the virtuoso

. ✦ ݁ ˖ ZAI, nineteen, love and deepspace sideblog for drabbles, fics, headcanons, and whatever thoughts i have <3, any pronouns, desi, sylus main but i adore all of them, sfw + nsfw, minors dni.

inbox open! i take requests, please refer to the rules before sending an ask

masterlist | my ao3 | rules | main blog @jabberpool for mutuals

suggestive, making out, mc vaguely mentioned | crossposted to ao3

Caleb could break this man and he would dissolve with a grin on his face. This fiend would take the force of gravity in stride, and let matter collapse in on itself.

happy pride month! it's june here anyways. im going to be keeping a drabble/oneshot collection for li x li fics + i'm open to any suggestions and requests :ppp

“You spoiled her rotten before I even got the chance.” Sylus’ mouth plants itself onto his with nothing short of contending passion.

Caleb holds the zeal of something far larger than himself. But not the heart. Sylus sees right through him. Caleb Xia’s heart is shrewd, a twisted little thing. Sylus sees what calls this broken machine to action. 

What sputters the little bleeds that pour out of that aching organ. His first love and the commander of his final death. A tragedy indeed.

Caleb gasps, “Just doing my duty.” He welcomes the onslaught. Embraces the flame of competition—soul and root battling for what they claim is theirs. It’s a rightful change of pace, Caleb thinks. No gutting worry in the back of his head to be careful—no pit in his stomach.

He could break this man and he would dissolve with a grin on his face. This fiend would take the force of gravity in stride, and let matter collapse in on itself.

“Is there a drill sergeant in there?” Sylus chuckles the question in his break for air, but the flick of a finger against his forehead holds another weight. “Your mind’s running a regiment.” The scrunch of Caleb’s nose pokes at the mirth in Sylus’ voice.

“And yours is invasive.” Caleb barely manages to get the words out before he decides the oxygen isn’t worth it and latches his teeth to Sylus’ bottom lip.

There’s no balance here, not a twirl of serenity or a dance on the line of equilibrium. Here they are lopsided and jagged, biting hard and kissing harder. Fang clicks against fang, shackled chains are pulled taut and desire is caught in a violent flurry.

Here, fate cannot touch Sylus’ heart.