#and so it has been fulfilled

[egophiliac]

I DID IT I GOT MY PINK HAYATE now I am never doing that again!

(at least until they give me, like, a frilly unicorn Kamui or something)

[choccy-milky]

happy new year!! 🎊💕

[artgletic]

case study of the self-identified god

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

Part of the reason I find Wyll to be such a compelling character is that he is such a good person, but in what I think is a kinda unique way. 

I've seen a few criticisms of how quickly Wyll seems to switch sides in his initial confrontation with Karlach; how fast he goes from convinced he must kill her to letting her live. For me though, this makes perfect sense. 

The decision Wyll makes in that confrontation not actually whether or not to kill her; he has to decide whether or not Karlach is innocent, but once he's confirmed that, it's not a question.

He commits so quickly to Karlach because he doesn't have to choose whether or not to kill her in that moment; he already decided seven years ago. 

Because at seventeen years old, he decided he would sacrifice anything for the safety of others. 

At seventeen years old he decided that his own life, comfort and happiness was never worth the cost of someone else's. 

And so at twenty-four, he learns the devil he's been chasing is a person, and a victim, and an innocent, and the decision is already made up. 

Because Wyll Ravenguard at twenty-four is who he was at seventeen, and twenty, and ten. 

And to me that's one of the coolest things about him.

There's a separate post I'd like to make about how Wyll never loses his childhood wonder of the world- and I think there's a very similar principle here. Wyll grew up hearing stories of knights who slay monsters and heros in shining armor, and he took those stories and loved them and held them close to his chest. 

And then he's seventeen and a devil asked him if he wants to be a hero, and he's not an idiot; he understands the price of saviourhood so he says yes. 

And so when he meets Karlach, it's never really a question of if he'll kill her. It's just a matter of him finding the courage. 

Because he says "you don't know what you're asking of me" and he's absolutely right, we don't. But Wyll understands the cost; he's understood it for seven years. I'll bet anything that when Wyll Ravenguard made his pact with a devil to save tens of thousands of souls, he promised himself and his city and his father who wouldn't listen that he'd only ever use his pact to help and be good, and when it comes down to it, he sticks to his word. 

Because above all, Wyll Ravenguard is a man who knows who his is and what he beliefs, and who sticks to his principles no matter what, and for me that's incredibly compelling.

[vaguely-concerned]

the mourn watch background gives you such a GIFT in having other characters notice and call out on-screen that rook code switches like a motherfucker. the whiplash of hearing my snarky 'heeey I'm just a little guy! :>' funnyman rook speak the heightened ritualized phrases of the mourn watch with perfect seriousness and gravity completely naturally and/or break into an academic tone that can keep up with emmrich at the drop of a hat never stops giving me such endless delight. truly their real mind is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside some hideous mourn watch casual wear

[iooiu]

playing around with future donnie’s design and all i can say for sure is this:

1) lose an arm gain three

2) dies

[allastoredeer]

It's kind of funny to think that when Lucifer points out to Charlie that they have the same blood, it's clear that Lucifer has golden blood due to being an Angel, while in battle we see that Charlie actually has red blood, probably due to being the daughter of the first human/sinner woman, which ironically makes her even closer to Alastor just on a visual level.

Another thing I love about that song is that Lucifer stresses that he will support her, but always focusing on material things and the use of his power. While Alastor, the manipulative bastard who knows everyone's weaknesses, brings out all the bonds and emotional support he's given Charlie just by being there from the beginning, how they've become friends, how he makes her laugh with his jokes, he even hugs Niffty, and all that "corny" stuff is what Charlie really appreciates, but she has no interest in material things.

Ooooh! Good point about the blood! In that aspect, she could be more closely affiliated with sinners than Lucifer or the hellborn.

Also, that's what I REALLY love about Alastor and Lucifer's song, because your right! Lucifer is focusing on all the things he can get her. Material items. Which is exactly where he went wrong.

Charlie is the princess of Hell, I'm pretty sure she has no problem buying anything. Lucifer may be able to snap things into existence, but that's not what Charlie wants. It's not what she needs.

Alastor, on the other hand, is observant as fuck. He was with the Hazbin crew for only a week before he pegged Charlie's daddy issues.

It is also very interesting that in this photo Lucifer is in the spotlight with his back turned to Charlie, and Charlie's body language is so hurt and closed off, she's literally on the brink of tears. I'm just saying, I don't think we give Charlie's feelings about her and Lucifer's relationship more credit. We tend to focus more on Lucifer's emotions and that is such a shame because LOOK at her. Charlie is not okay.

Charlie wants connection, support, and community. She wants someone to be proud of her. She wants someone who is reliable and involved.

And Alastor knows that and, when you think about it, he HAS done that.

Look at Charlie's face when he tells her he's happy to "fulfill all her bizarre request."

Requests. Not just poofing items into existence.

We've already seen examples of Alastor being involved with the hotel and doing things that Vaggie and Charlie ask him to do, such as taking the egg bois with him, sitting in on Charlie's exercise's, making a commercial, building a new wall, dealing with clogs--and I imagine he's done a lot more over the 6 months that he's been there.

(Also, not to go off topic but Alastor's back arch oh my god??????)

Look at her face when Alastor say's that she's an "impressive young lady" and that they're all "very proud of her."

He didn't even need to say "I'm proud of her," it was "we're proud of her."

It makes me wonder when the last time Charlie heard those words. Did Lucifer and Lilith ever tell her they were proud of her? I looked through the episode transcripts, and there wasn't a single time Lucifer said "I'm proud of you", even after they rekindled their relationship.

I think it's something Charlie has wanted to hear for a VERY long, and hearing it from Alastor (who's as close to a father figure as she's had, I guess), I can't imagine how much that meant to her.

Also note Charlie's face when Lucifer interrupts them to request he meet her other friends.

Charlie wants emotional connection. She doesn't want Lucifer to come in and fix all her problems, she just needs a little help. She wants his support. She invited him to the hotel so she could show him what she was working on and how much things have improved.

And let's be honest here, Lucifer went to the hotel for purely selfish reasons.

He didn't go to listen to Charlie's pitch or even consider helping with it. He already said no about setting up a meeting with Heaven and he went into the hotel already believing it wouldn't work, with no intention of keeping an open mind.

He missed Charlie and went there only to see her, which isn't altogether bad! He missed his daughter. That's fine. But by all accounts it was a selfish decision that he made purely for himself. It was to benefit him, not her.

And I think, on some level, Charlie expected that.

So when Alastor swoops in saying all the right words, knowing exactly what Charlie wants (because he's been paying attention), knowing that she doesn't need material items but emotional connection, you know, I can't blame her for looking the way she did, and I'm not surprised it sent Lucifer head-first into a whirlpool of insecurity.

Lucifer went wrong by trying to "buy" (for lack of better term) his way back into Charlie's good graces. I don't think he meant for it to come off like that, but the whole basis of his "i'm a better dad than Alastor" argument is "look at all the things I can get for you," "look at all the ways you can benefit from my status" and "we're blood-related."

Whereas Alastor's was "here's all the things I've done to help and support you," "look at the times I've been reliable" and "you've already made a found family here, you don't need a biological one."

I'm sorry, but going by the song? Yeah, Alastor kind of beat Lucifer in the dad category.

Doesn't mean he's an actual, loving, and supportive father figure to Charlie LMAO, but by all accounts, he's checked the boxes.

[gunstellations]

gentle mornings

[starry-bi-sky]

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

[samdyke]

its not that 2021 was perfect its that i would do anything. Anything in the whole world. to go back so i could blog that way again

[peachyutdr]

i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D

[deadliestgalaxy]

SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 - DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET!

I have a feeling that everyone (who calls themselves fans) that didn't get the meaning of the ending in GOTG Vol. 3 has never read a single comic of them or is only a fan of some characters/relationships. Many complaints I've seen are about the end and Gamora and Peter’s romance, which sounds kind of childish. You don't need to agree with me, but I’d like to elaborate on that.

James Gunn's writing is always about the detail of things and he is not afraid to do something “bad” if it is the best for the STORYTELLING. This is what most of these people don't get: the most important part of these movies is the story they are telling. The characters help the movie tell the story, it's their story after all — but there's no protagonist or greater good that puts them above the narrative.

(This is different from Gamora’s death in IW btw. It was not the only way they had to make the story flow; they just wanted to “humanize” Thanos and by that, they chose to kill her character. It was an action ADDED not CRUCIAL to the story.)

Vol. 3 is about found-family and growing up; finishing cycles. They will always be family, as we will always be part of their story (that’s why we understand Groot now). However, life chapters end just like in real books, and these Guardians as a TEAM “chapter” has ended for them and for us.

This is very common in the comics. Most times they are all separated, doing solo missions, until something goes wrong and they reunite again. They never stop being friends, why would it be different in the movie universe?

But the end suggests they are not family anymore.

Did we see the same film? No, it doesn't. We can see that in James’ subtle writing: the way they all still respect each other, their understanding of one another, and how they all would die for themselves if needed. That won't change just because they are not physically together — just like when you finish school you won't ignore your best friends, even if you create new relationships (which you will).

But Gamora is not part of the family anymore.

Well, if you see it this way, I can't change your mind. What I can say is that the story IMPLIES that she still is, in fact. And the number one clue is that she (in 2 days) understands Groot. Remember, we also understand him because the fans are now part of the Guardians family — so understanding him and being family are correlated.

Anyhow, I know this is not enough for most people, so hear me out: Gamora’s arc is about respect and healing. She starts the movie skeptical about working with the guardians — she just wants the money— when in reality, she acts like this because she is AFRAID and feels PRESSURED to be around her “old” family.

Imagine: you died but then another version of you comes back without knowing anything of your present life. People will expect you to act in a certain way that maybe you started to act after you met them; they will expect you to like certain things you don't know of; people will EXPECT you to attend to their needs. It is a lot to swallow at once. You are afraid because you don't know them, you don't think you deserve all this love and commitment out of nowhere. So you run away. You run away to find things on your own, to grow out of this pressure you feel and discover the whole universe of possibilities you have ahead.

That's what Gamora did. But then, the mission went south and now she is stuck with her “old” team. The film shows us her character exploring the ship, listening to music... trying to understand them. At one point she even says to Rocket “You must be a very loyal pet for them to do all this for you” (or something similar). This is her way of putting into words how she visualizes the current scenario she was put in. Slowly she recognizes that they are a family, and by the way they act she finally gets how and why she also must have loved them in the past.

She goes from “I don't give a fuck”, not open to them, afraid and pressured to “I bet we were fun”, understanding and respecting them, even fighting for their family to survive.

(If she still didn't give a fuck she wouldn't have fought for them and with them when she could have just run away again.)

But she has already created new relations, so she goes back to those for now. It is what she is familiar with in this timeline. Does that mean she will never contact the guardians ever again? NO. Remember: James’s writing is about DETAILS, nuance. She is open to them again, and the final part of the movie shows this to us, especially her last interaction with Groot, Peter, and Nebula being friendly.

Oh, but Peter and Gamora will never be a couple again, their romance ended when she went back to the Ravengers.

… Again, if you see it this way I can’t change your mind. What I can confirm is that she doesn’t close herself to the team — especially to Peter — in the end.

When she says “I bet we were fun” it's the first time she acknowledges their former relationship without distancing herself from it. She could've said “I bet you were fun” or “I bet she was fun”, but instead she prefers to include herself with “we”. She pauses before letting go of Nowhere, stopping before entering her ship — what moves her forward is Nebula, who can see her sister’s changed attitude but still encourages her to take a step forward and go explore the galaxy, because she knows Gamora is not mature and ready yet for those feelings; just like she wasn't ready to be openly sentimental when Gamora joined the Guardians back in 2014.

And Peter is also not ready. Just like Gamora needs to find herself again and discover who she is, Peter needs too. He is lost without her after IW, we can see it during Holiday Special and in the beginning of Vol. 3 when he passes out because of alcohol abuse. Both don't know who they are in this new reality — and they will only find out with time. Time heals and reveals.

In the end, Peter doesn't have the same thought as in the begging: he doesn't want her to be who he once knew, he wants her as she is, this new version whom he still loves so much and wants to know more of. Although he wishes she could stay, he knows that she has her own time and while she learns about herself he will go do the same.

So yes, they’re not explicitly together as a couple in the final scene — neither they kiss nor make out, whatever you believe a relationship is made of — but they’ve changed and are open to one another. The last scene does not appear to me as an “I’ll never see you again”, but as a “Goodbye, see you soon”.

(Aside from all the small bits we had through the movie of a developing relationship between them; my favorite one being when Peter activates the auto-destruction code and Gamora smiles at him.)

Besides, you can't force anyone to fall in love in 48 hours!!

Yes, I also have some minor complaints about the story, but I can recognize that — with all the turbulence the characters and the production faced in the last few years — it was a satisfying end with a limited amount of time to a badass trilogy. The end is definitive but also open to future possibilities for all our favorite characters in their universe — some we might never see and it will only be to our imagination.

Again, you don't need to agree with me, but I had to do this, or else I would implode with thoughts. Thank you if read up here! My ask box is open if you want to talk more <3

[maigetheplatypus57]

See there's a terrible part of me that agrees with everyone saying that Scar's erm... riding powers are an intentional innuendo, but there's also a different, equally terrible part of me that looked at this session and went "Wait so Scar's power is that he can ride... anything... like... like a... like a wheelchair...?"

[mollysunder]

I totally thought they were going to go with a Lotus Eaters angle with Viktor's cult. Viktor's the only person we know who was able to harvest food in Zaun's depths with the influence of the hexcore (and Sky's research). In my mind food touched by the arcane should affect the ones who consume it.

It's not necessarily a mind control thing, but it does affect the senses. People who eat from arcane-affected fruit should hear more, see more, feel more, and in Viktor's commune it's all perfectly tuned together. The thrum of Viktor's magic provides such a sense of safety and comfort that his followers live in a glaze of contentment.

It's only when they stray too far is when problems start. Their minds and bodies have been opened to a new state of perception and without Viktor as a stable point they're easily overwhelmed by the world around them, by the magic inside them. It's easier to go back to the commune, to maintain it, to care for it, and let it thrive the way it lets them.

[goodlucktai]

gently in the cold dark earth

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

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

He’s there. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shixiong.”

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

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

“Binghe?”  

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now.” 

“No, shizun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mine. 

[warpedwings]

Misha Collins - Sneakers, Part Four - In Shorts

Anon request, complete.

Part One Part Two Part Three