#phantomia

[hey-phantomia]

Hey, nice to meet you here!

I‘m PhantomiA and I would describe myself as an artist. Passion and joy is what I find in creating things and bringing my ideas to life by using different ways and styles of art, so I try a lot and I‘m not limited to a specific range or style. Most importantly, I like to have fun with my projects. My goal is to inspire other people, as well share my journey, my knowledge or experiences in an (hopefully) entertaining way.

And btw- thanks for sticking around and supporting me :) PhantomiA

[lastnightstoryart]

Duck Avenger

[dukemeropide]

"Back again, huh?"

[starlitpaths]

[SHARE A COFFEE]

[romancandlelight]

hello. do you sell explosives. i am asking for very legal reasons

for equally legal reasons i do! what very legal reasons would you like them for?

[huuuugestmoney]

♡ Egg time (i pointy at you)(affectionate)

[ egg meme ]

showbiz and conmanship mashed together, what could possibly go wrong!!!

bit of a gremlin but he gets away with it, dont worry bout it

anemo lynette + wind sampo = also has an affinity for the swooshy element and makes good use of it in shows and sleight of hand both

typically not very reserved in public but needs a good while to quietly recharge afterward

... wouldve enjoyed watching lynette and uncle lyney on stage, i think

bonus hair palette swap under cut

[trailblczed]

about: albedo!

Let's here your thoughts, Caelus! || Accepting.

❛ I may be dense, or "unlearned", but I'm not stupid- nor blind. I've seen that mark on his neck..

It looks rather similar to one I have---

I had an strange feeling about the man when I first ran into him at that bar.. uh.. Angel something.. An odd sense of comradery without even knowing his name. I want to ask Albedo some questions to see why that feeling sits there.. but I feel as if I shouldn't. Aside from it probably being a tad rude, I know people have secrets that they don't want to share. The last thing I want to do is make anyone feel pressured just to satiate my curiosity.

Besides, given enough time I may just find out on my own- whether figuring it out myself (not likely), or having Albedo be comfortable enough with me that he tells me himself. ❜

[herexcellencythealmightyshogun]

hey "nice" katana haha it fuckin sucks you hipster asshole [you turn around and reveal you are her excellency the almighty narukami ogosho raiden shogun from the inazuman shogunate] oh fuck

You dare to mock the Musou no Hitotachi? Such insolence will not go unpunished.

TAZES

[negawingduck]

Him!!!

[balemouns]

lynette wordlessly brings you 10 fresh fish impaled on a stick (happy father's day)

hmm... how long does it take to grill fish beyond recognition? no seasoning involved please. yes, that includes cooking oil. asking for a family cookout.

[huntersoath]

♡ bogglerinde egg /this is j. clond linat egg if you would like though

girl my art muscles suck right now (also i'm not putting a ton of effort into these so forgive me) alright this girl is literally the usain fucking bolt of the genshinverse. who made her that fast? why are both of her parents fucking sonic the hedgehog? we may never know too smart for her own good. a little bit of a troublemaker but like in a funny way speaks like google maps telling you where to go. no tone. no emotion. flat. robot. AI. I HOPE U ENJOY SENETTE

[balu8]

Lara Molinari: Duck Avenger

[cisoriaseams]

🎄 lynette's head cranks back slowly, like a wind-up toy. and whatever is she staring up at? well, she raises a gloved index and points.

"there's grass on your ceiling... want me to cut it down for you?"

As one sibling scurries away, fearful of what the cutthroat seamstress may do, another finds intrigue. Watching as he darts away, a hand comes to her hip. Perhaps a little too high strung. These children were not her own, they were informants, tools made to benefit a cause rife with controversy. Bleak, that the chance to be young can be ripped away so rapidly. A new kind of motivation, even if childish.

Pivoting on heels to turn back towards the door, she's met with the feline, and jumps back. How they all managed to be so quiet is beyond her. Combat boots with heels on the both of them, and yet no warning. "Archons above!" Defensive posture drops yet again, eyes looking the girl over. A familiar model, yet so different in the comfort of her own home. Observant, yet the curiosity in her eyes is different.

"Lynette. Don't you know better than that?" Lighthearted scolding as they walked through the hall towards the door. Though when Lynette finally speaks, the proposition of ruining the decorations that'd been put up is quite... intriguing. Had she just not noticed them?

"What? No. Don't do that." Face scrunching in confusion to the request. Eyes roll. "Lynette, do you know what tradition that decoration holds?" A pause, eyes glancing over the only girl of the three siblings. Poor thing had to deal with those boys as her brothers. No wonder she came out like this.

Before the feline can protest, lips meet the forehead of the girl, hand chaste in holding the back of Lynette's head. Another fleeting moment of affection, before drawing away. "Now make like your brother and don't tell the kids. If either of you ruin the surprise... well, let's just say it's not gonna be good." Lips purse as the cat follows the youngest siblings footsteps.

[fanfaire]

if lynette found more difficulty in this prompt than she had her last two, she does not express as much, but a poker face like lynette's is steely enough as it is.

you are watching a painter paint a portrait of your friend. that much is fine. lynette stands before the two people in front of her, one being lady furina herself—no pressure or anything, right?—while lynette strikes a contemplative pose, the one she uses to discourage chatty strangers in public for how deep in thought it makes her look.

the painter is doing an absolutely miserable job. miserable is a bit mean, but it sounds about right.

it’s so hard not to laugh. and this is where her role gets dicey. laughter is not something she would imagine herself doing in any situation with lady furina, but moreover, they ask her to do the opposite of everything she's been conditioned to know.

but you’re trying not to distract your friend—if they start moving, the portrait will be even more ruined. it's already beyond salvation, but lynette doesn't get to say that aloud. all that's left is to do her best, really.

the gloved hand at her chin stirs, moving over her mouth instead. she clears her throat once, twice.

"it's looking... good," she remarks, as unconvincingly as possible.

prompt : you are sitting for a portrait being painted of you, wondering why your friend is making a bunch of weird faces. are they trying to distract you?

AND FROM THE JAWS OF THE LION, she leaps into flame. this one's name is. . . lyney is her brother, yes, lynette. the twin never at the forefront of such indispellable shows of magic, rather powering the engine behind it, her brother's trusted assistant and partner.

she has never interfaced with her directly, nor seen her much off stage.

she supposes the same could be said for the other.

how easy it must have been, then, to agree to playing a hand in her grandest magic to date——that of deceiving and luring her own sovereign. it is far easier to tear down an image of something than a person, so what is the image she had seen? like much of fontaine, perhaps: a flagrant idol ; a burlesque that could not be permitted to go on? none of them knew ; she could not blame them. and yet——and yet.

"is it?"

regardless, it is a disservice in this moment to think of the other only in the ripples she'd made of the past. and furina is, after all, only this epoch's finest actress ; blue-altered blues that flick to the other girl's face betray nothing of these misgivings, vibrant wells only curiosity. in truth, she has sat for enough portraits, seen enough twists and turns of the face to suspect what this prompt is suggesting. but her character has not.⠀(⠀and lynette's " weird faces " are not so weird, nor such exaggerated faces regardless.⠀)

in half exasperation, half tease, she finally sighs heftily, making sure not to let it move her own face so much ; this is already well-practiced.

"if you need to use a restroom, please do so. you are starting to make me uncomfortable."

[mrch7th]

[ICE CREAM] - What's summer without ice cream stands at every corner? Careful, these treats melt fast!

"i brought us these." lynette holds out one of the stand's ice cream sticks. they're in the shape of... pom pom??? not that lynette recognizes that. but his gumball eyes are distorted and wonky. he looks very sad and deformed. oh well. she doesn't blink as she opens her mouth and chomps off a huge bite of her ice cream without even flinching.

snowflakes are idly fluttering between her fingertips— as though they could do anything to beat back this searing heat— when lynette approaches with their ice cream. march 7th turns both her gaze and attention away from the dancing snowflakes at the sound of her voice, and they melt away into water droplets on her fingertips. finally, reprieve from the heat!

and from a familiar face too! her entire expression lights up at the vague figure she spies on the sticks. it's kind of lopsided, but still. how cute! did they know what was going on here? maybe they've been here before? surely if they had their face on ice pops they must have some hand in it. ahh, but how could she possibly eat it now?

regardless, it's unfortunate that march can't take them back for the conductor to see— or, well, maybe she can try keeping them frozen with her six-phased ice? hm...that's definitely a thought— but a picture will preserve it for sure. one hand reaches for her share, her thanks on the tip of her tongue as the other goes for the camera ever at her hip with a grin—

and it immediately falls from her face as lynette takes a bite of the ice pop, decapitating the conductor entirely.

march's mouth falls open in shock, barely an attempt made to hide her gaping expression. “that—” she begins helplessly, blinking back and forth between lynette's face and the half-eaten pom pom in her hands. “that was—!” two-toned eyes pinch shut, a silent prayer sent up to the astral express, wherever it is in the sky right now. forgive me, conductor, i would never eat you! please don't kick me off the astral express!!

[entwinefates]

💐 lumidouce bells ofc :>

it's may day! send 💐 to give my muse a flower basket!

     ‎‎ what is teyvat? ( vast, wondrous, dangerous. ) what is paimon? ( small, loud, paimon. ) what is lynette? ( quiet. famous. offering her a basket bursting with lumidouce bells. ) what is

     ‎‎ ❝ ⸻eeeeeeeh!? ❞     ‎‎ surprise would be an understatement. much like a tea kettle whistling at boiling point, the little fae squeaks as her face burst into a blazing scarlet. in a futile attempt to make sense of the situation, her eyes flicker between violet bell-shaped flowers and the aloof magician's assistant, becoming increasingly frantic with each passing second. surely her eyes weren't playing tricks on her? this wasn't the older brother, the charmer, the one who would always pull rainbow roses out of his hat and then reveal they were doves all along? lynette was the one giving her flowers?      ‎‎ ❝ whuh!⸻bwuh!⸻b-but shouldn't this be the other way around...? ❞    

     ‎‎ ❛ phew okay, so that means lynette does like you! ❜      ‎‎ amidst her frazzled mind, the thought struck like an arrow, bringing a flood of relief through her body. despite being direct⸻or perhaps because she was so direct⸻paimon always found difficulty in understanding lynette's thoughts at any given moment. in retrospect, however, it seems a little foolish. lynette is one of the travelers' friends, and that means she's paimon's buddy too, right? they're a two-for-one package deal here!

     ‎‎ regardless, the little fae is all too grateful for the gift, clinging onto the flower basket even as the weight clearly causes her to dip lower in the air.      ‎‎ ❝ but thank you, lynette, paimon will take care of these like her own, uhm, children! ❞     ‎‎ archons, she'll have to tidy out her room in the teapot to make space, won't she? there goes her afternoon. . .