geewintg

[geewintg]

cyno tighnari and collei in drinks <3

[geewintg]

You found the one but...

Your perfect match

You met them

During the night where no stars lit the sky

But they were there

Right beside

Never ceasing to leave your side

It was at that moment

You realize

They are the one

#poem #writing #creative writing #oc rp #shipping #they are the one

[geewintg]

Commission Sheet

For the newer clients, take note that if I know the fandom, there will be  no charge. I’ll be listing the fandoms I know so far, but if you don’t see them in the list, you can dm me to check since I can’t keep track of everything I know. Example of my works: Serendipity in the Wind (genshin impact) Keeper of the Lost (prompt) Thawed Snow part 2 nsfw (genshin impact) The Point of No Return commissioned (sky: cotl) and other works

Fandoms:

Sky: cotl (game)

Genshin Impact (game)

Valorant (game)

The owl house

RWBY

Star vs the forces of evil

Gravity falls

Descendants

Miraculous ladybug

MLP: FIM

She-ra and the princess of power

Avatar: TLA

Anime and manhwas (there are a lot so please proceed to dm me to check if I know what it is)

Open to any kinds of shipping as long as it does not go against the *(Will NOT do) section. I look forward to working with you!

[geewintg]

alright, peeps! I'm opening commissions again in hopes I'll finish it by march. Don't hesitate to contact me for any inquiries! I'll be happy to accommodate your curiosities hehe (the commission funds I get actually goes to college funds)

Commission Sheet

For the newer clients, take note that if I know the fandom, there will be  no charge. I’ll be listing the fandoms I know so far, but if you don’t see them in the list, you can dm me to check since I can’t keep track of everything I know. Example of my works: Serendipity in the Wind (genshin impact) Keeper of the Lost (prompt) Thawed Snow part 2 nsfw (genshin impact) The Point of No Return commissioned (sky: cotl) and other works

Fandoms:

Sky: cotl (game)

Genshin Impact (game)

Valorant (game)

The owl house

RWBY

Star vs the forces of evil

Gravity falls

Descendants

Miraculous ladybug

MLP: FIM

She-ra and the princess of power

Avatar: TLA

Anime and manhwas (there are a lot so please proceed to dm me to check if I know what it is)

Open to any kinds of shipping as long as it does not go against the *(Will NOT do) section. I look forward to working with you!

#writing #writing commissions #commission #open commissions

[geewintg]

Just learned about garden path sentences.

They’re basically a literary prank– the sentence starts out in such a way that you think you know where it’s going, but the way it ends completely changes the meaning while still being a complete and logical sentence. Usually it deals with double meanings, or with words that can be multiple parts of speech, like nouns and verbs or nouns and adjectives.

So we get gems like

The old man the boat. (The old people are manning the boat)

The complex houses married and single soldiers and their families. (The apartment complex is home to both married and single soldiers, plus their families)

The prime number few. (People who are excellent are few in number.)

The cotton clothing is usually made of grows in Mississipi. (The cotton that clothing is made of)

The man who hunts ducks out on weekends. (As in he ducks out of his responsibilities)

We painted the wall with cracks. (The cracked wall is the one that was pained.)

[geewintg]

when you’re a sopping wet pathetic dragon and you’re handling your divorce from your twink wife horribly

[geewintg]

Opening my commission slots for the first time in this new year! The details are down below!

Also I didn't notice how blurry the image is when viewing it on mobile. Maybe I should fix that

Edit: Thank you all for those who commissioned me! You've been a great help ^^ I'll be opening commissions again by the first week of February so stay tuned!

Commission Sheet

For the newer clients, take note that if I know the fandom, there will be  no charge. I’ll be listing the fandoms I know so far, but if you don’t see them in the list, you can dm me to check since I can’t keep track of everything I know. Example of my works: Serendipity in the Wind (genshin impact) Keeper of the Lost (prompt) Thawed Snow part 2 nsfw (genshin impact) The Point of No Return commissioned (sky: cotl) and other works

Fandoms:

Sky: cotl (game)

Genshin Impact (game)

Valorant (game)

The owl house

RWBY

Star vs the forces of evil

Gravity falls

Descendants

Miraculous ladybug

MLP: FIM

She-ra and the princess of power

Avatar: TLA

Anime and manhwas (there are a lot so please proceed to dm me to check if I know what it is)

Open to any kinds of shipping as long as it does not go against the *(Will NOT do) section. I look forward to working with you!

#writing #commission #writing commissions #open commissions

[geewintg]

My desktop setup, finally it's complete 🥹🤧 I've been waiting for more than half a year to finish it. Worth the investment for my work station (ignore the messy wirings, I'll deal with that later on 🤣)

Look at little wint jamming with her ukulele

(for those who don't know, I also sing sometimes and do covers)

Okay I'll go back to writing my comms now lmao ✍️

#pc desktop #desksetup #oc #persona #keyboard #mechanical keyboard #writer #customized

[geewintg]

angst writing prompt

but sometimes, he finds himself searching for answers, for something that isn't there; hoping for that slight chance, for something that will never happen; praying… praying for what doesn't even seem to exist.

And perhaps, it was nothing after all.

#writing #creative writing #writing prompt #i dont know what i wrote this for but i found it in my notepad kekw #angst #loneliness

[geewintg]

Hydro archon, hydro archon, don't cry

Fandom: Genshin impact Characters: Neuvillette, furina Theme: Angst, relief, 4.2 spoilers

Hydro archon, hydro archon, don’t cry

There was a children’s story in Fontaine that when it starts to rain, the hydro dragon is weeping. Therefore, people would say, “hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!” Yet none consoles their dear archon that sheds a tear.

Perhaps it was fate that her suffering was her own, despite her sacrifice, she bleeds where she bore the weight of sins not her own, of lives she is not held accountable… but partly, she knows she is. All according to plan by her divine self. Thus, she feels half as responsible for people’s suffering.

But what o’ can a little mortal do? Powerless against divinity and fate having only but a mere human case?

And so she weeps, and she weeps, until tears roll to rivers. Her sorrows and madness trapped chasing each other’s tails in an empty room echoing around her.

Who is she now if she is not the hydro archon?

Who is she now if she no longer has a role to play?

Who is she now if she no longer needed?

Please tell me… who am I?

A mask that sews itself to her face, if unsewn, would leave its mark of holes that will never be undone having to bury its needles and threads for centuries on the skin. The mask—the role has become her, and she is it. It gave her purpose—to be as fit and perfect the mask sits on her face, but at the same, hide every flaw of her underneath it.

No holes, no cracks, no breaks.

A lone tear rippled the girl on the water. A distorted image of her reflection, a visage of superficial anatomy yet she thinks it fits her all the same.

“Is that the hydro archon?” A child voice gushed. She flinched, instantly pulling the mask on seamlessly like she had honed for centuries. No holes, no cracks, no breaks— no. It wasn’t like she was any other else. She is Focalor, the hydro archon.

Pfft, who else could she have been?

“Wait, Hydro Archon, are you crying?”

She burst out to haughty laughter. “Crying? Me, crying?” She cried out ridiculously, a hand over her stomach.  “What a wild imagination! Oh I even shed a tear! No mundane things can ever make an archon worry. Hmph, what such a bold allegation, child! You should know that it’s a crime to assume things about an archon! Are you ready to face the consequences in court?”

“Uhm…” The child tilted his head in confusion. “What’s making you sad, hydro archon?”

Furina made an offended face. “As I’ve told you, I am not sad!” But her features softened once she saw him frightened. “I just…” Her unspoken thoughts hung in the air as her gaze drifted. Every ounce of strength left in her drained as everything all seems to be for naught.

In a small soft voice, the child mustered, “Hydro archon, hydro archon, don’t cry…”

How could she cry? She’s not the hydro archon anymore…

“If there’s anything troubling you, feel free to come and visit. All of your needs will be taken care of and though I lack understanding of emotions, I will do my utmost best to see what there is to be done.” She remembered him say. Such a concise reply, she expects nothing more from their renowned chief justice.

Yet she gave out only an exasperated sigh. “No need to trouble yourself.  I can handle my own. I wouldn’t come to you for any of those anyway, don’t worry. We both know those aren’t your strong suit.” He may look unfazed but she knew his silence wasn’t. She had known him for centuries after all.

Although she already had her back turn on him, he still insisted. “I will be here if you need anything…” But she never looked back.

Yet after all those reassuring resolves, she finds herself yet again in front of the damned building that brought her so many bad memories. With her own two feet. What it is that she wanted? What is it that she wants to speak of him?

She had no clue. She doesn’t even know what to tell him when she sees him.

She found her steps faltering as clouds dimmed the sky. It seems that it’s about to rain… What could have made him feel as such? She wonders.

“Furina…?” The disbelief in his voice.

Did he go out? How was she not informed?! What now? Out of all the timings… it just had to be this. How unfortunate she is.

“Oh, uhm! I didn’t know you were out, ha-ha…” She didn’t expect her voice to come out so meekly but she detests it.

“What is it that’s troubling you?” He took steps closer that made Furina panic.

“N-nothing! Nothing’s troubling me! How on teyvat did you even come to such conclusion?” she faked a laugh but she knew there wouldn’t be fooling this person no matter much of a professional she may be. It worked for five-hundred years before but not now—not this.

“I can sense the water’s woes.”

Never in Furina’s life had she ever felt this small next to someone, always sitting up in the high chairs—she is the one who looks down on everyone—yet now, she does. Neuvillette waited for her to speak but her throat tightened around the words until only silence hangs in the air while the rain drowns everything around them.

And it was just the two of them.

She tore her gaze away. “Nothing’s wrong…”

“Furina…” She turned. “Furina, you can cry…”

Because the rain will hide it away, and only he will know.

#writing #genshin #genshin impact #creative writing #furina #neuvillette #fontaine #whos cutting onions not me you are #these two #I need more of them #not sure if this counts but #neuvifuri #i guess #people kept saying don't cry hydro dragon but what about the hydro archon #we must protect furina at all cost #hydro dragon hydro dragon don't cry #but then #furina furina you can cry #is just

[geewintg]

Trial of The Century

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Neuvillette-centric, furina's trial, angst

His hands felt cold. Stiff on the orb of his cane as the trial continues on. The onslaught of accusations burying the hydro archon deeper within her grave. The circle of doubt was a whisper of an ominous prophecy much like the one that was about to happen; that small pang in his chest as he starts having them as well.

Who is the hydro archon?

Who is Furina?

Cold as would the laws be in the face of the masses, but his heart wanes tender like the ocean tide against the shoreline. Two opposite faces of the same coin fought, he--as the Iudex--had to pick one.

His legs were numb as ice as he stood over the trial, heart was as loud as each turn of the oratrice in the traveller's favor was like chalk scraping his ears. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't bear to be here. He couldn't bear to see the tears that stains her blue eyes.

She turned to him but he closed his eyes. Her please were ever more desperate. This was his resolve. For the sake of the people in Fontaine. She is--was--the hydro archon first and foremost. He is the Iudex. They both had duties to fulfill.

Then declared guilty, his mind raced with thoughts. If she's not the hydro archon, who is she? For he does not believe this entirely, her persona shrouds with mystery and the secrets she seems to bury alongside her.

Like he had said, there were little to no excuses between them. They have worked together for centuries. But must the secret be so utmost important that not even the risk of Fontaine's prophecy faze her?

...does she not trust him?

The click in front of him startled his thoughts. The verdict is here... "The hydro archon, guilty..."

"--!" His blood ran cold. ...death sentence.

...how can this be?

#writing #genshin impact #genshin #creative writing #neuvilette genshin #furina #4.2 spoilers #4.2 genshin #im left with a storm of emotions that hasn't subsided til now #we must protect furina at all cost #i find their dynamic interesting considering one is the sovereign dragon and the other is a remnant of the hydro archon #ive never been so emotionally attached to any archon quest until this one #furinas trial #neuvillette-centric #angst

[geewintg]

okay despite me hating on mlb for how they butchered the series' plot bad, I'm still kickin and gigglin over the halloween special LIKE

SPOILERS AHEAD!!

man, the alternate universe's characters slap in every bum. The role reversal with adrien and gabrielle, with how gabrielle was more accepting of his wife's lose while adrien was stuck on his mother's death and he hated his father for moving on. This dynamic made more sense in my opinion because adrien, a teenager, a boy who lost a mother-figure when he was young, would be bitter about the loss, not knowing how to cope yet with certain emotions and seeing his father who looked moved on already amplified it further because in this sense, it made him lonelier. Gabrielle would have prob tried to talk to him but knowing how the usual mentality of people in this age goes, they would stubbornly believe and cling onto their own wishes and wants, seeing his father's act of acceptance as betrayal and already forgetting about his mom. He doesn't have the mental and emotional maturity yet to cope with the loss hence he walked down the path which was clawnoir. Unlike in the orig series where gabrielle was the one hell-bent trying to get his wife back while adrien just wanted his father to spend time with him.

I mean, it's not like this dynamic did not make sense. It's just that I saw the appeal more with the role reversed as this is how things with the lost of a family member goes. AND CAN I JUST SAY,

IT HAS THE TROPE OF MR POPULAR HAVING A CRUSH ON A NORMAL BAKER GIRL AUGHHHGHHGH it's tickling my brain in all of its weak spots I CAN'T this is just so cute honestly

that act of "admiring you in a distance" is so 😩😩 PLEASE WE COULD HAVE SEEN MORE but then in their masked forms, it's "I'll punch your face the moment I get an opportunity" they fight so badly it's not even what you can say a banter, they fight with raw emotions that scrapes your ears like chalk scratching on a board exactly just like teens who are going through a lot and the moment they revealed their identities, there was a hint of comfort that clawnoir awkwardly tried to portray because in the end, he realized, they were just two people underneath the mask who have rough things they're going through, added the fact that emo!marinette said she'd wish to replace marinette of this universe just so she could experience the good things here (of course it's also the fact that she's his crush which was another major factor to consider but I wanna pretend that the former is the explanation for angst factor xd)

they literally had this enemies to lovers trope going on, partners who are only forced to cooperate by a higher rank but could care less about the other. Can I just say that the emo!duo had more character arc than our mains for so many seasons? In this little flashbacks and small trinkets of what happened in their world, we are able to see more depth to their characters and progression to their plot. If only we could have focused more on the emo au, I would have jumped right into that ship to sail me away! Instead, we got an ending that focused on the actual au that we have. LIKE I DO NOT GIVE AF! Would give anything to see about the father-son angst of the emo au instead, like imagine, having to see that you've been fighting your son all along and because gabrielle, being the way that he is, would be crushed knowing that his actions are partly responsible for his son's path to darkness

also, I wanna tackle about emo!marinette's, when she said

that means that these two never have been formally introduced but she showed her frustration about adrien agreste being a menace and arrogant. Meanwhile, adrien only talked about specifically being mean to nino. But it's prob a chloe-marinette dynamic with adrien being stuck up to everyone but only targeting nino specifically. That's why shadybug groaned when hearing adrien agreste despite having no one-on-one interaction with him because as we saw, he became timid when he saw her identity. There would be no way he'd harm her theoretically. He may have struck a conversation with her sure, but considering his already-bad reputation, emo!marinette would have thought of him as a bully much like chloe, knowing they're childhood friends and would want as much to avoid him (this is literally what happened in s1e1 with adrien trying to remove the gum off marinette's seat that chloe did) emo!marinette is basing it off on two-peas-in-a-pod friendship, plus with what he did to emo!nino, no doubt marinette would see it that way.

also! I just wanna add that what if, what if the emo!adrien is dressed like we see him as is because of marinette who took on the emo aesthetic (if we did not include the halloween special vibe lmao), he did that style in order to get close to her and to have some ground topic to start a conversation. People tend to stick with people of the same interests after all.

man, there's more I wanna say about this halloween special but let's leave it at that for today. I also wanna hear what you guys think about this special episode? Because honestly, there's so much potential for this au and the fics AUGHHH THE FICS JUST IMAGINE

#ramble #miraculous ladybug #shadowbug #claw noir #writing #mlb #tales of shadybug and claw noir #ladybug and catnoir special #please I hate this show so much but like it won't get off my ass #I CAN'T BELIEVE I MADE THIS POST JUST FOR THIS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL BECAUSE I HONESTLY LIKED IT #it's like that “what could have been” show you know #i wanna read a fanfic of what happened in this au asap

[geewintg]

my pretty

♱ angel ♱

i present my most detailed and time consuming piece yet...zzz..

[geewintg]

Fandom: GenshinShip: Rosaria x Eula Commissioned by @lost-but-with-coffee Thank you once again for commissioning me!

The smell of booze and sour pinched the air. The ever low-lighting of the tavern lost its patreon in sense of time. A lot fell victim to its capitalistic nature, where they'd be merrily yelling 'one more' at the top of their lungs with no care in the world, trapped in the enticing delusion of intoxication. It is one's getaway to life's problems. And sometimes those problems weighs from someone's past, haunting them of their entire being.

"Oh here ye~ Oh here ye!

To the mellow songs of jubilee~

For the past of when she danced with beloved thee,

Now cold in her arms as she wept her mournful plea…"

And there goes the renowned bard, rosy cheeks and delirious eyes singing with his already-nasally voice, completely drunk in euphoria. The sourness popped in the air as bubbles fizzed from the cup that was being poured for Eula. She watched it with a glazed expression.

The songs of the tavern were unlike what she was used to. Unlike the refined, well-mannered melodies of placid strings in cultures of noble houses. The bard's ballads are like the temper of the wind. On a slow afternoon, it would dapple your cheeks with its loving caress; then on some windy days, it would be a playful child, slightly pushing you and messing with your hair; but on nights accompanied by thunder, it would clap, hammer down on your window like a crazy neighbor ready to hunt you down. His melodies would prickle Eula's skin, hearing the ballads of how Mondstadt regained its freedom the second time. But to the Lawrence clan, the tyranny by the nobles being brought to justice was a fall from grace. Proud and noble, they were. Insufferable and vengeful, they are now.

To Eula, they are nothing but a great burden. A stain in her being no matter how far she is from it or even if she has forsaken her family and their obsession of the past. The blood of those sinners—will no matter what—run in her veins.

“Heh-hey! Why a beauty such as yourself doin’ alone out here, huh?” Eula was in a dark corner and no one would usually bother her. But one of the briskly men came up to her looking for trouble, ostensibly a random citizen who’s too drunk to distinguish someone of her bearing.

Eula scoffed. Just when she was in a bad mood as well… but she was willing to let this inexcusable behavior slide just for this one night. “Sir, the only thing you should be hitting on was the door. You may see yourself out,” she coolly replied.

This made the already-reddish face of the man darken. “You—!” He pointed at her. “I know you! You’re from that filthy Lawrence clan. That bitch who got the galls to join the Knights of Favonius even after what your family did and you still have the audacity to show your face here?!”

Because of his shouting, all attention turned to them. As much as it displeased her, she can’t act on it because it would only show that what they’ve been saying about her would only prove to be true—a trap. That is what they wanted. One minor slip up is all it takes for the tower she built thus far for herself will crumble.

So she stood up and crossed her arms, remaining level-headed. She had a fairly decent height of above the average so when she looked down to meet his gaze, this took the man aback and clearly wounded his ego. “Wh-who are you trying to intimidate, huh?”

“Huh?” She tilted her head in a languid manner, shifting her weight on another leg to state her lack of amusement. “When was I trying to intimidate? I was clearly drinking on my own when you decided to interrupt my alone time.”

“Cut the crap!” He jabbed her, causing her to slightly step back. “I’m still wondering how the acting grandmaster even allowed you in when you’re doing all of this so you can bring the nobles back to power. Well, guess what! We’re not going to fall for that same stupid crap you keep telling us about justice and righteousness. You can crawl back that mansion of yours and never show your face again!” She held his wrist, stopping him from doing it over and over again. But before she could even speak, he slapped her hand away and shoved her. “Don’t touch me! I knew it—! I knew it! You were gonna harm me because all I said was true, right?! You people never change! You took away our freedom and you will always will!”

Eula was caught off-guard and stumbled backwards, causing to hit someone from behind who was sitting and minding their own business. “Hey—!” The person complained.

She panicked in her head. Not another one… the previous one was already hard enough to deal with. But she was left wide-eyed when the woman stood up and threatened the troublemaker.

“Can you stop yapping with your freedom speech? You’re starting to get annoying.” Her voice was sultry yet dangerous. Her finger claws clinked against the metal handle of her dagger when she twirled it like warning. “Or I’ll shut you up myself.”

At this point, the whole air of the tavern was quiet. Some were knocked out, some including the bard who was singing merrily just a while ago, while the rest were watching intently. The guards that were usually stationed are no where to be found.  This is when the bartender stepped in. “Pardon me. But Master Diluc would not be too happy if he found out there was a ruckus that took place here.”

“Then take care of him. Isn’t that your job?” The woman gestured to the drunken man who’s quivering like a deer in headlights, pale-faced having to meet someone like the woman who didn’t seem to have an ounce of hesitation to remove him. “Or if you want me to take care of him. Then by Barsitobas’ name, he’d be gone by sunrise. Just tell me.”

“Wait… did someone say my name…?” A certain drunk green bard roused from his stupor state but his head fell back down in an instant.

The troublemaker shook his head in terror. “N-no— I- I’ll remove myself.” The bartender also helped him out which he was too fear-stricken to decline.

The woman scoffed as she hung the dagger back in her belt, rolling her eyes and went back to sit on her chair. "Would you mind moving aside?" Eula blinked when the woman stood in front of her, impatient as she swayed her weight from one heel to another.

"Oh, um, pardon me." Despite the behavior, Eula felt indebted, so she added, “Let me buy you a drink as a thank you for your help.”

"Sure. But you know, you could sit down. It’s tiring to see you just standing there," the woman said, her claws clinking against glass as she played with the rim of her cup. Her sharp eyes lazily raking the aristocrat woman up and down.

“Can I get one more here?” Eula called out to the bartender and the drink was sent to their table swiftly. She did as she was told, albeit she had no idea or what to say in this situation. There was this odd feeling that's bubbling inside her, it's like the sour pop of the alcohol that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth if she doesn't wash it for long.

Does she not condemn her?

"Don't be too stiff. I'm not going to bite," the woman assured her, not looking as she took another gulp from her drink. "But I'm curious. With your status as the Knights of Favonius, why didn't you just knock them out? Surely, your skills are not all just empty praises from people's lips."

"I can't..." Eula said with hesitation. "You saw what happened. The moment I do, they use that against me even if it’s a means for self-defense."

"—because you're what? From those pompous nobles that took away this city's freedom?" The woman huffed with mockery. But seeing how Eula's features—who always looks sharp and rigid—be dampened, her smile fell. "Look, lineage doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things. Our past doesn't define our future neither do the people who raised us. In the end, we choose our own fate." Just like how she felt indebted to the people who gave her a second chance, to instead fight for harm, she does it for a good cause, even if she were to lurk in the shadows.

Eula cracked a smile. "It sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"We all have our own thing here and there." She snorted, a rare amused smile on her lips. Eula now remembers, this woman was the odd sister of the church—Sister Rosaria. There wasn't much known about her and despite being a sister, she was also rarely seen during church activities. It is the reason why whenever Eula meets the beloved idol of Mondstadt, it's nothing but "where's Sister Rosaria" or "have you seen Sister Rosaria". And to think you'd find a sister here drinking, truly odd.

There was silence—an apperception.

“I was raised by thieves. I had to kill my foster father—the one who taught me everything I needed to know. To survive. But is that what you truly call a father? I don’t know,” Rosaria mused. She wouldn’t normally talk about her past like this, much less to a person she just met.

“I forsook my family,” Eula sighed, grabbing the same cup Rosaria had been drinking off when she was offered of it. “My family was close to disowning me when they found out that I’ve joined the knights. But they saw this as an opportunity and tried to use it. I know about their true intentions and ceased contact from then on. It was… elevating.”

“Elevating?” she chuckled. “Like finally free of it, huh?”

The aristocrat woman hung her head however. “No. Not at all. Even if I cut ties with them. Their flesh and blood still run in my veins. I will forever carry the sins of my ancestors. And I will be forever remembered by the people of Mondstadt as the scar of their dark history.”

“Well like I said, it shouldn’t matter,” Rosaria waved her hand in dismissal, grabbing the handle that was still in Eula’s hand and taking a sip out of it. This left the aristocrat woman a little flabbergasted of Rosaria’s crass attitude.

 “How dare you—!”

“That is still my drink, remember?” she smirked which deepened the frown on Eula’s face.

“You could have given a warning.”

“Hmm… too bad.” The other just shrugged her off.

She slammed her fists against the table, albeit in act, following along the silly banter. “I will not forget this! Vengeance will be mine!”

“Try me. I’ll be waiting.” Rosaria’s eyes glinted in mischief as her fingers drew the length of her dagger hung on her thigh. After exchanging knowing looks, the two snorted.

“Perhaps, we should spar sometimes. I’d like to see how a sister can hold up against the Knight of Favonius. Would we be too lacking I wonder?”

Rosaria crossed her legs and placed her chin on her hand. “Then the rumors of the knights being unreliable would be true. To submit defeat to a sister of the church would be too humiliating.”

She crossed her arms and tilted her head in taunt. “Who says I’ll be submitting defeat? Just make sure you’re with bite, not all bark.” She could feel the coldness of her breath when she leaned in.

“Ice bites. Don’t tempt me for you to feel it.” The icy thorns craned her neck.

“I take ice baths in the morning. Don’t assume I’m not used to the cold.” She bit as well. “Well, let’s just see who’s has more frost for the other to handle, shall we?”

Rosaria hummed dangerously low, amused by the offer. “Shall we?”

Commissions are still open! For more details; for more example of my works

#writing #genshin #genshin impact #creative writing #commission #open commissions #writing commissions #eula #rosaria #rosaria x eula #my commissions are still open

[geewintg]

Commission Sheet

For the newer clients, take note that if I know the fandom, there will be  no charge. I’ll be listing the fandoms I know so far, but if you don’t see them in the list, you can dm me to check since I can’t keep track of everything I know. Example of my works: Serendipity in the Wind (genshin impact) Keeper of the Lost (prompt) Thawed Snow part 2 nsfw (genshin impact) The Point of No Return commissioned (sky: cotl) and other works

Fandoms:

Sky: cotl (game)

Genshin Impact (game)

Valorant (game)

The owl house

RWBY

Star vs the forces of evil

Gravity falls

Descendants

Miraculous ladybug

MLP: FIM

She-ra and the princess of power

Avatar: TLA

Anime and manhwas (there are a lot so please proceed to dm me to check if I know what it is)

Open to any kinds of shipping as long as it does not go against the *(Will NOT do) section. I look forward to working with you!

#writing #creative writing #genshin #writing commissions #commission #open commissions #writing prompt #genshin impact #the owl house #toh #atla #mlb #anime #anime and manga

[geewintg]

In another lifetime

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: Cyno x Tighnari

A gift to @dramagotchii during a cynonari gift exchange and I'm just reposting it on tumblr. It's available in ao3 too.

Synopsis: They say that wishes could be fulfilled in another lifetime. But it has a catch... with every reincarnation, the further apart you are born from your wishes. Until those odds could never be rekindled. Your wishes will remain as it is.

Prologue

This is it. The enigma behind the blinding light as he laid supine surrounded by crashing boulders staring at the clear blue sky. He can no longer feel the pain in his body; his muscles that ached, his lungs that burned. Chapped lips parted for air yet he can feel his breaths shallow.

Does he regret it? No. These were his efforts. To enforce justice is his duty and he swore until his life's end. He had escaped death by hair's breadth countless of times before that it felt like he was cheating life, thinking that he only stole his remaining moments, or that he exchanged them for something greater like his years of lifespan. Ironic, isn't it? Yet out of all the times it could happen, it only had to be now. It was as if the world was mocking—punishing—him for being too unfair in their tug-of-war.

Now it will take him; swallow him whole. He has no doubt about it. Yet in this short moment as everything crashes, he wished to see him. How he yearned for his touch, how he could only keep his hands to himself for years, how would want to see his face one last time. He wants to confess.

He felt remorse. Remorse of the fact that someone will have to know the news of his passing, that he failed in his mission right at where he told him to wait for him— that he'd come back.

He never did.

~~

The lingering smell of an all-too-familiar scent...

The seemingly mildness of floral mixed with fresh-cut grass. Like the nature that beckons him calling and he would respond with a smile nurtured only to it. He doesn't know; it only comes natural to him. As if it was something to him... something important. Yet all thoughts seemed to dissolve to an opaque sense of forgetfulness, like following an old unwinding path he knew too well only to come across a dense fog he couldn't pass through. He knew there was something beyond there, but he could only frown upon this frustration as there were no seemingly important memories to remember.

He always had that feeling whenever he lies in nature's arms: the oblique sky, the sway of the verdure, and the warm sun under his skin. It's not the sense of belonging from a city boy having to live in it his entire life longing for that quiet life in the woods. No, he doesn't think he fits in the forest nor its emerald pastures. It's more the feeling of accompaniment like a presence that gives him comfort; something to call home. He can't see himself tending to plants in a little cottage that hits them nicely when the morning sun comes, yet he could see it in his dreams. How those plants would be lively green and freshly watered, absolutely taken care of. It's not his, he was sure of it. He tried taking care of one only to fail miserably, fern dried and yellow under the sun. He thinks plants do not suit him.

Yet it always lingers, longing to find what missing puzzle fits the questioning feeling. A feeling that he never meant to have in the first place. No friends, no family; how can he hope to fill something missing when it was never there to begin with? Maybe it was envy that drove him down this bottomless pit, a hole forever marked on his person never to be filled.

But sometimes, he finds himself searching for answers, for something that isn't there; hoping for that slight chance, for something that will never happen; praying... praying for what doesn't even seem to exist.

And perhaps, it was nothing after all.

The painful ringing in the ear.

The smell of metal and powder hazed the air.

Dirt spray that blinds one's eye after a round of fire shots, and the harsh yell of orders from men to reposition as soldiers scamper for cover. The earth quakes so often it makes one feel numb to their breaking point of where they can't differentiate reality whether they even have their eyes closed. Their ears bled of a faint whistle that each second it took longer, dread slowly reaches for their ankles and anchors their boots to their impending demise. Then the explosion was instant.

The sky and dirt are painted with two different shades of red like spilled wine on a feast table's cloth between clinking stemware of merry government officials while fire rains from above on sacrificial pawns.

Cyno snaps his eyes open while the ringing fades. It was too felt—too real. The fire burning his lungs, the sharp whistle drowning the screams, and the throbbing pain on his right eye just where his bangs fell. He touched it, sensing the vague strangeness of having it there, the ability to see; to have it blink; to feel something that was hopelessly forever lost back within his capabilities washed him with relief.

Cyno is a top graduate of his class. Paired with his strong sense of justice, he never has the issue of lacking clients contracting him to defend them. However, only those who have done no wrong to the laws will ever be able to get his full cooperation, otherwise, they'd only get their asses handed to the court. Some clients knew so they would deliberately try to present an altered truth to paint them as an innocent victim being framed, but Cyno had a discerning eye for lies and deception. Being in the field of laws and politics, he is no stranger to these.

Cyno took a sip of coffee as he looked over the documents and continued to type. It's not long before he clocks out the office. He has no work for him since he had finished all of it as soon as it comes. He's still halfway through the documents and nothing to do after that. His assistant, Aarov, already headed out earlier because he finished the work he gave him. He said something like "I can't wait to catch the look on my children's faces when they see me home early!" The guy was smiling from ear to ear while whistling a merry tune as he packed his suitcase.

Cyno cannot blame him. Because of how much he gets contracted, Aarov had to carry out some of those burden so he ends up going home late. He complains a lot about how much work is being dumped on them, resulting to him returning home with his children already tucked in and sleeping.

Ah, yes, frustrations of being an overworked father. Cyno can sympathize but much less relate. He had nothing in particular that eagerly awaits him at home so he doesn't mind staying overtime to finish this miscellaneous work. The only thing he looks forward to doing is playing TCG Invokation online at home in his pajamas. He also loves collecting physical cards whenever he chances upon them.

"Beep."

His ruminations were cut short when the last of his colleagues pressed his card to check out.

"I'm heading out. How about you?"

Cyno raised his head and checked the time then glanced at the remaining papers on his desk. Just three more... he'll be going out soon.

"Not long. I'll just finish this." He dipped his head. "Good work today." The man returned it and closed the door then his work continued. The clock ticks blended with his taps on the keyboard until footsteps echoed down the corridor. The door once again opened to reveal a security guard doing his rounds. Seeing Cyno still on his seat, he wasn't surprised.

"Closing time," he grunted, then closed the door.

Just on time, Cyno finished the last paper and piled it neatly on top of the rest on his left. He didn't realize how stiff his neck was until he threw his head back and let out a sigh. His gaze was blank as the white-painted ceiling. There wasn't much contemplation before he started cleaning up after his mess and closing his suitcase. Soon, he was out of the office.

The way home was very much uneventful just as it had always been. There was moderate traffic and the ride was quiet with the muted sound of engines and purposely-chosen static noise of the radio. Life wasn't much to be contemplated for, really. He stopped by the convenience store to buy himself something instant to satiate for dinner. He could try to make something good but the best he could do from scratch was fried.

The moment he gets home, he changes into yesterday's pj and threw himself on his gaming chair with the instant food in hand, mouse cursor already hovering over TCG.

"Thank you for your services." The man gave him a salute which he returned, heart empty and mind disarranged. "...Lieutenant."

Should he be happy? Should he be in grief? For the award...or his lost comrades? He felt nothing; his entire being devoid of anything, just as numbing and hollow as the reassuring hand fell weight on his shoulder. The man dipped his cap below his brows to give his last respects then walked away.

Shouldn't he be rejoicing for war's end?

Again, he felt nothing. Like another meaningless existence of no purpose. He was going back to his once-again dull life wandering around its intricacies like a lost forlorn soul.

He held the box of his belongings with his basics. Two pairs of clothing, his uniform, and a badge of his honor...his sacrifice—the reason why he was discharged from his only life's purpose.

He is no longer fit to serve.

It's a pity. But he doesn't want to see it from someone else. He saw the way the man looked at him as he dipped his cap. Admiration, respect, but also pity. ‘What a pity you are.’ Those eyes said it.

The more he thinks about it, the more he is made aware of the absence of the bulge in his right eye. The way the bandages and soft cotton wrapped around his head... He could only exhale his frustrations.

Well, there's nothing he could do.

As he stepped out of dull white corridors, light assaulted his poor eye. It was like watching a film with a faded filter of white. He was once painfully made aware again that not only did he lose his other eye, his functional one is no longer as good as it should be.

Horse carriages rode around the bustling town square. It was livelier than he expected it would be, completely different from the deserted towns he had seen caught between the crossfire. It made him feel strange. The activities, the smiles from the folks, the laughter and squeals of children playing in the park—not screams and whistles of missiles.

There was a child wearing a newsboy cap over his dirty blonde locks, pointing at an ice cream shop as he tugged at his mother's skirt while she was chatting away with the vegetable stall's vendor. He had a huge smile across his face when he got one. Then Cyno realized that this boy could be any of his comrades' son. Some of them were fathers whisked away from their family to protect their country, others were boys who grew up to be men to take their fathers' place in the war. Then there's Cyno who was just there.

Life is full of irony...or it simply loves to toy with the intricacies of mortals.

If some other were to take Cyno's place, there would have been one family who would be able to feel the joy of having their dearest return. They would have been complete, not grieving, or left to be a widow to raise their child on their own. Cyno doesn't have those. Yet in life's mocking fate, he was spared.

What now? He doesn't have somewhere to go home to, doesn't have anyone to look forward to returning. Not a family, a relative, nor a friend. What a sick joke.

Horses neighed, interrupting his thoughts, followed by shouts from an angry coachman. "Move out of the way! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

Cyno realized he was standing in the middle of the road and hurried to the side before he could cause any major accidents. The coachman flicked the reigns to continue on, but not before sending Cyno a dirty look and muttering a few curses under his breath.

Well, that was embarrassing.

But Cyno thought about it long and hard. He had no destination. The city is a little too much for him to bear. Clip-clops from horseshoes striking the pavement, the churn of cartwheels and wooden groan of carriages, the bustling of people that were like bees to his ears—overwhelming. He doesn't like it here.

“After this, I want to live a quiet life by some rural town. Surrounded by nature and trees. Build a family… I mean if we ever get out of here alive.” The man cackled that drowns all their sorrows away as they joined in the hearty laughter. “How about you?”

Cyno was asked. And he answered, “I’m not sure.”

The hut was fine. Enough space for himself and his belongings. He’s a simple man who has nothing and desires nothing. A kitchen, a bathroom, a bed space, and a small living area with a short round table that doesn’t go past one’s knees. The walls were made out of concrete and draped over by a minimal space of aesthetic bamboo wood. The roof was made from straws, strong and meticulously made enough to be a strong household but breezy enough to ward off the scorching heat when the sun is at peak. Golden, green, and bright. The trees are like nets that catch sunlight as it streams down the forest floor. The soft wake-up call of twittering birds in the morning pleases his ears.

The serenity, it reels him was like no other. It was almost like his dreams—

Dreams...?

The faint gurgles of the river and distant crash of cascading water. The cool damp air on his skin as he strolls along under the emerald leaves. The familiar feeling swelling as he comes across a humble sight of hanging huts under the great branches of a giant tree.

What was that place? He swore he had never seen anything like it. His entire life he has lived through smokes and hazards, never once was something so peaceful, so quiet...so comfortable. Enviously so that it's surreal.

He breathed in the fresh morning dew of grass. Then sighed. Perhaps his mind is merely playing tricks on him. Nothing but an exhausted man from the battlefield.

After days of getting used to his new life in his humble abode, he finally sets off to go see the town square. It wasn't anything grand or noisy, no crowded places, no rattling carriages, no speeding horses, no yelling. It was absolutely peaceful, just how he enjoys it. He wasn't entirely going to settle here in the first place, but it is dovish and reeled him into its welcoming embrace like the cold silk sheets of his bed after a long tiring day of work. It was the sheepish bustle of a quiet town—peace the others longed for and in which only he was able to attain.

He first dropped by the local bakery for some bread. The aroma of fresh pastries greeted him like a lover hugging a long-gone soldier from war—warm and relieved, making him remember of the days food tasted before he started munching on dry, stale rations that felt like rock sandpaper to his throat.

"How may I help— oh..." The young lady who looks no older than fifteen—bright-eyed and with wide smiles—accidentally dropped the tray full of freshly-baked cookies. The metal made a sharp noise that made his muscle instinctively twitch. The girl was at lost for words as she stared at the mess she made and in panic, she tried recovering them from the floor. She muttered the same words over and over again while her voice wavered and the cookies kept slipping out of her trembling hands. "I- I'm...clumsy. Very clumsy— oh no! I'm-! I am such a mess..." Then she melted as if wanting the floor to swallow her whole.

There was another voice behind the curtains who called, "Collei? Are you okay over there?"

Cyno and the girl's eye met. She let out a yelp as if she saw something grotesque. And perhaps she did.

Cyno averted his gaze in shame.

A woman, a little older than the girl, with tousled brown bangs swept back by a red headband, came out of the back area to check up on Collei. Seeing the mess on the floor, she helped the girl up. "Oh no, Collei..."

"I'm really really sorry! I'll bake the cookies again-! I promise!" She blurted.

The young woman shook her head. "I wasn't talking about that... are you hurt?"

"Oh, uhm... Uh- I'm fine..." Then she groaned. "But the cookies for Sir Tighnari..."

"-can be done again later. Go patch yourself up first." She ushered her to the back room and sent her a big smile.

"But—"

"No buts! I'll handle this one," she reassured. Then she turned to Cyno with a chirpy tune, unperturbed by his appearance. Or at least, try not to be. "What can I get 'cha?" Cyno pointed to a loaf. "And?" He shook his head.

As she was about to hand it over, she paused, "Now wait a minute! I haven't seen you before! Are you new in town?" She leaned on the counter with interest.

Cyno hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"Don't you speak?" The question wasn't meant to hold any ill will, just pure curiosity. Cyno could tell.

"I'd rather not." He shook his head.

"Woah, you do speak!" Then she caught herself and cleared her throat. "Oh uh, ahem, I mean we welcome you to Ghandarsville! I hope you have a lovely stay in this lovely ville! If there's anything you need help with, don't hesitate to visit the town's hall! If you're sick, don't be shy to seek medical aid from our local herbalist. And if you wish to know more about this town's past, go down ahead to the center where you'll find our library. That's all! We welcome you once again to our humble ville!"

Cyno blinked, but seeing that she's waiting for his reply, he mumbled out an unsure affirmation.

"Thank you for buying our goods! Come again," she chirped, handing him the bag of loaf.

Cyno stepped out with not knowing what to feel. He felt the shame for himself, for making others feel bothered by the way he looks. He knows how unsightly it is, so before he enters another store, he makes sure to have his bangs cover his other eye. He doesn't want to scare anymore of the town's people.

The second shop smelled like stocked herbs. It was a bit cold and brooding. There was no one behind the counter until a little voice spoke up. "Welcome to Bubu pharmacy. How may I help you?"

It was that of a child's, head barely over the desk. Cyno was taken aback.

"How may I help you?" she asked once again in that toneless manner. Honestly, Cyno just wanted to look around.

"Qiqi, do we have a customer?" Someone called from behind. Then emerged a bit tanned slender man with long green locks spilling out of his bun. This is no doubt the woman is referring to as the local herbalist.

"Sorry, didn't mean to bother. I was just looking around," Cyno said politely.

Baizhu welcomed him with a smile, bobbing whatever that thing was around his neck. It looked like a white scarf with a definite shape; its one end doesn't seem to go down.

"Don't mind her. She's harmless." Baizhu followed up a chuckle as he petted 'her' head. Cyno blinked. She? It's alive? As if it read his mind, a tongue slithered out of it as it raised its head higher, displeased.

"He's new, Chanseng. Go easy on him please." The herbalist said as if the snake was ready to pounce on Cyno.

After a few more chats with the herbalist, Cyno decided it's time to get a move on and check the other shops. The third shop was owned by a mechanic; clockworks and motion movements. Parts of it were just laid out messily on the shelves while built ones were put on the front desk for display. Fourth shop was a small restaurant run by a sweet elderly couple. Fifth was a smithing shop which had Cyno genuinely surprised. He didn't think there would be one here. The townspeople didn't strike him as people who'd be interested in such things, especially with its blood lackluster atmosphere. The owner said he was a descendant of renowned blade smiths who also had a history with previous wars. He travels from one town to another to distribute his works but he mostly stays here despite the heavier demand outside because he became attached to this place. That, Cyno could understand. Then there's the library the woman spoke of, also the town's hall. But as he was on his way home, he passed by a plant shop that compelled him to take a turn.

There were flowers displayed at the front and inside were filled with even more plants Cyno couldn't recognize. It almost felt like he was inside a human-sized terrarium. Vines crawled up the walls and gripped around the planks of the wooden ceiling like a spreading disease. Some cascades down the tree branch decors, or was it a real tree? It was too overgrown for Cyno to tell. He trod on the narrow snake space left to step on and the wood creaked under the weight of his boots. Elongated blades of bromeliads draped over the pathway where he could crush it under his footsteps if he wasn't careful. It was like a jungle. The smell of damp air tinted with the scent of fresh spray on proliferating leaves and the sunlight that filters through the translucent glass. There was that chime again when the door closed behind him, alerting whoever was inside.

"Hello, is someone there?" A voice called from behind that made Cyno stop in his tracks. "Wait a moment. I'll be right over soon." There were clangs of metal against metal before the door leading to the staff room opened. There stood a young man with a dirt stain on his cheek, wiping the sweat off from his hands after using the gloves for extensive hours.

“How may I help you?” He asked. Cyno stood there speechless, voice waning. He felt a pull, an explainable feeling. Familiarity and repose. Yet he had never seen this man his entire life. He had no person to compare him to, no family, no friends. But, for some odd reason, he did. He felt him close. The brightness of his smile, the warm welcome of earth in his eyes, and the tide of his greeting. It all feels the same just like how he had lost it.

“Sir?” he tilted his head to the side. “May I get you anything?”

Cyno swallowed, a ball stuck in his throat, ebbing to spill unsaid words he thinks would not even be possible for him. He has found him.

…but who is he?

~~

There was this dream he once had. White knuckles, blurry vision, and blood drips on the floor. The fire in his lungs and the singe of blood in his veins. He was numb yet in pain. But before all things faded to black, he saw one person. A person who screamed his name before he fell to the floor, "Emperor Cyno!"

Then he woke up.

What was that dream? Who was that? What does it supposed to mean? Anger, terror... and then helplessness...

Wait— what was the dream again...?

Cyno woke up sluggishly in bed. His eyes felt like he had cried for more than hours at how dry it felt when light blinded him; they were puffy and red. His muscles cried for help and his throat burned sore. He was attacked by a million of needles in his head when he turned over to his side. But despite this, he knows he should get ready for work. This wasn’t the first it happened. He still needed to pass those papers he finished nights prior unless his assistant already covered that for him.

Things like this happens after waking up from certain dreams. Though he had no clue what it meant, it shouldn’t matter. They were just hopeless dreams after all, were they not? Maybe it actually meant nothing after all.

Some he remembers, others he doesn’t. But then they’d just come back to him again like a haunting visage, trying to warn him of something he couldn’t seem to figure out. Just like this one dream. His role was to enforce justice as the order of the Knights Templar. It was all he ever wanted to do since he was a child. He was given a rare opportunity, a young boy such as he who had no name and money to his title, no shelter—nothing at all, just like as he was for the most part. But these people are magnanimous. The regime was rigorous and severely strict, almost felt like he was no different from a spartan but that did not discourage him from pursuing righteousness, conduct, and moral; his life’s purpose, his dreams.

But all of it seems like a fading phantasm. Nothing but a delusion after reality sets in the error of their ways. They were enforcing law—a perfect world—a strict adherence all citizens must abide to, no matter who. Yet the rich benefits while the poor suffers. Everything can be bribed, dismissed, or closed by either money or power.

“Is this right?” He once asked, holding the bag of gold coins with eyes wide fixated on his colleague’s face. He was young and naïve. Inexcusably foolish. Yet he stood there in the dark alley watching dumbfounded as the aristocrat rubbed his hands together with an unscrupulous glint in his eyes, seemingly ecstatic with his negotiations with his colleague while the poor man this morning was dragged like he was convicted of ten murders, beaten and bruised, when all he ever did a minor fault that he couldn’t pay fine for.

What a perfect world they wish to live in. He realized his faults so he plans to make it right starting by enacting his own justice. But that proved to be much harder than he initially thought.

“Brother Lord Cyno, you are hereby sentenced to trial for your misconducts and disloyalty towards the Templar Order and the Pope for colluding with the Assassin’s Guild.” And thus, he was whisked away to the lowest of the underground dungeon where the most immoral criminals are held with contempt. He had trod this far and no doubt he was finally cornered by the people who saw him as thorn by their side. Where they served law as money, he served justice himself with the highest virtue. The order did not like that.

The hammer was down. “You shall be executed.”

And now he had no more than a few hours before dawn arrives, to relive his last moments in this waking world. Now that he had thought of it, it was all useless—a futile attempt to make the world a better place. It never was and it never would be.

In his last moments, as he offered his head on guillotine, he felt no remorse. He had served as he felt it is just. Amongst the crowd, the front row sits were those nobles, who he had on wit’s end tailing them, and consequently who had framed him, hiding their pleasure behind solemn faces. The common people were in tears. They were no doubt, the one who he had done service, and he was glad he had. Because in these moments, he knew that he done something to make the world somewhat a better place for those who needed it.

As the bell dongs, the wind picks up. It played with the trees and his hair. And for the first time, the distant clouds in the horizon never looked even more breathtaking at this moment. He had never felt more closer to the earth to smell the musk, the hushed lullabies of the dancing leaves, and the cool breeze against his nape. Then…

—shlick!

He saw him.

In darkness, he saw him. The way his smile graced sunlight blindingly, his dark hair that danced with petals of his garden, his careful touch when he tends to him… He never found him in this lifetime, but in the next, he will not forget.

Cyno opened his eyes, his hand slowly reaching for that tingle in his neck.

~~

“NO, prince… s-stay behind me!”

“Thank you for you service, General. But this is how far my lineage will go. All of my elder brothers are dead. So will I.” He then smiled as if it was natural for him to do so. “You can no longer walk, General. It is better for us if I surrender now. No more suffering for the people of this kingdom.”

The smell of incense roused him awake. Fine silks flourish the ceiling with deep purple and intricacies of gold that only befits royalty. What a strange dream he had. And it’s him again. That palace doctor.

Even his dreams he managed to slither into.

It wasn’t that long since he first just met him. He was notable but… that was just it. He wasn’t anything to be worth of special attention yet the people of his palace speak high praises of him. A young genius, they said. But Cyno was, in fact, more annoyed at how his mere presence bothered him ever since that day they met. Like he said, he wasn’t of anything worth-noting yet his gaze would drift whenever he sees him pass by like a sunflower to the sun. His eyes would seek him in the crowd like a bee hovering over a meadow fussing for fresh pollen and every time—every time—he would know where he was.  Cyno doesn’t know what to make of it. It was as if he was bewitched, hexed, captivated by no rhyme or reason.

He hates it.

He fought those thoughts, those dreams of him, the way he would know him by scent if he were blind, the way he would just stand out to him even if there were thousands of people in one room, he’d know him by breath alone—his mere presence. He’d know him. It was a losing battle Cyno was too late to realize. And soon, he found himself deeper into the hole where he could no longer get himself out of. Those dreams were the bane of his existence, for knowing someone who he hadn’t interacted with at all. Cyno no longer knows himself.

“Silence!” He growled. His advisers stopped. “Not one word,” he warned, “we shall discuss this later in the throne room.”

“Your majesty—” One of them hesitated when he turned over to look. He swallowed and proceeded, “May I advise dropping by the infirmary for your headache?”

Cyno was having none of it. This headache is getting worse day by day, and all of it was because of those dreams he wished could simply disappear acting like an intruding thought slowly driving him down to madness in each of his waking moments. “I’ll drop there by myself.” And they were dismissed.

He held his forehead with a sigh. If anyone were to see him taking support from the wall, it’d be a pathetic sight and a great insult to this great empire for their ruler to be seen in the hallway grasping the bars like it was his life’s end. But he can’t seem to get himself off. The pain was eating him up.

“Your majesty?” Cyno raised his head in distress, startled with the sudden presence; a voice from the person he’d least want to see right at this moment. That cursed pretty face looking down on him in confusion, tilting his head worriedly when he registered his position. “Are you alright, your majesty? Do you need—” He pushed him away. He felt their brief contact, the slight graze of their skin.

The serendipity of his touch, how his heart leaped from his ribcage and how it burned him. It made his hair stand on its end like an electric spark seizing his body frozen, motionless and helpless. Every fiber of his being responds to him.

This man is dangerous.

"Your temperature is high. We should take you to the clinic for good measure." He took note of his flushed cheeks and heaving chest, unbeknownst of the thoughts running inside Cyno's head. He flicked his hands away when he grabbed his wrist.

"No. I don't need your help."

Tighnari made an irksome face. "Don't be stubborn, your majesty. We're getting you treated."

And maybe that was the first mistake he let him do. He let him drag him, take hold of him, engulf him slowly but surely, he had fallen deeper to where he could no longer help himself. He became his closest confidant, his friend, the only one he could trust. He poured wine into their cups, raised it for a toast, but...

"Cyno?" Today, should he tell him today? "Cyno—!"

Huh? His eyes widened as red wine stained the furnished wood of his table. Not wine—blood.

He chokes. Like water in his lungs, his chest feels tight, burning— aching as it strips away every bit of his consciousness. Ah… there’s poison in the wine. But Tighnari could never be a part of this. He would never betray him.

First…second… third. Remember, the world gave you a chance. With every life you spent unable to fulfill your previous wish, the slimmer the chances you get to make amends. It was his own voice that speaks to him.

Second… He was the empire’s general. Such a high-ranking position for someone of low-birth. No name, no family. In the eyes of blue blood, he was nothing. A dirt; a lowlife meant to be trampled under the soles of their scrubbed shoes. It was until one nobleman realized his worth and took him under his name. He proved to be strong. But that nobleman’s good name was tarnished and sentenced, soon enough, so did the family fall. That kind nobleman, who was like a father to him, never saw how he had risen to the top and took the title he had so longed for him. He could only offer flowers on his tombstone and only the empty presence heard a proud son’s announcement. But having no noble blood running through his veins, he wasn’t duly welcomed by his peers. He tarnished the pure nobleness of the imperial knights—a mad dog he was called.

Well, those words hold no ground to him.

But they were right. He was a mad dog of the empire; a stepping stone of royalty. He was nothing but their dog. Blind and a pawn to their tyrannical schemes. He was sent to countless of wars, lead expeditions, and invaded countries. He was only a bloody functioning sword to the emperor’s eyes; as long as he remains sharp, he will not be discarded away. He was responsible for the empire’s peace and absolute power. But that power was put on a leash held by the emperor himself.

And there, he kneels before his throne not of reverence but in feign courtesy as that wicked smile would surely bring another order of expanding the empire in the northern borders. He will surely be sent away once again to bring glory to the emperor’s name. Such sickening deed. It rises a bile in his throat that bothers him so much he wishes to set this castle aflame.

“Go forth, my knight. Bring glory to this empire.” So as the king commands, he leaves due in three days.

Cyno could only grit his teeth. He threw down his stash in fury on the grass the moment he was left alone. “Curse the royal family, curse loyalty—”

“Are you General Cyno?” A voice startled him. It was mellow like the fields of grass, or the butterfly that flutters around roses. Like the soft breeze that sweeps his hair the moment their eyes met. And they smiled. It graced him like the light touch of the morning sun.

“Only certain individuals are allowed in this area. Who are you?” Cyno spoke warily the moment he regained his wits.

They chuckled like the soft churn of bells. “We haven’t officially introduced but I am the seventh prince. You can address me as Tighnari.”

Seventh prince? The forgotten one. This was him, the so-called disgrace.

Cyno collected his composure and cleared his throat, giving a proper bow. “My apologies, your highness, for the intrusion. I shall leave immediately.” Then he got up curtly and turned to leave. “Whatever his highness heard was not from my mouth.”

The expedition was quick. He returned with victory as always, reporting straight to the emperor. But he was egotistical as ever, bearing a cup of wine in his hand, his face written with slight intoxication. He laughed boisterously and raised his cup, dismissing him as he and the nobles celebrate with another feast. Cyno clicked his tongue in distaste as he left the hall. Yet he came across once again the forgotten prince who smiled graciously to him as ever, without any malice or judgment—no hidden agendas.

“Congratulations, General. I heard of your accomplishment, but why do you look displeased?”

Did he not threaten him last time’s incident? He spoke as if they were friends, his voice as sounding as ever. Does this prince bear no grudge? Does he have no pride? “It is none of your concern, your highness. Aren’t you going to celebrate with them? Your brothers are inside.”

The prince shook his head. His eyes expressed sorrow. “General, I am not welcomed. No one will notice if I am gone.”

But that is none of Cyno’s concern. So he left him there in the garden once again, wondering.

He saw him again when he was called to the palace, still in the garden under the tree, holding a book. He read leisurely. He doesn’t seem to be bothered that no one is looking for him. He looks very at peace. Cyno was caught intrigued.

He was oddly drawn to him. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks. The people still recognize him yet they do not bother with him. Yet at times, he caught him speaking to maids—reprimanding them, while they nodded and listened intently, taking the criticism genuinely. If there was one thing he noticed, while the people hover around the other princes like a moth to a flame, drawn but with one touch, they know it would set them aflame. They bow their heads in fear and respect. But with the seventh prince, it was more of a mingle. He was light, not fire. They revere him as a teacher, a friend—a prince of his own right—as someone who has earned their respect and undying loyalty. He scolds harder than the feared royal chef but, in that way, he also parts his knowledge of proper procedures.

Cyno only watches until he realizes that his eyes would immediately search for him. He would sense his presence. He knows his hobbies. He would usually sit under the tree reading a book and occasionally, he’d find him asleep during the afternoons. He loves the forest and researching about odd plants. Sometimes even eating mushrooms that would not be recommendable.

It was that one time he accidentally made himself known. His body moved on its own when the prince was about to put a mushroom he randomly found in his mouth. He held his wrist before he could even.

But before he could even explain himself, the prince chuckled and said, “It was about time you showed yourself, General. Would you care to explain on why you have been following me for a very long time now?”

Cyno was caught red-handed, flabbergasted and tongue-tied.

They were such great friends. But then that happened. Perhaps it was the deeds Cyno has done that lead up to this fall. They were invaded—an alliance between the surrounding kingdoms they’ve did wrong. And he died trying to protect Tighnari.

He was the only one he truly cared for.

He remembers the feeling. The feeling of helplessness before one’s mortality. The regret of things he hasn’t said, of the things he had done, of the things he kept… He wanted to tell him something. Something… what is it? That vague feeling that’s been wanting to be known, trying to rip free from the cage of his heart. And as everything flashes white, there was another universe he saw. He saw Tighnari, not princely, but donned in comfortable layers of clothing. But he still had that same smile as they hugged before he left. Two tall ears on top of his head that he oh-so badly wanted to pinch was expressing longing and disappointment as he went on his way.

Then rocks came tumbling down on him as he gazed up into the sky, his limbs numbed and unable. He can taste the metal in his mouth. The clear blue sky—it had never been bluer before more than now. Then everything went pitch black.

Cyno gasped. His heart pounded loudly against his chest, drowning everything, even the blaring morning alarm. He was covered in a layer of sweat. He took in a deep breath then let it go, repeated the process a couple of times until his head cleared of the headache.

He had a dream… what was it? He could barely recall this time. But he remembered the sunlight on his face, the soft smile, and the— that face… who was it?

“Man, after all this time, we finally had something.” Aarov pats him on the back. “That’s the person you’ve been trying to find? They look pretty.”

“A biologist. Currently is staying in some part of southeast asia. Makes sense since it’s tropical there and most of the forests were untouched. It’d be field day for someone with that line of work.” Cyno contemplated. “Prepare me a ticket. I’m leaving.”

“Wait what? Now?! You have work!” His assistant called from behind, stunned. Cyno said nothing else as he put on his coat and walked out the door. “Alhaitham will have my head,” the man said bitterly as he shook his head with a sigh.

Cyno stared out the window from his airplane seat. Blue skies with streaks of white. It wasn’t the same shade as he had last seen it. No matter how calm and collected he may appear, he was an absolute train-wreck inside. What should he even say when they meet? How can he just introduce himself? Like oh, I’ve seen you in my dreams. You were very close to me. Right, he’d be called crazy and a stalker. He’d voluntarily place himself in a mental asylum after this if it ends badly. But there was this tickling feeling those weren’t just dreams. All of them ending tragic before he could even fulfill his wish. Just as he was a retired soldier who found solace in a peaceful town, he had found him again by the odds of faith. But it wasn’t long until he was called once again to the battlefield where he died protecting his country. He couldn’t forsake his duties. He told him as he was leaving he would come back. He promised him he’d come back safe and sound, and he told him to wait for him, he told him he had something important tell him. He couldn’t say it then as he left. He had no courage. If he did, he would have robbed the person of everything, his life, his dreams, his hopes. And that would rip Cyno’s entire being. He could never.

But he never again came back. Only the wind blows of the sorrow that carries the news of his passing, an honorable death, for someone as him to have life taken away from him in the battlefield. He had fulfilled his duties—his life’s purpose—in exchange for one’s lament.

He regretted it deeply. So if lifetimes do exist, he wished he would choose another career where he could have avoided the inevitable tragedy. And maybe it was now that he gets to fulfill that wish, to be reunited with him once more.

But— “Everyone prepare for an emergency landing.”

Then an explosion in the engine occurred. Cyno gasped awake. It was just a dream… The plane is now landing. He’s fine. All is fine.

As soon as he sets foot on land, he made haste. In a rural province somewhere on the outskirts, lies a forest. People said there’s no scientist there, only tour guides. And he happened to come into the most inconvenient time of the year. People from afar would be swarming the place. That made it harder for him to find him. But then again, how should he even approach him?

“Hello, you’re here for the tourist spot, aren’t you?” A brunette came up to him with a wide smile. “I recommend visiting first the shed in that area over there. They’re going to give you a map of the area that’s accessible. If you manage to get to an area not on the map, I suggest to get back on track cause you never know what’s gonna bite you from the ground!”

“I—”

“And if you have any questions, don’t fret! There’s a reason why we’re here!” She proudly pointed to herself and gave an assuring wink. “But if you see a blond boy that’s just right about this height with a bandage on his nose, I’d suggest to get another tour guide,” she whispered, checking sideways if there’s anyone near them.

Cyno gave her a weirded side-glance but nodded. She was familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

“Anyway! I’m Amber, a tour guide, but I’m also responsible for the zip lines and air gliding. Don’t you just love it when you feel the wind on your face? It felt like freedom!” Cyno could only nod to whatever was being said. For now, he doesn’t know where to start, she is he’s only bet.

After her lengthy guide of process and procedures, Cyno suddenly had the thought. “Oh, by any chance, do you happen to know this person—”

There’s a really loud yell of someone’s name that even shook the trees and had Amber scampering. “Oh no! I let myself get carried away! Oh no, oh no, oh no! I should get going. Bye!”

“But—!” but she already bolted off.

“If you have any questions, just ask them at the front desk!” she called after him before jumping off a low steep hill.

Cyno was at lost. It seems he’ll have to do just that. There was a chime when he opened the door. A girl who looked no older than fifteen greeted him with a cheerful smile. “Hello! How may I help you?”

“One of your pamphlets and,” he said then whipping out his phone to show an image, “do you happen to know this person?”

The girl’s magenta eyes locked on the picture. She seems to know something but then she shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“I see…”

“Is there anything else?” she asked nervously although she tried not to let it show. There was disappointment in Cyno but this town is his only lead. After all those years that led up to here, he wouldn’t just leave without any new info.

The first day, he went around town. It was lively. It just happens that he came at during their time of the festival. Streamers and banners hanging in every street. Stalls and vendors lined beside the road fanning their grills as a statue carved in wood stood in the center of the town. Music trots around every corner. He visited every store except one, he saved it for last.

He stood outside of a flower shop, hands shaking in anticipation. His collar suddenly felt too tight, as if choking him. As he rests his hand against the door, it felt different. He dreaded but he continued anyway. The door chimed. A girl with bright apple red hair was behind the counter.

“Welcome, sir, how may I help you?” she spoke softly.

Cyno looked around. It was clean and airy. Everything has flowers. “Are you by chance… the owner here?”

She smiled heavenly. “Yes, sir, I grew all of them by myself.”

“Ah… I see.” Disappointment.

“Ah! But if I have to admit, I did get help from the tour guides. One of them is really good with any type of plants,” she said, scratching her head bashfully. “I don’t get to meet him that much. He’s very busy. But he’s very helpful, although he scolds a lot.”

The girl told him that he visited her shop one time and criticized the flowers. At that time, Nilou doesn’t know how to properly take care of them despite knowing how to arrange bouquets. She was ashamed. But while he scolded her, he offered to teach her. At some days, she would try to find him but she couldn’t. Collei would say he’s probably asleep somewhere under the shades of the trees while trying to do his own research. Before it could go lengthy, Cyno cuts in, bidding the girl a farewell. It was afternoon, he needed to find a place to stay. There wasn’t any hotel but he was lucky enough to find a small canteen that rents a room of their second floor. But he wasn’t able to sleep that night. His head was filled with only the thoughts of this familiar stranger in his dreams.

So when the next morning came, then the next, the fourth, the fifth. He had no luck. He had already checked everything in this town. By tomorrow, he has to fly back home. He went back to the edge of the forest once again. He held the pamphlet in his hand. If there’s one place he’d find him, it’d be nothing else other than the forest.

The forest was like how imagined it would be, but more. The gaping holes of sunlight, the quiet air, and the fresh scent of dew. Birds hopped from one branch to another as they curiously watch him pass by. He felt strangely at ease—at home. Like he had done this more than a couple of times. He had never been out of the city before. It was like a reminiscing dream. He’d walk through an overused dirt road, the large tree in sight was his destination. He felt giddy, over anxious from anticipation. He hiked up a hill, nothing but more trees in sight, the long-overgrown path stretches to a curve.

Should he follow the path? What if he just ends up as fruitless as he had been all the time? Then should he risk straying? If that person was the same as he knew him in his dreams, then it would be better to divert from here on out against Cyno’s better judgment. He’s running out of time. He promised himself he will not leave empty-handed.

He refuses.

He crumpled the pamphlet and dumped it in his pocket, never looking back again. Least to say, it was the stupidest thing he had done throughout his whole lifetime. He’s lost, the sun is setting, and it’s starting to get cold. The pamphlet is useless, he doesn’t know the area and he entered an uncharted territory. He tried going retracing his steps only to wound up circling back to the area.

But perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he thought, because soon enough, a person arrived. And it was one Cyno knew very well albeit his face was contorted with a scowl. “How many times do people have to get scolded until they finally learn their lesson of ever going out of bounds, huh? Are your brains simply build upon stone bricks because it seems to me, none of this is getting to your THICK SKULLS!” His faced was flashed with a flashlight and a blanket was thrown at his face. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Cyno’s chest swelled. “Finally found you.”

#genshin #writing #creative writing #cynonari #cynari #ao3 #cyno x tighnari #collei #multiple lifetimes #dreams #reincarnation #pining #angst #tragedy

[geewintg]

"Life wouldn't just be a bed of roses. Remember, dear. Roses have thorns."

#creative writing #writing #writing prompt #quotes #character dialogue #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #oc #oc rp