is where I kinda admit I've never thought much about Dally 'n Buck but this was fun to explore!! TYSM for the ask!!! fic below the cut!!

CW: mentions of vomit and throwing up!! nothing graphic!!

Dallas rolls over, grabs the bucket he'd stolen from the shed 'n brings up the only thing left in his stomach: bile. Waves of nausea roll over him, causin' his shoulders to buck 'n his elbows to buckle from where he's tryin' to hold his weight. He lets himself collapse face down on the bed, buryin' his face in his sheets.

Shit.

He doesn't know why he thought he'd be over this by now. Glory, kill him now. He'd felt like shit yesterday mornin' when he'd woken up thrown unceremoniously into the back bedroom at Buck's. He hadn't been surprised, per say. Wakin' up at Buck's almost certainly meant he'd gotten piss drunk the previous night without one of the gang to drag his sorry ass back to Darry. He'd chalked the sickness in his stomach and heaviness in his limbs to forgettin' to stop before the tequila shooters.

That had become a harder beleif to hold as he crawled into bed last night feelin' worse then when he'd started. By the time he woke up this mornin' heavin' dinner he'd accepted it.

He finally stops chokin' on nothin' 'n sits up and against the wall. He was beginnin' to really regret not just draggin' his ass to the Curtis' place. But he didn't want to do that to Darry. He wasn't that selfish. If he wound up on their porch with the bug he'd pass it to Pony who would give it to Soda, would pass it over to Steve who'd hot potato it to Johnny and it would swiftly wind up with Two and finish out strong with Darry. Sickness made the ranks of the gang like clockwork.

No, he was determined to figure this one out himself. He'd be fine.

Dallas dragged his head off the mattress, instantly heavin' again. Fuck, how Darry could take care of all six of them without losin' his mind was beyond Dallas.

A knock pounds on the door and Dallas runs a hand over his mouth to wipe away the bile, scrubs over his face, pushes back his hair. "I'm not runnin' the fuckin' ponies today, Buck, piss off."

He's not necessarily surprised when, instead of retreatin', the door flies open. Not shocked but still irate. Buck stands in the doorway lookin' pissed as all get out before he gets a good look at Dallas. He softens instantly, cockin' one eyebrow.

"You look like shit." Dallas rolls flat onto his back, stares at the celin'.

"Gee, thanks." He pushes himself to sit when Buck doesn't leave. "Fuck off, I'm fine." Buck rolls his eyes. Well, that was new. Usually, when Dallas told him to get lost he'd mutter about some fuckin' kid who thought he could order his grown ass around 'n then promptly get lost.

"Move over." Buck crosses the room in three strides, not that it was impressive, the room was practically a renovated closet. Dallas was more amused with the fact it took him that many.

"Buck, leave me alone. I feel like shit, I'm not runnin' those fuckin' horses." Dallas squeezes his eyes shut 'n bites down hard to keep his teeth from chatterin'.

"Yeah, no shit." He nearly jumps out of his skin when Buck's hand comes down on his forehead. He snaps his eyes open again, bats his hand away.

"Buck, get the hell out of here, would ya?" He tries again. Buck pulls the cig that's burnin' down to nothin' from his mouth, stamps it out on the bottom of his boot, and tosses it out the open window. He reaches over 'n wiggles it shut. "I wanted that open." Dallas shoots him a glare even though he was gonna close it himself the second he got the man out of his room.

"That's probably why you got sick to start with. Close the fuckin' windows in winter, why doncha?" He rolls his eyes and sounds too much like Darry for comfort. Dallas kicks him in the thigh.

"I'm not sick." Buck actually laughs in his face.

"Sure. Do you vomit on the weekends for fun now?" He kicks the bucket Dallas dropped to the floor. Dallas glares at him. "Look, I'll go get that Darry guy, he can come scrape you off the ground." Buck goes to walk out 'n Dallas snags a hand around his wrist quick as quick.

"Leave Darry out of this." Buck stops, fixes him with a stare. "I don't want him to worry or nothin'."

Well. That wasn't the answer Buck had expected.

"Fine." He shakes Dallas' hand off 'n Dally lets it drop to the bed. "But I'm not gonna let you die in my back room. Bad for business." Dallas rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. Buck disappears into the hall, returns with a thermometer.

"I don't need that shit. I'm fine." Buck shoots him an incredulous look Dallas pointedly ignores.

"I don't really care if you think you don't need it. Either you're openin' up for it to I'll get Darry down here to open your mouth for you." Dallas scowls as Buck plays the only card in his hand. He wasn't sure what Darry Curtis had on the rabid dog that was Dallas Winston but whatever it is, does the trick. Dallas leans over 'n snatches the thermometer, shovin' it into his mouth. "Now keep it there. God knows it'll be hard since you can't ever seem to keep your mouth shut." Dallas shoots him a glare 'n he doesn't need words to convey how close he is to kickin' Buck's ass. Buck just grins.

After a long minute, Buck plucks the glass from Dallas' mouth 'n checks the readin'. He lets out a long, low whistle. "Holy shit, kid."

Dallas momentarily stops scowlin' 'n Buck swears he hasn't seen the vulnerable look on his face since Dallas was fourteen 'n rollin' into Tusla with an accent so strong you couldn't understand a damn thing he said and the hunted look of someone much, much older.

"I think you're out for the count, kid." Dallas is still so focused on the red line he forgets to be agitated with Buck for callin' him a kid. Buck puts one hand on his chest 'n pushes him back down to the pillows.

"What does it say?" Dallas puts up a decent, three-second fight before he goes white 'n grabs for the bucket. Buck worries his lip, runs a hand up the kid's back.

"Says you're sick, dumbass." Buck sighs, stands up once Dallas shoulders stop shakin'.

"Don't go." Dallas' hand snakes out again, this time fingers diggin' deep into Buck's wrist. He freezes, takes in Dallas' gaunt face, his sudden desperation.

"I'm not goin'. I'm gettin' you a glass of water since you've been yackin' nothin' since yesterday." Dallas hesitates a moment 'n Buck doesn't try to pry his fingers off.

"Fine. But don't you dare come back here with medicine. I won't take none of that nasty shit." Buck rolls his eyes and crosses back to the door.

"You'll take whatever I want you to so I don't have to have the cops carry your skinny ass out of here in a body bag." Buck pretends he doesn't see the middle finger Dallas throws as he leaves the room.

When he comes back the kid is suddenly much more subdued than he was when Buck left. Buck deposits the shot glass of cold syrup and water on the nightstand.

"What is it, kid?" Dallas leans back against the wall, pulls his knees up to his chest.

"Buck, am I gonna die?" And the question jars Buck so hard he chokes on whatever he was gonna say.

"Are you gonna what?" Dallas turns the full force of his cold, ice eyes to Buck.

"Die." He deadpans.

"What the hell made you think some little cold is gonna knock off the unkillable Dallas Winston?" Buck smooths a strand of white blonde hair from his forehead. He knows he must really be feelin' whatever bug he's caught when he doesn't fight it at all.

"I dunno. I don't get sick. Last time was... New York." He trails off, buries his head down in his knees. He doesn't need to clarify what he means.

"Yeah, well." Buck picks up the glass, forces it into Dally's hands. "This time you got people lookin' out for you. Ain't no stupid bug gonna kill you, kid."

Dallas takes the cup, swallows a tentative sip. "I guess."

"Look. You're tired. You're half delirious if the nonsense you're spittin' says anythin'. Just try to go to sleep. You'll wake up feelin' better." Buck takes the water, swaps it for the shot glass of medicine. Dallas knocks it back like he shoots vodka- makin' a face 'n then pretendin' he enjoyed it.

He eases Dallas back onto the bed, decides fuck it, the kid was as much Darry's problem as he'd once been Buck's. A million years ago. He'd call him once he got the kid down.

Dallas' eyes flicker shut, blonde lashes fannin' across his cheeks. Buck smooths his hair back one final time, pulls the blanket up 'n over him.

He's nearly out of the room when he hears Dalla's hoarse mutter. "What is it, kid?"

"Thanks, Buck. For everythin'." Buck isn't sappy or nothin' 'n if you asked he'd swear he had no idea what you were dreamin' up. But if he wipes a tear off his cheek as he pulls the door closed, well, it was deserved. He had a soft spot in his heart for that stupid kid. Sue him.

[cutter-kirby]

one of my favorite things to come out of the book of bill is all of the bill possessing ford content. like both in canon and in fanworks. bipper did something irrevocable to me back in 2014 but ciphord/bord is such a unique clusterfuck of possession horror and it haunts me.

[yeetusthemighty]

Huh I wonder what that blue glow is (spoilers under the cut)

oh.

(Decided to crop this one just in case anyone cared about spoilers)

full art here:

[child0feden]

i made it a little glittery ^w^

[agenderduck]

It deeply upsets me that there aren’t a lot of analysis posts off of Lesley, at least ones that don’t completely mischaracterize her. Often times Lesley is watered down to just being “Yellow’s Mom” by the fandom and nothing else. Lesley is tragic. She is not motherly, she’s a prisoner. A prisoner in a prison partially of her own design, but a prisoner nonetheless. matpat, and the david theory in general has rotted people’s brains. It’s fine to have an interpretation of a character, I could care less, but it’s an entirely different thing all together to completely miss the point of a character. Watching the line “you’re one of my favorites….” be brushed aside for what is otherwise a completely unserious line is infuriating. There’s no actual proof that Lesley is Yellow’s mother outside of theories. When she says “you’re not my real son” it’s more so in the way that she is the creator, and he is her creation, not that Lesley is actually an author, she just thinks she is. The trio represent parts of her, almost everything they do is by her hands. They’re miserable because Lesley is miserable. She believes herself to be an author, a creator, but she doesn’t hold any real power, just a small amount. Yellow didn’t scale the staircase on his own, everything was meticulously laid out by Lesley. Because, the truth is, he represents a part of Lesley that she has long since forgotten, the part of her that genuinely wants to change, to progress instead of regress. By giving yellow his batteries and bringing him up stairs, she is checking that she is still alive. That there is still that small part of her that can change.

But, as previously stated, she doesn’t have any real power, and she has no interest in truly changing. She has strings of her own, she can’t change even if she wanted to. Lesley has a tendency of setting up scenarios where the puppets are given a false sense of control. She does it with red in transport, and she does it again in electricity with yellow. In her mind she’s teaching them, teaching them that things cannot stray outside of what she has laid out for them. It’s her own twisted way of helping. Yellow, unlike red, possesses a genuine ability to question things and a natural curiosity. Lesley knows this. That’s precisely why his batteries are denied from him, unless Lesley hands them to him on a silver platter when convenient. Yellow has to pay the price of being constantly disoriented, to be in a constant state of confusion because if he isn’t then that would entail Lesley addressing what is pulling on her strings. The batteries are a threat to this cycle, hence why Lesley gifts him a book of false knowledge. A book of nothing. A red herring. She knows where that book is going, straight into the shredder as it always does. Where it should be. Because ever so slightly out of shot at the end of her room sits a door that creaks open every once in a while and she dare not question it. A door that she ignores as she continues on playing her piano as she always does. As it should be. No questions to be had. Just the keys of a piano echoing emptily in a dilapidated dollhouse, and the ghost of an artist who lost herself eons ago.

[macabre-crab]

the “do you think we’re friends in every lifetime?” trend but it’s young alicent asking young rhaenyra.

an image of a large wildflower appears, its leaves and roots spreading out. next to the wildflower, a daisy is being plucked from the ground and placed into a pot.

the next image is of a dire wolf, howling into the night. next to the wolf is a well groomed pet dog, a strong leash around its neck.

the next image is of a dragon soaring the skies, breathing fire. below the dragon is a small canary, being held in an equally small metal cage.

“i hope so,” replies rhaenyra.

[h-didanart]

Attempt 2, ahem

I am gonna give Sun comfort, one way or another, so

Disclaimer- I still haven’t watched any of the episodes, so stuff might be wrong

———

How dare you call yourself brother?

———

The Celestial’s household was within their line of sight.

Bloodmoon felt their eye twitch as they stalked towards the home.

Prior to this they had been practically glued to their phone, nervously waiting for Sol to do anything really. He had sent them an odd and panicked message which they had answered with various texts in rapid succession, none of which went through.

To say they had been worried would’ve been an understatement.

So the second they saw their texts go through and Solar start to type back, they were very relieved, thing that did not last long as Sol explained what had happened.

Him and the Celestial twins had been taken and put in a situation reminiscent to a horror movie, a choice of who lived and who died.

The Moon or That Guy.

And the Sun had the final say.

To them the answer would’ve been simple, but even they realized how truly awful that situation was for the sunny bot, as terrible as he was the Moon was his twin, and as awful as they’d gotten Nexus was his brother.

Still, the results did not shock them. Nexus died.

The details weren’t shared but however it happened they knew it loomed heavily over Sun’s head.

Though even knowing that, they wouldn’t have imagined themselves doing what they were doing right now.

They checked their phone again. Second floor, multiple windows.

Perfect

Bloodmoon turned back to the house, circling it until they spotted a blur of orange in one of the upper windows. They climbed up to the window, knocking gently on the glass as to not startle the room’s inhabitants with their entrance.

Solar turned to them, he would’ve probably had an annoyed or confused expression had they appeared like this any other time, but he just looked at them with exhaustion in his eyes. He unlocked the window, letting them into the house silently, silence they reciprocated as they spotted the yellow figure curled up on the bed.

It was a pathetic sight, the Sun-Man curled up into a ball, sniffling every now and then, clearly having been crying for a while. Something in their gut twisted as they watched him.

They turned to Solar, watching as he too observed the other bot.

“Where the hell is his other?”

They hadn’t meant to say that as harshly as they did, Sol flinched slightly and Sun sniffled more.

“He said he isn’t good with emotions and left to be in his lab”

They stared at Solar. There was anger in his eyes but also resignation, as if this had been an expected reaction.

They tightened their hands into fists, trying to keep their voice somewhat civil.

“What the fuck kind of excuse is that?”

Solar sighed, a hand on his face, and a slight shrug to his shoulders.

They knew Moon was awful, through their various expeditions to the idiot’s channel they had learned that much. But this level of awfulness was astounding.

He had insulted his brother, harmed him, hurt him, and now he was ignoring his clearly unwell state, what, because he didn’t know how to emotion? Such vileness, such cruelty, was one that should never be shown to those you claim to love.

They knew that. Why didn’t he?!

How come they felt more responsible over Sun’s feelings than Sun’s brother— Sun’s twin?!

They glared at the floor.

They had an idea. A terrible, impulsive, stupid, out of the blue, very idiotic idea. But an idea nevertheless.

Because it seemed like no one but Solar would bother to care for Sun. And the feelings in their gut were screaming at them to do something.

So, with care, they picked Sun up, slinging him over their shoulder, and turned to Solar so he could guide them outside.

Solar stared at them. Bloodmoon stared back.

Their intentions seemed to dawn on him soon enough, him looking reluctant but giving them directions in the end.

And so they walked off towards the house’s exit.

“Bloodmoon why are you in our house?”

Shit

They did not turn to face the bot who addressed them, they knew they couldn’t face him so soon.

“Why are you? Weren’t you busy in your lab or something?”

They tried and failed not to snarl. Sun tensed up on their grasp, they tried petting his back to calm him down.

“I forgot some tools, why are you carrying my brother like that?”

They scoffed. Brother. Yeah sure.

“Why do you care? You have the gall to ignore his cries but not him being taken to be treated better?”

Moon growled.

“You are not taking my brother anywhere”

They rolled their eyes.

“We are”

“How about,” Solar interrupted, “I go with them and—“

“No!” Moon yelled, all three of them flinching at his tone.

“I am not letting the serial killer take my brother, not even if you promise to keep them leashed and docile!”

They grumbled to themselves at the other bot’s word usage.

“Just for a few hours?” Solar tried to appease the lunar bot, Bloodmoon slowly inching closer to the stairs.

“Well, it’s not like he’s doing much anyways,” a different voice, Lunar’s, said.

“And why are you on their side?!”

They got closer to the stairs.

“I’m not, but I’m also not against them”

Closer.

“You’re fine with Bloodmoon being around Sun?! When Sun is like that?”

Oh so now you care?!

Let’s keep the sass to ourselves, we can’t fuck this up more

They descended the stairs, trying to walk quietly to the door.

“If there’s a single scratch on him I’ll tear you apart,” the Moon snarled at them.

They scowled, reaching for the door. The urge to scream back at the asshole was great, but they knew better, Sun was still in their arms, and he was probably listening in to this all.

They sighed, mumbling quietly to themselves as they walked out the door, Solar following close behind.

[bonefall]

Better Bones: CW List

Better Bones is not a project that aims to fix canon by making the Clans wholesome and unproblematic. Though there can be fun and kindness in it and my philosophy is an optimistic one, It's not an escapist fantasy. It is a story about semi-realistic cats of human intelligence in a violent, war-obsessed theocratic dictatorship, and how they attempt to change it over the years.

Clan Culture is flawed, that is on purpose. Addressing and changing this is what the story is about.

Please refer back to my main post, where it is explicitly stated that my goal is to "Address (Canon's) Problematic Elements." Not remove.

Better Bones contains themes and/or depictions of the following;

Physical and emotional abuse; Domestic, authoritative, and familial

Child abuse and inter-generational trauma

Kidnapping and indoctrination of children

Somewhat graphic medical discussion, such as abortion, wound infection, and the use of leeches and maggots

The killing and processing of small animals into food, including tanning and butchery

Semi-realistic cat behaviors, specifically marking things with urine

Ableism; both externalized and internalized. Sometimes this leads to death by violence or medical neglect, other times characters simply grapple with mistreatment.

Xenophobia; to a violent degree, including stochastic terrorism, hate crime, and discrimination

^^^ read that one again. Consider that on this list twice.

Politics; Authoritarianism, fascism, and liberalism as an enemy, discussion of dog whistles and ideology

"Redemption arcs" of certain people who did bad things

Cosmic horror and supernatural curses

Graphic violence, including against innocent bystanders, through assault, poisoning, drowning, falling, being eaten alive by large fish and demigods, and occasionally attacking bulldozers

Animal abuse; Human beings harming cats on purpose and Clan cats generally being terrified of people

Clan cats, both villainous and culturally mislead, glorifying these things in-universe, not immediately staring at the camera and breaking character to tell you "This Is A Bad Thing!"

Keep in mind that you will encounter these topics while browsing this project. I would at minimum rate this project as PG-13, but PG-16 would be a more accurate bet.

I have sympathy for you if these are not topics you can handle. My project tackles very upsetting real-world issues and not everyone is looking for something challenging; that's understandable and there's no fault in that. I try to tag appropriately, and would never drop anything VERY gruesome without a warning, but I can't promise to catch everything. Please keep yourself safe.

There are other, softer projects out there run by cool people if this is not for you, and you can add #Better Bones AU to your tag filters and this project will not show up! But, I'm not responsible for your comfort with my art.

If you followed me under the assumption that BB is "Warriors without any ableism/xenophobia/violence" you were mistaken. If you don't have the maturity to act responsibly when something upsets you, or DO have the malice to read a disabled person's work with the most bad faith interpretations you can muster, leave.