#oh god she replied

[confetti-critter]

bruh I finally get over my debilitating anxiety about donating to gaza related fundraisers because theres so many ppl that need help and idk where to begin and i never feel like my money is helping at all and the

fucking website won't load 8D

[lanternlightss]

Yaaay writing requests ^^. Do you think we could get the old mondstadt gang (everyone lives) reacting to venti after ascending do godhood? 👀. I think it'd be interesting >.<

As beings of Anemo, there is little reason for wind wisps to partake in the act of breathing. Why would they, those made of that same air as the one whirling around them, need to? This remains true for Venti, even after they had taken a form alike to Cecil’s own.

If. If only Venti did not take a liking to breathing, pretending—for a moment—that they have lungs to use, the subtle up and down of their chest, at first a conscious choice that you could see being made, moving towards one they do without thought. Something human. Something mortal. It makes them happy, to be able to mimic such abilities, such mundanity.

This is, to say, that he is impressed they have learned how to do it whilst they sleep (their wings twitching intermittently); as he feels the occasional soft breaths (he counts—a full minute of complete stillness, followed by a shuttering, jagged exhale, repeat) being blown across the hand that they rest beside, having used his left arm and waist as a pillow during the night.

He does not mind, not at all. Had sat up to place his right hand atop their head once he was not blinking sleep from his eyes, playing with the strands.

Briefly, he entertains the thought of humming them a lullaby, or perhaps, a tune to celebrate this moment, that they are all here, together, still. He dismisses it the moment he begins to toss the idea around, knowing that those same people included in that “they are all here, together, still” in the room with him (Amos, in her own makeshift bed beside him—Cecil “borrowed” the one he is using, truth be told, he should be in the room one down—with Valentina besides her sat in a chair, and Felix standing at the entrance) would kick a fit if he even dared to strain his voice further (orders from the healers.) How elated he had been when they told him he could still talk, simply had to be quiet, low.

“…how asleep, are they?”

Aha, speaking of his dear companions.

Cecil inclines his head towards Felix, though his eyes never stray from Venti. “I do not believe they will be waking up, for a long while.” (Thank the winds for that, they deserve it—he had heard that whilst he and Amos’ injuries were being attended to, the rest of them had been running themselves particularly ragged dealing with the everything.)

He hears Felix sigh heavily in response, and the shifting of fabric. Shoulders, presumably, fell? He brings his eyes up to scrutinize—the man looks one awful sway away from collapsing.

“Good, that means we can have this discussion in peace.”

That … particular phrasing does not inspire a good feeling. He forces himself not to show outward unease at the words, instead, curling the hand in Venti’s hair to touch at their forehead, and lightly gripping what he can of the sheets with the other.

“Are you sure we should be having any discussion? Both you and Valentina should get rest, too—you look a dead man walking, Felix.”

And—there, Felix’s relaxed shoulders seem to tense, his jaw clamping and working in a gritted motion subtly. Cecil is waved off, both in tone and by the fluttering of his hand, “I will rest easier after this.”

He chances a glance over, to where Valentina has scooted to the very edge of her seat, clutching at her knees in a white-knuckled grip, with furrowed brows. Amos, meanwhile, is propped against pillows, slightly slouching, her bangs and unbraided strands casting a shadow over her eyes, as she burns her gaze into Felix.

The first to speak of them is Valentina, leaning forwards: “Which discussion have we not already taken care of?”

Felix does not look away from Venti, but a grimace overtakes his face, angling his head in a way to hide himself behind both his hair and the large fur of his cape. He seems rather… uncomfortable, now—his crossed arms pulling further into his chest, one hand flexing. It continues to stay this way, even when gesturing to where Cecil’s wisp cuddles against him, and speaking the words, “What do we do about them?”

Her eyes harden, back straightening in an instant. “What is it that you mean.”

(Cecil is quick, to check on Amos. Her bangs have now completely covered her eyes, and he cannot truly gauge a reaction. He worries the sheets between his fingers.)

That discomfort shines, in the floundering of Felix’s limbs—his arms flinging outwards, his hand waving about as he grasps for words. “The whole point of this was that we did not want a God to rule over us, the way they had! And then, whatever it is of that…. those heavens, has decided we were wrong in that thinking, that they sent us another God to deal with, not a moment’s peace from the previous? Are we to never escape from the divine?”

Valentina stands, her mouth twisted into a tight-lipped frown, both her fists raised to her sides and clenching. She is stopped from going farther by Amos raising an arm in front of her.

A brief spark of irritation whisks throughout Cecil’s chest, and he wishes Felix had chosen a better moment to do this—Amos, as well, is not supposed to talk above a quiet voice, or for long periods of time. “I fear we would have encountered divinity whether we wanted to or not—tell me, why is it that many had told us of a frozen land, yet when the storm vanished, the snow was fading?” Her arm shakes imperceptibly, “Had it not been for … what decision it was, that transpired before we succeeded, we would have come to face the God responsible for declaring the war.”

(That is, to say nothing of their neighboring nation and Boreas’ wolves….)

She turns, and, he notes, that for the first time since Venti’s presence had made itself known (when they had near silently glided into the room, the door creaking shut just so, with Anemo slowly dissipating from their form, and playfully tousled Cecil’s bangs in a light breeze) Amos looks directly at the God, who has huddled closer—they seem to be trying to lay themselves over all of him—whilst the conversation had gone on.

Her eyes seem to soften, staring a few seconds longer, then dropping her attention to the end of the bed. She turns away, her arm falling to her lap, hands lacing together and nails gently clinking against each other.

“Perhaps we should count ourselves fortunate, that of all beings to ascend, it was the Elf.”

Felix scowls and presses his back against the wall, the sound of his cape sliding across it echoing, nearly drowning out the even quieter grumblings of his, “Fortunate is not the word I would use.”

How terrible for him, that for as far as he is from Cecil, his words still ring clear—words that cause that spark of irritation to flare into a burst of small flames, flames that have to be forcefully smothered out. Over the little time that the bard has not been able to walk the grassy lands, has he forgotten? Nothing, not a single noise, escapes from those who always listen, who keep their ears pinned to the striking chords of the winds.

His eyes narrow, bordering on a glare. And this is not quite shaping to be a “discussion”; would it be a proper one, they would actually be going somewhere, and not talking in practically circles.

“Why unfortunate?” Felix’s head snaps to him, and Cecil (pushes the flames) risks skimming his hand to where Venti’s right ear is, holding his palm there (a useless gesture, really, yet he does it anyhow). “You would not start anything if there was no value to be had of it—so, please, what is it you wish to truly say?”

The man opens his mouth, pauses. Cecil continues to stare, lowering his chin, his brows drawing together, upward, and the edges of his mouth threatening to fall.

Boots scuff against the floor, when Felix titters side to side, considering. A breath rushes out of him, harsh. Then, as if it were a leaf fallen onto still waters and sending ripples across the surface, he utters: “If they turn against us—what are we to do?”

Try as he might not to (flames slipping between the gaps of his fingers), Cecil lurches forward, and halts himself rather awkwardly halfway through it hearing Venti make an indescribable noise. He looks to them, seeing them curl inward, their brows knitted, wings dazedly moving to shield their body. A wince pulls at him, as he adjusts back to where he was (almost to, he should say—positioning himself to hide them from Felix’s view, his torso bent over them), and the hand covering their ear runs to their hair, massaging; they start to relax from it, wings spreading, and nestling their face into his waist.

(A splendid sight, yet… a bitter feeling forms, coating his mouth.)

Scratching at where two strands—resembling the ones they had as a wisp—sprout, he presses, a hiss to it, “Turn against us..?”

He holds his hands in the air, by his chest. “I know. I know, I have seen them.”

If the emotion of “incredulous” could be humanized, Cecil would be the perfect role, right then. Has he? Has he??

Admittedly, for most of the time he has been awake, he can count on one hand and two extra fingers how much he was fully lucid during it. When the pain constricting in his chest was not clouding his vision, when there was no fog laid over his mind, his surroundings dizzy, his limbs feeling inexplicably heavy. Shoving this all aside, however—during those lucid moments, and finding Venti waiting for him, their entire demeanor brightening at their locking of eyes; he noticed how terror and apprehension threaded through their being.

He does not think they have a capacity to harm—not for those they love, not for those they have a branch of trust to—by the fact that they cannot bring themself to hold his wrist in a firm grip without panicking of potentially “breaking him.”

(Or that they, wind now trapped in a bottle, a shell for them to be tied to, try next to everything to compact themselves to the size they once were. From curling into a ball on the wooden chair, from using their wings to hide themself away, from bowing and crumbling in the cradle of his palms.

How they are bigger and powerful, certainly, yet the world around them still remains so much more than they are.)

Felix slumps. “It would only be as a precaution. We should be prepared—”

There is a clanging of armor, signaling Valentina’s steps inching towards Felix. When she speaks, her voice is stern, tinged slightly by bafflement.

“No, you are aware, just as I, to what they are capable of! They are listening to the people, and doing what they can for them!” Her hand clenches, metal shuddering. “And even… they have been this way, they stopped at nothing to keep my clan safe, out in the frozen barrens. We should have seen a sign by now if they were to change, the winds are simple creatures. There is no reason for this precaution!”

“Are we to lay all our trust in what was? Their knowledge is more! They are not such a simple creature! They know intimately the hopes and dreams of mere humans—what that does. They have become privy to how far mortality can go, to how much a human can take before their life is snuffed from them, and now they have the ability to do something about it.”

He sweeps a hand, jerkily, to the two in bed, during the last words.

Cecil bristles. Their injuries are not to be used for matters like this. No one should have expected that death would not be nipping at their heels during the revolt, that they would not have to grab on to the world of living and dig. A retort readies on his lips, lips pulled back, only to—still.

(Oh. There is no air being blown across.

Oh.)

Valentina side-steps to the other side of Amos’ bed, hackles fully raised, a righteous glare upon her face. “You truly know nothing of the wind, then, if you believe they would willingly go back to those restraining—!”

“Enough.”

They both startle. Cape, whipping. Armor, clanking.

“Enough,” Amos repeats, the words sounding as though they were scraped from her throat. “The both of you… shall we have someone watch over, when you are outside here? You have swung knives.”

In unison, their shoulders hunch. She draws a soft breath, half-watching Valentina stride over to grab the canteen of water from the side table, offering it to her—while Felix seems to attempt to meld into his cape. She takes it into a tight grip, the tips of her fingers trembling, but does not bring it to her lips. Opting to swish the water inside, instead.

“A godhood is delicate,” taps at the canteen, the sound reverberating, “Especially one at … at the very beginning, of their divinity. A sign of change would not be in mortal lifetimes—it drips, one by one, slow.”

She turns to face them, once more. Trailing from where Venti’s wings flutter, the sleeves of their robe half splayed over the bed, to where Cecil is furled around them, a few pieces of hair strands falling over his eyes as he bows further at her stare. Eyes meet, hers, tinged in an old pain and weighted by exhaustion; his, bordering on guarded, cracked with pleading.

Underlying all of that is an understanding.

(You can never quite understand a God’s thinking, will only get to see the glimpses of what layers that sit just underneath the surface, a scratch of it, but love—

A God’s love, their eyes and arms locked around you, is something all encompassing.)

“We should continue to offer them the kindness they gave us.” Another tap, another tink. “Whatever path they follow down, whatever they choose to do, hundreds or thousands of years after this—at the least, they will remember having us by their side. Should they give an inkling, now, however—”

“All these what-ifs,” Cecil murmurs bitterly, withholding a sneer. “Could we, say, let them take their own steps first? They hardly have a proper footing!”

The puff of air that escapes her is almost amused. Her gaze drifts downwards, where the water of the canteen sloshes as it is tipped to her mouth. She sets it gently into her lap, after, a chorus of clinking coming from the repetitive thumping of her fingers.

“Of course.” She hands the canteen to Valentina, and the trembling of her limbs seems to have worsened. The blunt ends of her nails press into the palm of her hands, briefly, and she goes to pull the bed’s cover up to her chest, hiding her arms by tucking it over her fists. Then, “I have not seen you receive any medical care, these past days. Have you been shirking?”

Venti’s wings puff, a minute flinch going throughout their body. He pets at their hair, twirling it between the gaps of fingers—he had been checked on the day before his wisp had visited, and watched as they checked Amos’ health, too, quietly asking if the soreness had lessened, after the healer left, and her reply of rolling her shoulders and commenting that it does not feel like she is being crushed.

“Hee, I was hoping you would not catch that…” He nuzzles into their head. Backs a bit away, nary an inch or so, and brings his hand to their jaw, stroking his thumb along their cheeks. Venti tenses, brows scrunching. He continues, mock whispering, “Psst, Miss Amos revealed one of my secrets, can you believe…? Quite mean of her, hmpf! You would be my knight and defend my honor, would you not, Venti? My dearest?”

There is a pause, where he can see them debate with whether they should “awaken” or not. He waits, humming lowly—and is rewarded when two glittering green-blue teal jewels blink up at him.

“Knight..?”

“Yes! I shall gather you a shield, so that we can deflect her peddling—”

“My deepest apologies for not wishing your wounds to infect.”

Cecil leans to stick his tongue at her (she wrinkles her nose in jest), feeling more than seeing Venti sit taller, their hands moving to grasp at his wrist. A perturbed expression greets him when he turns back to them, searching him for anything critical. His heart squeezes, flips, squeezes.

He reaches out to brush his hand against a braid, tracing the poof part that is held together by a band. Hopes that the twinkling in his stare is enough to convey Do not worry, a “go along.” The ruffled feathers of their wings start to smooth out, fluttering about, as they squint at him—message received. “How many missed?”

“Only one session, I promise. My bandages… may need replacing, a little,” ducks his head, bonking against their forehead, and offers up a gentle, crooked smile. “Walk me back?”

They graze their own hand over his, holding it loosely. Nods, and lets go, standing from the chair, using their foot to push it away farther. Cecil shakes off his arm as he yanks the cover down to the end of the bed, throwing his legs over the side, the soles of his feet hitting the floor. Venti holds their hand out for him to take, pulling him up (though, he notes, they keep their fingers intertwined tightly with his.)

“You will be going?” Felix questions, uncrossing his arms.

“Mmm. I believe Amos has had enough of my shenanigans.” He waves his hand, stepping in front of Venti, having them still out of Felix’s view.

“… if you need any he—”

“Fret not, I have the most wonderful guiding wind!” He leans into Venti, as subtly he can, beaming. They are besides the man, now, and he tugs them closer to the doorway. “We should be on our way now, might be able to catch a healer along our journey.”

He waves to Amos and Valentina, receiving waves back (though, on Valentina’s part, seem slightly reluctant to see the both of them go.) They both skirt around the doorway and down the hall, where Cecil exhales, his shoulders sagging.

If they wish to still discuss such a topic, fine, if that is what will bring them ease in this environment. Everyone is on edge and wary, equally they are relieved and excited. He has seen how some shuffle around the new God, confused how to interact with the wisp. But if they wish to do it while the person they discuss is there, unaware, they are welcome to be his guest to explain to Venti why that topic involved which of the best ways to stab them in the back was—especially when there are more important issues that should be focused on! That warrior, in particular….

Urgh.

He squeezes Venti’s hand, placing his head upon their shoulder.

“My darling knight, I love you no matter what.”

…they squeeze his hand, ears flicking, and wings puffing once more.

[isa-ah]

met a really cool queer stranger today that i thought was just so fucking neat i wanted to talk but if we were playing tennis they were, with the most gentle and earnest voice ive ever heard, shoving the tennis racket down my throat. every compliment or joke i made was turned away but in the sweetest way possible that made me sound like an absolute asshole lunatic. it was so scary.

[crimeronan]

Camila and Hunter bonding is so sweet but can you imagine: Camila showing Hunter how to properly care for Luz’s natural hair 🥺

(I’m sure they’ve been doing fine on their own since there’s plenty of hair type diversity among witches but the image is in my head and it’s cute and sweet weh)

WAH... i've been Deeply fond of hunter having annoyed darius into showing him when he and luz were younger, but i'm Equally fond of camila doing so. hunter is the most intense and attentive student in the World and camila is like haha you can relax!! you're doing great!!

tangentially related, a few days (weeks?) ago i made a post about hunter spending an entire night untangling/moisturizing/washing luz's matted hair in the worst timeline, bc she's stopped caring thanks to grief & she gets really freaked out by anybody else touching her & camila doesn't want to suggest cutting it when luz has had so little autonomy...

camila who's been Very Wary of hunter, seeing luz in the morning and being like "oh!! mija!! your hair!! it looks lovely, how did you....?"

& luz is like. oh it wasn't me. hunter did it. he's the most patient person in the World

hunter: it didn't require patience, really. i'm always happy to help :)

camila: ....hm. maybe i will die for this strange gaunt child.

[jintsuki]

they hugged

[arendellepeach]

another esc23 reunion tomorrow?? 😭

[desceros]

I feel like Donnie would be mush for his teeny, itty bitty little baby girl.

someone has been peeking in my google drive again i see....

yeah i think he (rise donnie specifically since that's the papatello i'm working on) would be one of those dads who has a big talk about how he's so strict, about the intense regiment he has his kid on to maximize their development, and he's always the most annoying piece of shit at the PTA meeting. flex brag flex brag

but then his little toddler comes up to him on wobbly legs and puts her hands on his calf, tapping at him for his attention and looks up at him with paint all over her face from where she got into the art supplies at the back of the classroom and made a huge ass mess, and he just melts at her crooked little grin (bc dad is the favorite) and is completely incapable of chastising her in any shape or form

that changes when she grows up and starts to act so much like him that he HAS to be firmer with her. the first time he has to put her in time out they both ugly cry a lot

[lautity]

omg how did you guess i think about her.....steps in front of username to cover it. ignore that

edit from after this was written: i am so sorry. i am so so so sorry for this. it's like a whole fic i have no one else to say this to bc no onecares about them HAJKDSAHKSJHD i am . shaking. so sorry. omg. don't hate me

anyway you are so correct ARHJHKS pathetic autistic lesbian who grew up alienated from her peers bc she was "weird" and ppl didn't wanna be friends with her....until zoey came along and actually tolerated her (used her) and turned her into a dog basically.

she'd do anything for zoey....anything..........they are so homoerotic codependent friendship coded. zoey is MOST DEFINITELY in love with hailey but in like a very unhealthy "my feelings for you make me look weak so i need to make you weak by treating you like this" (plus zoey is just a bitch to everyone in general)

and hailey just takes it. bc she admires zoey so much. like she canonically sees her as a mentor. even though they're likely the same age. and yes yes she is in love with zoey because who wouldn't be. who wouldn't fucking fall for the only person who ever like. talked to her. who sings so well and acts so well and controls every room she enters. who has the power over people hailey could only dream to have one day......and also she's SO hot

NOW. THOUGH. it is canon that they have a third roommate. what if i told you it was greenpeace girl herself - harmony jones. (not canon. not even hinted at)

i just think. harmony is soo passionate about the environment. passionate in general. also autistic. good at masking though. but takes no shit. she's the first person zoey can't manipulate or degrade and it SUCKS. she's like 5'10 to me and basically towers over zoey of she's wearing her huge thrifted black boots. and it makes her so flustered and SO angry

and like. it is pretty funny to intimidate hatchetfield's favorite knockoff regina george. zoey passes her in the hallway and actually has to look up to meet harmony's dumb stupid sparkly gorgeous eyes......and harmony just smirks.........and zoey like. regains her composure. tears her eyes away and hisses "get out of my way" and practically sprints to her room. slams the door. and harmony calls after her "sorry princess" and zoey is so angry and flustered she bites a pillow not to scream

hailey and harmony are soo special too. harmony sees hailey, because she's willing to. she likes listening to her ramble. she likes seeing her happy & not constantly hiding herself in fear of being abandoned again. she is soooo down bad for hailey she'd do anything for her.

sounds like a pretty weird roommate dynamic right. WRONG. polyamory beam.

hailey looks at harmony like she carries the stars in her eyes. harmony looks at her the same. zoey is added into this and feels a little out of place. for the FIRST TIME in her life, zoey chambers feels out of place.

hailey and harmony make a huge effort though. because they are also still very much down bad for this bitch.

harmony just has like.....zoey on a leash. a mean lesbian with an even meaner lesbian on a leash. zoey eventually leans into it. her new role of being harmony's pretty princess........

she starts being less cruel to hailey. she's still like a bitch, that's just in her nature, but there's sweetness to it.....she makes an effort to learn stuff about hailey. hobbies and favorite musicals and all that. she learns that hailey can actually be kinda sorta cool (in a lame way) if she's not constantly biting her tongue.

staring at you really hard like a cat. they (you) could never make me hate you zazz haileydilmore.

i am actually really obsessed with 'in love with her, but not as an equal'. princess and handmaid coded. fondness but its buried under so much scorn. you Could tell her. and it'd probably make her more devoted. but she'd already do anything for you, so why give her that leverage?

there's this specific feeling some people (especially like. popular hot girls. lol) give you where they make you feel important. like. just by being around you, by deeming you worth their time, they're calling you special. even if they aren't actually being nice to you. unspoken affection of letting you stay close to them. it's like a really fun addictive feeling and i think hailey is always chasing that from zoey

harmony teaching hailey that she deserves so so much better than how zoey treats her.......i don't think that would be immediate but it would be like. a slow build-up of being less and less comfortable w/ zoey's demands before she finally flat-out refuses to do something. probably with a "you aren't even nice to me, zoey. I don't think you ever have been."

i think....zoey hates seeing harmony and hailey happy together at all it makes her So Mad because she had hailey first. and she's been stolen. by what? being kind??

the Entire Time zoey is ruminating on this harmony and hailey are both trying to kind of invite her in and be like hey we arent mad at you we should probably all talk (The Polyamory Talk™. zoey does not know this i dont think). but zoey is both upset/jealous and maybe a little tiny bit worried that she'll fuck up whatever they have. because she does maybe feel the littlest bit bad about hurting hailey. a little bit. because there is actually something nice about this happier, more confident, more assertive hailey. maybe she feels a miniscule amount of guilt that she was the reason she was miserable for so long.

they do finally ask her out and shes so out of her element waugh......because yeah harmony has her whipped.

+ ur so right zoey is never nice, persay, but harmony definitely dulls some of her edges and she's a lot more able to say things with affection rather than spite. and harmony's reign ushers in clear communication (or else), so when zoey has issues with hailey there is no more passive-aggressive comments that leave her spiralling

ugh i think zoey wld still snap at hailey sometimes and harmony always mediates.....theres something kind of fun about hamony being a protector. maybe zoey feels a little left out sometimes because of this, like she's the third or the spare or the least wanted. not a feeling shes used to! of course they reassure her that this is not true. but maybe she makes a bit more of an effort with her temper, anyways. you understand

[hadrianblackwaters]

!! DRUMINDOR SPOILERS IN TEXT AND TAGS !!

Listening to Drumnidor as a Hadrian girlie is not easy. My god they're assassinating his entire character and taking away his life purpose right in front of us! They're reducing him to a stupid comic relief character with no depth and no real influence on the people around him (to a greater degree than they ever did before) and they're taking away all his greatest achievements and attributing them to someone else to fit the plot! His main character status has been revoked and he's now apparently merely a supporting character in someone else's story. Please, everyone, a moment of silence for my blorbo 😔🙏 Rest in peace mr. Blackwater. At least they let you pull some impressive-arse sword moves, you looked really cool... but I am so sorry they did not let you be a practising hoe in this one 🥀

[lannisterdaddyissues]

mar now you HAVE to show us the chinese tom cruise omegaverse edge of tomorrow tweet. don’t just leave a girl hanging

oh it would be my PLEASURE, i was just waiting for you to ask

and personally i think this is twitter’s magnum opus even if nobody else agrees. nobody is insane about anything the way asians are insane about tom cruise. i respect their commitment to the bit

[hearts401]

ppl online get way too comfortable sometimes methinks

[lanternlightss]

littol notebook ->📒(For the ask game!! :D)

(ask game)

*sounds of papers being dug through* OKAY. SO !!!

nameless bard and collei, right ?? (technically. actually. this fic wouldve been part of a series where nameless bard came across many many people of teyvat who happened to venture into old mond’s ruins, or the edges of mondstadt, or where simply wandering, and talked with them, about anything, about nothing. this all stemming from ,,, a small hc au thing where a ghost bard takes care of those that venti cannot immediately reach, or when he is preoccupied by something else. mond’s silly little grandpas.)

but back to collei and bard. two characters who have such a relationship in regards to gods. this fic would’ve had collei come swinging by mondstadt for a visit, and, perhaps, got lost in a storm on the way there. ending up huddled into a corner and devastatedly watching as her stuff is tossed into said storm. there, she meets a stranger who looks awfully like that one local bard amber and lisa talk about, who has run in to find her, and take her to safety.

throughout the way there, she wonders. why is it that this storm is so peculiar ?? mondstadt’s winds are never quite this strong !! is barbatos … angry, maybe ? was something done to have upset him ? (did they ever get angry at her, for when she …. )

“is barbatos ever upset?”

“upset?”

“would they ever get … you know, angry at someone, for something. if they hurt people.” (off note, HOW much of mond’s history does collei know, bc i feel like she would be interested in it, and amber would be more than willing to tell her about mond details.)

and bard … pauses. scowls. laughs. it would depend, wouldn’t it ? how are they hurting people ? are they malicious about it ? they are a kind god, see, and often go around to inconvenience those who have wronged them or their city. (they don’t answer, there are times barbatos is seething, times where people are reminded that the reason the mountains around them were halved by this same god, that the wind is playful, sweet—and dangerous, ruthless.)

then bard goes on to be like. why. if barbatos were to be angry at anyone, that honor would go to me !! my, if they knew of all the offerings ive took from them, they surely would smite me. (the entirety of the time, i just want the vibe that bard is assuring—you are not from here, no, but you are more than welcome as a free child all the same, you who have gained your freedom from despair. you who lives her life reaching for each new opportunity given. you are doing good.) also bard slightly. kinda. vagues at decarabian and other gods at some points.

i just think. bard, who lived his life under a god who did not understand them. collei, who lived her life thrown to the wolves, stuck with remains she did not ask for, who felt betrayed by the heavens for how they failed her.

and mondstadt, and barbatos, who may guide their people, but leaves them largely to make their own decisions. barbatos, whose appearances made are when their people are in distress, who would rather cut their wings off than leave mondstadt to burn. and how they would feel about that—about how this city has turned out, how it helped them, or !!!!!! just !!!!! yeagh

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[crimeronan]

im think sm about the hypothetical in this shitty alt timeline of belos "gifting" luz an amity grimwalker, specifically luz walking up to amity, looking haunted and done and holding a baby that looks scarily similar to amity and just asking "how are you healing up?" when amity has NOT told her abt her injury.

OH GOD.

[frida--y]

*shares an excel sheet so co workers can edit their projects and update them*

“please highlight your changes in green”

*co worker downloads the attachment after working on the shared sheet for a few lines and sends me the completed sheet on their end*

*never highlighted anything*

[peanutseagle]

oh my god i gave him. this drawing i did of him. but its not just based of any picture - oh no - it's based on a 5 yo class photo. I explained to him that my friend, who was his classmate back then, showed me the picture. That I got bored and just wanted to draw something, so I drew his 5th grader self. He smiled funnily and said "Well, it's not bad. Thanks"

Then he went back to his bros.

Me? I hid in the toilet, called my friend, and screamed her ears off.