#if its not kinich x lumine its over

[vilevanessa]

Day 6 of posting kinich pics help this dedication is a false front

artist credit: genshin impact hoyoverse trailer

[celestemona]

BENEATH THE SHROUDED SKIES

pairing: kinich x fem! reader

cw: angst. main character's death. slight spoiler for 5.1' archon quest, though there's not too much to see. canon divergence. kinich may look a bit ooc here but whatever. not proof-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

The sky above Natlan had always been a warm crimson at twilight, reflecting the flame in its people’s hearts. But now, as the Abyss cast its miasma over the land, that sky was gone, swallowed by an endless stretch of black clouds and despairing. It felt wrong—unbearably so—to Kinich, but wars had a way of twisting everything, even the heavens.

Your face was the last bright thing he had seen before the darkness came. He remembered his last moments together with you vividly: standing atop a cliff overlooking the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, where your paths would diverge. His tribe had sent him east to deliver messages and support the borders, while you had been tasked with leading a vanguard of your own people to the north. Different tribes, different duties—such was the way of Natlan’s warriors.

Your goodbye had been silent at first, both too proud, too weighed down by your duties to say what you felt. But then, with a sudden urgency, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him close. Your lips met in a desperate kiss, a promise wrapped in fire and sorrow.

“See you soon,” you whispered against his lips, though the uncertainty in your voice told him that you both knew the truth. War held no promises. Still, Kinich had nodded, his jaw tight, holding back the dread that gnawed at his heart. He had watched you walk away, your form swallowed by the horizon, not knowing it would be the last time.

Hours or even days passed, he wouldn’t know to tell. The war raged on. Reports of the dead, the missing, and the injured were relentless. Kinich fought alongside his people, cutting down the Abyss’s beasts with cold precision, each strike sharp with the promise he had made to you—to survive, to see you again. But as the time turned into a blur of battles, one thing became painfully clear: there was no word of you. No whispers of your whereabouts, no updates from your tribe. The silence cut deeper than any blade.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of fighting, Kinich returned to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, reuniting with the others heroes.

The once-proud landmark of Natlan’s people was now surrounded by the grim faces of survivors. Xilonen stood off to the side, tending to her wounded comrades, her eyes hollow from too many losses. Mualani, usually so full of light, was eerily quiet, her usual smile replaced by a look of weary sorrow. Even Iansan, with her proud spirit, sat slumped on the edge of the arena, barely talking.

Kinich’s heart ached with unspoken fears as he scanned the horizon, hoping—begging—to see your familiar figure emerge through the smoke. But you didn’t come.

Mualani approached him, her face ashen, her hand trembling as she placed it on his shoulder. “We’re waiting for the others to arrive,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But Kinich, there’s something…”

Her words were cut off by a sudden stir in the crowd. Traveler had arrived.

Trusted by Natlan’s people, Lumine had been aiding in the fight against the Abyss, journeying between tribes, offering her strength where needed. But now, as she approached the heart of the stadium, something was different.

In her arms was a body.

Kinich’s heart stopped. He knew. He didn’t need to see the face to know.

(Y/N).

Your body was cradled gently, but there was no life left in you. Blood stained the fabric of your clothes, dirt clung to your skin, and your once-vibrant face was pale, a ghost of the warrior you had been. Lumine’s expression was solemn as she laid you down before Kinich, her eyes reflecting the weight of what she had found.

“We found her in a village,” the traveler said quietly, her voice heavy. “The Abyss was fierce there. I couldn’t make it in time. I’m truly sorry, Kinich.”

The words barely registered. Kinich knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they reached for you. You were cold—so impossibly cold. His fingers brushed the dirt from your face, and his breath hitched. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, no light in your eyes.

You were gone.

Mualani, standing beside him, looked devastated. She had always been the positive one, the one who could find hope even in the darkest of times. But now, there was nothing but raw grief in her eyes. She knelt beside Kinich, placing a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything. What could she say? Her best friend was dead.

Kinich didn’t remember the last time he had cried. Had he ever? In his life as a warrior, as a survivor, tears had never been an option. However, as he knelt beside you, the woman he loved, holding your lifeless body in his arms, the tears came. Silent at first, then breaking into sobs that wracked his entire frame. His head bent low, his forehead resting against your cold skin as he wept for the promises you’d never keep, the future you would never have.

“Why…” he choked, his voice cracking. “Why didn’t I…” He couldn’t finish. The words shattered in his throat, swallowed by the weight of his grief.

Ajaw, ever so present, stood next to him. The dragon had always had something to say—cruel, biting remarks about the fragility of human life. But now, even him was silent. No words, no disdain. Just silence.

Kinich’s tears soaked into your skin as he held you closer, the world around him fading into nothing. All he could see was your face, your cold body, the life you had fought so hard to protect.

“See you soon,” you had promised. This time, however, Kinich knew. That promise would never come true.

Mualani’s hand stayed on his shoulder as Kinich wept, her own eyes filled with tears she could no longer hold back. But she let him cry, let him cling to the last shred of the person he had loved.

And in the silence that followed, the miasma of the Abyss hung heavy over Natlan, a cruel reminder of the war that had stolen so much from them all.

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a/n: i don't know how to write good angst neither i do like to write angst. but this archon quest really left an impression on me. i hope you've suffered enough though i wrote this in a hurry.