#queue the moon and back

[luckyy19]

Four days ago, after leaving his disastrous conversation with Viola and electing to never think of it again, he burst into Adrian’s quaint third-story office that had once been Cyrus’s bedroom and disrupted what appeared to be a very important meeting. The men in suits turned in outrage, practically spitting in their fury, but Adrian simply flicked his wrist and told them to disperse. “This had better be important,” Adrian said, prepared to continue regaling Cyrus with tales of his own stupidity, but something passed over his face and he stood, circling to the front of the too large desk in the too small room, and took Cyrus’ chin in his hands.

His fingers had been cold. It was the only thing Cyrus could focus on as his brother touched him in anything other than reprimand for the first time in years. Adrian tilted his head this way and that until Cyrus finally blinked out of his stupor to recoil away from those long, thin fingers he knew as well as his own. They were his own. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t look well,” Adrian had said. “You didn’t look like this last night.”

“I met up with Viola after the—”

Adrian scoffed, expression souring. “Well, that certainly explains it. Drink too much, did you? Still hunting for the edge of the cliff?”

“Beckham is dead,” he had said. Viola’s beratement came from a place of grief, he knew that, and he allowed it until she gave him the room to retaliate. It was a give and a take, a dance as much as a fight. Adrian did not pick fights he didn’t win, and Cyrus still had the reminder hidden in his hair of why he should not protest in his own defense.

Adrian froze halfway to sitting. “I’m sorry, I believe I misheard you.”

“Beckham Silver is dead,” he repeated. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know.” He was standing now, gripping the back of his chair like a lifeline. Hurt flashed in his eyes. Cyrus still couldn’t decide if it was genuine days later, and the internal debate made him sick. What monsters we’ve become. “Do you think I’d have kept it from you if I did?” Cyrus shrugged, noncommittal, and flicked a piece of lint from his shoulder.

[restinsodaroni]

They are making a Moon nightlight now, I’m sure Moon isn’t gonna be thrilled about that lol

Here it is! It’s so cute!

I’m going to need another shelf at this rate lol

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Sun: Your mental breakdown is imminent.

Eclipse: I solve it with Pop Tarts and Cheez-Its.

Sun: …

Sun: That doesn’t even make any sense.

Eclipse: It’s a mental breakdown, does it have to make sense?

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[eyndr-stories]

Totally swamped from school & moving nonsense but rest assured, these silly robots still consume my every spare thought <3

[transcendragon]

Mermaid Moon - I’ve drawn a phoenix, griffons, dragons, serpents, and unicorns, as well as number of strange glowing and/or giant creatures. So I decided to try my hand at a mermaid!

My original art made in Procreate, image deception in alt.

[tarmac-rat]

Sorry for not posting a lot of Cyberpunk at the moment. I think I just finally hit the "Jesus Christ, I'm sick of this shit" threshold in terms of both the game and, frankly, the state of the fandom at large.

[luckyy19]

Orion wandered the halls, lost for a much shorter time than the last. It was the sight of Gideon’s door, conspicuously marked with a bronze falcon hanging from a nail, that set him on the right track. He made it all the way to the end of the hall before he paused. He nearly forgot his strange encounter with Damien, but now it wouldn’t leave his mind.

He should check. Just to be sure.

Orion peeked inside but didn’t linger. It was obvious no one was there. Worry swelled in his chest and he shoved it away. He was angry with Gideon. What did he care where the king spent his night?

Even to himself, he was a terrible liar.

His own room had no such issue. Upon entering, it was clear Gideon hadn’t left. A fire burned low in the hearth, barely illuminating the shape on the settee. Long legs stretched across its length, an elbow propped on the upholstered arm, a head resting against a palm. For a brief moment, Orion feared the king was dead. But his shoulders rose and fell in an even rhythm. Not dead. Only asleep.

“Gideon?” Orion padded further inside. Gideon did not rise. He nudged the king’s shoulder, which earned him only a furrowed brow and unintelligible muttering.

He should wake him. He could vent his frustrations, get some answers. Throw him out and maybe get some sleep is he could quiet his racing mind.

I’ve spent long enough around Gideon to know his mind.

Orion dropped the game onto a bedside table with a clatter. He retrieved one of the many blankets from his bed and laid it gently over Gideon. He stirred but did not wake, unconsciously wrapping the fur around his sleeping form. Like this, buried under a blanket and with none of the lines etched into his brow, he looked vulnerable. Breakable. It sent a jolt of fear through Orion. They were all so breakable and all he knew was how to swing a hammer.

If a sword snapped, he could fix it. People were not so easily mended.

[astragatwo]

Little creature

[restinsodaroni]

So, does Moon wear reading glasses when telling the kiddos stories? I bet he'd look adorable in glasses!

This was the only way I could figure out how Moon could wear glasses 😅

[jeonwiixard]

eid Mubarak!!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Lunar: Abso-bitching-lutely.

Moon: It’s ‘abso-fucking-lutely’, Lunar.

Lunar: Oh I know. but I was talking to Eclipse, the local bitch who bitches all the bitching time.

Sun: Ooookay, you’re over your cursing limit for the day, please hug your plushie, Lunar.

[lilhottieart]

I call this “a list of women who raised me” mothers if you will

[seventh-district]

.

[silverraes]

I'm being so serious, someone on EU servers be my comp partner(s), I can't do these solo queue shenanigans anymore

[luckyy19]

Gideon’s thumb swept across the expanse of skin beneath her eye. His brow furrowed and she was worried he’d found some fault with her, something unworthy of his attention. But when he spoke, it didn’t break her heart in the way she expected.

“Do you blame me?” he asked and he was too steady, too cogent, but there was that bottle and this side of Gideon she’d never seen. Drink didn’t make you someone new, only revealed depths best kept hidden. What demons were locked in Gideon’s chest?

Cressida recoiled from his heat and his closeness and the overwhelming scent of him. “For what?”

“For the deaths, and the marriage, and the rape.” He spat the word like poison. “For my despair, my cowardice, the months I spent trapped inside my own head with her voice—” Gideon broke off abruptly. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare break whatever spell had convinced him to bare his heart to her.

His voice, when it came, was very small. Smaller than a king’s should ever be. “When will I stop being punished for actions I was manhandled into?” he asked, looking to her with pleading eyes. “My brothers blame me for my misery, as though I caused it. My people blame me for crimes I didn’t commit. And I have to live every day in this skin, with these bones, and apologize until my mouth bleeds. I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what’s been done.” Gideon swiped at tears she couldn’t make out. “How much penance is enough?”