Someone Draw Isaac Like This Please

How is the „ai generator“ ad allowed on here help pls 😭😭😭

Same reaction

the new xanthus audio oh wow

I’m sorry to say it but Xanthus fans are starving … and with the situation there in … pls I’ve been waiting for 5 months

I go thinking that i'll write one fanfic and swerve into the vibe of another. I apologise for when I post this I just kinda love the angsty vibes. Hopefully I can get this done by next week. shout out to my mutual Birdy <3 got me into the vibe of writing a Xanthus fic.

I feel sorry so sorry for Xanthus. We all know that listener will survive since they are needed for the story to be continued. But Xanthus voice, reaction and the screams got my legs weak

Yo it’s me AGAIN WITH A XANTHUS IDEA !!! so I am an artist (I know you are too) and what if Xanthus sees your art ? The listener has been hiding it from him since the listener is afraid of Xanthus opinion !!! LIKE CMON Xanthus has his own art gallery and he has seen many art pieces ? So once the listener was alone in the room, listening to music and then OH NO ??? Xanthus sees your sketches ?!? But the listener doesn’t notice him for a while and Xanthus just watches them draw :0

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 - 𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞 ✧

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[ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ] xᴀɴᴛʜᴜꜱ ꜱᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

a/n: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SM !! i actually freaked out a little when i saw it because it describes EXACTLY me ?! like i dont show my art to anyone because of judgement also, so i was like WOAH im gonna love writing this, tysm birdy <3 !! gender neutral reader ! i tried not to label the drawing too much, so you can just imagine you drawing whatever you want :)

c/w: none just tooth rotting fluff ;p

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Everything was perfect today.

You in the private room in the gallery, and Xanthus touring people around, showing off the art he has collected over the years of his lifetime. The weather was lovely for once, considering it was London, and the music in your ears set the mood perfectly. It was the most perfect day.

Xanthus has been out for a while, probably in one of his cute rambles about an artist he knew to one of his guests, so you took this opportunity to grab the sketchbook you'd hid in your bag, and sketch for a while. Grabbing one of the pencils that Xanthus had in his draw, you got comfortable at the desk and started to sketch, putting on one of your favorite songs as you do.

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You hadn't realised how much time had passed, as once you start drawing your mind goes elsewhere, letting your deft hands have a mind of their own as they move along the page.

Xanthus had finished touring a few guests by now, and went to go check up on you. Going up the stairs to the door and opening it carefully in case he startles you.

"Love? I'm sorry for leaving you for so long, these particular guests wanted to know everything about John Costable's art piece of Stratford Mill, and to say I got carried away would be an understatement." He chuckles a bit as he speaks, closing the door behind him. He didn't notice what you were doing until he looked up, seeing the back of your head down on the desk in concentration, headphones in and your focus sharp.

He makes an "ohhh" sound under his breath as he nods to himself, acknowledging you and your focus. He stands there for a few moments, just admiring you, before slowly walking up behind you, trying not to alarm you. You don't seem to notice him at all as he stands behind you. He starts to peer over your shoulder, before gasping a little.

Your art is there on the table, in plain sight for him to see. He stands there just staring, picking out all the details you add and your art style, admiring it in a trance. This is the first time he has been able to see your art in full detail. The first few times hes only seen a glimpse before you realise hes there and covering it away from his view, and saying it's just "nothing important". But now, he has a full view of it.

Standing behind you, he watches you for a while, cherishing this one moment where he can see your passion in its true form. He watches how your skilful hands carefully move across the page, holding the pencil precisely in place as you draw. Attentively sketching light thin lines with the led from the pencil, adding little details where needed. Xanthus almost seems to be entranced, as hes never seen this side of you before. He feels like he is watching you for hours, just you and him in your own world.

As you add the last few lines, you put your pencil down on the desk and seem to check it over, making sure you haven't missed anything. Xanthus watches you carefully, admiring the finished page as he feels proud of your work. He smiles to himself, resisting the urge to hug you from behind as he wants this moment to last a bit longer. He pays attention to the way your head tilts to the side slightly, looking at the drawing from all angles. His heart swells seeing this, finding this action adorable, feeling all warm inside.

You sigh, and lean back in the chair as you finish, accidentally leaning the back of your head against Xanthus' abdomen. He hadn't realised how close he had gotten until now. You move quickly, turning around as you look up to see who is there, taking your headphones off and putting them on the desk. There stands Xanthus, a warm smile on his face as you acknowledge his presence at last.

Your eyes go wide as you go to close the sketchbook as quickly as you can, before turning back round and playing it off.

"Xanthus hey your back! Have you uhm- been there the whole time?" You ask nervously, your voice shaking a little. "Pray tell he hasn't seen anything." You think as you wait for his response.

He smiles warmly as he reaches out to stroke your head a little, "Love, your art is stunning, why didn't you show me sooner?" He asks, as he watches your expression change.

"I uhm..." You start, looking down. There's no way of getting out of this if he's already seen it. "Well, I just...uh" You struggle to get the words out as he looks at you intently, trying to form an answer.

"I just thought that, because you've seen so much art in your lifetime, and obviously I- I'm not like all the other artists in this gallery, I just... I was afraid of your...opinion on it, you know? Because you have a lot of art experience with other artists and I just thought- mph.."

He hushes you with a kiss to stop your rambling, stroking your face as he does. He pulls back and smiles, looking you in the eye.

"Love, I've already told you this, I don't judge. Remember when you first came here and I was showing you art, and I asked you what you see, what did I say after that?"

You swallow nervously as you recall the memory. "I am the last to judge." You say as you repeat what he said.

He kisses you on the cheek. "Exactly, and I meant that, truly. I don't just like full pieces of art, you know. I appreciate all the art humans make. Even sketches like yours, my love." He kisses you. "You don't have to be scared to show me. This," He points to the sketchbook, "Is truly remarkable, love. I must admit, I was in quite the trance watching you work, and the feeling I felt watching you was just...it was lovely. I felt proud, even." He smiles. "So please, love, don't feel like you need to hide this from me. I would never judge art, especially yours, how could I? Art is truly a blessing, and I could never judge you for it, my love."

You just stare at him as he holds your hands. You can't hold back the smile you feel coming on to your lips, as you launch yourself into his arms, hugging yourself into his chest. He chuckles a little as he hugs you back, kissing the top of your head.

You pull your head up, still holding on to him as you look at him.

"Thank you, Xanthus, really." He smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss, before whispering against your lips.

"It's alright, love, I'll always support you."

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i loved writing this, its such a cute ask especially because im an artist as well <3 thank you for requesting birdy !

-Jasper

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˖⁺‧₊ kitty? kitty.

author's note: i'm kinda nervous to post stuff but you only live once, right? a big thank you to @yoosungs-cheeks and @jannine00742 (my name twin hehe~) for proof reading! feedback is appreciated !!

“You done in there, Pickle?”. It was one time you were craving pickles at 3 am and couldn't open the jar, one time. And yet here you were, being reminded of the incident every few minutes.

“Pthu! Yep, I’m done. And stop calling me that!”, you spit out the tooth paste, wiping your mouth with your designated towel. It had been a while since you had decided to stay with Isaac. Soon after, his bathroom became your bathroom. His sink, once only occupied with his shaving equipment and toothbrush, soon became more cramped with your skin care and toothbrush holder. His bedroom became your bedroom. His bleak grey bedding now littered comfortable pillows and his nightstand stacked with the library's newest additions.

Leaving the bathroom, you spot your lover nestled into one of the two surprisingly comfortable leather chairs. You wrap your arms around him gently from behind, pecking his cheek. “Whatcha reading?”.

You glance over as he flips the book over so you can read the title. “Lord of the Flies? Bleh”, you grimace before continuing, “Though, I can’t say I’m surprised, Golding is almost as cynical as you”. “Someone’s in the mood to play”, Isaac chuckles, pulling you onto his lap. He kisses your shoulder before turning back to keep reading.

“Mind if I have a sip?”, I ask, nodding to his tea. Isaac hums, but soon pulls it away before you could steal a sip from him. “On second thought, no”. You pout, nudging him gently, “Huh? Why?! Don’t be stingy~ You know I like earl grey”.

He chuckles at your whining. “Because, you just brushed your teeth. I do not mind sharing with you, but I don’t think the taste of toothpaste and tea go together, Pickle”. You huff quietly, but don’t argue back. With a quiet yawn, you lean your head against his, occasionally playing with the sleeve of his free hand or a stray lock.

Your eyes twinkle as you watch him read. It’s difficult not to kiss him with the way his brows furrowed slightly in concentration. Part of you wants to straighten out the crease, poke his cheek, or maybe nibble on his neck, just to see his reaction. Almost as if he’d read your mind, Isaac leans over to give you a soft kiss, his free hand reaching for your lower back, the other still holding the book.

“Someone’s needy”, he smirks, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Are you bored?”. You yawn again, shaking your head, “No, just want to bother you a bit. Pay attention to me~”.

“Tired?”, he cups your cheek, closing the book as he sees through your playful facade. Truth be told, you were exhausted - but going to sleep now would mean going to sleep alone. If you asked Isaac to come with you, he’d drop everything in his hands and do just that, but, knowing just how little free time he gave himself, you wanted to tough it out. “No. Unless you’re read to sleep”, you mumble, nuzzling into him slightly.

“I'm ready for bed anytime you are, Kitten,” Isaac grins, seeing through you instantly.

“…Kitten?”, you blink in surprise. “Huh. I can’t tell if that’s an upgrade or downgrade from ‘Pickle’”.

"Hm… do you prefer something else? It came to me naturally. You’re clingy and yet independent. Needy and playful when you know I’m busy, and while I can count on you for important matters, I can also count on the fact that you’re a brat and a tease. So, Kitten was a natural next step”.

You tilt your head in thought, before shaking it softly, “You’re so… weird sometimes, Isaac”.

Isaac chuckles and lets go of you but only to take you by the hand and lead you to your bedroom. He motions for you to lay down and climbs in behind you, his body wrapped against yours. There’s a comfortable silence.

“Isaac?”, you mumble after a while. Isaac pecks the side of your neck, humming quietly, "Hmm?”.

“…Can we actually get a cat?”. You had asked him a few times - albeit playfully.

"You were serious about that? If getting a pet is a necessity for you…".

You nod slowly, turning to face him. “I think it’d be a nice addition to the family. It’s too early to think about having kids, but getting a fur baby would be nice, no? Besides, you said you always wanted a pet as a kid”.

He hums again, leaning his head on your shoulder while stroking your arm in thought, “You have no idea how tempting the idea of a family with you is… It is too early, though, yes”. He nods, “My mom was good with animals. I always wanted a pet that I could play with, like a dog or maybe a cat, but my grandfather was allergic to them”.

You glance down at him, softly patting his head. “Would you prefer a dog, then? Puppies are cute too”.

He shakes his head, his reply coming in swift and shrap, “No”. “A dog needs to be walked daily. I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you leaving the house periodically, anything could happen. No”. Your hand pauses, before you sigh quietly. As much as he tried to hide it, his paranoia was still clear as day. Baby steps.

“A cat doesn’t need to go outside”, you mumble, kissing his forehead. His breathing slowed down as he laid against you in silence, “A cat it is…”.

You sit up straight, mouth hanging open, “No way- seriously?!”. Isaac laughs at your sudden enthusiasm, “Calm down, Kitten. We'll go to the shelter in the morning, we'll pick out a nice cat, I'm sure. But for now just focus on your sleep, you won't be able to if you're this excited."

You snuggle back into the pillows, gigging happily, “Ah~ I’m so happy right now! What breed should we get? Oh- and are we getting a boy or a girl? Ah- we should probably buy a bed too right? And proper food? And those cute scratching posts! Are we adopting a kitten or an older cat? Or maybe- mmpf”.

Isaac cuts you short as you babble, silencing you with a gentle kiss, “Slow down, Kitten. You realize it is 3 in the morning, right? Can you at least wait for the sun to come up before you start planning our feline's every move?”.

You rub your neck sheepishly, “Sorry… I’m just excited!”. He can’t help but smile at you, cupping your face between his hands carefully, “I know, Pickle. Let’s sleep first and discuss the details tomorrow, hmm?”.

“Mmh. Good night, Isaac”, you peck his cheek. He returns the favor before closing his eyes.

“Isaac?… You didn’t brush your teeth…”.

© chol1na

The Song A Dove Sings

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Synopsis: You sing Xanthus a beautiful song; one he won’t forget for as long as he lives.

Warning: Mentions of blood.

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As dawn made way for the morning rise, with the orange, pink and red hues rolling over into a sky blue, your eyelids fluttered open to the golden rays of sunlight poking its way through the curtains, and the gentle chirps of the birds roosting in nearby trees. The rays of sunlight that woven its way through the balcony window painted the room in an ethereal golden glow. You were enveloped in the warmness of the blankets, the strong hold of the man you loved most, and the faint, lingering smell of cologne and coca butter. You focused on the hushed sound of his breathing, and the warm air of his breath dancing on your neck. You looked at his peaceful expression, the way his blonde hair fell messily over his pale face, and those long, beautiful eyelashes that so perfectly complimented those stunning ruby red eyes you’ve adored so much. Like most people, you weren’t a fan of mornings—and it’s not for the typical reasons. Before you and Xanthus found each other, you woke up to a gaping cavity in your heart, suffocated by the air of solitude that filled the room. It didn’t matter how brightly the sun shined, how blue the sky was, or how loudly the birds sang; mundanity always hung above your head like a dark storm cloud. Seeing your partner’s face reminded you that you were not alone anymore. With every rise and fall of his chest, with every hushed breath that entered the atmosphere, you were reminded that your melancholic days were fewer and far in between. And so, with your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, yielding to the gentle call of sleep—you nestled further into the warm embrace of the one you loved most in this world.

Until you heard a familiar cooing sound. A familiar chirp—one that echoed in the air; its sound fluttering through the wind, just like the wings of the bird it belonged to.

A familiar song.

Your eyes popped open—any trace of fatigue and weariness melting away. As much as it pained you leave the serenity of Xanthus’ arms, you had to. So, with a quiet groan and a lot of caution, you slowly crept out of bed and tiptoed to the balcony window. And sure enough, there it was.

A Mourning Dove.

Your stomach swirled with nostalgia, and your chest felt heavy. It had been ages since you saw one, and even longer since you’ve heard its hauntingly beautiful call. As the bird sang, you took a moment to admire its muted colors—its little body covered in beige and light gray hues. The corners of your mouth quirked up fondly as you watched the dove’s chest and throat puff out to make each sound.

“Love?” A groggy voice groaned behind you.

You turned around to see Xanthus sitting upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“There’s a mourning dove outside,” you replied.

He got out of bed and walked over to the balcony window.

“Ah. So there is. I haven’t seen one in so long, which makes sense—they aren’t native to the U.K.”

You didn’t answer. You merely watched it sing some more. And although, for a time, the silence between you two was very comforting, you could practically feel Xanthus’ inquisitive gaze.

“I take it that you really like this bird?”

“Yeah. A long time ago, back when I used to live with my parents—a dove that looked just like this one would perch on a ledge outside my window, and sing— once in every blue moon. I know a lot of people think that it sings a sad song, but I never thought so. I always felt comforted, and even a little joyful when I’d hear its song.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed. “I’ve always envied them.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re free; they have peace. I didn’t have that growing up. For my entire life, I was forced to live in fear—always looking over my shoulder, always flinching at every corner. I never let myself fully trust people because I never knew what their true intentions were. It felt like I was…trapped in a cage. And since everyone was out to get me and family, I never really got a chance to actually live my life.”

The cage might’ve been spacious, filled with all the luxuries one could ever ask for—it might’ve been familiar, and full of the people you loved, but…

A cage is still a cage, nonetheless.

“Do you feel free now?” Xanthus asked.

You hummed and rested your head on his shoulder. Dontis was an absolute saint for opening up his home to you two. He’s helped you guys out in more ways in one. You certainly weren’t ungrateful for everything he’s done for you two, but at that point it’d been months since you’ve left his penthouse. Months since you’ve got to try new food, or interacted with new people. Months since you were able to live your life.

Yes, his house was full of luxuriously plush couches, beautiful paintings, and wide flat screen T.Vs, but you still weren’t free. A cage is still a cage. But even after everything you’ve been through, if there was one thing you’d gained—-it was peace. You’ve found peace with Xanthus, and that was enough for now.

“When I die, I think I wanna become a mourning dove.”

Xanthus turned his head toward you. “What?”

“I remember you telling me something about the jokes vampires make when they die. You told me that if you died, you’d come back as a bat. So, I’m telling you now that when I die, I’m gonna come back as a mourning dove. So make sure to keep your ears open;

‘Cause I’m gonna sing you a beautiful song.”

……..

No matter where he went or where he tried to hide, death followed Xanthus everywhere—but it never really bothered him until he met you. Humans lives were fleeting compared to his own, and as fragile as a porcelain tea cup, teetering dangerously on the edge of a high shelf; one nudge away from shattering into numerous irreparable pieces. He never liked thinking about your death, or what’d it be like if you were gone—so he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, and cherished your presence while you were still around.

But ever since you and him had that conversation, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He didn’t stop thinking about it when he held your broken and bloodied body in his arms—your face drained of any color, your eyes dull and lifeless.

He didn’t stop thinking about it as he tore Audric to shreds after what he did to you. He could still feel the warmth of his blood dripping from his fingers.

He didn’t stop thinking about it when he gave your eulogy, or when he and your loved ones walked to the graveyard.

And he most definitely didn’t stop thinking about it when they lowered your coffin 6 feet into the cold, dark ground.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave your grave—even after everyone left. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, or to mutter any sort of apology for getting you into this mess. For being so careless. For being so damn weak. All he could do was sit in front of your grave, with his face buried in his hands, and sob inconsolably. He’d lost the person he was supposed to protect; his lover, a piece of his soul. And now, he felt incomplete—broken, even. So, all he could do was sit there, and cry until there were no tears left to shed.

Until he heard a familiar coo. A familiar chirp.

A familiar song.

He took his face out of his hands, and looked up; the red, bloody tears still streaming out of his wide eyes. And sure enough, there it was, perched on your headstone:

A Mourning Dove.

Its little body was bathed in beige and light gray hues, its throat and chest puffed out as it sang. And Xanthus watched quietly in disbelief until it was over. He reached his hand out, and the dove perched on his finger. And as soon as the bird made contact, he felt it.

It was you.

You came back to say goodbye to him, one last time.

The dove cooed once more, and flew away—the faint flapping sounds of its wings fading further and further away. He watched as the dove flew toward the sky.

You were finally at peace. You were finally free.

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A/N: Ever since part 8.1–when Xanthus jokes about dying and being reincarnated as a bat, I couldn’t stop thinking about what kind of animal listener would end up being. I really, really love mourning doves, and I’ve always thought that they’d be a good fit for listener.

Isaac final audio was great. Never imagined a fictional character can have such control over my emotions. Thank you Isaac, thank you for the 3 years old series and thank you Zsakuva. Isaac will always be special and seeing him getting the love and comfort he deserves makes all my problems disappear. Live laugh love Isaac … we will see you in the future 🙏 I’m not crying IM NOTT PLS SOMEBODY HELPPP