the wind must blow the windmills | venti
PAIRING | venti / reader
TAGS | general audiences, reader is not human, childhood friends (sort of), unrequited love, love confessions, alcohol, marriage proposal, angst, creative liberties with maigc, no beta, canon compliant (ambiguously in canon...)
SUMMARY | when you wished to see the human world that he loved so much, he did not hesitate to give you a vessel. when the man approached him at the bar, face red and heart relentless with passion, venti could not say no to a child of mondstadt.
WORD COUNT | 1.3k words
INFO | angstpril 24, day 2 (frozen + <bonus!> jealousy) | ao3 | more
As citizens of Mondstadt disperse from the town square after a long day of festivities for Windblume, Venti conceals himself behind a pillar. The winds can carry whispers, but even before any words are exchanged, he knows what will happen. A man dressed elegantly with a bouquet of flowers walks up to you—who stands by the statue of Barbatos nervously.
When you wished to see the human world that he loved so much, he did not hesitate to give you a vessel, and at your core you are a wind spirit, but if you keep to Venti’s word, you are as human as you can be. When the man approached him at the bar, face red and heart relentless with passion, Venti could not say no to a child of Mondstadt. The cumulation of his efforts is behind the pillar.
Venti holds his breath and braces himself for the impact.
It is quiet. The deity of winds had instructed it not to report to him the happenings. It will hurt too much when you seek him with questions. As he waits, he plays with his braids, wondering if this moment in time will stretch as endlessly as he feels it might. The confession should be taking place right now—
There is a gleeful scream, and then a mixture of laughter.
Despite being the entity that controls the gales, Venti is not sensitive to the feel of it against his skin. Humans describe it as nature’s kiss. It’s refreshing, especially on a hot summer day. A chilling embrace. This is the first Venti is made aware of its touch. It’s too cold to ignore. It is almost as if Mondstadt is once again plagued with snow and ice.
Or perhaps, that’s just his heart.
Regardless, the wind must blow the windmills in Mondstadt, even if Venti longs for something else.
“One more bottle, please!” Venti asks while he sits at Angel’s Share. This bottle is more than his current earnings for the day, but he has some savings meant for days like this.
Charles, the bartender, obliges. Before Venti’s thoughts can drift to what happened at the statue of Barbatos, a dark yet shiny bottle of dandelion wine is served, cock unscrewed and the faint smell of fermented grapes indulging him.
However, before he can pour himself a cup and gulp it all down, relishing in the burn down his throat that accompanies a fruity aftertaste—what he enjoys the most—a hand is on his shoulder. It is gentle. It is cold. It does not belong to one who is fully human.
Venti greets you, but he faces forward. You take the seat beside him, twisting your body to look at him expectantly, eyes bright and sparkling with excitement.
“And how was your first ever Windblume?” Venti asks, slowly turning his head. He also adds a little slur in his words for fun. He’s not the type to get drunk easily which he normally considers a strength to brag about, but at this moment he really wishes he wasn’t sober, so at least he can’t comprehend the delight on your face. Seeing it is equivalent to licking ice—your smile sends shivers down his spine, wakes his body with energy, but it also burns. “I told you that this nation is a nation of freedom and romance, didn’t I?”
You nod.
“Your silence is uncanny,” Venti points out, eyeing you from the corner of his eye. “You’re normally much too energetic and talkative. Aren’t you going to tell me about what happened today?”
“I mean… you were at the town plaza too, weren’t you?” you ask, eyes evading Venti’s curious stare by looking down. You’re embarrassed, and it’s cute. He brings his half-filled cup to his mouth, taking a strong whiff of the wine so that he has another reason for his poking smile. “My powers have weakened since I took this vessel, but I can still sense when another elemental being is nearby. You were there, right? Were you behind all this?”
“Why would you ever suspect such a thing?”
“I’ve seen you walk around with him a couple of times,” you explain, and Venti notices how you have one of the smaller flowers from his bouquet pinned onto your attire. In ancient Mondstadt, this was a tradition of proposal during the Windblume. Such beliefs are not practiced, but Venti knows you—the wind spirit who travels to find all sorts of flowers. This is something you’ll appreciate. “Not to mention, why else would you be there than to watch your masterful plan and gloat in its success?”
Well, he was also there for the miniscule possibility you’ll reject this human being’s confession, and Venti will be ready, arms open wide for you to run into his arms and admit that you’ve loved him from the start. Even a god can dream.
“Reasons aside, why are you here with me? Don’t you have somewhere to be, perhaps by the side of your new lover?” He teases as he connects his cup to his lips and take in multiple gulps. Ah. He just loves the taste of wine. If only he had apples too.
“I was wondering why you didn’t stop me, and I thought you might have something to say.”
If he had more courage—perhaps if he was more alcohol than duty—he will say what he wants. How he granted your wish because he hoped to travel the world of humans with you. He was ecstatic when you returned from far lands to greet him after all these years, and he wanted to have you by his side to tell your tales in exchange for his, and to never separate once again.
But the moment you had your own limbs, he did not chase you when you blurred with the citizens. He could not. He was frozen in place by his own ideals.
Your eagerness to have a human vessel should have been a red alarm. Turns out you were enamoured with a human from your travels who so happened to be from Mondstadt, and you returned not for Venti. The winds carried your desires to him one fine day. He knew he should not have heard it. It was for the better if he did not.
How twisted.
“I sure do have poems and ballads to congratulate you, although that would best be saved for your wedding day,” he says instead.
“I’m not talking about that. You know very well what I am. Is it a bad idea to pursue this? Will there be any repercussions for my actions?”
Venti ponders on your question. He has thought about it. In fact, the reason why he came to this bar is so that there can be a comfortable atmosphere for you and him to talk about this. (Or rather, a comfortable atmosphere for him. He drinks another cup of lovely dandelion wine.)
“If you are careful with all I’ve already shared, I believe it should be well. The body is just a vessel, and you’ve accumulated enough energy through your experiences travelling over the years to sustain its lifeforce.”
You sigh, a hand on your heart.
“I can’t thank you enough,” you say, leaning forward with arms open wide. Venti does nothing to stop you from hugging him. It is what he wanted, just under different circumstances. Eventually, he turns his body to give you a proper hug too. Your coldness resonates with something inside him for he too isn’t exactly human, and when he pulls away, he tries to douse that rising feeling in his gut with another swing of alcohol. It’s burning warmth is refreshing.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You can do something in return for tonight.” He calls for Charles who has been dealing with some hooligans that lost to alcohol. “I’ll leave the payment to you?”
Charles comes with another bottle, cock unscrewed and ready to be poured. You gladly fill Venti’s cup while teasing him about his adjustment to human society.
When Venti gives you a big grin, you narrow your eyes, unamused, but there is a glint of fondness in the way your lips tip upwards. It’s what he’ll settle with, so long as you still think about him with affection no matter how small.
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RESIDENT EVIL → THE WESKER FAMILY
To the public, little is known of the families behind some of the world’s most renowned bioterrorists, but the question remains: did they play a role in causing their children to walk down the path that they did? Or are these individuals simply ambitious criminals with delusions of grandeur?
For Diana Wesker (née Afanasyeva), her introduction into the bioweapons black market trade was upon discovering her employers were using her research into limb regeneration with salamanders to further their experiments in creating enhanced soldiers, instead of developing human therapies with which she was recruited for. Although the prospect of using biological weapons in the military did not appeal to her, the concept remained fascinating for her own selfish endeavours. Born on the 27th of October, 1963 in Sydney, Australia to Russian immigrant parents, Diana had harsh expectations placed upon her at a young age, ones that no matter how hard she tried she could never live up to. Her mother, Tatyana, was an unfeeling woman, absent for long stretches of time with little regard to how it affected her daughters, much more concerned with her craft as an accomplished opera singer. Viktor was no better. A strict man whose role as father and ballet master blurred, he pushed his girls to one day follow in his footsteps. Whilst Sofia enjoyed ballet, and went on to become a professional ballet dancer, Diana’s heart was set on going into the field of biology. She wished to make a name for herself, separate from her family – to which she succeeded.
Diana was married to former U.S. Marine, Dave Monroe, for only a year until he was declared dead in 1992 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a horrific car accident. Foul play was ruled out while Diana played the role of the grief-stricken widow, but in reality, she had snapped after years of mistreatment at her husband’s hands, and opted for something she could pass off as an accident to be free of him. For years she believed he was dead – and he was, legally – but that proved to not be the case when he found his way back into her life again in 1999. Unbeknownst to her, she had been lied to by the police and coroner, who were paid off by her employers when they took Dave’s body for themselves and used him as one of their first test subjects in developing supersoldiers. Before he could ever hurt her again, Diana’s second husband, Albert Wesker, tracked the man down, captured him and tortured him, before allowing Diana to get her violent and bloody revenge.
The origins of Albert Wesker’s involvement in bioterrorism, alongside his twin sister, Alex, are much different than that of Diana’s. The two hail from London, Canada, but unfortunately, they hold no memories of their lives there, nor what happened to their biological parents when they were eight years old. Agents of Oswell E. Spencer, an aristocratic billionaire and eugenicist, took the twins from their home and executed their parents as per Spencer’s orders. Albert and Alex were then placed in a home funded by the Spencer Foundation where they were given new names and a privileged upbringing. They had access to the best education possible, free to pursue whichever field they decided, but it was by no accident they both went into virology and bioengineering; at home, their adoptive parents – agents whom they believed to be their real parents – instilled them with the beliefs of Oswell E. Spencer, harbouring disdain for war and pestilence, and believing humans to be an evolutionary dead-end in need of a rebirth. They were only two of the hundreds of children “adopted” as part of what is known as Project W, a plan intended to develop an advanced race of human beings. The most promising candidates were headhunted by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the twins amongst them, where they went on to create bioweapons for the company founded by none other than the man who had handpicked them for his plan. The final stage of this was to infect the thirteen Spencer saw fit, however, only two survived; Albert received the intended effects, now possessing superhuman abilities, however, Alex was only offered more time to live due to her terminal degenerative illness.
In the summer of 1995, Diana was working undercover within Umbrella to gather development data on their projects for her company. Here, she had a chance encounter with Albert, an intelligence officer at the time, which permanently altered the course of her life. The two were never seen far from one another’s side, marrying in 1998, and they went on to become notorious in the bioweapons industry. The development of the Uroboros virus was where things took a turn for the worst. Although Diana’s infection was successful and she bore abilities that rivalled her husband’s, the plan itself did not succeed as they had hoped, and almost cost Albert his life at the hands of his former subordinates.
Now, they work within the shadows, with Diana declared missing and Albert believed to be dead. Their legacy, however, lives on with the mark they left on the world. As visionaries in their field, they influenced bioterror attacks carried out by countless individuals and organisations. In turn, they also inspired others to fight against such atrocities. One such person happens to be Albert’s son from a former relationship, Jake Müller, whose existence he was unaware of.
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