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inkskinned · 7 months

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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

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egophiliac · 5 months

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I have SO many thoughts about everything and they are in no kind of order yet, so here's just some quick little bits in the meantime!

I am not normal about any of these characters!

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 6 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 6 spoilers #me just staring at the ceiling thinking about anime characters #if i start talking about the big stuff now it's going to turn into a huge rambling mess so in the meantime #i did not get sebek (yet) (i need to contemplate my gems...) but i did see his groovy #he is just full-on cinderella-sparkles bibbidi-bobbidi-booing into that armor! magnificent.#and i really don't have enough words for how much i love tiny malleus. he is perfect. he is precious. he is everything to me.#he knows who his dad is no matter what some crusty dead talking ectoplasm blobs say #(man no wonder lilia's got hangups if THAT was the general attitude he was getting)#('eww you got your dirty bat cooties on the prince' go sit in the corner with mrs. rosehearts you absolute garbage)#(...i did kind of love that lilia started to wake up because the senate said one nice thing to him)#(and he immediately was like 'this is not reality')#(sounds about right)#on a lighter note i was just. SO charmed by the little throwaway about ✨dragon lord consort esteemed diplomat revaan✨#who picks the vegetables out of his food and hides them under the tablecloth #everything i learn about this man makes me like him more. he was SO dumb.#now we know where malleus gets it from i guess #also unrelated but once again the fact that i named my mc tamago has had unintentional consequences #tamago take the tamago and tamago tamagao tamago #frikkin love that when yuu gives the egg back you can just be like 'i love him. this is my baby now.' 100% accurate.#also yuu continually referring to malleus as tsunotarou even to the senate = amazing. yuu really has NO self-preservation or awareness.#they fit right in with everyone else #<- see what did i tell you. huge rambling mess.#and i haven't even BEGUN to talk about MELEANOR -- (is dragged offstage by a hook)

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beybuniki · 8 days

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they should go on a fishing trip pt.1

#DONT COMMENT ON THE BACKGROUND I KNOWWWWWWWWWWWW #anyway this is day 1. they take a bus. the bakugo household has fishing gear so ´deku is wearing bakugo's onesoe (?) and bakugo is wearing #his dad's. and notices he has grown :')#anyway they take a BUS and don't feel like doing this at all it's awkward for so many reason #also trying to relax after everything is neurologically just really hard they might be hyperivgilant dik #and there's so much they never got to unpack bnut they have to and they have to start somewhere and with someone #deku makes that flower crown while bakugo preps everything and they both look at it and are thrown back into their childhood 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️#and at first they just sit and wait for the bavarian fish to bite (rody should make a cameo tbh) but then bakugo breaks the iceeee.#and he starts with their moms because their moms have been such a stubbron connection between these two :')#and deku answers with the usual 'good :) how's your mom :)?' and to everyone's surprise he actually opens up #and tells deku about his mom's insomnia because she watched her son die (that shit was live streamed tpo 10 bnha tweets btw)#idk i love to think of their moms being a very easy subject to connect through i think it's easier for them that way to be more vulnerablei #and then some fish biteeeeeeeeeeee #but like 3 small ones so they have to gather berries and mushrooms and make stew (dw there's an aldi this is bavaria after all)#but yeah day 1 is a bit weird like it's just them in the woods with no distractions #which is so different from whatever went on during their 1st year of high school #don't read this i will throw up i just need this somewhere this is my public scrapbook #bnha #deku #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #the flower crown on their knees makes this a bit homosexual but fishing is always homosexual im not fighting against that #au:#fishing

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brookheimer · 11 months

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shiv was not being altruistic nor intellectually self-interested when she voted against kendall. that was pure raw visceral desperation to maintain some semblance of dignity that she felt kendall being ceo would shred her of. sometimes people do not act in other people’s best interests or their own best interests. sometimes people do the wrong thing for the wrong reasons just because it feels like the right, the only, thing to do. shiv could not let kendall be ceo. she just couldn’t. not because she wanted to sacrifice herself to “stop the cycle,” not because she made a calculation and decided tom was her best interest — because the thought of kendall being ceo and acting like That the rest of their lives when shiv earned that job, she fucking earned it, that was too much to fucking bear. watching him sit in dad’s chair, conduct that vote, grin with entitlement and cockiness and certainty — seeing that elicited a visceral painful all-consuming sensation not dissimilar to overwhelming nausea that, summed up in two words, would simply be: fuck. no. she couldn’t live with that. she just couldn’t. it’s not kind. it’s not smart. it’s just human. painfully, destructively human. because sometimes, that’s all there is to it. not just for shiv, but for everyone. god knows roman and kendall have had those same feelings, made those same self-destructing yet necessary-feeling decisions throughout the show. why does it have to be different for shiv? why can’t she be painfully destructively human, prone to impulsive ill-conceived viscerally felt actions, like everyone else? why are we incapable of allotting her the same nuance and humanity (the good and the bad), the same trauma-informed self-destructive life-ruining hamartias, as we do her brothers? why can’t we fit a whole woman in our heads?

#very surprised to see so many ‘shiv stopped the cycle on purpose blah blah blah’ takes like that didn’t even cross my mind as a motivation #of hers #it wasn’t calculated — i mean kendall winning would be to her benefit in terms of power and respect. that would be best for her #it wasn’t just jealousy or anything either; it wasn’t a coherent thought or plan #it was just I Can’t Fucking Do This #i can’t sit there while he smiles like that when he sits in dad’s chair and hisses that’s fucking right under his breath when someone votes #his way. not when that job was fucking MINE. it was MINE. i can’t- i can’t fucking do it #it’s about preservation of emotional dignity #it’s about self-respect #it’s ironic though because there are few things more undignified and less respected than being a quiet betrayed trophy wife to a weak ceo #husband who earned his position even less than kendall #but she’s not thinking clearly. she’s not Thinking. she just acted because there was this visceral need to act #succession #succession spoilers #shiv roy #100 #500 #casey shut the fuck up about shiv roy #1000

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thisisadonaldduckblognow · 11 months

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all the rise boys get done dirty on characterization by fandom in different ways i think. (not ALL the time every fanwork etc etc these are just like, trends i tend to notice?) every fandom suffers from losing character nuance.

- leo i’ve talked about plenty on this blog, how some of his canon traits (genuine belief in his skill and cockiness, capacity for joy, his manipulativeness whether for good or ill) seem to get watered down or wiped off the board and supplemented with generic sad boy. his struggles with purpose and identity and not wanting to fail somehow morph into ��he hates and completely holds no value for himself��

- donnie’s canon personality gets blurred out and largely replaced with whatever list of Neurodivergent Traits. and i think there’s such a fine line to walk between exploring a character that’s been word of god confirmed as on the spectrum and overwriting what’s canonically there. it’s a hard needle to thread. it also feels like a lot of his canon emotiveness gets left off the table for some reason. bc he does have his moments of flat/deadpan delivery, but a lot of the time he’s honestly very emotive. he has the passion of a theatre kid and the vindictiveness of... also a theatre kid. and the mind of a scientist.

- raph loses so much of his rowdy teen boy energy it’s kind of wild? like interpretations sand off that he’s also impulsive and can be reckless and dumb and LOVES fighting and roughhousing and isn’t the most eloquent person. suddenly there’s this pitch perfect soft boy big bro who would never hurt a fly and always says the exact right supportive thing and singlehandedly raised his 3 brothers (which simultaneously sands off all the nuance of splinter’s issues emotionally connecting with his sons and how that affected all of them). and like i LOVE raph, he’s so full of love and care and anxiety, he clearly has learned to put a lot of work into being aware of his strength and size. but there’s a difference you know?

- mikey is like. where raph gets overparentified by fanon, mikey gets over “family therapist”-ed IMO. the impulsiveness, the goofiness, the powerful emotions including a VERY powerful temper, the flat-out dumb teen boy choices... they get ignored. suddenly there’s this only very sweet and earnest boy who has read a hundred psychology books and runs group family therapy weekly or something. he is crying in his room bc leo and raph are arguing about something. which is so. he IS very sweet and can be very earnest and is full of love! he HAS come in with his opinions and unsolicited advice a couple of times and life coached for the greater good. but there’s a difference between what he does in canon and the role he gets in fanon.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #idk this is not a very eloquent rundown its very hard to explain exactly my vibe #ig the long story short is i feel like a lot of their most interesting and fun qualities get left in the dust #mikey as family therapist is getting under my skin the most rn i think its just so.#for as much as it seems like his brothers try to shelter him (esp raph with his overprotectiveness)..... i just dont see it #i dont see his brothers and definitely not his dad putting their issues on him like that...#him dragging donnie into that one dr feelings session and dragging draxum into a new moral alignment were different #than 'yeah everyone tells mikey their stuff and he has to do the labor of helping with it'#like it just doesnt vibe for me #i think he is very emotionally OPEN on all levels compared to his family #i think he is more likely to share when HE struggles #i dont think raph or leo is sitting with him at 3am like 'it all started when i was 4 and accidentally broke a plate' or what have you idk #it's all so ymmv i do just scroll past stuff i dont vibe with i dont drop hate on it i just #idk dudes its so hard to see the appeal in some of the choices made

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freckleslikestars · 10 months

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(some of) my favourite lines from The X Files 5.12 Bad Blood

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enidtendo64 · 5 months

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Very late Jackieshauna Halloween 🎃 from the wips!

#the way this has been sitting in the wips for a monthish now #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #jackieshauna #yellowjackets #my art #doodles #little Jackie and Shauna wanting to be Bonnie and Clyde is like….a sign. of future insanity #Jackie is wearing socks with her moms heels bc her legs get cold and Shauna is using her dad’s old suit #just little babies destroying their parents wardrobe for Halloween #when they’re older they get better fitting outfits lol Jackie is a big fan of suspender Shauna

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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Were starving for Barnaby x Howdy father...were starving for it/hj

here is some food child.... you're safe now....

#i forgot this has been sitting on my sketch page for Three Days #i then i read the word 'father' and the dad friend in me Activated #i am putting a baseball cap on and donning shorts as i type #tis i... father....#jokes aside AUGH THEM THEM THEM THEM #in my mind they're like... hiding in a storage closet or something #not for any particular reason they're just sneaking around for fun #but theyre both just So Silly that they cant stop giggling like lovestruck morons #THEY MAKE ME EMOTIONALLLLLLLLLLLLL LOOK AT THEMMMMM #scribble salad #rambles from the bog #welcome home #laughingstock #barnaby x howdy #howdy x barnaby #hm. thinking about how easily barnaby must be able to hold howdys waist #that is going to be Constantly in my brain now #big paws... slim waist... like puzzle pieces....#oughhhhhh blain dramage

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lovesickeros · 5 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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mamawasatesttube · 3 months

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“You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.” with timkon maybe :) the sillies

The Batcave is draftier than Tim remembers it being.

He’s gotten used to his setup in his apartment building’s basement, and it’s a couple of degrees warmer over there. Probably because of the giant computer sans an entire cave to heat up.

Oh, well. That’s what capes are for. Particularly the ones made of blankets. And also thick, fuzzy socks. And fluffy pajamas stolen from Dick’s drawer (it’s not like he’s touched it in ages, since he’s off in New York, but Tim still hopes he’ll notice the theft and be indignant about it eventually).

Cold water drips from his hair onto the back of his neck, and he shivers. Scowls at the keyboard in front of him. He took such a nice, hot shower immediately after Kon got him back—getting tossed into the harbor in midwinter sucks—but the draftiness down here doesn’t care.

“Thanks for the tea, Alfred,” Kon says, somewhere behind him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get the dishes? I really don’t mind—“

“Certainly not, young Mister Kent.” Alfred sounds almost fond. Kon’s got Ma Kent’s country manners drilled into his head; Tim has to admit it’s pretty cute. “You are a guest in this house. It would hardly be proper. Besides which, you’ve already helped me plenty by ensuring I don’t need to dig any bullets out of Master Timothy tonight.”

Tim resents that. He wasn’t in any danger of getting shot—okay, no more than usual, anyways. He was a lot more in danger from the guys who managed to chain a cinder block to his ankle and then threw him off a boat. However, since he’s a paragon of maturity and not an insufferable pedant, he elects to finish typing up his stupid mission summary while it’s still fresh in his mind, instead of arguing.

And then, the strangest thing happens:

Alfred squawks.

There’s a clatter of porcelain and a whoosh of air, and Tim whips around just in time to see Kon, holding Alfred’s tea tray in one hand, catch Krypto by the cape with the other.

“Dude!” Kon scolds. Krypto’s tail wags a mile a minute. “You can’t just do that outside the house! What is wrong with you? Oh, man, Mr. Alfred, I’m so sorry, he’s never done that to anyone but Pa before—”

…What did Krypto do?

Alfred scrubs the back of his neck with a daintily-folded pocket handkerchief, his face is filled with disgust. He examines the handkerchief, mustache quivering with indignance, and then sighs. “I do hope this is just regular slobber and not some sort of super-related variant."

Krypto barks once, excited, and prances in a circle around Kon’s hips, wrapping his cape around Kon until Kon sighs and lets go.

Tim—

Tim wheezes.

Krypto just silently snuck up and licked the back of Alfred’s neck?! And—and he used to do that to Pa Kent? Does he just have a thing for licking old guys on the neck or something? Or is he replacing one old guy with another, now that Pa’s dead? And he’s so pleased with himself now, sitting back on his haunches in midair like he expects a treat!

Tim laughs so hard his stomach hurts. Every time he thinks he’s gotten ahold of himself again, his mind just flashes back to the look of utter revulsion on Alfred’s face, and he loses it all over again.

By the time he catches his breath, Alfred has vanished, tray and all. He’s probably upstairs muttering derogatory things about dogs. Kon and Krypto, however, are still here; Krypto’s inspecting the crumbs on the floor where Alfred nearly dropped the tea tray, and Kon…

Kon is staring, the tenderest smile Tim has ever seen on his lips.

Oh. Um. Tim’s cheeks heat. “…What?” he huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “That was funny, okay!”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m not disputing that,” Kon says absently. He’s still looking at Tim with that soft, adoring smile. “You just, uh… you haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.”

What.

Tim opens his mouth. Closes it again. Looks away, face burning. “Oh, come on. I’m sure I’ve laughed recently. Pretty sure I laughed after you fished me out of the harbor.”

“Yeah, but that was all, like, sarcastic and ‘ooh, look, I’m making jokes because I nearly just drowned in the smelliest harbor on the planet’, not ‘cuz anything was actually funny.”

Kon closes the distance between them and rests a hand fondly atop Tim’s head. His smile fades, slightly, and his hand slides down to cup Tim’s chin, tipping his face up. Blushing or not, Tim meets his gaze and holds it steadily, raising an eyebrow.

Kon just tilts his head ever so slightly, the same way Krypto does. He looks a little contemplative. That’s new; he never used to be nearly this introspective before. Dying and getting resurrected probably does something to a guy’s psyche, Tim supposes, but he wouldn’t know.

And then Kon asks, “Rob… Have you actuallylaughed at anything since I died?”

He may as well have just sucker-punched Tim in the gut. All the breath whooshes right out of Tim’s lungs. “I… I’m sure I have. I must have,” he says, and frowns. He can’t really think of anything that made him feel particularly light in the past year and then some, but… just because he can’t remember doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Statistically, he had to have laughed properly at something, right?

Kon lets go of his chin to ruffle his hair. “Man,” he says, and sighs, dropping onto an invisible chair at Tim’s side. He’s close enough that their thighs press together; Kon’s a solid line of warmth against Tim’s body. He tosses his feet up onto an invisible footrest and folds his arms behind his head, leaning back. “You nearly done with whatever you needed to do here?”

“Nearly,” Tim says, glancing at the screen. “I think that’s enough details for anyone trying to pick up the smuggling case to use, if they wanna do something before I get to it, I guess.” Though he doubts anyone will. They’ve got their own cases to work on. He’ll get the weapons smugglers next time; they got lucky this time, that’s all.

“Cool.” Kon glances over to Krypto. Tim follows his gaze; Krypto’s inspecting the dinosaur now, floating up near one of its eyes. “Krypto, be careful with that!”

Krypto wags his tail in acknowledgment.

“I hope he doesn’t try to eat it,” Kon sighs. “He got ahold of a T-Rex bone this one time we went back in time—long story, it was that thing with Lori’s mom I called you about a few weeks back. But I just hope Krypto didn’t, like, acquire a taste for ‘em.”

Tim snorts. He hits save, then lets his head fall against Kon’s shoulder. “Would be kinda funny if he did, though.”

Kon snorts, too, draping his arm around Tim’s shoulders. Even through his sweatshirt and the thin blanket he’s using as a cape, Kon’s warmth radiates gently against his skin. The weight of his arm is… nice.

“Would be kinda funny,” Kon agrees, sighing fondly. “Anyways, you done with that thing?”

“Yeah.” Tim hums. “If you wanna go back to my place, we could do that, or if you’re busy, that’s chill, so…”

“Oh, actually, I’m kidnapping you,” Kon says breezily, and just like that, the familiar net of his TTK wraps around Tim’s body and scoops him up. “I’ve decided you need to laugh at something dumb some more, so we’re gonna go back to the farm and watch this one really weird anime about the composers that Bart showed me last week. Krypto! Come!”

What. “I didn’t even pack anything. Do I get a say in this?” Tim asks. Kon’s already heading for the exit with him in his arms, so he gets the feeling that he’s already got his answer, but still.

“No.” Kon grins. “Didn’t you hear me? I said this is a kidnapping. You’re already in PJs, and you can just borrow something to wear tomorrow. We got spare toiletries at the house. So it’s chill.”

Tim rolls his eyes. But, as they emerge outside under the starry night sky, he finds that he doesn’t really mind.

#timkon #lemonlimestar #woops this kinda got long. into that awkward length i hate (between 800-1.5k) skjdf #BUT. fun fact my dog did that to my dad once #obviously not by flying but like hes a big dog he just walked up behind where my dad was sitting #and i immediately was like. who is the funniest person for krypto to do that to and i think its alfred #tim #kon #alfred #krypto

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