lalala~~

maybe this is a nxx polycule fic set after he reunited with rosa (he hasnt confessed to her yet and she wants him to Get Out More And Meet New People) but BEFORE the nxx investigation team formally meets and

the only people he swipes right on are artem, vyn, and marius

artem has endearingly terrible pictures of himself (selfies he looked forced into taking, blurry faraway photos of his person, one photo where his face is not even in it it's just his pajama-covered legs lounged in front of a home theater setup) but artem's earnest answers to the profile prompts intrigue him, how he says he loves movies and talking about them, how he admits hes terrible at crafts but he can cook a great dinner

vyn is Gorgeous in his photos in an ethereal way that has luke almost swiping left before reading his profile simply because luke thinks vyn is out of his league. but then vyn's profile is written like. he writes like. like a victorian vampire. a victorian vampire looking for Love. "Kindly refrain from swiping right on me if you are only looking for a fleeting dalliance. I am searching for a genuine connection with someone who can not only keep up with me but can push me further". and luke, who has never backed down from a challenge, swipes right

marius is hilarious because all his photos are mirror selfies where he looks like an absolute FUCKBOY and luke is milliseconds from swiping left until he gets to the last picture and it's a gorgeous photo of marius at a painting easel looking happy and vibrant in such an alluring way. this makes luke actually read his profile and it is. frustratingly minimalist and even a tad bitter "tbh i dont have high hopes for this app but maybe you can prove me wrong?" and luke does have to admit that marius is his Type, in terms of looks, so he goes for it

luke gets to chatting with all three of them and the conversations are BANGIN' theyre SO GOOD luke is starting to catch feelings from MERE CHATS and hes wondering when he can take each one of them out for a date to check for chemistry IRL but before he can do that he---

---gets tasked to go join this "nxx investigation team" by the nsb and he walks in and

oh no

it's

all of his matches on the dating app

I drew this because the pronunciation of "520" in Chinese sounds similar to "I love you."

(+white bg under the cut)

There's you, and there's your sibling, and sometimes you get along, and sometimes you don't. If you're close enough in age there's this… hyperspecific connect. You go to school together. You come back. You share a space with your friends. You leave, outgrow it. You share a space with parents. You leave it. You're always with your sibling, though. Sometimes there's no space. Sometimes you share a room. Sometimes you grow up and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you worry about something they're yet too young for. Or too old for. When you disappear and don't speak to anyone for weeks because you just need a break, your sibling is exempt. You ask them if they finished their assignments and they send a twelve second voicemail. It's silence for ten seconds and in the final two they whisper “cheese” and go offline. They're not a different person. They're just your sibling. You don't tell them everything about you. You don't have to. They don't have to know. They beg and beg for a bit of your french toast when they didn't do jack to help you make it and you say sure, I'll give you this tiny corner. But you have to do the dishes. You end up giving them a bit more anyway because they make puppy eyes at you. You remember being too young to understand why they always needed you but being there anyway. You remember no one raising them so you do it yourself. You yell and mess up with every step but there's nothing but love. I don't know. I can't explain it. If they asked me for a heart on a whim I'd tear out mine with my nails. Only for them. Parents die and friends move away and you move around but you have siblings. 

I think I've done a poor job of explaining it- but Xiao was the one who'd have eyed the toast without asking, I think, and one of his siblings would've given him a corner. “You have to polish my weapon in return, though!”

Did he ever wake up to Indarius’ screams? When the Karma got so bad and she feared everything? Did she try to overcome it? Did he see it? What if she screamed and he flew into her room? What if he watched her cry and begged the skies for an enemy he could kill, instead of this thing, this Karma, that was inside of her? That he could do nothing about? Did he despair? What if she looked at him as though it was her he was going to kill, what then? What if she tore his heart to pieces just by flinching away. What if he remembered eyeing her toast and her sniggering and giving him a tiny corner. She didn't even put any honey on it. “You have to polish my weapon in return, though!”

What if she saw him fly into the room and saw an enemy, juxtaposed over her brother. Her brother. What if she didn't remember that piece of toast. What if it wasn't that important a memory. What if a sweeter memory was of him sitting on a rock staring out at the stars, what then? What if it was a moment that passed him by and he'd never remember but what if Alatus looked at the stars once? Turned his face upwards and sat there illuminated by the moonlight? What if she wished she could keep him that way in amber forever? What if she didn't remember this memory either, because Alatus is before her, wings splayed and spear in hand and reaching for her? How could he become the enemy? How could he hurt her? What if she screamed for him and begged him to save her from himself?

“Who raised you?” Menogias maybe huffed once. “Were you raised in a barn?”

Maybe he'd realise no one raised Xiao, and quietly swear to do so himself. “Use these utensils. Why don't you find me funny?” Maybe Xiao looked at him, face carefully schooled into neutrality. What does this guy want from him? Why is he continuously dissatisfied with whatever Xiao does?

Why does this punk avoid me? Menogias maybe wondered. I'm trying to help. I'm just trying to help.

Maybe it took years, but maybe they thought they had forever, once. Maybe Menogias caught him clutching his chest and retching and crying and asked him what was wrong. Maybe there were no words either could have said, so he just stayed close. Maybe he got him new clothes. Maybe when Xiao got back Menogias threw out all of the old ones, and any goodwill he earned vanished in an instant. Unfitting and unflattering and undignified and un. But maybe they were his and Menogias threw them out. Maybe Xiao spoke to him in a fury, just once, genuine rage. They were his. Maybe Menogias understood, finally understood. The need to have something that was his. Maybe he laughed and laughed and Xiao grew angrier and angrier and maybe Menogias told him with sincere satisfaction- “you're finally telling me how you feel. Good job.” Maybe he gave the clothes back. Maybe Xiao gave Menogias a chance and wore what was made for him. Fitting and flattering and dignified and comfortable and nothing un. Tailored for him. For Alatus, not General Alatus. Because Menogias understood. Maybe he remembered Menogias quietly teaching him court etiquette when he didn't have to at all. Maybe when stone spires pierced Bonanus’ heart and tore it out with enough force to splatter godly blood all over Menogias’ aristocratic face, he remembered his brother quietly staying awake for days on end. Stitching together new clothes and a new understanding and a new life that he never even had to ask for. 

What if sweet, gentle Bonanus took one look at him and realised she had to love him. She had to, you see, because life without love is misery, and everyone needs a little, and this boy knows only his master's orders and his master's whims and his master's punishments. She didn't have to and it didn't happen in a day or a week or a month but she chose. What if she thought he needed love and what if she never thought she needed it too. What if he never reciprocated the caresses in his hair and piling of food onto his plate and introducing him to her friends and when he felt silent, giving him space. What if she was struck in battle one day and lay wondering if he loved her. What if Xiao saw his sister get struck down by an enemy he had no sympathy for in that moment. What if all humanity left him and his opponent, just for that moment. What if he left his post to fly at that wretched bastard because that was his sister, and just the day before she insisted he eat something nasty. He didn't know what was in it and he doubted she knew either but he remembered them gagging and retching and spitting it onto the grass outside and she laughed and laughed and cried “I've never seen you make that face before!” 

What if he abandoned his post- what if he thought his new master just as firm as his old. What if he left battle to bring his sister a medic. What if he quietly took whatever punishment was doled to him. What if she fought his master and asked furiously to be punished instead. What if Bosacius drew on him in his sleep and she laughed as she wiped it off because he nearly walked into the Guili Assembly with an inked face. What if he saw her cough blood and stare at Menogias with despair. Her heart a few inches from her torn chest. What if this time, Xiao came too late. What if he thought I've seen you make that face before. Just once, millennia ago. 

What if- where do I even start with Bosacius? Bosacius who remembered every tiny thing about Xiao? Bosacius, his Marshall, his brother, his brother. What has Bosacius not done for him? For all of them? Four arms for his four siblings. His. To bear the weight of the oldest for a bunch whose lives were torn asunder by a war none have a stake in. Bosacius raised them, loved them, led them. Who raised Bosacius? Who did Bosacius pray to? Did Xiao catch him sitting quietly alone, wondering how to do- everything? How do you teach something you never learned? How do you serve out of an empty basket? But he did. 

After Perilous Trail, Xiao stands quietly behind Pervases’ temple. The Chasm yielded closure. The Chasm yielded a rock. Did Xiao wish the Chasm yielded his brother instead? When it callously imitated his dead brother's arms- when he thought for a moment that it was Bosacius- did he want to run right into them? He fell right in, after all. He shut his eyes and fell right back in.  

wanderer's whole story revolves around how he has too much emotion, and how he feels too much.

he is doomed to fall in love.

he will deny it, over and over and over again. but he will be plagued by the feeling no matter what. Its like his very own curse. he will forever ache until he fully accepts that he's in love and has to go about his round about way of confessing it or just simply acknowledging it within himself.

but he is definitely be the type to fall in love.

It doesnt even have to be someone important or special, it could literally be a random in the akademiya that caught his eye one day bc they were being gentle with the birds outside - but i definitely see him falling for someone.

he wont say it or show it, but trust, it will kill him inside if he doesn't.

wanderer feels love just as hes felt heartbreak after each of his betrayals. though he doesnt want to fall in love in spite of his past, he will.

in which you lose your mind over the genshin impact x west lake hangzhou collab outfit !! xiao x gn!reader, 1.8k words, fluff. just the slightest bit suggestive at the very end <3

If you'd known what dire straits you'd be put into the very instant you stepped into your home, you'd never have returned.

Or perhaps you would have torn through the fabric of time and the barrier that was the very sky to ask the Shade of Time to please freeze it– to halt the world while you buried your face in your palms and screamed yourself hoarse. While you took a moment to somersault around the object of your simultaneous distress and desire. While you stared and stared and stared. While you composed a hundred sonnets and a thousand poems for your muse that would in time set your mind ablaze in the very second stepped indoors.

After all– this was a blessing that was sprung upon you with almost cruel surprise. 

You are used to seeing your Xiao in his usual garments and the guards he wears for battle. And when he is home, you are used to seeing him allow himself the quiet comfort of loose trousers and soft, plain placket shirts in mild colours that make sunlight bounce off of them into the amber of his eyes, making them shine teals and pinks and blues along with their usual gold.

Time, patience and consistent adoration have blessed you by bestowing this particular honour upon you– of seeing him at his usual, and seeing him at his mundane.

Nothing, however, prepared you for this.