[sonnetos]

                               𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐒 :      𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃

this is a private, low activity roleplay blog for venti / barbatos from genshin impact written by dove ( he/she ). will have spoilers! est. dec 19, 2020. 

                              rules   |   dossier   |  multi sideblog

[sonnetos]

hi friends, i'm not writing venti right now (that could change who knows how the venti muse wind blows) but i'm trying to get back into the swing of writing on my multi sideblog.

mostly posting in case folks see me in follows or notifs and are confused lol.

[sonnetos]

[sonnetos]

ID.  //  ♡.  //   NOW I’LL ASK YOU TO FORGIVE ME FOR WHAT I’LL DO TO SEE THE LIGHT IN YOUR EYES ONCE MORE.

a creature so bound to customs,    he would have felt it perhaps rude to not follow what he had learned in his hiding,    and the expression he is met with is briefly rewarding.    venti blooms,    putting to shame the flowers he had presented them with,    and xiao finds himself unable to look away.     their words,   however,    cut through this rather quickly,    and it is now xiao who finds himself perplexed;    catching him off guard is a rare feat.    ❛   i  …   ❜

was there an implication he had missed,    a nuance lost on him ?     how forward,   indeed,    of the bard to accuse him of such a thing.     ❛   that was not   …   ❜     how shameful,    for an adeptus to struggle to find their words.     it is as though venti had knocked the air out of his chest,    and xiao struggles to regain his composure.    ❛   i must have misunderstood,     forgive me.   ❜     brows knit,    and suddenly he wants nothing more than to disappear.    what a childish thing,    to be defeated by such a simple comment.    gloved fingers curl into themselves and he averts his eyes.     the fresh spring air now feels almost heavy.

oh it is a joy to watch the routine of the lone yaksha fracture. venti would say there’s nothing quite like it. the way the signature stoicism briefly washes away & in turn is replaced with an almost childlike sense of awe. oh my dear alatus, how innocence does suit your weary gaze. what a shame it so rarely appears in your eyes these days. they wonder if he remembers what innocence feels like. or does he only know grief & torment? 

venti breaks into gleeful laughter as embarrassment & shock begin to show more clearly on xiao’s face. he thinks he’d like to see if he can bring more of that out in the other before their time together ends. it’s that line of thought as well as the last glass of wine that drives them to move forward.  ❛   come now, my friend, there’s no need to be shy. it is a honorable feat to make such a romantic cry. would it perhaps ease your heart if i reciprocated the gesture?     ❜

their laughter fades until a soft sort of giggle, moving to pluck the cecilia flower from their hat. instead of holding it out to xiao in his hands, venti sends a light gust of wind to keep it up in the air as he sends it over. ❛   you may have my heart as well, if you’d like.   ❜  

it’s a cruel sort of thing to do to a friend, isn’t it? to make such bold flirtations in jest. or perhaps it’s crueler to venti himself to speak from the heart but only in way that would only be read as mocking? it’s hard to say. but whatever violence is wrought on xiao’s heart at the gesture is only brought upon themself tenfold. such is the nature of the selfishly selfless love of barbatos. 

[sonnetos]

❛   you know, if there came a time where another would hope to wear my face like that, i don’t know what i’d do. i cannot imagine the heartache that would ensue.    ❜  a third who bears this face, hm...that would be a little crowded in their opinion. not that he has any real claim to this vessel himself. 

[sonnetos]

ok i guess i do remember how to write venti lol

[sonnetos]

YOU /GRISPS

❛    now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?    ❜  the bard lets out a faux scandalized cry. dramatically placing their hand to their heart. ❛    my, the rude awakenings never end. i think i might like to return to bed.    ❜

[sonnetos]

HELLO?

you better wish venti a happy birthday or else

why does he seem more invested in my birthday than i am?

[sonnetos]

happy venti day!!!!

[sonnetos]

out of the current mondstadt citizens, venti sees himself most in barbara. 

[sonnetos]

zzz

[sonnetos]

hi

[sonnetos]

ID.  //  ♡.  //   SPREAD YOUR WINGS & FLY.

“ sometimes i think … that i’m not meant to be here. ” a pause, and they’re kind enough to let her finish. “ in mondstadt, i mean. not forever. ” because how long can a girl ignore that pull deep in her chest towards the tallest mountains and deepest oceans, or hide the yearning gaze at winding roads? “ i know it’s wrong, but i can’t help it. ” barbara can’t fix this part of herself like she does every other, even with her head bowed and hands tucked under her legs. it terrifies her, admitting a flaw this way.

❛   naturally of course!    ❜  the bard speaks as if barbara’s statement is the most obvious thing in the world. & in a way it is. would he not know more than anyone of how earnestly the people of mondstadt wish to fly? the god of freedom is not all knowing but they do know when the freedom of this land not enough for the souls that live upon it.   ❛   it is pretty normal for all birds to leave the nest at some point, no? but the question is...if you were to leave, where would you most like to go?   ❜

[elegaia]

@sonnetos​ asked: “I’m back, like I promised.” / hey but what if venti comes to see babs in their anemo archon getup || rattled & relief asks - accepting !!

things do not keep their own promises; not humans, not creatures, neither gods nor monsters. this barbara knows as easily as breathing. when barbatos cupped her tear stained cheeks and said ‘i’ll always be with you’, barbara knew even at the ripe old age of nine they would never meet again. 

(her tea-set sits hidden in a hollow log behind the Pegg manor to this day, abandoned save for the memories it held. the childish part of her hopes it’s still intact, though she’s certain the porcelain is long-shattered)

and yet here is Venti in the image of her her childhood imaginary friend in all their glory, gently drifting down from Vennessa’s tree like it hasn’t been a day since their last meeting. “ you look like … ” Barbatos. Venti looks like Barbatos. Barbatos looks like Venti (why hasn’t she ever noticed that before ??). Venti, who has been trying to convince her for months they are the anemo archon incarnate, who she assumed was either a tease or delusional or both.

she should — she should — bow, curtsy, prostrate herself before her god. Barbara is frozen in place. 

(she wants to hug them. would they mind that too terribly ?? they never did when she was a little girl. her thoughts wander back to a cecilia in her drawer. how when she glides she can always find an updraft just in time. how venti knows the tunes to songs she’s only ever shouted to the headwinds at cape oath. rather suddenly, she thinks she might be the most oblivious person in teyvat)

there are dozens of things she should say: apologies, greetings, more apologies, perhaps a prayer. instead barbara’s mouth opens unbidden and — “ aren’t you cold in that ?? ” her right hand slaps over her lips and suddenly she can move again, falls to her knees, clasps her hands in prayer, and starts mumbling what sounds like prayer. 

(she missed them. she hopes they can forgive her.)

[sonnetos]

ID.  //  ♡.  //   DEALING WITH DEMONS.

old souls cling,    claw,    cry in his head.    it is a burden of old,    brought upon by these very hands now scarred and torn with the efforts to tear the stone from the mountain of sin heavy upon his shoulders.    somewhere in the back of his mind:     his own voice,   screaming until no more words come,    too weak to drown out the noise.    the distant gurgle of the tides is on beat with the pain that washes over him until it threatens to consume him.    it already has.   nothing has shape,    everything a misty black,    the roots of old burdens wrapping around weary limbs and the thought of allowing the sand to swallow him whole appears almost divine.

blindly,    he searches still,    stubborn even in his agony,    not whole without his weapon.     a piece is missing,    cold jade and steel and gold should be grounding.     might be degraded to a walking stick,     something to push himself up,    to make another attempt at fending off what no blade can cut.    the sand scratches,   sears his flesh,    sticks to open wounds and gets into any and every crevice.     the fresh breeze of the sea does not come to wake him.     but there is a voice,    somewhere outside of the choir,    one that has his head shoot up.    a demon ?      a soul !     famished,    famished,    famished !     the name is not his,    nor is the voice recognised,    merely an indicator of perhaps something that could quench his thirst,    a soul with dreams and aspirations to devour.    in the haze he searches,    tries to find the source of it.

fingers curl into the sand as though to hold onto something,    slowly pushing him onto his knees.     a flash of consciousness:       ❛   stay away     –––––   ❜     it is a pressed warning,    in a voice that is not his own,    in a tongue long forgotten.    ( this is no demon,    i,    i am the demon ! )       and perhaps he is fortunate to be weakened,    kept on his knees merely by the fuel of retribution.      ❛   my spear    –––   ❜     frustration boils over,    sharp teeth bared.    one might think him a demon indeed.      ❛   no,    enough !   ❜      something roared up again,    bringing knuckles to temples;     cannot think through the voices,     cannot speak through the pain in his chest.     oh,   darling,    you miss it do you not ?      the sweet taste of dreams.     why deny yourself ?      ❛   leave me be    …   ❜

xiao speaks & how swiftly does venti’s grief return, washed up against him like the spear on the shore. this is not their xiao, not the steadfast yaksha with an unspoken kindness within golden hues. no, the being before him is much older, a reflection of days venti would prefer not to remember. though he would daresay any ache the sight gives him would be multiplied tenfold in the other. 

despite the anguish in xiao’s voice, despite the almost inhuman way they choke out their words, venti’s does not flinch nor does he step away. no, the archon remains still & steadfast before the yaksha. if xiao's firm resilience must crumble before him, then it is merely venti who will take up the mantle in their stead. his expression remains impassive for a moment as he lowers himself to kneel at xiao’s side. & then they smile, sad eyes never leaving the other as they draw nearer. 

❛    you have some nerve commanding the god of freedom.   ❜  he says with a laugh as mournful as the smile on his lips.  ❛   have you no sense of shame?   ❜  the words feel familiar, a memory of happier days flashing back in his mind. & here lies barbatos’ fatal flaw. they are so wholly sentimental, so wrapped up in the past that when the hard cold true crashes into them like a hangover --- all they can do is dwell on the drunken bliss of what once was. it makes moments like this less painful & yet...all the more so. 

venti shakes his head, reaching forward to take one of xiao’s shaking hands in his. he is playing a dangerous game now, greeting the devil as if he were an old friend. but xiao is not the devil & no number of demons wrapped round him would make him one. venti knows this better than anyone. venti who on more than one account has been faced with his loved ones corrupted by dark forces. 

venti gives xiao’s hand a small squeeze. between them a gentle breeze rustles their hair & garments & then in a small flash of light a lyre appears in venti’s other hand.  ❛   let me tell you what. if you really want me gone, i will go on my merry way. but first there’s a song for you i’d like to play. does that seem a fair trade, my friend?   ❜

[sonnetos]

ID.  //  ♡.  //   MY MOURNING DOVE.

everything hurts.    while upon the horizon the sun yawns,    lazy rays stretching over the plains,    casting long shadows over a landscape turned upside down,     the dust settles,    yet the fog does not dissipate.    the battle is won but it is not yet over:    something tears at a hazy silhouette,    tugging and pulling until the worn down body collapses.    an injury is nothing.     behind the mask that fell is lies a twisted face,    fingers resembling claws digging into cheeks as though to tear at his flesh and rip out what torments him.     the vigilant yaksha sees not the golden break of dawn,    nor the blood which stains the field.    in his mind the fight continues,    as voices scream and plead and among it a new one:     a spirit untainted now lost,    caught in the crossfire of what was beyond his control.    a tool,    a weapon,    a killer.

the strangled groan that pushes past gritted teeth    …     is it borne of anger or agony ?     time is reversed,     and forgotten the new name,    the old one,    while the spirit wrestles with the binds which grow stronger with every passing moon,     threatening soon to drag him down into incalculable depths.     something tears at the spirit who aches for his wings but long lost them.     it brings with it famine,     roaring up tenfold in the battle worn figure,     and yet nothing is there so satiate it.     when he opens his eyes he sees only darkness.      flashes of red with a voice echoing too close for comfort,    piercing and saccharine as though to lure him once more.

fingers curled to fists,    blindly searching for the spear that ought to be somewhere     …     somewhere    …    he only just had it !     as though jade might defeat the untouchable.     his strength is all but faded,     and upon his knees dust turns to smoke turns to tar turns to    ––––––     forgotten is the new name.     this being knows only hunger.

the air is unsettlingly still within guyun. so much so that it brings a chill to the anemo god’s spine as he lowers himself to the ground. even the ocean lay nearly motionless against the sandy shore, the water not crashing in large waves but mere ripples against venti’s ankles. the atmosphere is not entirely unexpected given this place’s reputation & yet -- the bard cannot help but feel disheartened by it. 

though perhaps that may be because they know he’s here. 

these days it’s hardly difficult finding them. such is the nature of those so thoroughly bound to one another. it’s not something venti had ever anticipated -- being tied to one place or let alone a person. but there doesn’t seem to be a more accurate descriptor for it. here they are bound together, not by duty nor by contracts but out of their own free will. the state of being both free & secured to one place had always seemed impossible & yet ... here they are. here venti is following his usual routine ( yet another thing he’d never expected to have ), striding across the shore in search for his love.

but it is not xiao venti finds first. no, not them but their demon vanquishing weapon. the jade spear lay in the sand amidst a pool of blood & dark matter. at first venti assumes the worst, fearing that perhaps he has come too late & was unable to save someone he’d cared for once more. but their premature grief dissipates when the sound of heavy footsteps approach behind them. no not footsteps -- the sound of rustling sand against the sound that could easily be mistaken for one dragging a corpse across the ground. 

but there is no corpse when venti whips his head around. the only body being dragged along is xiao’s, eyes empty & expression void of anything remotely recognizable to the bard. their heart sinks to the pit of their stomach. oh, my songbird -- have your wings been torn from you once more?  ❛    xiao? ...    ❜  venti asks, voice tentative & soft. he steps away from the fallen spear, outstretching a hand towards the yaksha as he draws closer.  ❛   have you lost your way, my heart?    ❜

[sonnetos]

every day sam holds xiaoven on a string over my head and every day i, the undomesticated animal that i am run straight into the angst trap.