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yuuxhan · 2 years ago

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A terrifying reality

A venti angst fic! (Venti x reader)

(The aftermath of your breakup with venti! Reversed comfort-> you comforting venti)

It was a long week, both you and the famous bard of mondstadt had been such a cute couple, but that week had started terribly, for some reason venti seemed to be on edge these passed few days, it worried you a lot.. a lot to the point of easing him in to the question, you wanted to know what was up and for the both of you to talk it through.. but, unfortunately, venti had let his pent up emotions get the best of him and he lashed out at you.. although he regretted it right after, what he said had brought you back to a distant memory of the past.. something you had wanted to forget.. to move on from, but he brought it back and used it as an insult to you. it broke your heart, you had been so kind to him, though you knew he was hurting in some way and it wasn’t easy to break through to a gods heart.. and so, you decided to take a break in the relationship.. for the both of you to go your separate ways and heal before maybe coming back together.

The nights following that incident were hard, you traveled to Liyue the next morning to clear your mind, visiting old friends and possibly even getting their advice on what to do.. you enjoyed their company and it really made you feel a lot better. Though, meanwhile back in mondstat, venti had never left his house since you broke up with him.. the regret he had been feeling for lashing out at you.. and being so distant and cruel even before that made him suffer in silence. He had just been having a rough week, venti knew he could always talk to you and you’d sort it out with him.. but, this time was different.. this time he kept it quiet because he felt like he was annoying or disturbing you with his troubles, his self confidence went down to a low, and now even lower as you left him and went to a distant land instead. The days you were there, he stayed in bed or around his house in sobs most of the day, the skies around mondstadt had been grey and rainy during that time, like they had been reflecting in the god’s mind.

But eventually, the night you managed to come back to mondstadt, you had a clear mind full of hope and thoughts, you wanted to apologize to the bard and move on from the issue at hand, but when you got to his home.. there was no answer.. he had either been not home at the moment or was ignoring your knocks.. and after a minute or two of standing there.. you sighed and left, deciding to go to Angel’s share to check if he was there. It took a few minutes through the damp skies of mondstadt from his house, but you eventually made it to the tavern. The atmosphere was loud and joyful, the drunkards happily laughing and forgetting their problems.. but Sadly, no sign of venti anywhere, which was quite odd.. normally he’d be drinking his problems away or be preforming for the drunkards.. but he was nowhere in sight. You had went up and asked the bartender if he had seen venti, to which even the bartender had no idea. You figured, if he wasn’t at home, I’d at the tavern.. he wanted to be alone and out of his dreary house.. so you gave up on looking for him.

You ended up staying a while at the tavern, ordering a drink or two and relaxing in the atmosphere of the other loud people in the bar, and your legs swinging happily. But eventually, the tavern door swung open and a small bell had chimed indicating someone had came in. When you swung your body around from the barstool, you suddenly froze.. and the person before you was still as a stick. Venti stood there holding his lyre.. his hair looked a mess, his clothes were unkept, his skin was pale and his eyes looked like he hasn’t slept in days. The bartender looked back between you and him for a moment of confusion.. until it clicked and her realized venti came to preform for them.. but the bartender looked worried, unsure if venti was even okay to play in the state he looked.

He watched as the bard slowly went to the middle of the floor where he usually sat to preform.. your eyes followed in worry as well, you can tell venti was frightened and anxious now that he noticed you were here.. but before he could play, the bartender spoke up to him. “Are you sure you’re alright to play..?” He asked. To which the bard stared down at his feet with a look of sadness, loneliness, regret.. and so many more emotions that were bottled up inside. “I don’t know if I’m ready.. but I won’t waist anyone’s time, so I will give it a go.” He tried to sound cheerful but his voice had cracked and his smile faded into a sad frown. “I may not be able to finish… I apologize…” he continued in a most softer tone. The bartender looked worried as well, and he was about to say something.. but venti’s lyre cut him off and he went silent, deciding to go back to what he was doing silently.

Venti’s performance begun and the tavern grew silent.. the melody was sad and sorrowful, which was the opposite of what the audience was looking for in the tavern.. but the bard continued, paying no attention to the crowd.. or especially you.. but between the lyrics you could hear a small cry coming from his lips.. but he kept singing, pretending nobody heard him. Soon the song ended and you could hear the pain in his voice.. and you were positive the others in the tavern had heard it too and some even looked at venti worriedly through their drunken state. But the bard continued onto his next song, tears falling from his eyes and his voice was shaky, the strum on the lyre was shaky and he let out more sobs. He could feel your presence staring at him, along with the others and it did not mix well with his emotions.. he was usually seen as someone so happy and cheerful, this was completely different, and he knew he made a mistake coming here to perform.

The second song ended.. and he went onto his third and final, he looked relieved that it would be almost over, the entire time he had his eyes on the floor.. but he mustered up some courage to look up through his tears, the first thing he saw was your gaze staring right at him from the barstools… and it terrified him so much that he suddenly stopped, gripping the strings like he was about to break it and letting out a loud sob. His song came to an sudden halt from his crying that started getting louder.. he wanted to get up and run away.. and that’s what he did, but as he got off of the stool, his legs were weak and he stumbled, dropping the lyre and falling face flat on the floor. There was suddenly loud gasps from around the room, along with your voice calling out to him in a panic. “Venti!!” Both you and the bartender rushed to his side, but the bard was already shaking and sobbing into his hands.. and having him fall like that made him more embarrassed and ashamed.

The poor bard didn’t notice anyone rush to him, he laid in the floor with his cheek pressed onto it, sobbing.. he was too embarrassed and afraid to move.. until he felt hands pick him up. It was the bartender who helped him to his feet.. but it only made him panic more as he noticed you and the bartender came closer to him, as well as some of the other people in the tavern got to their feet. He suddenly started thrashing about, trying to get free from the bartender’s grip. “LET ME GO! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME! I DEMAND YOU!” He screamed through his cries.. but the bartender was worried that if he put him down, he’d fall again and you backed up a bit to give him space.. though, venti’s cries and screams were getting agonizing and painful to watch.. and the bartender slowly sat him down, letting go.. and without a seconds notice, venti got up and attempted to run off again, his legs were still weak, but he managed to take a few steps before tripping again and suddenly falling once more right in front of you.

Your body moved before your mind, but you were still unable to catch him on time from how fast he got up.. you just watched as he sobbed by your feet and you slowly bent down to him. You noticed his whole body was shaking and seething he tried to grab onto anything to get him back up, which so happened to be you.. he struggled to get up, kicking and flailing around in a loud, painful cry.. “I WANT OUT!! I WANT OUT OF HERE!! I WANT OUT!!” You had noticed from before that your presence here scared him and that he wanted to run away.. so you had your arms around him, helping him back onto his feet.. and without a seconds notice, venti dashed off, pushing you away and running out of the tavern, slamming the door behind him.

The tavern was now left in utter silence and shock, everyone was stunned by what had just happened.. everyone except you who turned to grab your things, shouting at the bartender “I’ll pay for my drinks later!! I’ll be back!!” Before running out after him. But unfortunately, you were late, venti was nowhere in sight.. but you could hear someone crying in the distance.. venti hadn’t gotten far and found himself at a dead end.. he collapsed onto the ground and let out a raw, hard, loud sob.. he was so desperate to get away from people.. he’s having a panic attack and he’s starting to hyperventilate ontop of his seething.. and within a few moments, you tracked his voice down and found him coughing and gasping for air..

You didn’t want to startle or scare him.. but it looked like he really needed help.. you made your way closer.. and closer to him until you sat down beside him, you took off your cloak you had been wearing and wrapped it around him, and you knew it.. his immediate response was to grab onto your comfort.. he pulled the cloak into himself like a blanket.. it was so big that it hid his entire body and he calmed down just a bit after realizing nobody could really see him now.. but the cloak made him realize you were here.. he was still sobbing and shaking, his panic attack at its max, but his eyes laid on yours and he let out a sob once again. “I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..” he kept repeating through his sobs.. his body leaned forward into yours and he gripped onto your clothes, fully accepting you as you hugged him tightly.

You pulled the bard up onto your lap, letting his head rest on your shoulder, it was his favorite position to be held in, it felt like you were holding all of him and he could be a child again in your comfort. He wiggled around to make himself small in your grasp, and you were able to hug his knees, all the way up to his back in the hug.. and he loved every second of it.. he found solace in your arms.

It took him a long time to calm down, you had to rock him side to side ever so gently and whisper to him in his ear.. and eventually the bard relaxed and gave in.. his body crumbling like a crumb in your arms, his arms and legs wrapped around your back.. he was safe.. and it calmed him even more down as you mentioned something into his ear “I love you, dear~” you said with the most softest and sweated voice, it made his heart skip a beat, even after you two had broke up.. it made him tear up again and he shakily replied it back to you. “I love you too.. Windblume..~” in his hoarse and dry voice.

From what it sounded like, you two had made up and ended up calming down together in the empty streets.. venti grew tired and asked to stay at your place tonight.. he needed your comfort, your warm house.. it was so much better than his old messy house in the city.. and soon enough he fell as sleep in your arms, his shaking and breathing was finally stable.. after so long.. and his arms and legs went limp as you carried him to your house, spending the rest of the night snuggling under warm sheets together beside the fireplace.

The end! Thank you for reading!! 💖🫶🧸

(Once again.. I wrote this in a hurry, I apologize for spelling mistakes 🙈)

#genshin impact #genshin #venti #venti x reader #venti fanfic #genshin impact venti #venti angst #venti x y/n #genshin venti #venti x oc #venti x you #gi venti #venti the bard #venti headcanons

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citrus-seas · 2 years ago

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Longing For Days Long Past And Loves Long Gone

A/N: I felt angtsy so now you have to suffer with me!!! God do I love Venti...

CW: Suicidal ideations, implied suicide, loss, deppression, alcoholism

Please take note of the content warnings.

This is about Venti and the Nameless Bard

Underneath the star-strewn skies, the green-clad bard’s thoughts drifted into days long past. Days adrift in the breeze as a small wind sprite, accompanied by his beloved bard friend. Days spent frolicking with him in the grassy fields, time spent together without a care in the world. His beloved bard would sing him the most captivating of songs, spinning lyrics, and weaving rhymes into melodies fit for a king’s ears.

Why did it all have to change? Why must his final memory of his cherished bard be that of his chest splattered with blood? Why could he no longer enjoy gliding in the winds of his nation without the somber memories of his dear bard creeping in?

He didn’t wish to forget. How preposterous of an idea. To forget his beloved bard was to disrespect the form he now walked Teyvat with, to betray his memory, and betray Venti’s own memory as a mere wind sprite. Forgetting... how foolish.

Yet, sometimes, he contemplated whether it would be easier to simply forget. Not just the loss of his beloved bard, but every loss that came after. The bloodshed of the Archon war, the endless slaughter of the Cataclysm. Respecting the memory of those passed be damned, Venti wished he could simply be free.

Be free of what? He didn’t quite understand. Be free of the shackles and burdens of his memory? The ever-present hole in his heart where others should be? How ironic that the god of freedom didn’t feel so free.

Yes, he had the choices and opportunities to do what he wanted, but what Venti truly wanted was forever out of his reach. He longed for the warm embrace of his beloved bard, for his stories and anecdotes. He wanted to be held and loved again.

Of course, he had the love of the people of Mond. He had a love for his new friends and those from the older days that still remained. But it simply wasn’t the same. He wanted to be seen and felt, and understood by someone deeply and intimately. He wanted his beloved bard back.

On nights like these when even Master Diluc’s finest of liquours could not quell his pain, he would head to Starsnatch Cliff and gaze into its smooth, crystalline waters. He dared not go down in fear of his reflection. For a split second, he could see his beloved bard’s eyes, and oh how he ached for him. He would see his body, his beloved bard’s warm body, and wish he could be held tightly to his heart again.

But it was not his beloved. It was simply Venti masquerading as him. If his beloved could see him now... Venti would be ashamed. He had failed as an archon and attempted to drown his infinite sorrows in alcohol. “See the world through my eyes,” his bard had said. How wasteful Venti was being.

Here was, legs dangling over the cliff, oh so close to ending it all. If he couldn’t forget, was this the next best option? No one would miss him, not truly...

He was not present as an Archon, and even Liyue, a nation once reliant on theirs, was still functioning well with that old blockhead in retirement. Mondstadt would be fine without him, surely. The Knights already took care of things...

He felt himself be pushed towards the edge. How funny, the very winds he once commanded are now pushing him towards his end. He had seen enough of the world and was ready to end it. Would Celestia be kind enough to return him to his beloved? His stolen eyes welled with tears, and he was showered in waves of longing.

This was it. No longer would he need to down himself in alcohol, or clutch himself in the abyss-black hours of midnight while sobbing for what could have been.

With a final gaze towards star-strewn skies, Barbatos pushed himself from the towering ledge, watching as the vast expanse of waters below became closer and closer.

A/N: There might be a part 2. Maybe. Please go drink some water :)

#Venti #Nameless bard #Venti X Nameless Bard #gensin impact #genshin #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfiction #Angst #I am sorry but also not

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quicksilverlightning · 3 years ago

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Volo is her favorite travel companion by far, though they don’t often find themselves going in the same direction. She appreciates his easy nature and curiosity for the world – he knows many a secret path or hidden place far off the main roads, the general territories of the more vicious Alphas, and the best places to set camp. The gruff Security Corps members are downright abrasive in comparison.

Sometimes she’s lucky enough to travel with him for more than a day, and those trips are the best of all. Volo frequently ditches the relative safety of the path to go poke at whatever he happens to find interesting at the moment, and Akari is as quick to follow as she is to lead. He teaches her some of the more common glyph symbols found in the ruins scattered all over Hisui and even how to write her own name in the lost language. He’s a natural storyteller, of both his travels and of his beloved legends. The ruins feel less empty when he gesticulates to make a point, or shows her some small detail that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.

As night falls, the two set up camp across from each other and share simple meals over the campfire. Volo identifies the constellations and their corresponding myths, or sings verses from songs whose tune is long lost, but whose words have been translated by his faithful hand:

If I should spy thee on a winter’s eve,

say a prayer, but walk away.

What tragedy do you bereave

upon this lonely winter’s eve?

Does spring await for you, starlight,

or are you prisoner in your grief?

Let fly your heart to grace the sky;

bury your hurt beneath the eaves

upon this lonely winter’s eve.

If spring be near it comes with dawn,

rose-gold skies to greet the day.

When the last of snow has gone

and winter’s bite has just withdrawn,

move forward as you pass your time -

walk your road and carry on.

Cast your gaze upon the fields;

see a world not yet bygone

in the light of spring’s new dawn.

“There’s still two more verses yet – it’s reasonable to conclude that they’re for the other seasons, but not necessarily!”

Akari smiles at him from across the fire.

“You have a lovely voice.”

“You think so?” He looks a touch embarrassed; she thinks it might only be the firelight, but quietly hopes it isn’t.

“Yes – you clearly missed your calling as a traveling bard.”

“I don’t know about that,” he laughs. “Though I have been told that I’m a ‘shiftless grifter with no work ethic.’”

“Did Ginter say that?”

“No, surprisingly,” he gazes into the fire. “Someone else.”

“Oh?” She lets the tone of the word rise up into a question, but he doesn’t respond. Something flickers across his face, and she chooses to let it go.

“You’ve definitely got work ethic – it’s just pointed in a different direction.”

“Mm.” He hums around the spoon in his mouth as he finishes off the curry.

“Really! You’ve taught me so much – I wouldn’t be so far along in the Corps without all your help. I think you must know more than just about anyone.”

“Your confidence in me is inspiring.” She kicks a pebble at him.

“I’m serious! I love traveling with you, you know?” He’s in the middle of letting Growlithe lick his plate clean, but turns at this.

“Of course – you want to know everything about everything. You make me notice things, or think about things. Most of the people settled here are too busy trying to survive to just – I don’t know, sit and reflect, or just let themselves be.”

“You do?”

Volo absent-mindedly pets Growlithe and scratches him behind the ear as the dog whines and leans into his hand. She swallows and presses forward.

“Like that song you’re translating – it’s about how lovely the world is. About living through loss. I mean, I understand,” his eyes flick towards her. “It’s hard living in Hisui. Everyone is busting their ass just to make it through another day. There’s not a lot of time for art, or history, or legends.” Growlithe snuffles about at her feet, seeking any dropped morsels. She leans back to gaze at the night sky.

“But those are the things that make it worth getting to another day. Like your song, about seeing the world in a new light. You make me think about things like that.”

Her eyes drop from the stars and she finds him staring at her the way he sometimes stares at ancient inscriptions carved into temple walls. Like she’s a puzzle he’s missing a piece for.

“Volo?”

He blinks; the moment passes, but not before she grabs on to it.

“Do you ever think about things like that?” He rests his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together in front of his lips.

“All the time.”

#pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus #fanfic #volo #pokemon volo #pokemon akari #akari #pokemon fanfiction #pla #pla volo #pla akari #poetry is actually my real calling #not even kidding #this is one of my favorite sections #volokari

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idanwyn-et-al · 3 years ago

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(XIV||22-22): Veracity.

(Continued from here.) (♪)

She sneezes, despite her best efforts to stifle it. To her surprise, the Temple Knight holding her right arm pulls a mostly-clean handkerchief from her pouch, cleaning Anne-Sophie’s nose. The gesture of kindness shames her further, hot tears stinging her eyes in the algid wind. It makes her miss her mother, who will surely be present in Ishgard.

Seven-and-thirty springs old, needing her nose wiped and missing her mother like a girl in ribbons and gowns. Part of her wishes to call Glass to her side, to escape yet again. But she cannot; she will not. She continues through the snow, and catches sight of the covered wagon up ahead, robed and armored figures surrounding it.

---Previously, in the Coerthan Central Highlands:---

Anne-Sophie bit hard on her lower lip to keep from whimpering as she poured the icy water over her head and shoulders. In many ways, her travels had made her much stronger; in others, they’d spoiled her to softness. Despite a lifetime of waking in the barracks, bathing in waters heated until they were just this side of freezing, she had grown reliant upon warm showers and temperate springs for her ablutions. She would have foregone bathing altogether had it not been necessary to wash her red locks black with Noémie’s alchemical shampoo; whatever sweat managed to rise beneath her travelling clothes didn’t warrant more than a quick scrub of what her aunt Elodie called ‘the three pits’.

Toweling herself dry, three pits included, her teeth chattered beneath bluish lips as she dressed as quickly as she could. Today’s journey would be an unhurried one; down to the Observatorium, then onward to the North Shroud. She could only hope Vendredi wouldn’t fight his dress barding too vehemently; the Mystic Knight knew it reminded him of the battlefield and its attendant suffering, but it was necessary to help him blend in.

Camp Dragonhead’s chocobokeep was now another handful of gil richer, and Anne-Sophie and Vendredi had purchased further freedom from suspicion and capture. Once her steed’s ground-eating strides had carried the pair a good ways south, she guided him off the path, aiming for a fortification within the Skyfire Locks she knew to be largely vacant these days.

Her current fugitive status was not a good enough excuse for her to neglect her morning training regimen. If anything, it provided good impetus to do so, and so she did, Vendredi keeping a nervous eye on the road as his mistress went through her sword forms. Anne-Sophie began with the basics, then added the aetheric augmentations she’d learned some twenty years past.

Earth, for defensive maneuvers, steady and unyielding: Glass’s blade widened, ready to intercept incoming blows.

Fire, for merciless offensive strikes, to be used only when paired with a sword-and-shield defensive companion: the magicked weapon kept its signature blue-wrapped pommel, but otherwise lengthened and sharpened its blade to a keen edge.

Air, the first element she’d learned, for quick, precise strikes and augmented acrobatics: a balanced rapier was the reflection the Fury’s Looking-Glass took on.

Now she’d worked up a sweat worthy of a bath, frigid or otherwise. Her heavy panting echoed against the inside of her helm as the Mystic Knight willed Glass’s configuration back to its defensive broadsword guise, then tied it to her hip. Keeping it attached to her body by mundane means lent her disguise another ilm or two of veracity to the casual observer; if she were to let it float through the air beside her as she often did, that would surely catch someone’s eye sooner or later.

“Kwe--eeeh ♪,” Vendredi trilled, the sound shattering her idle musings. Instinctively, she fell to her stomach, arms akimbo so her elbows could hold her head above the snows her feet had kicked up during her training regimen. The sun had yet to rise; the cloudy skies were still dark, oil-filled torches dotting the snowy locks serving as the only sources of light. There, on that nearby peak---she thought she spotted something ascending swiftly and silently into the gloom. Vendredi whistled again. Curiously enough, the sound was the bird’s friendly tone of greeting someone familiar. A snowlark, perhaps? He was fond of birds, be they larger or smaller than he.

A quarter bell passed while she lay in silence, the sweat she’d worked up quickly becoming clammy before her specialized gambeson and cowl wicked it away. Vendredi did not sound any further alarums; the wind whistled through the spruce trees, snowflakes whipped aloft from the frozen earth pirouetting on its currents.

At length, she got to her feet, stretching out her sore muscles as quietly as her armor would allow. Climbing into Vendredi’s saddle once more, she continued her journey to the Observatorium, praying to the Fury that her ruse hadn’t failed her.

(Continued here!)

#FFxivWrite2022 #my writing #Anne-Sophie Bale #XIV Write 22 Anne-Sophie Story #Prompt 22 #Veracity #Vendredi the Chocobo

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

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The One The Bard Once Loved

NEW Vibe check (appropriate song to cry to while reading)

"The bard, the sprite, the archer. The trio of young dreamers that wish to witness the blue skies past the raging winds that lock their freedom. But those are more than mere dreams, for it requires the sacrifice of those you love, to grace the courage to fight a God. And Barbatos, poor Barbatos, sacrificed more than he wanted."

Pairings -> Venti x Fem!Reader x Bard (Gale)

Word Count -> 4,337

Theme -> Angst, Backstory, Long Fic

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event)

Warnings -> Spoilers to Venti's story, character death

"Oh little sprite, from whence beyond

Does thou reminiscent of a vagabond?

Curious to which it whisks upon

Trapped now in desolate, forlorn"

Venti the wind sprite had always been curious, the single whisk of air that always goes the opposite way, hanging behind from his fellow currents to be distracted by a curious thing. So it was no surprise to anyone that he had gone lost once more in their rounds swaying but when he'd not return, long ago has his current passed the nation of Mond. Yet there was no way he can fly by his family of winds, for he finds himself trapped within the walls of a grazing storm that cages the stone walls of the city, of winds that he could not control nor agitate.

No matter how hard he tries the wind does not part, and so little Venti was stuck inside brooding skies and angry blasts. No mere sprite can go against the mighty strength of an archon.

So he resigns to his fate and wanders in this new place. Of a city wide and barren, why dare the Decarabian hide such dwelling? And even with the raging howls of the walls of wind, Venti couldn't help but wonder the silence it traps within.

A tiny ball of white in an expanse of gray. The thought scares the little sprite enough to make him scurry for the smallest bit of sound he can decipher. The loneliness creeps into his core—

And his little body bumps into that of a soft material. "Oh! Goodness, one should not run off without looking like that-" the figure turns and finds itself face to face with a floating blob, deep blue eyes wide and mouth hangs with wonder. Venti recognizes this creature in one of his endeavors as the wind, a human being, the true wanderers of Teyvat. Yet what is one doing trapped? "Such a peculiar being! What could you be?"

Yet it is not frightened by Venti's rarity, well, given he is not the most frightening wonder in this continent this was no surprise.

The sprite did not mind being found out. No, no, quite the opposite honestly, as he flies closer to the young boy and hides in his upturned hood. Nuzzling against the junction in his neck as he expresses gratitude in the company and presence of another in this desolate world.

The young boy chuckles and it reminds him of a song. "Perhaps you do not understand what I spoke?" The sprite shakes its head and the ticklish spot is tickled again. "Or do you not know how to speak?" A nod. And another giggle.

Without another word, the human slips back into the alleys of winding yet thin roads before making his way inside what looks to be a cathedral of tall composition. Glass windows of the same length tinted in kaleidoscopic patterns of color. There is a light in them you would usually bask in during the 'outside world', but in here it replicates that of an oasies in the deserts of Sumeru.

Underneath the artificial haze it beams a seeming spotlight at a figure clad in a dark ebony cloak. Venti felt the vibrations of an elated gasp as the human rushed over with a smile and frantic waving.

"My fair muse, how you've brighten my day, bestowing your presence tonight!"

The cloak tenses before immediately relaxing, the 'muse' he speaks of turns with its loose hood falling as it bundled around the shoulders, and Venti the sprite couldn't help but gasp too at the sight!

Fair is lacking, no words can describe the essence of bloom and beauty at the beholder as you stood there almost sparkling, hair catching the twinkle of light. Your plum lips caught itself smiling yet your eyes twinkled double the amusement at the sight of the human before you, "Gale." You murmured with an undertone of annoyance as you trudged over, flicking the boy's forehead so suddenly he'd voiced his hurt loudly. "Where have you been?! You've never been late to our daily rendezvous, you had me worried-!"

"Oh, such a cutie when you worry!" The young boy, Gale, cupped your cheeks in the middle of your spiel as he softly pats it with his fingers. Venti had never seen such creature change colors as fast as you, not even a chameleon, or an octopus in hiding. "I've simply found a new companion while I was out and about!"

As if a spotlight was caught unto him this time, your blown eyes wandered to the sprite floating by your company's neck. And oddly he'd found the attention appreciated.

"Who is this? An elf?"

"Venti!" There was a distant jingle of imaginary bells in his squeak of a voice.

"It/You can talk?!"

(Y/N) Lawrence.

Gale the Bard.

Venti the El- Wind Sprite.

Gale was a bard that resides in the cathedral of Mondstadt, homeless and without blood and kin, the nuns had took him in and lead their choir in turn for their hospitality.

You, on the other hand, lived with a clan of hunters that once ruled the mountains and forests. But with the emergence of the inescapable walls of wind, your family had been on the forefront of the protection of the citizens.

There were a lot of struggles in communication between you two and the lil sprite. He only knows his name and how to copy words (not so fluently) so questions had to be foregone, teaching the little one took priority. And Gale being the weaver of words took it upon himself to teach him frequently as you had your duties and family to go to.

Venti would sometimes disappear for a majority of the time and you'd figured he finally found a way to pass through the winds without shredding himself among the blades of current. And then he'd pop back in to listen to the merry tunes Gale had come up with, both of them waiting for your return.

"Ah Venti, is she not a beauty? The youngest daughter of Lawrence, as divine as that of incense. Oh tell me those dotted eyes could see it too!" The little sprite eagerly nods as he follows the bard's stride across the aisles in the holy cathedral, once again barren of other souls except for them. Whenever his human friend finds time to muse, it would be most about the maiden he fancies, the muse of most of his songs. Venti had been captured by his delicate tunes and savory lines to the point that he too had been overly enticed by your grace when your presence shines.

Your strength, your smile, your laugh, your hair. Your gait, your poise, your eyes, your glare. You had caught their stares dozens of times in silence before and it was always up to you to put them back to present time.

Venti simply basked in your warming aura and indulges himself outwardly, often you'd find him dozing off on the crown of your head. And often times you'd find a little pout on Gale at such a sight that you had no choice but to tease. In those moments, the wind sprite knew he had come out triumphant.

The cathedral doors open as quickly as they had closed, your windswept and frantic form appearing from the storm outside. The two boys in your life immediately lit up on your appearance but you'd know most of it was directed at the numerous scrolls and books you currently cradle in your shivering arms.

You offered them a grin, one of victory, and you'd all cheered at your success.

Soon, your merry trio made its way to the second floor of the cathedral in front of a faraway hallway that looks over the vast floor of the first yet still had the glow from the looming illuminated glass windows. Beholden in front of you are illustrations of a world beyond, filled with colors and shine, a world you had only imagined from stories now pictured perfectly.

Venti would hover over the illustrations at random intervals and giddily point at some of those he recognized, squeaking incoherent noises yet reflecting happiness and familiarity. While you fancied with indulging the sprite in his incomprehensible stories, Gale sat beside you with adoring yet distant eyes upon the images laid before him. Looking through them, and projecting himself in such a world. The books of the outside world you'd stolen from your clan's sacred libraries will be the start of a spark of desire to be free. And with it the start of a new era.

"The true sky, and songs that cageless soar...

Were they not wishes worth fighting for?"

Long had you gone and abandoned your stolen goods for them to admire more, at least until the day your clan finally realized the missing materials in the vast expanse of the bookshelves they own. There was more to marvel at yet you feared if you linger longer, your sister would look for you and find your little crime all too soon.

Venti quietly watches the familiar illustration of a beach littered with creatures of the sea on its glittering sand before he'd lift his tiny head up, witnessing the intense stare his bard friend had on the scroll where lies an overgrown tree and a stone structure. The sprite noted he had not seen this one.

"How marvelous it would be, to celebrate the most joyous moments under this tree," Gale mumbled in a quiet lilt of longing in his voice, "Imagine (Y/N) and I, with you by my side, as I finally pluck the courage to get down on one knee." Venti bumbled in slight jealousy, buzzing in front of the bard that could only cast a laugh. "Oh hush, dear friend, is it not appropriate to take an arrow to the knee for an archer such as she?"

Yet even with his desire to be by your side, the little sprite knew that he would be there to support his friend for the happiness you two deserved. In a land where you are free. Still, Venti hopes his cuteness would be enough to prolong you just a little bit more.

Drunk in passion and dreams, the next day the bard was scheming. And when you'd come to his cathedral of a home, he finally poured out his plans to you with a Venti quipping with cheers on the side.

The Mondstadtian had predicted your hesitance, even your disapproval on the notion, and were ready to chip in to persuade you once more— yet you gave in. Immediately. The same fire burned in your eyes at the thought of being unshackled and caged from the world begging to be explored. Your sentiments together with the bard fueled the desire between you three, and through the brainpower of a trio of young minds, you had drawn your plans.

Gale aided by Venti would try and coerce with the Ragnvindr clan's leader, and you would work on convincing your eldest sister Amos for the help needed to coerce the whole Lawrence bloodline into the battle. You knew there was an undeniable hatred within her against Decarabian and you wanted her to fuel that fire once and for all, for one great cause.

And soon enough, the strings of fate had come into play, and the one who shall record this momentous history has taken its seat by the balcony of war. Only the last piece of the puzzle is left in this grandoise play—

"Gale, Venti, are you sure this is the right direction to the hideout? We're taking a route longer than usual, surely you're not making last minute pranks..."

Your bow smacks at your back as you made your way inside the dark closet. It was two cycles before the fated ambush would come and in your nerves you had not realized how amiss things had been for the others. You were more than ready even if your fingers were to tremble everytime it holds your bow and arrow, predictions of the war that shall come floats within the expanse of your mind.

In your limited vision, your bard friend and sprite shared a look that did not pass by you. The tension had only caused you to gulp in your nervousness, were you found out? Did the participants of the revolt suddenly back down? "There has been a change of plans, but worry not for history still pans. My Muse, it is best you stay to assure you will not be caught in the storm's disarray-"

A hand flew across the bard's pristine white skin and his dark ocean hues could not help but widen. Is he... telling you to not participate in the war?! What kind of— a sob left through your gritted teeth despite your best efforts, and you're not sure who was more broken between your friends upon the sight. "How could you, even think- Gale, you carry no arms but a lyre! And Venti still has no means to go against the Archon that controls the winds! What kind of absurd idea is this?!" In the middle of your rage, your friends had already wrapped you in their sentimental hug, expressing their own misery with free-flowing tears." I'm supposed to protect you... t-the three of us were supposed to lead the path of freedom..."

"You've always protected us, (Y/N). Now would be the best time... to return the favor," and as your friend stepped back to give a parting smile, your whole world suddenly engulfed in black as the door shut with a slam and a final lock.

"Gale! Venti! No, please no! Let me out! Don't do this, PLEASE!"

"Please hear us out, our dear (Y/N)," Gale leaned his forehead against the thick door that separates you two, shedding the last bit of tears he could muster before the end of an era. The desperation in your every bang against it, breaks apart a hole in his own heart, "For your own good, and your own future."

When Gale described love to the little Venti, the latter was certain that he felt the same way for you. Yet the human ever so jokingly laughed at how he was still too young to fully understand the implications of such words. But he desired just as much to protect you, to be by your side, and to see your smile. But the human was right for he did not truly understand the reasons WHY he felt like so...

So he asked instead, dear friend Gale of Tales, why have you come to cherish this human in devotion? And quite so the other was happy to indulge!

"It starts with young Mondstadt when the walls were young and the people still knew the tales and what they sang. I was a poor little bard with a broken lyre, when living alone was nothing but dire.

Without a home, without a bed, I was ready to starve to death. But an angel clad in white suddenly lead me to bright light. My muse had brought to me a cathedral, yes the one we are in now! And since then I've lived a proper choir life, always wondering how...

just how things would be without (Y/N), my angel? Continuing to live in the dark alleys, would I have been able? Even now I have yet to repay her act of kindness. But one day, for sure... " Perhaps, this act the young boy now follows, was the payment he had been waiting for.

How long you had stayed there, you had no clue but by the sounds of war cries and clashing steel had told you enough. You'd been there for too long.

Blessed with some luck that a crowbar had found its way in this janitor closet in a cathedral no less, you had immediately set out to join the battle: beyond the holy doors flames had lit up from the torches the revolt has carried, many bodies lay by the stone grounds of the city, some moving and struggling while some... you spare them not a second thought as you rushed past the stone pillars to where the heat of the war should be. If the battle plan had gone as it should then—

A hand gripped your arm with such force it had you cry out before you even registered you were being slammed to the floor. A shadow of a knight that serves the God of Storm looms over you with a glare blazing past his helmet. "You're one of them, I recognize that face! You're not winning today-" yet another blade suddenly pierced through his chest, and your shirt had been splattered when it was pulled. The now lifeless body falls past you and another replaces him.

"Sir Ragnvindr!" The knight shared the same shock and relief you wore before it steeled, immediately pulling you up and away from the on-going exchanges of blows. "Everyone- how's the war looking?"

"Men had fallen from the green-tipped arrows, but we are making progress," the redhead gestured to the tower where the greatest enemy lies, taking note of the cracks and crumbling structure, a sign of his coming doom. A very good sign. "Amos took it upon herself to climb the tower-"

"What?! That's beyond the plan, she- she could get herself killed!" You brought your own bow from your back at the mention of your sister archer, bringing the strings back with an arrow at the ready, your intention clear. The redhead had shown a glint of worry but his gaze had been resolved once again at the hope of freedom, and he leaves you to your chase as he fends off the guards that dare go after you.

You expertly evaded blows and parried kicks with your bow and arrow, yet no sign of the heads of the resistance had caught your sight. The longer you climbed, the more you feared for the worst. By 2/3 of the tower you had scaled you managed to poke your head out to see the scale of war. Of red and orange floated below as the razor winds felt more violent than it had been ever since you had been born within its impenetrable walls, even from this distance high up you could still hear the clash, the warmongers held up in the central square where all battles now takes place.

And within that chaos you managed to single out a lump of black and a dot of floating white. Miraculously, your scream had reached their faraway ears and looked up, just in time to see your aerial shots of support.

"(Y/N)?! What is she-!" His words had been cut with an arrow wheezed past his head to bring down a foe that had sneaked behind him. Right, battle. Many of the immediate threats had been neutralized and the resistance had found the upper ground thanks to the archer's barrage. "How-how is she up there!"

Another body had fallen next to him with a cut on its back, a certain knight rushing past him to hit another. "Watch your back, bard! Now's not the time to monologue, she's going to backup Amos."

You were too far to hear the horrified gasp and the fearful expression your two faithful friends adorned. But the ground you were on began to shake, and you know you had to go on. "Venti! Gale! Focus, I'll be there with you two soon!" You screamed at the top of your lungs in hopes that it will reach them before continuing your ascent to the most treacherous area you had to be in—

You barelled towards the woman with silver hair with a pace you've never seen and a strength you'd never thought you carried, exchanging the shot you felt lodge into your left side as you sent one right through the guard's neck. You fell on your bottom and clutched the wounded area, but kept it there, if not to make sure the blood does not pour if you were to take it out.

"Sister!" The familiar voice cradled you as gently as she could with a fear-stricken face. But you assured her that it had not hit anything major, the way her worry didn't dissipate seem to hide a kind of anguish she couldn't name. "We must get you to safety, the clerics- the clerics could-"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you grunted as you pried yourself out of her grasp to prove your point, still able to keep your stance. You see Amos struggle from fatigue yet about to bite back, "We're so close, sister, any moment we linger is another body on the list of deaths." Painfully she'd bitten on her own tongue, finally relenting as you ascended the last few steps.

Normal arrows are nothing but toothpicks against the mighty God of Storms, the Anemo Archon, who easily flicked your futile attempts to graze him. And yet Decarabian was losing power just from fighting off not only your barrages but those even from below. His walls were thinning and his heart crumbles, from the thought of his once devoted followers turning back on him.

With one last strength the Lawrences gathered every piece of energy and power they could into their shot, and Decarabian looked at them with tired eyes and a raised hand. "Finally, I shall hold his gaze." The voice next to you spoke before your charged shot, swirling with beaming light flew past the sharp gale of wind and pierced through the God's core. Your ears had picked up on a violent crack before you were hit by the razor breeze upon the dying breath of the archon, sending you and Amos off the crumbling tower to free fall to your deaths.

In the edge of your peripherals the bleak gray walls of storms dissolved into rays of natural light, giving way to a hue of blue you had never seen before. As the wind wheezed past your ears, you smiled at the face of death—

When a jingle of little bells suddenly slowed your descension, and you were softly met with the hard floor on your back. With tired eyes you'd found yourself next to the pioneers of freedom, conscious and unconscious. You had felt Venti nudge your hand to those of another's limp ones, soft palms yet calloused fingers, you intertwined your hands with that of the bard's.

"We did it, we finally... did it..." A pulling force drains the consciousness from your mind and body in laboured breaths, and despite your protests to keep staring at the beautiful sight of the true sky, your eyelids were pulled shut by an unknown exhaustion.

Past their closed state, a flash of light was the last thing you had thought. Bruised and beaten, your warm hand did not register how the ones you clung to... did not squeeze back.

...

The next time (e/c) orbs flew open their eyes the world felt that of a lucid dream, with silk of the cleanest white donned their body, and the softest breeze of a sweet flower you had not smelt passes by you. Teal orbs looked down at you with a gentleness you've felt from the artificial light from the cathedral. Speaking of- your eyes unfocused shifted its gaze to the light blue skies.

"You're... awake." Your bard friend breathed out in disbelief and another emotion your brain can't quite place. The cotton of clouds float above in painted beauty, and you had pried your sight away from it almost painfully just to spare your companion a look.

"It's..." your throat grated and ached at the attempt, coming out so weak and breathless, "It's very beautiful... out here, free... Have- have you gone to explore?" Your face twisted in numbing pain from talking, and the bard started to quiver yet stood strong with a smile.

"I had, it's - it's just like how we imagined, even better than we've taken for granted," wet spots adorned your cheeks in short successions, you couldn't help but smile. "I only wish you were there to see it first hand, the flowers, the sunsets, the land-"

"Yet I fell asleep," you laughed in mirth yet there was no sound that escaped. The grip around you tightens as you loll your head to the side; there lays a new city kissed by the huge orb of light in the blue veil of a sky, lush green grass of health you've never seen before shone with a moistness on it, and around its glory lays a beauty of a moat that mirrors the one above. Beautiful, you whispered under your long-awaited breathe.

"The people of Mond had done their best to rebuild, for the promise of freedom they had not wilt," a hand on your cheek, flawless, urged your gaze once more to lay upon the bard. "We've devised a festival to celebrate named Ludi Harpastum. Tell me... my muse, will you accompany me in this new custom?"

A new breeze had lulled you in your ears once again to sleep, and a flash of fear had passed over your companion's features before it dissipated when you opened your eyes once more. A festival, you haven't heard that in years, "I would love to. But maybe... tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow."

"Mhm, I feel tired... the sun invites me to sleep, will you wait for me tomorrow?"

"T-Tomorrow."

"Good." Your eyes were covered by darkness again as you felt a pressure against your forehead. "It's... a date..." And your tired heart finally found peace, after battling for 15 days restlessly, desperately.

Venti picked you up from where you laid on his lap, setting you down on the grass bed besides the giant roots of the Windrise tree. Nearest your left, a stone plate carved with words you never dare see lies next to you. And for the first time in fifteen days, a God cries again.

¹The green-tipped arrows were coated with poison.

²Reader's bow is designed after the Raven's Bow.

³Gale is not the bard's official name but was used to avoid too many confusion.

⁴This had a different, more painful and hatred alternate ending where you hated Venti for taking Gale's form, but I changed it so I could rest my own heart.

*in honor of your contribution to Mondstadt's freedom, the maiden who throws the Harpastum is made for your grace.

@boxofteenageideas @creation-magician @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #exile.flower #genshin impact Venti #venti #venti x reader #Bonafide specials #publish at midnight #genshin impact x reader #angst #female reader

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scarletooyoroi · 4 years ago

Note

"Hey baldy. You shine today. Care to share a few tips?"

Inuzuma’s eternal eminence found itself reaching a crescendo of change within these present moments. Entirely unwanted, entirely uninvited, for nary a single soul found the courage to even leave their humble wooden homes in lieu of the blight currently found itself heading through the streets. Wherever it went, it felt as if a mirror followed suite, allowing for one’s very soul to be reflected in the depths of someone who held their own brand of renown. Grown men were reduced to sniveling babies, shopkeepers didn’t hesitate to just slam their doors in people’s faces....

Exactly what could’ve prompted such an interesting reaction? Thoma for one, found himself clueless, figuring a future trip to either the Yashiro or Tenryou commissions were tantamount if there was any hope of solving this dilemma. Alas. Currently his attention was taken today and to fulfill the promises of those he deemed close always held a special candle.

This spirited housekeeper’s arrival literally could not be missed. As he approaches, it seems as if the orange-ish, periwinkle skies of this eternal land would find themselves upped in scale, nearing a ivory color while the surroundings instantly found themselves hotter. In fact, a few passerbys hadn’t hesitated in dropping their dango, horrified screams ripping free as one pair within the crowd’s eyes begin to smolder and smoke, literally frying inside of their skulls while they escaped.

Then arrived Thoma. Confusion fresh upon his features while raw iridescent ignited clear from his cleanly shaved head. The very Heavenly Principles were singing their due praises as finally, one of these humans found the true route to divinity unparalleled, light itself reigning so prominent that even the very golden gates of Celestia itself shuddered in possibility.

To think Barbatos here never failed in first finding the world shakers.

"Baldly? Don’t be silly- the soul of my hair is a never ending melody itself, flowing strong as we speak--”

“STOP, IN THE NAME OF THE LAW! AREN’T THOU-- OOH!?” Away from the conversation of these main characters, two police samurai had immediately stepped into the scene, only for horror befitting for the dark deities that plagued their land to be now utilized. Their blades! Just drawing their blades had been met with an instant counterattack! Just from the refractive properties of that bald head...

Their blades were proceeding to melt right from their hilts, resembling a substance closer to silver mercury compared to anything else.

As the jade eyed man took a moment to rub the side of his head, just the mere brush led to another odd phenomenon as the lights seemingly concentrated to a further pinpoint to a wider berth, alternating between nauseating levels of heat or minimized lasers so potent, that with a single touch, their heated fury caused nearby homes to immediately combust. Still, Thoma found these odd string of events to be oh so odd.

What exactly was happening with Inazuma now days?

“Anyways the name is Thoma! And how about we exchange hair care over some tea? If you’re looking for radiance..” Pride is clear within his expression before he squints towards the dear bard.

“Then I do believe I have some tips that’ll truly let your light ignite as well.”

@adularye

#adularye #| Tucked Letters #bald thoma tw #All my crack post deserves serious reponses #I hope you know that

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sneakerdoodle · 4 years ago

Text

"(Not) Alone", Chapter 2

Rated: K

Get some uhhhhhh friend times, winter outfits, background gays and existential crisis! Alternative summary:

"Miriam is like you're gonna' rummage through the contents of my heart? okay. what's in your drawers"

- @buttercup-bug <3 big thanks to them for their support and consultation too!!!!

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PDF || ff.net

General warnings: states potentially resembling a panic attack; moderately graphic metaphors, including mentions of drowning; familial tension

- This time I see where I'm flying, at least, - Miriam mutters, seemingly to herself.

Kiwi, fiddling with the strap of the bag hanging behind them, thinks back to Miriam's first and latest visit to Chismest. The flight there is hard to remember through the blur of pain they were in, but they can vaguely recall their friend complaining about the smog through coughing fits, as well as the jerking movements of the broom as she would aggressively rub her watering eyes.

Now, the skies above Chismest are clear, and the frosted trees below are sparkling in the sunlight. It is quieter, too, without the incessant thud of machines that would vibrate through the atmosphere in a low vague hum.

- Still too hecking cold, - Miriam grumbles and clenches her fists harder around the broom to get the blood flowing.

Bard readily leans closer in, sharing whatever body heat they can. Their cheek smooshes against Miriam's back, and the next words come out slightly muffled.

- You must be glad we're packed! Want me to get your cape?

Miriam shakes her head emphatically.

- Nope, thanks, no bag-rummaging in the air.

Kiwi nods slowly, looking past their dangling feet, down below, to the town's edge.

Miriam brings the broom to a bit of a rushed stop, and it hovers in the air, gently swaying up and down. Bard straightens, pulling away.

- Well, we're here. Where to? - Miriam's head is turned as she examines Bard's face, questioningly and with a hint of suspicion.

- Down! - he chirps nonchalantly. Miriam rolls her eyes.

- Thanks. Great tip. It's too early to go to the Observatory, so down where?

Bard contemplates, sinking a bit into their shoulders, and watches the town below. It's changed, a lot. The streets are lighter, and the people are moving through them at a much more of a leisurely pace. There seems to be no shame about being out and about during daytime, no one is in a hurry to get from one place to another. From somewhere below, they can even hear what sounds like faint, soft music.

Bard smiles timidly, entertaining the thought of actually having a good time in their hometown.

- Let's go on a tour!

They land at the outskirts, and Miriam shivers instinctively as the snow crunches under her foot. Bard immediately dives into the bag Saphy has lovingly packed for the two and pulls out a warm woven cape and a wide magenta scarf, presenting them to Miriam with a shining smile. She takes them from their hands, begrudgingly, as if having a body capable of getting cold is something to be self-conscious about. As soon as the cape rests on her shoulders, however, her expression softens into one of comfort and quiet content.

Bard follows her example and wraps a similar long shawl around their own shoulders. It's soothing, both with its warmth and weight, and they close their eyes for a second, sitting with the calm. A long hand-knitted striped scarf follows, and Kiwi feels the most equipped for the cold they can possibly be.

The bag is still heavy on their shoulder. They reach in and pull out a warm and pointy winter hat – and can almost hear Miriam's defenses coming right up. She looks at them with a determined frown, fight-ready.

- No.

- Aw, come on, Miriam! - they try not to smile too widely. - You should stay warm!!

Miriam stares at them in ferocious defiance, unblinking, for a good ten seconds. With a groan, she finally caves in, snatches the hat out of their hands and puts it on. Her face goes red with embarrassment, and she promptly looks away and pulls the scarf over her mouth.

Pulled on in a hurry, the hat sits on Miriam's head slightly sideways, with ruffled hair sticking out from under it and getting in the girl's face. She puts one messy lock away in a jerky motion, tucking it under an ear flap before crossing her arms and looking down at her feet. Bard watches in unconcealed endeared amusement.

- How come you don't get one, - Miriam blurts out, in a tone that implies that she does not expect much of an answer. With an annoyed sigh, she grabs Bard by the sleeve and heads towards the town.

- Not a word to Saphy.

Walking through the streets of Chismest is... strange, almost overwhelming. The town is unexpectedly loud, with the voices of its residents bouncing from one corner to another, sounding from the windows that used to barely ever open. The distant sounds of music Bard heard from up on the broom are closer now, creating an uncharacteristically melodic ambiance. And the weirdest of all, there is so much variety.

Beth's diner is inviting people in to try Katya's new pastry recipe. The Gift House is no more, replaced by a general store. Tanya stands in front of it, fixing a sign that reads: “Next island fruit shipment: TUESDAY, 12 PM”. She notices the two guests and waves at them before going back inside.

Johann is standing in front of the ex-factory building, frowning at the timetable of various workshops, community meetings and the Astronomy Board sessions, apparently figuring out a scheduling issue with Elmer: the lesson on identifying local plants seems to be encroaching onto the public presentation of his newest potential enterprise.

Miriam lingers under the very lantern she would spend her time by back when she and Bard visited Chismest together for the first time. She looks at the large building that used to house the endless deafening machines. It is still slightly shocking in how it looms over the rest of Chismest.

- ...Weird, - Miriam says after a while. Bard hums noncommittally. Miriam looks at them, impatient for a more engaged response. - Very weird, right? I'd only been there for a week, and it still freaks me out to be around this... thing. How are they all just, getting on with it???

Bard is quiet for a moment, unsure whether anything they have to say is worth voicing, but Miriam's gaze is insistent, so they give it a try.

- They're taking it back?.. I think... it's always been their town, and now they can sort of... take it back for themselves?

Put into words, the thought surprises them. They reflect on it for a moment. Is that the reason they still aren't keen on coming back, even after hearing all about the wonderful transformations Chismest has gone through? Maybe it's never been their town, they way it has been for all its other victims, all these other people that were hurt by it but never left. Has it.. always been a question of belonging? Not one of finding a better life?..

She is pulled back out of her thoughts by Miriam's skeptical hum. The girl shifts her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably a couple of times before asking, unsure:

- Do you... wanna go in?..

Kiwi hurriedly shakes her head, and Miriam lets out a sigh of relief.

- Yeah. Me neither.

They continue on their way, approaching the Clocktower Pub, which appears to be the source of music tinting the town views a subtle but cheerful color. In front of the pub, a group of people is gathered in front of a samovar in a seemingly passionate discussion. Among them, Bard recognizes Elara. Like everyone else around her, she is holding a steaming mug.

Boris splashes some of his tea as he swings his arm to make a point.

- Zere is enough coal, no? Nothing iz broken, so why fix?

Elara wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, still calm, but more ardent than Bard remembers her. Before she gets to make her defense, Miles chimes in with a tired groan.

- Yeah, well, the Lights are right there every year, so why the hell not.

- But ze expenses...

- Why not think of it as an investment... - Elara starts, before noticing the two visitors approaching the group. She blinks in surprise behind her glasses. - Oh! You're here already.

Kiwi smiles awkwardly while Miriam waves her hand, then demonstratively hugs her shoulders. The next moment, a mug of tea lands in her palms, expeditiously passed from hands to hands from where the samovar is sitting on a large wooden table. Miriam looks down at it in surprise, startled into her special sort of quietness, processing the simple and natural act of kindness.

- We arrived early! - Bard replies, smiling gratefully at Miles who hands them another mug. - Just walking around for now!

Elara nods slowly.

- This place has changed a lot, hasn't it?

Bard pulls their lips into a smile. For a moment their gaze lingers on Elara, thoughtful. It's so different, seeing her as a part of the community, freely sharing her practical solutions, engaging openly rather than conducting interventions from the margins. She fits right in.

- Well, Winston will be waiting for you in the evening. I hope to stop by as well.

She turns to Miriam, who's been quietly sipping her tea and looking at the group from over her mug.

- You're going to need to have a night's rest before heading back, aren't you? You are welcome to stay at the Observatory, if you would like.

Miriam chokes on the tea and coughs, her cheeks growing pink.

- Oh, - she croaks out, - no, I'm good. Uh. Thanks.

Elara nods.

- Well, let us know. Now, if you excuse me...

She turns back to the group, where Miles' eye rolls are starting to get dangerously expressive.

Miram finishes her tea in a bit of a hurry, circles around the gathering to place the mug on the table and slips away, seeming slightly overwhelmed by the hospitable treatment. Bard follows, waving goodbye to Elara and the rest.

They catch up to Miriam and look around absentmindedly, eyes gliding over the fronts of multi-storey buildings. Ahead, they catch a smudge of orange and red – and slow down. Miriam slows her pace, too, and follows his eyes to where flowers growing in front of the window of his childhood home are nodding their colorful heads to the faint music.

Miriam stops with a quiet sigh.

- Are you sure about it all? - she asks, with the emphasis that is only natural, considering she has already had to ask this question at least thrice.

Bard tears their eyes away from the flowers and turns to her. They take a few seconds, then nod.

- Yeah 🎶, - they sing, low and quiet, and fidget with their hands for a second before continuing: - Just... for a bit there, can you...

- ...Yeah. - Miriam rocks back on her heels for a moment, gearing herself up, then steps towards Kiwi and takes them by the hand. Her expression is nervous and awkward, but she musters a small reassuring squeeze. Bard feels slightly less alone. - Come on.

Bard's hand sits firmly in Miriam's as they sigh before knocking on the door; Miriam does not let go once they are already inside, either, waved in by Kiwi's Mom.

- Sit down, now! - Mom coos in her customary enthusiasm. - I will brew you some tea. Are you and your friend hungry, muffin? - before Kiwi can mumble anything vague in response, she continues: - I have the lunch all ready! Too bad your father is on one of his walks. - Mom shakes her head with that signature vocal laugh. - What a restless man he is!

Bard's sigh of relief is so resounding that for a moment, they are scared Mom will notice. Luckily, she seems too busy rummaging through the cabinets. They look at Miriam, reassured, and loosen their fingers. Miriam's hold persists, however. She gives them a serious, meaningful look, an “I'm here, okay? So don't be stupid” that she can't quite express with her words. Only then, she lets go, but does not break eye contact. Bard's gaze drops down to their feet as they take a second to internalize the sentiment. When they look back up, their smile is timid and grateful.

- Are you hungry? - they ask in a dramatic whisper. Miriam shrugs, then shakes her head. - Thanks, - Kiwi says to Mom, voice slightly strained, - I think we'll just... hang around!

- Nonsense! - she titters in response, turning around with a tray already holding a tea set. - At least have some tea with your old momma!

Bard gives Miriam an apologetic look. She seems downright agonized at the thought of forcing more hot beverages down her throat so soon.

The tea break is the appropriate amount of awkward. Mom asks Miriam about the life in Delphi and the everyday routines of an average witch household, and Miriam grumbles her replies while doing her best drinking impression. The ruse is up once Mom goes to pour everyone another round and discovers Miriam's cup about as full as it was at the start. After having a proper laugh about “that curious friend of yours, muffin”, she finally dismisses the two of them, saying it is time for her to take care of some chores.

Bard plops down on their bed and sighs. They look at Miriam with a sorry little smile. She is standing in the door, looking around the room with a perplexed expression.

- I've never been here before, - she notes, mistrustfully, somehow.

- Oh! I guess you haven't! - Bard looks around the bare walls and minimal furniture. It's not much.

Miriam seems to arrive at the same conclusion.

- Doesn't seem like you, - she says, poking a bouquet of dried flowers.

- There used to be more, - Kiwi mumbles absentmindedly, resting their chin on their hand. - Miriam!! - they gasp with a jump as their friend throws one of the drawers of the bedside table open. Miram stumbles backwards, startled.

- Yeesh, sorry. I thought you weren't one for personal boundaries??

Bard sits with this fair observation for a moment, processing their own hypocrisy.

- W... well--

- I'm not pushing or anything, - Miriam grumbles, - just... surprised you're familiar with the concept.

Bard shrugs and hums an awkward inconclusive sound. They look over to the open drawer and shuffle closer to it to see what is inside. Miriam pointedly looks at the wall in a demonstration of her respect for Kiwi's personal space.

At the bottom of the drawer, there is a handful of crayons and an old notebook. They pick it up and leaf through it, an array of colorful drawings flickering in a quick succession. All the bright fantasies of their childhood are momentarily revived before them. A small smile tugs at the corners of Bard's mouth.

They linger on one page and giggle, then open the notebook wide and hold it in front of them, demonstrating. Miriam looks over and arches her brow.

- What am I looking at exactly?

- Me!, - Bard helpfully supplies. - As a witch 🎶.

And that is exactly what the drawing depicts. A younger version of them, with a different hairstyle, in a pose resembling an overexcited starfish, clad in dramatic dark robes and a pointy hat with a big glowing star on it.

Miriam stares for a good few seconds.

-....why.

- Because witches are cool!! - Kiwi exclaims, without a shred of sarcasm. The skeptic look on Miriam's face deepens. She squints at the drawing.

- Is... - she snorts, - ...is your hair pink?

Bard cracks up again, and Miriam shortly follows, the two dissolving into a duet of giggles.

Kiwi pats the space next to them, and his friend joins, looking over his shoulder at the series of doodles detailing Witch-Bard's magical adventures.

Hours pass effortlessly, in joint reminiscing, daydreaming and doodling.

***

- ...and once you're all set and sure of where it's pointing relatively to, uh, the Anchor, you use the finder to, well, find things!

Winston pauses his slightly nervous chirping and looks at his audience comprised of Miriam, struck into overwhelmed silence, and Bard, who is otherwise occupied.

- Did... did you get any of that? - Winston inquires with the same frantic smile.

Noticing the break in the background noise of thorough astronomical instructions, Bard finally looks up from giving Berry all of the most loving pets in the world – to see Miriam looking at them in quiet despair. Reading the look of blissful unawareness on her friend's face, she sighs.

- Can't you, like... write it all down or something??

Winston nods hurriedly, already on his way to the desk. From the looks of it, he has pretty much moved into the observatory full time, and happily. Bard watches him stick his hands into the pockets of the labcoat and make it flap against his legs, for about the tenth time in the past hour. They wonder why an astronomer would need a labcoat. Do they have to get one too?

Miriam walks over to Kiwi and watches glumly as they scratch Berry behind her ear.

- Aren't you excited? - Bard asks, noting the moody energy. Miriam hums in uncertainty.

- Just... - she gives another annoyed sigh and kicks the floor with the pointy toe of her boot. - Nothing. - She crosses her arms and averts her eyes, then finally shares in a low, muffled voice: - ...hate feeling stupid.

Bard looks up, blinking in surprise.

- You're not!! You know so many awesome things, Miriam!

She stands there silently for a few seconds, before crouching next to them. Bard readily scooches over.

Miriam slowly, nervously extends her hand towards Berry. Their four-legged friend sniffs the tips of Miriam's fingers before lovingly sticking her nose into the girl's palm and wagging her tail. Miriam exhales in relief and gives Berry a few slow, focused pets.

- Thanks. - There is another pause as she struggles with the words for a bit. - We're... gonna try together, yeah?

Bard flashes an enthusiastic smile.

- Yeah! 🎶

- ...Okay, - Miriam does not look away from the dog, who is leaning into the touch with half-lidded eyes. - Then… don't make me figure it all out on my own, - she continues in a more casual grumble. - Don't hang around here for too long.

Bard nods slowly, turning away from Miriam, back to where Berry has dissolved into a euphoric puddle.

- I... won't.

Winston returns with a small stack of papers scribbled over with a frantic hand and awkwardly shoves them in Miriam's vague direction. She just barely manages to get back up on her feet and not lose balance as the paper tumbles into her arms. Winston hurriedly withdraws, slapping his arms along his body, and laughs nervously as Miriam disgruntledly tries to keep the pages from raining all over the floor.

- Uhm, - Winston fiddles with his hands and avoids Bard's eyes when she looks up, questioning. - Is it... just you?.. I mean, joining the project...

- There are many!! - Kiwi rests their chin in their hand, thinking back to Delphi and recounting everyone who seemed excited about the arrival of the telescope. - Ryan and Mitzi, so Dani as well, Lena, Fredrick, Whit...

- Shockingly, - Miriam mutters from where she is still fussing with the instructions, trying to fit them into the overpacked bag. Bard shoots her a scandalized look, a trained non-verbal substitute for “Miriam, be nice!!”.

Winston marks each mentioned name with a nod, a wide thin-lipped smile on his face.

- I... don't know who any of these people are, - he concludes, finally, before turning away and marching back over to his desk. There seems to be a glimmer of genuine joy in his embarrassment, however. Bard thinks back to Elara's letter, inviting them to become a part of the mapping initiative.

“I would be proud to take credit for the project, were it actually mine. Winston is, undoubtedly, the heart of the operation. I told him his conception of it was outstanding - he seemed equally hopeful and horrified. I think he'd take great pleasure in that: making this sort of connection with so many new people. Finding... cohorts, if you will”.

Once the last final glare of sunshine dissipates completely, Winston invites his guests over to the observation deck, the telescope in tow. Kiwi and Miriam fumble with the stand under his fretful watch, but manage to fix the apparatus in place without breaking anything. Winston points out the Anchor star, once again, and fixes the telescope on it.

- Try the finder first, then--

- Yeah, yeah, - Miriam hurries to interrupt, and Bard catches the familiar notes of embarrassment in her voice. They gently bump their shoulder against hers in silent support. Miriam draws a steadying breath. - ...I think we got it. Uh, thanks.

She looks over at Bard, quietly tilting her head towards the telescope in invitation. They light up and step towards it, holding their breath. The most beautiful colors bloom in their mind, inspired by all the magical stellar landscapes pictured on the walls of the observatory. What will be the first shade of the whole rest of the Universe that they will see?

Bard puts their eye straight to the eyepiece (Winston whimpers somewhere out of view, forcibly choking the word ''finder'' back). They squint, trying to make anything out in the blur.

- Well?? - Miriam asks, antsy.

- Iiiii don't see anything! - Bard replies, hoping their disappointment is not too apparent in how hollow their usual casual tone comes out.

From the sounds of it, Winston is on the verge of unraveling as he is trying desperately to let the two figure things out on their own.

Miriam groans.

- Stupid overcomplicated glass tubes... Let me... - she steps towards the telescope cautiously, like it is a wild animal, and stares at it for a while. Then reaches for one of the lenses lined up at the end and moves it out of the way with an unsteady hand, looking deeply unsure and skeptical.

- Try now?..

Bard puts their eye back to the glass, trying really hard to not get their hopes up.

- Miriam, - they utter under their breath, - come look.

Through the lens of the telescope, they are seeing another world. It is distant, silent, seemingly unmoving. And yet, in the swirling pattern of stardust, they sense a spiraling dance, sweeping their soul away with it.

Pure, awe-struck exhilaration rises in their chest, all but bringing them to tears in a sudden crescendo – when suddenly, they feel their heart drop, endlessly, like it is hurtling through the dark suffocation of space surrounding the twirling stars.

The arms of the spiral galaxy, its overpowering gravity, remind them of the dark pull of the black hole at the end of time. And no matter how hard they try not to think about it, they know exactly what lies on the other side.

Bard all but jumps away from the telescope and stumbles backwards, instinctively throwing their hands up in front of them in a protective gesture. The familiar despair laps at her heart, and suddenly she feels so hopeless she could cry.

- Kiwi??

Bard blinks a couple of times and turns to Miriam, who is giving them the most concerned look they have ever gotten from her. Winston is hovering behind her, not even trying to conceal his panic.

Miriam steps towards them gingerly.

- Are you okay??

Kiwi draws a breath and tries to straighten himself up.

- I, uh... - they look at their feet, struggling to find any words that would sound at all plausible. But this time, they can hardly even convince themself to brush the overwhelming feeling off as unimportant, as their trained impulse commands.

Miriam takes another step and reaches for them, then freezes. She throws a quick self-conscious glance at Winston, one breath away from shriveling up. Winston seems to take it as a hint.

- Umm, I'll!!.. - he fumbles with his hands for a second before sharply turning around and marching over to the exit without another word, to descend back into the observatory.

Miriam remains frozen in place, stubbornly inspecting the patch of grate floor beneath her feet, until Winston's steps fade away; then throws her head up, looking at Kiwi with a concerned frown.

- What was that??

Bard looks down at the floor, uncertain, as if the needed words were scattered all around it in a chaotic pattern.

Miriam opens her mouth, seemingly preparing to speak again, but no words follow. She stops trying to catch Kiwi's eyes and lowers her own, crossing her arms.

Bard looks up to see her face overshadowed by a disheartened, lonely, distant expression, and feels a tug at their heart. Perhaps... Perhaps it's worth trying to talk about.

They lower themself to the floor, back leaning against the dome, and sigh shakily.

- Do you... do you ever get... scared?..

Miriam looks up, still lost, but apprehensively open.

- Like... in general?

Kiwi looks at their hands resting on top of the knees for a moment, trying to figure out what they are attempting to share.

- Of... the world, I think. Or... the universe... - they cross their arms and hold their shoulders. - How it's... really big.

Miriam's posture loosens and softens. She sits down next to Kiwi, hugging her knees, and looks at them expectantly.

Bard goes on.

- It's alright if there are a lot of people, - they're not sure this makes sense, but it's hard to talk about as it is, so they just let themself continue, - 'cause then together, you are something big enough? But if it's just you..., - they feel their mouth go dry and their body tense up with adrenaline, the vivid, unraveling sensations of the recent nights creeping up from the back of their mind. They swallow, hard, and grip their shoulders.

Miriam is silent for a good while.

- ...It's not, though, is it? Just you?..

Kiwi looks over to see her staring in front of herself with a concentrated, contemplative frown. Her words are coming out labored and strained, like she is unhappy with having to actually say them out loud.

Miriam's head sinks into her shoulders, just slightly, and her fists clench, before she speaks again, sounding almost fearful to assume:

- We're figuring it out together?..

Bard feels a crack at their heart, stinging and painful, breaking them away from the deep cold despair that's been filling it with steady certainty. They never meant to imply that Miriam's friendship is anything other than cherished, and comforting in every possible way.

- We are! - their smile comes out pensive, but somehow rejuvenating still, just like the fresh crack in their chest. He leans against Miriam's shoulder. - It's just.. - they take a second, trying to nail down the core of the overwhelming feeling that's been haunting them for the last couple of weeks, - what if we weren't?..

It's surprisingly hard to articulate what exactly is making Kiwi freeze with terror every night. This weird incessant pull, somewhere out of life, as if some part of them is trailing behind, threatening to bring them down with it, to drown them. Like some immeasurable weight their limbs are getting too numb to carry, slowing them down, making their legs give off, while everything else effortlessly speeds forward. They cannot find any context or explanation for it – not one they are ready to face, anyway. All they have is this overwhelming, overpowering, incomprehensible fear. What if they get left behind?

Miriam sits with the idea, silently. Her expression is difficult to read, but for a moment, Kiwi seems to catch a glisten in her eyes, and feels immeasurably guilty. They don't get to express their concern, though, before Miriam speaks up again.

- I... do get scared, - she takes a deeper breath, - of... being alone. Again. But I'm not. - The last words come out almost stubborn, like Miriam is arguing with a naysayer. - Things are changing, right?.. It... doesn't have to be the same.

Kiwi holds that thought: “Doesn't have to be the same”. They try to take comfort in it. A distant, neglected part of their heart aches and squirms at it, like a disturbed wound.

Doesn't matter. This can change. Everything else is.

The two sit in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder, each rocked by their own waves of chilling thoughts. But – Bard has to remind themself – not alone. They are not alone.

- The stars are really cool, - they say quietly, with a small, meek smile. Miriam looks at them, glum and questioning. - You should try the telescope!

- ...Nah, - their friend replies after a moment of contemplation. - Whatever. - She rocks back and forth a couple of times in uncertainty before carefully suggesting: - ...Wanna go back inside?

Bard nods slowly.

- Maybe... in a moment?

Miriam wordlessly settles back in. Kiwi closes their eyes and leans heavier into the touch, focusing fully on the warmth of their friend's arm against their own, holding onto that feeling with everything they have.

They bring the telescope inside with them, already dismantled, and pack it into layers upon layers of protective wrapping with Winston's help. It is then hoisted up on Miriam's broom as she floats a couple of feet above ground, testing out if it would be possible to carry the instrument on her own.

Miriam slowly lowers the telescope to the ground and hops off.

- Should be fine?? - she says nervously, which does not at all reassure the sweaty and frantic novice astronomer. Winston gives her a shaky smile, nonetheless.

- Great! - he croaks out and rushes to change the subject. - Um!! If you're not in a hurry, Peter is coming over soon?? I thought it... might be good... - he trails off, looking at his guests in a silent plea to interpret the rest of the sentence on their own.

Bard and Miriam exchange glances. Bard certainly is not itching to go back to their Mom's... parents', home, and his friend does not seem to, either. Kiwi looks back at Winston and nods excitedly.

- Sounds great!! 🎶

Peter shows up about half an hour later, bringing his balalaika and, quite unexpectedly, a fruit basket. As Kiwi tries to process the dissonance between his ever-melancholic demeanor and the colorful bow on the basket's handle, Peter seems to be processing the presence of anyone but Winston at their meeting place. It doesn't take him too long, though. He silently hands Winston the gift, then turns to greet the two ex-co-saboteurs.

He shares a mutually awkward but overall amicable handshake with Miriam, then moves on to Bard and startles them once again, by putting a hand on their shoulder and sighing meaningfully.

- It is good to not be the only person of musical nature around here, - he shares. - I'm sure you are familiar with the longing.

- Sure! - Kiwi chirps out with a smile, not even trying to parse this.

The four of them settle down at the center of the large domed room, right on the floor, and Berry excitedly joins them, curling up between Winston and Miriam. The group passes the fruit basket around and shares the news from the last couple of months.

- Chismest is a changed place, - Peter shares solemnly while pulling apart a peeled orange. - People are no longer weighed down by the chains of numbing, thankless labour. We are finding joy in communal connection and personal power, once again. The need for manufacturable happiness substitutes is no more.

- Cool! - Bard looks at the small fuzzy kiwi fruit in their palms and considers the implications of eating it. - Langtree is sort of haunted now!

Winston produces a vague high-pitched sound in reaction to that, like a choking questioning laugh.

- Well, there were ghosts there before, - Bard readily elaborates, - because they were worried about their families before the... – a cold wave of terror washes over their heart, once again, at the thought of the end of their old universe, and they gulp, as subtly as they can, -...the world almost ending. And they did return to the Spirit World, at the end, but we can contact them through the songs they've left behind! And some of them just visit on their own. Mary always follows Woody around, so I guess... it's Woody who is sort of haunted now?

The room is silent, for a bit. Miriam absentmindedly nods along to the familiar story while picking berries out of her hand, and Winston and Peter are processing the mound of new information. At last, Peter nods wistfully.

- The world is healing at large, - he pronounces, chewing on an orange slice. - People are finding more ways to forge unbreakable bonds with those they meet and those they've lost. It fills me with great hope. I had to express it in a song, - he throws a somber, mournful look around the room, - it is in B major.

Peter strikes the first chord on his balalaika and closes his eyes, swaying slowly back and forth. Kiwi feels the familiar fizzy excitement of a life performance bubble up in her chest – along with a slight prick of jealousy: he never did get around to learning any instrument.

Peter continues his playing, the sound climbing up and up, reaching for some beautiful, exhilarating future that now, for the first time in many long years, seems to be just around the corner. The energy is moving and contagious, the waving melody pushing Kiwi's heart closer and closer to this sensation of unbounded hopeful anticipation with every strike against the strings.

Peter starts harmonizing, his melancholic voice blending with the movement of the music in paradoxical, enchanting ways. Winston joins in, his voice high and nervous, but bustling with genuine restless joy. For a while, it is just the two of them, singing their hopes and prayers for what tomorrow brings. They share a glance and smile at each other, a brief, shy moment.

Miriam, who's been nodding off for a while, is swaying softly to the rise and fall of the symphony with her eyes closed, hugging her knees. Then, there is a soft, unexpected sound as she quietly joins the harmonies, her voice gentle and raspy, as if she is simply muttering in her sleep. There is a small, hesitating smile on her face, lurking behind the hair falling in front of it, but visible enough from where Kiwi is sitting.

Miriam opens her eyes, leaving them half-lidded; her voice grows slightly louder. She looks over at Bard – and stops, the now so familiar confused, vaguely concerned frown setting in.

The sudden interruption on her part draws the attention of the other two, and now the whole room is looking at where Bard is sitting, back straight, extremely tense and hyper-aware of not having sung a single note.

There is a moment of deafening, unnerving silence as Peter stops playing.

Kiwi feels short of air.

They must look really pathetic, because the next moment, the music picks up again, mercifully, although without the same sort of blissful absorption. Winston and Peter return to singing between the two of them, as if conjuring an invisible screen for Miriam and Bard to communicate on the other side of. Miriam continues looking at Kiwi, concern growing deeper, grumpier.

Bard casts their eyes down and takes a shaky breath.

There is shuffling next to them, and suddenly they feel Miriam's hand on their own. They meet her questioning look once again, but she promptly averts her eyes, already feeling awkward. Instead, she squeezes their palm harder, passing on a bit of a reassurance.

They sit in silence for a while, one hand holding another firmly, until the song passes the bridge and returns to the final repetition of the chorus. Bard looks up at Miriam, and she looks at them. They find silent agreement in each other's eyes, and just as the first note of the chorus is about to break, they draw a synchronized breath and join in.

Bard's voice is quiet and unsure, and so is Miriam's, and there is comfort in that. It feels like mutual acknowledgment of something Kiwi isn't quite ready to put into words. And it's different from the high-spirited call of the song, but it belongs. And with every note shared in a low-key, tentative voice between the two, Bard feels a bit more secure.

The melody draws the two of them in once again, gradually and insistently, and at the end of the chorus, their voices sound firmer, brighter, conceiving of the same reassuring promise. The final note rings in the air, and the company shares a moment of sweet, comfortable, inspired silence. Then, without a word, Peter strikes the strings again.

The second time around, all four of them sing from start to end. Kiwi gives Miriam a grateful, timid smile. They settle into a comfortable volume, audible but private enough. There is still a slight tremor to it, and from time to time, it tumbles down, missing the high upbeat note. But Bard tries to find relief in the comfortable unity the group is sharing, and the others seem willing to accommodate. Through all the self-consciousness and hesitation, and the deep underlying fear of what it means to struggle with something so natural, Bard tries to focus on the swelling of the music, and lets it carry them wherever it wishes.

The door to the Observatory opens in the middle of the song, letting in the cold night air and Elara, looking tired but distinctly happy. She lingers at the entrance, taking the sound in, then slips past the group into her room, as quietly as she can - but leaves the door just slightly ajar.

Here and now, everything is alright.

***

It's like being dragged on a hook wedged deep into your heart. Your tired, aching heart, endlessly bleeding out into the nothingness around you.

The world is twirling in a symphony of color and sound, somewhere else, somewhere ahead, somewhere that exists. Somewhere with space to soar through in its triumphant spiraling dance.

It is a state you can never reach again. You are expulsed, empty, broken. The world chose light and movement. It chose to leave you far behind. The weight of you was never significant enough to make it reconsider its trajectory.

You were never significant enough to stay around for.

It's a cruel joke, to still sense it, constantly, hurled through space and time you are left on the outside of. The proverbial hook sits firmly in your beating flesh. Every turn of the unfathomable planet indulging in its endless dance out of sight, out of any conception to your lost, isolated mind, is another tug on your pulsing wound. Each of them reminds you of the life that goes on without you.

The elusive, torturous link drags you along, like an endless drawing punishment. You resent it for leading you on. Why keep any illusion of connection when you have already been severed, irredeemably, tossed aside like a rotten part threatening the whole? Why tether you to the existence that is no longer yours, if not to take sick pleasure in giving you false hope, and watch you agonize over every movement of the vital dance far beyond?

Life is malicious. It did not simply choose to leave you behind. It decided to never let you forget.

You're not giving it the satisfaction of making you hope. It will have to learn that you were never foolish enough to believe, even for a moment, that you are not alone.

***

Kiwi wakes up with a start and bolts upwards, hand at their chest, gripping the fabric of their pajamas. They are short of breath. Again.

Desperately wading through the panic flooding their brain, they attempt a breath, waiting for the tightness in their chest to soften and recede, bit by bit, letting her steady her heartbeat. Once they can fill their lungs again, they breathe in, deep, and pull their knees up to their chest to hide their face in.

The panic fades, leaving them one on one with the dull, isolating desperation. It sits at the center of their being, patient, waiting for them to turn their attention to it. And Kiwi tries his very best not to, but it's there, time after time.

They look up to where Miriam is asleep on the opposite end of the couch, her knees tucked up to her torso. She looks grumpy, even now – perhaps because Bard had straightened their legs in their sleep, again, not leaving her with much space to get comfortable. Or it might be the blanket that has fallen to the floor, leaving her open to the chilly atmosphere of a Chismest night.

Kiwi slides off the couch, as lightly and quietly as she can, and walks over to the fuzzy woven quilt. They pick it up and hold it in their hands for a moment. It's about as old as them, and worn, and the hastily mended patches look glaringly out of place even in the heavily dispersed light. Bard covers Miriam, as slowly and gently as possible, and hopes the threadbare blanket is enough to keep her warm.

They shrivel and hug themself, staying still for a moment, in the dark and quiet. Or... partial quiet. From their, parents', room, they can hear the quiet cooing that immediately transports them to their childhood, and the many sleepless nights spent with Mom peacefully dozing behind the closed door. Tonight, she is joined by deep, mighty sighs and an occasional cough, uncannily close to jingling chimes. Kiwi isn't sure they will be able to fall asleep again, with the new addition disrupting the more familiar ambiance.

She looks over her shoulder, to the window, behind which the colorful flowers are gently bobbing their heads in the quiet wind. That is familiar, at least. A splotch of color in the dark northern night, as she stands alone, barefoot, cold, feeling inexplicably lonely.

Bard leans into the familiar sensation of rough floorboards under their soles as they quietly make their way to the window. He climbs up onto the chair pushed against it and gently presses his hand against the frame. It opens, letting a gust of crisp fresh air in. Bard takes a deep breath, hoping the night chill sobers them up, soothes them, yanks them out of this quicksand of weird, confusing feelings.

The night tastes so disorientingly different. Breathing is easier than it has ever been around these parts, with the once ever-present tint of soot gone and all but forgotten. The air is pure and sweet, and the flowers blooming in it are shining brighter than ever.

Bard looks at them with distant eyes, feeling herself sink deeper into the sand. Their defiant colors used to be a source of greatest comfort. The many nights spent at the window, leaning onto the ceiling and looking out, endlessly waiting, passed easier with the company of the resilient blooms, still joyful and bright in this cold, suffocating place. When the flowers responded to Kiwi's song with a play of color, a new nightly routine took root. Bard barely thought about the wait, anymore. It was about the shimmering petals, the glow in the dark night saturated with smog, and the promise of greener pastures somewhere far away. It was a promise of a different place, full of sun and nature and song, where the world would respond to the melody of their heart.

Chismest is that place, now. Its own brand of it, and definitely falling behind Langtree when it came to daytime hours, but renewed, and welcoming, and singing. A redeemed and reclaimed environment, no longer poisoning all life it gives home to. And the flowers at their Mother's windowsill seem to celebrate that with every fiber, unfolding proudly and happily to drink in the fresh clean air. The world has changed for the better, and they healed alongside it, naturally, as its inalienable part.

...Can Bard still do the same?

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Just a simple song. One sweet song to share with their long-term friends, to join in on the celebration.

Bard exhales a note, low and soft as to not wake Miriam up, feeling around for the melody they sang not so long ago: Peter's new piece. Just as earlier, they are stumbling over the notes, which feel clumsy and wrong in their chest, like a puzzle piece that is being forced into a misshapen hole. But perhaps, that is okay, Bard reassures themself. It doesn't have to be perfect. It has always been enough to just sing from their heart.

They open one eye, fearfully, their face scrunched up into an apprehensive cringe.

The color does not shift even a shade. Notes fall flat onto the petals, not one of them moved even in the slightest.

Bard lets the song die away once their breath is exhausted. They look at the flowers, endlessly lost, searching for any hint of an answer. What had to even happen to take something so natural away from them? What could they possibly have lost?..

Something scary crawls up to the forefront of his mind, replacing the vaguely panicked confusion with a feeling of cold doom. He could try singing differently. He could sound the notes that have been ringing in his ear the past weeks.

Kiwi breathes deep. Singing the song would mean... something. Something big. It almost feels like on the other side of it, they might stop recognizing themself. But... if this is the only one they have left--

Over on the couch, Miriam grumbles in her sleep and fusses under the blanket, disturbed by the cold night air. Kiwi hurriedly pushes the window shut. Their friend settles a few seconds later, burrowing deeper under the warm cover.

Bard sighs and throws one final dejected glance at the unresponsive flowers on the other side of the glass. They curl up in the chair and hold themself tight for the rest of the night.

#wandersong #kiwi wandersong #the bard wandersong #there are also #miriam wandersong #winston wandersong #peter wandersong #elara wandersong #and co : )#(not) alone #my writing

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ruorelabrealis · 4 years ago

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Behold the xiaoven oneshot I impulsively wrote without a title;

Notes: I didn't revise this yet so criticize if you must. This ship will be the end of me one day.

He really doesn't want to fight Venti. Xiao thinks as he waits in the room below the stadium, hearing the crowd cheer aa the last battle's winner is declared.

He spends like last seconds before stepping out for the next battle composing himself.

Venti, the Anemo Archon, Xiao knows, is the same boy who plays beautiful melodies on his flute and makes flower crowns for the village children. Just the thought if him beaten up is enough to make Xiao grimace slightly.

Still, He can't let Rex Lapis' name be tarnished just because he would pity this certain bard if he'd see wounded, beaten up, green clothes torn, hair in a mess... He sighs.

He doesn't know the reason why Rex Lapis was so eager to participate in this Mondstadtian event. All he knows is that he is to dutifully follow his every command. This one isn't an exception.

If he thinks about it Rex Lapis has given him far worse requests than this. This wasn't even a big deal.. supposedly. If only he hadn't heard that bard's tune that night.

The huge cage-like door that divides Xiao from the main arena opens, snaps Xiao away from his brooding, and a duplicate of it does the same on the other side.

Across the even grounds of dirt and dust he sees the familiar shades of aqua blue braids and how the wind violently thrashes with the white cecilia kept on his hair and the white hood at the back. Venti is... not wearing his usual attire. This must be the stuff he wears as an archon, Xiao concludes as he assesses the silk garments and flamboyant gold linnings.

He can almost feel it, the smile coming from that direction.

Meanwhile Xiao narrows his eyes at the figure, pulling out his spear and warily stepping half an inch forward when he sees that the other does not draw a weapon.

When the two step out where the shadows no longer proon over them and into the sunlight making it's declaration under the absence of a roof above the battle field.

The crowd's cheers louden. Many cheering for Mondstadt as they were on it's grounds. Familiar faces looking down upon Xiao which he does not need to look back at to know who. They're assessing him.

He could feel the thrill of excitement vibrating from the stands and how Xiao hates being in the spotlight.

The crowd's screams soften into doubtful murmurs when they take in the sight of the Xiao's oponent. What is a mere bard doing battling a skilled adeptus? they must be thinking.

"Boy, get out of there!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"This is boring we have a clear winner already"

Such idiots they were, Xiao thought. Although he could not really put the blame on them, only few knew of the bard's true identity and those who did either gasp or have a solemn line on their lips.

Against the growing protests and remarks of doubt amongst the people, Venti only grins wider. The mischief never leaving his eyes.

"Xiao, Conquerer of demons, Mighty Yaksha!" Xiao cringes at the call of his name, "versus... Venti.." The anouncer declares with lack of climatic rise at the last part.

"That's my name" He hears the boy chuckle from afar. "So dear adeptus, shall we start?"

Venti's stance is slovenly, showing no conduct of offense or defense. Xiao's grip on his spear tightens. Hesitation begins to flood his senses voices saying 'Him too?' 'No more' He inores them all eyes shut.

He trudges forward with his spear swiftly. The attack is quickly evaded with a burst of wind. Xiao might admit it wasn't his most precise attack but it was one nonetheless and he can't help but feel a gush of relief that it was dodgable.

"How rude, surely we must start with proper introductions, even if we are in a battle field," Venti says after finding his footing, placing his hands on his hips.

"So, who shall go first?"

"I know who you are," Xiao says, they are now on the opposite sides of where they had started.

That statement was meant to cut this conversation short but Venti only beams in pride, "My my how delighted I am that the breeze had blown my name to Liyue. Shall i sign a poster for you?"

"You can drop the act or I'll tell them your true identity right here right now," Xiao says knowing that thr winds would shield the audience from picking up this conversation.

"You wouldn't." Venti challenged. Xiao attempts another front attack with his spear that is evaded again. And another right after that pointing to Venti's head, he ducks.

"Hmph fine, so you already know who I am, What about you then? Do I know you?" Venti says after avoiding all of Xiao's plays.

His patience is wearing away. "Xiao. loyal server of Rex Lapis, yaksha. The announcer told everyone earlier, maybe you were too caught up in presenting yourself to hear."

Venti disregards the remark and frowns, "Your telling me about the warrior, the one who follows commands, I'm not asking for him. I'm asking about you. I want to know who Xiao is."

Xiao beginning to get more frustrated by the constant philosophical sentennces, only ignored that comment and lands another attack only rougher.

"Don't tell me you don't know who he is?" Venti questions after multiple dodges.

Xiao stares dumbfoundedly, spear pointed at the other boy's chest. A meter away from peircing through. "Ofcourse I know who I am,"

"Do you really?"

He stays silent at that and the other boy only frowns more.

"Enough chit chat we want to see action!" A random voice shouts from the crowd. "Yeah!" And a chime of voices agree.

"Alright alright" Venti rolls his eyes at whatever direction, "It seems we have to cut our introductions short, my apologies,"

"No apologies needed." He had opted to make this quick, fewer riddles to think about would help in that matter.

At one point, Xiao notices the crowd getting evidently used to their battle pattern. Attack, Dodge, Attack, Dodge. That was all that was ever seen. Venti never went on an offensive and that was all Xiao did. Neither ran out of stamina.

At one point it's the hundredth or so attack Xiao lands, when the sunny skies suddenly blink to night. Cheering was replaced by the familiar sound of the Dihua flute. And Venti's armour flickers to the green clad attire he normally wears.

When Xiao blinks the world goes back to normal and he realizes that his spear is an inch away from the other boy. He staggers on his feet, aim clumsly redirecting to the empty space beside him.

In the crowd's eyes it looked like Venti has yet again dodged Xiao's attack but those in the battle field could clearly tell that Xiao made a mistake. Venti sees this.

He makes a step forward to the recovering adeptus. "If you have no plan on fighting you should declare a defeat now before time runs out."

"I won't let down Morax's name" Xiao replies, though it, too, sounded to him that he was desperately convincing himself rather than the archon.

Xiao was about to land another attack when the Archon begins drawing out a bow from wherever it came from and shoots Anemo embedded arrows.

Xiao doesn't dodge, he doesn't need to, the arrows are shooting right past him forming a circle with him being it's center.

Is the Anemo Archon belittling him? He was about to ask just so when a bursts of air coming from every direction where the arrows were shot shakes the arena resulting in a cloud of dust in the battlefield.

A smoke screen, he realizes. Had this been his plan all along? The other boy could no longer be seen admist the fog of brown dust and Xiao is ready to defend himself from all attacks he might pull.

What he wasn't ready for was the Archon's body slamming against his, both of them fall on the ground. Venti is ontop of him, pinning both of his arms to the floor. Shit he was caught off guard.

Despite his feeble form the boy's grip manages to keep Xiao pinned to the ground. Had he used less energy than this Xiao would've successfully broken free.

"What makes you think I'd hurt you?" The Archon asks out of nowhere as Xiao struggles to move. Wrong question to ask really, to an adeptus whose been in bloodshed for as long as he knew.

"Get off," He warns.

"I'm sorry, this will only be painful for a little bit," Venti apologizes, to his surprise, looking genuine despite his micheivous demeanour. He bends down to the point where Xiao can't see anything but the bright glow of blue eyes fading to green.

Venti's lips touch his own. Xiao lets out a burst of surprise from the sudden act.

He tries to ignore the alarming amount of heat creeping upon his cheeks as he attempts in breaking their contact.

But then he softens, and how he curses himself for it. He closes his eyes and melts into the other boy's kiss.

As the kiss goes on longer the more his grip is lossening on his spear, the more of his struggling to get out of Venti's hold and protests in his mind die down.

Until he feels Venti pull away and refuses to meet his eyes.

As the other boy's eyes seem to light up, literally, and he can see the reflection of his own glow. He feels a gush of air arise in his viens and flows everywhere throughout his body.

Despite what Venti had said, it isn't painful at all, he notices, only a tad uncomfortable. It's like getting a vaccine shot.

As the unknown gas stems to his inner organs, all the hidden tension in his body completely slips away. He feels numb but the voices in his head disappear. He can no longer move, he can't feel his fingers, legs or anything for that matter.

Then suddenly he remembers Zhongli saying "Acharis Demeanti, An ancient spell only to be used by archons. Causes the victim to be rendered immobile by the touch of an Archon's lips"

He is left there lying on the ground by his spear as Venti walks away. He looks at the clouds that pass by as he remains still.

The cloud of dust that was surrounding them dissipates as a burst of anemo energy is shot out of the boy's hands. Venti stands there, hand on his hips and the other stretched out to wave as the crowds cheer.

"Venti wins!"

Some look to be in confusion. And the millions of murmurs about what could've happened within the vision obstructing cloud of dust that made the strongest adeptus lose.

I'm sorry, he thinks as he sees Zhongli frown from the corners of his eyes.

"Drink this," Venti comes into his view a moment later, looking down so that Xiao could see him. He places a bottle of bright blue liquid onto Xiao's open palm and winks before he's out of sight.

Minutes later when he feels that he can move his fingers enough. He plays with the small glass bottle in his hands and feels the anemo energy stored inside it.

This could be another trick, he ponders. But would Venti be the type to pull another stunt right after a battle. After consideration, he gulps it. It tastes like... Dandelion wine?

Whatever witch brew that was, The trance he was in completely fades as he stands up and leaves the open arena.

"Rex La– Zhongli, my apologies.." He says, guilt rising from his stomach, as they walk out of the stadium amongst the crowd.

Zhongli waves it off. "There is no need for that, I'm not mad" It's hard to tell, he has that same stoic expression. "We should've known he'd pull a trick like that,"

"But"

"You were rendered uncapable of continuing the fight because of his spell, were you not? It isn't anything to apologize about" Zhongli questions.

That only made Xiao feel even worse, for his grip on the weapon had loosened long before the spell had made it's way to his body. But he did not argue any further.

"Now, We ought to find Childe and have dinner–"

Two loud voices in the plaza nearby cut him off. "What was that" A man with blazing red hair crosses his arms.

"Hey, I won didn't i? Now you have to treat me to a years worth of wine haha!" Venti cheers to himself, looking proud and victorious even if from afar he looks like a child being scolded by it's guardian.

"You cheated, didn't you" The taller one acusses.

"Rules don't say anything about me not using magic alright? I won fair and square!" Venti huffs and glances to his side, his eyes widen in delight, "Right Xiao?"

The man in question turns away, embarassed. But Zhongli walks toward them, to his demise.

"My apologies for his actions" The man– Diluc– bows to him, placing one hand to his chest. Zhongli shakes his head stepping forward, while Xiao keeps a distance.

"Although I hate to say this, He's right," Zhongli says proving his statement when his eyebrows crease "Congratulations" He sounds bitter.

"See! I told you so!" Venti turns back to Diluc.

"That doesn't mean you should go smooching around placing the forbidden Archon's spell on people!" Xiao only backs away more at the phrase 'smooching'.

"Adepti," And turns even redder when Venti doesn't correct him about it.

"Not the point." Diluc sighs and brings a hand to his forehead.

"Hmph. I'll make it up to you later Xiao! I promise!" Venti promises to the boy before lightly skipping away, "Now, thou art must be taking my leave! Farewell! For the vin we must retrieve!"

"Where do you think you're going?l!" Diluc shouts but Venti doesn't stop.

"Wine! wine! wine! Here I come!" He says in a sing-song manner and disappears to a burst of feathers before Diluc could reach him.

Xiao thinks he peeks at mirth-filled blue eyes one last time before they vanish, What exactly did he mean by 'make it up to you'.

The endddd tundundun i don't know what to write as a continuation.

#xiaoven #genshin fluff #because i was bored #why did i do this #this is why i can't have nice things #genshin

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