#↳ lumie talks! ༉‧₊

[ofdreamsnwishes]

if seunghan is on the full version of siren, imma write a full fic of him, trust

[thereisabearonmyceiling]

first (bussiness) meeting

[neurotypical-sonic]

Since sonic has like lots of gender hcs wuld it be safe to say that Sonic is their gender?

It'd be pretty dope I think

sorry this reminded me of this picture

ADD SONIC GENDER TO THE LIST

but yeah honestly I can get behind that!! love the idea that he's his own self contained gender! It makes sense to me

[nuumbie]

BRIGHT STAR

Prompt: And so live—ever or else swoon to death. Dain, what does that strand of hair mean to you? Someone you must kill? Or an object of your penitence?

Author’s Note: The Road Not Taken Trailer stuck with me. Abyss Prince/Princess ! Reader. Something overtook me while writing this… I wrote this so I’ve officially have proof of writing for all three fandoms this blog writes for… but at what cost… ( my sanity )

Trigger Warnings: Depression and not being mentally good is pretty heavy handed, the idea of “missing” someone, grief and loss, just generally upsetting mental concepts. And of course. Genshin Spoilers…

Codependency, babes!

Cursed to live as an immortal. His life no longer belonged to only him. For every life which could no longer speak. He would live in their place. Until his body had decayed. Until he could no longer move. Until he had lost all vigor and passion to try.

That day would never come. Even now. He’s never lost focus from his dream.

When he meets you all he's managed to save is the sky.

The sky to the world which has taken everything from him. He wondered if his brethren would be happy to continue the shared existence of this world even after they’re gone. To care for the soil which they once lived. The same world that had taken everything from him was once his home. For every beauty, there was a sadness. He was still preserving its existence. Because. If he hadn’t there would be nothing left of him.

Yes, he was a traveler back then — directionless and without a purpose. Without meaning. A wanderer without a home to return to. Only memories.

Such different lives. Yet you met at the same road at the same time. Khaenri'a Land. He remembers the destruction, the screaming, all the lives lost while he watched helpless.

You share those memories. Why was it. That fate chose to let you both live? Was it destiny’s cruel game? That you both found yourselves in the same world with the same matching wounds.

He wonders when you changed paths?

The world moves on while you both stand there. Firmly rooted in that place and time. Perhaps, he could have stayed there forever.

He remembers— you’re the one who broke the silence. The memory grows farther and farther. But his time with you is something he’s yet to let go. He holds onto it. The memory is similar. It brings him comfort and pain. That’s why it’s meaningful.

“The Gods.” you walk next to him, you’ve already seen to found your answer as you tilt your head up towards him. You’re the first pair of eyes in a long time who’s peered into him to acknowledge his existence. To stare at him. To see him. He hasn’t communicated in awhile. He can’t remember how long. So, it’s somewhat affirming to have someone stare at him. To see him. “Are the worst.”

He stares out at the fallen rubble before meeting your gaze. There’s a burning light behind your eyes. Something that rivals the force of the sky. “They are.”

“The Gods look down at the people all the same, yet they meddle with their lives and twist them so.” you laugh. “It’s just not fair. Why is it out of my control?”

Dainsleif’s eyes catch the bodies underneath the rubble, crushed fingers grasping for things they’ll never reach. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re traveling too, right? I know you are.” You glance over the fallen wreckage as if that’s proof enough that he’s lost. “I’m a traveler too… I’m looking for my sibling.”

He can hear the yearning in your tone. You have faith unlike him. You still have a chance.

Your voice says you believe that so firmly with all of your heart. Dainsleif glances at the gathered proof there’s nothing left for him at his feet.

“…”

“Come with me.” You finally say. “Travel with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m lonely.” Is your only reply. You don’t look at him. A life-long regret. He’ll never have gotten to known what you were thinking.“You seemed lonely, too.”

Did he?

He hadn’t noticed. He hasn’t seen his own face in a long time. At that time — it felt so simple. There wasn’t truly any deep, meaningful, reason to accept your request. He could have easily parted ways there. What difference would that have made on your journey?

But… perhaps he was lonely. For he had so far to walk. And he had nothing else to do but to live.

“500 mora.”

“Huh?” You squint your eyes somewhat baffled by how quick of a response he shoots ought. “I— that’s too cheap. Why? Is this a weekly payment or something?”

“In a way it is.” He sighs while turning his back and already beginning to walk. “500 mora every week.”

“It should around as much money needed to buy the ingredients for sticky honey roast.”

You give him the stink eye.

But you’re lonely enough to begrudgingly take the mora out into his hands. You make a point to showcase your discontent as you scrounge through your wallet. You don’t have very much money on you at all.

But you pay the fare so you both go on a journey.

People change lives. You’ve changed the impact of his.

-

Your first stop is Mondstadt. He’s buying the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. He has a bit extra change to spare. Mondstadt’s prices are cheap.

It’ll get harder to save when you reach the other nations. So, it’s better to save up now.

He realizes you’ve escaped his side a little too late. He looks around— when he isn’t looking you’re already a distance away from him. Even though you’re the one who asked him to walk this path with you. You’re always walking ahead or too far behind.

You’re staring at the Mondstadt Fountain. In hindsight. It’s a very pretty fountain. Simple but effective. But you’re staring at the water a bit too closely. He walks up from behind you and stares at his own reflection which looks back at him. You’re rather enamored by your own face.

You both do look strange in comparison to the locals. People have been giving you both odd-stares. He makes a face at the water and tries to smile.

He doesn’t look very accommodating nor welcoming at all. His smile drops rather quickly when it looks strange on his face. Unnatural.

Dainsleif is secretly glad that your eyes are always directed everywhere but him.

Glancing towards you. You don’t look at the water like it’s a reflection of yourself but someone else looking back at you.

You finally notice his staring though it’s far too late. You jump up a little — but you pretend like you weren’t so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him sneak up on you. Like always. He doesn’t tell you he knows. You’ve fallen into a pattern like that.

“Do you have a coin?” You glance at him and try to change topics quickly while holding out your palm. “Dain.“

“Ah.” He looks at you and blinks as he realizes what’s going through your head. Though, he wonders if it’s something else. You were staring at your own face. “Oh… that is a Mondstadt Custom. Making wishes… I see. Are you curious? Then…”

He takes out the coin. The leftovers. It’s a meaningless gesture. But, you stare at him like it’s what matters most in this world. So he indulges in you.

The borough keeper does not have anything to wish for. He realizes rather quickly. He glances down at the coin in all its glory. And there is nothing in the world he can realistically get that he truly wants.

His hand grows a little shaky at that thought. Nothing to wish for. So he instead directs it towards you and drops it into the palms of your hand like it’s precious.

“You should do it, then.” His voice is impassive as usual. “You’re the one who has a wish. So, why should I?”

Somewhat dumbly you take the coin in your shaky palms as he gives it to you. “Huh? Seriously…?”

“Fine… I guess I will then…”

You think— it doesn’t take that long. The coin hits the water with a somewhat disappointing ‘thump’.

Not nearly as long. You’ve already have your mind up. You glance at the water. “I’ll have to make it come true myself in the end. I’m still going to work as hard.”

“Then, what’s the point of the wish?” Dainsleif asks.

“It’s insurance.” You sigh. “It’s comforting. You seriously have no trace of romance in your heart.”

“What did you wish for?” Dainsleif looks at the coin sunken at the bottom of the fountain. ( It will be gone when he comes back to reflect on the memories. A world which people resort to stealing wish money from wells. )

“If I say it then it won’t come true. You’re meant to keep it a secret, Dain. That’s how wishes work.”

Is that so?

He knows what you wished for. But he doesn’t say it.

Some things are better kept never never said.

-

He's growing older.

You travel to a Liyuan Village, Quingce. It's the perfect day. You’ve both arrived at perfect timing. They’re holding a small festival to celebrate the living at the time with bright lights and fireworks in the sky. Momentous and bright.

The joy they experience is vibrant. Savory smells wafting through the hair. A memory which will be long-lived in each villager’s mind. In comparison. The both of you stand out. Throughout the laughter, the joy, you both sit there in relative silence alone together. Two unhappy people painted against a happy scene.

The sky being dyed in such unnatural colors reminds him of the day the sky was bathed red. Do you see the same sky as him when you stare up at such flashing lights, too?

You're whispering. Do you expect him not to hear? The sound of the fireworks is loud. Each with a loud snapping pop. He wouldn't expect you to be paying attention to him instead of the loud bursts of flashing lights. So he assumes you’d have the same line of thought. Somehow, Dainsleif’s eyes always find his way to you.

"We don't belong in this world." Are the words that leave your mouth. He doesn't respond. You repeat it quieter. "We don't belong here."

You’re looking at the children who dance among the bright stars together. He notices a pair of children holding the other’s hand tightly.

You’re curled up in fetal position. Your knees pressed against your chest. It looks painful.

l. You stand at a ten foot distance to him.

You don’t say anything else and continue to watch the fireworks. Not once does a smile ever cross your face.

When you walk back to your hotel room your voice is weak and you’re clutching tightly to your own shirt.

“Dain.” You make conversation. “Do you think we could be happy?”

He doesn’t know.

“There’s still a long way ahead. Don’t lose hope.”

“I know I can’t.” You sigh. “I know that.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.” You look outside your fingers brushing against the glass of the window against the painted sky and the people packing up. “They don’t know a thing.”

“It’s just unfair.” You laugh. “Why can’t I live like that?”

“But that’s how it is.”

“…”

There’s a silence which lasts only a little. It seems you don’t wish to continue down this line of thought. You give.

“Guess so.” Your eyes meet his and you smile sheepishly. “I’m glad I know you. I’m not alone.”

But you are. That’s why you asked. Because you felt there was nobody who could understand.

And, perhaps, he still doesn’t know you either. No. He’s sure he doesn’t.

When you bring a topic up. It’s very likely you never bring it up again.

He doesn’t usher it out of you. The next morning you wave the children and all the adults goodbye wishing them happy lives. They’re kind and wish him and you both the very same.

They’re younger than you both yet you’ll both grow to outlive them. You’re fundamentally different. He will never be able to understand them.

Dainsleif presumes that’s the same case with the two of you as well.

-

In Inazuma you take a quick resting stop before you reach the grand island You plan on camping that night among the dangerous but beautiful land. You seem enraptured that night. You’ve gone into the slow flowing river. It seemed clear. So he hadn’t stopped you from dipping your feet.

You reach your hands towards the bright sky and the stars above.

You’re in a far off place. He wonders if he could reach you if he had actually tried.

He doesn’t bother.

Dainsleif sits there and watches your distant figure watch the stars.

He watches after you. Some days. Just bystander in your life.

You stay like that for awhile before you finally return to him. You’re holding your shoes in your hand— you drop them before awkwardly plopping yourself next to him.

“They told me if I was ever lost. All I needed to do was look up to the stars because we’d be looking up at the same sky.”

"I wonder what they'd think if they saw it. The stars are beautiful here. Even though the sky itself is the cause of all my problems. I still love the stars. This place won’t ruin it for me.”

“Dain, what do you think?”

You’re not really asking him.

“It’s nice.” He responds. “I think they’re beautiful, too.”

You rarely talk about yourself he notices. You rarely think about yourself. About this sibling he doesn’t know. About their interests and likes.

“Do you like it?” He asks gentler than he intends.

“I do. But it hurts. Does that make sense, Dain?”

“It does.” He replies and he hopes that gives you some ounce of peace.

You smile a little. He wishes it could last.

You’re someplace far away. He looks down at you and making a move for the first time he offers you his hand.

You take it and fall asleep against his shoulder.

He clings to your warmth and holds you closely thinking little of it.

When he wakes up you’re already gone.

You revert back to your normal and neither of you bring it up. But even if it’s left unspoken.

It’s already been said.

-

In Sumeru while exploring the wilderness you’ve sunken to your knees. The sight of something has caught your attention.

It's rare to see you stray from your goal.

You gaze down at the white flowers for a few seconds. Most often your eyes dance around but you keep walking forward. It's very rare that something strikes you enough to linger on. To hold still for just a moment in time.

It's rare that you let anything hold you back. Each nation. You grow a little faster. A little more distant. A little ahead.

You glance up at him wordlessly as you go to kneel to clutch the flower between your palms, it's rare that you do things just like this. Ask him to speak up on the matter and info-dump so you can understand the world better. It's the little conversation you both have.

“Dain, what is this?”

"It's a flower native to Kharenri'ah." His heart winces a little at the word. It appears that the wound has not mended itself. It won't ever. He's made peace with that. He merely wonders when he'll learn to live with that truth. "It's called the Intreyvat. It has 2-weeks before it wilts. It's aligned with elemental energy as for why it glows. Elemental Energy isn't edible nor does it taste very good for those who've tried it. So please do not eat it."

You don't respond. So he continues with other facts assuming you're not satisfied. "It's called the wanderer's flower for it's properties which--"

"I'm not going to eat it, idiot. I'm not insane to eat flowers. You're my emergency food rations." Contradiction. He thinks that cannibalism is more insane than eating flora. But, he chocks it up to either sarcasm or a testament to your oddities. It's likely the former. Your face warmed up. Embarrassed that he’d even imply it. Melanin rushing straight to your face to the tips of your ears. you whisper, hushed, as you cradle the flower delicately in your hands. Like it can hear your argument. It can't. It’s not alive in that sense. a fact he would point out. But he knows it’s not the time for that. He opts for silence as he usually does. "They just grew these back home. My actual home. Before it got destroyed."

You have a deep longing in your eyes. All-consuming devotion. "Some things remain constant through different worlds. There's likely another you somewhere on one of the many worlds that exist."

"I saw these with my sibling when I first arrived at Teyvat. The flower were the first thing we saw. A field of them." you churn out. your grip on the flower grows tighter. it's petals crush beneath your fingers at how tight you hold it. you don't seem to notice. " All things meet similar fates. So, of course these flowers were meant to fade away in this world too."

"It’s okay. These aren’t actually my homeland’s flowers. It’s not mine.” You laugh as you let go of the flower. leaving the crushed white petals lay dirtily discarded on the floor. "It was never mine. But the sight of it regardless bought me joy."

It's left in the dirt. You stand on wobbly knees. He thinks to mention it but you have enough to worry about already.

Dainsleif knows it’s better not to linger as well. So he chases after you. At some point it changed from him walking meaninglessly.

He drifts after your footsteps. Behind you.

-

You’re always changing. Slowly, bit by bit, the person he met so long ago becomes a stranger distant in his mind. The current you is just as much of a puzzle.

Time is passing. He doesn’t keep track of how many days that have gone by. Some days blur.

When you’re at Fontaine you finally let yourself break.

It would explain why you finally go mad. The process of traveling place to place without ever stopping.

It must have been draining.

His hand curls around your face as you lay at your camp. You’re both doing an odd-job for money to travel so often from place to place.

You’ve both finished killing another hilichurl camp which stood in the way. Wiping the splattered blood from your cheek. Too little distance but you don’t seem to mind how close he is. “Is it yours or theirs?”

You don’t answer. Which does nothing to ease his worries. He goes to wipe the rest of the blood to see if you have any injuries. This isn’t like either of you. To dote on another like this. These moments are sparse few and far between in your own words until you’re at a certain breaking point — nothing more than travel companions until you need someone to catch you before you fall. That’s why you called for him.

Because you were alone. Because he was alone.

It’s transactional.

It should be, anyway. You tremble and bite your lip hard enough that it bleeds. What you have feels heavier than that.

“I don’t want to ever kill another hilichurl again.”

Ah.

“We’ll never have to kill another one again.” He tries to soothe you. “We can stop taking requests like this.”

It must be bad. You’re holding still. Barely reacting to the feather-light touch. He squeezes your face.

You react at that. Your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He lets go once he sees that’s enough to rouse you out of your own head.

“We should take a break.” He finally says. “We haven’t had one in awhile-“

“I don’t want to stop.” You reply back. “It gets worse when we stop.”

You‘ve been tired for a long time.

Wiping the rest of the blood on his cape. He doesn’t struggle. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely indifferent to the process. But he never struggles against you. So he doesn’t even budge. He just looks at you with that prey animal stare reserved for only you. “Ah.”

“My cape.” He holds the tassel and flops it around. As subdued and subpar as it is. “Isn’t a napkin.”

“We’re both dirty, now.” That brings an odd joy he’ll have to worry about later because those words are not happy. They’re sad. You should both be clean. But, there’s a certain joy to sharing your lows. You ramble as you use it to wipe your tears away as well. “Now we both need showers and…”

“…”

“Dain.” You ask quietly. “Why do you stay with me?”

Oh.

You’re not yourself. You’ll regret this conversation and feel nothing but regret about it later. He comforts you now and answers regardless because he would regret leaving you unanswered now even more.

“I care about you even if it doesn’t seem that way at times.”

You stare at him like his words are hard to believe. Your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Is it so hard to believe he cares after you’ve spent so long together? He can see the thoughts racing behind your eyes. But, what you settle on is— “You’re so stupid.”

You don’t seem entirely unhappy with his answer despite the words that you say considering you’re laughing. It’s an oddly sad laugh. A laugh which threatens on a sob.

He tries to ignore the pink color that rises to his cheeks.

“So stupid.” You cry a little harder and hug him. He caresses you and lets you cry into his chest.

He knows you wish someone else could hold you.

It isn’t the same nor will it ever live up to the real thing. But you always pretend.

-

You both never kill a Hilichurl again.

He does his best to avoid them on the roads. Whenever you see one a deep sadness falls over you. So he does his best to stifle that grief and ease that burden by avoiding every chance he has.

You haven’t asked as much questions lately since arriving at Natlan. You’ve quit speaking entirely at some points in time. Some days he wonders if you’ve forgotten to speak at all.

The light behind your eyes is a distant memory.

“Dain?”

“Why do you travel at all?”

He stares at you through a mouthful of mushroom-chicken skewers that he’s cooked. They’re burnt. He’s not very good of a cook.

You’ve never asked before. You’ve asked all sorts of questions. But never that.

“It was sort of implied at the fountain that you didn’t know… I remembered and got curious… so I asked.l

“Did you figure it out, Dain?”

…

Maybe he did.

He thinks about keeping it to himself. Holding on to that answer just this once. You’ve done the same to him.

But maybe it’s something worth saying.

No, maybe it’s something…

He just wants to admit. To say out loud. Just once.

Even though he knows you know.

“I want to see your journey to its end.”

You instantaneously groan like he’s said something embarrassing.

“I’d thought you’d answer that.” You pout with crossed arms. “When did you grow so obsessed with me?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t know why or how. He doesn’t know if he should.

“You should live for yourself.” Hypocrite. “Beyond Khaenri'ah and beyond me.”

Dainsleif sighs and…

He continues letting his judgement not get the better of him.

“I really like you.”

Time stops.

He’s a little surprised the words actually came out of his mouth. But they did.

He can’t take it back now that it’s been said. That’s how it works.

“Huh?”

He could pretend that his words had a different meaning. He could create some lie. And you would just eat it up.

But he chooses not to. Why is that?

“I like you. That’s why I wish to see it through with you. I wish to see you happy. Typically. You wish to be with the people you like happy.” He repeats. Louder. So you can’t misinterpret it or pretend you’ve heard him wrong, He chews on the mushroom skewer. Feeling his face heat up. Some days. He wished his mask covered the entirety of his face. It feels like he’s gone as crimson as the moon.

He feigns how okay he is with these words leaving his mouth. Pretends like he isn’t pouring a deep part of himself out to you. “Don’t mind where. I just wish to be by your side.”

“You’ve been my reason for awhile now.“

And he continues. A little too much. He realizes. He stops and looks at you to use as measure for how much he’s talked.

Quite a lot. You stare at him in abject horror.

“I— don’t repeat it!” You yell and look around like somebody can hear you both. There’s nobody for miles. In the end. It’s always you both alone. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You asked.” Dainsleif points out and bites down on the shame. “I answered.”

“..-!?”

“It wouldn’t work.” You stumble. “You and me—“

“It doesn’t have to be as lovers. My… current goal… the… reason I’m traveling with you… what I want most is just… to see you be okay.“

“Your terminology was confusing! It’s not my fault—“

“But if you want to entertain the idea… of… us being partners and such. I wouldn’t mind traveling with you. To see other worlds. If you could bring me.” He can’t bear to look at you. “Though, I have a task as a Borough Keeper… I…”

“You wish for me to live for myself. Is that not proof I am? Willing to find a reason to live past that role?”

“T-Travel with me…” the room grows hotter. “Wait, that’s not the point!”

“It still doesn’t work!” You yelp. “Just…”

“…”

“Maybe at the end of the road when I reunite with my...” You mumble. “I… no…”

“No… I don’t think… you… we should.”

…

“We shouldn’t.”

You don’t explain why.

Dainsleif flushes… and looks away. Understanding. He tries to be understanding.

Even if he’s not very good at it. Understanding other people. He tries to emphasize and nods his head.

“I understand… I told you. I just… wish for your happiness.”

“You shouldn’t.“

…

And you don’t elaborate. You never really do.

He doesn’t understand how bad it gets until it’s too late.

-

Because you were right.

Thinking about it now, it was an omen, a warning more than anything. You likely should have thrown him loose a long time ago.

Did you not think about that? Or was it now when everything’s finally proved that this was where your path must lead? Were you hoping that there was another option?

Was this your last choice?

Well, it’s already history. You must have known that. That’s why you were so insistent on it. To limit the heart-ache. The tragedy. If you held on even tighter. Then the pain of separation would hurt even more.

You should have never offered your hand to him at all then. But it was this journey it was knowing which made you into this, wasn’t it?

He was there to witness your unraveling. And he didn’t do a thing to stop it. He allowed it.

The sword has pierced through his stomach and severed through. He’ll survive. That’s what he was cursed to do. To eternally live and grieve until there was nothing left to lose. You know that. You aren’t actually trying to kill him. You’re sparing him and leaving him to live with this loss. And that’s even more painful.

There’s no light in your eyes. You’ve chosen the road ahead. It’s a road you cannot travel back from. You will destroy everything. And you will repeat the endless cycle of bloodshed. And then you will most likely die against the weight of the heavenly principles.

This is the second time his reason for living was entirely stolen. How fun. How grand. How sick. But he should have known, too. Even if you’re immortal as well—

The things he loved were bound to get torn from him. His life will forever be a game of give and take.

“There’s nothing else.” You glance out into the darkness. “For me to see. I’ve seen it all. And it’s driven me mad.”

“I understand now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. You’ve done your job of seeing me through to the end. And I thank you for that. You’ve been a good guide. I’ve cherished this time together.”

Like this isn’t it. As if you aren’t severing your paths entirely. You dig the sword deeply into his stomach like you’re cutting whatever has connected you both all this time to each other.

But it did matter. Everything mattered. It mattered so much to the point where you’ve come down to this. He holds the sword and tries to push it out.

You’ve detached. When was it when you pulled yourself away from him entirely? He never noticed the gap between you had grown as deep as the abyss.

“Dain.”

“You’re not joining me are you?”

“I’m not.” He responds from the floor. He chokes on his own blood. It isn’t the first. Nor will it be the last time. He can see his future from here. Because life refuses to let him live languid life. He could never agree with the tragedy you intend to cause. The world you wish to ruin— still belongs to him. “You’re right. I can’t agree. I could never agree.”

And more than that, you’re likening yourself to a monster. This path. Paved in blood. If you walk it you will be no better than them. You’re making a mistake. You’re so much more than this. And he knows. Because he was there for you for so long.

“If this is the path you plan to take. I will oppose for eternity.” He spits.

For some reason that gets you to share with him a rare smile.

The way you smile at him then still haunts his dreams.

“I knew you could do it.”

It is your hands which he trusted so which push him and led to his fall. The hands which he had done his best to have lovingly hold. It is his first betrayal.

And yet he still tries to have faith.

Your paths diverge…

But regardless of that.

You’re not out of reach.

He can still save you he thinks with grasping hands.

Is this how you’ve felt all this time? With a flickering inch of hope? Given so little yet still believing in that faint chance of reunion?

He’ll force your paths back together himself.

-

Mondstadt.

He’s begun to try to count the time.

He just measures it against the day which took everything.

500 years.

He's come here before. The bar called Dawn Winery’s-- it's peaceful in comparison to the other worlds. Though so dreadfully close to Celestia. You’re close. He knows you are. Thus why he’s here to begin with.

The bartender has changed again since he was last here. He’s witnessed many faces since that time so long ago. He almost got mistaken. It seems it’s the previous incarnation’s son? He wears his father's skin, has his bright crimson hair, the only thing lacking is the life in his eyes. He must not be have taken the loss well.

Dainsleif's taste buds have faded with time. But the wine goes down as easily as he remembers. He relies on his sight to enjoy it. It’s changed over the years. The bottle itself. The liquid’s color isn’t as he remembers and it never is the same—

Footsteps.

A familiar voice.

He can feel time pause.

“Hi… I’m an adventurer from the adventure’s guild!”

He doesn’t respond.

The voice is insistent despite him clearly ignoring them.

“How do you do… I’m an honorary member of the Knights of Favonius!”

If he turns around, if he wants so deeply, then it feels as if it’ll be even farther. If the very act of wanting will make it so Celestia tears it away from him.

But the voice continues. A different one. There’s another. There’s two?

“Wow… he has no intention of paying us any mind.”

“So… uh… I’m a traveler.”

Two people, one pair of footsteps. This isn’t an ordinary person.

…

Dainsleif doesn’t look back but he repeats a question. A question from a long time ago.

“A traveler you say. Why do you travel?”

He can feel the awkward smile tugging on the other party’s lips. There’s a light. Unending. Unendurable.

“Well… looking for my lost relative… could it be possible that you’ve seen them?”

[neednolighttoshine]

For 2,5 years he’s been shunned, holed up, depressed and suicidal. I’m not delusional, if the allegations are true he’s the cause of the same pain and suffering among the women accusing him. All I’m saying is and eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.

I will never forgive people who intentionally set out to destroy other peoples lives. I’ve seen several people on here, on Twitter and on TikTok already who’s come forward and apologised for lying about being SA’d by Lucas. It makes me sick to my stomach that people will go out of their way to ruin a person like that.

My heart broke while watching the documentary. Seeing him so broken, honest and raw brought out my own buried emotions and made me face them. I’m glad to see him working through it with the help of friends, family and members. And I’m so, so relieved that he’s able to look forwards.

Life is now. You’ll face setbacks, tragedies, grief and sorrows - but you’ll also be faced with joy, happiness, love, inspiration and warmth. Try to enjoy the bright bits of life, and don’t watch as it passes you by.

[spiribia]

weapons that are just creatures you hit people with

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

My dearest Lumi,

Firstly, I want to congratulate you on your follower milestone. You exude talent and grace and I am beyond grateful that you’ve chosen to share your gift of writing with the world. You deserve every ounce of praise.

Secondly, I’d like to put in a request for said follower milestone. I would love if you’d write something for my favorite little lovable pot wash. His presence in Alford Plea makes me smile in abundance and he fills me with immeasurable joy. I have wracked my brain for like three days and just can’t come up with a solid premise so I’m leaving this one up to dealers choice.

You’re the best 💕

No solid premise?  No problem!  Here’s some softness for our little lovable pot wash 🤍🤍🤍

(Written for the follower milestone!)

He works in one of the best restaurants in the city, which is as fantastic as it is annoying, because it means that you hardly ever see Johnny at normal hours.  His shifts can start at half seven in the morning or two in the afternoon, and they’ve easily gone on for fourteen hours some days.  It’s not entirely unusual for you to be pulled out of deep sleep for a minute or two almost every other night—you’ll hear him try his best to be quiet sneak into your shared flat at and you’ll sleepily wonder if he’ll stick around the next morning long enough for you to make him some coffee or have breakfast together. 

And, of course, when he’s not working or sleeping, he’s studying. 

Your flatmate’s biggest and most well-kept secret is his university degree, one he’s determined to see through while he continues to work.  You wonder how he isn’t closer to burn-out, but you know him.  You’ve known him for a long time.  

He’s one of the hardest working people you know, the most cheerful, the life of the party, radiant and glowing, both inside and out, and you love him you love him you love him—

The front door clicks quietly shut and then—“Bonnie?”— and you smile.  

“In here,” you call out, and hop off the couch to grab him a beer.  He meets you halfway—when you close the fridge door, his goofy smile greets you—and oh.  The man makes your heart flutter, even after all this time.  Especially after all this time.  “Hi,” you whisper, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.  “Alright?”

“Better now,” he says, smiling.  In a few fluid moments, he’s taken the bottle of beer in his hands, used his teeth to open it like the complete savage that he is, lifted you up and set you on the counter.  “So much better now.”  The words are muffled on account of his face being buried in your neck, arms naturally going around you.

The actual time Johnny can spend with you feels like it comes in peaks and troughs, but never his affection—you’re always spoiled in that regard.  

You’ve never bothered labelling this thing you have with him because you don’t need to.  You share the lease of your flat, just as much as you share the good and the bad of your lives.  He’s your best friend, your flatmate, your confidant, your pillar of support, just as much as you’re his bonnie, his emergency contact, his mother’s favourite, his his his.    

“Mmpf—smell nice,” he murmurs (the words muffled against your skin make you shudder and you feel goosebumps along the length of your arms, but Johnny never notices).  Only when he pushes away from you do you get your first proper look at him.   

He looks tired, so so exhausted, but even then, nothing can hide the fact that he glows.  His eyes are melted lazulite under the dim kitchen lights, all the colours of the bright blue sea melted into one.  They hold you captive, and you almost miss his tired babbling.

“...knew it was gonna happen, but right now?  Been just months, wasnae expectin’ it, hen!”

“Wait, what?”

“What?”

You roll your eyes and try to get him to repeat himself.  “What weren’t you expecting, what happened?”

Your words make him roll his eyes mockingly, and he boops your nose lightly.  “You weren’t listenin,’ bonnie?  Simon.  The mad lad’s only gone and married his lass!”

“WHAT?”  Your brows kiss your hairline in shock, and you’re left gaping at him.  “Seriously?”

“Seriously!  Saw her rock on her finger today, massive thing!”  He shakes his head with a smile, and you know it’s in fondness for Simon and his new wife.  “Said Simon wasnae havin’ her hide it anymore.”

“God!  Married!  It’s so…grown up?”

“Suppose so, bonnie.  Nice, though.”  He pushes himself away from you and chugs  half the bottle of beer you’d given him.  “Debrief on the couch?” 

“Yes, please,” you groan and jump off the counter, massaging your buttocks.    

You follow him outside and he plops on to the couch, but there’s no sign of his usual routine of turning the telly on for some football.  You watch as he puts his beer on the coffee table (completely ignoring the coaster, of course) and leans his head back against the couch, looking deep in thought.  

Johnny looks beautiful in that angle, you think—broad shoulders leaning all the way back, his neck exposed and looking ripe for your mouth, your tongue on his skin.  You watch in a daze as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes with his palms, then stretches lightly and relaxes.  “Come sit wi’ me, bonnie,” he says, without opening his eyes, and you’re walking towards him without even registering the fact.  

He draws you in effortlessly, and each time, you fall into his orbit without even the pretence of resistance.     

“It…bothers you?  The fact that Simon’s married now, like a real adult?”  You busy yourself, looking anywhere but him, mindlessly moving his beer onto the coaster.   

“Naw, bonnie…no, it doesnae bother me.  I just…dunno, just bein’ a twat.”

“Maybe,” you say without preamble.  “You’re not…jealous?”

“Shit.  Maybe ah am,” he concedes.  “Dunno, it’s never bothered me like so before.”  He turns to you with a sceptical look in his eyes.  “Ye don’t want it?”

“Marriage?”

“Aye.  That and…to fall in love.”

Ah.  Your mind thumbs through the collection of moments you’ve felt over the years—moments where you’d been so sure that you’d crumble before him, beg him to feel about you the way you felt about him.  The memories flip in your consciousness painfully  until you have a measured response for him.  One that doesn’t give you away.  

“Doesn’t everyone?” you whisper.  

“Aye, of course.  But it’s different.  Girls are supposed to want it more?”  He says the words with a mischievous grin, and you have to scoff at the obvious attempt to rile you up. 

“That’s very feminist of you.”

“Just saying’ what ah’ve heard!”

“And yet, you’re the one bitching about it, John.”

“John?!  Ach, bonnie, you cannae call me that!” he says in mock-horror, hand reaching up to grasp at his chest.  And then he smiles at you again, sincere and full of light and so, so him, that you return in, almost involuntarily.  “Ah’m happy for him, of course.  He’s happy.  In love.  Happy.”

You laugh out loud before you can help it and take a second to notice his glare.  “Sorry, sorry!” you wheeze, sounding decidedly not sorry.  “You sounded like you wanted to fuck him there, for a second, I’m sorry!”

“Aye well, he’s handsome, no?  I’d go fo’ him!”

“...yeah.”  You sigh dreamily as you think about Johnny’s boss—tall and handsome, with arms the size of trucks—and the appeal is obvious.  You’ve met Simon several times over the years, and he’s only ever shown you respect and polite interest.  He’s not exactly your type, but even you can’t turn your nose up at a man that looks like Simon does.

“Okay, that’s enough daydreamin,’ brat!”  Johnny laughs, knocking into your shoulder with his own.  “Lustin’ after a married man.”  He shakes his head dramatically.  “Yer shameful.”

“Nah.  I’m happy for him too!  And…you needn’t be upset about this, Johnny—”

“I’m no’ upset at all—”

“I know.”  You put your hands up in surrender.  “You can be happy for your friend, and for Simon, and you can want it for yourself too.  Nothing wrong with that.”  You try to keep your voice calm, but understanding.  After all, you know all too well the feelings of both, coveting and being happy for your friend.    

 “Guess not.  N’ these things take time, do they not?  It’ll happen?”

“It’ll happen,” you confirm.  “Just need to find the right person and feel the right feelings for them.”    

“Gosh, this conversation’s makin’ me miserable!  Hate bein’ single, y’know?  S’not good for me.”  He leans against the backrest again, and turns his head just so he can look at you.  “We’re both single at the same time in a long time, bonnie.  Ye realised that yet?”

“Shit.  Yeah, you’re right!  Wow.  I hadn’t realised that!”   In fact, you hadn’t stopped thinking about it.             

“We oughta do somethin’ abou’ it?”

You hope to god your laugh only sounds nervous to your own ears, and that you don’t like a character in a Sunday morning cartoon with your shifty eyes that don’t dare stray in the direction of Johnny’s face.  “How about, tomorrow, I pick you up after your shift and buy you a drink?  We’ll even stop at that nasty chicken shop you like after.  So you can’t complain that I don’t do anything nice for you!”  

His eyes melt, and you along with them.  “Thank ye, bonnie.”

“Always.”

You can’t help but smile when his eyes radiate pure happiness at your words.  It takes so little to make Johnny happy and you want to spend a lifetime doing it.  So lost are you in the thought, that you don’t notice the twitch in the muscles of his forearm at the look on your face, how his fingers tremble as they cup your cheek.  When he kisses your forehead gratefully and leans away from you, you don’t hear his heart speed up or his shaky exhale, don’t feel his clammy palms.   

“And you’ve ne’er felt it, eh?  The right feelin’ for the right person?” he quotes you.

“No,” you lie.  I love you.  “You?”

“No,” he lies.  “But…maybe someday, eh?”

“Maybe someday,” you agree, easily.      

[soundlessroom]

Heya! I go by the name Lumi, am 30+, have ADD, and am neurotypical. I'm happy with any pronouns. I'm best known for drawing pink art of the Baldur's Gate 3 cast stealing the heart of my favorite original character.

I've come this far thanks to your support—every reblog, comment, and especially my lovely Patrons on Patreon.com/soundlessroom (Check it out; I'm a bit less controlled there—a total degenerate).

Because Tumblr won't let me switch my main account and my fandom blogs are taking over notes and messages, I've created a new account just for my art-related stuff.

If you're interested in learning more about Ceres, feel free to send some asks their way, either here or on my RP blog @astralrogue.

Tag dumps here

[po-cky-o-o]

I present a very unnecessary analysis of the scaralumi talk before the big fight

First of all I love the way they both can see through each other. I think often times we overlook how good Lumi is at understanding the feelings of others - mostly because Paimon does most of the talking - but here we can see just how good she is at reading him since (I believe) this is the most she has ever talked in a quest. Scara believes he knows what he wants, but Lumi knows what he needs.

I like how he says this because it is true. We have been proven time and time again how Lumi cares about others, which is why despite her being enemies with Scara she can’t help but empathize with his situation.

But she’s not stupid, there’s where it comes the “almost” part. She is saying that as a way to try and stop his plans, not simply because she is worried about him and he knows that, but he still tries to convince her about him being, even though for a moment it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

Scara then moves on to say how his life has been meaningless up to this point, as if becoming a god is his only purpose and without it he is nothing. So he tried to understand why would Lumi bother going through such “futile errands” of protecting everyone.

But once again Lumi sees through him asking why then would he keep the connection with Haypasia (and consequently with Lumi herself). Even with his answer she is not convinced so he just deflects with his arrogance.

Not to mention how everything he says about Haypasia can also be applied to Lumine, since they both share a connection with him and saw his past. I find it interesting how he was able to sense Lumi and immediately entered her consciousness to observe her

Once again Lumi is able to figure him out and say what she needed to tick him off. He says how bad she is at sewing discord, but he still goes ahead and attacks the fatui calling it an “expression of affection”like he did for Haypasia, putting the two girls on the same wavelength

[ofdreamsnwishes]

hello all! how have you guys been doing?

this place has seen better days, huh? i sometimes get some notifications from my older posts and i'm always in awe at the fact that 4/5 years later people still come here!

since my dedication with this blog was... 0, these past few years, i don't expect this post to reach a lot of people, but i still thought i'd do it, both for me and for the older followers (hello! ya'll still remember why you followed me? lmao).

basically, i tydied up the blog a bit; i privated a lot of stuff, ranging from drabbles i didn't like to most if not all of my interactions with the anons. i wanted to "clean up" the blog in preparation for my (still thinking on it) "return". those interactions are still very very dear to me, but i ended up choosing to private them, i hope you guys understand.

the other thing is; even if i do come back, my posting schedule will be all over the place, just like the old times. i do intend on making bigger posts, SMAUs and possibly continue some series (finally write those ideas i had long ago), but for now, i'll stick with the "hours" (?), some tiny drabbles here and there with things i notice on my day to day.

finally, i'd like to say that i'll mostly stick to nct dream and add riize to the mix! quite honestly, writing for them comes more naturally, mostly because the age range is closer to mine.

thank you for sticking by, and if this post did get to you, thank you for reading.

see you all soon.

-Sincerely, Lumie.

[toonilumi]

happy pride month!

☕️ come check out my ko-fi ☕️

[lumilasi]

So I'm not the type to typically make vent art as its not really my way to process things, but today I felt like putting at least something "on paper" so to speak, because my mental health has REALLY been kicking my ass lately (The things mentioned aren't even all that I'm dealing with, the rest are just more specific that I didn't feel like including here, as they'd require much more context), and wanted to at least try and see if it'd somehow help me process things or smth as I am feeling VERY overwhelmed with everything.......

I picked Chouma to represent these feelings, as he's one of the most anxious characters I have, though his reasons are different from mine.

[gtzel]

Lumi in the forest

[gooperts-gunk]

so meanwhile on shelter, s!dapper and s!pomme are confirmed to be the same dapper and pomme of the qsmp but now being taken care of by s!ana, so i mayhaps spent 1/4 of yesterday just crying on & off imagining hypothetically in the 2nd ending that bad is working on, q!bbh is just somewhere in the world without pomme & dapper, walking for eternity hoping he either miraculously finds his kids or fate finds a way to make him die and revive and forget any of the connections he made ever happened. :(

that immortal is UNMEDICATED (flashback to how drugs don't affect him the same way humans do...) and UNDIAGNOSED he is NOT going to be mentally stable out there alone and grieving for years and years, he is a MESS!!! and u know how in bad's tierlist of how q!bbh views others on the qsmp, he said q!bbh feels like he was a bad parent??? BRO!!! :((( and IF he finds his kids, now adults i presume since the s!dapper+pomme+ana lore was a flashback episode, he's gonna see them safe and with all these people and think "oh they don't need their old man anymore, they've outgrown me" because he's a STUPID-HEAD and an IRRATIONALLY INSECURE PARENT!!! >:,(

im so depressed. anyway time to start my "bbh join shelter in 2024 summoning circle" because thinking about it isn't enough i need the angst REAL!!!

[thereisabearonmyceiling]

variations on a theme

[ssahotchnerr]

Ok so you and Aaron don’t live together and usually you end up sleeping over at his apartment but tonight you’re over at yours!!! You always try to have bedding that matches the season/holidays and Aaron is just POOPED.. he’s honkshoo mememe asleep almost immediately while you’re still awake so you take super cute photos of him cuddled into your festive bedding and send it to Penelope 😭���� she’ll definitely print it out and/or put it on a mug because it’s so stinkin cute

omg i’m just envisioning a wintry, christmas tree print <333333 hehe aaron baby’s face is just smushedddd into the pillow, he’s snoring softly (although he insists he doesn’t snore🤨🫵🏻🙄🥰) he’s huddled under a super soft matching green blanket, completely zonked 😭 hehe his hair is all disheveled and you could cry over how adorable he looks. so you take some pics to document the moment, and you know penelope is going to enjoy them as much as you, so you quickly fire them off to her 🥰

and then for bau secret santa 🤭 penelope managed to select aaron so the mug with the image is her gift to him. when aaron opens it he’s sooo blushy but he thinks it’s also hilarious LOL. but evidently you’ll be using that mug more than him, your sweet aaron <33

bonus points: he’s wearing a pair of christmas pjs 🥰 that match yours ��