#the glimmers of backstory

[divinekangaroo]

...man I've really hit that stage of Old Womanhood where I seriously contemplate and long for novelisations of existing gaming / televised media? :/

[dapper-lil-arts]

Starlight is funny as hell even just as a concept

[puppy-barkz]

i may be a starlight apologist but i do indeedy think her reason for being a villain was dumb as heck, especially for how extreme of a villain she was

[kellerybird]

ok but what if aurelia worships the god of arepo............

[cherrymoonvol6]

.

[idkwidatp]

Are there any fanfics about bow and the whole "I understand friendship is hard you have to work at it so why am I the only one that's willing to work at it" thing? because boys night out is one of if not my favorite episode because of the angst from bow and how frustrated he seems and I wish me got more of that and also that episode makes me hate season 4 glimmer more.

[kael-writ]

All you Brennan Lee Mulligan fans should check out this strange and haunting short film he did in 2018, it's very good and impactful, definitely very emotionally riveting, disturbing, thought provoking. It's different from his other work because he is appearing as an actor with a different team (writer, director). The writing and directing is fantastic, holy shit, and the performances range from good to what the fuck (complimentary). It's a dark comedy, so there's lots of comedic moments and there's a glimmer of potential hope that can be read in it but it is also a gut wrenching exploration of trauma, survivor's guilt, and guilt by association... It's a lot, I could write a whole essay on it, it's fascinating.

(some content warnings may apply, it's a bit of a spoiler but there is a backstory involving violence against women committed by an offscreen character that isnt seen in any way but is a major visceral theme. It's something I like about it, but it definitely could be triggering and feel free to ask for clarification).

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

so I saw your requests are open. It seems that Astarion believes- at least in the beginning- that his purpose is to give pleasure. He does it to survive, he does it to gain Tavs trust and affection... what if Tav takes it upon herself to pleasure him. I HC Astarion is more dominant as he regains his autonomy, after centuries of having no say or control hiw would he react to Tav gently kissing him, asking him to let her make him feel good for a change. He's spent all this time giving, he deserves to receive for once. Expecting nothing in return.

Yaaas, let's go. I think I may have made this a lil fluffier than what you had in mind but hopefully it works! Playful/Sweet Tav! This is set before he admits his feelings but still in act 2 so he's like close!

TW: They bang and it's graphic under the cut with some mentions of his backstory, which is fucked up. But yeah, sexing is occurring. 18+ That's it. Pretty sweet outside of his backstory.

~

Astarion was aware the sex could be enjoyable, despite the centuries of the act being used against him. There had been glimmers of genuine pleasure through it all, mostly poisoned by the knowledge of what happened to all of his conquests when the job was finished after, but still. They were there.

Enough for Astarion to be somewhat prepared for the loveliness of being with you. When he had made the choice to seduce you, he had done it assuming that sex would be mediocre at best, and unpleasant at worst.

But no. Instead it just felt... wonderful. A word that Astarion was not used to associating with the deed. Though he supposed it made sense. He did like you after all, even outside of the protection he could get out of you. You were intelligent enough to make for good conversation; you were fun, mischievous even. Enough to match up with his own bitchy little quips. But you were also... sweet. Caring even, though it seemed you had a habit of giving that care to the least deserving mortals in the realm.

Not that that was a bad thing. He had been more than ready to use that kind nature against. It was so easy to worm his way into your heart. And the sex was good? Astarion's luck was almost certainly on the edge of running out, but he'd happily take advantage of the streak while he could.

You were just... so submissive. So ready for him to take the lead. Astarion had developed many personas in bed over the centuries, cultivating them for whatever situation he may need. But they were always tools, it had little or nothing to do with what he wanted. Just what he could use to lure them back to their deaths.

In all honesty, he had tried to do the exact same with you, and he would have too if he hadn't lost control on that first night. But then you had to bare your neck to him, the siren song of your blood screaming at him to bite. And then he just... lost control.

Was it the best sex of Astarion's life? Yes. Was he about to tell you that? No.

And it kept being good. Even on the nights he didn't drink from you, he liked it. Borderline loved it, if he was emotionally capable of associating that word with you. And he wanted to enjoy it while he could. He knew deep down that this was temporary, for more reasons than one. Soon enough he simply wouldn't need you anymore. After you defeated the demon for Raphael, Astarion would have some idea of Cazador's plans, and maybe enough to figure out a way to secure his freedom for good. And unless you planned on killing the man yourself, he... wouldn't have any reason to keep the facade going. Not to mention the obvious fact that you could wake up from your lust-induced stupor and break things off at any moment. Astarion wasn't looking forward to either outcome. But how else would this end? It's not like the two of you could set off into the sunset together, like some inane fairytale.

... right?

Astarion wasn't quite sure anymore. And he certainly wasn't going to figure it out any time soon. It was easier just to push the whole thing out of his mind. Especially now, when the two of you finally had a private room at the Last Light Inn, thank the gods. One more night of calm before they rushed into a temple full of horrors.

It was hard to hide his excitement as he pushed you onto the bed, his fangs already sharpening in anticipation. He wanted you to be marked head to toe by the end of the night, bites, bruises, anything and everything to remind you that you were his.

At least for tonight.

"Wait, wait!" You laughed as Astarion crawled over you, wasting no time in trying to claw your clothes off.

But the ask was enough to make him pause, a flash of worry running through his when he asked, "What's wrong? Did I- are you okay?"

You shook your head at him with a smile, your legs suddenly wrapping tightly around his waist "Nothing sweetheart, I'm fine. But..."

The next thing Astarion knew you were always flipping him over, so fast that he couldn't help but be impressed. He always underestimated just how strong you were. You grinned down at him as you sat atop his thighs, your hands rubbing over his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt, "But I think it's my turn to spoil you for a change."

Astarion furrowed his brow, sincerely confused for a moment. And maybe even a little self-conscious, "Why? I mean-do you not like how-"

"You're very good darling," You gently interrupted with a laugh, your hands already working to pull his shirt over his head, laughed as you sat atop his thighs, doing the work to unbutton his shirt, "Best I've ever had, sincerely. But don't you think that things have been a bit one-sided?"

He hadn't, not for a moment, but he sure as hells wasn't going to complain. Not when he had a gorgeous woman on top of him, one who was already doing the work of taking his cock out.

"Let me take care of you for once," You murmured as you started to stroke his length, pre-come already dribbling at the tip, "Anything you want is yours tonight. Just say the word."

Astarion blinked up at you, momentarily at a loss before regaining his usual confidence. Or at least some of it, "Taking your clothes off would be a fantastic start."

You laughed as you did just that, light and airy while you tore your shirt over your head. Astarion didn't waste any time in surging forward, latching his mouth around your nipple with a groan.

He wrapped his arms around your bare back, pulling you closer as you moaned.

"I'm supposed to be pleasing you," You panted as you slipped your skirt down your thighs, tossing it to the side as he suckled on your chest, "Remember?"

"Pleasing you pleases me," Astarion popped off with a chuckle, looking up at you with dark eyes, "Lovely thing that you are."

You softly smiled down at him before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. And then you were squirming away from him. Ducking out of his arms and lap.

He just hadn't expected you to sink to your knees in front of the bed. You rubbed at his thighs, so close to him that he could feel the heat of your breath against his length.

"Can I?" You asked coyly, the question sweet enough to make him shiver. He would never get tired of that, you always asking for permission for the smallest little things.

Astarion sat up with a smile and a nod, tangling his fingers in your hair as he said, "Of course my sweet, go right ahead."

And off you went. You wrapped your lips around the head, suckling on it like the little minx you were. You looked beautiful down there, your hair in disarray as you swallowed around his cock; more than happy to let him take the lead and force your head to take him fully down your throat.

You were drooling around him, staring up at him with your big wet eyes as you worked your tongue around him. It felt wonderful, amazing even. But it wasn't enough. As lovely as your throat was, it was only his second favorite place to store his cock.

"Get up here my love," Astarion ordered, his voice rough and his mind too preoccupied to notice his own slip. He tightened the hand in your hair, easing you off of his cock with a groan, "As wonderful as your mouth is, I want to be inside you."

You grinned up at him before gracefully standing, your breasts on full display, pretty enough to make Astarion's mouth water. You pushed him back first onto the bed before crawling over him again, the heat of your wet cunt so close to his sensitive cock. You gripped the base of it before rubbing the head over your folds, whimpering as you used him to circle your own clit.

It felt amazing, and it looked even better. But Astarion was nearly out of patience. He gripped your hips, his nails just on the edge of piercing your skin as he growled at you, "Are you trying to kill me darling?"

"Just the opposite," You breathily laughed as you finally started to sink down onto his cock, brokenly moaning all the while, "J-Just want to make you feel good."

You were so wet, tight and perfect around him. And the noises you were making, all of your little whimpers and whines. They would be haunting his dreams for years to come. But it still wasn't enough. Despite how lovely it was to have you bouncing in his lap, he couldn't help but thrust up inside of you, matching your movements in tandem.

You gasped as he really started to fuck into you, hard and deep enough to bring tears to your eyes. You were clutching at his chest, hard enough to make him bleed. Not that he cared. How could he when he had you like this? Desperate and needy as you pussy leaked slick onto him, so soaked that Astarion knew that you had to be close.

It had been a long instilled habit of Astarion to be sure his partner always reached their peak first. It was nearly ingrained in his DNA at this point, a pattern that he had no intention of breaking anytime soon.

But then you were leaning in to kiss him, something that shouldn't have caught him off guard, yet it did.

The press of your lips to his felt so soft, so sweet, nothing like the way he was savagely fucking into you. It was gentle, loving even. And before Astarion knew it he was coming, his end abrupt and explosive. It felt like fireworks bursting behind his eyes; he barely even had the wherewithal to move his hand to rub at your clit. But he managed, and soon enough you were crying out above him, your pussy clenching hard around his still leaking cock.

You were still kissing him in that same tender way, softly licking into his mouth as warmth overtook him. He felt... good. Too good even. Enough so where he barely knew what to do with himself.

You pulled away first, but you didn't go far. Thank the gods, Astarion wasn't... he didn't know if he could handle being apart from you at the moment. You rested your forehead against his, smiling down at him with a smitten look, one that made his heart clench.

"Did you like that?" You asked softly, wincing slightly as you pulled off of his cock, "Because I sure did."

I love you.

The thought came sudden and unbidden, screaming into the front of his mind without his consent. He didn't-he wasn't-why had that come into his head at all?

Astarion tried to stomp the wayward thought down as he gave you a strained smile.

"I loved it," He answered sincerely, the truth of his feelings far too close to the truth of his idiotic heart, "I-thank you darling. You really are amazing, aren't you?"

"Such a charmer," You sighed as you laid down next to him, reaching out to tangle your fingers together, "I really never stood a chance against you, did I?"

That was almost enough to make Astarion break out in hysterical laughter.

But instead he squeezed your hand, his eyes turned to the ceiling while a conflicted smile graced his face, "No. You never did."

He could only hope that continued to be true.

[yandere-romanticaa]

It's a good evening to write and you're all craving something for Viktor, which I shall deliver. I haven't started writing part two of his backstory but I'll get to it. Eventually.

Also, if you're interested I made a Pinterest board for this man and I'll regularly add images there. Thank you all for the support and please enjoy this little blurb. ♥️

masterlist.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who after he takes you for himself, starts to do little but intimate things with you around the house. The first few days, possibly weeks, were spent with endless screams, pleas and tears. Viktor hated seeing you in such a state, he hated the fact that he was the reason for your bitter tears and silent whimpers.

However, his patience outweighed his sorrow. He was willing to wait until the stars in the whole universe imploded for you to love him.

But, for now, not feeling the need to flinch away from him and his touch would be a good start.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who tells you about his day as he makes you dinner. Viktor understands that communication is important and that he needs to establish some things, and what better way to do that than by talking? Of course, he is rather awkward at it, as he has no idea what to talk about aside from his work. There are times when Viktor tries to tap into your interests and wants to ease your fear but it almost never works. What a pity...

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who starts over sharing specific details about his work which depending on your mental state could either be terrifying, useful or some morbid combination of both. Viktor tells you of the people who come to his table, all dead and all his to dissect. There's an odd glimmer in his dark eyes as his dominant hand mimics movements of his sharp scalp. The way in which he speaks sends shivers down your spine, it was rare to see someone so emotionless show even the faintest sparks of passion.

If the situation was not already so grim, his childlike excitement could even be considered cute.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who tries so hard to accommodate you and your whims! While he does keep you locked up, your little cage is more than furnished - soft blankets, pillows fit for royalty of old, little trinkets which could keep you entertained and perhaps even a television if he sees fit. Viktor may not understand social cues but he is not stupid either. He doesn't want your brain to rot away in that room, especially when he's not home!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who sometimes sneaks into your room and just. Stands there. Watching you, his gaze neutral but his eyes are blown wide. He does not want to be caught so he makes sure to control his ragged breathing and beating heart. Can you hear him, even when you're knocked out cold? Can you feel him, his presence? A part of him wishes to stay hidden in the shadows, where it's safer, where he can keep a close on you. But his bolder side demands more, more, more.

Who knows, he might just sliver under the covers with you one day. But, one step at a time.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince, @latolover, @samuraijack, @moyazami, @sunhareskies, @red-viewe

[lunarbreaksblog]

Hi! if the request/ask is open, if so, could you do of tfp, with human (gn! or f!) Reader? Romantic/Platonic

This Human's a cinnamon roll, somewhat naive/innocent (and has similar personality/backstory of Perrito from the Puss in Boots movie or Fluttershy from MLP). They're very motherly and being nurse/therapy-like friend and also a Pacifist yet can be passive-aggressive…

I just decided to do an Autobot version :)

Autobots with a Cinnamon roll!Gender neutral!Reader

You are an absolute cinnamon roll that the Autobots collectively decided to adopt. They might not know much about humans but can see the telltale signs, even if they are a different species from you— abuse is always the same.

The fact that you remain so naive and happy. That's what makes you special to them and the fact that you always try to help others.

Optimus prime:

Absolutely applauds you for everything you manage to do, loves your pacifism stance. Most importantly you know when pacifism doesn't work.

Loves helping you with things when has the time since you would do the same for him.

Basically you guys get on like a old 'but still very much in love' married couple

Ratchet:

He really does like you however your optimistic view annoy him at times but he appreciate your views, it gives me some glimmer of hope in this war.

Asks you questions about mental health since human mental health is basically cybertronian mental health— which he finds interesting on its own but learning more about humans seem to add more layers to your personality.

Is always sweet to you and raf❤

Bulkhead:

From his experience in the wreckers— he can see your masking since half the boys in the wreckers didn't have 'the greatest of mental healths'

Absolutely adores you tho, he's patient he'll wait for you to open up to him.

Likes to remind you that he is there for you.

Loves the fact that you try to nurse him sometimes.

Bumblebee;

Just like Bulkhead he adores you so much— with your motherly attitude, he loves chatting with you— telling you some of his problems or what things he found difficult that day.

You just listen and him your two cents every now and then, he loves it!

However he does notice how wrong somethings are whenever you talk about your childhood. He knows enough about what a childhood should be and what it shouldn't be

Arcee:

Is a little confused by you.

Shes annoyed on one hand with your naive nature but on the other hand— she gets it

She's also been done dirty by the universe and she can see it in you as well. The fact that you continue with your pacifism even when injured so badly— shes uncomfortable with it.

You are so much stronger than her.

The fact you let her talk to you about her issues and the fact that you listen and try to help!

She's going to protect you to the ends of the earth.

Feel free to request!

[neighbourscat]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 , nicholas alexander chavez

MY BOOGIE SHOES, JUST TO BOOGIE WITH YOU.

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . screen actor!nicholas c. X stage actress!black!fem!reader.

+ synopsis. dancing around your new york apartment with your boyfriend, nicholas chavez, after a tiring final show.

+ cw. mature language & suggestive stage dancing … but none, really (: just smiles, dancing, and good music!

+ nali’s notes; i love 70s-80s music soooo much. dreaming of a cold autumn / christmas fic in this tiny nyc apartment. all the short stories that’ll probably come from this nyc apartment, like a little tv show. the neighbours would have their own backstories & cute interactions. omg should i do that???? a nyc apartment series, kind of like friends or martin??? wordcount :: 2.1k+

+ to be played: dancing in the dark, bruce springsteen. || alternative: slow dancing in the dark, joji. + everybody wants to rule the world, tears for fears.

MY BOOGIE SHOES, JUST TO BOOGIE WITH YOU.

he moved his left foot backward in a smooth motion, sliding across the slick, slightly scoffed, pine theatre stage. two blue overhead spotlights had shone down onto him, highlighting and allowing the golden sequins along his black-costume pants to sparkle and glimmer. the sharp, metal heels of his four-taps no longer producing sound . .. . the active trumpet-players, acoustic guitarists, and drummers eased and eased their instruments into a low twinkle —

— the audience knew what time it was. another character was about to be introduced. in the orchestra pit, the conductor quickly switched her attention to the violinists and flute-players, baton up in the air and readied for the new entrance. the elder english woman gave the group a small cue, flicking her wrist in beat: 1, 2, 3, 4. and as the violins, violas and cellos came in quiet and steady . .. . the male dancer at the far end of the stage reached up and slowly removed the costume fedora from his neatly styled hair, staring over to his stage left.

your beautiful, brilliant and glittery gold mary-jane style tap shoes clicked as you gracefully entered from stage left — the gold fringes of your body-con mini dress flapped and swung every which way as you rolled your costume glove over your right hand, the music coming from the violins and flute-players transforming into something hot and seductive.

your glove snug — the trumpets have returned, this time with the trombones and horns, easy and gentle — with what looked to be absolutely effortless, your body control impeccable, you swayed toward your dance partner. and once as close as rehearsed, you slid your left foot backward; lining yourself up with your partner, you raised your arms neatly, fingers almost wiggling.

your partner snaked an arm around your waist, his opposite hand sensually caressing the under side of your arm — his fingers tightened on your ribs. you felt his plump lips brush against the soft skin of your neck, you don’t hold back a mini smile. and after a thirty-second sleek, clean sequence of sneaky smirks, lustful eyes, gyrating hips, and chasing each other’s feet with mirroring steps on beat — you and your partner stand center stage; he had just spun you out and away and reeled you back in, unable to give you up. you’re overlooking the hungry crowd, toe to toe, hips pressed into each other’s . .. .

the conductor slowly lifted her baton, the orchestra picking up their pace just a bit . .. . more dancers began to take the stage, ten men on one end and ten women on the other, all styled to absolute perfection — you ripped away from your partner, his hand lingering in the air as you hurry toward the women. you strike a pose and the women behind you follow suite, just as clean and precise. the men chuckle amongst themselves, lips moving but nothing being said. your partner took his place in front of the men, eyeing you down.

the blue spotlights went out and back in on beat; this time colored red. the percussion picking up intensity . .. . the atmosphere no longer showcasing love and attraction, but lust and obsession — the red spotlights darkened and blinked in and out powerfully, percussion played fast and with high energy, the string and horn instruments carried out in unison, background voices sounding . .. .

nicholas chavez, anxiously chewing at the skin of his fingers, watched as the other casted dancers performed with everything they had — his eyes working even harder to follow you around. he stopped chewing at his skin then, trying to focus his eyes on you; he couldn’t do the two at the same time. different variations of gold leotards and ruffled dresses and flown pantsuits, the maracas, xylophone — so much was happening at once. portraying chaos perfectly.

every time he found you, he had lost you just as quick. nicholas shifted in the cushioned chair a bit, mindful of the young woman sitting behind him — the saxophones and trumpets intensified, the gold-clad dancers continued shuffling and leaping up and down and around the large pine stage, metal heels touching down with the beats.

the entire stage was bathed in deep, sultry red light, casting long, dramatic shadows over each dancer — the red hue seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the music, bodies moved with precision and purpose, every step choreographed to build toward the crescendo of the performance. the audience watched in awe — nicholas’ eyes never leaving your amazing form — the dancers' figures sharp and striking against the glowing backdrop.

each dancer’s silhouette was satiny, their limbs cutting through the air like blades as they glided to their spots. and as the music swelled, the dancers reached their final positions, holding their forms in an intense, powerful tableau. their bodies arched and poised, chins tilted upwards with defiance, hands spread in graceful curves or clutched at their hips in dominance. the red light drenching them, casting their figures into stark, dramatic silhouettes — elegant and imposing, yet full of tension.

their shadows stretched behind them, larger-than-life, as if their presence demanded more than the stage could contain. the audience held its breath, the stillness of the final pose amplifying the raw energy. it was a picture of controlled power, desire, and neat mess.

the world beyond the stage faded, and all that was left were the figures frozen in that moment — red and black, light and shadow — a vision of drama and allure, like something out of a fevered dream. then, as the final note lingered in the air, the curtain slowly began to close up.

you were curled up on the couch, still basking in the soft afterglow of the evening. your legs draped over nicholas’ lap, the warmth from his hand gently tracing heart-shape patterns on your ankle. the exhaustion from your final show was settling in, but being home with him — no more hotels, no more cast gatherings, no more living through an intense schedule; eight shows a week — felt like the perfect ending to an overwhelming night.

nicholas shifted beneath you, the faintest grin pulling at his lips. “you know .. .” he hummed casually, “.. . i’ve been thinking.” that was never good. you respond with a low groan, rubbing your tired eyes, “no. i’m not doin’ it.”

“can i-i’ve gotta get it out first before you tell me ‘no’,” he said, nudging your arm. “i don’t want a lot or anything .. y’know, crazy. i just want your help.”

you stopped rubbing your eyes, dropping your hand down into your lap. you gave a look that said: ‘go on’ and he did, giving your ankle a loving squeeze: “i want you to teach me how to dance.” he sounded serious, but you couldn’t exactly tell. you blinked, face and gaze blank and revealing nothing. you turned back to the television, an early episode of glee rolling.

nicholas stood up then, gently moving your legs off of his lap. he reached out his hand toward you. you had performed so beautifully with your dance partner, nicholas wanted to move with you the same. “nicholas .. .” you stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, “sit back down. seriously.”

“come’on.” his brown eyes soft but determined. “just a little bit. five minutes, hmm?” he was hopeful, still waiting for you. “i’ll take anything. anythin’ i can get, okay? i’ll be grateful for whatever.” you shook your head as an answer and laid back into the plush cushion, arms crossing over your chest. “nic . .. . you can’t dance,” you said in a simple, matter-of-fact voice — not trying to be harsh or mean, and nicholas didn’t take it as such.

he knew he couldn’t. “well, baby, that’s why i’m asking you to teach me.” you looked to his big hand; he made a gentle grabby motion twice, urging you — and back up your eyes went. “i can’t teach rhythm.” nicholas dropped his hand with a hoarse grumble. you sighed, feeling your body protesting the idea of getting up, but the way nicholas was still looking down at you, with that mix of earnestness and affection, made you give in. with a groan, you held out your hand — nicholas smiled wide and pulled you to your feet.

“five minutes.”

“all i need,” nicholas confirmed with a silly smile, dragging you over to the other side of the couch. your shared apartment wasn’t spacious, for no apartment was this side of queens, new york. your deep-grey tabby cat, ruby; the world’s most mischievous kitty, climbed back in through the open window and landed on her feet, gracefully. after an afternoon of racing up and down the fire-escape and most of the block ( ruby, though mischievous, was a friendly animal ), she was ready to be in her bed.

her bed; nicholas’ pillow.

“okay, so what’s first?” nicholas clapped his hands together, anticipating the next five minutes. “music,” you said, reaching down for your phone in between the couch cushions. “oh, how about from your show? i really love the gold one, what’s that song’s name?” he went over and picked up the musical’s playbill, flipping through the first couple of pages, “that song .. when you come out for the first time and look hot?” you almost laugh, unlocking your phone and scrolling through your music. “i’m not teachin’ you that, nic.”

“look, baby, if you’re worried about there not being enough room, let’s not worry, we can move this couch around some .. . throw the cat back outside-“ you stopped him right there, “or you can get out?” nicholas laughed at that, apologizing softly, coming up behind you. his hands found your waist and his chin dug into the skin of your shoulder, watching as your finger scrolled and scrolled. your finger touched down then, the bluetooth speaker in the corner coming to life immediately.

it started off as slow, lazy dancing in the living room to random musical theatre soundtracks . .. . the moonlight streaming through the large open windows, casting cool white rays over the hardwood floors — but quickly turned into a party.

you slid in from the hall opening, wearing oversized socks, loose basketball shorts, and a baggy football jersey; from nicholas’ side of the closet, your body rocking to the rhythm. you’re holding a wooden spoon, it’s your imaginary microphone, dramatically lip-syncing to bruce springsteen’s dancing in the dark, your expression playful and exaggerated.

nicholas was in the kitchen, a spatula in his hands and dragging his fingers along the handle as if it were an electric guitar, wearing a goofy grin. he’s wearing fuzzy socks, slipping across the floor, attempting to match your moves, his brown hair messy, his shirt half-tucked — this impromptu dance-off felt as though it had been going on for hours. nicholas moved to you, your energy completely in sync, lost in the fun of the moment.

you twirled away, laughing as you swung around the kitchen island, your socks giving you just the right amount of glide across the floor. you threw a hand up, pointing at nicholas like a pop star mid-performance, mouthing bruce springsteen’s lyrics. nicholas laughed, feigning a swoon, then slid back toward you, pulling you into a silly two-step.

and now you’re in the hallway again, where you’re at his side, arm wrapped around him, shuffling in time with the beat. you and nicholas sing together now, the music barely audible over your screaming voices, off-key but full of love.

you pushed nicholas away with a playful shove — he stumbled dramatically and recovered in seconds, lip-syncing passionately. as passionate as before. maybe even more so.

you end up in the living room, this time nicholas was spinning you around — as you twirl and spin with your boyfriend, the music grew louder. your body moved with his perfectly, not with precision or control, but with the kind of ease that comes from knowing each other so well. nicholas pulled you in close, your face just inches from his . .. . he’s grinning down at you like a kid, heart racing and thrashing cutely.

bruce springsteen faded smoothly into tears for fears — nicholas started his air guitar again and you bounced toward the kitchen, grabbing your wooden spoon again. braids flipped over one shoulder, you lifted yourself up onto the island in time for the first verse of everybody wants to rule the world. swinging your dangling feet and rocking your head side to side to the drums, you sang into the spoon.

and by the instrumental break, you and nicholas are skating through the hall, singing and dancing with reckless abandon, whirling and dipping, in your own little world. you’re breathless, your face flushed with laughter — watching nicholas overdo the solo guitar outro from where you sat on the couch’s armrest. he dropped onto his knees and rolled onto his back, his feet kicking into the air.

and as the strumming died, you collapsed back onto the couch in a heap, panting and drinking from nicholas’ cold bottle of pepsi. you and nicholas both jumped up startled hearing the grating pound of fists at the front door — ruby sprung from where she laid and ran around hysterically, you and nicholas scrambled to get up; you rushed behind the couch to quickly turn the blasting speaker down and he went to the front door. nicholas was squinting through the peephole, “fuck-it’s minnie .. .” ms. minnie from two doors down hated loud noises.

but she hated the young people scattered along the fourth floor even more.

[redrandomposts]

till narrowly missing ivan in every universe, either literally or figuratively, makes me giggle and cry at the same time AUUHSHSJSH if he was a regressor/reincarnator and og/alnst!till was watching his later incarnations, mans would be bald from tearing his hair out in frustration

"LOOK BACK MF LOOK BACK, YOU JUST MISSED HIM"

"THATS NOT WHAT HE MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR NTH SEXUALITY CRISIS, IVAN IS MOVING AWAY TOMORROW. MOVE IT"

and imagine his previous incarnations from other failed lifetimes watching the current lifetime with him and theyre all in the same frustrated state 😭

"can we PLEASE have one lifetime where we dont end up breaking his heart ? can we PLEASE—"

— 🌦️

HAHAHAHAHA LMAOOOOO

doomed lovers and tills watching it all happen, kicking and screaming

everytime an incarnation pops up in their little hell, he is kicked and beaten up and treated as a less-than-human being until the next one meets ivan. and then they're too focused watching how till (yes, that's you, a dumbass) misses every smile and glimmer of eyes and heartbreak that ivan shows.

"what the fuck?! what's he doing?! ivan is right there, don't go hitting on her - fuck! who is that idiot!"

"that idiot is you! do you remember how you made ivan your best man at your wedding?!"

"says the one had an arranged marriage with him then went to war and came home in love with a nurse!"

"all of you are idiots!"

and none of the tills know og till's backstory. most of the time he's writing songs and playing the guitar, as all of them do, but in a more extreme way. there's a little library with all the songs the tills have made, each shelf a different life. og till's is a whole bookshelf, but the ones about ivan only starts after he first appeared here.

(there's also the songs each and every ivan has made about till, for till, to till. those are treated much better than the ones the tills haphazardly throws into their respective shelves. they're encased in gold and glass, just as unattainable as ivan seems to be.)

extra reactions according to some of my aus (except it's all the bad ends and ooc??):

omegaverse

"...what the fuck?"

"WHAT'S A PHEROMONE?! ALPHA? THAT'S SO CRINGEY? WTF"

"GUYS!!! IVAN CAN BE PREGNANT-"

"-SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"

"holy fuck"

"it was indeed a fuck"

"did you know ivan could moa-"

"fucking hell we're all tills we're all here we all know!"

"BLOOD! GET A TISSUE YOU FREAK-"

"HALF OF US HAVE NOSEBLEEDS WDYM"

"please please please till hE IS PREGNANT-"

"..."

"what the fuck."

"HE'S DEAD?"

"guys i don't ever wanna get ivan pregnant if that's what's going to happen"

android au

"...he owns ivan..?"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR?? WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE IVAN??"

"surely they fall in love, right?"

"don't fucking jinx it, you moron!"

"ivan's so cute... look! he's cutting the veggies into flowers!"

"hey! till! say thank you to ivan!!"

"ugh, can't he just get out the studio so i can see ivan??"

"till, can't you just be a stay at home musician?!"

"aww!! aren't those flowers in the stitching?"

"oh my god ivan hand sewed him clothes?!"

"that's not fair! ivan! you can't just give things to the idiot! or else!! ...or else."

"...you fucking jinxed it!!! ivan!!! you can't die!"

"how'd i know that they'd just shoot and never stop shooting?"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??"

"i'll fucking BEAT THEM UP I SWEAR."

"??? why's he only just checked the cameras now since he got ivan?"

"...ivan's voice is so heavenly."

"..."

zombie au

"is it another boring one? haven't we already seen till and ivan have normal lives and drift apart or something else?"

"maybe this time, till will..."

"shut UP! CROW'S MOUTH, I SWEAR"

"nevermind that is nOT NORMAL FUCK"

"OH MY GOD HE IS ROTTING AND MOVING??"

"IVAN GET AWAY FROM THERE -"

"...ivan?"

"FUCK! HE DID IT AGAIN!"

"TILL YOU FUCKER GO BACK FOR HIM!!"

"...at least we still have ivan."

"...and till knows he loves ivan."

"...and they kissed."

".....oh fucking hell, why are you so happy?! ivan's basically till's dog! till doesn't deserve him!"

"well, as long as they cure ivan, they'll be together for real, right?"

"..."

"YOU FUCKING JINXED IT-"

"WHY'D THAT RANDO JUST SHOOT IVAN???

mermaid au

"oh my god he's a fish -"

"- ivan looks like a prince!"

"??? how can you be so rude to ivan!"

"why are his thoughts so weird? ivan's a human, not some pearl! he has dignity!"

"he's much better than some pearl, too."

"till knows he loves ivan, right??? surely??? with those thoughts..."

"i wanna see ivan's eyes...."

"i wanna see ivan's smile..."

"fuck! till, just speak to him god damnit!"

"oh my god!!! ivan!!!"

"??? where's his fishy parts?? ow, don't hit me-"

"...he looks so fine."

"hey! he's sixteen! you are definitely not sixteen, you fucking homewrecker!!"

"homewrecker?! i didn't cheat!!"

"you wrecked your and ivan's house life!"

"what?"

"where'd the letter come from??"

"how's there sea foam???"

"IVANNNN!"

"HE'S DEAD? JUST LIKE THAT?"

"HE DESERVED MORE YOU FUCKER-"

===

anyways im going to edit my masterlist to be better ig

[ttulipwritezz]

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 2 -  Expectations

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you have left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: This is more of the backstory and how they came to be, along with lots of awkwardness from both ends, I promise there's more remus in the next chapter <3 oh and reunion with Sirius and thanks to @lixzey for making me wanna push the awkwardness~ :) If you enjoyed this please reblog and comment :)

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

You and Remus were in love, you had been in love for 6 years.

Everyone knew you'd be endgame, and your brother hated it, to an extent.

Sirius loved that his little sister was happy, that she had joy in her life after the roughness of their family life. But he was scared, scared because he knew how much Remus would push people away, push himself away.

He didn’t want you hurt. But you were.

~

You found out in October, two weeks before Halloween.

You had been talking with Lily through letters back and forth, discussing your recent morning nausea and sickness.

She had asked when was the last time you and Remus had slept together, strange you considered that question, you replied a week ago at most.

Her letter came back with the words "you might be pregnant, dear...why don't you take this potion i sent along?"

And along with it there was a potion in a small vial with a piece of parchment guiding you through the process.

All you had to do was drink half of the potion and wait for the other half to shift hues.

And sure enough, the once rust coloured potion soon turned blue, signalling your current state.

You were carrying Remus's child, a child you hadn't talked about, a child you were sure you weren't ready for.

~

It was now hallows eve, the day you thought you had worked up the courage to tell Remus.

Children around town had just finished trick or treating and your husband was bringing back the basket with remaining candy.

He came into the bedroom with you and went straight to the shower, promising to return in a bit.

Your eyes heavy with sleep, you sit down on the edge of the bed, waiting for Remus to come out of the bathroom.

He sees them on your trousers before in your eyes, your tears. His brows furrowed in concern and pity as he looked at your face, eyes dull with sorrow and fear, so uncharacteristic of your usual glimmer and joy.

"What's the matter, dove?" He asks, voice slightly hoarse from the drowsiness in the back of his mind.

You don't answer, only look at him like you're out of words. You're thinking, thinking what a little Remus would look like, how they’d have the same nose, probably his same freckles dusting their face, and the same sandy locks of hair with deep roots.

You wonder if he'd want this, a kid, if this could be the one thing Remus would give up the world for.

"Come here, darling" he says and takes your body into his, nuzzling your face in the warmth of his polyester sweater. He understands, he always does.

That's how you sleep that night, unaware of the chaos that was soon to follow.

~

Remus rushed out of bed the moment  the potter's deer patronus knocked on the window.

The white buck stopped at the foot of his bed and let out a call of help, soon disintegrating to mist after.

That night Remus lost three friends, you lost a brother to azkaban and you lost Remus.

He left the morning after. With your heart shattered to pieces, you let him go.

Your mind screamed at you to tell him. Tell him and maybe he'd stay. Tell him and maybe he'd reconsider. But your heart, ever the kind one, ever the selfless one, let him go. In hopes that one day you'd see him again.

Remus was half expecting you to slam the door in his face. To make a face of absolute disgust and just lock him out. But of course the other half of him was longing to hold you, see you after so long. So it came as a welcome surprise when you widened the door and let him inside.

 "Uhm...come in, please, we were expecting you" You said,  trying not to let your voice waver.

Remus felt so awkward. His hands were clammy, his posture was stiff and his jaw was clenched. He felt like he couldn't move, no more than if he had been hit with the petrificus curse.

You weren't in a much better predicament yourself. You could feel your eyes pricking with tears at the mere sight of him. The same man who left you. The man you let go. The man you still loved.

As he made his way inside the house you let your eyes roam across his figure. His hands were littered in large scars, far bigger than those you'd seen before. His face was shrunken, eyes hollower than you remembered. His smile lines were far more prominent now and his sandy brown hair had a few streaks of grey littered throughout.

"Where is the rest of the order? Where's sirius?" Why did you leave? Why are you back? How are you? You had so many questions but the rest were best kept to yourself.

 "They're on the way, I was just...early" I wanted to see you. 

Remus hated himself for leaving you. He wanted to tell you that. He regretted each night, even more so on full moons. After leaving the realisation of what he had done dawned on him, it was already  too late.

Alas, by the time he had worked up the courage to talk, You were already making your way across the hall to embrace your brother who had just arrived.

When did he get there? How consumed in his thoughts was Remus?

You greeted Sirius with a hug and a look-over of his whole figure. His posture was shrunken, eyes even hollower than Remus's and instead of his signature smirk, only a ghost of a smile was left on his face.

A feeling of guilt consumed you. Your brother was back after azkaban. Innocent. And your mind was all consumed by Remus.

You ushered the rest of the order inside and told Regulus to pack up his things and clear out the living room. The confused and curious glances you got from everyone did little to ease your nerves.

Sirius pulled you aside. You prepared yourself for the conversation you knew was to follow.

“Who’s that?” 

It was a valid question, Sirius was well aware that Remus had left that night. After their teary reunion, the werewolf had gotten an earful from the oldest Black. He was shocked and thought that  you had found someone new, unlike Remus, Sirius was quick to notice the similarities between the small boy and you. He deduced that he was your son.

“Uhm- He’s my son.”

You were staring at your feet, and your hands were fidgety.

There was a long pause. The silence was so loud you could hear the clock ticking.

“I…I have a nephew?” His words came out uncertain. Cautious and slow.

With a hum you replied “His name is Regulus. Regulus Jace.” You left out the last name. Legally he was a lupin. And so were you. But it wasn’t that hard to conceal that at hogwarts.

At the mention of his little brother, Sirius seemed to grimace. But he put a smile on.

“You named him after Reggie?-” He asked. And continued as you opened your mouth to answer.

“Who’s..who’s the father?” He didn’t want to assume the worst. He was happy, truely he was. After that “bastard��� (as he put it) left you it was only fair. No matter how much he ached to see the two of you together again.

“It is Remus.” You replied, vulnerability lacing your voice.

His face seemed to light up, eyes widening, both in shock and delight. Before he would alert the whole house, however, you let him know one more thing.

“He doesn’t know. Neither of them do. I haven’t told them.” 

Your chest felt heavy, and your throat seemed to close up. It was hard for you to talk about. Despite being married you and Remus had never talked about kids, let alone with your friends. The feelings of contempt and guilt surrounded you.

Next thing you know, Sirius is pulling you in for a hug, securely wrapping his arms around you and trying to soothe your worries. His right hand wraps around your back as his left brushes against your hair in a calming manner.

It all comes crashing down. The weight of the lies, the guilt, the fear, the hatred. You cannot hold back the tears that rush down your face. A sob rakes though your body. You feel so much, everything, all at once, joy, relief, contempt, familiarity of an embrace.

But most of all...love. Love you haven’t felt in fourteen years.

Series Taglist (open): @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa @lovesanimals0000 @deathbyramennoodle-s @deadgirlsrunning @lovelyypythoness General Taglist (open): @desikudisworld @iamgayforyourmom1510

Please Reblog if you liked this~

[cenvast]

Kabru/Toshiro: A DunMeshi Ship Analysis

Kabshiro has been gaining more traction recently, so I'd like to dive into their canon dynamic and how a relationship between them could progress and benefit them both in the long run!

In my opinion, the main draws of this ship are:

Communication: Kabru's ability and willingness to identify and engage with Toshiro's true feelings and motives, Toshiro's consequential willingness to express himself to Kabru, and vice versa

Trust: The almost immediate trust they place in each other, despite their reservations

Canon Friendship: How naturally yet rapidly their canonical friendship develops, especially considering their characters (read as: their intimacy issues)

Growth: The potential for a) Toshiro to grow as a person by trying to be more expressive and caring towards someone who cares for him and b) Kabru to experience reciprocal effort and care from someone else when he's used to caring for everyone else

Bonus: I love to see queer men of color in love <3

1. Communication

Kabru is the character with the fastest and most accurate read on Toshiro's feelings and motives. This means little on its own, considering Kabru's skill is assessing people and giving them what they want as a means to his own ends. Initially, Kabru engages with Toshiro essentially to reach Laios. He hears Toshiro's retainers discuss Toshiro's love for "that girl from the North" and recognizes that if he offers to help Toshiro rescue Falin, he can get to Laios. As he does with most people, Kabru identifies Toshiro's goals and uses this knowledge to propel himself towards his own goals.

During Laios and Toshiro's conflict over ancient magic, Kabru again steps in. He de-escalates a situation where Toshiro quite literally has his tachi against Laios' neck by acknowledging Toshiro's concerns regarding ancient magic and reminding him of his actual priority: Falin. While his dialogue sounds harsh, Kabru still validates Toshiro's worries. His acknowledgement and engagement with Toshiro's actual feelings isn't something that Toshiro often experiences. In part, this is because Toshiro doesn't express himself, but we'll get into this more later.

From Kabru's perspective, reading and responding to Toshiro effectively is reflective of his usual habits and strengths. But their respective reactions to Kabru's de-escalation exchange remain notable. Toshiro tells Kabru to not finish his statement — the first glimmer we receive into Toshiro openly expressing himself to Kabru at a greater level than he does with other characters. Kabru immediately switches to looking relieved and sympathetic. He apologizes to and comforts Toshiro, establishing a foundation of genuine care and consideration between them.

2. Trust

After they leave the Dungeon following the first Faligon fight, Toshiro asks Kabru to go with him to the governor's house. Despite their only recent acquaintance, Toshiro expresses a need he has to Kabru, even if it's not a very personal one, and he trusts Kabru enough to rely on him in a high-stakes situation. (As a sidenote, Kabru telling Toshiro to "Please get some rest" is a sweet moment, considering both of their fraught relationships with self-care.)

Kabru trusts Toshiro in return. We as the readers don't learn about Kabru's backstory and how it drives his actions because he tells his own party or Laios. We learn about his past because he tells Toshiro.

Kabru addresses Toshiro by name before he recounts the death of his family and his haunting questions surrounding it. When he turns back to face Toshiro, he looks visibly determined and quietly enraged at the injustices he's experienced in his life for the first time during the narrative. Kabru does share his story to convince Toshiro of his position, but his straightforward, vulnerable delivery of his story and the emotions he has surrounding it speaks volumes towards the trust he has in Toshiro. He believes Toshiro will see him and stand by him.

Also, prior to Kabru sharing his backstory, Toshiro questions his motives multiple times. While Toshiro also questions Laios' actions, Toshiro feels comfortable enough to communicate with Kabru even when they might disagree and he isn't under duress.

Within the first few days of knowing each other, Kabru has witnessed Toshiro at some of his lowest points: passing out due to hunger and sleep deprivation and fighting Laios. Because Kabru has already seen him at his lowest and hasn't treated him worse because of it, Toshiro seems more comfortable engaging with Kabru than with many other characters. Toshiro's attempt to throw the companion bell away is a funny moment, but it also demonstrates how he's fine with acting impulsively in front of Kabru; he doesn't hold back as much as usual. He's likely also realized that Kabru can see past his reserved front.

After they speak to the Canaries, Kabru asks Toshiro to help him seal the Dungeon. Although Toshiro had originally planned to go back to Wa, he agrees to help Kabru. Compared to their initial meeting where Kabru was only using Toshiro to get to Laios, Kabru seems to genuinely want Toshiro and Namari on his side, telling them, "I'm counting on you." Both his request for Toshiro's help and his easy agreement demonstrate a surprising level of trust for how long they've known each other.

3. Canon Friendship

Neither Kabru nor Toshiro regularly open up to the people in their lives. We get the heart-to-heart between Toshiro and Laios after their fight, but other than that, Kabru and Toshiro are not very emotionally open even with people they've known since childhood like Rin and Hien. Kabru maintains his charismatic facade around Rin, and Toshiro has distanced himself from Hien in their adulthood. Because both of them struggle with being vulnerable, their friendship becomes close interestingly fast.

Beyond feeling comfortable around each other for the previously stated reasons, I'd suggest that the ease they feel around each other partially arises from their shared identity as Asian men and immigrants to the Island (Note: I read Kabru as South Asian). As a queer Asian man myself, there's sometimes an immediate sense of ease between people whose identities and experiences overlap.

Before they ever meet, Kabru explains Toshiro's background to his party. He opens with Toshiro's outsider status, drawing the reader's attention to the parallel between Toshiro being an outsider in his household and Kabru being an outsider as a tallman who was raised by elves. In this scene, Toshiro is also the only member of the Touden party whose motives Kabru ponders aloud. With Laios and Falin, Kabru simply declares them "not good people." Considering Kabru is intrigued by people he doesn't immediately understand, it's not difficult to assume that though Kabru approached Toshiro because of Laios, he was also interested in Toshiro as an individual.

After they join forces, Kabru and Toshiro frequently appear together in the story. The evolution of their dynamic can be seen through the mangacaps below. Initially, despite their trust in each other, they're still a little suspicious of each other. As time progresses, they develop a language of silent glances and casual touch. We often see them standing beside each other and exchanging looks after Laios speaks. Considering how Toshiro doesn't often voice his negative opinions and Kabru makes an effort to curtail his negative reactions around Laios, the fact that they've both taken to expressing silent concern for Laios to each other shows that they've reached a significant level of intimacy in just a week or two.

Since they're both men of color and Kabru is one of the only characters who doesn't call Toshiro "Shuro," they've likely discussed Laios' microaggressions towards Toshiro and bonded over how they find his sillier behavior of eating monsters disturbing. They also both care for him as a friend, so Laios remains another point of connection for them.

At the banquet, they sit beside each other, and when Falin revives, Kabru comforts Toshiro via a hand on his shoulder. The canonical affection between them is easy to track and consistent by the story's close.

4. Growth

As stated by @malaierba in their platonic kabshiro post, Kabru and Toshiro share narrative parallels like being raised by surrogate mothers, over-analyzing social situations, attempting to act in others' best interests at the cost of their own, and being terrible at basic self-care (I'm also realizing we both touched on the de-escalation and Kabru backstory scenes, lol). Both characters are actually extremely similar in the way they conceptualize themselves.

Kabru and Toshiro both avoid offending others by suppressing their discomfort. This behavior is deeply rooted in their backstories and their identities as people of color and immigrants. When you're the outsider, you don't have the luxury of acting as you please. Society expects you to keep your head down and not "cause a fuss."

They both fear selfishness. Kabru is the archetypal sacrificial hero; his goal is equality between the races and minimizing mass death no matter the personal cost to himself. On a much smaller scale, Toshiro tries not to burden others. They both forgo intimate relationships and falsify parts of themselves to accommodate others. Their willingness to minimize themselves for others' sake leads to them to not even canonically care for themselves and becomes a form of passive self-harm.

Toshiro doesn't eat or sleep during his rescue of Falin in what seems like a self-inflicted punishment for failing to protect her and save her. He seems to believe that he's only useful for what he can do and in particular, do for others. He seems to struggle to define himself outside of how he's overshadowed and overlooked by his charismatic father. Toshiro's arc is about learning to identify his own needs and wants, pursue those things, and express himself.

Because of how charismatic Kabru is, Kabru appears to have a secure sense of self, but I'd argue that he falls into the same trap as Toshiro. When Laios becomes the Dungeon Lord and seems to be ending the world, Kabru blames himself, saying, "What purpose does my surviving Utaya's tragedy have?" and "Please just kill me right now." Kabru hasn't ever established what he wants for himself outside of what he can do for others, just like Toshiro. While Kabru is far more active than Toshiro and his goals are more heroic, his arc is similarly about identifying his own needs and wants and expressing them as demonstrated by his confession that he wants to be Laios' friend.

Like Toshiro, Kabru is disconnected from his desires because he doesn't see himself as worth prioritizing over the greater good. He fails to regularly eat and clean his living space.

Kabru and Toshiro's friendship challenges both their negative habits of self-perception. Unlike with Laios, Toshiro wasn't quite as pivotal to Kabru's goal, so their relationship develops without as much pressure. Because of the extreme circumstances of their first meeting and their compatibility, they express their true feelings towards each other nearly from the onset, and by the banquet, they seem to hang around each other just for the joy of the other's company. When their friendship extends into a romantic/sexual relationship, they get to knock down yet another barrier to pursuing what and who they want simply because they want to.

In addition, because Kabru is the first person to care about Toshiro in a way that doesn't infringe on his boundaries, Toshiro would hopefully be motivated to become an active participant in their relationship. His efforts to be more emotionally open in order to support and care for Kabru would help him overcome his fatal flaws of passivity, especially in interpersonal communication, and walling himself off from others. But most importantly, Kabru would receive the same amount of care he invests in learning about and accommodating other people from someone else.

Toshiro is also an observant person. He's good at mapping out social situations to avoid conflict, and he is empathetic. With a little encouragement, he could easily turn skills he's used to pouring into his defense mechanisms towards actually reading his loved ones and engaging with their emotions and needs. If Toshiro was consistently clocking Kabru's actual reactions to things and trying to address his desires, Kabru would realize that he doesn't have to play a part all the time. He would learn to be more authentic and vulnerable in his relationships.

Notably, Rin does support Kabru, but he doesn't really accept her love or act vulnerable around her for a multitude of reasons. This is probably a good time to note that Kabru and Toshiro are both sexist. I want to believe that a healthy relationship between them would encourage them to mature without demanding emotional labor from the women in their lives, and by proxy, improve their relationships with Rin, Hien, and the other female characters. Personally, I really enjoy the idea of Kabru, Toshiro, Rin, and Namari getting close and bonding over being Asian.

5. Bonus

Because their identities as Asian men and immigrants impact their characters, their relationship has a unique type of intimacy. On a societal level, there isn't a lot of media about two characters of color in love. It's even rarer to see two queer characters of color in love in Western media (or Asian media like DunMeshi with an ethnically diverse cast) as oftentimes, the West falsely equates queerness to whiteness. I consider Kabshiro to be my personal contribution to making queer Asian characters kiss and decentering that white man /hj. I'd love to see more Kabshiro content!

Overall, I just think it's beautiful that these two characters who've resigned themselves to loneliness in completely opposite ways can overcome their intimacy issues to trust and care about each other. I like that being together is easy for them in many ways, but unlearning their habits of constantly putting on a front and rejecting vulnerability or not putting effort into relationships out of preemptive fear of failure still takes work. I like that their relationship is an intentional one where love takes effort, but the effort is part of the love.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

If you read this entire meta, thank you so much, and please feel free to reblog and/or send me an ask with your Kabshiro thoughts! As a shameless plug, you might enjoy my canon-compliant Kabshiro fanfiction that spans from the banquet to a few months post-canon. There's both an explicit version and a version with fade-to-black sex scenes. You can expect:

Kabru and Toshiro's silly friends-with-benefits era

A resolution for Toshiro's feelings for Falin, lol

Toshiro's difficult relationship with food

Kabru trying to 5D-chess everything, and Toshiro overthinking and catastrophizing <3

Kabru, Toshiro, and Laios being friends! They are silly and well-meaning and do their best to support each other

Kabru and Toshiro unpacking Laios' racism

Extremely homosexual moments of tenderness

Kabru, Rin, and Toshiro trio and Namari and Toshiro duo friendship tidbits

Kabru and Marcille becoming friends and bonding over gossip

Angst with a happy ending and more!

[liveontelevision]

Redemption Pt.2 | Lucifer x Reader

I'm kind of having a hard time getting motivation to write if anyone has any Luci prompts they wanna drop in my asks 👀

But for now, here's some more angsty fluffy slow burn Luci for y'all

(Check out Redemption Pt.1!)

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It's been an.. awkward... few weeks. You kissed Lucifer. You kissed the king of Hell, who you've known for almost 2 decades, your boss and best friend. If that information didn't overwhelm your brain enough, he's managed to make you doubt Redemption. Still undecided, you began to fear the outcome of just disappearing without getting to make a decision. Without saying goodbye.

Even with your mental disaray, Business went on as usual. You did your routine paperwork and helped out with anything Charlie needed. Lucifer wasn't asking much of you these days. You assumed the best of him. Maybe he was just too busy. Or maybe he was avoiding you. You shook the frightful thought out of your head only to suddenly be hit with the memory of Lucifer looking so lovely with your lipgloss all over his face and neck. Damned man has taken over your entire brain.

Charlie would often ask you to help with touring, partnering in exercises, or helping new residents set up. You didn't really consider how much free time you'd have without seeing Lucifer as much as you usually do. Some days, you did at least walk by him in passing. You would smile at him, maybe say good morning or hello, and he would do the same. Like strangers. His smile was always sweet in the past, but these had a sense of disparity behind them. You couldn't confide in your dearest friend, and your paranoia got the better of when considering going to others. But you needed another opinion.

"Well, shit! Good for you toots! That all tracks, Luci's clearly a bottom." Angel laid on his stomach, kicking his long legs in the air like some gossiping teen. You just needed some advice on redemption, but you ended up spilling out the entire interaction. You sat at his vanity, your arms crossed over your chest. "Angel, please. What do you think about redemption? You've been here longer than anyone, don't you.. worry..? About never seeing anyone here again?" Angel looked down for a moment before swinging his legs around and sitting at the edge of his bed. He pat the spot next to him, and you quickly took a seat by his side. He gripped the edge of his bed and hunched over his torso, propping himself up by his elbows with his upper set of limbs. "Actually? I'm terrified. I've been here for 70s years, kid. This is basically all I know now. I had a family, a buncha siblings, and a whole backstory n shit, but.." He spoke softly, his voice cracking at the mention of his biological family." I barely think of 'em. Even with Val up my ass, I think of this as my home now. Charlie and Vaggie, even Alastor - and.. Husk." He swooned, without even realizing, at his own words." I think you gotta want redemption, babes. Maybe that's why i'm still here. I dunno." He placed a hand on your shoulder and sent a sympathetic smile. The tender care you hadn't received in so long was too much. You sniffled a bit and let your head fall onto his shoulder. "I don't know what to do, Angel... " He rubbed your arm that had traveled around your shoulders as you attempted to slow your shakey brrath.

Lucifer did what he always did when he was stressed. He created. Frustration seemed to be a common inspiration for his.. hobby. He filled his office to the brim with ducks, each with a fun little feature that he came up with spur of the moment. Without acknowledging it, he did leave your desk clear. Like he was waiting for you to suddenly appear there, all neat and tidy. A glimmer of relief in the pool of chaos his life had become. This went on for days.

He was rarely a participant at the bar, alcohol was just another reminder of the wrecklessness that could occur with free will. But fuck, he needed a drink. Making sure it was far too late, to avoid any unexpected interactions, he went down to the lobby. Still looking dishoveled and exhuasted, he prayed that no one would be down there, to see the king of hell looking to get sloshed at 3 in the morning.

To his luck, it was empty. The lights were almost all off, but the lobby was still filled with the red glow of Pentagram city just down the hill. Letting out a sigh of relief, Lucifer steps behind the bar, struggling to read any labels without a set light. That didn't stop him one bit,, randomly taking a bottle and drinking whatever was inside. It didn't taste good, but his head finally seemed to forget your face for a moment. He'll realize how horrifying that felt in the morning.

Looking for another drink that didnt burn his throat, he continued to sort through the drinks without any clear light source. Letting out a frustrated scoff, he flung a handful of golden flames behind him, attempting to light a display of candles that sat at the bar counter for decor.

"Fuck - !"

The sudden voice that came from behind made him drop whatever drink he had in his hand. It shattered, the sound echoing through the cleanliness of the new lobby. He turned his body around way too fast, only managing to focus on your face after a few dizzying moments. You hold onto the top of your arm, a clean burn swiped right across your skin. His eyes were darting across the room, seeing only half of the candles lit, your sudden appearance and newly burned flesh, and a small flame forming on the top of the couch across the room.

Despite his dizzying mind, he snapped his fingers, planning to at least stop the couch from burning the whole place down. In this attempt, he managed to sinch all three flames, the room suddenly being plunged into a darkness that you both had to adjust to. Lucifer's overwhelmed senses made him stumble, clutching onto the edge of the counter and holding his spinning head in his hand. Everything he's felt for the past few weeks and the guilt of causing you any harm finally hit him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck - I'm sorry, i'm sorry..!" He wailed out, almost at the brink of tears. He gasped for air, his chest heavong. He could barely feel your hand brush across his back and start to rub it soothingly. He hitched his breath, doing his best to calm himself from this little attack. You had rounded the bar, your back leaning against the counter. standing at his side, you ran your fingers lightly across his back, starting to trace along his tense muscles. It was the smallest affection, yet he shuttered before feeling his unbalanced body relax, then began to sway in your direction.

"I'm okay, Lucifer..! I-I barely felt it! You're freaking yourself out, just try and - " his body finally hit yours after a stumble, his shoulder falling into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. You shifted your postion to brace him from behind, his back now flush against your chest as you leaned both of your weight onto the counter.

You did your best to keep a clear mind, but seeing your beloved friend in this state did nothing but make you panic. Your friend.. that's what he'll always be at the end of this. Your friend who you've known since you died, who took you in without ever considering you'd grow this close. Your friend, who's created an incredibly difficult decision for you to make.

"Sweetheart, I'm s-sorry! I never meant to scare you off! I-I'm so scared to lose you - I can't imagine my days without you, love, I need you -" you shushed him, needing to cool your absolutely heated face at his words, but also to keep anyone else from seeing this display. You ushered him to the front of the building and out the front doors.

Despite it being Hell, there was a light breeze that hit the both of you with a relief. Lucifer stumbled onto the nearest wall, finally releasing his face to adjust his eyes to the sudden change of setting.

Blinking slowly, he took in your appearance much longer than anticipated. You wore a comfortable baby blue slip that loosley hung over your figure. He surely wouldve taken the time appreciate your figure if you didnt have a a blanket bunched around your entirety. He did his best to not look disapointed, but failed miserably. You couldnt help but smile at his poor display of affection.

You took a hold onto Lucifer's clammy hands, making him turn redder than he was before from embarrassment. He took a moment to meet your eyes, something he hadnt done in days at this point.

"Come with me?" You spoke so neutrally, a clear tone that seemed to calm his thoughts. He simply nodded, allowing you to lead his staggering body around to the side of the building. It was a bit of a hike, but the brisk air and the movement seemed to settle Lucifer's high. That being said, he still kept his arm around your shoulders for balance.

Upon arrival, the sight was enough to startle him, a small walkthrough garden sprouting from the side of the building. It was lush with Hell's native fiolage, flowers and vines with dangerous looking thorns and teeth growing from them. The purples and reds growing from the fenced off border and the small iron table and bench that sat in the center just underneath an arch with flowers intermingled, it all looked so innocent.

"Wh-hhow.. what is this?" He managed to ask, looking over at you as you continued to lead him through the garden.  "I'm actually not sure. I don't remember seeing it in any blueprints when we redid the hotel, but i went for a walk and saw it here. Someone else must've put it together." You weren't sure if he was able to process that information, but you led him to sit on the bench with a thud. His body fell limp, hitting his head on the back of the frame with a ting.

You simply sat beside him for a moment in a bliss silence. It was comforting, despite all the previously chaos the two of you just went through.

"I should be scoldering you, sir. You haven't been drunk in years and last time you did - "

"Lillith. It was after she left, I know.." you only meant to call out how poorly he handled his liquor in the past, but it made your heart ache hearing him make that connection.

You let out an awkward agreement and continued to sit in silence for another moment longer. Lucifer finally let his head fall onto your shoulder and a sigh of relief escaped his lips, as you felt the heat coming off of his body.

"How'd you find this place? It's nice." He said softly, his voice raspy and wavering." I've been using it to escape.. to think." You said in an equally soft tone, unsure of his mental state at this point. You discovered this little hidden gem while desperately looking for air, struggling through one of your own panic attacks. Once you saw it the first time, it almost became a nightly routine. The walk to it was always clear from other demons, and passing Lucifer's giant pentagram in front of the hotel gave you a sense of comfort and protection. You felt him shift slightly, he pulled the blanket away from your arm and held it up lightly to inspect the burn that you had nearly forgotten about. His hands flinched for a moment, letting out a quiet hiss. He could've simply snapped his fingers or waited for your demonic body to heal itself, but instead he lightly ran his thumb across the entirety of the wound. As he pressed into your arm, you noticed the burn mark simply disapear behind his hands. You let out a satisified hum. It was always so interesting to see him use his powers, you rarely got to see him in action.

"I think - to be redeemed, you have to accept it. To be absolutely sure it's what you want. That's what angel thinks, at least." You wanted to ask why he was out of his room at three in the morning, getting drunk and why he was avoiding you for days. But you knew why.

"I still don't really know, Lucifer. I don't know what I want.. but I need you right now. I can't lose you because of t-this.." You admitted, your voice cracking slightly at your own words.

You fretted this conversation. You worried about how he would react to any answer that wasn't I'm staying with you forever! Forget redemption!

As your breath began to pick up, you watched lucifer stand, his back facing you for a moment. It made your heart drop, rushing to the conclusion that he'd leave you there alone. To your surpise, he makes a smooth motion of turning to sit in front of you on the ground, holding gently onto your calf that he pulled from the blanket. You jumped at the small touch. Turning beat red, your mind inappropriately jumped to conclusions.

"U-Uhm - Lucifer.." you called out his name as if you had any idea what to say in this moment, with him at your knees holding you so tenderly.

"You've done so much for me, love." He planted a small kiss right below your knee. "I promise I'll do anything in my power to keep you happy and safe while you're in Hell." He paused in between words, to move his small kisses up your leg." No matter how long that will be."

He's much bolder with drinks, you thought. That aside, you couldn't help but feel small tears well up in your eyes, a combination of relief and embarrasment washing over you. "Really..?" You asked so quietly, it was as if you were still worried about the answer.

He nodded with a sleepy smile, resting his head on your knee. In need of any type of comfort, you carefuly reached for his head, brushing your fingers through his dishoveled locks. He shut his eyes, letting out a sweet purr at every touch. What a strange effect he had on you. Your heart was racing, yet its mever felt lighter. Your mind, still full of dreaded thoughts, only occupied his relaxed expression in this moment. Your face was red with embarrassment of this treatment, but you were ready to beg him to keep touching you this way.

You placed your finger under Lucifer's chin and guided him upwards, making him stretch to his knees and place both his hands on either side of you. You hesitated in front of his lips for a moment. His breath was so steady, and feeling the pulse through his throat, his heart seemed to beat much slower than yours in this moment. You gulped, more nervous than before, before meeting his lips with yours. Your kiss was tender, yet it hinted at a longing for something more. He decided to take the lead, compared to last time, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks and wipe any of the wet streaks that had stained your skin previously.

Tilting his head to invite himself into your mouth, your breath hitched at the energy he seemed to eminate. He stands for a moment, then places a knee beside you, moving his hands to either side of you and caging you in by holding onto the back of the bench. This upper hand that he suddenly had made you squirm a bit, letting out a nervous yelp into his lips. You felt his smile at the sound of your voice, making you turn impossibly red. After pulling away for air that you didnt realize you needed until then, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a sweet hum.

As he went back in for more, the breath that hit your lips reaked of alcohol. That was enough to snap you back into reality. As he reached down, you planted your hands firmly on his chest, a serious intent, even with your eyes being glazed over as much as they were. "Come to bed with me, Luci. Just to sleep, alright? It's been a long night." You said softly, running your hands up and down his curves despite your intentions of not taking advantage of him any more than you've already done. You felt his skin crawl, his breath finally speeding a bit, a more nervous side of him that you were used to coming out. Maybe it was the idea of sleeping beside you, or him overthinking the invitation. Or maybe the newfound nickname was just too much for his drunken mind to handle. He quickly nods, making you pull the blanket back up around your shoulders and lead Lucifer back inside.

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You take him into his bedroom, which you've rarily seen since you moved to the hotel. It wasnt as large and regal as the one in his previous residency, but it still was much grander compared to yours. His colour scheme matched the rest if the hotel, rich reds and purples. Most of the room was filled with the bed that sat on a slightly elevated platform and hit the cieling with a canopy that adorned silky drapes. A bed truly fit for a king, was unmade and unkept. Blankets were thrown about and the pillows were scattered in various places. The room was slightly cluttered, a few stray ducks that you recognized from his office making their way into his room like muddy footprints.

Lucifer stumbled his way into his room, immediately pulling his shirt off over his head, letting out a groan and letting his body cool down as he started to remove his boots. You couldn't help but stare, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. You turned your body to the side, covering your eyes with the side of your hand. You manuevered your way around him and plopped onto the edge of the bed. You nearly sunk in with how plush the blanketing and mattress was. Still keeping your head lowered to avoid peeking, you curled up into your own blanket.

Feeling the mattress barely shift, you quicklly looked up to see Lucifer crawling his way towards the head of the bed. He barely changed, just managing to throw on a more casual pair of pants that you recognized seeing on the floor when you first walked in. His still bare chest left you abolutely flustered. His porcelain skin had shifted to a pink hue where he had gotten too cold. He immediately pulled his large blankets over his body and relaxed to the point where you assumed he had fallen asleep immediately. You listened to his steady breath for a moment, a comfortable silence in your mind, then rose to your feet, ready to shuffle out of the room.

"Noo, come back - " he groaned. It wasnt intimate or distressed, he sounded like a damned child. You rolled your eyes, unconciously smiling and crawling a comfortable distance from him on the other side of the bed, an easy task considering the size of it. You thought it best to keep your hands to yourself, so you curled up into the blankets with a comfortable wiggle to situate yourself.

Lucifer slightly opened his half lidded eyes, seeing you coccooned in his blankets, nuzzling your head into his pillows. He would pray for this to be the last and first thing he saw everyday. He closed the distance, pulling you into his chest and intertwining your legs in an attempt to be closer. His skin was incredibly soft, smooth and still warm to the touch under your cold hands that snaked around his waist. You felt him nuzzling your head, taking in a deep breath and resting his chin atop it. How was he so calm right now? This is a completely different side of Lucifer that you've yet to see. And certainly werent expecting to see any time soon.

This is fine. You'll wait until he's in a deeper sleep and leave before anyone else wakes up! Easy peasy. You just wanted him to get to bed after all.

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[sh1-n0bu]

Omg hello fellow lumine main!

I don't know if you watched the recent Xiao teaser but i got inspired by it so if it's okay with you can you write an angsty scenario about this:

After fighting with the "evil" Xiao, Xiao feels extremely tired and after walking for a while he bumps into you in a deserted field he then confuses/ hallucinates as if you are his evil self so he starts choking you(?) tries to attack you(?) And no matter what you say your words doesn't reach his ears and he snaps out of it only when Zhongli calls his name when he happened to be passing by

Hope this is not too specific! Feel free to change any part that you don't like and it could end with whatever genre you want whether it's angst or angst with fluff!! Thank you and please ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<33

✿ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙖 ✿

characters: xiao x nb!reader

warnings: angst, slight spoilers to xiao’s backstory, hurt/no comfort, fighting, descriptions of blood and canon violence, confession, big ouchies, major character death

notes: just wanna add that the reader doesn’t have a vision! since you didn’t specify the reader’s gender, i went with the “you” pronouns thing. also hiii❗️fellow lumine main❗️(ps: i wanted it to be different but my mitski’s playlist hurt me)

karmic debt is something that all yakshas bear in their lifetime until their timely demise. it is a collection of their evil deeds, of slaying demons, of taking the life of a corrupted being. of tainting one’s hand with blood whether that blood was already tainted or not.

out of five yakshas that guarded liyue and kept the land of any evil, three had died. minds corrupted by their own karmic debts, hearts shattered by the ones they once used to call a family, bodies torn apart, leaving behind only ashes with nothing to bury and reminisce about in the future. while one had disappeared without a trace.

out of five, only one remains.

and that one would sooner or later fall into his own karmic debt as well. it was only a matter of time. however, there was a small glimmer of hope in the yaksha’s tainted heart. a small glimmer in the shape of you.

sweet, loving you in all your glory who first met the legend of a being when he protected you from a mitachurl. kind, gentle you who thanked him later at the wangshu inn with a plate of hand-made almond tofu with a small offering at the side. thoughtful you who kept appearing every once in a while at the balcony, talking out loud to him about your day, your latest travels and business trades, knowing full well he was listening.

passionate you who gleefully accepted him with open arms when he first decided to sit beside you to hear about your day. understanding you who kept your distance when he warned you of his karmic debt, respectful of his wishes.

and the idiotic clumsy you who would sometimes trip over on the way up the stairs. who would smile at him with the same smile, calling out his name with a scratched hand or forehead. who would brush it off as something small and mediocre.

but the yaksha hated that you would always say your injuries are mediocre and “nothing to worry about”.

of course he would worry. you were one of the few people in his life that he held dear in his heart. one of the few who accepted him, karmic debt, dirty hands, tainted heart and all. the only one… he ended up falling in love with.

“if one day, this karmic debt that binds my soul becomes too much and i no longer can tell the difference between friend or a foe, call upon mister zhongli or the traveler. they’ll get rid of me before i can harm anyone” was something that the lonely yaksha would remind you often.

“it’s fine. that won’t ever happen” you would console him, hands weaving a flower crown together from the qingxin flowers he picked up for you.

“because i’ll be there to knock some sense into you” was your sweet promise as you would place the flower crown atop his head with a smile.

he always found it meaningless that you would weave the flowers into something as useless as a flower crown. but he couldn’t bring himself to ever take it off or throw it away, even after the flowers have dried up and he would pick up the fallen petals, storing them in a glass. he loved how even in death, without nourishments, the petals would continue to keep their beauty.

perhaps that’s why he always brought you flower bouquets back. ones made from random flowers. sweet flowers, glaze lilies, qingxin, silk flowers — he always brings back a flower for you whenever you visit. and on certain days when he feels an odd emotion gripping his heart, unable to tear his gaze away from you as you look at the setting sun, his gloved hand would slowly reach out, tucking one of the flowers behind your ear.

“pretty…” the lonely immortal would whisper without notice. only when you glance at him with a smile, would the yaksha realize what he had done, turn beet red and teleport away. too shy to confront his feelings, too conflicted to stay beside you, too afraid of your mortality.

there are so many times when xiao fears for your mortality.

the times when he feels his karma gripping his heart. hand clutching his jade spear tight to the point he fears he would break the weapon. blurry figures in his sight, muffled voices in his ears, an annoying high pitched ringing in his head.

it was just supposed to be another night. another night of keeping liyue safe. another night of banishing demons and abyss mages, mitachurls, what nots.

and yet it drained him so greatly. when was the last time he had ever felt this exhausted? down right almost collapsing right then and there in the fields of liyue? muscles straining, dragging his feet, vision blurry — the yaksha was exhausted.

amidst the chaos of the voices screeching in his head, demanding more blood, more death and sacrifices, xiao finds himself staring back at a familiar mask. his own mask. himself. or what kind of a twisted joke of himself it was.

their speed was evenly matched. spear swings and thrusts sharp, aimed at his weakest parts, the same feeling of adrenaline pumping as he fights against his own self. with some sort of blind luck or fate, the yaksha manages to make his other self kneel. a single plummet of his jade spear to the heart was all it took for the illusion to disappear.

this was a tiring night. xiao just wanted to go back to wangshu inn and collapse in your arms. you always had a soothing presence that quelled the karma in him.

“xiao?” a voice sounds from behind him. turning back to look at the person who spoke the immortal’s name, he finds himself growing enraged. another look alike of himself.

this was getting tiring.

and yet when the yaksha slipped on his mask and attacked, something was weird. this illusion was slower, weaker, never attacking back and he would almost daresay, felt wrong to fight against.

it didn’t took long for the seasoned fighter to leave a nasty cut on the illusion’s side, almost plunging his spear through their ribcage. he’d just have to try a bit harder then.

xiao wanted nothing more than to go back to you. to feel your arms around him. to feel your hands run through his hair, rambling on about your day or just simply choosing to stay quiet. either way, the lonely immortal loved it. he wanted to go back to you. to your loving embrace. sweet smiles. little nods when he whispered about somethings he wanted.

xiao just wanted to be with you.

just your presence alone was enough for him. he would savor the warmth your skin excludes as he sits beside you on the balcony. cherish every little moment you would spend with him. treasure the small gifts and the almond tofu you would make for him.

and yet why was it that such a familiar hand was touching his own gloved one when he finally drove his jade spear through the illusion’s chest.

it was only then the illuminated bird noticed.

there was no second ‘illusion’. there was no need to fight against the voice that called out to him. for it was you. for it was the one person he cherished the most. for it was his beloved that was now bleeding out, blood tainting the tips of his spear, warm hand covering his own gloved one. warmth that was so quickly fading away.

his beloved… that he killed.

taking his spear out, xiao moved quickly to catch your falling body. the warmth that your hug gives him, the comfort he feels now being replaced by the warmth of your blood.

“no. no no no no, h-hang on. i’ll get you to liyue harbor” what was he saying? it was no use. he had already pierced your heart straight through, there was no hope for you. but xiao wanted there to be one. xiao wanted you to stay alive so he can confess to you. xiao wanted you to live, wanted to taste your hand made almond tofu again, wanted to put flowers in your hair.

xiao wanted to spend his tomorrows with you.

“don’t. we both know i won’t make it” your voice calls out. weak, hoarse, tired. you were bleeding. eyes dull, losing life, losing it’s shine. you were dying and it was all his fault.

“please… please don’t go” the yaksha didn’t knew he was crying until his tears landed on your face. even when bleeding out, even when dying, you still smiled. and by the archons, you were still beautiful even as you lay dying in his arms.

“please don’t go. i love you too much to let you go…” the yaksha sniffled, sobs coming out as he holds you in his arms.

it was just like how you two would lay on the rooftops of wangshu inn. watching the stars, the cloud move by, pointing out the shapes as you two enjoy each other’s presence.

except the warmth that came from your body was now the warmth of your blood gushing out, staining his clothes. the smile you used to give him now dead, stoic, almost like a puppet’s forced smile. the bright shine of life that was once in your perfect [color], dull like a matted blood.

“i wanted to spend my tomorrows with you…”