👏🏾Education 👏🏾is 👏🏾a 👏🏾right,👏🏾 Not👏🏾 A👏🏾 Service 👏🏾

God I really wish carrying stuffed animals around with you was socially acceptable

From Green to Blue

Summary:

When you look into his eyes, all you see is indifference. But when he looks at her, all you see is love.

Chapter One: Dull green eyes

Eren leaves you for your best friend. As you wander the cold streets of Shiganshina, you wonder were everything went wrong.

Chapter 2: She has his heart

You have yet another reminder that Hannah has his heart.

Chapter 3: Hannah's story

Hannah's side of the story.

Chapter 4: What you have

Armin and Hannah team up to help you.

Chapter 5: Memories

You reminisce with Armin about your relationships. And Biannca confronts Hannah and Eren.

Chapter 6: Prelude to confrontation

After seeing Biannca, you decide to confront Eren and Hannah.

Chapter 7: Confrontation

You suddenly feel nothing.

Chapter 8: Darkness before the light

The death of a love.

Chapter 9: Darkness

You think of white walls, the suffocating remembrance of your childhood. You finally say goodbye to Eren.

Chapter 10: Indifference

Slowly Hannah sees the light go out of Eren's eyes. And wherever she goes, pieces of Y/n's remains.

Chapter 11: Kind of dizzy

You leave behind the golden sunset and mountains. It is back to the grey city for you. The white walls close in on you. And that is when your world collapses.

A new revaluation changes everything.

Chapter 12: Reminiscence

After realizing nothing will be the same again, Eren reminiscences about the past.

Chapter 13: Hell

You prepare for your confrontation with Eren and Hannah.

Chapter 14: Breaking point

Everything falls apart for Hannah.

Chapter 15: Into the cage

Eren makes an offer that your just might take.

Chapter 16: Fear

You move in with Eren.

Chapter 17: Blurred and buried

Being back in the apartment makes you relapse, with the bit of progress you made evaporating. You start to lose yourself. The memories you hold are blurred and buried.

Chapter 18: Reopening old wounds

You think back on how your intimacy with Eren is forever sullied. Meanwhile, Eren feels old feelings reawaken.

Chapter 19: Compelled

Summary: The thoughts of Eren with another woman compel you to act, or rather, self-destruct.

Chapter 20: Time passes

Hannah reflects.

Chapter 21: A mother's shadow

You had never felt more lonely. Even after doing what you think is right, everything feels wrong. Armin then drops by and the two of you have an important conversation.

The first thing you remembered when seeing Eren was his eyes. You never remembered seeing eyes that green. It was those eyes that drew your attention to him. Those eyes that brew you into him. You remembered the way he looked at you. It gave you a feeling of euphoria that you thought would last forever. But recently, that has faded. Now when he looked at you with indifference. You weren’t sure when this had happened. You chalked it up to Eren having a hard time at work. It started with him being distant. You tried talking with him, but he would blow you off. Then he would leave at all hours and not answer your calls. It was at that point that you wondered if he was seeing someone. But every time you tried to speak to him about it, you were called paranoid. That was where you were naïve. Because now he only looked at her with those eyes.

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𝐈 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝄞

Genre: fluff, slight angst, slight smut

Characters: Yoshida Hirofumixfem!studentreader

Warning: possessiveness, stalker, death, blood, gore, mature scene, knife, underage drinking

Synopsis: It's a typical student falling in love the most popular student, but nothing is ordinary when she finds the truth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The morning breeze outside woke you up, slightly shivery despite wearing a coat that you mother insisted you to wear. She was afraid you'd catch cold and have red nose the whole day would make you look like Rudolph the red nose reindeer.

You shook your head thinking how your sibling would tease for having red nose, it's stupid but he's only young he'd pick on you just as much you tease him whenever his crush was around. You stuffed your hands inside your pocket slightly cursing to the weather it wasn't helping.

You could only wish you could stay inside your warm bed and just sleep, but you didn't you chose to go to school since you knew missing school for the fifth time wasn't a good idea and you were behind your classes, you walked to school with you head down since you were pushing yourself to at least be productive since the past few days you were burnt out.

Especially when you have classmate who ask you to do their essays and other homework, you earn money from doing so but honestly it was taking so much of your time that you end up sleeping late or sleepless nights.

You hid this from your parents, after all they don't want to see their daughter was being treated like this afterall you were invincible to everyone, maybe the teachers don't care if you still don't show up to class today, that made you stop right in front of you school, few minutes before the bell rings you still debated over the fact of leaving or staying.

As you turned around you suddenly bumped into someone chest.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You rubbed your forehead as you felt his hands on your shoulder, you looked up meeting a black haired boy with piercings on, his eyes met yours before he smiles at you.

Rubbing the back of his neck as he was seemingly flustered.

"Are you okay?" You simply nodded, you were lost for words he was just incredibly good looking he swiftly moves away past you as he walks inside your feet just moves on it's own.

You changed your shoes before heading to your class, you seat behind the class, it was right next to the trash can but somehow it wasn't so bad after all it gives you the view watching the trees sway and the cloudy sky. You mutter 'excuse me' as you make your way back, just as you place your bad down students came to your direction dumping their notes books on your table. You flinched with their slamming carelessly, you knew the drill it means to do their homework.

The girls snickered at your pathetic state, you could do was stare just as the bell rings again your homeroom teacher came in. The class representative stood up as everyone follows. You quickly gather the notebooks away from your desk but one had fallen the other boys looked at you before they roll their eyes.

"You may all sit down." The teacher announces. You were about to reach down for the notebook but suddenly you felt a hand tug your hair harshly, you let out a whimper.

"Hey, you better not mess this up just because you've been gone for awhile this doesn't stop." The teacher's eyes fell on to your direction but she couldn't see clearly what was the ruckus going on at the back.

"Himari-san what's going on over there?" Her voice was stern rather than caring, she quickly retracted her hand as she pat the back of your head little bit harsh, too much damn volleyball her hand was heavy.

"Nothing, I was watching over her head since she was dangerously close to get hit by my desk." She gave her a wide smile, the teacher took a quick glance at you as you took the notebook inside your bag. She quickly averted her eyes away but the girl beside you gave you a death look before showing you her middle finger.

You felt tears were about to fall from your eyes, you hid your hands under your desk as you clutch on your skirt trying to fight away the need to cry.

Just before that, there was a sudden knocking.

The door opened showing the principal with two boys behind him, the principal greeted the class then the two student followed behind him.

"These two gentlemen will be joining you, take care of them." The principal bid good luck before waving as he walks out, the homeroom teacher encourages the two new student to greet themselves.

"Hello, I'm Denji." The boy with blond scruffy hair tiredly wave, the boy beside him was the one who I bumped into just this morning.

"Hello, I'm Yoshida Hirofumi, please take care of me." He smiled just then the girls started shrieking over, even Himari was clearly drooling over him.

Instead of staring I just looked away, not long after he might start joining everyone else dumping homework, essays maybe even ask for cheat sheet in exams. I was ready to expose everyone but I couldn't I was a coward, I don't want my father to lose his job nor my mother to get called by harsh names neither do I want my brother to lose all his friends.

It's such a unjust life, I hate everything yet it never stops even in my dreams I end up crying remembering that one moment things went beyond control.

ꕥ throwback ꕥ

It was November, I messed up again. I lost Mina's notebook even though I swore it might have been at my house they didn't believe me. She got scolded by our history teacher since she was the only one who didn't have homework, she blames it on me because I forgot that her homework was beside my desk, she cussed, hit, punch and even threaten me that my father will lose his job at the corporate.

I had no power, I was weak, I don't have a title neither do I have a chance to stand against them. I cried and cried that day they followed me as I walk home, everyone was there they told me to stand on the bridge.

With shaky legs I followed, I sobbed in front of them as they only took photos and video of me. I begged them to stop, my vision was blurring as I hold tightly to the scarf my brother gave me for my birthday.

"Say it out loud! We can't hear you." One of them shouted, laughter followed.

"I'm a stupid whore, I'm useless, I'm a trash person." I shouted Mina clapped as she walked toward giving out her hand.

"I forgive you." She smiled, just then she suddenly pushed me off the bridge, before I knew it I was falling to the river. In death I never wanted it to be them the last thing I'll see, I want to hear my mother's humming her sweet melodic voice, my brother's endless teasing and he always knock on my door bidding goodnight and I'd kiss his forehead as he rubs it off, and my father. I miss our endless night ride whenever we want he'd even take me out to eat even at late nights.

But wouldn't it be better?

That I'm gone.

They won't be harmed anymore, right?

I felt something moving around me, I felt like I was floating, something moving then splashing.

It was ticklish, I slowly open my eyes I looked around and saw darkness but the water was clear, glowing as I watch thousand of koi swimming around.

"You would be a bitter on to eat." A voice echoed, I looked around only to be met by a female who was naked but her parts was covered by her long dark hair, her eyes were fully black as she has gills on the side of her cheeks, her pointed nose and large fangs that was peaking out of her crimson lips.

She was pale yet with her grisly appearance she look rather elegant yet terrifying.

"I can smell your anger from here, it follows with sadness. I prefer to eat men however my children deliver a woman instead." Her slim pointed fingers caress the koi that swims in her direction.

"I guess you and I know what it feels to be alone. Suffer alone, cry alone, we never learn don't we?" Her voice was sultry, she moves closely it came to my view that her legs were covered in scale, it shimmers with holographic colors appearing she sit beside you as she carefully observes you with her fingers playing with your hair.

"I know, make a deal with me." She said, you looked at her confuse written in your eyes it cause her to giggled as she clasp her hands in delight.

"One thousand years and finally I found a perfect one. I'm the koi devil, I'm not that powerful nor harmful towards humans but I can only assure you wealth, luck and power in life." She hummed tracing her finger on you as she stop in front of you.

"You have no clue, do you?" It came out as a whisper, her face falls into sadness.

"You died, my koi took pity on you. It'd be waste for you to die now don't you think?" Just as she said that I realize I wasn't breathing.

She used her finger pointing to my chest were my heart was. Her bores into mine as she closes the gap her lips was in my ear.

"What do you say kid? Make some risk to live again, don't you want to live?"

ꕥ End of throwback ꕥ

The devil left a koi symbol on my left chest, it doesn't hurt since I have gotten use to it. I woke up in the hospital my parents were outside talking with the doctor and my little brother who was curled up beside the window I could hear him sobbing.

That day I thought meeting the koi devil was just a dream but it wasn't, they don't see it, none of them could see the koi symbol on my chest.

The deal was real she gave endless abundance in our life, a new home a new car we moved out few days after I woke up in the hospital, I move to a different school but nothing changed I was still the same I live the same life that I thought would change, money can't even buy me a new life.

I heard shuffling that instantly stopped me from spacing out.

I realized Yoshida took the seat in front of me while Denji took the seat beside him. He turned as he gave me a smile followed by a wink. I instantly place my palms on my cheeks.

I heard the girls scoff at me, just when the day continues on and the school lunch bell rings I realize I left my wallet it was in a different bag. I dislike about myself is how forgetful I can get.

"Hey aren't you going to get lunch too?" I was surprised Denji talked to me, I just shook my head. Suddenly a gurgling noise coming from stomach made me even more embarrassed.

Yoshida turned around as he place his lunch bag on my table, "I have made a lot this morning, share it with me." He hands me extra chopsticks as Denji drag his chair and sit beside the table before munching down on his own food, they shared jokes and made me laugh every second, Denji who was talking while munching as some few food particles kept spewing out of his mouth only made me laugh since Yoshida kept telling him to stop talking while eating. He even kept giving me more even when I'm starting to feel full he said that seeing me eat makes him full, I wish it stayed as this forever, Yoshida being kind and Denji won't see me different like a trash that everyone calls me.

I begged in my mind, 'please don't let this change.'

After the day, Yoshida was surrounded my girls left and right, I even got pushed and bumped into no one even apologized as they all swarmed him.

"Man, he looks ungrateful if that was me I'd never hesitate to be cocky. I'd feel like I win in life." Denji turned to you as you both walk out, he notice the amount of notebooks you have in your arms as he lend a hand to help you carry them.

But he noticed the name written in front, he can't help but wonder.

"Will you be sending this to the faculty or something? None of these are yours." He mentions, you quickly shook your head but you had no idea what to tell to Denji, you didn't even dare to think you'd tell him the truth.

You heard Yoshida calling out to the two of you, panting as he manage to escape a group of his fangirls.

"Let's go, I don't need more girls around me." The three of you ran off the voices died down, Denji walks home as Yoshida insisted walking you home.

Just as you reach to your place you were quick to bid Yoshida farewell. But he suddenly reaches out to your hand.

"Can you help me in some classes, I don't really want to be left behind plus asking Denji about school is the last thing I'll do since you saw him snoring throughout the day." You giggled as you nodded.

"Great, my place or yours?" You froze, replying 'what'

He suddenly blushed too, since the question sounded a little bit different. "I mean, we can go to a park or library maybe some-"

"I'll meet you to your place instead. My brother tend to be loud since he always bring his friends over, it will only distract us." He nodded, agreeing as he let go his hold to your wrist.

"See you tomorrow." He waves off, just when you enter you mother who was evidently smiling like a mad woman.

"Was that a boyfriend?" She giggle like a teenage girl in love.

"No, he was just nice to walk me home."

"Yeah, definitely not a friend more like boyfriend." She continued to tease.

"You know that's how I end up with your father, eleven years of friendship only after college we got you. Maybe it could be the same with him." You were blushing, as you quickly make your way upstairs.

Days passed, exams were near then after that will be a Hanabi festival you were excited and half hoping that Yoshida would ask you out.

He has been the same since day one in school, he'd walk you home, share his overloaded brought lunch he'd even make you bento, he'd pick you as his partner that makes Denji feel left out but he'd only complain that he hasn't been able to pair up with you, he'd end up getting paired by another student, Denji only likes school for food. Maybe even seeing girls during PE classes, Yoshida would drag him away since he'd be seen as a pervert. Each day felt much different it only felt different since they came, maybe life was starting to much better and that's how you want it to be even when they are the only friends you have you wouldn't dare ask for more.

Maybe you do, because it has only been days that you started to develop feelings for Yoshida. Even if girls swarmed him to no end they had no idea how he really is and you don't even dare tell them everything, you know where he lives, what his personality is like and even watched his favorite movie, he's a good cook and he makes little letters just for you encouraging to always smile.

Today you happily arrived at school, wearing you new ribbon you added light makeup and even sprayed on perfume. You don't care if girls start to push you down as a hobby you did this for Yoshida and for yourself to feel prettier.

Just as you arrived you saw it clear as day. Mina who was sitting on your table, Yoshida was happily chatting with her they were immersed in the conversation they were having. Denji who remained silent and asleep on his table, your heart shatters seeing Yoshida with the girl you hate your whole life every bit of fiber in you wants to end her and you can but you just don't want to be labelled as a killer.

" [Name]!" Your eyes met Yoshida's as he waves at you with that perfect smile, Mina did the same as if pushing you off the bridge never happened. Your body remembers the fear, the feeling and the time you were hospitalized for almost a week.

Mina quickly stood from her seat, jogging towards you as she gave you a tight hug.

"We finally meet again." She whispers to you, pulling away as she giggles. She hook her arm around yours as she tells Yoshida that you and her have been great friends but since you moved out she hasn't been able to contact you.

She kept telling so many stories about you and her, but you didn't got the nerve to stop her, she was spewing lies over lies you only stood there like a fool with lips trembling as you clenching you fist tighter each second with your nails digging deeper in your palms would leave crescent marks.

"We lost contact when she tried to end her life, we tried stopping her but [name] has always had tough life. I miss her though, she was quite handful back then." Mina crosses her legs as she bats her eyelashes, smiling every now and then.

"I see, I never knew about that. I find her incredibly amazing besides we've been seeing each other every now and then." You could hear Mina's irritation, gritting her teeth as she peers over her shoulder to look at you.

"She has no idea how lucky she is." Mina smiles at you, the day went on. Just after class you ignored Denji who doesn't even deserve the cold treatment as well but you were trying to avoid Yoshida, taking bigger steps just when you bumped into Mina and her gang, smirk painted her red lips.

You fell off landing on your butt, Mina reached out her hand causing you to flinch and back away.

But she was quick to grab a handful of your hair, as she pulls it upwards making you wince grabbing her wrist as you plead her to let go.

"No, I just want to know how the hell is this piece of trash still alive." Mina was a mad woman, but she has no idea no one does, you can't die and you won't be because that was the deal with the koi devil, live your life until you die of old age even if you get hit, beaten or bleed out the koi devil always gives you chances to be alive over and over again.

But you won't forget one thing she mentions.

"If you want power, just call out I'll help you finish those disgusting human, but just so you know I love haunting for men."

That day they dragged you by the hair to a empty room, Mina kept hitting you while others laugh, some of which helped Mina giving her a plank of wood or they threatened to burn you.

It was endless and it was painful, you just wish maybe taking the deal wasn't a bright idea. Maybe it was better if you just never live again but you would be so selfish to lave you family.

But this time instead of thinking about them you thought of Yoshida, his smile, his voice the way he looks at you with much care and sincerity it almost felt like heaven, almost because it would be whole if you finally got a kiss from him.

He makes you want to start life all over again, he was the reason why you want to be happy again. He gives comfort even in times he might have no idea you'd need it. Days were you spent inside his apartment, it was only new to you that he was the only one who treats you different even Denji.

It felt nice to be noticed.

Mina kicked your rib causing you to groan, blood coming out of your lips. They left you alone but Mina hasn't moved from her spot. She crouched down with her hand squeezing both of your cheeks making you look at her.

"Hey, Yoshida's mine." She left the silent became loud.

You couldn't move your body, you manage to roll to your side laying on your stomach but you kept coughing and moaning in pain.

Before you know it you started to lose your vision but you swore you heard someone calling you just then you passed out in the cold.

It has been another day you laid in the hospital, Denji came in with an old man with him who claims that he was Denji's guardian. Denji made chocolates and bought flowers even tons of balloons, it made you laugh but you winced since your ribs were broken.

Denji pleads to you to tell him who hurt you but you simply shook your head telling him your alright.

You would hear Yoshida's voice right outside the room asking your parents how you were, they find Yoshida as a friend of yours they were relieved to finally met one of your friends but your father wasn't fond of the idea that it had to be a man, but nonetheless your mother accepted it.

You'd pretend you were asleep when he comes in to your room, you'd hear him carefully carry a chair and sit beside the bed, that was the only time you felt him hold your hand.

It was warm and it made you feel something you can't quite explain.

Even though you were just pretending to fall asleep you wouldn't realize you were drifting off to you dreamland.

But you heard him say, "I'll never let you go, you know I can't your the only one I have left."

The day of examination came, your parents talk to the principal if you can take the exams in the hospital instead since you were still healing, they agreed but your homeroom teacher had to be present that time, it was only the first time she ever showed concern on her stoic face.

Counting down the days it was only three days away from Hanabi festival. You arrived home and your younger brother quickly jumps off to his feet giving you a hug.

Your mother scolded him to be careful, at dinner they were talking about moving out and finding a new place to stay, your father would find another job and you brother promise that when he get bigger and older he'd protect you. It was suppose to make you happy but you didn't feel anything.

It only made you feel worse, they sacrifice their lives to move out, another job, another new school, a so-called new life?

No matter how many money they earn, no matter how many times they say to move out to another home, you just felt like your life was meant to be this way and they had no idea that their daughter made a deal wit the devil.

You ran upstairs, locking you room door as you sobbed covering your face with your pillow. What felt like forever, you were staring off at the ceiling.

"Koi." You whispered.

Suddenly the room became darker and darker, it started to get cold as the candle lantern started flickering.

"You finally summoned me." A sultry voice echoed inside your room.

"I want you to fully come to me, I'll feed you my blood anytime you want." The devil snickered. She wore a rouge off shoulder kimono, her hair softly floating around her back as he left hand holds a long smoking pipe with gray smoke coming out of her crimson lips.

"I just need you to do what you want to do, I don't need your blood just find me a man to eat and stop being this pathetic. You know I saw something in you when I made that deal, I need my sacrifice!" You flinched at the last part, you fed her devils that made her disgusted with taste, she'd bathe in blood to make her young and glowing, her koi fishes swarmed around mid air as she looks stern right in front of you, her chest heaving as she lets out a disappointed noise.

Sitting down to your bed, she crosses her long arms.

"Kill them for my satisfaction even if it's a woman I'll bathe in her blood, but don't you think I can you ogling over this boy. Sadly I can't eat him." She pouted, you looked at her with your brows knitted close.

"How come?" That's when she smirk reaching to her eyes.

"Denji is a chainsaw devil, he smells delicious but I'm not after him but the boy you like also is a devil hunter. Just like you he has a deal with a devil." She stood up making her way towards you as she brush her pointy fingers on you face.

"It's simple, just come up to him that's all." She left and the room became bright, you felt your brother shaking you from your dreams.

You quickly opened you eyes and sat up, your brother was worried. You opened your arms as he gives in to give you a hug.

"I thought you were having a bad dream, so I had to wake you up." His words caused you to smiled, hugging him tight as he bid goodnight.

As he left only seconds later your phone ringed, it showed Yoshida's name on your call screen.

You picked it up, he asked you to look right outside the window. There he waved with both his arms as he looked happy and relieved to see you.

Maybe just this time again, take some risk then later on you can do what your devil wishes you to do.

It was around midnight, Yoshida drove you around you just wanted his moment to last forever, he took you to his place as he promise to cook late night dinner he even stole few alcohol from Kishibe, he was surprise he hasn't realize it just yet.

As you both moved the food to the coffee table, he turned on the movie as you slurp your noodles.

Everything was going quite well, that's until half of the second bottle was finished, the first bottle was now being used to spin, you exchanged questions as he listened to every detail.

He sat beside you on the floor, he was pretty close the distance was non existent.

Slowly by slowly, his hands move a strand of hair but his eyes stared to yours as he moves closer with his hand cupping you face.

His lips met yours, soft and hungry, and he took the kiss with the tenderness of a promise.

Your body moving on top of him as you straddle him, his hands resting on your waist as the kiss started to get more intense.

You started to unbutton your top while his hand snake down to your legs, his hands resting on your thighs made you feel warm. He moves to kiss your neck, light whimpers coming out of your lips only ignites Yoshida to keep going.

He pulls you down to his crotch, your underwear would be wet by now and he would feel it too. You moved as you humped on him, he groans throwing his head back.

You move your hands feeling his body underneath his white shirt, you kept moving and moving until you feel something coming down to you.

"Keep going doll." His lips was close to your ear, each grunt and pant of his breath was just making you even wetter.

Suddenly a knock came, causing you both to stop.

"Hey! I got snacks, I couldn't sleep neither can Nayuta." It was Denji, Yoshida groaned. You carefully went off him, you turned away but Yoshida was quick to move.

He had both his hands on your waist pulling you into a long kiss. Before he rest his forehead on yours.

"What are you doing to me?" He whispers, his eyes meeting yours only causing you to melt.

You fixed your clothes and hid the bottles away, you tied your hair into a bun. Yoshida quickly puts on a sweater since he still had a evident bulge on his pants.

He opens the door a grumpy looking Denji comes into view with a girl hiding behind him, "you took forever to open the damn door." Denji comes in as he notice you were here, his frown instantly turned into a smile as he became a puppy towards you.

You met Nayuta and they had to explain who she was but Denji just metions that she was his younger sister.

The day went the same however your mother allowed you to skip school, she started to speculate something might be stressing out out perhaps your classmates or the school, she couldn't stop thinking what it could be but you reassured her that you were alright.

You jumped happily, you waited for Yoshida to ask you if you wanted to go see the fireworks.

It was around one thirty, your mother came knocking to your room telling you there was a boy who was wanting to see you. You happily jogged down the stairs, passing by your brother whose face was smudge in chocolate.

You opened the door, suddenly your smile turn downward. It was Denji who was leaning by the cement wall, he noticed you as he idly waves.

"Schools boring without you." Denji says making you giggled. You tried to hide your disappointment that it wasn't Yoshida.

"I'm actually here to ask you if you want to see the fireworks with me, Yoshida went out to ask Mina." Your heart sank on the ground. Did people really see you as nothing. Not even a human, not close?

You swore you heard the koi devil's laughter, it made you slightly uneasy. But rejecting Denji wasn't your choice you just simply agreed.

You went back in as Denji bids goodbye, he promise to pick you up early. You head back in your father was going to be late as the three of you have dinner.

You told your mother you have a date tomorrow, she was quick to her feet finding the perfect Yukata for you to wear.

She laid everything out for you, you wish you just as excited as her but you tried to cheer yourself up, Denji was nice enough to ask you why can't you just be grateful?

That night, you had nightmares it was throwing you back into the past, everything started to haunt you down again it was even difficult to wake up you could hear Mina and the others. You woke up with tears in your eyes, you sat up pushing your legs close to your chest as you let a sob out.

The morning came as your grandparents bought Wagashi and Mochi since it was you and your youngers brother's favorite snacks, your mother made tea as your father hugs her mother but he got scolding since we haven't visited them in awhile.

Later on that day your grandmother and mother helped you put on your Yukata, your grandmother even gave you a hairpiece she keeps that has been passed down since Teisho era. It was covered in gold, emerald and tiny diamonds.

The family were amazed by how you look, you turned to the mirror you thought you started to look like the koi devil herself, maybe she was becoming fully with you. The long silky dark hair, pale skin and eyes like cat, instead of feeling fear you were feeling over confident and powerful.

They can't see the koi symbol on your left chest, you lightly rubbed it you felt pleasure like how it was nights ago when you made out with Yoshida, your eyes falling back to the mirror you saw the koi devil smirking at you.

You read her lips, suddenly the doorbell rings.

Your father answered it, he wasn't please to see a boy, and that boy was Denji.

He wore a navy colored yukata with black sandals. You bid your family goodbye's but your father had a stern look on Denji which made the poor boy uncomfortable.

He points to Denji, "No touching, no kissing, no cooties and I'm not hearing any objections." He received a slap on his chest from his wife.

"Ignore your old man, have fun you two!" She waves off as your brother just wave as well while eating mochi.

You two walked around stall to stall, trying games and buying food. Denji was enjoying himself but you were looking around the crowd trying to find Yoshida, Denji tugged your sleeve as he points to another game stall.

It was stall that has ropes above, you have to pull which ever rope to get a price. Denji was drooling over the ninetendo but he also wants the stuff toy and even the large sack of rice crackers.

In the end he got a bag of fluffly heart shaped marshmallows, he offered you some as you finished the whole bag of strawberry filled jelly marshmallows. Darkness was about to envelope the sky after the hues of orange, red and gold strikes of the sunset was gone in a matter of minutes. The host was announcing that the firework show will be starting in thirty minutes.

You were still unable to find Yoshida, you were starting to doubt he'd ever come.

You sat down waiting for Denji as he was buying yakisoba and hot green tea.

You removed your sandals, glancing back down to your phone he hasn't even called you today.

"I'm back." Denji hands you the warm yakisoba and a hot bottled green tea. You thanked him as you ate for the millionth time today.

Fifteen second before the firework begin your phone started to ring, you excused yourself.

You picked up the call it was Yoshida, you started to feel as if you were in the clouds.

"Yoshida, where are you?" You asked but he answered with a flat voice.

"Meet me at the parking lot, don't bring anyone with you." The phone call dropped, you look back to Denji he was busy eating his fifth cotton candy. You swear he eats so much you wonder if he ever gets full.

You walked towards the parking lot, there you saw Yoshida's back facing you there wasn't much cars parked around the area but it had the best view seeing the festival from up here the lights and people crowding around you had no idea it was much better to look from here.

Yoshida turns to you but he had blood stains on his clothes.

"I missed you, three days without you feels more than a torture." He opens his arms for you to take but you couldn't move to your spot.

"Y-Yoshida... You're clothes are-." You shakily pointed at him.

He looks down as if it was a normal thing, then you remembered what the koi devil said.

"That boy you like, is just like you made a deal with a devil."

You covered your lips, you started to shake like a leaf.

"This isn't mine, but you know what I want to hear from you instead?" He chuckles, pushing his hair back before he turns his gaze back on you.

"It's from Mina, that psycho freak thinks she owns the whole world in her hand, I saw everything even that time she killed you, yeah, I exposed her and her precious family now their on the brink of death. I like it, even when she begged me to save her, I killed the same way she tried to kill, I wanted to torture her more but I can't let my baby wait for me much longer no?" He started to move closer but you didn't backed away.

"Next was her friends." He pulls out a knife from his pocket, swirling it with his index finger.

"I. haunt. each. and. every. one. of. her sluts." He giggled.

"You didn't know but she slept with all of her friends, she's the nasty little whore here not you, you are my precious angel what you do to me makes me crave you more and more everyday it just gets stronger. Next was our homeroom teacher, yeah, you had no idea but she had slept with Mina's father little bitch thinks she can change her life by becoming the new wife guess what per request she must not show concern that day she was there in the hospital when you had your exam I was the one who threatened her after that she begged like never before." He wipes off the blood from the knife with his sleeve.

"I killed her, nice and clean then dumped her body beside Mina's precious father, he dead too because he dares hurt my baby that's unforgiveable to me."

Just the the first firework explodes in the air, the red color shone you see it clearer that he was covered from head to toe and he look like a maniac.

"Lastly was Himari, I fed her to my devil. I knew you have one too it makes me happy that this way we won't be too strangers with one another. I know that koi symbol you have." He points with his index finger as you backed away.

Moving and moving as he only comes closer and you can't help it, you can't move it almost feels like something holding you down.

As a large stone wall met your back Yoshida was quick to block your side trying to escape him.

"I'll always keep my promise, you're mine after all." He uses the knife to cute your front he tugs down on your left sleeve to reveal the symbol.

"We're powerful that they'll ever know."

Mihoyo you coward. Make them get along again.

DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST [CHAPTER LIST]

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

FIRST FANFIC SO EXPECT THE LOW QUALITY WRITING.

It’s always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords — utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, alternate universe - canon divergence, alternate universe - college/university, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, trauma, suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced sexual harassment, implied/referenced abuse, attempted murder, overdosing

WORDS: 170k

PUBLISHED: July 19, 2021 ▪︎ COMPLETED: August 8, 2022

Keep reading

Mercy ✤ Xiao

A/N: After months, finally, another platonic angst lands. Are you dearies prepared? :")) Onwards!

✤ Mentions of death, violence, and blood

"Text in this format is a dialogue in flashback."

Words: 11k

Memories.

Oh, the significance they hold.

They say a moment should always be treasured—for that transient second can only be relived once… until it is but a part of the past.

To the unaging, these moments are treasures. Locked away and kept safe in a chamber full of many a different fortune.

To the ‘immortals’, these are but scenes that constitutes only a small percentage of their eternity. They are bound to be remembered, never to be forgotten.

There is beauty in remembering, though.

After all, aren’t happy times meant to be reminisced over in the first place?

Ah… but there also exists, in the parallelism of yin and yang; dark and light, good and evil.

Sanctuary and prison.

Comfort and torment.

Joy and misery.

“Brother,” you call him. Gentle, thoughtful.

Throughout the thousands of years, you have grown to be shrewdly cognizant of these mirrors—these parallels. The warm color of golden irises belies the coldness they hold within as he turns, begrudged.

Unwilling. Almost disdainful.

Unbefitting for someone bound with you by blood.

Ah, these parallels.

“What do you want?” he answers you. Guarded and apathetic.

It looks like you won’t be able to share a meal with him again. You’ll have to try again… later.

How can you not be aware of them?

You smile bitterly, “… Nothing.”

His scowl deepens, “Then leave me be.”

When you both exist as each other’s opposites?

It has been like this ever since the day you have opened your eyes to meet those of his; a pretty gold, warm yet guarded. You don’t share any similar features with him, only the same ichor that runs within.

You can’t say that you’re both particularly close to start with, because you’re not. There is always some sort of rift that divides the plane you’re both standing on, frozen and unmoving.

Still, in spite of the distance between you, animosity never exists.

You can never hate your own kin and based on the junctures when he’s gruffly ascertaining your physique after a nasty fight, he doesn’t hate you, either [right?]

That’s a good thing, no?

From the moment you learned how to fly and balance yourself in the air, he’s been more attentive, almost proud—but you’re not sure. All you can remember is the time he looked so happy.

But that had been millenniums ago and he never really solidified whether he was elated over your self-taught flight or not.

For Xiao never speaks out on his feelings, so you do the same, thinking that it’d only be bothersome and you’d hate to subject trivial things unto him. Not when he’s done so much for you.

“Why are you still here?” the entrance of his voice yanks you from your headspace and you flinch, seeing him glower at you. “And why have you transformed and left your cage?”

He sounds particularly brusque, on the fine line of snapping with aggro. You cannot avoid the second flinch, aware that he doesn’t take kindly when rules meant to keep you safe are broken.

All endeavors to retrieve the courage you’ve brought are successful and you sigh. “I just… well, you’ve been out here for so long.”

I miss you.

Is what you’re trying to say—but you don’t, because he doesn’t like things like that.

All platonic sorts of advances such as mere hugs and touches are avoided and dismissed as a nuisance. He’s always been indifferent to those, but after the War… he’s just become completely against it.

Besides, the two of you aren’t that close to begin with, but after the cataclysm and almost being put in a state of incapacitation, his presence grew more.

How can you not feel as though he’s home, itself?

Xiao’s stare becomes sterner, as though he can’t believe the words spilling from your lips. “Naturally, this is my duty; to protect and remain vigilant. Respites contradict that.”

You swallow thickly, a little peeved that he’s still spouting things about the contract and his duty to Liyue as if the rise of the Liyue Qixing didn’t nullify his contract binding him to Morax.

“Rex Lapis is gone,” you do not stop even when his gaze becomes dangerous, “He has terminated the contracts that bound the Adepti to protect Liyue for its citizens have grown stronger.”

He finally turns your way, and you would’ve been elated that you have gotten his whole attention if not for the ugly cause of it. “I do this out of my own volition.”

“And you don’t think to just… rest? For a while? Liyue can last a day without your watchful eye.” When he directs his sight elsewhere without an answer, you grumble, letting disbelief and annoyance cloud your rationality.

“Everything doesn’t have to be Liyue or that stupid contract—”

It happens in a blink of an eye.

“Watch your tongue.” There’s a huge gust of wind that blows your way with a snappy turn of his head towards your direction and the glow of his eyes have gotten menacing.

“Until this day, I continue to do my duty as reverence to the Archon who saved us. Have you forgotten?”

To this, you fall silent, nibbling on your lips, agitated.

For the record, you haven’t forgotten. How could you?

“He’s the same Archon who showed you mercy and you think to belittle his only remuneration for it?” Xiao all but hisses through gritted teeth, appearing beyond pressed at the implication of the contract being nothing but a nugatory matter worth turning over.

You observe the way his fingers twitch, restrained from clenching into fists in an obvious way to quell his growing anger. That’s right, he’s always so miffed whenever someone talks about the Archon.

An understandable thing, really—but can’t he see where you’re coming from?

You only wanted his time, too.

So even if shame prickles your chest—because the mercy Morax has shown you is not a simple thing and you should be grateful, which you are—you stand your ground.

“I served him, too.” You manage to say through the exacerbating cloud of exhaustion within. “In case you’ve forgotten, brother, I am an Adeptus. I fought for him, too!”

You do not remember much of the fighting, but you do know that you fought for Morax’s side eventually.

Breath starting to hitch and falter, you pause, your shaky hand clinging onto the wooden railings of the balcony to keep yourself upright.

The telling signs of deterioration and death are enough to prompt you to transform into your avian form and rest in the gilded cage, but you don’t.

Not yet.

You exhale, “Was that not enough?”

If your brother has gotten alarmed of your state, then you don’t know—your eyesight is already blurring.

“It never was.” Is his response, cold.

You feel your heart dropping—but deep down, you know that it’s true.

It’s far from being enough.

“After obtaining power that you used to smite the helpless and the dreamless, did you think your measly centuries-long service was enough after he saved you?”

Trapped in the usual harrowing haze brought by the repercussions of that mentioned power, you can feel it starting to pick away at your mind again.

It drapes you over in its shadow of death, and you feel yourself losing, but-

“I—”

“Stop being selfish, [Name].” just seeing him walk away—marking the end of another imbroglio—reawakens the fire in your chest. Providing sufficient fortitude for you to exclaim in retaliation.

“I did it for the both of us!” he pauses in place.

Your head splits at the sudden rise of your volume, unused to the chaos like you were centuries past. It almost sends you fainting, but despite your wobbling legs, you stay standing.

His attention once more grasped in the transience of a second, you say again, this time with a voice as feeble as a sickly child.

“… I did it for you, brother.”

Though it ended up being useless.

He doesn’t turn around, even when you are at your most vulnerable; showing a side you haven’t shown to anyone, not even him, until now.

You believe you’ve gotten to him, you believe it has done an impact—that he’ll stay for once.

“I didn’t ask for you to do it.”

But of course, he won’t.

His frigid response, dipped with potent insouciance, almost sends you to your knees in defeat and loss. How can he sound so uncaring? How can he… not care?

Do you really mean so little? Compared to his duties? That he can’t even spare a day?

Xiao begins to vanish in black and turquoise wisps, signs of his teleportation skill at use, and you all but crumble at the sight.

Even with the hazardous threat of total decay, you step forward, wanting to reach out to him but you don’t let go of the railings.

If you do, you will fall. And you have a feeling that he won’t catch you if he did.

“I’ll join you.” Your weak insistence makes him scoff.

“If this is your way of redeeming yourself, then it’s ridiculous.”

His words stab through you like the repercussions of the power you greedily sought for a long time ago. Only, his hurts more—for his cuts through the fiber of your very existence and burns the blood you share with him.

Without looking back at you, he declares.

“You’re now nothing more but a carapace of the warrior you’ve been. You’ve gotten weak, you’re not meant for anything in the battlefield.”

The battlefield; the only place you could have shown your worth and aid. The only place where you can help. But not now, not ever.

Unable to find both the strength and voice to muster a reply, you remain wordless, too busy trying to regain your breathing. Cold sweat runs down the expanse of your temple, dripping down your chin and onto the floorboards that are starting to swarm with black and cyan.

“Leave.” comes his command. “You’re just being absurd, straining yourself this way.”

The balcony gets colder, telling of the lack of his presence. His presence that, albeit perceived as cold, has a vestige of warmth. A trace of who he had been, millenniums ago.

At his disappearance, you allow yourself to succumb to the weakness, dropping to your knees and leaving the form of a human.

It is beyond exhausting to stay in that physique, a vessel often used to fight.

You don’t know what compelled you to appear to him in it—maybe it’s because it’s how you’re usually around him back then? Back when you were untarnished by the corruption of a power so malefic? You don’t know.

The glow of [c] dies down and the world has gotten bigger, as expected given your small avian shape. Decay’s prognosis is thwarted and slow, as it’s always been whenever you take up on your original form.

Your human vessel speeds it up, hence its limited usage.

Aside from approaching your brother today, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been human.

You mean humane, whispers the demon in your head.

A phantasmagoric devil, a remnant of the god you foolishly served. Thinking about her just makes your insides churn.

Dispelling the delusory fiend, you take flight, heading towards the lower and vaster balcony, right at the level where the front desk and Verr is.

Facing the view of Liyue, near the threshold to the interior, hanging by the beams is a cage embellished in gold.

Its elaborate decoration often attracts people, awed at the décor and the little [c] bird inside. You do not mind them, for you are asleep most of the time. They marvel over the intricacy of the aureate cadre, unaware of the salubrious and restorative enchantments set upon the container itself.

Entering the cage with ease, you drop onto soft [c] padding blanketed with mounds of fabric that mimics a bed. Immediately, inside the enclosure, the exhaustion and threat of staying outside is ceased—and serenity fills your whole being.

It’s peaceful, you denote as you’re slowly being brought to a slumber. However, even with the comfort brought by the golden jail, your heart thrums with unease.

Your mind paints the image of your dear brother.

There is a reason why you stay locked up in it, despite it being an actual representation of both a prison and a sanctuary.

You fall asleep with a tear slipping from your closed eye.

It delays the indemnifying declension that was born out of a past desire.

“Lower your stance a little more, feet square on the ground. They direct your movements.”

Kicking his polearm into his grip, he mimics your stance and, with a swift revolve on the terrain, his feet skid with finesse. It sets the foundation of his next course of action, dragging his body to twist with spruce and power at the same time.

You watch it, astounded.

Your awe comes out in a prolonged ‘oh’, succeeded by silent yet rapid claps.

Alatus huffs at it and he looks more uncomfortable than thankful, but the tips of his ears are flushed cerise. He would’ve been teased a ton if you’re not aware of the fact that he dislikes it so much.

Add to that the reason that you aren’t that close to be actually teasing him…

Outside the intrinsic mutualism that acknowledges the other as kin, and outside the days where you both spend it training, your interests with him do not align. So, it’s often a little awkward, in the sense that it feels like you’re in an estranged bond.

Despite it, however, you want to be close to him. Your family.

Your attention is retrieved when you see your polearm being flung your way and you gasp, hurrying to catch it in your arms and—success! Oh, you don’t know what you’d do if you failed to catch your own weapon… the embarrassment.

Alatus nods at you with folded arms, situating himself above a rock a few paces away from his previous place.

“Go. Do it until you perfect it.”

“Eh?”

He means he’ll watch you train? Oh dear, well, all the more to give this your best shot!

Moving your extremities to the proper position you’ve been displayed with a moment ago, you breathe in deeply and clutch the polearm before swinging with a cry.

“Hah!”

You’ve been alive for a millennium, and for ages, you can only recall how you’ve been at your brother’s side and vice versa. The snippets of your childhood are forgotten in the mist within, only being able to reminisce about your first day of flight.

A flight that you shared with him. And that’s where your memory stops.

Throughout the years, you’re never at one place, either. Maybe it’s because of your avian nature—ironic, since you both venture the lands in human forms—but traveling the world comes as an innate purpose.

You enjoy the freedom, and you know your brother does, as well.

Just the simple thought of taking to the skies without anything to lag you by is cathartic, much more if you actually do spread your wings to embrace all that the wind has to offer.

And the skies, always tinctured a marvelous azure, is your home.

You can stare at it from below forever and observe the rolling clouds without ever getting bored. For when the firmament is stroked with the oranges of a sunset and the navy of a night, there is always a new story to tell.

A new chapter to begin with—a new day to look forward to.

Although you don’t fly that much anymore—choosing to walk the earth with your kin—you still look forward to the day you’ll scour it once more. And maybe you can even ask your brother to join you, preferably when you get the courage and stop being so awkward.

Fate has listened to you, it seems.

Because the day do arrive; when you fly in the sky with him. Only, you hoped the reason could’ve been different.

For when you flew, the sky was not a tranquil blue, but a portentous red.

“What was that?”

It’s the first thing you ask when he enters through the curtain of leaves isolating the interior of the cave—your temporary lodgings—from the outside world.

He doesn’t look injured but does appear roughened up like he’s gotten the privilege of being a safe witness to a slaughter.

You kind of don’t even want him to answer, your breath held in as you observe the way he tenses and relaxes, unsure what to do.

He looks uncertain himself—as if he can’t believe what he’s seen or heard. What he says next makes your skin turn pallid.

“War.” His answer is strained, “There’s a war.”

A war—a war.

So suddenly? When Teyvat was at peace all this time?

“We need to leave.” Alatus begins to pace around the cave, mumbling things to himself that you can’t catch. Seeing him this frantic only fuels your own dread.

You are just about to propose leaving that instant when he looks at you with a pointed stare. “I’ll search for routes that aren’t overtaken by battles and warriors. Pack whatever rations we have left.”

“What? That takes no more than a minute! Let me join you after—”

“No.” His tone gets stern, and if it isn’t for the plea in his eyes, you would’ve thought him callous. “Stay here, do you understand me?”

Torn, you nibble on your lip, aggravated at the dilemma.

All you know is that sending him off alone is a risk, even when maybe the war hasn’t reached this place yet. You want to argue with him further, but you also know that it will only use up time that could be spent ascertaining a route out of here.

Dropping your head in your hands, you expel a resigned sigh. “Please be quick.”

He doesn’t say anything, only moving past the drapes of leaves to start what he plans to do.

The moment he’s gone, you get to work, doing as you’re told and gathering whatever little rations you’ve acquired on your journey here. And as expected, it doesn’t take any longer than a minute or two.

By the time two tiny bags are set and prepared to be taken, you are still alone in the cave along with the light through the curtain that’s gradually beginning to decline.

It is sundown.

Soon, night will fall—the time where the dark begins to prey, and consequently, the witching hour when all who is attuned to their powers are stronger.

“Brother!”

Alatus stumbles into the cave, panting with his eyes seemingly unable to focus. His polearm is at the ready, clasped in a gloved hand that tremors every now and then.

He holds out a hand to stop you from touching him.

“Don’t,” he breathes once then lets his weapon vanish into gold dust. “I can take care of myself.”

Oh you don’t doubt that at all, but he’s looking as if he’s a painting of a red sea.

“You’re bleeding!”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Your fusses are dismissed with a shake of his head. “This isn’t my blood.”

That halts you in place, the hand that is about to touch his shoulder pausing in midair. Then, tentatively, you rise your gaze, meeting a golden stare that still looks out of it. You curse, withdrawing your hand and apologizing.

He must still feel shaken up, you shouldn’t intrude his space.

“It’s fine,” Alatus says, voice low yet grim. “Let’s go, now.”

Where, exactly? You wanted to ask as he exits through the drape of leaves once more.

And can we even outrun a war?

You don’t know—you can’t say for sure.

There’s no telling whether there’s even a sanctuary to go to, but you kept your mouth shut, not risking the chance to upset your brother further.

He doesn’t need a burden, not when he’s already doing so much to look after the two of you.

The outside world lacks its usual serenity.

The greens have gotten dull, receptive to the damage being done on the terra. You’ve no doubt that someplace else, the pretty viridescent can no longer be distinguished underneath all the red.

Because of a war.

War. Just even thinking of it makes your skin crawl. You’re afraid.

War results to loss, there’s almost never a winning side—aren’t all victories pyrrhic? You don’t want to engage in one to find out.

The cold wind makes you shiver, fingers suddenly unable to remain still at the nipping fear in your heart. You do not feel good, you don’t feel good at all—it’s as if you are subconsciously aware of an omen.

You hope that whatever it may be, it won’t come your way.

But fate seems to be less merciful. Perhaps it’s because it deems your situation unfair; you are safely avoiding battle, whilst the others are falling left and right.

It dawns like the burning sun, fate’s punishment.

In your travels, eluding the imminence of war, creatures born of twilight have risen from the soil. Their woes and regrets that have morphed into mordant vice are bemoaned, reverbing in the night.

They are creatures you’ve both have no experience in fighting.

And they’re everywhere.

The both of you have successfully fought your way into escaping, but you are far from being unscathed. The gash on your side is huge, calling the need for rest—to hide.

Although a hiding spot has been found, that does not mean that you are entirely in the green light. For some reason, the creatures are prowling everywhere, on the chase for something—or someone—and will not rest upon retrieving it.

It is the sound of their growls that pushes your brother to leave again, much to your protests.

“You’re injured, too.” you insist but he does not budge, eyeing your nasty injury that doesn’t seem to heal no matter the number of days that have passed.

“If I don’t fight, they will find us,” states Alatus, the tone of his voice implying no room for persuasion nor arguments.

You almost claw your hair out as you rise to stand—only to be forcefully laid down again.

You all but raise your voice at it.

“You’re far injured than I am!” your voice stuns him to silence as you point at his body, littered with wounds of various sizes. “I know how to fight, let me go, instead.”

If only you wholeheartedly mean it—because you don’t. You’re afraid.

War—war scares you, and those creatures, they aren’t normal, they reek of evil. You do not want to suffer a fate under their claws, but you can’t just send your brother out there, either.

Alatus looks at himself, assessing the gravity of his injuries—then huffs, in amusement? You can’t tell.

“This is nothing to me.”

He says this, yet you can hear him grunting in the night after he returned bearing double the number of wounds on his figure, hissing from the obvious pain he thought he’d been discreet at hiding.

Is he forgetting who you are?

You may not be that close with him like how normal siblings are meant to be, but you are bound by blood.

You can feel yourself growing faint at the sight of him being so weak, putting himself responsible for the both of you. As if you couldn’t fight.  

No matter how much you tell him to switch, he always seems to have an extra reserve of power to shut you down and depart before you could. He leaves with the rise of each sun and returns when the moon is at its peak, when the shadows overcome the light and are present to mask his presence.

He’s hurting and you’re resonating with his pain. It hurts to see him leak blood.

Is the fighting that bad for him to come home half-dead every single night?

You must help him, you need to help him, what kind of sibling would you be if you don’t? You know how to fight and you’ll be putting that to good use.

But things are easier said than done.

Sparring is different from war, where blood is spilled without a second thought and no such thing as ‘time out’ exists.

Perhaps he’s aware that you’re actually terrified—because even if you can fight, you’re afraid, and it’s that fear that becomes your weakness. Renders you useless.

Maybe he knows that hence why even though he’s grunting in the night, he leaves to keep you safe.

You’re ashamed, you’re guilty, and you’re fearful-

“Brother…”

But nothing scared you the most when one night, Alatus comes inside the alcove barely conscious, looking like an exact picture of the time he came bearing news of war.

The only difference? He’s covered in his own blood.

Getting to work fast, you seize the remaining bandages—that he insisted you use for yourself—and do your best to clean his lacerations.

At some point, you have to sneak out and stealthily gather some water from the nearby pond whilst evading the eyes of those creatures.

They are endless.

Alatus is running a terrible fever that refused to go down even though the days have come and go, shivering even when you’ve thrown bundles of fabric that you’ve ransacked from empty camps.

His wounds are yet to heal, just like yours, the fair skin lost in an ugly shade of violet and yellow.

They aren’t normal at all, instead acting like hexes.

They are painful, but you’re sure as hell that your pain isn’t tantamount to the one your brother feels.

When he doesn’t wake up on the third month, you have learned to cry, shaking in place, away from the war, hidden in a cave where demise will eventually prowl at.

You are mad for a handful of reasons, but above all, you are so, so afraid.

There comes the first stroke of realization; you and Alatus, so, so different from one another.

Perhaps, if you have been as courageous as he, as vigilant and fortified—things could’ve been different. But no, you didn’t insist more, didn’t try to persuade him otherwise.

Look where that has led the two of you.

You can’t believe that it has to take him being in a vegetative state for you to be able to crawl out of that stupid cave and fight for him as he did for you.

You do not know why you were so struck with cowardice—is it because of death? Or the fear of letting him down?

Maybe because he’d think less of you as his kin if you fail, so you never tried?

You wish you had an answer, but it doesn’t arrive.

Even if you pierce your polearm in the chests of those twilight-borne creatures and watch them disperse into ash, you are not delighted with an answer to your fear.

Nor an answer to the remedy that will cure you and him of your supernaturalesque wounds.

Will you both really perish this way? Heavens, you pray not—there’s much to do.

You search for a cure, every day and every night, returning only to your brother’s side when you are too fatigued. You have managed to stay alive and awake, miraculously not falling prey to the enticing slumber that took your kin in its hold.

You hope for a remedy, hope for the day it’ll be discovered—but with each rising moon, your hope dwindles. Everything seems to be set in stone.

Death is the only thing that awaits the two of you at the end of the road.

“You want to help your brother, don’t you?”

Until she came along; your savior.

“What of it? It’s not like you can give me what I wish for.”

She has come to greet you in the middle of the battlefield when another fight has ended and you remain standing. A pyrrhic victory, for in the finale, demise will still come to greet you.

“Let us join forces, my dear. I will give you all that you need.”

She has your attention.

“It’s impossible.” You whisper, for you desire for plenty; for enough courage because until now you are afraid. For enough power so that you can protect your brother, too. “What are you to be able to do that?”

It is too good to be true—and you should’ve been wary, but she emanates such a sincere aura that wants to help.

And how can you deny such a tempting offer, still? How can you overlook the prospect of joining hands with an almighty—

“A god.”

With her—everything can be possible.

The relief you felt when she held your hand and your wounds vanished in an instant—she can cure Alatus, too…!—and the comfort of having a kind god… maybe…

“… Alright.”

“Very well.”

She smiles, raising her hand—so, so cold—to brush against your cheek, wisps of the power you desire being welcomed by your skin, seeping into your body and into your bloodstream.

Your eyes open to the feel of something brushing against your feathers, careful as though they’ll hurt you.

It’s still in the dead of night, but you know that sensation anywhere—that presence, the gentle hold you’ve gotten used to after having to live in a gilded cage.

Brother?

The small of your [c]s peer up, meeting a golden gaze. Xiao stops caressing your little form, the pad of his thumb that has brushed away a cold tear withdrawing.

You chirp, tiny beak reaching to peck his fingers—in an attempt to bring him back—that moves to leave the birdcage. Why does he retreat every single time?

As if pitying your endeavors, the Yaksha lets his hand stay for a bit longer, allowing you to snuggle in his cupped palm. His touch is always so comforting.

It is one that he barely does, so relish the few seconds of that blessing.

To your dismay, those seconds feel shorter than usual, because he’s drawing his hand back before you can even squeak and vanishing without so much as a goodbye. Your heart drops again.

But you should be used to this.

You should be thankful that he even holds your tiny form whenever he wishes to. But you want him nearby, you want to close the rift that separates you from him. You want to be closer.

He is your only family—and after that bit in the Chasm…. Oh, you don’t even want to think about it.

Pushing the door to the cage open, you stretch your wings out then flew, traveling a short yet exhausting distance to the upper balcony. Xiao already stands there, paying no mind to your arrival as though he has anticipated this.

“What do you want?” he asks as soon as the [c] light has faded and your human form has appeared once more.

His abrasiveness does not deter you—it is the sight of his flesh wounds that do the trick, open and leaking with adeptal blood.

You swallow at the sight of it, being reminded of the state he had been in the early years of the Archon War.

You think that he won’t entertain you if you came up to him with your usual words, so you decide to stray with a tiny white lie.

“Dandelions…” you answer directly, though a little shy. “And cecilias…”

It isn’t a complete lie, per se, for you do miss those exotic flowers.

Though they hail from the foreign nation of Mondstadt, you used to fly to the cliffs and greens of the city of wind to nestle in the breezy floras.

But as you are right now, you are incapable of leaving for too long.

The Yaksha eyes you at the side, nose crinkling in bewilderment. He probably didn’t expect that answer and instead believes it to be a bluff. He isn’t completely wrong, either.

His prolonged silence makes you sigh.

“Stop fighting.” You finally convey the words dying to roll off your tongue, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

I don’t want you to continue suffering more than this.

He answers you immediately with a scoff. “Impossible.”

Of course it is.

“I just want you nearby.” You try a different approach, though you mean the reason all the same. Your voice has gotten softer, a little more shy than usual. “Is that so much to ask for?”

Compared to before, this time, his answer is not instantaneous.

You’re not certain if he’s not speaking because he doesn’t have a response, or because he simply doesn’t want to. He keeps his gaze straight forward, into the nights of Liyue where everything is at peace.

All but you two.

When at long last, he’s finally able to respond, it is not towards your later statement.

“Stop asking for ridiculous things, my war is eternal. There is nothing you can do about it.”

The prick on your chest begins far too sooner than you expected. You still mustn’t have recovered to an acceptable extent.

The growing pain tempts you to revert back, but you don’t, because then, you wouldn’t be able to speak.

“Why can’t you let me help you?” you pry, daring a step forward.

Closer, closer to the rift that divides you both.

“Help?” Xiao’s voice is strangely wistful, but then he shakes his head. “… That’s absurd.”

You do not miss the slight crack in his visage that told you of his vulnerability—the same one you found when he collapsed in your arms after returning bloody and beaten in the War.

How can you turn a blind eye to it?

How can you turn a blind eye to him?

With assurance, you reach your hand out, just like he did to you a while ago. You want to hold him, you want to comfort him—even if he’s at an unending war, you will carry it with him. It’s only natural.

You are siblings.

“Don’t,” Xiao snarls, voice dripping with a threat. “Don’t touch me.”

The pain in your chest squeezes.

“Brother—" you plea, but-

“What we’ve become is inevitable.” The way he said it so monotonously freezes you in shock.

There is not an ounce of guilt in his tone as he highlights the pathetic outcome of your relationship with him after the war.

A war that has strained a bond that was awkward to bloom—where now, there is a division that separates the two of you.

“It cannot be annulled.”

A rift that is impossible to cross over.

You feel your breath leaving you.

“So,” you rub at your eyes, looking away in fear that he’ll catch the glossing of your eyes and deem you weaker than you already are. “You aren’t willing to try to- to fix… this?”

What’s become of us?

Xiao looks at you for the second time that night—and the shadow over his visage makes it difficult to see the expression he wears. But his answer is sufficient enough.

“It is useless to fix what is already broken.”

And just like that—the hope you’ve been attempting to keep alive in your heart shatters, but the gravity of such an impact is caught in a delay.

You are unable to feel it at first, for there is an evident stutter in the process of understanding how far you are from your brother.

It is only when Xiao turns to disappear were you able to feel the extent of his words—the knife that stabs through in order to claw out your heart. It hurts.

You fall to the floor, trembling from exhaustion—literally and emotionally.

The thrum in your chest sends a lump to rise at your throat, firm and telling of the damage your heart has received.

It hurts to think that you are the only one who wants to try and fix the space dividing you from him. It hurts to think that you are the only one who wants to help the other heal.

Gasping for air, you feel the floor with your shaking hands, willing yourself to transform back into the meek and fragile form you’ve always been.

All traces of courage having dispersed the instance you were shot down.

It hurts.

.

.

The following day, you are unable to see Xiao anywhere.

Perhaps he is concealing himself away, or maybe he truly is occupied conquering and purging the land of the obstinacy known as bygone gods.

You do not know—it isn’t like he tells you anything.

Waking up in the cage you call your home, the assumption from last night that you will open your eyes feeling drained and helpless is ostensibly false.

Because although the feeling of being deprived of vitality is true, you do not feel as helpless as you thought you’d be.

Maybe other than blood, stubbornness is what you share with him.

Hence why you decided to take a venture past Wangshu and head into the heart of the harbor, seeking the man you know holds olden wisdom and judgement in all his glory.

It isn’t hard to meet him, given it isn’t a busy day.

It took you great courage to speak up and hold your ground against your brother, but it takes an even bolder heart to meet the eyes of the ex-Archon who at one point held your fate in his hands.

But he appears to have mellowed now—gotten even wiser if that’s possible.

He is surprised to see you, understandably so, but made no such things to send you off, which led to tea being shared in the morning as he listened to your entreaties in silence.

“I see, so you are worried over your brother, still.” He does not sound at all flabbergasted that this is why he’s approached, humming.

You wait for more of his words, biting back the urge to tell him all that he knows that instant. And as if the deity has been attuned to your wishes, he indulges you, setting the teacup down with a clink that sounds within the secluded room in the funeral parlor.

It’s morbidly expedient; to talk in such a place when the crux of the conversation involves history and deaths.

“Do you know why he considers his duty eternal?” Zhongli lifts his stare to meet yours, the action making you swallow and answer a short while after.

“Because of a contract?”

You are aware that he isn’t trying to be intimidating with his stare—it is just that you have grown accustomed to looking into those ambers that once exuded undisputed command.

Although who sits before you now is not the Geo Archon, but someone trying to blend in with the mortals, you cannot see him for the human he tries to be.

“Partially.” He admits though it contradicts the subtle shake of his head. “But there is another reason.”

Another…? Unaware of the subconscious tightening of your fists, you break off the eye contact, moving your sight to the peaceful surface of the hot tea in the cup within your hands.

To be submerged in it will feel relieving—at least then, underwater, everything that you hear will be obscured. A semblance of a sanctuary, to hide from the truth and the answer you fear yet seek all the same.

As though cognizant of your hesitance, the man on the other end of the table keeps quiet, yet still fixates his stare on your person. Waiting to deliver what you came to him for.

And when [c]s strikes against gold, it is set in stone. He answers.

“Sacrifice.”

It shouldn’t be surprising, really; sacrifice, though ruinous and lamentable at best, isn’t considered uncommon in Teyvat.

Sacrifices exist and happen every single day; from the loss of time in order to do something, to the loss of chances and opportunities that could’ve opened a different path, and plenty more.

But for an immortal—sacrifice is far too grave of a word to associate with.

“[Name],” you stiffen at his call, “Do you ever not wonder why he agreed to be a Yaksha? Why most of your memories of the War is entrapped in a fog that refuses to disperse?”

Sacrifice is something that holds meaning and influence over one’s life.

Floundered, you pick away at the handle of the cup. “Because you asked him to?”

You don’t answer his later question, aware that your perfunctory response is sufficient enough to answer both.

He nods. “Yes, but even I had a reason for asking him.”

A reason, so he means that there’s something else other than the superficial invite to be an elite warrior. Another meaning under the agreement to be a Yaksha.

Zhongli moves, carrying his cup with him as he takes a seat on the chair next to yours. He then extends his hand for you to take wordlessly and you clench your fists once more, skeptical.

There is a voice in your head advising you not to do it, but you must if you ever want to find out what that reason is.

And when you take his hand, there’s a painful tingle erupting from the tips of your fingers, coursing through your blood, rushing into your mind and opening memories you didn’t know you had until now.

The corrosive decay from the cursed blessing is momentarily abated, bringing about a reel of a familiar yet forgotten tragedy.

That lady on the battlefield—she who is adorned with smiles and wears red as her primary choice of color, is your savior. At least, on the face of it.

When you’ve come to allow her to bless you—and bless you she did—you are instantly healed of your supernatural wounds and there’s no doubt that your brother was, too, because that was what’s agreed on.

You felt the gratifying enchantment of the power you sought, running within your bloodstream and filling you to the brim with a taste of affluent omnipotence.

With that power, you returned to a frantic warrior who’s up on his feet, cured of his afflictions. 

With that power, you have gotten stronger—stronger than you could possibly ever imagine and your fear of the war has dwindled until it is nulled.

With that power, you are able to satiate the desire to keep Alatus safe, as he has done with you.

But that power… you realize, as you stare once more at the familiar sight of fatal wounds on your unconscious kin one night, is still not enough.

So, you cast about for the lady in red once more, and there she is awaiting, again, in the middle of the battlefield. Waiting for you with a knowing smile.

“This power is insufficient.”

“Then foster it.”

“How?”

Dreams. Ambitions, hopes, and wishes.

All those that are created by the heart’s desire, all those that human beings thrive upon to look forward to another day. They are the requisites—they are the ensilages to the development of your blessing.

So, seek them out.

And sought you did.  

When the advent of nightfall has come and all are asleep, you prey upon humans, feeding on their dreams and hopes. Using them to enhance the gift you’ve been given.

It’s fine, right?

After all, you’re doing it to protect your brother. Those humans will understand, it isn’t like they can’t understand the meaning of necessities.

“Don’t you want more?” she had smiled.

You do.

“Then go, my dear.”

So, you went.

Those dreams, so positive and hopeful, they taste delightful. Unbelievably scrumptious, addicting and leaving you craving.

It’s fine, right?

With each delectable dream, you grow powerful. As what’s promised.

Alatus—dear brother—is barely even scathed nowadays. A monster will be cut down before they can even think of harming him. Oh, how overjoyed you are.

Oh, how powerful.

Oh, how fearless—how valiant you’ve become.

This is it, the crescendo of your being.

This is what you’ve been looking for; the missing piece to combat the petty fear of war. Power. It is all that you needed.

It is all that you ever desired. Nothing more, nothing less.

But there lies a fault in the path you’ve chosen.

A fault you realized far too late, when the last vestiges of your moral alignment have come to convey the epiphany that you are being strung along to the whims of the smiling lady.

When you have confronted her about it, barely rational, instead high, drunk, and delirious on the sweet, sweet blessing [curse], you are far too gone.

That power has become strings, threads to puppeteer you the way she wishes to.

You dislike it—but the power… did you really dislike the power?

Salvation is nowhere in sight.

At least, not in the form of –

“Let her go.”

The one you tried so hard to protect.

You can hear his voice by the skin of your teeth, an almost muted decibel. What strikes like drums against your ears, however, is the sardonic simper.

“You’re in no position to make demands, dear.” she hummed, “But I have been waiting for you. Why don’t you say hi to your sister, doesn’t the red make her look prettier?”

Red? What is she talking about? You are barely conscious—not in the sense that you are falling into a slumber, but more like you do not feel… you.

A vignette overlays your blurred sight, only being able to see blobs of colors that you’ve learned to liken to those that you know.

Alatus is a peaceful emerald, opposing the scorching crimson known as the god you’ve once deemed your savior.

“I said free her from your bind before it’s you who’ll be seeing red.” His voice comes out much more austere than you anticipated—you can’t tell.

Another simper resounds in the—where is this? You don’t know anymore.

It’s hard to maintain your focus on them when the whirl of power within is too addicting to overlook. Still, you try to concentrate, albeit with evident complication.

The strain from trying to ignore the catalyzing omnipotence is more painful than it is cathartic, and you begin to hiss and growl away at it. Much like an injured animal.

You feel a hand caress your hair, the touch endearing, though it’s a prima facie act at best. You know that much—though you knew it too late.

“I like my beasts feisty. This one’s power-greedy, which makes it so scrumptious, but you…” the way she paused makes your skin crawl in anxiousness, “That desperation… could be put to good use.”

A brewing presage that, to your horror, comes true.

The moment the blur of red stirs past you, inching closer to the serene green, you’re moving—or you think you’re moving.

Your extremities no longer feel like they are yours, hanging on threads that oscillate only upon the whims of the smiling god.

“What are you doing?” your voice seems far, but you hear yourself, anyway. “This is not within our agreement, you said you’ll—!”

You said you’ll leave him alone!

Immediately, much like the puppet you’ve succumbed to be, a domineering yank slots you back in place, holding you down even if no visible force can be seen doing it.

Oppressive in all its decree, nothing can be done as you are forced to crash to the earth, the very power you beseeched being the one responsible to shackle and render you immobile.

There’s a click of the tongue. “Delicious greed, indeed. The only downside is that she can be so defiant…”

The power within you begins to fester without delay—and though it is heavenly, there is a threshold. Too much, the power is too much, filling you to the brim with the threat of breaking past the limit.

It feels like you are about to explode from the inside out if it keeps up and the burn—oh the burn in your blood- make it stop-

You cling onto the dress of the lady in red, pathetically tugging in apology for acting out. But she does not cease her punishment.

“Why are you turning it away?” she questions, infusing even more of the accursed blessing and causing you to writhe on the ground, “Did you not want power, my dear?”

Are you dying? Is this what it feels like? How funny.

You thought that with power, you can conquer anything—but here you are, overladen and drunk with it, but still, you are afraid. As you’ve always been.

“Stop that this instant!” the demand rings with unfiltered urgency. “[Name]!”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him call for you so alarmed that you’re miraculously able to cling onto the remnants of your consciousness, stubbornly not letting go. Afraid of what might happen if you do.

The blur of red has stopped in front of the green.

It doesn’t take much sagacity for you to know that the god is considering stopping, but of course—

“Be mine, then, just like your sister surrendered herself to me. Then I’ll let her go.”

—As always, with a price too great.

“Brother, don’t- don’t do it.” Thankfully, your voice has not failed you—yet.

I did this to protect you. I did this to keep you safe!

Right? He was the reason you sought power in the first place, you wanted to keep him safe, too—right? So why is it that something inside is telling you that you’re wrong?

No, no, you know your reasons—you did it for him, you did it—

“You swear upon your word.”

—For your brother.

“No, no, wait-!”

“That’s more like it.”

The atmosphere has gotten even colder, dropping to a degree where it feels like ice is biting your skin each and every second.

It contrasts the burn within, the discrepancy of bitter cryo and igneous pyro making it almost impossible to even feel.

You want to scream, you want to defy and demand for him to take his words because under the mercy of this—this god is something you don’t ever want him to face.

But your fates have been led astray, the alignment of stars steering off-course.

There is no turning back the moment you have allowed yourself to be [blessed] cursed.

You feel yourself dropping from the command she has on you, but for some reason…

“There, free from my chains.” It feels as though you are no longer yourself. “And blinded by the strength she so seeks.”

The power is toxic—running like fire in your bloodstream and dousing you in a sensation worse than your psyche being split in half. Yet beyond the concept of pain, there is power.

Power that you sought, power that you desired.

How bad could it be? Pain in exchange for omnipotence.

It is all that you ever wanted—right?

“You said you’ll release her!”

Of course.

“That I did. But greed is blinding. You’re mine now, Alatus.”

It is all that you ever needed.

“Gh—! Let go of me-.. !”

Why did you seek such power in the first place? Ah.

“Snap out of it!”

Oh, you don’t know anymore—but the power is too delicious. It’s too good, it’s too simply wonderful. You feel invincible, like you can seize the world and crush it in your hands.

So you will. And it’ll crumble like dust in your fists, split apart from the blade of your polearm.

Your body has seemingly adapted to the burn, caging the liquid fire within, unaware of its true catastrophic damage. Your sight has since then become clear again, but you feel… weird.

Awake, yet not lucid. All you can feel is the [toxin] ambrosia of potency—of might and inviolability.

The delightful thrum in your chest emanates the blinding power you proceed to be intoxicated in and you feel the bliss of it all as you take to the skies, looking over the carnage and the dreams waiting to be eaten.

You’re hungry, salivating at the simple thought of feeding upon sweet, sweet dreams.

Be mightier, be more powerful… !

[To keep him safe] To be high and drunk with it all is all that you’ve ever wished for.

So you actively chased after it, the insatiability keeping you on edge. It is a chase you are willing to be in for eternity.

Even though there are times when you crashed, the feathers of your wings burning from the overabundance of delicious, delicious power, you keep on chasing.

Sometimes, you think there is someone flying with you—but they do not seek the same thing that you do. How unfortunate, do they not like the taste of being unstoppable?

Sometimes, you think they are trying to talk to you, and though you see their face, you can’t be bothered.

They do not understand you—you are two worlds apart.

One night, when the sun entwined with the moon and painted the latter a luscious red, you came upon an assembly overflowing with hopeful dreams.

Who are you to not be ravenous?

At the center of all the carnage, you giggle, crazed and temporarily satiated. The smile on your face does not drop even when you are lying underneath the golden tip of the Vortex Vanquisher, far too out of it.

You see someone dropping from the skies, rich marigold wings folding to the ground, but you do not pay them any mind. All you can think about is the rich and devastating feel of power.

The polearm presses onto your forehead, then out rings a voice, weighed with nothing but apathy. “So this was that god’s little beast, a piteous avian…”

Familiar, that sensation of spilling blood, it’s familiar. You feel it dribbling on your punctured skin. It is painful, but its degree is far away from the poisonous sinew in your bloodstream.

You do not move as gold spangles beneath the crimson moon, like a harbinger announcing your death to come.

“Receive your punishment.”

“No!”

But it does not come.

“Morax!”

With a gasp, you tear your hand away from the man in question, the vestiges of the past withdrawing along with the action.

He notices your tremors before you do, but makes no move to approach given your frazzled state of mind.

Thunderstruck, you clutch away at your chest, breathing like you’ve ascended out of the murky depths. The conflagration of the curse gives off the impression that it has been resurrected, though you know it only to be an aftereffect of awakening a buried memory.

The curse—that ‘blessing’—is long gone. Its only relic remains in the form of your damaged body, a vessel that could not handle the amount of growing power.

You know that you have done something wrong, but the fact that a consequence made for you was instead taken by your brother—albeit in a different manner—was not known. Until now.

The gaps in your memories are closing and you are a hundred times more exhausted than ever, already on the verge of slipping away if not for Zhongli sliding the teacup forward.

“Drink,” he insists, “It has been enchanted, comprised with what sustains you until today.”

You do so without an ounce of hesitance, sighing in relief at the soothing effect of the deciduous remedy. It will do for now until it is time to return to your ‘sanctuary’.

Looking at Morax now that you are aware of things you weren’t before comes off as difficult, but you endure with pursed lips. Though you are unsure as to how to approach things after being doused with revelations… you will try.  

“You mean to say-” the images of before makes you shudder. “When he became a part of the Yaksha… his karmic debt… his contract…”

Ala—Xiao’s arrival then, when you were about to be dealt with necessary consequence…

The rest of your memories are still hazy, but it doesn’t require a genius to ascertain and piece things together.

Zhongli nods. “He shouldered it for you, to atone for what you did.”

The gravitas he bears—is that coupled with travail, or is your guilty, hopeful conscience making you see things that you want to see?

You know that saying you could’ve done it—atone, serve—instead will only provide an obvious reason as to why they didn’t even consider you doing it.

Morax did not trust you then—and you understand that perfectly.

But your heart still weighs with bitterness, with shame—with guilt that will eternalize itself within.

Yes, you have served Morax anyway, fought in his name despite not recalling the real reason why other than abiding by Xiao’s insistence that you do so. But it is as he said still, your servitude is far from being enough.

You’ve slain upon hundreds, preyed upon thousands, and ruined beings innumerable.

“Because of me…”

He’s unable to be peaceful. Unable to escape the threat of insanity coming from karma. He’s everything that you should be. He bears the opposite that you should’ve been from the start.

You feel small—terrible, awful- hell, nothing can describe how you despise who—what you’ve come to be.

Seeing your reflection in the tea makes you hold your face, wishing to claw and rip it apart if it means getting rid of the unsightly appearance. In your chest rekindles a blaze, but it is no longer the one borne of greed, but of dolor.

Weak like you’ve always been, you are further reduced to a shaking mess of hysteria.

The memory of seeing your brother on the brink of death one too many times when he carried his first name, the blood that was keeping him alive only knowing how to overflow…

“All I wanted was to keep him safe, too.”

How could it all go so damn wrong?

It’s messed up, you’re so messed up, it’s maddening—so infuriating… !

How did you lose yourself so far?

“I’m so sorry, brother,” your whisper is wobbly as you shrink, as if it can erase your existence. “I’m so sorry..”

He can’t even look at you anymore without hurting—yet still, after everything, he is still able to give you, the beast who lost herself in her blessing, undeserving mercy.

“Morax, I beg of you.”

Why is that?

“She’s my little sister.”

Polar opposites, that’s what you both are.

Existing as each other’s parallel, because that’s what you’ve made yourselves to be.

You don’t deserve him—his love and his mercy. For so long, he’s been hurting and it had been because of you. How much does it pain him to see you spiral into someone so twisted?

Oh, sweet heavens, you can’t even envision it all.

Is it worth it? You find yourself asking over and over again.

The transient blessing of power you indulged in, only to drag in the one person you didn’t want to descend with you into madness.

History cannot be rewritten, now, you stand in the aftermath of the dangerous desire you wanted.

You have changed him for the worst.

And you can’t even shoulder his duty, can’t even help him because he’s right; you are now nothing but a shell of who you used to be. You are stuck in a cage that keeps you revitalized, unable to do anything but be idle and it’s contemptible.

Even until now, he is giving you the mercy Morax thought was inappropriate—and you find yourself agreeing with the fact that it is unfitting.

How can you even face him now?

His disappearance is warranted and you will not hold it against him at all. Your very existence inarguably reminds him of all that he went through.

Does he despise you? A possibility.

Perhaps he took mercy upon you—and pleaded for Morax to share his perspective—because you are his only kin. And that it is only necessary to keep you alive.

But beyond the blood that you share with him, you are nothing but a constant memoir of a tragedy that cost him the happiness he could have had.

The truth hurts—much more than the faux, deuced ‘blessing’ you’ve been gifted with in the olden days. And there is nothing to do but accept it for what it is.

The journey back to the inn is a lot more hellacious than ever. Maybe it is because of the additional weight of knowing the truth, but the venture is herculean. The soothing relief of the brewed tea can only last for so long.

When you arrive at the balcony after paying your greetings to the Goldets, the place is empty, devoid of the presence and trace of the kin you’ve subjected to eternal suffering.

A punishment that should’ve been yours.

Feeling yourself wither away but remaining as obstinate as ever, you rise to the roof, nearby the huge branches of the tree upon which you once rested upon whenever you’d accompany the Yaksha.

He is not there.

Still, you can envision him, and just doing so makes you lean onto the wood, heaving. Your pain cannot be quantified, but you are certain that whatever you are feeling now can’t possibly amount to the one that your kin carries.

“Big brother,” you whisper in the wind.

Alatus.

Tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face in your arms, breaking apart. “I’m so sorry, brother, I’m so sorry…”

Zhongli is right; no matter the nobility of your reason for wanting power, you killed for it. And you enjoyed the blessing afterward.

It didn’t matter if it was because you were able to keep him safe while it lasted, the sin lies in how you were delighted despite the lives that you took.

It wasn’t worth it, it so wasn’t worth it.

Now the consequence lies in the form of your beloved brother and the rift that only knows how to distance you farther and farther away.

As if it is sentient, and, knowing you will only bring him more pain, continues to section him far from your touch.

How do you have the face to even be in the same place as he is? You don’t even have the right to call him your brother, for what you did—it’s sinful. It is something that cannot be pardoned.

You cannot be pardoned.

And yet, you ask him for so much. His time? His company? When it is being near you that teethers him to death’s cliff?

How brazen—how unforgivable.

But that needn’t be a source of concern now.

Standing on wobbly feet, you descend to the lower balcony, morphing into the little avian creature you’ve always been.

The gilded cage welcomes you—though it won’t be for long. It’s time to lift a burden off of him, time to take away his very source of distress.

It’s time to leave.

It’s far from the redemption you seek, incredibly so, but you will still leave. And hopefully, take with you, the past that proceeds to haunt him.

For although you share the same blood, there is no home in a family split asunder from the wrongdoings of one.

There is no home in a family founded in pain and loss. If this is your own punishment, then it is just appropriate; to burn all hopes of ever fixing the bond you desired to have with your brother.

Your selfishness ends now.

With you gone, no longer will there be a vestige of his tribulation’s precursor. Not anymore. It is the least that you can do after so much.

You just hope that after all that you made him go through, he’ll hopefully understand that despite your fall into greed back then, at the start, it was out of the genuine want to protect him, too.

The sky, still painted a rich navy blue, is littered with endless of stars. You wonder if yours is there, having strayed from the alignment it was meant to take.

You hope that after your departure, he’ll still be able to forgive you.

With a grunt, you pluck out a feather from your wing, The [c] lacking the luster it once contained, but that does not matter now, it isn’t like you’re one for appearances, anyway.

That he won’t think anything less of you.

It is the image of your brother that makes your eyes sting as you open your wings.

That he’ll still think of you as his sister—even if you’re far from being the best one.

It is the earnest want to stop him from hurting himself with you nearby that prompts you to take to the skies after so long. Alone, as you should’ve been.

That one day, you’ll get to fly with him again. As you did a long time ago.

Farewell.

When the moon has descended, leaving the expanse of the firmament for the sun to take its place, comes the arrival of a Yaksha.

He drops onto the floorboards of the inn with an exhale, turquoise ribbons that accompanied him in his flight vanishing in the morning wind.

Careful, he stands to his full height and scans his strangely silent environment. The place where the [c]-haired Adeptus often frequents is empty.

She must be resting—and this is what he would’ve believed, had he not realized the change in the atmosphere; the cold. It’s an unsettling kind of cold that makes him furrow his eyebrows.

“[Name]?” he calls out tentatively.

When nothing but the distressing quietude greets him back in all its noisy chorus, he is quick to step down the staircase, heading to where he knows the cage hangs about.

“Xiao!” Verr’s perturbed expression only runs a chill in his spine that he refuses to acknowledge.

Without waiting for her to add something—that is not his priority—he continues to speed towards the place in mind. He comes upon the gilded cage and he stops, breath getting caught in his throat.

Nothing is there, save for the single greying feather of [c].

The sight didn’t need any explaining but fate has its way of rubbing salt in the wound.

Xiao’s breath stutters out the name of his only sibling, whispered in the wind as he takes the feather in his fingers- only for it to crumble away into dust. His hand shakes.

Losing strength, his previously clenched fists slackened.

Out of sight, the dandelions and cecilias in his hands are strewn away, lost in the breeze.

a/n: isn't it sad how a fearful MC just wanted the courage and power to protect big brother, but in the end, she lost herself in the wonders of said power and ended up only hurting the one she wanted to protect? :)) no punishment can redeem her, and, knowing she is the source of pain, she decides to leave.

BUT WAIT- doesn't the cage keep her alive? what will happen now that she left? and big brother came back too late.

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk @alana5021 @koi-chairowo @uwu-dreams @yvechu @mininji

I NEED TIPS FOR FARMING PRIMOGEMS IN GENSHIN

IF I CAN’T GET CUTE EVIL HARBINGER AT LEAST LET ME HAVE GEO DADDY

Pose References

Art Tips | Line Weight

—

Hello, I didn’t make it in time but I still wanted to share this short guide on applying varying line weight onto a drawing.

In my first year of art college, drawing class was like a treasure trove of new tips and knowledge which I looked forward to every week. I used to only draw either very lightly overall or with the same intensity and no variation in my lines. 

But one of the first things introduced to us in drawing class was how to vary our lines and mark making to capture light and shadow through just our line drawings. I never noticed the big difference it made to drawing only in a line with the same weight or which was uniform in pressure. I saw how it added more depth and fluidity to the character or subject making them less flat and stiff overall.

So ever since then I have tried to observe more and make thoughtful decisions of where I can play with the pressure of my lines while drawing.

Hope this is helpful! :)

-xz

Can you do something for me, please?

I want you to reblog this if you believe that two people can be very close and physically affectionate with one another, but still have a completely nonsexual, non-romantic relationship. 

Even if the two people in question are capable of being sexually or romantically attracted to one another. 

Because the friendship I share with someone I consider family in a way that transcends blood has been typecast as a romantic relationship ENTIRELY too many times, and I’m beginning to get sick of it.