#as always ask box is open

[green-kitty-02]

pines twins headcanons!

mabel ran a roblox youtube channel for at least six months (dipper edited all the videos. he told her that she'd have to pay him, but he secretly enjoys it and never asks about payment again. mabel forgot)

this ended though after mabel got banned for getting into fights in the chat (dress to impress..........)

they go to the roller rink together: mabel cause she can actually skate and can do (read:attempt) tricks in her customized skates and dipper so he can play the low quality arcade games. they both get slushies together once dipper's exhausted the games and mabel has gotten scraped up enough.

dipper ran cross country, mabel did theatre

she's not getting leads in shows, but she's by far the most enthusiastic and decides to use her time "lending her talents" to the costume department. the school's entire production of oklahoma had them all wearing sweaters

i feel like she convinced dipper to eventually join crew (either lighting or scenic)

mabel gets superrrrrr into shrinky dinks (she makes earrings, rings, little keychains). dipper puts a few on his backpack. mabel also mails a whole box to ford, stan, wendy, and soos.

dipper joins the hacking team at his school and participates in hackathons (he's decently good! his college counselor tries to get him to major in computer science, but he decided against it and instead wants to major in history and film).

both are absolute BEASTS at just dance

after the summer in gravity falls, both develop some sleeping problems (and some recurring nightmares....). So once they have licenses, they'll go on long night drives.

sometimes they get fast food, other times they go sit in the park, sometimes they just drive around.

they talk about the good parts a lot, the bad is often left unsaid.

sometimes they (usually dipper) will try and broach the subject, but it never has gotten too far. for better or worse.

dipper pines they might be giants listener hear me out

mabel floats between different jobs in high school but her favorites were working at an ice cream shop and a party supply store.

dipper only ever works one place during high school and it's front desk at a local historical society (he wrote about six emails to the owner begging for the job, eventually they relented)

while neither twin tells the other, both of them have called stan's phone when they know he's asleep, just to hear his voice on the answering machine so they don't forget it.

[polyamorousmood]

Poly mood is trying to figure out couch sitting positions for a movie night where everyone can be next to their partners, and using actual math (Ew)

There's an XKCD for everything

[clinicallyinsanedumpsterrabbit]

So I may have got The Book of Bill and it has me in a slight tiny itty bit of a death grip hyperfixation where all I've been able to imagine is his pathetic toxic ex ass

This pathetic triangle has once again parasitically wormed his way into my brain after years of absence

Also he totally would try and gaslight Ford and say he probably just lost the shirt when he stole it if ever asked where the shirt went

Ok so I could've put a ton of things in that last, panel, so I did, with some joke suggestive ones as the last two below the cut

I'm going to explode him with stock video explosions a bajillion times over

[f1-stuff]

Did carlos also used the friend word? Do you know when?

Hi, so I actually compiled some links mostly for myself, but also for you and anyone else interested. See below the cut!

Times Charles has referred to Carlos as a "friend":

'He has obviously become a friend.'

‘We were already good friends before we joined Ferrari.'

'We have a very special relationship. I mean, we are obviously friends outside the track as well. We are sharing good moments. We spend so much time - I mean, I see Carlos more than my own family...'

'He's a super nice guy, he's super easy to get on with and, uh- straight away we understood that we had a lot of interest outside racing in common. And now I can call him a friend, outside of racing.' (newest instance, at the end of their teammate era...)

Times Carlos has referred to Charles as a "friend":

'My teammate and I are friends off the track, we get along very well and we have a very good relationship. And we make a very good team. I think that if there is something that worked and works in Ferrari, it is the two drivers...' (translated from Spanish)

'We've been teammates for four years. There's been barely any situation where we've had a contact, or we had a misunderstanding. And even if we've had them, we've always moved on and we've always remained friends and had a really good relationship." (at the end of their teammate era...)

This is just what I could track down, but if anyone knows of others let me know!

Carlos has spoken about how he and charles get along very well, but that it's hard for him (and other drivers) to truly be friends with their teammates bc they're always so competitive with each other, and there's so much pressure to beat one another. ("Friend is a strong word that I don’t like using for anything or anyone.") And combine that with what we know about how, as a kid, he was surprised by other kids he thought were his friends running him off track and out of the race, we can see how much weight he applies to the 'friend' label.

To Carlos, I think a 'friend' is someone that a part of his brain would hesitate to race too hard against, and he can't let that happen with his teammate, who he wants and needs to beat more than anyone. He can afford to maybe leave Lando or Alonso a little more space on track bc he values his relationship with them as friends, and they're not currently his teammates. But he can't let himself have that relationship with Charles, or, for that matter, Alex next season.

Will he be able to say that he and Charles are friends more readily next year when they aren't teammates any longer? I think so. That was certainly the case with Lando. But I also think his relationship with Lando was a bit different - Lando was almost like a little brother to him. With Charles, he's more firmly a peer, and I think that hyper-competitiveness between them may always linger, right up until they aren't racing eo anymore, maybe especially bc their partnership was cut short before either could win a championship as teammates.

Time will tell, but it's clear that they already view their time together very fondly. They've spoken plainly about 'hating each other' inside the helmet when they've battled and disagreed, but that they always make up after two minutes. It's beautiful that they can always come back to the respect they have for one another. It's a unique relationship, and I look forward to seeing how it evolves in the years to come. ❤️

[the-chains-cafe]

Hi guys no I’m not dead I just had the flu

Wanted to post this way earlier but I just couldn’t draw so…

I don’t think I’m gonna draw the rest so I’ll just leave what happened after the cut

..oh wait I can’t do that

Ok I’ll just leave it here cuz this is a different phone cuz I (hopefully temporarily) lost my main one

So Ravio is walking home from school after an audition for the theatre club and the next musical they’re doing (which is: Charlie and the chocolate factory)

And he calls Legend cuz he wants to tell him news about it and legend picks up and he’s like “sup” and ravios like “OMG BITCH GUESS WHAT” and legends like “OMG- WHATT!!”

And Rav tells him that he got the part of winki wolla

Strike that reverse it (höhö)

(Ravio literally makes that joke. Legend face palms)

Ravio then thinks he’s just gonna go to the cafe cuz what’s he gonna do at home, study? Nope! He’s not playing Emmett anymore so that vibe is out the window-

So he takes the bus from their (legend and Ravios) apartment and gets off near the chains cafe

SO

Legend meanwhile is chatting with costumers (including his bestie fable)

And he’s made some Christmas cookies and he’s them handing out. And he gives fable one that looks like her. And she’s like “omg it’s me. OMG I TASTE DELICIOUS!! Those cannibals are onto something”

At that very moment Ravio walks in and he hears that convo and he immediately goes

“everything here is eatable. Even IM eatable. But that’s called. ✨C A N N I B A L I S M ✨ and is IN FACT frowned upon. In Most Societies.” *takes a Cookie and eats ir jumpscaring legend*

If anyone Wants to draw that or write it be my guest I am off to my ball, and I’ll see you guys Tomorrow when my social battery is -69%

Edit: why did no one tell autocorrect autocoFucked “frowned” into “grosses”. Whatever I fixed it

[xxri]

prsk requests and one milgram

[certainty2witch]

Monkey D. Anole

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Birthday: 11/5

Height: 2.69m

Age in the draw: 20 (adult) / 8 (kid)

Sexuality: Straight (ally)

Hobby: Reading, exploring

Likes: Revolutionary army, his family, studying, writing everything on his notebook, pic nics for his whole family, organising plans, nature.

Dislikes: His sibling Iguana jokes, the mess, when someone isn’t organised, people who doesn’t respect others.

Devil fruit: None

Haki: Observation

Parents: Crocodile - Monkey D. Dragon

Siblings: Monkey D. Iguana (twin) - Monkey D. Luffy

Step siblings: Donquixote Doringneck - Donquixote Komodo - Dracule Howlette

Iguana’s twin brother, third kid of Dragon and Crocodile.

A polite, organised and tidy boy, that loves to write everything that he thinks or sees around him in his notebook.

Usually calm and educated, loves to assist people that needs help and is always ready to support who he loves. Logic and perfectionist, sometimes lose himself in his plans and ideas.

He loves nature and animals, even bugs are fascinating for him.

Is the only one that never ate a devil fruit, because he wants to be the one that his family can rely on in the worst of cases (aka drowning in the sea).

Has an immense sense of orientation and observation, and for this reason his only haki, the observation one, is really powerful. He probably has the best observation haki between his family, that even surpasses Howlette’s.

Is not the best when is about fighting, he prefers creating strategies, for this reason he always fight with a group, where he usually suggests how to act and attack.

He is Joy’s boyfriend (daughter of Buggy and Shanks).

He has good relationships with all his siblings, but prefers the company of Komodo, since he is really similar to him, but not so much organised.

Probably the only one in the family that has a really good relationship with Crocodile. He also has a good one with Dragon too.

Crocodile chose his name, that is literally the name of the reptile Anole.

……

Finally one one my ocs with a description!! If I remember something I’ll add it 🫡

I highly suggest to check this pinned post, for general informations!

[sayheyjrey]

I'll be answering a bunch of your questions today :D Stay tuned and keep em comin

[tiredbread]

can i sidebar with you real quick?

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Well someone's home early." Darry ruffles Pony's hair as he tries to slip past him 'n into the hall. Pony ducks under his hand, makes a small noise in hello. Darry immediately straightens up, notes the lack of work shirt he left with this mornin'. "Ponyboy Michael back it up 'n bring it here."

Pony lets out a long groan but turns 'n trudges back. Darry rakes his eyes over him. Pony stares at the ground. "Why are you back so early?"

"'Cause I got fired ok! Jesus!" Pony throws his arms up, stomps the ground, 'n whips his head to look back at his older brother.

"You what?" Pony lets out a huff 'n quick smart Darry's hand flies up to cuff him around the ear. "Pony this is the fourth time what the hell happened? And let me tell you it better be a damn good reason."

Pony can only match Darry's glare for a moment before he drops back down to starin' at the carpet. "I kinda called a customer a bitch."

"You huh?"

"Look, Darry, you weren't there so lay off, ok! She was talkin' to me like a was trash, alright? I dunno. She was actin' like I was stupid 'n she called me a son of a bitch 'n I told her I wasn't her damn son last I checked." Pony hitches his shoulder 'n Darry is suddenly glad Pony's scowlin' down at the carpet by the way his lips twitch. It wasn't funny.

"Ponyboy Michael since when has it ever been ok in this house to call a woman that?"

"Since she deserved it real bad." Pony mutters 'n Darry's fingers catch his temple. "Ow."

"I outta skin you just for that."

"Aw, Dar, look. I'm sorry, ok? I ain't discriminatin' or nothin'. If she'd have been a guy he would have been actin' like a bitch too." Pony scuffs his toe on the floor 'n Darry shakes his head in bewilderment.

Glory, sometimes Pony would say somethin' 'n it would make Darry feel like he was twenty 'n Pony was fourteen again 'n Pony's moods were enough to make him want to put the kid's head through a wall. 'N then he'd blink 'n they were sixteen 'n ten 'n he actually would. But that one hurts a bit 'cause then they had someone to holler 'n make them make up.

"Pony, how old are you?" Pony rolls his eyes, already knows Darry's line.

"Too old?" Pony glances up 'n Darry arranges his features into a passable impression of their ma's does it look like I'm laughin', mister? glare.

"Too damn old." Darry nods firmly. "You're sixteen now, Pone. You need to get a hold of that mouth. How many times are we gonna have to have this conversation?"

"Too damn many times- yeouch!" Darry's palm clips the back of his head 'n Pony's hair falls into his eyes.

"Don't you go gettin' fresh with me lil' boy." Pony's dry humor suddenly falls away 'n he's spittin' mad.

"Darry, you wouldn't get it, alright? I'm sick of workin' for a bunch of assholes who treat me like shit 'n takin' bull all day from people who look at me like I was born to spit shine their shoes. You just don't get it." Darry sighs, rubs a hand over his eyes.

"Pony, c'mere." This has become their routine. Back 'n forth, stern, sarcastic, angry, tired. Pony seethes but allows Darry to push him to drop down into one of their kitchen chairs. "I wouldn't understand, kid? I've been bustin' my back since you were twelve on the roofs of people who think greasers were born to bag their groceries 'n clean their floors. If anyone gets it, Pone, I do."

Some of the tension drops out of Pony's shoulders 'n he worries at his lip.

"You think Soda likes havin' to work on the cars or people who treated him like a failure 'n a dead-end dropout when he quit school?" Pony winces but Darry is damn tired of havin' to chase the kid around his own self-righteousness so he drives the lesson home with, "Do you think Dad liked patchin' up shingles from dawn til dusk? Or ma washin' the clothes of the women she used to meet after school who married up 'n moved west 'n forgot all it took was a bit of bad luck to end up right back on the East side? Sometimes the world ain't fair, Pone. Don't mean you get to lose your temper every time someone gets your goat."

The angers dropped right out of Pony 'n Darry sighs, pulls his chair so the kid can lean against his chest. He does without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, Dar. Sometimes... I dunno. It ain't fair. You're ten times the person those assholes in their fancy houses will ever be. Soda don't deserve to be treated like he's stupid. I just... I dunno. How do you deal with it?" Pony pulls his head back, blinks up at him with those green eyes that look like the sea after a storm's rolled through.

"Y'know... back when I first started workin' with Dad, a thousand years ago," Pony snorts, "I was mad about that all the time. God, I couldn't stand the way they looked at him. The way they talked about us. I didn't know how the hell he did it." Darry strokes his hand absent-mindedly through Pony's hair 'n he presses closer to him.

"It was just too much for me one day. We were behind schedule 'n behind on men 'n the guy who had hired us was hollerin' his head off 'n I turned right around 'n socked him right in his nose." Pony sits back suddenly, eyes round in surprise.

"You?" Darry chuckles, brushes Pony's bangs off his face.

"Yeah, kid, I don't know why you're so shocked. We've had enough fights to last a lifetime." Pony rolls his eyes, shifts around in his chair.

"I guess, I dunno. You always have it so locked down."

"Yeah, well, I do now. But it took a lot of time. Glory, maybe you were too young to remember properly but I swear sometimes I turn around 'n it's like dealin' with a younger me." Darry snorts at a memory 'n Pony raises an eyebrow. "I remember one time ma had gotten so sick of me 'n she told me she hoped one day I had a kid just like how I was to give me the same grief. Glory, I think she'd be laughin' now."

Pony's smile is a little wet but it's there 'n Darry won't mention it as long as Pony doesn't point out Darry wipin' at his eyes with the back of his sleeves. "What did Dad do? When you punched that guy?"

"Well, he was plenty mad. He sat me down 'n I told him it was unfair that we had to take whatever kinda treatment they decided to give us. 'N he grabbed me by the shoulders 'n looked at me like he always did when he was real serious 'n he said Darrel you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

Pony's face twists up in confusion 'n Darry laughs. God, he could look straight back through the years 'n picture himself starin' up at their dad the same way. "What does that have to do with anythin'?"

"I'll tell ya, kid. He dragged me back in the next day 'n made me apologize 'n then he shook the man's hand 'n left him with this sticky sweet smile 'n promise that he was real sorry for me 'n my behavior. Then he hauled me up a ladder 'n showed me how he would repair the man's roof so it would hold for another six months. Exactly. 'N when we left he shook hands 'n left him his card with the offer to come back if anythin' else ever went wrong. 'N you know what? The man was so impressed with his attitude 'n his work when that roof went up again in six months he called dad right back."

Darry chuckles 'n refocuses on Pony whose jaw is damn near on the floor. "That true?"

"Now, don't go makin' a liar out of me. Every word."

"Shit. You know? That sounds just like Dad."

"And he was right. Look, it sucks kid. It does. People are never gonna look at you like they should. There are always gonna be assholes who think they're better than you. You keep your damn head up 'n it doesn't matter at all. You fix the roof. 'N if it leaks you make sure you make yourself a lastin' impression."

Pony bites his lip, plays with the bottom of his shirt. It takes another minute but he nods, shoots Darry a lil' grin. "You know, I'm sure I left an impression."

"Yeah, like the type of impression I'm about to leave on your ass, kid." Pony yowls indignantly 'n dives off his chair to get away from Darry's snatch. Darry doesn't go for him again, settlin' for rollin' his eyes 'n not meanin' it at all.

"Hey, Dar?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I'm gonna go back to the store tomorrow 'n ask for my job back. D'you mind... vouchin' for me?" Darry studies him for a moment. Pony's heart always was too big. The unfairness would always hurt. But the kid would figure out how to muddle by. Darry had.

"Sure, Pone. Just this time? Don't go ruinin' my reputation by callin' no one a bitch." Pony grins 'n opens his mouth. Darry cuts him off with a pointed finger 'n a raised brow. "Even if they deserve it real bad."

[melestasflight]

Then Fingon the valiant resolved to heal the feud. Of all the children of Finwë he is justly most renowned: for his valour was as a fire and yet as steadfast as the hills of stone; wise he was and skilled in voice and hand; truth and justice he loved and bore good will to all, both Elves and Men, hating Morgoth only; he sought not his own, neither power nor glory, and death was his reward. 

"Quenta Silmarillion", The Lost Road and Other Writings

[neosero]

Can I please request a part two to [01:15], were the reader ignores them afterward the fights/never death experience and when the characters try to talk to them the reader just ignores them and walks away and the characters feels a little guilty, I'm invested in what will happen next. Probably a lot of angst but maybe some fluff at the end

[ 12:30am ]

and yet, you still resist

collection | gods, the all powerful - #genshin

↳ [ 01:15pm ] and sometimes you have to remind yourself they're gods |

↳ pt. ii [ fontaine version ] |

↳ [ 12:30am ] and yet, you still resist |

wc | 5.3k total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; dark themes; kinda starts at a random moment of time sorry lol, stalking ( venti ); implied-kidnapping, forced-intamacy ( zhongli & neuvillette ); reader gets makeup put on them but still nothing specific to gender, also i do not know a thing about makeup lol ( neuvillette )

a/n | SORRY THIS TOOK FIVE MONTHS this one is for you anon! kinda forgot about the fluff but still i hope you like the follow up!! this is an extentsion of the linked fics above. though it isn't required it would be best to read that for a clear picture on the character dynamics

( extended author’s note at the end!!! )

THE ANEMO ARCHON Lord Barbatos | wc. 2k+

"So patchy, what's your story?"

The firewood tumbles in on itself within the pit. Ember sparks fly high, dancing between you and the other soldiers that crowd around the flame. It does little to combat the chilling air of Dragonspine, but it does provide enough of a haven for your group to forgo the mission to sit in idle company.

Chatter is loud amongst the knights and you would think this some caravan camping out over a reconnaissance party. You have a thought to hush the group as to not alert your targets, but with three days of just constant snow and no other signs of life you hold your tongue for their sanity.

“Hey! I asked you a question.”

The cold has been a lot better against your bandages than you had first thought. The old wounds from the incident haven’t completely healed, but the breeze feels like a gentle cold wrap around the warm ache of your body. Albeit not the best place for it, you feel more relaxed than you have for a while.

“Do you have a problem with me or something?!”

The once boisterous ensemble goes silent as all eyes turn to the quarrel. A soldier you don’t bother even trying to recognize has suddenly stepped up to your face. It's obvious he is new to the ranks; his armour is still freshly polished and not a dent in sight. You can catch the edgings of a family crest on the hilt of the sword he reaches for at his side.

A spoiled child of wealth. He'll probably last two more days before he turns back.

"Ignore him. Recruits are always ill-mannered to their seniors their first time out.” A man — Druig, the captain of your team — grabs the boy by the neck of his armour, dragging him back to his stool before he causes anymore of a scene. This brings back the laughter of the knights and the boy sits arms crossed with cheeks tinted pink.

"Though you could humor him." Druig boasts again, loud and obviously falling victim to the jug of wine in his hands. He offers you some carelessly, the liquid spilling over the rim and staining the pure snow red. You raise a hand in rejection and he happily takes another swig for himself. "Hell, all the lads could use a fine tale!"

Another cheer into the night. Druig has been determined to get you to open up since you took the commission. Although you can see the logic behind it — as your employer he deserves to know some part background — it never occurred to you as something that should be this importance. But with three days of begging and now several pairs of eyes awaiting the tale, there is really no escaping the memory.

You sigh deeply, already regretting the decision. You squat to the fire.

"It was the wind. Strongest I had ever seen."

The image is so clear in your head; the ache is still so painful in your bones that it's difficult to forget.

That fear is so easy to remember.

"An Eye of the Storm. The Eye of the Storm. An elemental lifeform so powerful it could be at level with an Archon. It raised the ground. It shook the trees bare. I didn't stand a chance."

Your voice falters as the face of Lord Barbatos flashes within the flames. His crazed smile reopens closed wounds and suddenly your skin feels itchy all over again.

The existence of Gods in the mortal realm hangs a heavy shadow over Teyvat. Stormterror's Rampage, the presumed death of the Geo Archon, the being that is Inazuma's Shogun; they are what mere humans cannot equal or challenge in any possible regard. And yet we still choose to worship the unknown.

"The Archons must have blessed you to survive that."

It's laughable really; how they can have so much faith in a being who spends most of their time drunk in a tavern while the rest of the world begs for their fortune.

"We live in a world where people can control the elements like magic and beasts can grow taller than trees- taller than mountains. My life is no blessing from a God and it never will be." You spit with a fire.

The impious statement shocks the soldiers still. With the Archon being held in such a religious light in Mondstadt, your behavior naturally rouses anger. The emotion slowly seeps through most of the men who no doubt have been within the Knights for sometime and upheld the Archon's image. It's obvious you've stained what little welcome you had within the group.

There is no reaction when you stand or when you begin to turn off into the cold of Dragonspine you wave over your shoulder, "I'll get more wood for the fire."

You walk past angry men unapologetically. The boy from earlier spits at your feet as you march by but it doesn't deter you in the slightest. Their beliefs aren't yours to taint in this moment and with direct orders from the Acting Grand Master you refrain from overstepping.

You travel far enough through the snow that the flames from the camp cannot be seen through the blizzard fog. With enough space to hear your own thoughts again, you can finally be at peace with the mountain. The snowflakes fall around you in clusters. Pinecones tumble from rustling trees with silent thuds into the layered snow. Small critters scurry around foraging for their next meals.

You breathe into your hands for warmth. While you are out you might forage yourself. There won't be much firewood to find in this area. The blizzard has dampened much of the fallen twigs and searching for dry wood is like looking for a needle within a haystack. Still you kneel to the floor to keep yourself busy and keep a clear head.

A boar's grunt catches your attention. Just over a shrub you can catch sight of the native beast's shaking fur. It's back is turned to you and it seems to be trying to scare something hidden in the bush ahead. Of course you cannot see anything noteworthy in the bush, yet you do not doubt the animal's senses.

Without warning it barrel's head first at the plant. You expected a few things: a rabbit, a weasel, a few clustered crystalflies, another boar even. With having taken a commission that was far from civilization — far from him — anything else should have been what came out of that bush. Instead it was a man.

He falls to the ground with a yelp, the weight of the boar's charge having kicked up snow in its wake. Your first instinct should have been to question the strange man's presence in such a place like this, but your apprentice training kicks in before you can think it through. You approach him to help.

He is covered in snow from head to toe, and when you bring him up most of it falls. You are about to tell him off, the whole knightly script just at the edge of your tongue as you rub off more snow. It was odd the way he stood beside you at an angle like he was trying to hide something. Just as you move to speak you do catch the edge of what he is hiding. You can’t forgot its shape even if you wanted to.

It was a lyre. Your fingers still at his sides. Slowly you look to the man’s face and those bright green eyes meet your gaze head on.

This was no man but a God. The Anemo Archon: Lord Barbatos.

You jump back hastily, nearly tripping over your own feet to get away. Venti brushes the remaining snow off his body with no urgency and stands upright like this was some casual meet. "Long time no see."

He takes a step forward and on reflex you draw your sword. He holds up his hands in surrender but you won't take any chance... not this time. Your whole body visibly shakes, your hands break out in cold sweats and breaths are labored. Why is he here? What possibly could have brought him to the one place you had been sure he wouldn't be?

"You look good." He speaks after a short silence and you scuff to the trees. "What the fuck are you doing here!"

It isn't a question, you demand an answer. You grip the sword with two hands to steady yourself.

"You haven't been home for a while so I got worried. I never got the chance to apologize to you and it feels like you're avoiding me." He pouts like some concerned friend. Your eyes constantly flicker from his own ones to the lyre at his side. How far could you get if you make a run for it? "And the guild said you were taking more out field commissions so I..."

"You what?" Venti doesn't answer quick enough, instead taking a cautious step forward which makes you move to widen the distance. "I've been... following your scent through the wind."

You feel gross all over, like you need to scrub the skin off your bones in order to erase whatever scent he is talking about. He's been tracking you... hunting you... stalking you by smell.

"How long?"

"I know how weird this may sound but-"

"How long have you been here!"

His hands drop to his sides and he casts his gaze to the distance, a habit you hate spikes up old memories. "Two days." He admits regrettably.

Oh god. He's been watching you from the start, maybe even before you reached the mountain.

"But I was just coming to apologize. I was waiting for the right time and you looked so happy that I jus-"

Your throat has run dry and the freezing temperatures aren't helping the situation at hand. Your voice cuts in sharp with what little courage you have left, "Listen — and I'll only say this once."

"I want nothing to do with you ever again. Okay! Go sniff out that Honorary Knight or something just... stay away from me."

His face contorts from one of deep sorrow to one of pain. Just like that day. It takes a few beats, a few moments of false hope that you broke him enough to make a run for it. He laughs to himself dimly and you feel your strength waning. Your hope is crushed with his next words.

"I think you should let the wind carry you a bit longer, unless you wish to fall into the storm once again."

The lyre shifts a deep crimson faster than you can blink and that weighted fear returns tenfold. The blizzard grows in ferocity. Various rocks, wood and helpless animals are picked up with the wind and flung out in various directions. You can barely keep your own footing now and he hasn't even begun his song.

His hands raise, ready to start his torture. All you can think of is the end. Preparing yourself for those wretched noises. But all you hear is... silence.

"What the hell happened to you?" You nearly jump out of your skin. Druig comes from behind a tree, puzzled.

You turn to where Barbatos stood only moments ago but only see a tuft of falling snow gliding in the air. Your eyes shift frantically throughout the open space from the tops of trees to the distant expanse of the now tame snowy night. There is no blood on the snow, no signs of a storm, not even the outline of footprints.

Nothing.

"I saw... it was... uhm... " Your heavy breathing cuts your sentence short and you know you must look crazy to the captain. He was here. He was right here and yet. You're still shaken, the thump of your heartbeat not only in your muscles but also your fingers and your head. What just happened?

Druig stands waiting for some sort of answer and you blurt your first thought. "It was a boar."

"Well, it must have been some boar, huh?" He doesn't question your lie and you bet it on the wine. You nod to him trying your best to look as calm as possible. "Anyway, we'll be going deeper into the mountain. I'd... understand if you didn't want to continue."

"No! I'll stay, I have to see this through." You admit to get your mind on track. The man laughs heartily with a smack to your shoulder. The pain is searing but it grounds you to the moment. Druig leads you back to camp. He does most of the talking, while you try to calm yourself down unsuccessfully. Barbatos had followed you here, has been following you and probably still is. You're all too aware of every little rustle in the wind, every possible shake and stir in the air. This obsession will be your undoing.

The faint strum of a lyre follows your every step. Whether it's the tune of a bard's promise or an Archon's wraith sends a chill over your entire body.

THE GEO ARCHON Rex Lapis | wc. 1.2k+

For three thousand years you’ve been at the side of the Geo Archon Rex Lapis following the events of the Archon War. 

For the first thousand years you thought you could fight him. After having dragged you back from the rubble of your home, he chained you to the foot of his throne. You thrashed, clawed, screamed and bled to get free. Any food offered you tossed, whenever he’d try to touch you you’d bear your teeth like an animal, and every single day you pulled at that chain. But days turned to month and month to years and years drained you until you couldn't fight anymore.

He breaks the chains when you got too weak run from his touch. Morax fed you by hand, held your chin to make you chew, he kept you close at all times and when you pushed he’d pull back harder. He nursed you till your strength returned and even when you got strong enough to run he never let you get far. He’d make the earth swallow you whole and spit you right back at his side where he made you think you belong. 

For the next thousand years you had thought you could beg. Time brought upon something you never saw coming for the Geo Archon: change. When you met some four thousand years ago, he was ruthless. He massacred thousands and leveled the earth whenever he saw it fit, but he was different then. He had begun to changed.

His touch is gentle, his tone less demanding and his stare was more human. With as long as he had lived and seeing as so many of his treasured friends die, the reality of being the strongest — of being immortal — has finally set in. You had thought this change would help free you but your pleas were always met with this same look of sadness. Morax would tell you every single time, almost apologetic: you cannot leave.

You didn’t believe him, you never did and still don’t. It's only on the night you decided to run that you understand his sadness. You make it to the bridge of the Harbor, the one thing that you separated you from the rest of the world. The yaksha, the only one still living, didn’t chase you. The earth did not move to block your path. Freedom is so close. You ran across the bridge under the belief it would be all over like waking from a bad dream.

You should've known better. As soon as your foot crossed the end you were forced back. The pulse of it stunned you and almost left you winded when you fell to the floor. You were sure you weren’t followed. When you stood with a lot more cautiously, nothing seems out of the ordinary until you caught sight of it in the moonlight.

It was a barrier. Morax’s contract to you. A barricade that surrounded the entire Harbor to keep the all evil out, and you in.

You ran around the whole port, and that barrier was there to meet you head on. You even tried your luck out at sea, you had swam for the distant boat but all there was to greet you was bars to your prison. When you seam back to shore soggy and exhausted, Morax was there to greet you. He looked down at you with sad eyes and all you can hear were those words. 

You cannot leave. You screamed and cursed his name till your voice broke that night.

And now, three thousand years later, you're left here.

“Please leave it all to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and we’ll see to their gentle passing.”

You bow to the grieving family as they make their way to the exit. Your movements are robotic; you bend deeper than you should and smile too cheerful for having just discussed the ceremonial process of their approaching burial. Playing human hasn't come easy for you…

“You’ve improved.”

…And neither has your hatred for the archon who imprisoned you. Well archon no more.

Morax has died, now replaced by this… Zhongli. His renounce of his divine position was a long time coming, you had seen it first hand. He lives his days posing as a mortal, the god that captured you is gone but you still cannot forgive him. You will not forget what he did to you.

You ignore what he said and move past him to the Director. You offer her your goodbyes and leave the building without sparing him a glance. His gaze follows you with that sadness he's always had. It's been decades since you found out about the barrier and ever since then he’s missed the sound of your voice. He couldn’t care what you said; you could promise to kill him or even expose his truth but all he would care for is the fact that you addressed him.

You walk for a long while. You go through the plaza, by the markets and down past the docks. You stop at a shoreline just off the docks — it's the farthest place you can go from the Harbor that grants you that little sense of freedom. You go there most nights to watch the sun set. Most nights you're alone, left to bask in your own thoughts of the past and what would have been. Some nights, like tonight, Zhongli joins you just before the sun has completely gone. He doesn’t speak to you because he knows you won’t answer. He just stands right by your side until you’ve had your fill and left for home. Tonight is different though, because this time he speaks and you aren’t prepared for it.

“My dear gemstone… I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”

In the distant past you aren’t sure what those words would have done to you. You would have probably gone insane, trapped in the thought of how someone can feel sorry and still do the things they did. A part of you thinks you would have killed him. Your powers still work although not as strong as they used to be without a human’s faith. You could have made a crystal from your tears so sharp it would have ended it all for you. You wouldn’t have succeeded but you would have kept fighting. You should have kept fighting.

Now three thousand years later, with the spirit of the god who caged you long gone, you aren’t sure what to do.

Oh. Your body thinks it best to cry. 

Your shoulders shake with sobs. Your tears flow down your face in rivers of silver and break off into fragile droplets of diamonds. 

Zhongli brings his hand up slowly, placing it gently on your shoulder opposite to him. He is still for a long moment waiting for you to break away from him. You don’t; you’ve lost your will to fight. It’s slow and careful the way he pulls you into his chest, like you’ll shatter the moment he envelops you completely. He holds you close while your soft cries mix in with the sounds of the waves draping the sand…

… and for the first time in a long time, you don’t try to leave his side.

THE HYDRO SOVEREIGN Nuevillette | wc. 2.1k+

"That one doesn't match the theme at all."

"How would you know you haven't even seen the flyer!"

"The flyers are everywhere. I can't miss them even if I wanted to!"

The three Melusine continue to argue amongst themselves over which eyeshadow to throw onto your face next. You have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from yelling to the archons above. This gala cannot be so important that it would warrant a criminal to attend dressed to the nines instead of behind bars.

Eight years. Eight long years since you've moved to the proclaimed nation of Justice, and seven of those years have been spent as a registered criminal under the watchful gaze of the judge who enforced your sentence: Neuvillette.

Being forced to live every moment with that man has become your hell. He insists that you accompany him on his every whim. Your there for his important office meeting, his court cases, his unusual habit of water tasting by the pier and his evening routine dinners at restaurants.

It is all done with you right by his side like a lap dog…and it's humiliating.

This isn't the relationship that should be shared between law enforcement and a criminal, but it seems you are the only person in all of Fontaine to give a damn.

The public sees your relationship as they do everything else here: entertainment.

The Judge and His Criminal: A Match Made at Trial.

News articles and tabloids headline with the two of you every other week. Each one just so happens to catch you both in some sort of intimate spotlight that couldn't be any farther from the truth, but it isn't like Neuvillette fights against them. Various citizens have sent you handwritten letters questioning about your relationship, paparazzi tackle you with questions and request for personal interviews as if you're some celebrity, he even has your parents under the impression that the rumors are true.

Your hands clench at your sides with the thought, dull nails digging into the inside of your palms. God how you wish it would end.

The chatter between the Melusines comes to a halt as the double doors are opened. You had thought it was a blessing sent from above, but the clatter of heeled boots makes you go stiff.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" The Melusine cheer, happy to see him as they scurry over to his side excitedly. You remain in your seat. They talk up to him, the bickering you had thought reached its vote returning with a vengeance. They each still insist on different colors for you to wear like it is life or death. The closed eye smile he offers in return shows he finds their little disagreement more amusing than as serious as they do themselves. He listens to every opinion nonetheless, taking in everything they all have to say with interest.

Then his eyes shift over to you.

"Don't worry. I'll take over."

You scoff, uncaring that everyone else in the room can hear you. The Melusine look to you and then back to Nuevillette who continues to smile down at them as if nothing is wrong. They nod to him one by one, then they wave to you goodbye before skipping out of the doors to leave you both alone in silence. You pick up the tea cup at your side, watching the liquid swirl around in the fine glass.

"The Melusine tell me you are not well. Might I know what troubles you?"

Neuvillette takes the seat in front of you once the room is clear and the doors shut, speaking to you with his normal neutral tone. He removes the tea from your hands just as you go to drink it, placing the cup back on the table. He continues where they have left off, grasping the brushes delicately as he brings them close to your eyes. It's soft the way he applies the eyeshadows, treating the brushes as if they aren't the finest material imported from Inazuma and would harm you if he applied too much pressure.

You don't bother to answer him, opting to look past him at the open window. Your silence doesn't bother him as much as it once did. You've long since given up your begging to be set free and now have chosen to go non-verbal in his presence after the first few years of your...parol.

He picks up a thinner pen once he believes he's done with shadow. Its an eyeliner pen.

"Don't move."

He prompts not that you have moved a muscle in this seat for the last thirty minutes, reluctantly sitting in wait for his arrival. Like an obedient dog.

One hand holds your chin tenderly, the other just barely touching the space above your eye. The Melusine had spent a great amount of time perfecting your look for this event and it would be a shame for him to ruin it.

You clearly do not share that same concern.

Just as he presses a bit harder into your skin to draw a line you jerk away. He is startled of course and draws the pen back but the damage is already done — a crooked line of black smeared from your eyebrow across your forehead. It isn't as bad as it may seem, just a quick makeup wipe away really but still Neuvillette looks dejected with the mess.

A smirk graces your lips at his expression. You might look like a fool from what you can see from the mirrors but you couldn't care less in this moment. "Shall we go."

You speak to yourself and rise in a new found spirit. You grab your coat from behind your chair and catch the sight of clouds outside the window in the corner of your eye. You expected the storm clouds, maybe even a tickle of rain - never did you expect the rumble of thunder.

Before you get the chance to pass Neuvillette, he grasps your forearm. The tenderness in his touch long since drowned, and for once you wince in his hold.

"A shame."

It's unexpected, his sudden turn. You're launched back into your seat, the force tipping over the desk beside you and pain running through your shoulders. There is a protest on your tongue, your first thought to tell him off if it wasn't for the dark glow in his eyes.

"I had thought you would grow complacent as time went on. But I've grown tired of your tantrums and this will be the last." The dragon speaks.

He is back on you in a quick second. Neuvillette's hand envelopes your mouth forcing your gaze to the side in a harsh grip. You cannot move, he crowds around you in the seat and shoves you deeper into the cushion. Your hands grip his own, trying to pry him off to no avail. He has you at his mercy yet again.

With your head turned directly into the mirrors at the vanity you watch in horror at what he does. He brings his other gloved hand to his lips, tongue darting out to wet the material with spit. He then brings the finger to your face starting to wipe away your mess.

You attempt to inch away, fighting with all your might to dodge his touch but that only causes him to push you further into the seat. The pain in your shoulders spikes again but his hand prevents your scream. Your hands thrash out determined to keep fighting as long as you can, but you can only do so much against the might of a dragon recently empowered.

Your spasmodic fighting is loud; you knock over another table spilling your tea cup, you swipe the makeup palettes onto the ground in a vocal clatter, something else falls you can't see and it shatters. You want someone to hear now, to burst through those doors and see just what a monster their highly praised Judge really is.

As the wrestling gets more aggressive, you know the people outside the office find it harder to ignore. Some turn their heads after hearing the various items hit the floor, but that is all. You want to have hope that they would hear your distress and come to your aid. Although, deep in your heart you know it won't ever happen. For what is your daily torment is their newest line of gossip.

The ones who look to the doors grow hot and red at the sudden sinful thoughts that flash through their heads. Others play at continuing their original tasks, a faint gossip starting through the masses as they openly say what they think is happening behind office doors. The last few of them actually do keep their noses deep within their files, acting as if this was a normal everyday thing as it has come to be.

When you finally burst open the double doors, they all go back to work hurriedly. Anger seethes from your being as you look throughout the office. Books are raised to cover faces, backs turn away to continue meaningless conversation, various fingers start toying with clothes to pick at lent. They don't care about you, and the quiet snickers of those few workers who don't care about being discreet stir up a sour feeling in you.

You hold back on lashing out at them, it would do nothing but make you look crazier than they already suspect. Instead you straighten your back and make haste to the doors.

As soon as you leave the building that suffocating weight is off your shoulders. The sky has cleared off with only faint remains of clouds. You take a deep breath of the fresh air, to calm yourself. Years upon years of being caged and you're finally free to think alone...wait.

You are alone.

Alone as you can be standing outside, but still alone. The gardes have not noticed you, and the streets are mostly barren thanks to the gala. You can escape. If you run now and hide off outside of the city they won't be able to find you in time. It's a chance chance to take, but you can't care now as your legs carry on their accord. Freedom is right in arms reach and won't miss the chance to take it...but nothing is ever that easy.

A man blocks your path before you can take another step. He is clad in a run of the mill tux, all black. His tie is strung out haphazardly and with the man's sleeves rolled up you can catch sight of the various bandages around both his arms and hands. A disheartened sigh leaves your lips.

Wriothesley scoffs himself, "what you aren't happy to see me?"

In truth, no. Trying to escape now would be asking for a greater punishment. No one can escape the wrath of the Duke and with his close relationship with Neuvillette it isn't worth asking for a cover up either. You put on your best smile, hands raising up his chest to fix the tie around his neck. "Just wish the day would go by faster."

His eyes never leave your own, even when your hands leave his body. The tie is perfectly in place now, though you both know he'll have taken it off by the time you get to the venue.

"You look good." He says suddenly and you pause. The compliment is genuine, the clothes you wear are personally tailored for you and fit snug yet freely enough for you to move without constraint. Wriothesley thinks the color suits you well and the details are a great addition from Liyue. You smile at him again, this one a lot more genuine and he can definitely tell with the way your face wrinkles.

You want to thank him, should have thanked him. But the sound of heels catches your attention over all else and the words crawl right back down your throat. "Shall we go." Neuvillette's hand clamps around your wrist like a handcuff, voice curt. It has been a while since the Duke has seen the man this displeased or you this upset. Wriothesley looks down at the Iudex's gloved hands. He can catch sight of teeth marks in the leather material and a bit of smudged powder along the print of his thumb.

"Is everything alright? I’d hate to get between-"

"Everything is as it should be." Neuvillette interrupts quickly, stare stone cold.

Wriothesley makes no comment against it, at least not here anyway.

All he does is nod, leading you all to the awaiting personal chariot. Neuvillette moves his arm, firmly locking your forearm on his own. You thrash a bit, although it takes one pinch to your skin to stop you from causing another scene.

To the public, you are living the life of royalty. But you know nothing has changed, you remain a prisoner chained to Nuevillette... and he isn't afraid to pull back on the leash when you show signs of bearing your teeth.

pre-note | got completely swamped with college work and now summer work is completely beating my ass ( currently neglecting it as i finish this ) so deepest apologies for the late response!!!!!

extended a/n | my first ever anon i feel so famous now! had a blast revisiting this idea and building more into their personalities, thanks so much for the ask!! i sadly had to exclude a few characters from this :/ they wouldn’t have fit this particular scene as they wouldn't tolerate behavior like this in as healthy of a way as the ones above i hope that’s okay! also ik you asked for a bit of fluff and the only one who really got that was zhongli — only because out of all the characters he is the only one i can see changing from his old way of handling the reader if that makes sense!! if you have anymore thought do not be afraid to send an ask ( promise to complete them in a more timely manner next time around T-T )

[polyamorousmood]

I realized I was okay with my partner having other partners by the time I was 13 (though I didn't have a word for it at the time) and the reason I realized this was because I was so full of seething hatred (the kind only 13 year olds are capable of) for the love triangle in twilight that by the time I got to the third book I was like "who CARES if she has two boyfriends. I wouldn't care if my partner had other partners as long as I knew about it and everyone was okay with it. Anything is better than this nonsense"

I realized this several years before I realized I liked girls. I'm a lesbian. Anyway I just think "realizing you're poly via twilight hate" is objectively hilarious but it does, unfortunately, mean that twilight was a formative experience for me.

Twilight defined a generation. Love it🫶 or hate it🤬, it still shaped you. Very few escaped this fate.

Your fate, specifically, though, is objectively hilarious

Seriously though, at least you got something worthwhile out of the books! I often think it is easier to define ourselves first by what we are NOT than by what we ARE, so I can't say I'm surprised. Hating love triangles seems to be a common theme with us polyams 😂

[acidichcl]

Doodle

[hayateart]

I hardly ever draw Bingqiu but here they are!

[cultsurvivorsafe]

The lack of empathy afforded to cult victims is exhausting. This post brings awareness to child abuse in COS—which is great!—but still wishes harm on all those who suffered it. I would never defend Neil Gaiman or any cult-connected abuser (whether ex member or current), but the average Scientologist deserves safety, freedom, and happiness! Blame abusers, not victims.