#or like this move doesnt even work like that

[yuwuta]

honestly all of them are really bad at enduring the silent treatment/you wanting to be alone after an argument but satoru and megumi are the absolute worst like satoru cannot do it he cannot have you not talking to him he will do anything he will beg he will cry he will grovel he will buy food and presents and a house and a car and sing to you outside of your window and beg and beg and beg, and megumi cannot stand the idea of you going to bed angry at him

[elysiuminfra]

i want to talk about walmart for a second. if you haven’t worked or known someone who worked for walmart, you probably don’t know how bad it is. most people don’t, so i want to talk about it.

there’s a points system for absences. if you miss work, and can’t cover it with accrued time off (because you don’t just Get time off - it builds up over time. it takes about a month of straight work to get a day off.) you get a point. five points and you’re at risk of termination. all managers - team leads, and above them, coaches - have the power to excuse points so that you don’t get fired. some do, so you don’t lose your job. most don’t. five days, that’s it.

if you miss more than three shifts of work due to a medical issue, you have to go through a third party company (which isn’t really third party.) to get a medical exception so you don’t lose your job. it is hard to get this. they need a lot of documentation to prove that you somehow deserved to miss work. they don’t accept regular doctors notes. this is somehow nebulously legal. you are also forced to work while sick and infectious. flu, strep, covid, doesnt matter for all departments except produce and deli. even then, they only send you home if you throw up *at work* or have food-related illnesses. every other department you’re not allowed to go home. more than likely you are being exposed to someone who’s sick at walmart, because its either come in sick or get fired.

i work hard. everyone *has* to work hard. you are on your feet 8 hours a day. you can’t sit. there are no surfaces to sit on. some departments are harder than others. i worked in OPD, the online grocery fulfillment department. i would walk, bare minimum, 7 to 8 miles a day, hauling sometimes over 200 pounds of groceries. every day. now i work in the deli. you are constantly moving. this is very typical for the deli - you are given too many tasks to perform in one day. most days i can barely get enough done. i know people don’t take their legally entitled second breaks. I know people who have to work off the clock just to get everything done. my department - as is *most other departments* - is understaffed. i cook, clean, work the slicer, and dispense food at the same time. and trust me when i tell you the standards of cleanliness in my department is high, but in practice it is very, very poor. simply because there is usually only one of us working back there, and we just can’t do everything right all at once.

none of the “fresh” food in the bakery / produce area is fresh. the bread is baked in store, but the dough is made and frozen elsewhere. sometimes it’s been frozen for weeks. everything is shockingly artificial. same with produce. you’re better off buying your produce elsewhere, or even locally. walmart has been fraught with recall after recall.

people are cheated out of retirements. so many people I know that are at retirement age simply can’t. there are people working here in their 70s. they are being overworked. there are a lot of teenagers that work up front. they are being overworked. I know two kids who are disabled that work the register. they aren’t allowed to sit. one had to fight to be able to get a medical accommodation and only got one when he threatened to sue, because not taking a doctor’s note for an accommodation is illegal. they do it anyways. there are so many people i know personally that are disabled, have chronic pain, have mobility issues, and can’t sit. or walk miles and miles a day. one of my coworkers recently quit because she tore both rotator cuffs in her shoulders from this job. this job disables you. it kills you. (just look up how many people have died on the job due to negligence. it is not a small amount.)

even the prices are fake. sales are fake. rollback is fake. i notice how things are priced and they rarely change, even when they say they’re on sale. it’s a scam. you are being scammed.

we are overworked and underpaid for our labor. (speaking of, wages used to be higher by several dollars a couple years ago. they lowered them. my department paid 20 an hour. it only pays 16 now. almost all other departments are at a flat 14. it used to be 16.)

wage theft, lack of breaks, overtime violations, lack of sick leave, chronic understaffing and chronic abuse from management, not terminating employees that sexually harass coworkers, and piles and piles and piles of responsibilities. all of this is to say, walmart only operates because of how much they exploit their workers, and it’s in the top of the Fortune 500 list. it is impossibly dire. and it is in EVERY SINGLE store, because that is just how the work culture operates.

all salaried management is also given guides on union busting. unionization is impossible. there was one store that they completely shut down because of successful unionization efforts, laying off hundreds of people, and blamed it on “faulty plumbing.”

one last thing - if you are assaulted by a customer, you cannot defend yourself. nobody can help you, because none of us are allowed to put our hands in any capacity on a customer. if you are assaulted, you have no choice but to run and hide. I’ve heard of a worker at my store that was assaulted repeatedly over several days from people who would come in and beat her. they weren’t banned, and she was fired for fighting back. if you fight back, you’re fired immediately, no exceptions.

all of this is to say shop elsewhere. buy locally. buy at other stores. you will get better quality items and produce literally ANYWHERE else. if you can’t, be kind to Walmart workers. theres abuse at every step of the chain. even on the supply side. walmart is a corporate dystopian monster that only makes its money off of intense labor violations.

tl;dr don’t shop at walmart. it’s not worth it

[the-elegant-necromancer]

Knightfall on the brain

Cinder knew her power was just another shackle, another leash, another master dictating her life. She only had one wish, one terrible wish, to live free and happy.

Here she was betraying another master for just the smallest chance at freedom. Her life on repeat as she tore her own collar off with her bare hands. Clawing and fire she dug her hand at the shoulder. Obsidian blades, sharper than anything on Remnant.

She screamed in equal parts hate and pain. She dug until she could feel the tendril at the core of the wicked thing.

She caught it. The last collar she would ever wear. Maiden flame ripped through the grimm abomination. She wrenched it free with a chorus of crunching bone and snapping sinew.

At last she pulled the damn thing free, its horrible tentacle thrashing about trying in vain to invade her body again. Fire erupted from inside the grotesque thing.

Cinder threw it to the ground where it writhed with a terrible screeching nearly as though it was laying curses at Cinder. She didn't care.

She clamped her hand to the hole she had now made at her should and seared it closed with maiden flame. Compared to the arm coming free it was nothing, or she had started to go numb. She was probably going into shock. She couldnt she didn't have time for it.

Standing in that dark hall as all of team RWBY and JNRO came up on her. She said she didn't want to work with Salem anymore that she wanted more to life.

She asked what she needed to do in order to prove she didn't work for Salem anymore

"Get rid of the grimm arm" It was Jaune, he snapped at her, as though he had the idea already.

Without hesitation she did as he told her not even entertaining any of the other people there.

As she finished searing the wound shut she shook trying to stay on her feet. They all looked, horrified? Disgusted? All but him, Arc, he was smiling. it was slight but she could see it.

Starting to collapse he was there again, catching her before she hit the cold stone. He moved his hand to where her arm was now missing and did something. It felt warm, like tea on a cold day.

Comforting.

He was using his semblance on her, helping her heal.

Why?

It felt so nice being held by him, is this what it was like to be comforted? She understood it now, or better.

"I did not expect you to... actually... didnt even hesitate"

Still wincing at the remaining pain as it slowly faded she couldnt quite control her mouth in that moment "Did I pass?"

As he kept up with his semblance he huffed a single laugh "You passed, heh, you passed with flying colors."

"Doesnt that mean a get a reward?" She dazedly asked still reeling from the pain

"And what would you possibly want at a time like this?

"Be the one to wake me up?"

"I dont?"

"A maiden needs a kiss to be woken and freed from the spell. "

"Ah, wow, okay..."

"Please." She pleaded, she never pleaded, that was the old Cinder, she was free now, she felt new, alive.

"As you wish."

At the protest of almost all of his teammates he leaned down. It wasn't a hot, or passionate affair. Only several seconds and she was once again starting up at those handsome blue eyes.

"Wake up Cinder."

Something was different. She felt, better, but only in her mind. Everything was clearer, easier to see, easier to deal with, easier to just feel things.

"Finally..." She couldn't help the few tears leaking down her soft cheek "Finally I'm free. Thank you... Jaune."

[potchi-fics]

2:27 am (part four of attention)

i | ii | iii | iv

      sevika wakes up with a sore body. strangely, she notices that her body is patched up, wounds clean and all, hell, even littered with bandages and gauze. she checks the aged clock that is nailed on the wall: 2:27. her gaze falls to her window, seeing its still dark— its 2:27 in the morning. a groan of pain emits from her trying to sit up which she did, almost dying in the process. however, soft snores and breathing catch her attention.

its you. 

what are you still doing in here with her? you’re supposed to leave. but who is she kidding, you look soft like an angel–  your hands wrapped around a pillow on your chest, and your head laying on top of it. she doesnt know it but a small smile is on her rugged face: foolish woman. only does she stop staring at your figure when she sees a shiver from your figure to get you a blanket.

but her heavy footsteps cause you to wake up and groggily ask her.

“where you goin’?” your voice laced with sleepiness.

Sevika signals for you to take the couch, “to find a blanket.”

      you are about to protest except she shushes you with a look, successfully shutting you up. she disappears into another room as you quietly move to the couch. you lay down face-first, sleep taking over. 

“here,” the blanket gets thrown on your back, “use it.”

     you thought she was gonna stay but she heads for the door. pushing through your exhaustion, you lift your head up to ask her the same question.

“where you going, sevika?” you glance at the clock, “its 2:33 in the morning, come back here on the couch.”

      without looking back at you, she pulls out a cape.

she takes a few seconds, “job’s not finished.”

“atleast take a couple of more hours to rest,” you argue back.

      you stand up to block her way– determined to somehow find a way to stop her. you look up at her, she’s a massive woman and you hate that you like it. 

sevika frowns, “step aside, topsider.”

“im serious, youre hurt,” your voice holds concern, “and youre hurt bad.”

“and im serious, step aside.” 

      she takes a step forward but you dont budge. you only cross your arm before poking her side, the moment you see her wince, you raise your eyebrow. 

she swats your finger away, “dont touch me.”

      you poke her again, wanting to prove your point. you wont back down easily. she’s hurt and you will do everything in your power to stop her. unexpectedly, she roughly grabs your wrist and pushes you against the nearest wall– pinning you. 

“youre real stubborn,” sevika pushes her thick hips onto yours.

you discreetly swallow, “im just sayin’.”

“stay out of my way, topsider,” she leans down, close enough that you can see every minute detail on her face.

      you dare to get closer, one gust of wind and your lips will meet. she gazes at your lips for a split second, returning to your eyes immediately. your own admire her scars, how the blue blends well with her skin, how it sends fire to your abdomen– again.

yet one question lingers in your mind.

“why do you care?” she pulls away.

      she beats you to it. why do you care? you’ve only met her a couple of days ago. your mind racks up to try and formulate an answer but nothing comes.

sevika’s voice slices through the tense silence, “this means nothing.”

      the both of you withdraw from each other, chests heaving due to just what happened. a horndog is what you are, dont even deny it.

her footsteps get quieter as she exits the door– you look fixedly at the floor, your arms falling back to your side. reality sinks in: yeah, this means nothing. why do i care? the click of the door makes you grit your teeth; frustrated at not only sevika, but yourself as well because what are you doing? why do you care for a woman who youve only met days ago? 

this means nothing.

      you throw yourself into your work after that altercation. all you have done is work all day and all night, not bothering to take a break and it is evident on your face– tired eyes, not sleeping and eating properly, and exhausted. nonetheless, she’s still in your head. you cant seem to get her out of your mind. 

you lean back on your chair, “get out of my fucking head.”

“get who out of your head?” a british woman stands in the doorway of your workshop.

you perk up, “caitlyn, what are you doing here?”

“im here if youre gonna go and come to progress day.” caitlyn leans on the frame of your doorway. “also, ive heard you havent been eating well. or resting, in general.”

your chair creaks as you lean back, “ill think ‘bout it. and im fine, caitlyn.”

      she’s a friend of yours, she stops by your shop every once in a while to help her with the maintenance of her gun. although you consider her a friend, she doesnt know about your secret trips to the undercity nor your interaction with silco’s righthand woman, sevika. she raises her eyebrow but you dismiss it, working back on your project. 

“really, im okay, officer kiramman,” just in time, her mother calls out for her, “and your mothers calling you. say hi to her for me.”

“take care of yourself, will you,” caitlyn bids you goodbye.

      the grip on your small screwdriver loosens up and it drops on your table with a thud: get out of my head, sevika. 

she consumes all of your thoughts: her scent, her body, her nose, her. you think back to when she pressed herself against you, how solid and hard she was, how she was much bigger than you, how she could pin both of your hands using only one from her. god, it sends heat throughout your body, you cant help it. the things she’s doing to you even when she’s not around. one day, ill kill her myself– you bang your forehead on the table.

note: is it obvious that this is a slow burn

[justicecaballer]

ive been having trouble getting out of bed lately.

its not that i cant, really, its just that i dont see the point. this morning i had the thought "i dont have a reason to get out of bed," and then qualified it with, "but im not, like, sad, i just dont have any morning obligations." however as the day went on and i felt the frustration of aimlessness mounting, the thought turned into "i dont have anything to live for," which sounds like a much more dire statement.

im Fine, or fine enough, but. i havent had any work projects in a while and all my personal projects arent sticking. there isnt really much to do Out in the world that doesnt come with the pressure of spending money, and i dont have anybody local to hang out with. despite throwing myself into various activities i feel like im hitting a plateau, and all that i have to do with my time is look at screens. (it doesnt help that since switching vocal instructors i feel like i havent been making Any progress — she's a very nice lady but her teaching "style" if it even exists doesnt do anything for me, among other things.)

ive been applying to jobs but: im most qualified for design work, and that is what my portfolio is geared towards, and I Hate Design. my portfolio sucks which puts me in a cycle of applying to things i have no interest in but cant seem to claw myself out of. i need to overhaul it, or make another one, but every time i try its overwhelming!!!!!!!!!! all my shint sucks. i dont have the focus to sink my teeth into all the moving parts.

idk im just really chasing my own tail here and its super frustrating

[yan-springlove]

Powder Blues AU

So I've been thinking about the different ways Powder×Jinx could work given that Jinx leaves Zaun and Piltover.

I think it'd be a slowburn in regards to Powder being able to see Vi and Ekko, and a slowburn between Jinx and Powder. In a things-get-worse-before-they-get-better way. So welcome to this AU I made for them!

I got inspired by one of my fav fics where two siblings' bodies get molecularly mashed into a single one thanks to a quirk--but retains the consciousness of both siblings. Much like how our Ekko hopped into Powder's Ekko through the arcane anomaly!! Except the other Ekko didn't retain any sort of control or consciousness.

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/45335362 if u wanna check it out. Its MHA--Touya and Fuyumi centric, wonderfully written)

Powder would probably try to account for that--but what if she wasn't completely succesful?

So Jinx and Powder are stuck in the same body sharing control instead of complete separation. They can't hear each others thoughts, so they have to talk with the same mouth (taking turns) if they want to communicate.

This has so much potential for various scenes!! But here's my idea for how it goes:

---

Powder finds that she has to convince Jinx she's real and not just another facet of Jinx's mental instability. As Jinx is currently wandering Demacia via airship, Powder is trying to convince Jinx to visit Vi and Ekko.

With enough willpower, Powder finds she can move Jinx's body---up until Jinx starts fighting for control of those parts again (like if Powder is doing something Jinx really doesn't want to aka going back to Zaun and Piltover)

Gaining control is kind of a coin toss over who has the most willpower and focus on moving the way they want when theyre fighting for control.

They find out that when one of them sleeps, the other has unimpeded control.

So every step farther away from Zaun Jinx takes, Powder retraces them when she has control. Keeps hoping eventually Jinx will get tired of running and let her go back.

Needless to say, they don't get along very well at the beginning due to clashing goals.

Resentment wells up in Powder, stuck in Jinx's body. It keeps growing until she becomes bitter. Sad. Her comments about Jinx's actions during the day to day adventures go from curious, exasperated, etc--to attempts at cutting insults and dry, sarcastic mockery. Tired. She's exhausted with Jinx's shit.

She's so close to seeing Vi, yet so far.

---

On the other side of the coin; Jinx feels like she's just gone some new kind of insane. But unlike Powder, she's grateful to have company (that can't die) again. At the start she just bickers with Powder for the fun of it, along with the rest of their conversations.

That changes when Powder uses Jinx's confessions/conversations to herself or her voices while thinking Powder was asleep. (Haven't decided what she'll use against Jinx, but I know Powder doesn't actually know/mean the full impact of what she said--she doesnt have the full picture of Jinx, yet. She's angry and fed up with Jinx and lashes out after week or months of trying to keep it in).

Jinx goes quiet. She doesn't talk to Powder for days after that.

---

Thats when their relationship starts to change.

With a few days of silence from Jinx, Powder uses that time to travel to Zaun/Piltover. But she stops outside the city, because the fact that Jinx retreated so far that she hasn't even tried to take back control the whole time worries Powder.

She apologizes for what she said, and talks about the feelings that had been festering since she arrived in Jinx's body. About Vi (and Ekko).

Still no reply.

So Powder gives herself a day to explore Zaun and Piltover without looking for Ekko or Vi. Tries to get Jinx to talk while exploring the cities, but it just ends up with her continuously having one sided conversations. Powder finds she doesn't mind, though. Somehow she knows Jinx is listening.

Powder shares all the differences she sees in Jinx's reality vs her world. Tells Jinx stories about her family. Ekko. Benzo. Heimerdinger. Mylo. Claggor. Vander. Silco.

Vi.

While she told Jinx that her Vi is dead, she never shared the intimate details of the experience.

This time, she tells Jinx how it happened. How it felt. What it's been like for her all these years mourning and missing Vi.

How Jinx's Ekko showed Powder what she looked like in this world when he visited.

How much she just wants to see her sister. To hug her one more time.

Up on a rooftop alone and looking down at the two cities, Powder lets herself cry out everything that's been rotting in her the past few months living in Jinx's body.

When she's done, it's Jinx that carefully wipes Powder's tears away. That whispers hoarsely, "I'll take you to her."

---

next up in this AU is a Vi, Jinx, and Powder reunion (+ Cait and Ekko)

---

Bonus: I like to think that Jinx would ask for more stories of Silco and Vander.

[maxdibert]

what do you think of harry joined the ministry as an auror after the war? It doesnt quite sit right with me after all the things he went through—it felt like a damage control move from the ministry with how shitty they were handling the war as in “look he’s one of us!”. i always think that the better fit for harry is to become philanthropist

So, does it make sense for Harry to dedicate himself to hunting dark wizards? Yes.

Do I like seeing the protagonist end up becoming an active part of the establishment and, on top of that, essentially the magical equivalent of an MI5 agent? No. Because ACAB. Because the Ministry of Magic is a corrupt piece of garbage. Because working as the government’s lapdog seems pathetic to me, and to top it off, it leaves a very neoliberal message of “everything changes so everything can stay the same.” There’s no social progress—just killing the big bad villain, but the structure of society and the pillars upholding it remain untouched. They’ve replaced the aristocracy with the upper bourgeoisie, but the working classes? They can still go screw themselves.

I mean, it doesn’t surprise me because Rowling is like that—she’s a bourgeois masquerading as a progressive, but within a framework of neoliberal social democracy leaning conservative. So the end of her saga is a reflection of that.

Harry is bourgeois too—disgustingly rich, without any sense of social or class consciousness. He doesn’t fight Voldemort because Voldemort is an oppressor but because he’s bad, because he killed his parents, because he threatens him and his loved ones. There’s no ideological background to his personal fight. He doesn’t care about those things. The only one who cares even a little about how discriminatory structures in the Wizarding World are built is Hermione with the whole house-elf thing, and even she comes across as nauseatingly paternalistic about it. Very much a “white savior” type.

So yeah, the fact that Harry ends up being a magical cop and everyone else just becomes obedient sheep, neatly integrated into a society that’s still woefully behind in terms of civil, labor, and social rights compared to Muggle society—even in the ’90s—doesn’t surprise me either. They’re all privileged enough not to care about real problems. And those who aren’t privileged to start with end up becoming privileged by association or marriage (the Weasleys). So, yeah, it’s all fine.

Honestly, I can’t see Harry doing anything that wasn’t super bourgeois because, frankly, that’s what suits him. Being a war hero, spending his money, not giving much thought to how they might want to restructure society from the ground up given that it’s basically stuck in the Middle Ages… I don’t know, lol.

[cinnabeat]

its like omg none of this makes sense boo hoo when actually every single seemingly bullshit ability is entirely based on the game it came from

[slymanner]

God dude these two scenes and how roxie moves hurt my heart so so bad 🥹

it's like a mix of anger, feral, emotional breakdown, and complete sadness that just fucks me up soooo fucking bad.

it's like she's a pet who got abandoned by their owner but they see them again after years of sadness and depression of them being gone and leaving them like that and all that anger and sadness just manifest's into one bundle of emotion's towards them they cannot control.

roxie baby ur gonna be okay u deserve better :[

[limielle]

complexity

[lovesickeros]

☆ 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."

[youngpettyqueen]

I know the decision to have Julian's parents have him augmented was made on the fly but imo its pretty obvious from early on that Julian has Family Issues because he avoids talking about his family like the plague and I think they should've incorporated this into the Julian and Sisko dynamic right from early on because I think it would've made for some really compelling stories and moments and could've set up a REALLY interesting Julian and Jake dynamic which they kinda started to do but never fully went for

[starry-bi-sky]

The fun thing about CFAU danny is that he grew up in crime alley during his early developmental and foundational years, and was only in amity park for four years before his accident. Which means: potential to explore how this affects his personality. How does he act?

If he grows up in crime alley, which is rife with violence and crime and he like everyone else bares witness to it, how will that change who he is compared to canon?

Because he’s not gonna be the exact same as canon, thats not how development works. Something’s gonna change. So is he violent? Is he a thief? A liar? A follower, a leader? A backstabber? How selfish is he? Because selflessness gets you killed.

How willing is he to get shot/stabbed/murdered/trafficked for another person when he’s surrounded by people who take priority over themselves more than others? And is largely not taught otherwise? (And are valid for their self-preservation?)

What’s his kindness look like, is it rough? Tough love all the way through, showing other kids how to bloody up their knuckles to keep their own face safe?

Showing kids how to file down their teeth with the broken glass at their feet, so that when they bite they make it hurt?

Or is it more gentle, but still bloody, showing kids how to keep their head down and out of the way of the bigger, meaner kids barreling their way past? How to blend in, how to hide? How to not get caught?

Is it a third option, and always bloody, always hurting? Does he get in the way, take the hits? Always a shield, never the shielded? His nose having been broken so many times it’s permanently crooked, are his eyes always black? His lip always bleeding? Does he have scars?

Is it a fourth option, a fifth option, a sixth? Is it bloody? It may as well be, Crime Alley is always bloody. Always bleeding. Danny will see death, he will see suffering, he won’t unless he closes his eyes and covers his ears.

Does he have bad habits? Stealing, smoking, drinking, kids mimic the adults and even if his parents try to teach him out of it, it takes a village to raise a child. If the village is violent, then the child will be too. Is he malnourished? Jason was. He will be.

How does Dan change in comparison to canon vs a Danny who grew up in crime alley? Does he change at all? Or is Danny just more horrified by him, because he’s more similar to him than he previously thought?

What are his thoughts on Batman and Robin? Does he like them, think them myth, distrust them? How does his time in Gotham influence his perspective on the people there, on the world around him? His thoughts on Bruce Wayne (beyond the improbable him immediately figuring out Bruce Wayne = Batman)? The Elite? Does he have an accent? What’s his education like?

And CFAU Danny is fun because I get to explore that. He is ultimately still Danny - still kind, and selfless, sarcastic, punny. But how does he show it? What other traits does he have? What has changed, and what has stayed?

[arsenicflame]

Bootblacking is my favourite kink to give Izzy, because of course this guy would get his rocks off doing precise, repetitive, manual labour. OF COURSE he gets off on what is essentially just another chore on his list.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

meow〜

[skunkes]

the bad: i have been raised without much warmth from my parents in childhood, but also pressured to conform to familial authority, doubt myself always, and value familial connections above all else (<- failed at this, and feel guilt about it.)

but also in experiencing this i have been so isolated from the entire rest of the world and others, that it will be nearly impossible to create my own "family" -> find safety and comfort in anybody else once my family is Gone. despite dis i find it really difficult to break away from the familiar, disobey and disappoint, because, well, why are my wishes more important than anybody else's. why would I cause upset and distress in anybody, and exert so much effort into my doubt filled half decisions, for my meaningless little Wishes. being away would also mean less time with these people who I'll never see again once they're gone. being raised this way is definitely paying off for those who did so.

the good: yaaaay adjacent inspiration for writing talon lore