chrysanthemums (c!dreamXD x reader)
request: “are you afraid to die?” had first person reply pick DreamXD !
warnings: blood, character death
note: enjoy ! testing out what will get more notes long or short form ;p
“Are you afraid to die?” the question had no justification. Maybe he just wanted to understand what made you tick, made all of these people tick. Why they waged fruitless wars and maintained fickle relationships. Were their own advances to guarantee a greater chance of survival or just out of peer curiosity in a deity that they couldn’t possibly understand.
“Isn’t everyone?” they looked up at him then quickly shook their head with a small smile “I guess you aren’t, how can you describe death to someone who has no idea what it could possibly mean.” They absently stretched their arm up towards the sky, spread fingers blocking the harsh sunlight from their squinting eyes.
“I’ve seen death, my dear” y/n burst out in a small fit of laughter. He didn’t understand how you could laugh at the idea of unmoving corpses, of pain printed into a soul forever still.
“Death is not just that, not just an untimely end. It’s a drive, a fear, a rebirth, and yes, of course, it’s eventually an end, but it’s so much more.” they once again craned their neck to look up at his stoic mask “You can’t understand it just by observing.”
“And have you died, dove?” three lives, a staple rule of the realm, numbers that became ingrained into each person. Where someone with their whole lives ahead of them was reckless and a boy who grew up far too fast must watch his feet for untied shoelaces.
“I have, I only have one life left X, I guess I just assumed you knew.” maybe he understood parts of death then. The fear associated with oblivion and the loss of a beating heart he didn’t possess. “No need to worry though, I’ve got you! And besides, I have no intention of dying before I can get you to take off that silly mask of yours.” y/n’s voice drifted off then, taken by the sweet summer wind. Taken away by the world that seemed set on hurting those that inhabited it. When death knocked again it would come as a metallic ring.
There were flowers that sprouted like weeds, but no one wanted to call them that for their frail beauty out shown their annoyance. Their fragile petals being taken away when a simple gust of wind picked up. They seemed to swarm Schlatt’s grave and it’s only when DreamXD thought about why did he understand. Know why they all wilted and died once he had pulled Wilbur from the dead. They had symbolized death, and they appeared in the worst place.
“Did you plant these?” he couldn’t control the way his voice spilled into static, a rumbling of thunder as the words fell like scattered lightning across an open field.
“No? Aren’t these the same ones around L’manberg?” X scowled as he began to pick the dainty blooms that had barley had time to mature. Some not even progressing past a mere green bud. Y/n watched with confusion as they burned to ash in his gloved hands.
“Don’t let those grow outside your house, they are a weed, my dove, unseemly.” his voice simmered down from the gruff static returning to the metallic voice that slightly resembled Dream’s. He didn’t want to believe what the world was telling him, that death was close, breathing down his angel’s back. Everyday this looming shadow grew closer and when death finally opened the door he still wasn’t ready, not after months of persistent knocking.
Chrysanthemum petals were littered in their hair that spread out upon the dry grass. Wildflowers peaked through where their body did not press down upon the ground, sneaking out between their spread fingers and kissing their paled cheeks. Scarlet was such an unforgiving color, one that reflected the world as a dark mirror spread across the ground. X wasn’t surprised, couldn’t be, wouldn’t be. Was this attachment a weakness, a tie the world must sever, a red string now frayed and burned.
“y/n?” his voice was unrecognizable, so far from the human he wanted to present as to give them comfort. He only need revive the fragile flower, but how many times will they be swallowed whole again before they are nothing but a vessel. The arrow that had torn through their heart stared through him then. How many favors was he granted, even as a god?
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