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inkskinned · 1 year

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you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.

you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.

instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.

you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.

your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.

because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.

so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.

all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.

#spilled ink #woke up at 530 to write this lmafo #me in a cold sweat:#how do i be normal #edit in the tags:#hey so i've seen y'all talk about like ... wondering if ur ''allowed'' to relate #like if this is about X specific diagnosis #and when i first posted it i really almost labelled it ''please don't assume this is about a specific condition''#because as an artist i am often walking this line of discussing a symptom or discussing my conditions etc #and sometimes yes ! i do want to talk about an experience that is specific to who i am and my condition #but sometimes the effort of the post is about the EXPERIENCE rather than the diagnosis #because yes i am not neurotypical and as a result that influences my work but it is ALSO true that there are many reasons #why someone might experience this particular vague horrible feeling that you are... almost being CHASED by what you ''really'' are.#that you're outrunning your symptoms... that you're not really normal you're just sort of a mockery of a person #.... that's a really isolating and horrible way to feel no matter why you are feeling it. and the nature of this PARTICULAR post is that #it is inherently talking ABOUT that sense of isolation & of feeling not-deserving & of minimizing your own experiences to make urself #palatable for society in a way that others find easy-to-deal-with....#this post is about a certain experience such that my impression is there's a higher likelihood that those who relate #would have more difficulty thinking they ''deserve'' to relate - that it doesn't REALLY belong to them #bc often we are the kind of people who are SO used to being alienated and set aside and ''different'' that we AUTOMATICALLY assume #that things are not ''for'' us... they never have been why would it start now #we are the kinds of people to be ... ''too normal for X diagnosis but too symptomatic to be normal''#[or as this post points out... so good at ''coping''/masking/hiding it that we essentially conform to whatever shape we're poured into]#but i have witnessed others already say in the tags ''thought this was about me but it's about X so it can't be''#and im like ... of course it was about you.#art is not a resource that is diminished by greater appreciation .#you reflect in whatever mirror fits your frame. not just the ones in your bedroom. not just the ones i specifically give you.#there will be - and often are - times that i will talk about my specific conditions... but if you're reading this #regardless of why you're here... we are here together. holding hands through space and time. and i love you for carrying it #and i know you're exhausted. i am too. but i understand. and i see you.

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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more clone^2 memes because i think they're funny

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #danny fenton is not the ghost king #so canon to clone^2 and clone damian the portal that ends up transporting damian to amity park is left pr ambiguous #so really how he got there could be one of many things whether it be through divine intervention or clockwork's doing or hell #it could've also been quite literally the 1 in 1 millionth chance that a natural portal opened up beneath him and sent him to amity #and was a happy accident #but the idea that the laz pits or another adjacent such entity heard damian wanting an older brother (he meant og damian but oops never-#specified) and then sends him to the one person who could fulfill that wish and make him happy at the same time.#was really funny to me within the context of the lilo and stitch meme. the meme can also be seen the other way around with danny as lilo #and damian as stitch. but danny being stitch was infinitely funnier and ~technically~ more accurate imo #danny technically IS a nice angel but also. he's a developing menace to society (just ask wes) and he's going to make damian one too #danny being from the midwest means he has a midwestern accent and thats not something the bats know how to handle when they finally meet hi #hey look at that! my meme making skills are steadily improving. im no longer making the same joke six different times in different formats #those first two images i made a few days ago the rest i made in the last thirty minutes in a spur of clone^2 induced inspiration #and procrastination of writing the cfau rewrite of the first post. we are 10k words deep folks and just barely got past the 1st gala reunio #dunking on the giw is a god-given right and danny WILL pass it down to damian

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 5 months

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Hey, I had a thought for the fantasy au! So on one of the previous versions of the WH website, there was a rhyme for the show that went:

A house is a place with four walls and a floor,

with a ceiling above and a lovely front door.

There's a bed to cradle you safely at night,

and windows to bring in the morning sunlight.

Your house is a mirror of just who you are,

A reflection that tells you to never stray far.

Which I thought might make a good incantation for when Wally properly summons Home (I can't remember if that's ever required for Warlocks but hey, it's still a fun poem regardless).

ohhhh this. i like this...

bonus og sketch! big ol eyes...

& no capalet because uhhhh eh nah and also i wanted Home's pendant to be on full display!

#and who cares if warlocks cant / dont canonically do that!#im not here to follow rules im here to Have Fun!#also the poem is even more fitting for this au given the nature of wally & home's pact #a manifestation like this must take so much power... and i imagine it makes them Way more vulnerable than one would guess #i mean home would just be out in the open. no protective shell or nothing.#and if home dies wally dies #they'd probably need to be at full power/strength or pretty near to it in order to pull off a full summoning #its a party trick to be pulled out only in the most dire of situations!#rambles from the bog #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #this was an Incredibly fun scribble!#a bit of a challenge and very rewarding!#also his outfit is just so fun to draw #i love giving characters So Many Layers and then immediately ripping those layers off #im starting to wonder why my first instinct with wally is to make him Show Chest #deepen that V! pop those buttons! in this house wally darling shows nonexistent cleavage!#ok sorry. in my defense its 3 am and i didnt sleep well last night anyway #actually no im not sorry #wally is attractive and i Will take advantage of that canon fact #disclaimer: i do not find him attractive in a 👀 way. hes a pet cat to me #a really fucked up pet cat...

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morgaseus · 4 months

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A little brainrot abt Dr. Ratio (he is kinda giving ‘archmage of the mages tower’ vibes. He acts like he doesn’t care about you but deep down he does! He just doesnt know how to act like it😞)

Not even a year in the relationship yet you already want to divorce him. You can’t stand him! That haughty arrogance of his! It feels like hes belittling you with every chance he gets! Its getting in your nerves! He even acts like you both arent married. Not even a simple greeting. What happened to hi, hello, goodbye, i’ll be away for a while, i’ll be home late. The food that you you leave for him for dinner always goes cold and uneaten. He just comes and go and do as he please! You know its a marriage of convenience, it probably means nothing to him, its just empty promises written in a paper after all. But you still want to be civil with him, he’s the man you married after all. But you couldnt take it it anymore! So, when the chance presented itself, you stormed in his office slamming the divorce paper in his desk.

“I want a divorce” you crossed your arms “i’m done with this marriage, sign it”

He looked at the paper for a moment and then at you. You gripped your left arm, feeling nervous under his stare. But you feel hopeful, he’ll probably sign it. There’s no strings attached anyways. But to your dismay he merely put the paper to the side and went back to whatever he was working with

“I wont sign it and as you can see I’m quite busy, please see yourself out”

Yep. You feel like you’re going insane

#this is a little something i came up with while playing the new SU mode lol #ever since dr.ratios appearance i havent stopped thinking abt him #i feel like hell do quite well with rivals to lovers trope but the ‘rivalry’ is onsided on readers end #if im being honest tho i didnt like dr.ratio at first💀 i feel if his my classmate hell be my natural enemy fr💀#i cant stand him grrrrr but my god is he🥵🤧#he also goes well with the fck buddy trope #and the childhood friends trope but you forget/dont recognize him bcs hes so different from when he was a kid??!#hsr x reader #dr. ratio x reader #star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio #veritas ratio #yuna works

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vaguely-concerned · 2 months

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the way garak looks at bashir as he puts all the clues together at the end of cardassians. the sheer 'look at that little twink go (affectionate, sexual overtones)' energy he manages to convey in the background there as bashir passionately does the presentation of their group project that garak did 80% of the actual work on. immaculate

#star trek ds9 #deep space 9 #star trek #garashir #elim garak #his lil face journey as they speak to the lady about rugal coming to the orphanage too. adorable. 'it's so over oh we're so back'#also the revelation that garak is high as a kite not only for this but for most of the first two seasons. hysterical #I love him so much already.#'yes yes I'm sure we're ALL very sad about the orphans or whatever. I wouldn't know I haven't experienced a natural emotion in years'#(let's hope he's at least fooling himself at this point)#ALSO also. sisko in his bathrobe in the middle of the night b/c 'so uh dad my unhinged new boyfriend wanted me to ask #if we could borrow the car. no he didn't say why. yeah I'm sure he has a driver's license he was like in the army or something #btw he snuck into my room while I was sleeping and I didn't notice a thing lmao isn't he cool???'#sisko you deal with so much all of the time and there aren't enough medals they could give you for it #bashir going 'tell me what's going on in your head or I stg I'll turn this runabout around'...... yes. yes wonderful

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markscherz · 2 months

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check out this neat little guy i found in a park in northern california! he was iridescent, so cool!

Pretty sure this is a Sceloporus, which are just awesome lizards. Did you get a chance to see the belly? Because it can be just *stunning*.

[src]

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taizi · 2 months

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gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought.

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay.

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt.

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down.

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again.

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget.

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there.

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.”

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without.

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly.

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there.

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.

“Now.”

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #my writing #svsss fic #sy transmigrates into a blank role in a world where his favorite character exists #and he's supposed to - what ? NOT fulfill his personal fantasy of being lbh's best friend ?? ok 🙄#naturally binghe has been obsessed since the moment this pretty boy first smiled at him #bingbing i love you you deserve a good shixiong / future wife and i'm here to deliver #ALSO sy's sword name is (yǒng) meaning perpetual ; eternal ; forever #and 亮 (liàng) meaning bright ; clear ; to show ; to shine #in my mind's eye zheng yang is golden so yong liang's silvery white is the perfect compliment #YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO THE SUN & MOON SHIP DYNAMIC 🫵#heaven and hell were words to me

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ghost-bxrd · 2 months

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"You're a kid whos mom was obsessed with a cult, and when you were just 12, she sacrificed you. You end in hell and expected to be tortured for eternity, but turns out the demon wanted a child of his own"

by WRITING PROMPTs

Maybe Bruce?

Aweee now, just imagine!

These cultists? Totally an accident that they for the ritual right. Jason doesn’t die so much as he just seem to kind of vanish into smoke and—

wtf.

Ok.

There’s- there’s a whole child.

Right at Bruce feet. All of a sudden.

A human child.

In hell.

And look, they couldn’t have chosen a worse demon to send a sacrifice to because Bruce? He’s a protector of children.

Because there’s something that so many story and demonology books get wrong.

Hell is for the bad people to be punished for all eternity.

And Bruce? And all the other demons populating hell? Well, they exist solely for one reason:

To punish sinners for the crimes they committed in life.

It’s a jail. Bruce and his fellow demons are the jailers. They don’t guard the doors of hell because they don’t want anybody to get in, they’re guarding them so nobody gets out.

But children, children have no business being in this place of torture and agony. Not ever. There’s a whole ass system in place to keep the good souls from accidentally wandering where they shouldn’t be.

So Bruce sees this tiny, starved child crying and screaming and— fuck. This is a Dick situation, isn’t it? He needs to go to earth. Again. And drag some people down to damnation all early and piss off death again. But you know what? Tough shit. They want a demon? They’re gonna get one.

(Jason is soon introduced to another strange human after he mysteriously pops back up on earth. His name is Richard “Dick” Grayson, and his teeth are too sharp and his pupils look almost reptilian in the right light, but he takes Jason to a big ass house with a real strange butler and lots of food.

Jason thinks he’s seen the weird Brucie guy who introduces himself as Dick’s dad somewhere before… but Jason is cool with not looking a gift horse in the mouth. After all, what are the chances he’ll fall into another cult’s hands so soon after the last?)

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