#their seeds are carried away by wind and wishes

[absinthemindedly]

Patron saint of dandelions that grow through cracks in the sidewalk

the patron saint of worms that died on concrete

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ DESPERATION INCARNATE yan! xiao / gn! reader

in every life, he had sworn to protect you. in every life, he had failed. in this life, he'll make sure that it won't happen again. to keep the you in this life from ever slipping away from him like you did so many times before.

in which xiao falls in love with you in every life and slowly goes insane.

( reincarnation au, w4r, lots of blo0dshed and decápitation, graphic description of vi0lence, mention of xiao's sl4very, deáth... lots of it, sort of enabler aether but for a lil bit, the beginnings of a yandere, angst. lots of it as well )

“you know, yéyé says that if you make a wish on a dandelion seed, then your wishes will come true!”

the unnamed adeptus fixes his golden gaze on a fellow prisoner, sitting across from him with a bright smile. the prisoners around them have given up already, with their dull, glazed eyes and the repeated prayers of deàth spilling from their cracked lips. but this odd one, although their face caked with grime and their hair matted from bloòd, smiles at him from the darkness.

“... dandelion seed?” he goes, not bothering to wince or be embarrassed by his raspy voice. this dull life strips you of your dignity and pride. there’s no use in saving face when you’re looking at deàth right in the eyes. “i have never heard of such a thing.”

“oh, you don’t know?” the little prisoner cocks their head at him. “it’s a curious thing! it’s a flower with fluffy petals covering the middle part. yéyé said that whenever he takes a walk on the borders between liyue and mondstadt, he’d pick some for himself and make a wish!”

the adeptus scoffs. “wishes have no place in my world. actions must be taken if you want results. your grandfather sounds foolish. now be quiet, lest you want the god to take care of that noisy tongue of yours.”

his fellow mate sticks said tongue out at him and gives him a dirty glare. “how rude! my yéyé is the smartest one in our village, you know. he takes a record of all the crops harvested. he’s veeery important! besides, don’t you want to know what he wished for?”

he sighs. it wouldn’t hurt to indulge this one’s yapping for a little more time. the painful groans were starting to take a toll on him and conversation, no matter how foolish the premise sounded, was a nice change of pace. even if his throat was hurting from use because of the god’s neglect to give them drinkable water. “what is it, then?”

they grin at him. “he wished for mondstadt’s harsh winds to disappear! isn’t he cool?”

“why wouldn’t he use the wish for himself?” he cocks his head. “it seems to be more efficient and logical.”

the little prisoner stares at them from behind their bars.

“... what.”

“you are so dull to talk to.”

ugh, this little—! they were the one who started the conversation! before alatus could snap something back, they fall back dramatically and shake their head at him in a pitying manner. “wishes aren’t made to be efficient and logical, stupid! they won’t always work! that’s why they’re just wishes!”

he decides that this thing is absolutely aggravating to talk to, but he won’t deny that he likes their company. “then what’s the use of doing something so useless?”

they laugh. it echoes through their cell, a pleasant tune before it escapes through the bars and gets lost in the sad symphony of groans and lifeless pleas. they continue to laugh like they were underneath liyue’s vast blue skies instead of an underground tomb. “isn’t it obvious, mister adeptus? it’s for hope!

“if you wish on a dandelion and blow the seeds away, your wish will be carried for all of teyvat to hear! and then– and then! even if it’s just a teeny bit of hope, you’ll start to feel that everything can be possible!”

“sounds inefficient.”

“that’s why i said you’re so dull to talk to.”

“hmph.”

“i don’t understand why you keep coming back down here, mister adeptus,” comes the familiar cheery voice of his once prison mate. the surrounding cells are all empty, filled with corpses of the dead long gone. the young god has no time to spare any thought for the useless mortals hanging in his underground prison. the adeptus slides a tray of milk and bread between the bars and into the lap of a grinning face.

even you, he thinks as he examines their sallow face and dry lips. you have been forgotten.

 “you have plenty of companions upstairs. shouldn’t you be celebrating and parading around with them? i heard through the cracks that you’ve got plenty of rice wine to waste.”

“they are not my companions,” he snaps, but they don’t flinch as they snack on the food. “they’re fools who waste their time mindlessly partying and deriving pleasure from the pain of the weak. and i’m… i am nothing more than the god’s plaything.”

he sinks to the ground, sighing. “... [your name],” he whispers, staring at them tearfully from behind bars. “i will get us out of here, i promise.” his hands, shaking and caked with blood, gently reach for their cheek. it’s rough and awfully thin, and something in his chest breaks whenever he sees such a beautiful thing covered in dirt like they were nothing. “i’ll get you back to your village. i’ll make sure that you’ll see your grandfather and your siblings again.”

their hands squeeze his lightly, not having the energy to reciprocate his tenderness like they used to. “i know,” they whisper back to him. they smile up at him, though it is now weak and shaky. “... your hair is green.”

his brows knit together in confusion, but they brush back a few stray strands and smile at the feel of it in their palm. “... i’ve never seen a dandelion, you know. but my yéyé says that dandelions are green. i don’t know if it’s this shade of green but…” you close your eyes and chuckle. “it’s nice to know that i have my own dandelion right in front of me.”

“...?!”

“my dandelion… i have a wish to make,” you mumble to him. alatus closes in, ready to serve you your heart’s deepest desires.

“anything… anything you want, [your name], i’ll make it come true. so…!”

“smile for me, will you?” you peer up at him, watching confusion take over his delicate yet rough features. “you always look so sad. as my dearest friend…

“my only wish is that i see you smile. even if it’s just once.”

the adeptus returns the next day, milk and bread on a tray once more. they are wasted on the floor.

a corpse smiles from the shadows of the cell.

he thinks back to the wish he couldn’t fulfill yesterday. try as he might, it’s hard to stretch his lips into a genuine smile.

maybe it’s because he’s collapsed on the ground, yelling in pain as his whole world blissfully sleeps in the corner.

maybe it’s because whenever he tries to smile, it doesn’t feel right.

not when there’s no one to smile for anymore.

the end is nowhere in sight, yet rex lapis keeps pushing forward.

alatus’ spear plunges into the guts of the demons, spurting black blood over his lithe body as he pulls it out. around him, his fellow yakshas are also hard at work. bosacius tears bodies apart with his four bare hands, splattering more blood and leaving a gruesome sight behind. menogias clicks his tongue and furrows his eyes at the electro yaksha in disapproval.

“can’t you be a bit more graceful, bosacius?” he steps out of the way as bonanus and indarias team up to fling a particularly mighty foe across his way. “these corpses are dismal to look at!”

bosacius laughs boisterously, hoisting an enemy up in the air and cracking their skull on a rock in one fell swoop. “i can’t be bothered, brother! this is the way bosacius fights! with bare hands and strength! corpses are not meant to be looked at anyway!” crack. crack. the gruesome sounds of his fighting are lost in the sounds of war around them.

with a clever twist of his body, alatus sends a corpse to the four-handed idiot to which he skillfully catches without even sparing a glance. “less talking, more fighting,” he says ever so curtly. “rex lapis requires our immediate assistance. do not dally.”

bosacius and menogias send each other a knowing glance, quite familiar with alatus’ undying loyalty to their senior adeptus. the fighting continues and alatus continues to let himself get lost in the chaos, never minding the mysterious ache that binds his chest tighter and tighter with every demon purged. when the battle is won, no one celebrates. it’s hard to, when you feel the blood of the thousands you have massacred drying on your skin. alatus approaches rex lapis, his toned back shadowed by the rising sun as he overlooks the aftermath of the war.

“you’ve fought well, alatus,” rex lapis’ deep voice acknowledges him, brown eyes still steady on the horizon. “you do well to keep the contract.”

“i do not need a contract to serve you, rex lapis,” alatus starts humbly, lowering his gaze in respect. “i owe you my freedom and life.”

“you say that, yet i now have you enslaved to kill for another cause. to me, there is no difference.” rex lapis casts a glace on his most loyal follower. “yet you say that i have given you freedom.”

alatus takes note of the dry bitterness underneath rex lapis’ otherwise gravel tone. “i have signed the contract of my own free will,” he professes, daring to gaze his golden eyes into his lord’s similar ones. “you need not worry about me, my lord.”

rex lapis chuckles, before beckoning alatus to his side. “look at her harsh winds and cold peaks,” the senior adeptus muses. “our nation is blessed with vast plains and tall mountains, but our neighbors shoulder the bitter cold while fighting their side of the archon war.”

“indeed,” alatus could only say. “but your victory is sure now, my lord. soon you will rebuild liyue to glory once you’ve taken the seat of the seven.”

“mmm, yes,” rex lapis hums. “the war nears its end. seven victors from different nations, including bitter and wintry mondstadt. i wonder what sort of archon will rise from mondstadt. our borders are joined together— while violetgrass root themselves on the stony sides of our mountains, their dandelions withstand harsh winds even as their seeds threaten to fly. perhaps their new archon can give them a home where they can grow unbothered, while i build our citizens to be as resilient as a violetgrass.”

… dandelions…

“apologies for the unnecessary question, my lord, but… have you seen a dandelion?”

“oh, they’re curious little things indeed. native to mondstadt. if guizhong had time, she used to walk by the borders and pluck them to make a wish.”

alatus’s breath hitches at the familiar tale. “... what did she wish for, if i would be permitted to know?”

rex lapis’ lips turn into a half-smile, hardened eyes softening at the memories of a dear friend long gone. “she wished for liyue to prosper under my rule. never used a wish on herself.”

“... huh.” the wind blows back alatus’s matted hair, revealing forlorn eyes as they gaze at the sun. “... i wonder why they all do that.”

“does this all sound familiar to you, alatus?” the younger adeptus looks up to see his lord gazing at him with a soft look. alatus shakes his head and straightens his back, taking on the stance of a soldier once again.

“no. this is not the time for me to be concerned with another nation��s trivialities.” he bows his head to the adeptus and starts to make his exit. he doesn’t know why, but a gloved hand takes one of the stray strands of hair self-consciously and turns back to rex lapis. “another question… if i may be so impudent to ask.”

“impudence is not a word to be used on you, alatus. go ahead.”

for a moment, alatus’s confused and conflicted face makes him look like the young adeptus rex lapis saved from the hands of a cruel god. now he is not a battle-hardened soldier, but a lost boy who doesn’t know what to do. “... is the shade of my hair… similar to that of a dandelion?”

the older adeptus cocks his head at the unusual question. “far from it, no.” he studies alatus’s look of disappointment as he lets go of the strand. “why do you ask?”

“... nothing, my lord.”

moments of respite like this are rare in this current era of warfare, so soldiers cherish every single second of it. but for alatus who has only known bloodshed ever since his days at the mercy of the young god, this temporary peacefulness is a waste of time. in a camp just outside of liyue harbor, alatus and his fellowmen idle around a crackling campfire.

“you’re too fidgety, alatus-gē,” pervases laughs as he takes a bite out of his grilled ticker fish. he raises one to alatus’s face. “care for one?” when the senior adeptus scowls and turns his head away, he shrugs and scoffs it down stick and all in one gulp. “more for me then.”

“those malevolent gods continue to let their underlings rampage as we sit here and idle,” alatus frowned at the seemingly peaceful campsite of his fellow yakshas and even a few outstanding mortal warriors. “we should be making plans and calling reinforcements. the war will not end unless we bring that monster down to its watery grave.”

“oh my,” comes a motherly sigh. a young woman with silvery gray hair smiles slyly at alatus. her slender figure stretches across the log serving as a seat in front of the campfire, the cleansing bell tinkling delicately at her side. “you youngsters are quite eager to get into danger these days. not everyone has the energy to keep battling, you know? why i—” she sighs mournfully, pressing her fingers to a supple cheek “— even i need my beauty sleep. charging into the fray daily with no rest is just too much!”

“ping,” he addresses the newcomer. “i see that you are as vain as ever. if you’re not willing to put your all into this war, why did you even enter the contract?”

“i am upholding my end of the contract,” huffs ping. “but only within reason! you’re the one who’s out of reason.” she waves him off with her hand, shooing him off like a stray dog. “take a walk or something. call it a night patrol to ease yourself. i’m afraid your scowl is going to affect me and give me wrinkles.”

alatus takes a good moment to ponder the suggestion before he feels ping’s eyes narrowing at him threateningly. with a deep sigh, he takes his spear with him and teleports himself to a quiet walkway some ways off the guili assembly. war had touched this side of liyue too, it seemed, with swords rusted with blood plunged to the ground and tattered kerchiefs belonging to soldiers waving solemnly in the air. alatus knows this place to once been the safe haven of rex lapis and the late guizhong’s people before the war took the sweet goddess’ life and perished her to dust. now it is mere ruins, a reminder of the evil deities are willing to commit for power.

alatus has years of battle experience under his belt, but it doesn’t make the feeling any better as he stares at these relics. he focuses his gaze on the moon and walks by.

… rumble rumble…

a weathering wall shakes just a few steps away, alerting alatus’s senses. he quickly arms his spear as he vigilantly approaches the spot. the place is teeming with ruin guards and other dangerous mechanisms and although mindless machines are no match for him, alatus is not one to underestimate an opponent. when he peeks around the corner, it is not the eerie glowing eye of a machine but a pair of eyes about to glaze over.

covered in soot and dirt, a raspy voice tries to speak out, “w… wa… ter…”

alatus blinks in surprise when he finds a human instead but quickly teleports somewhere to get drinkable water. in a moment, he appears again in front of them and swiftly tips the saucer into their mouth. gently lifting their head, he watches as they desperately glug down the water. some of it spills from the sides, but the light in their eyes quickly revives until they pull away with a gasp.

“ugh… ha! i thought i was a goner there!”

alatus freezes.

two shining [eye color] eyes peer up at him gratefully as a wide grin spreads across their face.

“thanks a lot, mister adeptus.”

they are escorted into liyue harbor. alatus does not talk to them or even spare them a glance, afraid of whatever feelings that may arise should he do so. he’s aware of the curious glance they send his way, scrutinizing his every inch. he doesn’t like how they stare at him with awe and absolute trust. this is an era of warring gods, where adepti like him dig into flesh and blood to pursue their ambition. fools who cling to whoever feeds them die easily.

they continue staring. it feels like fire as his guilt and memories long pushed away pour from his heart and threaten to consume him whole. his steps feel heavier, as if any second now and the earth will cave in and send him straight to hell. unconsciously, his eyes glance back to them and they… smile.

it hurts.

flashes of a corpse long gone come back to him and he tears his eyes away. he shakes this haunting feeling away, yet their stare that bears the weight of decades' guilt continues to burden him all the way to camp.

"ping," he says gruffly, catching the attention of the group. everyone's a bit startled at the arrival of a newcomer, a dusty and malnourished one at that, but even more so that alatus decided to trek uphill instead of just conveniently teleporting himself. "take care of this one," is all he curtly says before plopping down underneath a tree and closing his eyes.

ping huffs in disdain and gives him a dirty look, but quickly changes it to give the newcomer a warm smile. “come now, sweetie,” she coos, placing a comforting palm on the small of their back and escorting them to the bonfire. “you’re positively shivering! it makes sense, given that that yaksha’s always so cold.” at this alatus grunts, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “here’s some soup and a blanket to cover you with. my gosh, you’re so dirty! what have you been doing? playing around in the mud?”

you eagerly take her up on her offer, and soon you’re swaddled in a thick blanket and bowl of carrot soup to enjoy in front of the fire. “i was actually studying some of the leftover ruins at the assembly. i thought that maybe i could get some useful things and use them for myself.”

ping gasps dramatically at your story– a young adult scrapping for leftovers in the middle of the war– and alatus rolls his eyes. “poor, poor thing!” she cries and draws you in for a hug. “don’t worry. here at morax’s camp, you won’t have to suffer through that anymore! you’ll be cared for until we can find a suitable place for you and the other survivors to live!”

you laugh. “i think you have the wrong impression, ms. adeptus, i’ve had it pretty easy compared to others during this war. what i’ve been scrapping are materials!”

ping cocks her head, and alatus even peeks out from the tree he’s hiding behind. “materials, darling?”

“yes! screws, tree bark, metal, you name it. i’m finding them so i can continue making my gadgets.” you fish into your bag, and they can hear the clanking of metal and other stuff as you sift through the mess. “ah, here it is, one of my favorites!” you pull out a curious box, the cuhui wood engraved with liyuean details. you gently snap the box open and reveal a little figurine made out of precious stone, frozen in an elegant twirl reminiscent of liyue’s traditional dances. you begin to crank the little knob at its side, and when you release it a pleasant tinkling of sounds fills the night air.

ping stares wide-eyed at the pretty treasure, listening to its sounds with a fond look on her face. even pervasive hums as he gnaws on his nth fish, his scratchy voice humming along with the old lullaby. other nearby campers close their eyes and let their minds wander for a while, to a place where lullabies such as this sang all day and wars didn’t raze grass and civilians to the ground. for a moment, they let themselves be deluded into a moment of peace.

when the tinkling fades away, only the crackling of the fire remains. “pretty, isn’t it?” it takes ping a moment to snap out of her trance before nodding enthusiastically.

“quite! oh, if it didn’t look so perfect slotted between your hands, i might have snatched it for myself! although,” she nervously chuckles, feeling the stern gaze of the silent adeptus lounging behind the tree. “i might not have the chance anyway. a certain someone has been glaring at me ever since i conceived the thought.”

“maybe he wants it for himself?” pervases jokes. “he could do with it, what with all that stress.”

“hmph, i’ve no need for such trivial things.” he goes back to resting against the trunk without another word.

ping sighs and shakes her head at you, like a disappointed mother. “he’s always like that,” she laments. “he’s morax’s most faithful servant, i’ll tell you that, but sometimes it makes me wonder what will happen after this war is over. surely he won’t be going around slaughtering monsters?!” she raises her hand to her mouth like the thought was too unforgivable.

pervases hummed, thinking hard and long about how his senior would act in a time of peace. “hmm… i think alatus-ge would like to fish. he seems like the type.”

the image of the bloody general fishing floats above your three heads. ping waves it away. “as if!” she scoffs. “he’d just spear the fish and be done with it!”

“what kind of person do you think alatus-ge is…?”

“alatus, alatus!”

something twists at his gut, a mix of anticipation and dread, but he stops in his tracks to wait for you. you catch your breath beside him. “you’re so fast for someone so short!” you complain. “how do you do it?”

“slowness isn’t an option on the battlefield,” alatus curtly says before turning to assess. you’re covered head to toe in dirt, and your fingers are covered in grime like you’ve been digging. he sighs and rubs a speck of dirt from your cheek. “another one of your foraging hunts? you can always tell me if you need something. it’s too dangerous outside the camp.”

“i used to tell you, didn’t i?” you pout. “but you can’t tell the difference between a cork and a screw!”

alatus blushes. he can’t really wrap his head around these machineries. whenever you and cloud retainer got into one of your excited conversations about tinkering and machinery, alatus could only pretend like everything you just said didn’t make his head spin. if you got into another of your rants about the intricacies of machines or whatever, everything you said went into one ear and out the other.

“but you still listen, don’t you?” ping and pervases teased him with knowing grins. he had hit them over the head after that.

“... tus! alatus! ugh, you’re not listening again!” you had gotten into a lecture of the differences between corks and screws, but now you shake him by the shoulder with furrowed brows. “you’re always like this. is machinery really too hard for you?”

“everyone has their strengths.” he ruffles your hair, smiling softly when you visibly relax. “you wouldn’t want me to tell you about how to efficiently kill geovishaps, do you?” when you make a face, he laughs slightly. “thought so.”

“they just… ugh. they just smell so bad!”

“... they smell like rocks.”

as the two of you finish the rest of his patrol, alatus doesn’t miss a moment to watch your every movement. here, under the red rays of dusk, you look so alive. your cheeks could be healthier, but alatus is comforted with the knowledge that you stuffed yourself full this morning. your eyes have a twinkle in them, not the last sparks of ember that you had tried to hold on for so long. and you smile… because you want to. not because you had to. not because you had to comfort your fellow friend in prison.

“looks like we’ve walked too far,” alatus comments, sighting the dandelions swaying in the distance. “we should head back to camp before it gets too dark.”

“oooh, dandelions,” you muse. you and alatus stand side by side, taking in the dandelions swaying in their pastel heads swaying in the wind. “i heard they were pretty, but seeing them in person is better.”

standing by your side, alatus takes in your countenance. there is an indistinguishable look in your eyes as you watch their seeded heads bob and sway, your smile somewhere between content and forlorn. the setting sun paints your face with an orange hue, only serving to make you look as if you’ve come out of an oil painting itself. alatus’s breath hitches and he tears his eyes away from you.

self-consciously, he rubs a teal strand of his hair before tucking it back. “do… does my hair…” you turn your gaze to him questioningly, and his pale face burns at the embarrassing predicament he’s put himself in. “does my hair look like the dandelions?”

you stare at him for quite some time, only blinking and not saying anything, before you tilt your head back and laugh. alatus’s face only reddens further and he hits you with his elbow in his embarrassment. you only continue to laugh, even as alatus is beginning to throttle you and beg you to pay no heed to his words. when you’re done laughing, alatus huffs at you and refuses to look at you.

“oh, you… silly adeptus, i would have mistaken you for a pure-hearted maiden there!” you giggle into your hand, and alatus’s brows knit themselves in huffiness as you continue to tease him. “come on, you have eyes. they’re not even close in color!”

he kicks you lightly in the shin, before turning around and walking off to the distance. “come on. let’s head to camp before night,” he says as if nothing’s happened. you stare at his back for a while, a teasing smile on your face, before shaking it off and hurrying to catch up to him. when you catch up to him, you leap at him with your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair with a bright smile on your face.

“don’t be too grumpy, alatus!” you laugh, even as he sends you a look of frustration. “once this is all over, we’ll come back to this place and make wishes on those dandelions!”

“don’t forget about me, mister servant,” you lightly laugh behind your bars. “bring me lots of food, okay? then once you get me outta here, we’ll have a big ol’ feast at my yéyé’s.”

one of the guards tug at alatus’s shackles but he clings to your cell even as they grunt and pull. “[your name], i’m not leaving you! i can’t! i won’t!”

you chuckle. “stupid mister adeptus. who’s going to swipe cake for me then? now go, shoo.” you wave him away, smiling weakly. “i know you’ll come back for me. you always will.”

you’ve always had a knack for being the unluckiest person alive. even if your smile was so bright that it seemed to ward off evil, tragedy always seemed to tightly coil around your neck like a noose. he wanted to be the one to cut it off, in both the last life and this.

once again, he always seemed to be too late.

“they’ve broken through the formation!” indarias yells, slamming a fiery fist through her enemies. the pyro-blessed yaksha, usually so playful and coy, looks at her comrades with panic. “there’s no one left at the camp to defend them anymore. they’re— they’re all—!” she swallows down the bitter reality, pervases and her other comrades’ gored bodies flashing through her mind. “the civilians can’t defend themselves from all those monsters!”

“shit.” menogias slices through a foe and turns to their youngest, standing atop a pile of bloodied corpses. karmic debt wraps him and the other yakshas like a dense fog, and it gets harder to breathe with every passing second. still, he calls out to him.

“alatus—!”

the young yaksha only spares him a golden glance, before slipping the bloodied mask on. “you don’t have to tell me twice.” and he disappears into the air.

you are not there when he reappears at the camp. no one is. everything is on fire, and he can barely see what’s in front of him thanks to all the smoke and ashes polluting the air. he hisses at the burning in his lungs, but he perseveres forward as he strains his ears for any signs of life. the faint clashing of weapons and maniacal laughter is far away, but they grow stronger as he continues.

he steps on something… fleshy. growing dread rises within him as he slowly looks down.

that… is a severed hand.

biting his tongue, he rushes forward through the sea of flames. more and more decapitated limbs and bodies litter the area. arms, legs, torsos, feet… the handiwork of psychopaths, no doubt. because an ordinary soldier would not do this. not to civilians. not to people who could not defend themselves. he sees no face to mourn for. he sees no head to remember.

roars of laughter peal through the air as he braves a wall of fire. as the sky is dyed red with both fire and dawn, alatus’ face pales when he sees the enemies marching around as they shout triumphantly into the chaos.

your head, beautiful as he had always remembered, parades past him on a wooden stake.

when karmic debt takes over, he doesn’t remember anything the next morning when he sobs and cradles your sleeping face, surrounded by the bodies of foes and allies alike.

in your next life, you are both strangers. he looks high and low for you in liyue, but he does not find you.

celestia orders the seven archons to launch an attack on khaenri’ah, and alatus and whoever is left of the adepti is ordered by rex lapis to stand by in liyue and eliminate any escaped khaenri’ahns. although he has nothing against them, he is more than happy to follow his lord’s commands, because he has nothing else left to do but do his duty.

surely enough, the khaenri’ahns have found some escape route that leads up to liyue. unfortunately for them, alatus and the others are there to massacre them without hesitation.

in one of the escapees, his eyes widen behind his mask as he meets your scared eyes. in this life, they have diamonds in them, and they stare back at him with fear and unfamiliarity rather than mischief and friendliness. he thinks you still look beautiful.

even as he drives a spear through your chest.

when the massacre is finished, he tries to find your body. but there are too many of you, bodies upon bodies and the stench of death heavy in the air. he cannot find you, his pearl, in this bloody sea of corpses.

years have passed, and he has not seen you since.

well, that would be a bit false. he does see you, but not… you. he does not walk with you in flower fields to admire your face bathed in sunlight nor does he watch you rummage through ruins for scraps of metal and machines. he does not idly chat with you behind bars to pass the time away nor does he help soft bread to your chapped lips as he comforts you with promises of your freedom and your yéyé.

he sees an image of you, the hallucination that his karmic debt has conjured for him in his nightmares. you smile at him ever so sweetly, joining him in his bed at wangshu inn. you’re always so pure and pretty in your nightdress when you sidle up to him to share in his warmth. but when you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, alatus’ eyes shoot wide open as he feels your hand wrap around his neck and squeeze. he should fight, he could fight, but how could he? your face is twisted in hatred and disappointment, whispering to him about his betrayal and failure to save you. ‘you killed me, you left me, you fed me to the dogs.’

how could he fight back, when all you have said is the truth?

and so alatus, now named xiao, wakes up for another day drenched in his sweat and tears.

he is patrolling guili plains when he spots a familiar head of gold and the tinier head of white walking idly through the grasses. it’s not unusual for aether and paimon to be here, but they’ve thoroughly explored and exhausted this area of any treasures, and last he heard they were in fontaine. he hides away in a tree, observing their usual back and forth as they seem to wait for someone.

“like i’m saying, they’re an hour late!” paimon fumes, stomping the air as she throws a tantrum. “what if someone happened to them? oooh, paimon knew we should’ve picked them up from mondstadt! they’re always so clumsy!”

“oh, don’t get your crown in a twist, paimon,” aether says, nonchalant as ever. he glances towards xiao’s way and hums to himself, as if partaking in a fun little secret (he’s always been so perceptive, xiao muses), and takes a bite out of his sunsettia. “geniuses like [your name] are always like that. losing track of time, getting caught up in some curious thing they encountered on their way… they’ll be here soon, promise.” he hands out his half-eaten sunsettia to paimon. “sunsettia?”

“ew, gross! don’t hand paimon your leftovers!”

xiao perks at the familiar name, opening one eye as he lazily ruminates the familiar syllables in his head. [your name], [your name], [your name]... like he could ever forget that. he whispers it in his sleep, prays to your hallucination like a god, screams it every morning… [your name], [your name], [your name]... he watches aether finish his sunsettia and sighs to himself. he shouldn’t be silly. numerous people with your name have appeared in liyue ever since he’s last seen you, and not one of them was you. he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“— iiii’mmm! so, so sorry!” a sobbed yelp breaks the peace of the plains from the distance. a hefty backpack overshadows the figure carrying it, running as fast as they can with the weight on them. they skid to a stop in front of the traveler and paimon, who greets the newcomer with an amused smile and a huffy face. the backpack ungracefully lands on the grass with a loud clang, and its owner falls alongside it as they try to catch their breath. “i’m so— huff— sorry! i was— hah— on my way here when i— huff— came across a travelling merchant. they had all these goods from fontaine and i— hah— couldn’t resist!”

paimon once again stomps the air. “well, you should try to be more mindful from now on! it’s rude!”

“i’m so~ory,” the eccentric figure whines pitifully. they rummage through their bag and pull out a pretty tin box, the kind used to store cookies. “forgive me, paimon?” in the usual paimon fashion, her eyes twinkle upon seeing the pretty sugar cookies stored inside, and upon the first bite all is finally forgiven.

“hm, is it just me or is someone watching us…?” they wonder, looking around the guili plains for any signs of life. “i feel this, uh, weird pressure. or am i just delusional…?”

when they turn, xiao catches their eyes through the canopy of leaves on the tree he’s occupying. his breath hitches, his eyes widen, and the world seems to halt to a stop.

you unknowingly lock eyes with the adeptus, cocking your head as you try to find the stranger peeking on your little group.

you blink when the pressure is finally gone, and you look back at the highly perceptive traveler in confusion. he only regards you with a small smile and shrugs.

“you’re awfully interested in the engineer, don’t you think?” aether playfully muses as he walks in on one of xiao’s rare times of relaxation. he lounges on wangshu inn’s balcony as he overlooks the scenery beneath him, almond tofu in hand. “why don’t you greet them for yourself then?”

xiao doesn’t spare him a glance as he brings a spoon of the silken food to his mouth. “unnecessary.”

aether rolls his eyes, taking the spot next to xiao as he studies the adeptus with a smile. “don’t be like that, you introvert. you’re always following us around while they go study liyue’s machines. i’m sure zhongli would be pleased to know that you have friends outside of us and the other adepti.” xiao scowls when aether uses his lord as a guilt trip, but doesn’t comment any further. “[your name]’s a wonderful person, if not a bit ditzy at times. i think they and cloud retainer would get aloong quite well if they ever met each other.”

he thinks back to your second life, where you chattered the night away with the crane adeptus about machinery and the like. bathed in the glow of the campfire, alatus would only dare observe from a distance as you talked passionately with stars in your eyes. aether observes as xiao’s eyes soften. “they did.”

the traveller huffs a laugh, slumping his cheek against the wooden railing as he looks out to the scenery too. “reincarnation, huh? there were things like that in other worlds as well.”

he’d never admit it, but he had always been pleased by the fact that aether had the shared experience of living for eras, if not longer. the other adepti were never close to humans, but aether and his sister had always walked alongside mortals in order to observe their stories. xiao lets the wind graze his cheek. “... did you ever have someone you wanted as well?”

“i made many friends but…” aether quirks a small smile, tapping his fingers on the wood lightly. “my sister was really all i needed.” he notes the hidden pain in his voice. “we’ve traversed many worlds together, and we will always have eternity together. but you don’t have someone like that.”

golden eyes meet golden, and xiao shudders at the sly look that aether gives him.

“well, unless you do something to change that.”

‘damn you, aether.’ the traveller’s always been sort of a bastard hiding behind gentle manners and a pretty smile, but he never thought that he’d stoop so low as to awaken the dark feelings that he’s kept repressed for so long. ‘sly dog.’ he makes a mental note to not react when aether calls for him next as some sort of petty revenge.

today, you are alone. your backpack is lighter, thankfully, otherwise you would not be able to travel through the huaguang stone forest’s cliffs and falls. he’s joined you on this journey since you started a few days back, but he continues to grow with paranoia every time he sees you walk too close to the edge. he’s also saved you a few times, summoning wind to stabilize a shaky glide or carrying you further away from the edge when you started rolling in your sleep.

his heart twists when he settles you back in your sleeping bag. he takes in your sleeping face, murmuring nonsense in your sleep, and the sides of his lips tug into an unconscious smile. you’ve always had that habit in the lives that he’s known you in, and he pushes aside the strands of hair to take a clearer look at your face. when the babbling subsides, your dopey grin relaxes itself, and the heartaches begin once again. so many times he’s watched over you like this, but the last time he had was… was when you were…

your face, peaceful and oblivious, overlaps to a bloody, dismembered one. xiao inhales sharply and shakes the image out of his head.

he starts with your cheek, caressing it softly with his calloused fingers as he revels in your warmth. they trace every feature— your fluttering eyelids, the in-betweens of your eyes, your twitching nose— until his thumb presses on your lip. this was not a luxury he could afford back then, but now, now.

‘i can protect you in this world.’ he thinks. his lips brush against yours, but he does not lean in further.

‘all my past transgressions, i will make it up to you.’

you smile in your sleep peacefully, just as you did... so many years ago.

you appear in xiao’s dream once more.

it starts off the same as always. you are draped in fine liyue silk, batting those innocent eyes at him as you call him to your shared bed. he knows what will happen next, having relieved this for centuries on end. you will crawl upon him, you will wrap those hands around his neck, and you will admonish him. xiao stares at the alluring image of you and does not budge from the foot of the bed.

“[your name], come to me.” your image cocks its head in confusion, but you follow anyway. now that he’s met the real you, he can clearly see the difference. your hair isn’t that shade, your eyes are much too wide and— ah, his image of you has slowly been creeping away from his mind after years of separation. the thought of it twists his heart.

he watches you crawl over to him, tempting and innocent like a newly wed bride. you sit on your knees dutifully, awaiting his next command. he reaches out, strokes your hair— it’s not as soft as this in real life— and smiles darkly.

“i love you, [your name].”

you smile. “i know.”

“i always have. even after all these years.”

“i know.”

your eyes held so much light and passion than this blank-minded image of you. he inhales. “i’ll miss you.”

you furrow your brows, frowning in confusion at the sudden confession. “alatus, what are you talking about—?!”

xiao’s face is unmoving as he watches you choke on your blood, staring up at him wide-eyed as your hands shakily reach up to the spear embedded through your chest. “a– la– tus…?” he does not respond to your weak call, yellow eyes dull as you bloody his spear and heave with every gasp. “wh– how could…?”

“i’ve met you, [your name],” he whispers. he thumbs away the blood trickling from your lips. he breathes in slowly, knocking his head against yours. your image stares at him in betrayal and fear. “in this life, i’ve finally met you.” he feels your image dissipating and he brings you in closer. “finally. after all these years.”

“a… la… tus…”

“this time. this life. i promise you.” he entangles your bloody hand in his and presses a kiss to it. “we will finally be together.”

“no matter what.”

[eliseliedl]

How I wish to live the way you do Brave and strong, all day long, as you walk the path you choose Though they’re small, these gestures of affection I hope sow the seeds of a future that is hopeful and bright With the rose that I long for... Hold my hand and sing with me; our melody is evergreen Every laugh, every smile makes the place I call my home One day, the summer wind may carry all my seeds away Maybe you could fly with me too? If I can bloom Freya character song 🍒💚

[lunarmoves]

a sigh leaves your lips as you lay back against the grass of a small hill, basking in the oozing warmth from the sun above. a gentle breeze glides by and causes stray strands of your hair to wave around your face. they tickle at the skin of your cheeks and forehead. there’s a certain quietude to the air, broken only by the occasional bird or rustling leaves from the gingko tree sitting at the crux of the hill. 

you could stay here for hours, you think, as you watch puffy, white clouds lazily making their way across a bright blue sky. just relaxing and enjoying one of the many things nature has to offer—a beautiful spectacle free of charge. unappreciated in these contemporary times. 

the soft jingle of bells catches your attention before a hand appears in front of your face—stark against the sky’s backdrop behind it. two metal fingers pinch something together between them. like he had plucked it right from the very hill you sat upon.

“what is this?” moon’s voice is low yet inquisitive, holding the stalk of the plant in his grasp. 

“oh!” you sit up with a little gasp of delight and turn to face him sitting cross-legged by your side. “it’s a dandelion!” 

“it does not look like one,” he says flatly as he brings it closer to his face in observation. he spins it around carefully, rotating the stem between his fingers. 

you chortle. “well, no. this one’s at the end stage of its life cycle. see the fluffy white bits? those are seeds.” 

moon’s head tilts slightly to the side, a click coming from his faceplate. “seeds?” 

“yeah, humans blow on ‘em to make a wish. it’s a superstition,” you tell him and lean back against your palms propped up behind you. 

moon hums—soft, dolce—and holds the dandelion in front of his static smile. he makes a motion like he’s taking a breath, then slouches forward slightly and spins his face around in a rather pouty manner. “no lungs.” 

you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “sorry, bud.” you offer him a consoling pat on the arm and he deflates even further. drama queen. “hey, tell you what. you make your wish and i’ll blow on the dandelion. it’ll be a team effort. sound good?” 

moon makes a sound as though he’s considering your offer, but it doesn’t take him long to agree. “deal,” he says simply and holds out his hand so that the dandelion hovers before your mouth. 

you offer him a grin, and then you inhale deeply before blowing on the aging dandelion. its seeds scatter in a puffy cloud of white, taking to the sky as the wind carries them up and away in an aimless dance. moon watches them carefully as he ponders upon his wish and then—

and then moon opens his eyes. 

the daycare is dark. quiet. alight only from the artificial stars above. his gaze moves about, slowly, steadily, painting his surroundings in ruby. he sighs and it gets lost in the stale, open air. 

moon thinks about you. he thinks about the outside world with its blue sky and flimsy flowers. and he thinks about a wish, clutched deeply to his chest. a wish involving you and him together, sitting on a hill. watching clouds drift by on a summertime breeze. 

[eeboshmeebo]

💐Dandelion💐

Incorporating a childhood aspect with my favorite character.

@jyohan :3

@the-copycat-hero >:(

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Every time you saw a dandelion, you always told your parents to stop the car so you can go pick one and blow on it just for the sake of seeing the seeds scatter in the wind. Not to make a wish, but to see more of the bright yellow blossoms and their puffy seeds spread even more.

Safe to say, not many actual wishes were made unless they involved dandelions magically growing at your home or your parents buying some cotton candy in the fancy machine the ice cream parlor had.

The few wishes you actually made, though, always got fulfilled. Mostly because you said them out loud and your parents could always hear you, so you didn't think much of it.

One day, there was this one specific wish that stood out from all the others, one that you made on your thirteenth birthday.

"I wish to meet the prettiest boy in the whole world!" You cried out, before blowing and letting the dandelion seeds float into the air, carried away by the breeze.

It was just a spur of the moment thing. You didn't actually believe you'd meet him, since you were always told you had to keep your wishes quiet for them to come true, but it was nice to dream.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

And what a surprise it was, indeed, when you saw a boy with hair that reminded you of a dandelion about to bloom, eyes as blue as the morning sky, and a vitality in his voice that outmatched the plant that he reminded you of.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Is this what 1-A does in their break time? None of you even look like you're having a break, you're just sitting and talking!"

Maybe you were hallucinating, but there was this pinkish tint in the room the moment you saw him. Or there was sunlight shining on Mina again. Didn't matter.

He was, certainly, without a single doubt...

"...the prettiest boy in the whole world."

You smiled and leaned over your desk a bit more, resting your chin on your hands before he turned to face you, a sneer on his face as he immediately had something to say.

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"And you! You look extra stupid, anything to speak or is your head too empty to say a single thing?"

Monoma immediately had chosen the student that had a head in the clouds, despite the fact that those eyes were keenly focused on him and not having an unfocused gaze into nowhere. He surely won't regret thi-

"You're a wish come true... the prettiest boy in the world is real!"

"...ah!? What're you talking about?! I didn't come from a dumb wish!"

Why did you say that in front of everyone.

He bit his lower lip in an attempt to retain his composure, though he could physically feel the blush rising on his face.

"Wow, he even looks like a Rainier cherry when he blushes. I can just take a big ol' bi-"

"Harassment!"

"OW!"

Thankfully, the rectangular-looking student with glasses had slapped the back of your head before looking up back at him.

"I dearly apologize for our classmate's behavior. This has never happened before, and frankly, I expected better."

"Yeah, just... discipline your classmates better. Hmmph. Unruly..."

Before his face could turn even redder, he quickly fled out of the classroom while covering his face, running past Kendo who looked at him with an expression he'd rather not see at the moment.

He'd have to look up Rainier cherries later and send a thank-you gift to glasses guy in secret afterwards since nobody could know he thanked a 1-A student of all people.

"Can't believe that... that..! Ugh! Just go and... and eat dirt!"

He kicked a stray eraser on the way back to the 1-B classroom, grumbling to himself the entire time.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

"No. Way. Iida!" Mina hissed, pulling Iida by the jacket and closer to her desk, her eyes wide with shock and her teeth gritted together as she pulled him down by the collar.

Iida practically felt the urgency in her voice and toned down his voice, but also made sure to fix his glasses' position. "What's the problem, Mina? I've rarely heard you this panicked before."

She rolled her eyes before leaning in even closer to him, whispering into his ear.

"Our classmate's in love with the blondie that came earlier."

His reddening face immediately paled at that news. Proximity to the opposite sex was nothing compared to the realization that his classmate was in love with that guy who just barged in, insulted his class, and then left.

"The whole thing..?" He weakly asked, covering his mouth with one hand to hide the way his jaw dropped at the news.

"Yes," Mina hissed yet again, looking around before continuing. "The doki-doki, badump-badump. The rose-tinted glasses. The whole head-over-heels. The comment about biting the other guy. Our classmate is in love."

"Oh no... we're too young! Studies should be a priority, not romance!"

"I'd love to say otherwise, but right now we have to find a way to help our classmate fall out of love with that guy before it's too late."

"A shameful thing..."

"But our classmate, our friend, can do so much better than him. We just need to expose a side worse than the one he exposed today."

It was settled. Mina and Iida would help you rise back out of love via... exposure therapy.

"What're you two talking about?"

"Nothing big, just planning a few things, dear classmate!"

"Okay then... you do you, I guess."

They both sighed in relief as you went back to doodling and rubbing the back of your head. This had to be kept a secret, lest unwanted events occur, like you falling deeper in love.

~✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿~

Part one of plan Yellow Rose. Yellow roses mean 'friendship'. They can accept friendship, but not romance.

Mina and Iida brought you to 1-B's classroom. Surely, seeing Monoma new side would diminish your affection for him, right? That's what they hoped for, anyways.

"What're we doing, again?"

"We're taking you to class 1-B to apologize for your uncouth comment. Their class representative heard you from the hallway."

That right there was a rehearsed line from last night. Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to convince you to follow them so a lot of the lines they practiced didn't need to be used.

"And right here is the other class..." Mina started talking as she opened the door, but she hesitated when you stepped inside.

"Don't make a scene, okay?"

"..."

"Buddy?"

Too late. Iida was frantically moving his arms and making robotic gestures that Mina couldn't make heads or tails of, while you had already locked onto someone and beelined towards him.

"Wishboy! You're here! No wonder you disappeared so quickly yesterday, you were here all along! Oh, wow, you're really pretty up close. Has anyone told you before that you've got really smooth skin? Your lips, too. They're like flower petals."

Monoma's face progressively got redder the longer you rambled on, to the point where it was visible despite his efforts to hide his blush.

"Oh, really? well, I wish I could say the same for you, but I'd rather not waste my breath on the likes of you." Monoma teased, though he was as smooth as almond butter at the moment.

"Really? Damn... because even your voice is pretty, too."

Part one obviously failed, judging by the current situation. Mina facepalmed while Iida picked you up by the arms and walked back out of the classroom, the lovestruck look on your face obvious to anyone seeing it.

However, while they left with you in tow, Monoma couldn't help but wonder...

"...are you playing with me, or is this real?"

~✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿~

Part two. Since meeting him when he was calm didn't work, how about when he was riled up after training? Surely, seeing him all messed up, exhausted, and disheveled should do the trick.

Mina and Iida had teamed up with Sero and Tooru to make sure this plan won't screw up... again.

They had told you to bring some perfume and towels just in case, though you came to the training grounds with the entire beach supply set. Handheld fan, sunscreen, UV umbrella, the works. Maybe you saw that the temperature was high today or something.

Sero, Tooru, and Mina were definitely thankful for the shade since it was sweltering outside. Iida was negotiating with Vlad King to watch the rest of training. The 1-B students had mostly finished their training ahead of time and were resting under one of the thinner umbrellas on the training area at the moment, but there were a few more students that didn't come over yet...

"Can you see him, Mina..?" Tooru whispered behind you, fanning herself to keep away the heat.

"No, not yet. Where is he? He- oh."

And over the negligible hill came Monoma.

Dear god, what a mess.

Sweating, shaking, stumbling, somehow in last place, and downright unrecognizable to the untrained eye. And he somehow lost his gym uniform top.

What. A. Mess-

"Wait. Hold on, are you kidding me?"

"Noooo... nooo!"

When the trio looked towards you, you were practically eyeing him up like a critic over a runway model despite him being the furthest thing away from a model at the moment.

Mina had hidden behind Tooru to shield herself, though it was the handheld fan that did most of the work and not Tooru herself for obvious reasons. Sero had just looked away.

While the three students had deigned themselves to not look while you fawned over what was probably the messiest sight ever, you walked up to Monoma with a towel, some water, and an ice pack in hand.

Iida, however, was able to see what was going on after Vlad King was satisfied with his explanation.

"Want some water?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks for the wa..." Iida could see that Monoma took the offered water and took a hefty swig, but choked when he saw who it was.

"Y-you!?"

"Yeah, it's me. Heh, you're really cute when shocked."

"I'm not cute! Why're you here, anyways!? To make fun of me? You probably are!"

"But that's mean, and you're far too cute to be mean to..."

"You're lying. I can see it on your face. AH! Let go unless you want me to copy your Quirk!"

"I'm fine with that if it means I get to hold your hand."

"...you're not deterred by the fact I can copy your Quirk?"

"Of course not! I actually think it's a really cool and useful power,

Iida felt like he was watching an unstoppable force and an unmovable wall go head-to-head, but the wall was crumbling quickly and gaining the shade of red bricks as it did.

The wall being Monoma. Oddly enough, Iida felt a bit sour watching this entire exchange, watching you wipe the sweat off Monoma's face casually despite the boy's protests and how you kept on teasing him.

"Ah, the sourness of being single..."

Iida jumped, or would have, if he didn't have Mina's hands on his shoulders while she grimaced.

"It's like they're in a relationship and they don't even know it. Frustrating! I ship it, though."

"Mm-hmm." He agreed, before guiding his friends away from the training grounds. He now knew what it felt like to be a 'single dog' that he always heard about, unfortunately.

♡✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿♡

A week later.

"So..."

Monoma fidgeted around with one the many daisy-buttercup flower rings on his hands, sitting on a picnic blanket under a tree while you had two dandelions in hand and scoured the field for more.

"Did you really mean them? Those compliments you said to me."

"Hmm... yep. All of them. I wouldn't be bothered to even think of any if they weren't about you, wishboy."

It was so, so confusing. He plucked a daisy from nearby, admiring the petals and the slight pinkish hues. English daisies with their gentle hues and layers of petals. He started picking at the petals, a small game of 'Love me, loves me not' going though his mind.

"That's more flattering than I thought it'd be, really. I still can't believe that you don't mind me touching you, even my own classmates needed a little while to get used to me, and boom! Here you are, just..."

"Waltzing up to you without a hint of discomfort?"

You sat down next to him and offered him a dandelion that had already turned into a soft puff of seeds. He took it, but didn't look at it closely in favor of looking at you.

"Yeah. It's almost uncanny, but also comforting."

"Aww, it's nice to hear that you think of me in that way. Really."

You stretched out, raising your own dandelion in front of you while you held onto his free hand.

"Wanna know why I brought you out here?"

"It's not because you want to compare blooming dandelions to my hair, is it?"

"Only partially. The real thing is that... well, it's a childish thing, really, but if you blow on these," You lifted up your dandelion a bit more to emphasize it. "And make a wish, it might come true. That's what I grew up being told, anyways."

Blowing on plant seeds to make a wish, huh? Curious. He set aside his half-plucked daisy and kept the dandelion you gave him securely in hand, ready to blow on it whenever.

"It does seem a little silly, but judging by how big the field is, it must be fun, anyways."

"Definitely."

Monoma could feel his hand being squeezed, but he successfully ignored the blush on his cheeks as he saw you ready to blow on your dandelion.

Three...

Two...

One...

Fwuuuuuuu!

You and Monoma blew on your dandelions at the same time, watching the seeds scatter into the wind and lift into the sky.

"This feels kind of like a date."

And there goes the mood. He gulped a bit out of nervousness, and suddenly, his collar felt a bit too tight.

"Oh, sorry. This could just be hanging out if you want-" "No! No, I- uh... I'm fine with this being a date, actually."

Your silence felt suffocating. More suffocating than anything else's he's felt. He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating disappointment.

He didn't anticipate the soft touch of your lips on his hand.

"A date it is, then. I was just a bit shocked earlier because wow, you're really pretty and I just realized that again."

He opened his eyes, much less tense than earlier... then he threw a bunch of petals into your face.

"Don't do that! You scared me, hahaha!"

"Pfffbwth- ah, okay, I won't do that next time, but also, petal attack!"

♡✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿♡

Class 1-A and 1-B were watching from a distance to make sure everything went well as it could be... and in return, they got the heart-wrenching feeling of being single.

A worthy sacrifice. Especially since Kaibara got some really good pictures on his polaroid camera to pin up later.

[whitherward-art]

Two different versions of a piece I call "The Philosophy of Dandelions", inspired by and featuring the words of @headspace-hotel. I don't know which one I actually like better.

Print available here!

(Image description: Two versions of a painting that feature acrylic-painted dandelions against a watercolor backdrop of approaching thunder clouds. The dandelions have both floral and seed heads, and the seeds are being blown away by the wind. Each piece has the words "Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate, but cannot ever truly destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die." There are some differences between the paintings; the first is in a portrait orientation with a grayer-toned sky, and the words are overlaid via strips of gray paper with black text, while the second is in landscape orientation with a more yellow-toned sky, and the words are painted directly onto the piece in yellow and blue. End image description.)

[asterdisaster06]

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing. 

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two. 

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart. 

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off. 

It had gone silent after those words were uttered. 

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did. 

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for. 

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far. 

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset. 

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained. 

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment. 

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore. 

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing. 

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs. 

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly. 

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused. 

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup. 

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career. 

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper. 

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better. 

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction. 

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs. 

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained. 

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating. 

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face. 

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.  

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound. 

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion. 

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout. 

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

[glassrowboat]

Our Adventure. Venti.

Summary: A child of Mondstadt has recently been gifted a vision. A gift from the gods. Yet all she views it as is a decorative charm that invokes ire and fear in her very own heart, a babble she can't even control. The solution? The best bard in Teyvat, obviously!

Word count: 2400+

Authors note: Basically, I've been toiling away in my head what would happen if a vision user was struggling to use their newfound gift and I wrote this :)

The wind had a habit of carrying many things along it's ever flowing breeze, from leaves to the sweetest of songs, from love confessions to the dandelion seeds that truly marked Mondstadt as a land full of endless wishes and freedom. Tonight, however, there was a cry, a wail that even a banshee herself would be incapable of making as it rang in the young bard's ears. This was how the archon had come to know so many secrets that lay in the land he called home, and this was how he ended up below a closed window with pebbles in his hand.

A small thud could be heard on the sill, bouncing off the wood as Venti tried his best to not get hit with the smooth stone hurtling back down to the ground. When no answer came from that still weeping woman another pebble was tossed.

What plagued her was already known by many, far too many if anything. Gossip spread fast in these stone walls. Drunkards would talk about how they came across a random patch of grass just outside the city's gates dried out beyond compression. The local carpenter would talk about how he had to chop down a tree that suddenly became too unstable to be allowed to stand any longer, only to find out behind the untouched bark the inside was lacking any moisture that was so characteristic of fresh wood. The most notable of all however was the knights who said they had to escort a young woman home, too weak to walk as she knelt down right inside a ring of brown blades too stiff to wave in the wind like the fields of green typically would.

(Y/n), a child of Mondstadt recently gifted with a hydro vision.

The very same person who was on the other side of that window was struck with knock after knock as she glared at it with pure contempt, nose still running even as she picked up a random shoe. A heel with its pointed end should do some decent damage, right? So she held it tightly in her grasp, that is until the window randomly opened as if Peter Pan himself was trying to sneak into her darkened room. No candle lit to truly brighten up the scene of a red shoe hitting a green figure square in the face.

“No, no, that's some vampire shit I ain't about. Go find some other woman to prey on I- I ate garlic bread for dinner ya know?” Even with your vision blurred by tears you quickly grabbed the other shoe, getting ready to throw this one too.

Vampires can't enter without permission, right?

Well nevermind to that idea as the green figure landed on the floor having successfully passed through what was supposed to be a barrier of protection. All the while he was beaming at you with a smile that would make anyone want to punch him, even with his hands up in the air.

“That's not allowed….”

“Hello to you too.” Ah, you recognize that voice. The little pest that would run around the cobblestone streets all the while humming a tune that would be running on replay in anyone's head for hours after. “Can you put the other shoe down? My face already hurts from the first one.”

“I think you deserved it, you oversized fly.” Letting go of the shoe you let it fall to the ground as you got back up from what was an admittedly cowering position on the floor.

“Come now, what happened to you calling me a grand poet the likes no one has seen in this modern age? Am I not the next-” and you ended up throwing the shoe at him in the end- “Hey!”

You just shrugged, hands raising in the air in what could only be described as a whatcha gonna do about it motion.

Venti looked down at the shoe for a moment as it fell to the ground before kicking it back over to you, giving you free ammunition. “You could throw that shoe at me again or you- I was joking about the shoe! Please, spare me.”

“Flies usually get swatted.”

“Okay….different approach then.” Sighing to himself Venti walked over to, hand ruffling with something in his pockets before pulling out a handkerchief. The white square of cloth held out to you as it swayed in the wind coming from that still open window. “A fair maiden such as yourself shouldn't be crying, so I offer you this: let the best bard in Teyvat whisk you away on an adventure for the ages. We can make our grand escape right away!”

That's a great way to have missing person posters plastered up right next to the ones of the travelers sibling, and how well have those worked so far? Therefore your answer was an obvious “fuck that.”

“Please, with a cherry on top? And sprinkles too.”

Grabbing the handkerchief, and half tempted to throw it right back at him, you brushed it against your eyes. The fabric is surprisingly soft for something a bard who can barely afford a drink would be carrying, yet the lack of an abrasive texture appreciated nonetheless. “Why are you even here?”

“Well,” with a giggle Venti held his hand up, like he was in a play about to recite a sonnet in the middle of a stage with hundreds of eyes on him and him alone. If it was any other situation it could be an amusing sight, but he's still trespassing. “Let's say the wind guided me to you.”

It was hard to pinpoint why it felt so off-putting the way he said that, wistful in a way, but you didn't really get the chance to think on it more as Venti opened his mouth again. “What bard can stand hearing a fair maiden cry and not try and cheer her up with a song or two? Certainly not this one.”

“The wind?”

“Yup. Or maybe even Barbatos himself.”

“Have you ever gone to a doctor to see if you're clinically insane? Or have you just been hanging around Barbara and her musings of the church doctrine too much?”

With that Venti leaned over, a hand held up right next to his mouth so he could whisper, “the results came out inconclusive.”

Wait. What?

“Now come on! We have to get going before the sun fully sets and we have no light to help us see.” After all, who would want to be running around tripping over the loose cobblestones in the streets? “Walking through the dark is only romantic on beaches and sneaking around back alley ways to meet your lover, you know.”

So, he is insane.

Yet here you are taking out the hand he was holding out to you, letting that bard whisk you away on this promised adventure as he drags you out the window. (Trying your best to pretend you didn't notice him grabbing the vision you had tossed on the bed as he did). So while you didn't trip over the loose stones, at least not this time, you did fumble over roots as Venti pulled you under windrise. Leaves occasionally fall down from the tall tree, flowing back and forth as the wind catches the thin object before it finally settles down amongst the grass you two were trampling over as he pulled you to sit down.

Your knees hitting the dirt right before the stream winding along the plains to the coast, water softly rushing past you both as the sound hits your ears almost like a melody. Though a certain drunkard would be aghast to hear you say you prefer this over the strumming of his lyre he'd be plucking at any other time, even if it was just as a joke. Though admittedly it was odd not to see the ducks wading around, having gotten so used to seeing them so often from past visits trying to steal your lunch when you weren't looking.

Pesky little things they were, just like this brat.

“So, what's with the field trip?”

“I can't just pull you along for a midnight trip to my favorite spot?” The answer was clearly an obvious no. Not without a reason of course. “I give, I give, just don't have to glare at me like that. I've heard around town that you had a little incident.”

Oh great, so the rumor mill was doing its thing. What a goody. Just the thought of that scene again, of the hydro vision being cradled between your hands as the grass beneath you withered away to the point a patch of dead, dried out flora has your nose wrinkling. Not wanting to go over the image that played in your head like a highlight reel. A movie dedicated to your own inability.

“Is this the part you impart on me some sage advice?”

“I can.” With the wave of his hand, or more like a flutter of the earth's breath itself as a breeze swayed past you both, catching his braids and making them dance, Venti summoned his lyre. A certain blue glow reflecting off the wood from the gem sitting between you both. “Or we can sit here while I play a tune. It's up to you, (y/n).”

“I'd pick the latter in an instant.”

“But?”

“But it won't get me anywhere.”

Somehow even just the gold encased vision (or maybe the casing was a part of the vision, you didn't really know much about how that all worked) had a certain aura about it that felt daunting. Just an item. Just something as useless as an accessory if it wasn't being used by its owner. It was like instinct to avoid it, just like when you were a child and you had to learn the hard way not to touch that pan that had just been pulled off the still burning hot stove. For the two instances to be so comparable was like a funny, passing thought, but to you it certainly wasn't.

How can one laugh at their own misery without doing so just to mask their pain?

“Venti, what was it like when you first got your vision?” It felt like a natural question to ask, but he didn't really give you much of a real response to that besides strumming that lyre. A tune playing between you that you had heard at the tavern a good handful of times before.

“Let's just say I have always been a natural.”

“So you're useless to me.”

“Sounds like it, doesn't it?” Reaching over Venti picked up a windwheel aster only a little bit away, close enough he didn't have to shift at all to simply pluck it from the ground. “Though I wouldn't call the company of a friend useless.”

You couldn't help but huff at his statement, annoyed by the fact he had a point. “Fine. Sorry.”

He nodded in turn, not bothering to say anything about your mood today. Not when you both knew why you suddenly turned into such a grouch. “I can still explain how it feels for me.”

“As long as you promise not to say something cheesy like I become the wind itself.” That would surely make anyone in your position a little peeved. A prodigy sitting before you who has the ability to so naturally have control of something that threatens to turn on you. The claws of a wild animal that one can never say for sure will come to you for help or to attack.

“I can try!” Holding the flower out, those same orange petals that had become second place in the walls of Mondstadt began to spin. Turning round and round as you were left to stare at the little demonstration. “Like freedom itself has graced me. I can feel wind under my fingertips just as easily as I do strings or this flower for an example.”

“(Y/n), you may not currently know exactly what melody you are trying to share with the world yet, and that's fine! We all have to start somewhere.” Giggles came out between his words, easing the tension you couldn't help but feel at being so blatantly called out. “But just like always, a tune will still play, or in this case the sound of rushing water will be the music you grace me with. Either way, I can't wait to see what you can come up with.”

“My, how sweet, I almost want to wretch.”

“Hey, I was being serious for once!”

That's why this entire interaction feels so wrong.

Still, you glanced back down at the blue gem, watching how it glows so the grass it lays on is tinted with its color. Would it do the same to your garments once you get brave enough to hang it from your clothes like you've seen Amber doing? It was still a burner after all, but even a burner will cool. It just takes time.

“I wasn't expecting to see this side of you today.”

“Like what you see, my lady? Next, all we have to do is throw you in the water and see what happens.”

“I swear to fucking god-” No, you are not down for being thrown around by his wind currents. Just having to ride down one as you left your apartment to get here was enough for one day.

“Easy! Easy! We won't go back to throwing shoes at me, right?” He asked, hands in the air. Already surrendering just in case. The flower hanging in the air between you both. His doing, obviously.

“You're infuriating sometimes.” With a huff you snatched the flower from the air, pulling it close so you could look at it properly. It still had life left in it, still had water coursing through that green stem.

Your eyes were so focused on the petals you didn't even notice the smile Venti was giving you, soft in nature as he watched you stare down at the gift with a pout. You didn't need to know that he was just happy to see you free from tears again, to no longer have you be locked up in your own room from fear of something new. As for Venti? He didn't need to know you couldn't help but think maybe Barbatos did send him to you.

No, not all.

So just like any silent night at windrise, or as silent as can be with you two mouthing off at each other, the leaves rustled as branches swayed back and forth, and a tune, for the wind had a habit of carrying the sweetest of songs.

[elianaroselight]

Here is a song fic for @the-artist-grimm and their COTL Crimson Angel AU that is would gladly parish for. The song is 'Dandelions' by Ruth B and is an amazing song.

This takes place between the time Anthea realizes they are in love and Narinder's release from the Below.

Today had been a calmer day, which Anthea was grateful for. She was currently crusading through Darkwood for needed supplies, (wood, stone, camellias and the like), when she stumbled into a massive camilla meadow. It had sometime since the lamb last saw one as they had become fewer in number since she had defeated Leshy. It was a nice day. A soft breeze blew through, wafting the scent of the red flowers all around with a few petals and dandelion seeds float about magically.

As she admired the scene and the calmness she felt, words began to slip from her. "Maybe it's the way you say my name. Maybe it's the way you play your game. But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you. But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you." She sings softly to herself, mind wandering to her God and his kits. Her heart swelled with a fullness she hadn't felt in a long time, if ever.

"And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime. And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine. 'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions. Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine. And I see forever in your eyes. I feel okay when I see you smile, smile. Wishing on dandelions all of the time. Praying to God that one day you'll be mine. Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time." The lamb sings as she walks through the flowers, imagining doing so with Narinder. Anthea spins, feeling the grass under her hooves as she does.

A big grin spreads across Anthea's face as she gently runs her hands over the petals. Her mind wanders to the her recent daydreams about happily living with her god, Aym and Baal. "I think that you are the one for me. 'Cause it gets so hard to breathe. When you're looking at me, I've never felt so alive and free. When you're looking at me, I've never felt so happy. And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime.. And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine."

As she sings, Death's vessel only slightly registers the crown floating nearby, watching her. Too lost in the moment and the daydream to care. " 'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions. Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine. And I see forever in your eyes. I feel okay when I see you smile, smile. Wishing on dandelions all of the time. Praying to God that one day you'll be mine. Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time."

The lamb moves to sit amongst the flowers and dandelions, feeling the breeze flow through her wool. She carefully picks a white dandelion that was ready to blow it's seeds away. Anthea gazes at it in thought for a moment before continuing to sing, only this time it seemed like she was giving a message for the seeds to carry. "Dandelion, into the wind you go. Won't you let my darling know?" She blows on the seeds, sending them flying into the air. She watches them float about. "Dandelion, into the wind you go. Won't you let my darling know that?"

Suddenly, the lamb flings herself back, landing on a large patch of dandelions and sending a puff of seeds flying into the wind. "I'm in a field of dandelions. Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine. And I see forever in your eyes. I feel okay when I see you smile, smile. Wishing on dandelions all of the time. Praying to God that one day you'll be mine. Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time."

Anthea watches the dandelion seeds fly away, carrying her message to the one who holds her heart. The one who waits for her to visit.

Narinder was beginning to turn his sight away from what he was watching, having listened intently to her song and heart heavy with confusion as sadness. The crown floating down to sit by the vessel's head as he sings softly to himself what he wished he could say himself. "I'm in a field of dandelions. Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine."

[irrlicht-writes]

dandelions

“If ever I’d be reborn, I’d like to be a flower,” the bard says, while gently sitting in a field, picking flowers for no reason really. Geralt sits not too far from him, keeping an eye on Roach so that she might not eat too many flowers and sour her stomach.

“Hm,” the Witcher replies, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues undeterred, “as a flower, I could waive in the wind, dance under the sun and sing of worlds yet to come.”

“You sing plenty now,” the Witcher reminds him, “why not sing of those worlds now?”

The bard laughs, and it’s a clear, bright sound, and it engulfs the entire valley.

“If I sang of those worlds now, darling Witcher,” he plucks another flower, deep violet, and adds it to his ever-growing bouquet, “they would all tell me to shut up and sing the coin song again.”

“We both hate the coin song.”

“Indeed we do! It’s the price of fame, although I’d wish they would have forgotten it by now. I haven’t even sung it in ages! I’ve written catchier refrains.”

The Witcher snorts. “You have? I must have missed them.”

The bard throws some flowers in the Witcher’s general direction but as flowers do, they all fall to the ground before ever hitting their target. “I am wounded,” the Witcher says tonelessly, for nothing but mocking purposes. The bard huffs and turns his attention back to his flowers.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard says again, “I’d like to be a flower.”

“Hm,” the Witcher replies again, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues undeterred yet again, “as a flower, they would not hear me sing at all. But if they could hear me on the wind, they would love me all the more.”

“They love you plenty now, hearing you sing already.”

The bard laughs again, like the Witcher does not understand.

“No, my love, they do not. Oh they love me, yes, my prancing and my singing, and my flirting, and my twirling, but me, they love not. If I were not to sing, not to prance, not to flirt, not to twirl, not to joy their hearts for coin – they would take no interest in me. Another washed up wanderer on the road, they’d say! Throw him some mouldy bread and hope he brings no plague with him!”

“I’ve not met a many washed up wanderers brave enough to follow me into the fray.”

The bard smiles then, a whispered little thing the Witcher almost did not see. Roach wanders around, sniffing the different flowers and yet, she had eaten not a single one of them.

A pleasant silence befalls them in the valley, as the bard continues to pick more flowers – who he is picking them for, the Witcher does not know. The bard does things sometimes that make no sense, because he wants to. The Witcher has learned to accept this, and this is a pleasant thing to do, a pleasant place to rest.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard starts again, “I’d like to be a flower.”

“Hm,” the Witcher replies once more, because it is tradition now, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues – as per tradition – undeterred, “as a flower, mayhap a dandelion, I could be carried by the wind, being carried to where I need to go.”

“You travel plenty now,” the Witcher says, “no need to be carried by the wind.”

“That might be true, dear heart, and yet! How limited are we, bound to the ground beneath our feet, the saddle of a horse? The wind! The wind knows no limit, crescending into a storm. And! Darling Witcher, how would we know where we’re needed? We can only travel so far, see so many places. What if we’d be needed in the other direction? How would we know?!”

“All we can do is move forwards, bard. We do our best where we can.”

The bard plucks his last flower and turns to the Witcher. In his arms, he holds all the flowers he picked – colourful and pretty, a plenty a piece. In his hand, he holds a dandelion, with its seed ready to be carried away.

“That we do, my love. That we do.”

He looks at the dandelion in his hand, and the wind plays gently with his hair.

Quietly, he blows and the dandelion seeds get picked up by the wind.

The Witcher and the Bard look after them until they are out of sight.

Then, they move on to the next town, and the bard plays music in the tavern. He prances, and sings, and flirts, and twirls, and they love him.

Many, many years later, Geralt comes across a field of flowers.

In it sits a boy, picking flowers.

He notices Geralt from a distance, and looks up, waves, and grins brightly like the sun. He wears a flower crown made of buttercups and dandelions.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard whispers quietly, “I’d like to be a flower.”

[lateraniansweets]

Whether you write for this or not doesn’t matter much, I just really wanted to share this idea. Vash with a reader who knows he’s a plant and, seeing how this world has no wildlife, decides to make him a paper flower or flowers as a way of trying to connect with him.

awww thats so cute!!! i added embroidery flowers if that's okay with you!!

Flora

Plants like the flora kind do exist in No Man's Land but they're rare and mainly the rich own them. People would keep their plants under lock and key or spend their life savings buying a single one.

You could count on one hand the instances you've seen flora in your life.

All from a distance, of course.

At least until now.

Ship 3's biodome is in your eyes what paradise looks like. It's vast, with grass and all sorts of flora planted in sections, from vegetables, fruits, shrubs, trees and the decorative sort like roses.

It's the most flora you've seen your entire life.

Vash is two steps behind you, looking lovestruck as he watches you admire the flowers.

You stop in front of a group of violet flowers and turn to him. "What are these called?" you ask, gesturing to the flowers.

He hums, stepping closer and crouching down to get a better look, "They're campanula—bellflowers."

"Bell...flowers?"

"Mhm," he tugs at your hand, gently urging you to crouch alongside him.

Happily, you oblige, shoulders brushing against his.

"They're called that because they look like bells," Vash explains, caressing one as you lean against his shoulder, "See?"

"I do," you answer following his example and caressing another flower.

Subtly, Vash wraps an arm around your shoulders, intertwining his hand with yours. You lean against his touch, breathing out a sigh. A comfortable silence envelops the geodome, the artificial wind blowing as the suns slowly set.

For a moment you could imagine that the two of you were on Earth taking an afternoon stroll at a park.

"I wish we could bring some flora with us," you mumble against his shoulder.

"Same. I bet they'd smell nice."

Bringing a plant along with you on your travels would be improbable. Flora, as you've learned from Luida tended to be sensitive. As nice as the idea would be, you knew neither of you would be able to take care of it.

Vash presses a kiss on your temple, "We should go now. I promised Brad I'd help him with some maintenance. "

"I see," With wobbly legs, you stand up. Leaning down on the still-crouched Vash you give him a quick kiss on the forehead and on the beauty mark under his left eye. "See you later at dinner then?"

"Mhm."

You leave the geodome with an idea forming in your head, realising Vash left his coat in his room.

You and Vash leave Ship 3 with packs full of supplies provided by the Ship's residents and a freshly maintained arm.

Luida hugs you tightly, "I'm sure he'll love it." she assures, the smile lines on her face crinkling.

"Really?"

The older woman chuckles, "Yes, he definetly would. It's a thoughtful gift."

"Now," the older woman releases her hold you, "You two be safe out there alright."

"Alright." You walk away from the woman and down the sandswept metal ramp that leads out the SEEDS ship. Turning on your heelm you wave the woman goodbye before walking to Vash's side.

"What was that about?" asks Vash, taking your pack from you so he could carry it.

"Nothing..." Heat rushes up to your cheeks.

"It's definitely something!" He moves closer to you, "So..." Vash starts, curiosity in his voice as his hot breath fans in your in. "What is it?"

You stop in your tracks abruptly, making Vash bump into you.

"Check the inside of your coat."

"Huh?"

"Just do it, okay!"

"Okay..?"

Vash methodically goes through his many coat pockets, feeling for whatever this something may be.

Excitement bubbles up inside him but it quickly dies down when he feels nothing other than a couple of his own bullets.

"Mayfly," He pouts, "there's nothing in he-OH!"

Turns out that 'something' wasn't inside his coat but in the coat itself.

There were flowers sewed in his coat, red and green threads standing out against the blue cloth of the inside of his coat.

Vash brushes his thumb against the red flowers embroidered on the inside of his coat, right over his heart.

"They're..." His breath is caught in his throat.

You step closer, avoiding his eyes as you inspect your work. It was an amateur's work at best but it turned out well enough considering your skill and the time you had.

"Geraniums, " you finish for him, placing a hand over his, the prosthetic a familiar metallic cool. Finally mustering the courage to do so, you look up at him. "They're your favorite right?"

They are, It goes unsaid.

Vash told you about Rem and his time on the SEEDS ship. A hundred fifty years into the past humanity roamed the stars searching for a new home and with them they took remnants of Earth.

It's all distant to you. All you've known are the endless dunes of No Man's Land.

"I-I know it looks a bit wonky. I'm not the best at embroidery and-and—"

The packs Vash was holding are dropped down on the ground as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a tight embrace.

"I love it. Thank you."

"You-you do?"

"Of course I do!" Vash pressed a kiss on your cheek, "It's beautiful, Mayfly. Thank you."

You hug him back, pulling your bodies closer together, heart swelling with joy.

okay I kinda didn't know how to end this so duandnwbs. it's currently 3am and I'm stress writing because I've got a policy paper proposal thingie in a few hours ajdjabreb I'm so nervous aaaa

also I just realised I should probably title some of my stuff fjsneb

[hismourningflower]

"special day" ft kaeya + gorou x gn!reader literature content. fluff, maybe ooc, established relationships alexi’s notes. happy birthday to my dearest @yaminohimeyume ! thank you for being such a close friend to me, this is actually also your request you sent in - you have enough angst ma’am, you should have known i’d write you fluff instead !

I was scrolling and saw you asked for requests so, I went searching for two phrases so that I could decide what to ask... In the end I got two... either angst or fluff for Gorou, and if you feel like, for Kaeya <3

library waiting list. @soleillunne @lovingluxury @dumbificat @starryshinyskies @ryuryuryuyurboat @ainescribe @sangoqueenkoko

your lover is known for casually slacking off his work sometimes but regardless, KAEYA is a hardworking man. from taking up commissions from the other knights and running errands, or even training knights-to-be, the cavalry captain without his cavalry always has an excuse to be busy - or rather, appear busy. whether or not it be genuine work or an attempt at kicking his feet up during work hours, you're supportive and always there to ensure he's caring for himself.

this includes roping him home from the angel's share with the help of master diluc, the stench of wine heavy on his breath as he stumbles alongside the pair of you, his hands trying to shove your helping touch away as he urges "i'm married!" into the cool night air of mondstadt, much to both the amusement of yourself and diluc as you exchange glances.

it always includes you bringing his lunch to him, fresh from the good hunter - sara is quite fond of you, honestly - and all the times you've taken klee off his hands. that's the only time you can excuse him slacking off, in your eyes since by the archons, klee is a handful.

kaeya may or may not see your birthday and take it as a chance to squeeze himself out of the suffocating, stuffy air that is the knights of favonius headquarters. the empty vase on the kitchen table is filled with an array of your favourite flowers, colourful and basking in the golden light of the early morning sunrise that's casting its beauty onto the nation of freedom. they smell divine, sweet and floral accompanied with the breakfast that kaeya worked hard on; honestly a surprise that he knew how to navigate your shared kitchen enough to cook something.

the two of you spend the majority of the day wandering the bustling streets of mondstadt shopping, accompanied by the breeze so beautifully blessed by barbatos himself. one of kaeya's love languages may be acts of affirmation but his more commonly acted on love language is gifts. even if you try to shrug off his efforts throughout the day, kaeya is insistent on buying every little trinket and other that your eyes even so much as glitter at the sight of.

with the sunset as your witness, perched at the top of starsnatch cliff on a plaid picnic blanket, kaeya gives you your true gift - the one that had been purchased months in advance after he sought the help of jean. in his hands sits a small, plush velvet box that holds a necklace with a shivada jade gemstone cut so refined and glittering in the light of the sun dipping below the distant horizon. smiles adorn your faces as you make wishes on dandelion seeds, blowing them to be carried in the wind.

—

in hindsight, you had probably expected little to nothing from your workaholic partner as your birthday wrapped around. GOROU was hardworking, sure but sometimes you couldn't help but worry for his overall health. as his partner, it was your own hard work that kept the canine male on his feet during the trying times of the resistance.

little did you know, your hindsight would be incredibly wrong. gorou may focus solely on the resistance, his work as a general and the comrades around him however he is devoted to you, loyal to the one he recognises as his forever. with pointed ears and a wagging tail, gorou had already made plans months in advance with her excellency for your birthday - the hardest part was keeping it under wraps.

what can i say? the general of the watatsumi resistance is full of surprises, if people weren't already shocked from his prominent animalistic features and happy-go-lucky demeanour in a time of history being changed right before your very eyes, that is. the morning of your birthday, he'd already started your day before you had. gorou follows a strict regime daily and the man virtually exists only to follow schedules; he'll combust if he doesn't.

since gorou is always too busy to maintain his own health, you've always been the standing pillar at his side, ensuring he's fed and that he takes routine breaks out of his work to just breathe in the fresh air. this morning he wants to return all your kind acts, all the steaming plates of breakfast and packed bento boxes; always wrapped and made with the utmost of love.

the smell of food is the first thing you're greeted with when your eyes pry open, blinded by the spring inazuman sunshine that casts into the room through the open window, the curtains tied back and yet blowing gently in the warm breeze. gorou's humming is faint from the kitchen but you can make it out just enough to recognise that it's a song the soldiers take to singing around the campfire some nights.

after breakfast, gorou hands over his gift to you - one that albeit caused him a lot of pain that bared just for you, - a woven bracelet made of the fur of his tail. there's a sheepish smile on his face, cheeks dusted a light hue of pink as he rubs the back of his neck with a hand and admits just how painful it was to pluck fur from his own poor tail but despite the pain, the sentiment is there. he wants you to have a piece of him - literally - with you, especially when he goes to the battlefield with the chance of never returning to your side.

then the day takes its turn into the plans gorou has pre-emptively worked on to perfection, using this day as his chance to thank you for everything you have ever done for him as his lover. the beaches of yashiori island are plenty, your toes dipped in the sand and cool waves lapping at your ankles as you walk along the coast, hand in hand with your lover boy, so head over heels in love with you every time his eyes glance over to you and trail to that ginger bracelet clasped around your wrist.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | reblogs appreciated | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media. | divider by @/cafekitsune.

[billycorn]

Patchwork: Prologue

An explorers of sky au following the Hero is Darkrai theory, but after the events at Temporal Tower, Darkrai arrives in Treasure Town, determined to prevent the coming corruption of Hero.

This is the story of a man who believes himself utterly irredeemable. Yet, he refuses to fade away until he can save himself. If he could manage that, it might be the same as putting some goodness back into the world. Then, perhaps things could be different. Perhaps, he could've meant something to someone once more. Indeed, this story begins when he last held value.

The garden between worlds wasn't a cold place; quite the opposite in fact. A tree, gleaming white and huge, stood proudly. From its mighty branches hung glowing orbs, each one a different world. Every world radiated a warmth and light all its own. Seeds, little specks of light, drifted from these orbs, falling to rest amongst a sprawling forest. These smaller trees bore no fruit of their own, but sent roots deep into the garden, and boasted colours matching their parent world.

Countless Celebi flittered about the garden, tending to the trees and catching the seeds. They planted the seeds carefully, trying to provide some order to the garden. Each time a seed took root, a new Celebi was born. It would blink sleepily for a moment, then start to drift clumsily about, testing its wings: And, as if it had been born with nothing else in mind, it began caring for the garden.

What causes a new seed to sprout, and what they do, isn't exactly clear. Yet, that day, there was one clear moment which gave rise to a new tree. You see, Celebi aren't the only ones tending the garden. There's the Dusknoirs, too. It's their job to watch over the worlds and catch the souls that break free. The Dusknoir bare these souls, little balls of fire, to the wind, and they're carried far away.

Yet, today, as a soul leapt from one of the worlds, a Dusknoir caught it. Cradling it gently, Dusknoir ran a hand over it, a soft smile covering his face. "My, my, what kind of life did you live?"

The soul flickered, and it shifted colour, turning from a soft green to an unruly orange. Closing his eye, Dusknoir saw the face of a young boy. He was scared. He was crying.

That couldn't be right. This soul was older than the boy he'd seen, by at least ten years. What's more, this soul was stout-hearted, stalwart. The young man who this soul belonged too; he was strong.

Dusknoir drifted upwards, raising his hand and releasing the soul. It caught on the wind and began fluttering away. Yet, Dusknoir could not chase the image of that boy from his mind. With a cry, Dusknoir chased desperately after the soul, and upon catching it, looked at it again. That little boy was still there. He was turning each way, searching frantically. The boy's mouth moved and while Dusknoir couldn't hear it, he knew the child was crying out, calling for someone.

"You poor thing. You're lost. It's alright now. I'm here."

Moving back over the endless forest, and to the massive tree at garden’s heart, Dusknoir floated slowly towards his world. He wasn't supposed to do this, but he couldn't bear the thought of this soul leaving so soon. Slowly, he hovered into one of the orbs, hanging heavy on the tree’s boughs, and left the garden behind.

Returned to his world, Dusknoir hovered over grassy plains, his body flickering with the cold winds. The sun tried to beat down, but the clouds blocked it. A small human boy lay sleeping in Dusknoir's arms. The boy's eyes were rid-rimmed, and tears stained his cheek. He murmured pitifully and shivered in his sleep. Wrapping another arm around the boy, Dusknoir held him close, wishing he could offer more warmth to the child. Yet, his ghostly body only carried cool relief, soft in its coming.

Dusknoir took the boy, determined to raise him as his own, and gave him the name, Jasper. Dusknoir didn't know it, but at that moment in the garden, a seed dropped from his world. A new tree was born, and with it, a pink Celebi.

Years passed, steady and slow. Jasper grew, and in time, that weeping boy faded from Dusknoir's memory. This happy young man before him was a much better ending for that once small soul. Alas, Dusknoir failed to see, that boy was still there. Jasper's soul was unchanged. It was stout, stubborn, and sad.

During those years, Dusknoir's love, a father's love, sustained Jasper. It helped him stand tall, but when that love vanished, so too did Jasper's strength.

See, Jasper had been liked well enough. Thankfully, upon becoming part of this Pokemon world, he'd become able to speak their language. So, he grew up playing with the other children in the nearby village. He attended school with them and was raised alongside them.

Yet, without a Pokémon’s speed or power, without any real ability to speak of, Jasper was left behind. As his friends grew stronger and faster, a rift formed between them. The gap was small enough for Jasper to leap, but he didn't. Looking at it, all he could see was how deep it was. So, he sat and waited, too scared to jump and when Dusknoir grew old and passed away, Jasper was left all alone.

The young man set off across the countryside. He travelled the continent, seeing many brilliant things and meeting many kind people. Still, everywhere he went, he carried his grief. Like a cold embrace undercutting every warm thing, it lingered. Quiet, but relentless. He found nowhere to lay it down, and no one to help him carry it.

Jasper tried to be happy, tried to live in the moment, but just... couldn't. So, he set out for one final destination, a place Dusknoir had told him about.

Through wastelands, swamps, jungles, and mountains, he trekked. Finally, he come upon it, a sprawling forest leading high into the mountains. Deep in the forest, Jasper found a clearing. In which sat a strange archway. It was flat, black, flickering with blue light. The Passage of Time was just as Dusknoir had described.

As Jasper moved towards the Passage, there came a sound, like a fluttering of wings, and a little pink Pokemon came flying through the trees. It stared at him with massive eyes and twirled a slow circle around him.

Jasper swallowed nervously. "Are you Celebi?"

"I am. Who might you be?"

"Jasper. I've come to ask a favour. Please, send me back in time. So I can be with my father again."

Celebi shook it's head sadly. "No. If you went, you may be happy for a time, but all things die. That is simply the way of things. Left alone once more, what would you do then?"

Jasper knew she was right. It made logical sense. That's why he'd waited so long before coming to see her, but he'd tried. He had tried so hard to live in a way that would make Dusknoir proud. Now, he was tired.

Celebi looked upon the young man. She noticed his trembling lips and the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. She saw how tightly his fists were balled.

Celebi smiled softly. "There aren't many people out here. It's very quiet, and lonely at times. I would be glad for some company."

So, Jasper stayed with Celebi in their little forest. He built himself a proper home with her help. Celebi grew fond of Jasper, and she poured everything she had into helping him. Slowly, he seemed to come to life once more. He began to smile again. His infectious laughter roared throughout the forest. Celebi thought she'd done well; thought she'd helped this young man, given him a friend.

It was a brilliant act.

The mask Jasper wore became more comfortable and refined as time went by. Before long, he almost believed he had found closure in Celebi's company. Almost.

One night, as Celebi slept, Jasper took her gently in his arms. She mewled in her sleep, curling into his side. Moving slow, Jasper crept towards the Passage of Time, and leapt in, sending them tumbling through time.

Celebi woke with a start, bolting away, but Jasper grabbed her, his hand wrapping around her little body and pinning her wings. She squirmed and cried out, but his grip was like iron.

"Send me back!" Snarled Jasper. "Send me-"

Celebi's eyes shone and she screamed. A wave of energy burst outwards, slamming into Jasper. He was blasted away, striking an invisible wall and breaking through it, spiralling into the past.

When Jasper awoke, he was float aimlessly in void, light filtering in from somewhere: his body was gone, replaced by shadows, flickering in the lowlight. He found that his body felt light, and cold. Shadows dripped curiously from him and a sinister aura leaked out. A spiked red collar covered his face while a plume of white hair obscured one eye. The other eye stared out, its piercing blue gaze passing over everything. Darkrai.

With his newfound form, Jasper discovered new power. He could feel it deep within him. Reaching out with his mind, Jasper grabbed his aura and reeled it in, nestling it within his chest, like a ball of lead.

Turning his thoughts back to his newfound strength, Jasper discovered something else deep within him. Somehow, Celebi's attack had pushed time through him, giving Jasper his new form, and the ability to travel through time. He found he could open flickering portals, much like Celebi's Passage of Time, though he couldn't keep the gateway open for long, and it always shut behind him.

Jasper didn't spend long wondering how to use this ability. Travelling to his early years with Dusknoir was rather pointless: As Celebi had pointed out, the old ghost would simply die and Jasper would be alone again, though with himself for company (how horrible).

Jasper recalled a story Celebi had told him, about a tower, in a hidden land, which controlled the flow of time. If Jasper could sabotage the tower, paralyzing time itself, Dusknoir would not grow older; he would not die.

Leaping through time, Jasper quickly found the moment Dusknoir had brought him into this world. Jasper jumped one more year into the future and enacted his plan.

Like a terrible darkness descending upon the world, Jasper set upon Temporal Tower. In his cunning, he easily outmanoeuvred Dialga and stole the Time Gears, scattering them across the world. Time slowed to a crawl and eventually stopped. The sun grew cold. The world fell dark. Dusknoir lived.

One night (was it night? Dusknoir couldn't tell anymore), concern wearing at his old body, Dusknoir ushered a young boy to sleep, whispering assurances he didn't quite believe.

When the child began snoring quietly, a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway of the small home. Casting a Will'O'Wisp into the air, Dusknoir gazed upon the enlightened stranger.

"Can I help you?"

Darkrai crossed his arms. "You don't recognise me?"

"Should I?"

"No, no, I suppose not. Still, I would never forget you. I've missed you, Dad."

Dusknoir squinted, glancing back and forth between the stranger, and the child fast asleep in the corner. Eventually, Dusknoir's shoulders slumped, his eye shrinking in horror. "Jasper?"

"It's good to see you again." Jasper floated closer, arms outstretched warmly, but Dusknoir staggered back, raising his arm defensively. Jasper's face fell. "Dad, it's me."

Dusknoir's voice was breaking. "What happened? What did you do?"

With a sigh, Jasper sunk to the floor. He explained all that had happened, suddenly sounding very tired. By the time Jasper finished talking, Dusknoir was resting on the floor, one hand hovering near the sleeping child.

"Jasper, you need to fix this."

Jasper couldn't believe his ears. "What? But you're alive?"

"At what cost? The sun doesn't shine. The waves don't crash, and the wind doesn't howl. This world, and everyone in it, will slowly die."

"But you are alive," stressed Jasper.

Dusknoir scoffed, shaking his head. "This is it, then? I died, and all that's left of my son is a monster?" Dusknoir moved slowly closer, gripping Jasper by the shoulders. "Please, fix this now; before it's too late."

Darkrai's vision shook wildly, everything going blurry. A wild foreign sound roared in his ears. Darkrai didn't realise it was his own screaming until his voice gave out. At some point, Darkrai had plunged his hand into Dusknoir's chest, planting a seed of fear deep within the old ghost.

With a snarl, Darkrai whispered, "live."

Darkrai stumbled backwards, withdrawing his hand as a little boy came charging forwards, tears streaming down his cheek.

"Don't hurt him! Don't hurt my daddy!"

Darkrai's eye went wide. The boy was crying, his fists clenched and held up angrily. Dusknoir was slumped over behind him, groaning and clutching at his chest.

The noise pulled at Darkrai's ears again and suddenly he was racing away, melting into the shadows.

The little boy ran to his father's side, helping the old ghost sit up. Dusknoir coughed, cleared his throat, and slowly rose to his feet.

"Dad, are you okay?"

Dusknoir waved off the concern. "I'm alright, Jasper, but we need to go. There's something we need to do."

So, Dusknoir and Jasper, a mere child, set out, determined to find a way to set things right. Dusknoir knew of Celebi and believed her to be their best bet. So, they headed for her forest, but it was a long journey, and Dusknoir knew he couldn't make it.

As time passed (???), the seed of fear planted by Darkrai grew, taking root in his heart and distorting his thoughts. Before long, Dusknoir's mind would not be his own. He would be consumed by the need to survive.

Such were the thoughts running through Dusknoir's mind when Jasper stirred. The boy mumbled and stretched. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was skinny, dangerously so, and small cuts dotted his skin. In the lowlight it was hard to see, but angry bruises lurked beneath Jasper's skin. The Dark Future had already claimed countless lives, and as more Pokemon lost their minds, the world only became more dangerous.

"Jasper, I need you to do something for me."

The boy, maybe six years old, looked at Dusknoir with curious eyes. This dark world hadn't yet killed the child's spark, but Dusknoir feared this would be the final nail in the coffin.

"Celebi's forest should be just over those hills on the horizon. Go straight there. Don't stop. Don't look back."

"What about you?"

"Jasper, I have to go."

Jasper's face fell. He stumbled towards Dusknoir, hands clutching at the old ghost, as if trying to make sure he was still there. "What? No. No! We have to go together."

Smiling, Dusknoir cupped the boy's face in his hand, rubbing a thumb along Jasper's cheek. "I'm sorry, I can't go with you. You must brave now. Can you do that for me?"

Jasper hugged Dusknoir tightly and shook his head wildly.

Gently, Dusknoir peeled him away, grasping him by the shoulders. "Listen. You're not safe with me anymore. You need to run."

He tried to speak, but Jasper couldn't squeeze words past his blubbering.

Dusknoir's gaze softened. "I love you. No matter what, you are my son. Don't ever forget." Softly, Dusknoir pushed Jasper away. "Now, run."

Jasper fought against Dusknoir, trying desperately to get back to him, but the ghost held him at arm's length. Dusknoir clenched his eye shut, opened his ominous mouth and released an otherworldly screech. "Run!"

Still, Jasper refused. He kicked and clutched and did all he could to stay.

Stop. Please, just go. Don't make this any harder. I'm doing this for your good. Dusknoir's internal monologue ran on a loop, eventually coming to a crashing halt. If the boy wouldn't leave on his own...

"When the sun rises, we'll be together again. You won't be alone forever."

Dusknoir dropped into the shadows and sped away across the earth, towards the distant hills, and Celebi beyond. Screaming, Jasper chased after his father, but Dusknoir was too fast.

The old ghost disappeared, and Jasper could do naught but head for the forest, hoping that his Father would be there, waiting. He was only a foolish boy back then. He hadn't yet learned, hope only gets people hurt.

It was forty-eight hours later when Jasper arrived at the edge of Celebi's forest. His feet ached and his stomach growled ferociously. Dirt caked his body.

Stumbling into the trees, Jasper continued onwards. He was close. He was so close now. So where, where was Celebi?

Jasper stumbled through the woods for hours but couldn't find her little grove. Eventually, he collapsed. Leaning against a tree, he caught his breath. His legs were like jelly, they wouldn't move anymore.

As he rested, something caught his eye, on the edge of his vision. Just through the trees was a gleam of red, an apple. Instantly, Jasper was salivating. He threw himself forwards, crawling desperately towards the fruit.

His goal crept closer, but just as Jasper reached the apple, his fingers stretching for it, a small green lizard darted from the trees. It grabbed the apple and rolled away, shooting a bullet seed.

Whimpering, Jasper planted his arms over his head, waiting for the blow, but it never came. The bullet seed had soared just overhead, and the lizard was racing away through the trees.

Jasper pulled himself to his feet, one last burst of fear pushing him on, and stumbled after the lizard, crashing into trees as he went. "St-stop. My apple!"

Through the woods, Jasper chased the lizard. It was rather pathetic, really. The slowest high-speed chase in history. It only ended because Jasper finally burst from the trees, collapsing in a grotto.

The lizard stood nearby, apple in hand, staring at him with wide eyes. It shouted something and opened its mouth, purple flames roiling in its throat. A dainty pink hand stopped it.

"It's alright, Treecko," whispered Celebi. "I've been waiting for him."

[fics-she-wrote]

Dandelion

On a fine day in early autumn, Samantha Dale was leisurely strolling around the verdant grounds of Hogwarts with her friend Lenora Everleigh. They were enjoying the waning echoes of summer warmth bestowed upon them by the sun shining bright in the sky. As they walked, the distant chatter of students filled the air. Samantha noticed a patch of delicate white dandelions, their ethereal beauty standing out starkly against the lush green grass.

"Dandelions!" exclaimed Samantha. "Did you know, Lenora, that Muggles hold a charming belief that blowing upon a dandelion may grant one's deepest wishes?" she asked her friend as she picked one from the ground and blew on it, sending the seeds swirling around.

Seeds scattered in all directions – some heading towards the Highlands, others drifting towards the lake. One particular seed, guided by the wind, made a slow journey towards a gazelle, an unusual sight in the Scottish Highlands. As it neared the graceful creature, the gazelle transformed into Natty Onai. Natty blinked, her eyes wide in surprise, as the tiny white fluff hovered before her face. She swatted it away, her hand creating a subtle swoosh in the air. She then quickly scanned her surroundings, her heart pounding, to ensure her transformation had gone unnoticed.

Like a feather in the wind, the little dandelion seed was carried off towards the Beast Studies class, where Poppy Sweeting cradled a Puffskein as she attempted to convince Duncan Hobhouse that they were harmless.

"But look how charming they are,” said Poppy, stroking the small beast's soft fur.

"The issue isn't their looks, Poppy, it's their tongue. Every time I've come close to one of these creatures, it insists on shoving its tongue up my nose. I swear it's the most dreadful sensation out there, I tell you," replied Duncan, maintaining his distance from the furry creature.

"I'm quite certain you're exaggerating. They only engage in such behaviour when we are asleep…"

"Oh, I assure you, I've experienced it both asleep and awake," interjected Duncan.

Poppy sighed, rolling her eyes at his dramatics. "Just come and pet this one. I give you my word, it won't try to eat your bogeys."

Duncan eyed the little Puffskein with distrust. He slowly approached it before slowly extending an arm to pet it when…

"OH! My nose!" he exclaimed. The Puffskein had indeed invaded his nose, its tongue withdrawing as swiftly as it had entered and triggering a bout of uncontrollable sneezing from Duncan.

The forceful gust of air generated by Duncan's sneeze sent the tiny dandelion seed floating haphazardly away once again.

The air carried this lone seed towards the bustling bell tower courtyard, where students were relishing the pleasant weather. Many practiced their flying skills with varying degrees of success. Leander Prewett, for instance, had difficulty staying on his broom, much to his annoyance. Fortunately, his broom hovered less than a foot off the ground, so his falls injured his pride more than his body. After yet another tumble, he huffed in frustration, unintentionally sending the seed spiralling upwards. Imelda Reyes, zooming past on her broom, caused the seed to twirl and be swept away in a new direction.

As the tiny dandelion seed danced in the wind, it found its way toward Garreth Weasley. He was in the midst of demonstrating his potion-making skills to a group of awestruck first-year students. With a small vial containing a greyish liquid, he held their attention. He then theatrically produced some dried mint leaves from his pocket, their crisp, refreshing aroma wafting through the air as he presented them to his attentive audience. With careful, deliberate movements, he crushed the leaves, allowing the small bits to flutter down into the vial. The liquid began to slowly change colour, shifting from a dull gray to a vibrant green. As it transformed, it also started to bubble. Gradually, smoke began to rise from the vial, carrying with it the sharp, acrid scent of the potion. Sparks followed, their bright light causing the students to gasp in surprise. An expression of panic appeared on Garreth's face as the small vial exploded in a loud bang. He attempted to run but felt a firm grip on his collar.

"Not so fast, Mr Weasley," came the gruff voice of Professor Sharp, the Potions Master.

As Professor Sharp was about to reprimand the young Gryffindor, the tiny seed landed on Amit Thakkar's shoulder, hitching a ride into the castle.

Inside the castle, the seed was carried through a labyrinth of stone corridors. The distant, muffled sounds of life echoed around as Amit made his way to the Central Hall. Upon arrival, the sight of a fountain graced with cavorting mermaids greeted him. It was here he spotted Cressida Blume and made his way towards her. Cressida's face lit up when she saw Amit approaching.

"Hello, Amit," she greeted warmly.

Returning her smile, Amit was about to speak when he noticed Cressida reaching towards his shoulder.

"There was a speck of dust," she explained, her fingers brushing the dandelion seed off his shoulder. With that, the seed was whisked away once more, carried by the invisible currents stirred up by the bustling students.

The tiny seed continued its journey through Hogwarts, twirling and pirouetting high above the students' heads. It danced in the air, silently observing the vibrant tapestry of life unfolding below. Its path crossed with Ominis Gaunt, who was seated on a wooden bench in the lively Central Hall, absorbing the surrounding symphony of chatter, laughter, and the echo of footsteps on stone. Suddenly, his nose wrinkled as a foul smell akin to rotten eggs mixed with stale mud invaded his nostrils. Not far from his spot, Everett Clopton had unleashed one of his dungbombs. Ominis groaned, his face contorting in disgust as he frantically waved his hand in front of his face to dissipate the unbearable stench. The air movement from his motion caused the seed to be swept off its course and drift back into the bustling crowd of students.

The seed eventually lodged itself in the chestnut curls of one Sebastian Sallow. Clutching an antique-looking book, Sebastian headed towards the library in search of one person in particular. His search on the ground floor proved fruitless, and so he ascended the winding staircase. On the top floor, he finally found her. Astraea Morgen, completely engrossed in a book, stood before a towering bookcase, her eyes darting across the pages. To catch her attention, Sebastian cleared his throat, the sound echoing softly around them. Astraea's eyes shifted from the book to Sebastian, her eyebrows arching in mild surprise. He then placed his book on the worn wooden desk attached to the bookshelf and started flipping through it to find what he wanted to show her. As he was doing so, Astraea's gaze was drawn to something white lodged in his hair. She pursed her lips and exhaled, her warm breath dislodging the little dandelion seed from Sebastian's hair.

"Why did you do that?" asked Sebastian, his gaze meeting Astraea's, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

"You had a little something in your hair," responded Astraea, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes at his slightly flustered demeanour.

Thus, the little dandelion seed floated away from the pair and landed on top of a book that was being magically returned to a shelf high above the others. And so there the journey of our dandelion seed appeared to end, or so it seemed…

Many years later, a young Ravenclaw girl was carefully examining the titles of the books on the shelf.

"Ah! There it is!" exclaimed Alice Beaumont before hearing Madam Pince's stern shushing. "Simon!" she whispered, unable to contain her excitement, "I found the book!"

A boy with tousled chestnut hair and a constellation of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks emerged from the corner of the bookcase. With a flick of her wand, Alice pulled the book towards her through the air.

"Ugh, look at this," Alice grimaced, "it's covered in dust… And is that a dandelion seed? How long do you think it's been there?" she asked, her eyes fixated on the tiny white fluff.

Simon looked at the seed, then at her. "It's a dandelion seed, Alice. They come and go every year, so it's probably from last summer or something."

Alice shrugged, the corners of her mouth turning up in a small, thoughtful smile. "Still, it deserves to be free." She gently opened a nearby window and then delicately blew onto the book, sending the dust and the dandelion seed dancing into the outside world. And so, the little dandelion seed, now basking in the golden sunlight, floated away on yet another adventure.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this ficlet, which came to me because of a song.

[quirkle2]

more zombie au :] (1.2k words)

The odor of rot has joined the damp growth of life from pots. Even if some things die off without human aid, there are always stronger elements that thrive in their absence.

The aisles are overgrown. Ritsu brushes past the vines as gently as he can, wooden floor groaning under his worn soles. There’s a gap of empty space in the middle of each aisle that he slots through, eyes roaming the shelves of largely useless things. Stronger stems snag onto his backpack and he tugs distractedly while perusing the labeled pots along the tables.

The barn is quaint, and Ritsu thinks he would love to stay. Moss eats at the boards under his feet and bugs swarm around him in the hot air incessantly, but it’s peaceful and there’s a constant sprinkle of sound to his ears that have grown so used to silence. Whoever owned this place beforehand put up a few wind chimes indoors—they must’ve always had the front entrance open for customers.

It’s a quiet little homemade garden center, or something similar, on the side of the highway. It’s an overgrown property with something dead in the backyard that Ritsu refuses to acknowledge or let Shigeo near. The shingles and boards in the roof have been replaced with polyethylene sheets—a barn-turned-greenhouse, uprooted from the hay and cattle it likely used to house and settled back into the Earth to be a paradise for plants.

There’s a large branch hanging through a hole poked into the plastic overhead. It sways with the wind and the chimes that follow, and Ritsu whistles with the leadless melody and gives it a direction while he studies old seed packets.

They didn’t stop here for any particular reason—a garden center doesn’t have much for apocalypse survivors, but Shigeo has always liked overgrown things. He’d always enjoyed taking care of their mother’s plants back home, and then Reigen’s at the office. His brother likes the humidity of greenhouses and the smell of soil and dirt and must.

He sees the top of Shigeo’s head over the aisles, across the barn. He walks past a shovel hanging on the wall and yelps out a grunt when it clangs to the floor behind him. Ritsu shakes his head and smiles, running his fingers along faded price tags.

The feeling of greenhouses has always had this… wet fullness, to Ritsu.

When he breathes in it’s like he can taste the life that breathes out and it feels like a conversation, a question and an answer, both of which he’s not sure how to articulate. The leaves wave to him and he waves back, the once-active sprinklers pepper his skin with dots, with compliments, with proclamations they are eager to share. The vines weave between fencing just to reach him, just to talk.

He understands why Shigeo likes it, and why he’d always asked to accompany their mother on trips to get new seeds. Ritsu hadn’t really understood, then, how pretty it could be, how full it could feel.

Shigeo had always been right about loving the little things. Ritsu wishes he’d seen that sooner.

His brother ambles down the aisle ahead of him and he listens to the quiet patter of his sloppy footwork, moving around a table of seed trays. His whistles carry across the barn, sort of aimless in their own right instead of leading the wind and the chimes somewhere worthwhile, but the sounds soak into the overhead plastic nicely, so he keeps going.

He pulls back a layering of vines and leaves to scan the contents of another shelf, and then he notices Shigeo stop in his peripherals. His dirty shoes stay planted in the corner of his vision, leaves burying the toes, and Ritsu looks away from the products.

He means to say something, to ask him what’s up even if saying things to Shigeo very rarely results in productivity, but he stops when he realizes his brother’s head is… tilted.

He’s looking at him with as much inquisitiveness as his dulled down awareness can muster, pale eyes flickering across Ritsu’s face like he’s working out some puzzle. He instinctively stops whistling, brain lagging behind on this new info of this new behavior, and the sound fizzles out into a little huff of air that leaves the greenhouse feeling oddly empty.

Shigeo studies him for a moment longer, blinking slowly, and then he straightens his head out as Ritsu stares back. His brother’s gaze lingers there on his mouth, like he’s still confused, like he still expects something to happen.

Ritsu blinks once, twice. The wind chimes call as wind pokes at his greasy spikes, as it prods at the ends of his jacket and fills the silence with a different flavor of itself. The interest in the zombie’s eyes fades a little, gaze straying to the vines around them.

Very tentatively, Ritsu wets his lips and blows. The whistle grabs his brother’s attention immediately, and he’s suddenly tilting his head like a curious dog.

He can’t help the laugh that spills out and makes the whistle a mess of exhales. His shoulders shake a little and he hurries to keep the tune steady and consistent; a few seconds pass and Shigeo tilts his head the other way, exhausted eyes big and more alert than they’ve been in days.

Ritsu experiments, and ventures around with the sound—goes lower and higher and watches his brother twist his head back and forth like he’s trying to understand calculus. There’s something very innocent about it, about the look in his eyes that reminds him of when they were kids and their father would show them magic tricks.

It’s muted by the ever-present fog there in his pupils, but Ritsu thinks he sees a spark of that life in them, of that curiosity born from a mind that knows little. He gives him a simple sensation, a simple experience, and his brother is eating it all up like he’s four again, like he’s new and everything is colorful and unknown and big.

Ritsu watches Shigeo tilt his head back and forth, watches the rusty gears behind his window panes move. He changes tactics, because some sad part of him tells him to, and whistles Shigeo’s favorite song instead.

He remembers the name, but he doesn’t need the name because when he thinks of the tune he thinks of his brother, and that’s all that matters. It’s happy, because Shigeo likes happy music. It’s chipper and yet it meanders, like it’s willingly getting lost, like it’s wandering where it wants to and it’ll eventually find its roots again. It’s happy the whole time. The whole adventure.

Shigeo stops tilting his head, and the gears behind his eyes churn a little bit faster. His gaze clings to Ritsu’s and his brother makes actual eye contact, sinks his own being into Ritsu’s head when he’s least prepared for it. The recognition in his gaze has his soul souring.

He keeps whistling. He doesn’t want to stop, because Shigeo feels like Shigeo right now, and he doesn’t want that to stop.

His brother stares. Ritsu’s grief tints the music.

[manytoonepoet13]

"May My Body Carry Time and Unwanted Emotions." (Cielomort Vessel Theory) – Aozora no Memory.

Sooooo, I've theorized that Ciel used his body as a vessel to store all of those negative emotions, to store the essence of the things that are important to people so he can lure the SEEDS and take them out once and for all in one go.

This came to mind because of the lyrics:

"The rippling bitterness, just drink it all up quietly..."

"Even though things may change during these dizzying days... Leave only your smiles for I will tuck away your loneliness into those clouds."

"Cut out the clouds and the blue sky... For they are the footprints of this waving memory, this memory of the blue sky."

"Even if those clouds that rode on blowing wind will never return... We'll continue to believe that the future will allow us to meet you again."

Let me discuss it lyric by lyric.

So, "The rippling bitterness, just drink it all up quietly." refers to how he used his body to store the negative emotions, therefore the flavor of those emotions being bitter when he "drink it all up quietly" as the lyrics would suggest. Now, I have no idea how this would work, maybe if he'd subject himself to immense hatred? Or if he uses some kind of spell to store all of those negative emotions instead? I have no idea, I just know that he will be using his body as a vessel, or more fittingly, as a bait.

"Even though things may change during these dizzying days... Leave only your smiles for I will tuck away your loneliness." - this still refers to him using this body as a vessel, but here, it's more of talking about the process in preparing his body to be used as a vessel.

"For I will tuck away your loneliness into these clouds." again, using his body as a vessel and how he's planning on doing it.

"Cut out the cotton clouds and blue sky... for they are the footprints of this waving memory, this memory of the blue sky." - so here, basically what I initially wrote for this line is that the cotton clouds and the blue sky symbolizes the bad memory of the past timeline, and to cut them out means to shut those bad memories and emotions away to make room for better ones. But I still think my hypothesis was true, there's one thing that I missed, which is the meaning of Cielomort's name; dead sky. So, if my theory is correct, and that he indeed used his body as a vessel to store the negative emotions to lure in the SEEDS then sacrificed himself, then to cut out the cotton clouds and the blue sky not only means to shut the bad memories out, but to also kill Cielomort, to kill the dead sky to give way to the new, blue sky that will cover Fragaria in only happiness for eternity.

Think of exfoliating to remove dead skin cells to make way for newer, healthier ones.

And finally "Even if those clouds that rode on the blowing wind will never return... We'll continue to believe that the future will allow us to meet you again." basically your usual 'he may not be with us physically, but he will always be with us in spirit and in our hearts because he's always looking down on us and his memory will continue to live on.' this especially applies to Ciel's fame. You have that then add in his sacrifice, his legacy would be one for the books, the blue sky symbolizing his sacrifice for the betterment of Fragaria even if he's not there to witness it himself. Which actually relates to yet another line "I wish to share it all with you, it would be nice if I could be within that "everything". But it's alright if your sky continues to remain blue." so long as the people of Fragaria will be happy, he will be happy himself as well en if he physically, and emotionally can't. He will.

Also, this essence of things stuff talks about Willmesh's involvement. So, remember my poem "The Genius of a Novelist"? Where basically I talked about how Willmesh had a bigger role in all of this and that's why there are books in the mv. And since, according to the website, Willmesh can grasp the essence of things, I believe that is his role, to grasp the essence of said things and store them into Cielomort to execute their plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The knights ask nothing in return for their love."

More theories + poems:

Blue Bouquet — A Bittersweet Love. "May the Clock Strike Thrice." Aozura no Memory – The Genius of a Novelist.