#lol guess who is NOT editing this

[strxnged]

CYNO: # those who trespass.

word count. 2k. genre. adventure, platonic.

overview. with false rumours spreading that your research at the akademiya is concerned with forbidden knowledge, you travel across the desert to prove the subject's validity and your own integrity. but the lies seemed to have reached the ears of a certain law-upholding mahamatra.

warnings. fear, slight claustrophobia, one (1) bad joke from cyno. childhood best friends to percieved strangers trope ?

You had never expected to find yourself in the dry heat of the Hypostyle Desert, collecting information on the mystery of ancient times before. You were out of the direct sunlight, deep underground within the ruins of a temple, and you were close; you could feel the hair on your neck rise in anticipation. This room of the temple was the one you had been meant to find, and the thick pillar with the goat statue atop was the site which would hold the answers. As always, the answers would lead to more questions, but even a report of what you knew you would discover hidden in that pillar—the ancient power, and more importantly, the ancient tale—would carry you away from the endless respite from progress. It had only been luck that had led you here—luck, and some fear of lies that had followed you. Yes, this would be it, that last piece that would reclaim for you the reputation you sought.

But said lies you now heard the footsteps of, echoing dramatically down the long stone hall behind you.

“There’s nowhere for you to run.” The General Mahamatra—for you knew it was him—rather harshly stated your own thoughts aloud.

You knew it to be true, and yet you were not ready to give up. “There’s no grounds on which you can arrest me,” you declared, facing him more boldly than you felt. You mustered up the strength to look in his scarlet eyes. Your fear increased rapidly. Judging from his stance, staff held out to prevent any of your attempts of escape… he seemed to be beyond showing mercy.

“What gives you that impression?” At the General Mahamatra’s threatening gaze, you could feel your confidence begin to shatter. Even though you knew you hadn’t broken the law, you were beginning to feel the guilt of someone who had. The case had nothing to do with you. You didn’t even know where the rumours had started; only that you had been tracked here by the upholder of justice. He wasn’t Cyno to you anymore, nor he had he been for years. Clearly, things had change.

“If you lie to me, do not expect me to protect you from the law just because of our past friendship. Justice shall reveal your sins even as your lips tell falsehood.”

“For the last time, I had no part in it!” you said, feeling your voice hesitate. It seemed to be too late for your emotions to help declare sincerity.

“Then tell me,” he said, “why you fled to the furthest reaches of the Great Red Sands the day word spread of the project? A fair trial would have allowed you innocence. You are using forbidden knowledge as a crutch in your studies, and I will not regret.”

You could not speak again, because you knew this was going nowhere. The cold pillar behind you was all you could cling onto to steady your trembling.

The General Mahamatra eyed the pillar behind you, as if he noticed something worthy of suspicion.

Was it you shaking, or the pillar?

Before you had a chance to process what was happening, the General Mahamatra suddenly lunged towards you. It was hard to tell quite what had occurred in the moment that took you from beside the pillar to several feet down the stone hall, but you could faintly identify the feeling of hands leaving your torso and a blinding flash of Electro, as well as brief but overpowering motion.

Then, a sound like waves of fire exploded from the room, and it appeared that the entire chamber might come crashing down atop of you. As you readjusted your eyes, you could see that the pillar had been dispelled, and a great orange light with a peculiarly—familiarly—shaped artifact hung in the center of it.

Yes, you had been close to discovering the secret. But you might spend your life in prison before ever getting to finish your research, now. 

It was growing hotter in the hall; you could only wonder if your skin might have melted off had you stayed next to the pillar. Had… had you not been saved by…?

The General Mahamatra stood at the wall opposite you, also peering into the room in faint wonder. He seemed to have forgotten your perceived sins for the moment, the awe of the relic consuming his mind as much as yours.

You knew what this was, however. This was the hilt of a weapon once wielded by a descendant of King Deshret, as far as your research had led you to believe.

Recalling a scroll you had read on a related weapon, you wondered what might be making this piece so unstable. Was it the presence of a similar weapon? Or… some unresolved curse?

“The cycle of seven must be removed….”

A voice groaned from within the fiery glow.

Perhaps it was all of the above. A glance at the General Mahamatra seemed to confirm this; he was holding his weapon with wide eyes, as it seemed to be dragged by some invisible force towards the flame. If he didn’t let go of it now, it might drag him into the center of the heat.

Your thoughts whirled as you shouted, “Cyno! We have to get out of h—”

The General Mahamatra would not be getting out of here quite yet. He raised his staff, drawing Electro into a swirl of mulberry purple around him, and his attire seemed to change as the designs on his hood glowed. His arm changed colour too, and in place of his hand a large and terrible claw took form. He stepped once towards the room, and then took two more steps, crackling with Electro might. He drew back the claw and then released the gathered element at the artifact in increasingly powerful waves.

You could not look away, but you could not fully gaze upon the destruction. The artifact, the hilt—it seemed to wither away, and with it, the amber light. It did not cool, as the General Mahamatra did not release his form just yet. He had noticed the ceiling of the room caving in before you might have even thought to look. His claw now supported it, and he looked you dead in the eye.

“Run now, or join the ancients in their grave,” he snarled.

You ran.

—

“You called me Cyno.”

You craned your neck to look over your shoulder from the boulder you sat on outside the ruins. “My apologies,” you said, with less gusto than the comment deserved. The General Mahamatra walked around the boulder, eyed it, and sat right next to you, curtly dusting debris off of himself. You were somewhat relieved to see that he made it out in one piece.

“It does not matter what you call me,” he reprised, “for it does not impact my authority nor the law’s.”

“So what’s your point?”

“Well,” he said, and cleared his throat. He seemed to endeavor eye contact with you, but tore his gaze away after only a moment. This was strange. This was different than five minutes ago underground.

“Well?” you repeated.

“Yes. It made me think to our day. When we were younger. When I was Cyno, Defender of the Law, to you.”

You cleared your throat. “Cyno, Defender of the Law, and Scarlet Sand Authority of Justice.” You felt a bit shy saying something outright like that with the potential of embarrassing him. Especially after seeing how far his capabilities with his vision had come.

“Yes. I was reminded of that.”

Thankfully, he seemed unphased. You ventured to ask, “Aren’t you about to arrest me?”

He cleared his throat. You watched a short smirk form on his face and disappear just as quickly. “No, I need to rest myself first.”

“Hmm. You mean justice can wait for your minor fatigue?”

“No, I…” He looked you earnestly in the eye. “It was a joke.” As you did not immediately respond, he continued. “See, because you said you expected me to ‘arrest’ you, and because I have just exerted myself rather extremely in the ruins, I am in need of ‘a rest.’ So, I responded—”

“I get it, Cyno.”

“You do? You’re not laughing. Was it my delivery?”

You frowned. After all the fear that had led you here, along with the slightly crushing disappointment that your research could not continue on this subject now that the relic had been destroyed by a certain someone, you weren’t really sure what to feel right now. Especially with the General Mahamatra—Cyno, your old friend who you had not seen in years—cracking the same old dry jokes after threatening you with a glaring gaze and justice.

“So, can I call you Cyno again?” you asked.

“You may,” he replied.

“Okay, then, Cyno. What happened to my criminalization?”

“It was a matter of ruling you out. You would not admit to it, nor would you provide any evidence other than that of a dangerous pursuit. Now that the danger has been dispelled—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted. “You tracked me down to the desert to keep me from searching for the relic?”

He blinked. “Not quite. I had planned to have you go through trial, and ban you from the topic altogether.”

“That wouldn’t have been very nice.”

“Oh, it would have been better for everyone involved. Do you realize what might have happened if I hadn’t been there to stop you just now?”

“I—” you faltered. Because, no, you did not realize. You hardly knew what set off the relic, much less what Cyno had done to destroy it. “Why didn’t you stop me before I got that close? Or at least be honest with me about it instead of making me panic like that?”

“You are not the kind of person who turns around at warnings of danger. That much is clear from your continued pursuit of the subject, as well as my experience as your acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance? Cyno, we were best buds a few years back!”

“Alright. As your former best bud, I know you to be reckless with your life in the pursuit of knowledge and prestige. In the name of justice, I took it upon myself to keep an eye on your endeavors.”

“In the name of justice?”

“Yes.”

“More like, in the name of a creepy former best bud who’s been watching me for years since we took different paths.”

“I disagree. That is an unfair statement. No, it was in the name of saving your life, and you cannot refute that.”

“I can try.”

“Indeed, you can try because you’re not dead in the ground.”

You clicked your tongue. He had you there.

“Well,” you said. You could not think of what to say next.

“Well?” he repeated. He had a serious look on his face, as always, but the response was so impish that you wanted to slap him.

“At least I’m not getting locked up,” you finally said. 

You had never expected to find yourself in the dry heat of the Hypostyle Desert, once again chatting with an old and dearly beloved friend, who you had thought, some ten minutes ago, was going to kill you.

author's note: yippee cyno. reblog if you agree 🔥🔥🔥

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[sleepygaymerdisease]

[chalkrub]

dinosaur in a lab coat - would you trust her with operating the centrifuge

[judasisgayriot]

Fall Out Boy gets uncomfortable

[samstarium]

nb aziraphale icons! all art is from hg-aneh (2/?)

transparents under the cut

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Never forget that Gabv1el is peak yaoi

Audio source

Transcript:

Us smoochin'

God loves this!

*kissy kissy*

Audio source

You all need to see the visual for this one.

Similar clip for anyone who hasn't heard it ;)

[mistfallengw2]

How do charr hands function? Here's my headcanon (with drawings!)

So I made this poll earlier today and I ended up making some sketches to explain how I headcanon charr hands and their supposedly retractable yet too big claws. The idea is that both the game and the books are partially right: claws can be big (not as big as the models), and they're semi-retractable (so fully-fluffy paws). [Disclaimer: I am bad at anatomical drawings and did not try to make them super accurate :')]

Basically charr fingers are made of three phalanges, but functionally they're just two, with the 2nd and 3rd being much shorter and sort of "merging" with the claw itself, which is mostly supported by the 3rd and starts very close to the knuckle between them. The palm is covered almost entirely by a skin pad/paw pad, which usually extends to the first phalanx of each finger, and the fingertips are covered by pads as well.

The claws are semi-retractile, though the exact range of motion depends on the individual's genetics (claw size and shape + hand anatomy) and preferences (how much they trim the claw). The ability to retract their claws is managed by specialized extra tendons and muscles in the hand's structure, and they can lock the claw in place or move it, even while the fingers are bent, though with some limitation at the extremes of movement. While the claw at rest will stay at a "safe" angle, the claw's bed can shift on the cartilage structure when pulled, sliding back into a "sheathed" position or be pushed outwards. [note: I was too scared to go too far with the "x-ray" sketches and probably the claws could go a bit further back in the finger lol]

Ancestrally, this system kept the claws from always digging into the ground and losing sharpness when running on all fours, while still allowing for extra grip when necessary (similar to cheetahs) and the use when fighting or taking down prey. During the evolutionary transition in which charr started walking upright most of the time and using tools, it lost some of its ancestral necessity and functionality. However, instead of turning into something vestigial, charr evolved the ability of controlling each claw's movement independently from the rest of the finger, allowing for greater precision, fine motor skills and dexterity.

The pad grants grip and softer manipulation of items, while the claw handles movements finer and more precise than the pad allows, and other races find it complex, fascinating or a bit freaky. Some say that charr are as dexterous than humans, if not more, which is quite an accomplishment for creatures with such big hands.

That said, variety is huge among charr. Some have stubby paws with big, wide claws, while others have long, slender fingers with narrow claws.

Claws are still used as a natural weapon by many soldiers, but it's totally not uncommon for charr to file their claws down or keep them blunt, as there's a huge variety of reasons for not wanting sharp knives on one's fingers (job requirements, handling of delicate materials, safer interactions with cubs or creatures with softer skin, personal preference, etc), and some even keep their claws at different lengths for specific uses.

That said, claws can't be trimmed beyond the quick without bleeding or potential damage, and since it extends out of the sheath it's not possible for a charr to fully sheath their claws. Claws grow quite fast to make up for the daily wear and tear, so upkeep must be done regularly, as trimming too much might temporarily impact coordination. Declawing can happen during combat or following injury, and those affected might wear prosthetics/fake claws to make up for it.

[manchesterau]

gif request for @absolutefilthimsosorry (x)

[inkskinned]

so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.

i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.

i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."

i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."

i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"

he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."

i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.

"oh," he says.

"yeah, man."

"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.

"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."

"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."

the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.

"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."

[whenuwishuponastar]

I liked you right from the start

[tennispilled]

sincaraz - tortured poets department

[coquelicoq]

what i like especially about the pronouns in the goblin emperor is that this language doesn't just have the T-V distinction (aka informal vs. formal second-person pronouns, in this case 'thou' vs. 'you'), it also has informal and formal first-person pronouns. having BOTH of these distinctions in the same language lets you fine-tune your tone by mixing and matching. with only one axis of formality, when you use informal pronouns, are you being familiar in an intimate way, or in an insolent or dismissive way? when you use formal pronouns, are you being polite or standoffish? you can't tell just from the pronouns; there's ambiguity. but a language where you can use a formal first-person pronoun in the same sentence as an informal second-person pronoun allows you to distance yourself (via the formal first) while also being familiar (via the informal second), thereby achieving the conversational tenor known to linguists as Fuck Thee Specifically.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[annamationsart]

archivist in the city… where will he go…

[raiiny-bay]

alien emoji

[webs4ribs]

Everyone hated Stanley, including The Line™