#doesnt mean you know like GO GET FUCKED
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mezmer · 8 months ago
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I feel bad for people who do not enjoy sex, especially women, but it would be unethical of me to try and convince them to try harder to enjoy it, wouldn't that be? I would be very depressed if I lost my ability to enjoy intimacy entirely
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starry-bi-sky · 1 month ago
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Clone^2 - Separation Strikes
"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.
His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.
Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.
And it was summer; Damian starts today.
"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."
Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.
"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"
"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."
Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.
Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.
Danny just...
His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.
He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.
Not like he was.
Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.
He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.
Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.
His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.
(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)
Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"
He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.
Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.
He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.
Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."
"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.
Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?
He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."
Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"
Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.
And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.
His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."
Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"
That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"
Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.
"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."
Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.
"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."
Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"
#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc fic#dpxdc ficlet#clone^2#clone danny fenton#MAN I LOVE THIS AU SM#clone danny#danny fenton is a clone#i lomv. them :((( SO MUCH. I'VE MISSED WRITING THEM. i had this idea since talking to purple-goo-writes abt clone danny last week#they mean everything to me. they are the brothers ever. so family coded. don't ask me about the timeline here it doesnt exist#its post-danny's hands getting permanently fucked up and thats it lol.#parent danny is great but 'big brother danny' is SO fucking fun to write. he's silly and goofy and annoying in the way only siblings are#smth about writing danny being so full of love and kindness and protective compassion. bleeding heart that he is. its like doing cocaine#chaotic danny is SO fun and silly but kIND danny is. holy shit its better than getting high. altho ive never been high so i can only guess#there's just smth addictive in writing him being affectionate and loving and caring. he's heartful and heart full.#he's sweet - not like sugar - but like caramel. fulfilling and chewy. a kindness that gets stuck in your teeth and melts on your tongue#he's such an annoying older brother. i love him#bal mithai is a type of pakistani dessert btw. since Nanda Parbat is based off the mountain nanga parbat which is in pakistan. i figured#that the food damian had in the league might've been pakistani-based. or at least heavily pakistani in orign. maybe. i just didn't wanna#look up 'arabic desserts' and pick the first one off the list. felt inauthentic that way alsdh#translations since you wont get it through google translate:#1. 'are you nervous beloved?' 2. 'no! I am not nervous!' 3. 'I'm not everyone' 4. 'let me go brother!'#while i dont usually use 'little brother' or 'brother' as terms of endearments between siblings. Jazz canonically calls Danny that and#i figured if i worded it in a way that sounded natural. it would sound less soul-crushingly cringy. look as someone wit THREE siblings.#i know exactly how siblings interact with one another. but this felt like a special exception. they don't say it often
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lovesickeros · 11 months ago
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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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puppyeared · 4 months ago
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learning abt friendship decay and "not reaching out to your friends for months at a time unprompted is not neurotypical behaviour" has me feeling a certain way
#experiencing some BIG FEELINGS OVER THIS REVELATION#listen i have never ever been bothered abt not seeing someone in a while or making time to talk to them bc in my mind its like not thst muc#time has passed. i mean it with every fibre of my being that when im like 'oh its ok even though we havent talked in a while and have our#own things going on it doesnt mean we're not friends anymore since we left things on a good note 8 months ago' i sincerely believe that#and for the longest time i just thought everybody makes peace with it at some point and not automatically assuming the other person doesnt#wanna talk to me anymore or smth. my longest lasting friendships are with ppl who work the same way i just thouhght that was normal#whatever organ everybody has that makes them reach out to their friends and plan hang outs i probably dont have it#i was already hesitant to ask out Alex bc i spend almost every waking hour doing smth that isnt talking to ppl unless they happen to be in#the vicinity. and at first it was bc i planned on making sure i had everything set up so i dont get stressed out and do it one at a time#but then i find out theres a friendship decay mechanic? and after dating and marrying someone you lose -10 friendship points for every#day u dont talk to them?? actually ive probably been losing friendship points this whole time without knowing bc of this?????#and i notice a lot of my own habits are also reflected in how i play bc ive been avoiding getting close to pierre and marnie since its more#of a professional relationship. like i know theyre npcs but im approaching it the way i would in real life its fucking nuts#i think its a little relieving im playing /as/ a character than myself bc as im playing im just making up little interactions in my head#than approaching things the way i would myself so it takes a bit of the stress off trying to put myself in there as a spectator. but well#being in a relationship demands a certain amount of energy even more so when theyre things that already take up energy on its own#like making time to talk to your partner and make sure they know theyre loved. i dont always have energy to put all my mental focus into it#and this is true for real life so im not really bothered by not dating anyone. but when its a game and i want my character to be with someo#and i know its fully optional and i know i could just apply the same logic to this i dont /want/ to. sometimes i want to experience#the same things other people do at least to a certain degree without the same emotional andmental stakes#no offense krobus#yapping#stardew#stardew valley#puppy plays sdv#sdv#this game has me by the ankles man
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tacagen · 4 months ago
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one of the things that fascinate me about thawne: yes, he CAN be normal with kids! surprisingly normal!
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((not at all times, though. his mental illness still spills through and as usual he, in trying to manipulate or hurt others, spits out at them the exact stuff that would hurt him (or have in his childhood/barry's rejection interpretation) the most in the first place lmao))
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but at the same time. his like second instinct when doing his bullshit is FUCK THEM (as) KIDS
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(and, well. whatever this classifies as)
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#whats wrong with him. seriously. he loves picking fights with literal children So Much#AND NONE OF THEM WITH WALLY ON THE MATTER OF BEING THE BIGGEST FLASH FAN. HOW DID THAT NEVER HAPPEN#about the middle page. honestly i DIDNT remember he is a Jerk in that way too until i checked his interactions with bart for this post#this man officially should not be allowed near children as a mentor.#just straight up drops ALL his insecurities on a poor kid in trying to make him feel ashamed. NO breaking the abuse cycle for this bad boy#the only thing he doesnt say is the direct 'you are a disappointment' altho the message is still the same 💀💀💀💀💀💀#AND I BET HES HELLA PROUD OF THAT. I MEAN CONSIDERING THIS FACT IG HE DOES TRY TO BE BETTER THAN HIS PARENTS. SOMEWHAT.#and omg he formulates his point like in problem based learning (leading the child to making the correct conclusion themselves)#im dying. professor to the fucking core.#and the way he feels the need to bring up flash facts in his appeal?? EO YOURE SO HOPELESS. THIS IS 100% HOW BART SAW HIM THROUGH#and god knows what he told thad promising to get him out of the speed force if he fought barry there and whether he was going to fulfill it#and do you even IMAGINE how FUCKED barry's mental condition would be growing up if thawne fulfilled his button threat#and i really REALLY wonder about the tornado twins and their relationship with 'uncle eobard' but that will be a separate post#he doesnt know any other way tho. and he might be actually mad at bart for not supporting his every action as The Flash#like. he tries to play family but the second they question he just goes WHATEVER. I DONT NEED IT. FLASH OF MY VISION RUNS ALONE#his problem is that he just wants attention. he doesnt see family/heroing for what 'its really about' or downsides that may come with them#everything is so idealized in his head. and the moment he faces reality with its complications the concept immediately gets antagonized.#and then he reconsiders and changes the conditions but fails each time never realizing the problem is his mindset and not everything else#black white at its finest yall#and man. RELATABLE.#also WHY is he standing LIKE A STATUE when appearing in front of bart????😭😭😭😭#poor museum rat has no idea what heroes in real life stand like#eobard thawne#professor zoom#reverse flash#the reverse flash#bart allen#the flash#dc
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luck-of-the-drawings · 1 year ago
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FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.
#cw gore#jrwi riptide#jrwi riptide spoilers#chip jrwi#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#I LLOOOVE POETRYYY I LOVE MAKING WORDS RHYME IN STRANGE WAYS AND DESCRIBING VISCERA AND VIOLENCE OR WAHTEVER. YKNOW WHAT ELSE I LOVE#CHHHIIIIIIIBBOOOOO MY BEAUTIFUL MAAANN WWHAT. WHAT HAPPENED. OH MY GOD. IVE BEEN SAYING FOREVER. I NEEED CHIP TO GET SCARIER.#HE HAS THE POTENTIAL! I KNOW HE DOES! HAUNTED BOY WITH THE HAUNTED EYES WHAT TRAUMAS HAVE YOU SEEN? AND WERE THEY YOUR FAULT? THINK ABOUT I#EVERY FAMILY HAS CRUMBLED AROUND HIM. HIS BIRTH FAMILY CRUMBLED BEFORE HE KNEW IT. HIS SECOND FAMILY DROWNED. THIRD BURNED TO THE GROUND#AND SHALL THIS NEXT FAMILY JOIN THEM? CHIIIIP YOU UNFORTUNATE BOY YOU HAVE WITNESSED SO MUCH CALAMITY#YOU ARE CALAMITY BOYYY AHAHAHAHA DONT YOU SEEE!! ZOMBIFIED AND DEAD. TRUELY MORE HAUNTED THAN EVER BEFORE. THIS WILL BE FUN#THE FIRE HURTS WHEN IT BURNS TOO LONG. BUT NOW YOUR NERVES ARE DEAD AND YOUR MIND IS FREE. BURN THIS CORPSE AS YOU WISH TO GET WHAT YOU WAN#CHIP IS NOT THE FIRE HE IS THE MATCH. I LOVE THAT IDEA SO MUCH IM SO PROUD OF IT. OHHH AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CORRUPTION#bizly mentioned that chip wants to be a good captain. in his most corrupted state however. he would be the BEST captain..#thAT DOESNT MEAn hes gonna just suddenly be all controlling. the BEST captain keeps his crew safe. keeps them together. keeps them alive.#and chip is doing just that! he doesnt need to stop being a good captain just bc of the corruption! he just needs to be the BEST CAPTAIN#AND THATS SUBJECTIVE BABY!! im so excited to see where chips zombie arc goes. neeeed him to get scarier and just a little more fucked up.#neEED HIM TO PERFORM ABHORANT ACTIONS THAT HAVE JAY N GILL GOING ' dude woah what the fuck...'#RIGHT I SHOULD TALK ABT MY ART TOO. this one took TOO LONGGGstarted out witha sketch how did it end up like this...#the heart and the blood KILLED ME. LOOK AT MY RENDERING LIKE HWAAATT#better not see any more mistakes after i post this.... i cant fight withit anymore....STILL RLY PROUD THO..#I WAnted to make it visually LOOK like the grossest vomiting sound possible#i want it to make your throat feel uncomfortable. am i achieving that? i hope i am. thats tubes dude!!! like cmahn!
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yellowocaballero · 1 year ago
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So fucking glad to see someone talk about SSS Class revival hunter 😭 I lived it so much and I feel like no one ever mentions it against more popular titles like ORV or even The Lout of the counts family, so I'm so glad to come here and see your amazing takes :>
Thank you for the ask which lets me talk about SSSCRH (the version I read was titled 'Suicide Hunter', which tbh I like more - no beating around the bush).
It's hard to draw an accurate comparison since I'm going off just the webtoon for SSSCRH, while I'm going off both the webtoon and the webnovel for ORV. And I love ORV, ORV is my media blorbo right now, it hydraulic presses my brain, I am writing ORV fanfic - it's, like, funner to enjoy. But SSSRH is just better. In the vast majority of ways it is is better. It's better than the holy trinity by a wide margin. TW talk of suicide obviously.
I can't believe I'm saying this but you need a basic understanding of Buddhism in order to understand SSSCRH. It's not about Gongja's suicides - he doesn't suicide from depression or lack of self-esteem. SSSCRH is about suffering in the Buddhist sense - dukkha. I don't want to make this an essay, so I might reblog this with more information, but extremely shortly:
The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism is the truth of suffering, the truth of the cause of suffering, the truth of the end of suffering, and the truth of the path that leads to the end of suffering. You've heard that Buddhists say 'life is suffering'. To put it one way that doesn't require defining a lot of words: the cause of suffering is experiencing the world as we percieve it instead of how it truly is. Suffering isn't just being miserable and in pain, and life isn't suffering because life sucks and global warming exists and people voted for Trump. Life is suffering because we can experience beautiful and joyful moments in this world, but we do not exist in the moment of that happiness or place our ego/'self' between us and that happiness. Living in that moment, accepting the moment as it is unconditionally, is freedom from suffering. The Buddha tries to free people from suffering through teaching Buddhism.
"What does this have to do with the webnovel and manwha about a guy murdering himself thousands of times" it has everything to do with it. Because SSSCRH is about suffering, and it is about using suffering as a tool in order to experience a world unfiltered by ego and break down the artificial boundaries between human beings. Suffering in SSSCRH is not a bad thing. Gongja has the unique capability to (reincarnate.) experience a person's suffering in unity with them, which dissolves the delusion of separation between people and puts us in touch with the reality of oneness.
The Murim arc was fucking insane because Gongja pulls a Big Bodhisattva Move and walks through the suffering of the world in order to achieve full understanding of the human experience. He takes all of the suffering of the world into himself and is liberated. You can tell it's Buddhist because death was not presented as a bad thing - death was an aspect of a happy ending for the Heavenly Demon lady, because she was finishing her life according to her own joy, and because her teachings were passed on she did not truly die.
But the purpose of embracing suffering is to discover the ability to fully embrace life, and that's where Heavenly Demon's teachings were incomplete - as the ghost dude said, Gongja hasn't even experienced his own full life and the infinite capability for his own happiness. You can only feel the depths of sadness when you've felt the depths of happiness. Sadness deserves its place in the world and it can strengthen you, but so does happiness.
Gongja is attention-seeking, envious, and unbelievably petty. When he drills down into his own desires and why he wants the things he wants, you see that he has a very strong sense of justice and right and wrong - he realizes he doesn't want to be famous, he wants to be acknowledged, but on an even deeper level he is desperate for love and to be loved. Everything he does is to experience love, and as such he learns to love others. His love for the Flamey Asshole was purely parasocial and ego-filled, with no concern for who he was as a human. Throughout the manwha, he grows to care for people as they truly are and pierce through any delusions or misleading outward appearances. He has released all attachment to life and death, and as such does not fear death, and as such has taken a step on the road towards becoming a Boddhisatva who frees others from the cycle of samsara, and as a result has learned sick sword techniques and is sooo good at beating people up.
I think the only other thing I want to mention here because otherwise this is an essay: in almost every time loop/regression story, only the final regression matters. In stories with dungeon monsters and NPCs, only the humans matter. The regressor exists in a space where there are no consequences for their actions, so they act terribly and do whatever because none of it matters. In Groundhog Day Bill Murray acts like an asshole because he can. That's not the case here. Everything Gongja does matters. The NPCs are fake, but Gongja never treats them as anything less than real people who deserve life. Once he understands a person's life he never treats them as unimportant. No loop is thrown away and no person or life is disregarded. His choices matter, the way he treats others matters, and Gongja never treats anybody as if they don't matter except for himself.
That was not short. There is a lot more. The female characters are so good and so rich. From a craft perspective it is excellently paced and has a wonderful sense of set-up/payoff and balances tone and maintains a lot of momentum, which is really hard in a time loop story. You have to do a few very specific things to write OP characters well and SSSCRH does it very well. There's more to say from a craft perspective and it's hard to judge accurately from a webtoon but it's good. I was so strangely struck the entire time about how sincere and genuine it was, how it said what it said with no trace of irony of confusion, and I think that's what stuck with me the most.
TL;DR: SSS Class Revival Hunter is good for a lot of very normal reasons, such as excellent pacing and set-up/pay off and characters, but it's also so sincerely and genuinely Buddhist that it blew my tits clean off.
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lokh · 18 days ago
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every day im reminded that though my parents may have wanted a dog they clearly did not want to take care of a dog
#and i KNEW this which was why i insisted on not getting dogs though they keep trying to gaslight me#into thinking that i agreed on the dogs. i didnt and i wish id railed against it harder#because ill be honest i knew i didnt want to take care of a dog i wasnt in the headspace#but i also knew that if they got the dog that the actual caring duties would be foisted off to me#and the things that They would have to do ie go to the vet nd pay the bills etc theyd complain about and avoid#and thats one thjng. but oh my fucking god. my dad specifically#its like hes trying to get these dogs to die. we have several plants in the backyard#bad for dogs. i point them out. i have pointed them out Several times.#theyre his plants the gardens his thats none of my things. he just goes oh they wont get into them#THEYRE DOGS. but he doesnt want to move his fucking plants#one of the dogs is on medicine but has a habit of not eating his food in the morning#which means if u leave his medicine in hjs bowl the other dog might eat it#one solution is to give him the tablet straight. because hes good about eating it#he doesnt want to because 'thats gross'. Are you five fucking years old#the dog doesnt like the texture of dry food so another solution is to wet it#dad wont do that either because 'hes too spoiled' and 'it takes time' ONE MINUTE?????????#like i have to assume this is some kind of ploy to make me do it instead when i dont wake up that early#because if its not then hes truly just incompetent or doesnt care about the dogs#which brings me back to WHY DID YOU GET THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE.#im sick of having to worry about them when he just does shit like this its wasting my time and its wasting money#but ohhhh we dont want to give the dogs away theyre part of the family 🥺#CLEARLY. because apparently u wanted kids but didnt want to take care of them either!!#im pissed off!!! im tired!!!!!!!!#i need to know im not going batshit here for being pissed off!!!!!#the dogs are getting back to back problems and at least some of it would have been mitigated by oh.#i dont know. the bare minimum?????#at least if the plants had been taken care of i wouldnt have to wonder if theyd just gotten into them#or if its an actual problem like a mass or bite. but no now i dont know#and at this rate were going to waste money going to the vet every fucking week
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dukeofthomas · 2 months ago
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jason thinks he should be dead (sometimes he thinks he IS dead), he's just what crawled out of jason todd's grave but he IS jason todd why cant you see that im still the same person. but im not who i used to be and you have to accept i'm different now but i'm still the same bc i'm still your son and your brother and your friend but i'm not 15 anymore (but i am i never grew up i'm still stuck in that warehouse watching the seconds count down the joker is still laughing and i'm still in pain and broken and bloody and beaten and the warehouse is everything and i'm 15 i'm 15 i'm 15) i'm an adult now i'm not a sweet lil daddy's kid anymore i've grown up (i haven't. do you remember when i played with legoes? when we went to football matches togetehr? when you drove me to school and called me chum and smiled at me gently and put your hand around my shoulder and squeezed? i loved you.) when you look at me all you see is who i used to be, you don't see ME, you just see who i used to be and i can never measure up to that, i can never be as good or kind or gentle or loving as the ghost of me that lives in your brain, but when i look in the mirror my eyes are dead like a fish's and my corpse is still in the ground and i'm not breathing because my insides are decayed and gone but i'm still standing here like a zombie, like a bad dream, like a fraction of who i used to be because i'm dead and i'm 15 and i never grew up but i'm somehow still an adult and how dare you not see me for who i am because i'm still the same but i'm still different but aren't i your son? am i at least still your son? you took me in and you loved me and you cared for me and you were my father my god my everything? i'm still your son. i'm still your son. i'm still your son.
Do you love me? Can you prove you love me? Can you prove i meant anything and can you prove my death was real?
(I love you. Please say it back.)
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deer-with-a-stick · 1 year ago
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I love how all of the companions' stories revolve around autonomy and I love how some of the romances show the whole "I love you for who you are"
Don't love how so many people are misinterpreting them though
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astranauticus · 11 months ago
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stultifera navis rerun AKA thinking about Iberia hours again because a lot of the Iberians have such fascinating relationships with the concept of home but specifically Thorns and Lumen are eating at my brain. like where do you call home when the place that is your home Just Fucking Hates You? Elysium's rewinding breeze specifically makes a point to hammers home how differently Iberia treats its Liberi and its Aegir
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(which is especially interesting since this comes right after a conversation where Purestream commented on how despite Leizi being a high ranking government official, there are still some experiences that are universal for all Yanese people - because the experience of what Iberia itself is like isnt universal for all Iberians)
But all that being said, Thorns also straight up states that Aegir is not his home, and yeah, how could it be? How could a place you've never been to, never truly known, ever be your home? How could it ever feel like a home?
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so where do you go when the place that you are from hates your people and the place your people are from is completely unfamiliar and alien to you? Thorns' answer at the end of the conversation with Aya is: my home is where i chose it to be. my home is where there are people I care about and people who care about me
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in the complete opposite direction, Lumen's oprec asks: why do you still stay in a place that wants you gone? because the people of Gran Faro like Jordi well enough but when push comes to shove, they will want the only Aegir in town gone
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and yet, when Rald the messenger offers him a chance to leave Jordi turns him down and when he's forced to escape Gran Faro after the people there literally try to send him to his death (or worse) at the hands of the Inquisitors he keeps trying to go back because like everyone in stultifera navis, Jordi is clinging to his own dreams of a golden age
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but the shape of that dream is unique to every character and for Jordi, his dreams are deeply, inseparably bound to the Eye of Iberia, the legacy his parents left behind
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and it's this dream of becoming someone great, of bringing about that golden age that his parents devoted their lives to help create that ties Jordi to this nothing town because despite everything, despite the mistrust of the townsfolk and the hostility of the Inquisition and the danger from the ocean, he simply cannot leave it behind
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(or, because i personally dislike the official translation,)
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"I just see this place as my home"
so yeah. not sure what overall point i was trying to make here i'm just. deeply in love with these stories about chosing what is and isn't your home, of saying you will not call a place your home because it has given you no reason to or saying you consider a place your home even though it has given you every reason not to. deeply unwell about them <3
#arknights#asto speaks#not much of an essay writer i just keep thinking about them and i need to force other people to think about them too#thorns story fucks me up bc like. this whole almost found family adjacent idea of like#maybe home isnt something decided by your birth but something you can chose based on what truly matters to you#it just gets to me. i guess.#jordi gets to me in a completely different direction there's nothing personal about it i just find his story *fascinating*#just a guy. a completely normal guy. an absolute nobody caught up in these dreams of greatness while also fully aware of his own normalcy#but never letting either of those overshadow the other. never losing that self awareness or that fuckin obsessive determination#god. what a Character#i love jordi so much like genuinely#i joke a lot about him being just a Guy but thats also kinda like the best thing about him#the fact that he is the way that he is and does all the things he does despite being just a Guy#gently holds#for context i was so hyped about new iberia lore when sn was announced i read the whole thing as soon as it dropped on cn server#cuz someone uploaded all the story sections to bilibili right after it came out#and '我只是把这里当作自己的故乡啊' fucking hit me SO HARD#in like the greater context of elysium demanding to know why hes risking his life in like 5 different ways to return to gran faro#because yeah jordi just doesnt want to leave his home but like we the audience knows the full *weight* of what that home means to him#and the weight of the dreams that made him chose to see Gran Faro as his home and to refuse to let go of that#thats why i like the original a lot more than the translation i think like it really emphasises that active *choice*.#this is the place jordi has *decided* to see as his home and he knows what that means and what it means to him#side note the part on thorns might not actually age well depending on whether hg decides to ever release more aulus lore#i mean i'll gladly take the L if it means more aulus and/or thorns lore like#i just wanna know what (if anything) is tying him to iberia yknow#ak#iberiaposting
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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
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honestly wally is stronger than atlas. if i had to constantly calibrate to the nature of my reality w/ full consciousness i would simply lose my fucking mind
#like babies dont Think while they learn how to exist#imagine straight up spawning fully aware and then everyone else is up to speed but youre standing there like#🧍‍♂️uh. hello. what is everything. what is this. huh????#LIKE???? i feel so bad for him. dude got dropped right into the middle of the ocean and was told 'learn to swim'#and hes trying. but he doesnt know what drowning is so he cant sink either#i mean i get it at least a little bit! its the Autism Experience but w/ him the dial is cranked up to a thousand#you dont know what you dont know but life goes on like you should. fuck#wally i am mentally beaming you a thousand apples grown in the shape of hearts#i believe in you dude you'll figure it out#well. im probably beaming apples into the past if the time discrepancy is real but yk yk#cause if it is then Current Wally probably has a solid handle on things. from a basic standpoint#in a wider lens i am led to believe that he is Scrabbling#is this speculation???#i think it counts.#wh speculation#homebogging#whenever i think about the tidbits we know - ex: wally learning about differences in size#internally i start howling. wally is just constantly dealing with things that would drive a person insane if they had to live it#how is he not Exhausted... it's all so much for someone who knows whats going on let alone someone scrambling to catch up#at least the other neighbors dont have to deal with memorizing physics and skills and behavior#and just Literally Everything That Comes With Being Alive#wally is a blank slate left to write itself.#ough. damn. fuck. i think i need to go stare into the woods for a bit...
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moeblob · 7 months ago
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Windy at my house + power flickering = no comm work = quick laptop doodle
#my characters#i genuinely hoped the wind would die down but like ??? nah?#and the last time we lost power without an actual storm it WAS bc of wind#and so i just get so panicked over please dont fry my tablet with a power surge#if it calms down by tonight i really wanna work on art since i spent almost all day yesterday struggling with a pose and i finally#think i thought of something that could work and then (gestures to the wind) fuck me#also in regards to these two you have seen me drawing deacon a lot recently and i only drew armya once so far#she is a devoted follower to fulj which is really rare since fulj no longer has a large following nor a temple#so when fulj finds her its comforting and reassuring and she adores armya a lot#however the fact that fulj relentlessly teases deacon and calls him names is like..... ok wait would you really be mean to me if it wasnt#for her ? like would you still pick on me? :c and shes like lol yeah dude absolutely#deacon is just constantly dunked on by the lightning group and hes so sad because he wanted to be friends :c#but also the guy wouldnt really recognize the followers if it wasnt for the traces of lady fulj#so if they would wander into the city without having been possessed recently he probably wouldnt even cast a glance their way#nothing personal he just straight up doesnt decipher looks fast at all#he could think they look familiar but then not know why ESPECIALLY if they wear something he's not used to them in#like if armya showed up in something other than her loose white jacket he would not be able to go AH YES ARMYA immediately#he identifies people by hair or clothing details so it kinda messes him up if people remove whatever identifying trait they have#long hair getting a hair cut? suddenly a whole new person#and armya knows this very well since he never looked her way unless fulj was possessing her or trailing her#so she does like to tease him as just. we are both in servitude to a deity and same rank but like. bro youre too easy to mock#(fulj agrees)
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puppyeared · 1 year ago
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ive made myself more wet and pathetic
#new icon because im SUFFERING. im in HELL#its so bad. i had to sign out of discord so now im both lonely and stressed#because i KNOW im still gonna get dstracted. i just did making this URGH#how good are brains at working around things. i once set a 7AM alarm on my phone with snooze cause i was so sure my brain would#be too lazy and keep snoozing instead of actually turning it off. but nay it either kept sleeping through the alarms and snoozing#or actually managed to turn off the alarm half awake that i barely remembered it and then waking up late#i actually have a track record of climbing out of bed and turning my alarm off without remembering. which is impressive bc i have a loftbed#the other thing is setting fake deadlines so make myself panic into doing things ahead of time. but unfortunately that doesnt work either#because if theres one thing my brain will put all its energy into remembering its self assurance. meaning i WILL be able to remember#the real deadline even if i try to trick myself. cant ask someone to give me a fake deadline either#the only things keeping me going rn is that i have deadlines due at least 1 day between each other and excitement being able to talk with#crow after break. but you can see how well thats going <- ignores long term rewards in favor of short term pleasure#BTW CROW IF YOURE READING THIS IM SO SORRY TURNING OFF MY DISCORD WITH BARELY ANY EXPLANATION#im a huge fucking dumbass and i had barely enough impulse control not to block everyone in my dms because i realized that would send a real#really bad msg. youre not distracting me im distracting myself and i promise youre not annoying me i just really like talking to you and#thats why im just barely stopping myself from signing in. I WANT TO TALK TO U LOTS BUT AT THE SAME TIME IM KICKING MYSELF FOR DOING IT#you can be a little mad at me btw cause i definitely could have done that better but i was all over the place abt how to do it without#making u think im ignoring you. IF THAT MAKES SENSE. SORRY#yapping#doodles#puppysona#edit but last week i tried to schedule and give myself work periods and break periods using my class schedule#and reminders on my phone to tell me when to start and stop. can you guess what happened
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skitskatdacat63 · 3 months ago
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#lol i love seeing just straight up bullying on tiktok(/s)#someone(im guessing) went into a discord server for proshipping#and then posted their face reveals on tiktok!?!??!?!#basically saying: look how ugly and weird they look#like what the fuck#just bcs you dont agree with someones opinion ON SHIPPING#doesnt mean you should blast them on socmed?#they posted those pics in a trusted space :(#why are people so cruel and vindictive nowadays#people who make it their whole personalities to shit on pros OR antis are so embarrassing#just keep to yourself and keep your personal moral highground you know?#like they go low we go higher etc#cause on tiktok people will post very bait proshipper tiktoks#to the point where i honestly think they're 100% antis who just wanna sow discourse and disgust#like when i see those people im like just ignore them???#just dont engage man. you end up encouraging people to do worse and worse just to cause drama#but yeah antis in return will make all their posts 'correcting' these obv bait posts#like both of you get a life and just do things that make you happy. not things that obv upset you#idk it kinda sickens me how much time people devote to activities that clearly doesn't make them happy#even if youre pleased about dunking on people you morally disagree w +#wouldnt you feel happier engaging with content that yknow. fills you with genuine enjoyment?#not enjoyment fueled by disgust or morally superiority#idk some people feel like children so i shouldnt care too deeply. but the amnt of toxic behavior is so disturbing to me#the posting of faces got on my nerves badly. no matter if you disagree with someone#you shouldnt just straight up expose their face on your big acct BECAUSE OF DIFFERENCES IN SHIPPING OPINION#and the fact that the point is to imply they're all ugly. so fucking childish and disgusting#i reported but idk if that'd do anything. i wish i could have an honest dialog w people like that tbh#catie.rambling.txt
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godsfavoritescientist · 1 year ago
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Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.
I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.
Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?
How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"
And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.
So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.
So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.
And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.
-
And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.
Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.
And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.
So you sail away in a boat together.
And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.
But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.
But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.
You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.
And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-
-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.
You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.
-
And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.
It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.
And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.
#succumbed to the stan twins angst visions and wrote 2000 words about this#ford pines#ford meta#this turned into a character analysis that almost reads like a fic#godswriting#<- i need to change my writing tag to this#something bothers me a little bit about the solution to their conflict being 'ford appreciates stan more now so he is now fine with-#-boat adventures with stan'. to me it leaves the initial conflict of 'he doesnt want to do that anymore' unresolved#obviously you could easily argue that ford never stopped wanting to go on boat adventures with stan and he just couldnt justify it to-#-himself when compared to the opportunity at west coast tech. but that has one less layer of conflict#compared to the possibility that he truly was not interested in boat adventures anymore. ESPECIALLY if its a manifestation of him#feeling suffocated by the whole dynamic-twins-duo thing#its normal to start wanting a little bit more space especially at that age. to want to have space to figure out who you are#the healthy thing would have been them talking about it and figuring out a compromise. like 'when ford needs space he can spend a few hours#-alone without stan being worried the whole time that it means ford hates him' and 'we still spend x amount of time working on the boat and#-we still chat on the way to and from school every day and hang out at the beach on weekends'#like of fucking course it was never about hating stan or about wanting to get away from him because of who he is as a person!#he literally just wanted to have a little bit of breathing room to be his own separate person. he just didn't know how to put it into words#I really think the crux of it all was them not knowing how to navigate that balance between independence and identity while staying close#so ford misattributing/reducing that feeling to 'I dont have the exact same dream as stan anymore. why does he still have that dream. oh no#feels like a good way of giving that conflict a tangible aspect to it thats easy for the stans to point at and talk about as a way of-#-alluding to the REAL core of the conflict between them.#and of course the show never says 'they sail around the world for the rest of their lives 24/7' so it's not like it Actually Conflicts with#-my interpretation of the conflict and how it should be resolved. but since its the last thing we see happen between them when theyre given#their happy ending. I feel compelled to say 'hey I know them living in the shack together and traveling in a boat every single year sounds-#-really fun and like a satisfying ending but I think they should have a Little Bit more space from eachother than that. Hanging out almost-#-daily but not literally being in the same house and same boat for the rest of their lives. bc if stan was ok with ford asking for that-#-little bit of space and if ford didnt panic and isolate himself from everyone whenever he needs like one hour of alone time? that would-#-feel like a big piece of the puzzle fitting into place for their conflict resolution and growth as characters. to me#and I think they deserve to have all the tied-up-loose-ends and resolved-conflicts and character-growth in the world.
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