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#but i sometimes get so so so tired
sutille · 11 months
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gals. I'm tired.
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captainkirkk · 1 year
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I want to see characters being taken care of in an explicit and worshipful way. Home-cooked meals. Hair brushed and braided by gentle hands. Little gifts just because.
I want to read about characters who are not used to kindness being bombarded by acts of service. This trope works romantically and platonically. Give me found family and acts of service - all the ways a character is wrapped up in wordless, explicit care after years of cruelty and having no idea how to handle. I need it.
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creekfiend · 1 year
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God I'm so tired of people acting like not wanting to attract a lot of (often negative) attention is somehow Capitulating To Bigots like. The other day I was talking to someone about my strategic deployment of pronouns based on how much of an issue I think a person is likely to make about it and they were like "oh I just do what I want I'm done catering to cis people" and I was like BUDDY. I LIVE IN THE RURAL SOUTH WANTING TO NOT HAVE TO CONSTANTLY GET INTO IT WITH PEOPLE ABOUT MY PERSONAL GENDER IDENTITY IS NOT CATERING TO CIS PEOPLE I HAVE A RIGHT TO WANT TO MOVE THROUGH THE WORLD WITHOUT CONSTANT INTERPERSONAL CONFLICT
Or like I was talking about how I hate swimwear options bc they're all revealing but if you choose to wear like, a t shirt and shorts, people still stare at you because that's socially unusual so it sucks either way and someone was like "I just do it anyway and if people don't like it they can die mad about it" and like... okay. I want to be able to go to the local pool and not either be uncomfortable with what I'm wearing or have people treat me weird about it. I would like for my presence and clothing choices to be considered neutral and it's fine for me to state that actually. This is not assimilationist or capitulating to people. It's going "hm I would love if stepping out my front door didn't have to be a revolutionary act!!!!!" Agghhhhh
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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I wonder how many times Clark and the batkids + Alfred revived Bruce with the Lazarus Pit and just never told him abt it
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nonomives · 1 year
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Heeeey I think I got a better challenge or idea for you! Also I loved the filipense version of welcome home! 🤩 they all look stunning! How about a Circus AU for Welcome Home?
*DEEP FUCKING INHALES*
Oh my y. G O O D N E S S
hold on hold on hold on Omg ur so right hold on
Ok so excuse the fact that the picture looks like its been taken by a bank's security camera
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Also some bits of a story i put together like last night while brainrotting over this concept
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Smthn smthn, im gonna make Frank suffer angst hjgxwgsdjged
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brielyasmin · 10 months
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“ 𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒊𝒏, 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌. 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆, 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅— 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆. 𝑷𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏, 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑫𝒊𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂𝒔 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒘, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒚𝒆 — 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝑹𝒉𝒚𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 … 𝑯𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑫𝒊𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔 — 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒆’𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒎. 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦. ”
for @elucienweekofficial
find my art.
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sunlit-mess · 16 days
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I can only take so much, but lately, they have replaced my reflection. And realize I'm just as bad as them.
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monkeybebop · 2 months
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They are in love guys, I promise
Nacho’s just waiting for Lalo to stfu
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lovesickeros · 6 months
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.
It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.
Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.
She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.
She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.
Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.
And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.
She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.
So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.
Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.
..A dangerous prize, too.
She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.
"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.
He looked out of breath, she noted.
The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.
He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.
"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."
Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.
But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.
So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.
If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.
Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.
What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..
The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.
So if not the prophecy, then what?
Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.
She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.
..A draw, perhaps.
The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.
She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.
Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.
She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.
She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.
"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."
All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.
With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.
Each piece had it's purpose.
Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.
She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.
It was almost too easy.
She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.
The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.
She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.
With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.
Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.
She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.
Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.
The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.
Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.
She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.
"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..
Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.
It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.
She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.
And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.
She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.
"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"
Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..
The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!
"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."
Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.
"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"
..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.
She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.
"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.
Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."
Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.
"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?
She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?
"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."
The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.
"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"
Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.
"Have you no answer?"
The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.
Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.
"I will kill them myself."
Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.
"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."
They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.
"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"
Did she?
"Will you help me?"
She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.
"..Yes."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#arlecchino#lyney#furina#you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew#anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks#also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth#furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road#arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11#shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay#hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS#ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies#anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D#also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty#bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay#they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more#a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)
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findingcrow · 7 months
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I would really like to remind everyone that it’s canon (we didn’t make this up. We didn’t have to make this up Flanagan made it canon for us) that everyone just. Accepts that Will is Halt’s son. Gilan says that even though he and Halt will always be close, Halt and Will’s relationship is much closer and is father & son like. Pauline treats Will as her son. Horace sees Will as his brother and Halt as his uncle. Everyone sees Will and Halt and are like “this man. This man has adopted a child” which is so funny to me because imagine you’re in araluen and you see Greybeard halt who never smiles with his happy son who doesn’t shut up (AND they’re the same height). Flanagan does a lot wrong in the series but making Halt see Will as his son and the found family aspects are NOT one
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todayisafridaynight · 6 months
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#rgg#ryu ga gotoku#ryu ga gotoku 7#yakuza series#yakuza like a dragon#yakuza 7#masato arakawa#ryo aoki#snap sketches#AH jumpscare#i aint drawn aoki or masato (funny as hell i have to distinguish) in forever BYYYYYEE i miss him. i want him to be even more dead#my favorite genre of masato art is aoki killnig him so its my turn to do that. kinda. in spirit#Understandably its always aoki as the aggressor but i wanted to ask myself Can I Flip It#evidently aoki wasnt happy even with all of his power and all.. it makes me wonder how much his self hatred exists in aoki#A LOT EVIDENTLY LMAOOO but im having issues trying to articulate what i mean#aoki is very much a persona Fake Through And Through so sometimes i wonder if aoki ever gets tired of having to act all the time#he's on edge all the time and constantly trying to figure out how to use people instead of just. chilling LMAO GROW UP#he refuses to let himself be genuine and vulnerable with others yet at the same time he wants the love that comes with that#sure his new persona gives him the life he wanted but its gotta be wild to think 'people only like me for what i can do for them'#its hard to accurately describe what i was thinking while drawing these i just know i like rattling masato in a can#there's just so many layers to him it makes my brain itch SOOOO bad#having the love and sincerity he said he always wanted but not being able to see it because of his own self hatred... wild...#relatable... im gonna throw up... he still sucks tho lol......#ok bye im gonna contemplate drawing something moody cause i guess it's a moody sunday idk sue me
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hualianisms · 18 days
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something i find tragic and messed up is how XL's worst trauma and HC's worst trauma are the same event - XL being stabbed 100 times. why that was traumatic for XL is self-explanatory. for HC, witnessing that was so traumatic that it single-handedly turned him into a supreme ghost king. it was the trauma of being powerless, watching his beloved go through hell unable to do a thing to stop it.
this trauma directly parallels HC's original childhood trauma, of being powerless as a child who couldn't defend himself from his bullies and abusers. he hates himself and judges himself very harshly for being "weak" as a child, blaming himself for his own trauma. just see the way he treats e'ming (who i believe represents the emotions of his child self), the way he drew himself in his mural, and the way he treated the statue of hong hong-er in the extras, and you can guess how HC views his child self.
HC's trauma response was to spend 800 years becoming the strongest possible, extremely wealthy and powerful so that he can protect and provide for his beloved the way he never could when he was a human kid or a small ghost. he also wanted to be as strong as possible so that he never has to feel like that "weak" child again. the trauma of powerlessness truly shapes so much of HC's personality
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clownsuu · 9 months
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I finally have some free time to draw sketches and tell you about my headcannons with (young) Harvey and Dr. Stone!! 💥💥
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The first headcanon: Harvey really likes to touch Stone's funny sticking-out hair with his antennae (I have no idea what to call it lol). OF COURSE, Dr. Stone gets angry, and Harvey just giggles and watches him—
The second headcanon: I thought it would be funny if Dr. Stone had (and maybe still has) a secret hobby of collecting minerals and stones. it's pretty funny that a sullen and angry dude collects and examines all sorts of stones, and then writes something in his book, muttering something under his nose. if Harvey somehow found out about his husband's hobby, he could throw him beautiful stones while he was going somewhere.
The third headcanon: Harvey loves hugging Dr. Stone very much, when he does this, this old fart immediately starts to get angry and swear, but after 15-20 minutes calms down and falls asleep. maybe Harvey does this on purpose so that his husband at least sometimes gets a full sleep
(not) Old people,,,,
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dizzyspice717 · 4 months
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Imagine you’re Bruce Wayne, you’re parents are killed in a regular mugging so you decide to devote your life to catching those criminals so no one goes through what you go through
AND THEN THE JOKER AND A BUNCH OF FUCKING OTHER PEOPLE INCLUDING SOME FRIENDS BECOME SUPER VILLAINS
so instead of spending your time catching small time thugs and corporate scams, you gotta deal with a clown serial killer and the rest of the circus.
Id be so pissed
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thebrainrotsreal · 26 days
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FINALLYYYYYY. My guys of the jury, this has a tracked 30 damn hours and boy does it feel like it. ANYWAYS, I return for more AU shenanigans because Get Redeemed Loser AU lives in my head rent free. Felt like a nice way to experiment with more vertical style comics? Which is SM EASIER TO PANEL THAN CLASS LAYOUTS. I get why they're so much more common nowadays. Comic,,, so satisfying but at what cost,,, i'm tired. So proud of the top half tho :3.
Okay back to AU brainrot, Mark and Wasp fighting over one of their core differences! I think this is early in their relationship where Mark still thinks Wasp can at least understand what it's like being Nolan's son, only to get smacked in the face with how pride Wasp holds in that title. Anyways, look below to see my suffering made into video.
local artist redoes like 4 damn panels 8 bajillion times and screams into the sky ♡ also if you want fic of this au you should read the fic that @avisisisis wrote about it, ooooo you wanna read it so bad, it's good :3
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crybaby-bkg · 28 days
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wanna bug Toji soooo bad while he’s on the phone. his ass doesn’t have a job so it’s not like he’s discussing important business, but he likes to make it look that way. phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he uses one hand to rub circles on your exposed thigh, the other flipping through the tv channels. he’s speaking in a low tone, his eyebrows mused together in agitation as he calls the guy on the other line a barrage of insulting names.
and you’re just a simple person—the man looks hot as fuck like that and you just have to bother him. so you do, despite the side eye he gives you when you swing your leg over, foot in the air, right in his face. he swats you away gently before going back to his phone call, bites at your toes when you still try to wiggle them in his face.
"If you think you can lowball me like that, then you're stupider than I thought." Toji grunts to the other man on the phone, distracted once more. a little peeved that his attention isn't on you much anymore, you do what any little conniving imp would do.
you sit on his lap. backwards, facing the TV, looking over your shoulder at him with such an evil little grin that it makes his eyes squint to you in warning. but you've never listened much, especially when you know you'll be rewarded so plentifully in the end.
so you rock your hips, just slightly the first few times. your legs sat on either side of him, hands resting in the space between his legs on the bed, leaning your weight back on his hips that you sit against. instantly, you can feel the swell of him beneath his sweats, feel the thickness that you love to fill you up start to twitch when you circle your hips, grinding them oh so slowly against his covered cock.
when you look over your shoulder again, Toji only stares, the slightest lilt of his lip turning up at the corners. he tries to act unbothered, one arm bent back to rest his head against, the other holding the phone to his ear. but you can see through him, and feel just how bothered he really is.
so you up the ante; start to lift and drop your hips slow, slow, slow at first before the pace begins to build. you lean forward on your elbows, pull your underwear up until the curve of your ass is exposed, gasping from the friction, from the feeling of his cock rubbing so sweetly at your slit through the thin cotton.
you look over your shoulder once more, grinning, biting at your lip as you grind against him, close to completion. he can see it all in your eyes.
"Gonna call you back later. Got some important shit to take care of right now." Toji hangs up without preamble, gaze distant as he focuses on the ever growing spot of your arousal that starts to leak onto his own sweats.
but you're a little minx, with the way you scramble from his grasp before he can catch you, laughing when he snags your ankle to drag you back down. he's suddenly kneeling over you, grin sharp and ferocious, the straining of his cock through his sweats hanging so intimidatingly low, that if you lift your hips just a little, his tip would kiss your clit in the sweetest kiss.
"And where do you think you're going, you little brat?" Toji growls, dropping down to nip at the base of your neck, licking over your pulse point.
"Not letting me off the hook that easy, huh?" you tease, hands splayed beside your head in surrender, just wanting a little bit of the chase before the devouring. and by the look in his eyes, you know you'll only be bones by morning.
"Not in a million years." he promises right before the inevitable pounce.
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