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limitbreaker23 · 3 months ago

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This so cute, and I'm so touched you enjoyed my little oc being present, that I wrote you this little moment of Lan Xichen and Yu Mengwan together after Chengzhan's wedding in Silence. Thank youuuuuuu so much!🥹 🤲 *ugly crying noises*

Lan Xichen let out a sigh too loud to be ignored. Watching his little brother set off for weeks of night hunting right after his wedding left him with tangled feelings. The soft expression of happiness on Lan Wangji’s face stretched his lips into the smallest of smiles and sprinkled glittering light into his eyes. Rarer than blue and red moons, calmer and more threatening than both as well. Next to Clan Leader Jiang’s bright grin, cutting across his face until his teeth were bared in laughter instead of a growl for once, no one would once again pay attention to Lan Wangji’s subdued happiness. Only this one person looked at Lan Wangji with all his might, and Lan Xichen tried only to linger on that.

He didn’t have trouble smiling back as Lan Wangji bowed his final goodbye and rode off on horseback with Clan Leader Jiang. That heavy heart of his forced him to watch them grow smaller and smaller in the distance. It wasn’t torturing him anymore, it wasn’t painful, but a heart needed more time to let go of some people. Lan Wangji had always enjoyed night hunts, travelling, wandering the world and taking in its wonders and plights. Lan Xichen had always enjoyed receiving his letters, never more than a few sentences, and a gift from his travels attached from time to time. Now, would he still receive letters from his brother?

“Zewu-Jun.”

Clan Leader Jiang’s second in command had approached him, clasped his hands in a quick, friendly greeting. Yu Mengwan had been appointed as second in command only recently, and was now already in charge of the entirety of Lotus Pier in Clan Leader Jiang’s absence. He smiled as if that responsibility was joy, not a burden, and a little flutter of the heart was unavoidable.

“You’ve been standing here for a while. Would you come and join me to show you a better view?”

Lan Xichen smiled back. His heavy heart could still flutter, perhaps it could soar again sooner than anticipated. “I’d be happy to. Lead the way.”

Yu Mengwan offered him a smirk void of mischief to cling to, then led him away from the gates of Lotus Pier. They crossed bridged walkways, water full of lotus flowers glistening beneath their feet, and headed through courtyards full of wedding decorations. Lotus Pier had bloomed under them, and the disciples and servants all indulged in taking in the sight once more, before joining efforts to take them down together.

Yu Mengwan was chatting as they walked towards the lakes. It was always good to have someone around that was great at telling stories, that could take the mind to different places when it wanted to hide. Lan Xichen listened to all the stories as intently as possible. Listened to which rooms Clan Leader Jiang had rebuilt, which details in the carvings he had been particular about, where he had been fed up with delays to the point of hammering a roof into place himself. He listened to which places Lan Wangji had enjoyed to spent his days at when he had visited Lotus Pier for a prolonged amount of time last winter. How he had taught little Young Master Jin horse riding here, archery over there, and scouted an instrument for music lessons right there.

Apparently, another roof had fallen victim to the snow and Lan Wangji had fixed it together with Clan Leader Jiang. This was just something Lan Wangji indulged in at times, when he saw the need for a helping hand, he extended it until his arm was pulled and nearly torn off. Clan Leader Jiang didn’t seem like the person that would sit on a rooftop in winter to fix wood and frames, but looking up at the room Yu Mengwan pointed at, Lan Xichen could see the shape of his brother, joined by his now-husband, and he hoped they had looked as happy as his mind painted them.

“These piers, too,” Yu Mengwan said as they walked out towards the lakes. “They were scorched and broken when we returned to Lotus Pier after the Sunshot Campaign. Supplies and workers were limited, so we all worked on it together. Oh, watch out if you ever go to the eastside. Whoever put those planks together thought all people can float over those giant gaps between them.”

Lan Xichen raised his hand to cover his laughter behind his sleeve. The railing here was steady enough to lean against, which Yu Mengwan made a point out of showing him as he casually leant against it to present the view of the lake. Perhaps not worth another laugh, and Lan Xichen gave it anyway.

“Good work,” he said and patted the railing, as if it had put itself together, and that was ridiculous enough that Yu Mengwan should laugh back at him, not just smirk.

“Thank you, Zewu-Jun. Up until… this part over there, I built it all by myself.” Yu Mengwan ran his hand over the smooth railing like he, too, was praising it for holding together so well for many years. “So, naturally, I think it has the best view in all of Lotus Pier. What do you think?”

Lan Xichen settled his hand on the railing, smooth and without the danger of possible splinters, and looked out over the lakes. From where they were standing, nothing obscured the view all the way to the other shores, no houses, no pavilions, no boats, only the vast horizon. In the golden sunlight, the water gleamed more beautiful than jewellery. The thick green leaves of the lotus flowers around them were covered in sparkling dewdrops, healthy and strong, without bitemarks from water spirits on them. In the coming months, they would bloom splendidly, surely.

“What a beautiful view to enjoy while working,” Lan Xichen said. “I hope to see more of it in the summer.”

“Nothing will stop you from visiting,” Yu Mengwan said with that hint of his smirk almost teasing, quite distracting from the view. Quite some foolish flutters of the heart.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s no need to worry,” Lan Xichen said quickly. “This isn’t a prison, after all…”

Yu Mengwan squinted at him for a moment, then took it as a joke, which most people at Gusu-Lan were not skilled at. “You looked quite pitiful, staring after your brother, as if you’d never see each other again, so I wanted to make sure,” he said, just like this. “I’m aware there were some disagreements between you, your brother, and Clan Leader Jiang. But it’s settled now, and you know…” He looked down to the pier, poked the tip of his boot at the small gap between the planks where the lake water was dragged past them by the gentle winds. “Water under the bridge.”

“Oh? Why do I feel like you have to talk to a child, Yu Mengwan?” Lan Xichen asked with a smile, too appreciative for the advice to make his reply sound insulting.

Yu Mengwan seemed to take no offense, had given none either. “Don’t most of us enjoy when someone talks to us like they worry? And too few people try and encourage us to do better after a certain age, hm?”

Lan Xichen smiled, because yes, at some point, teachers seemed to never guide you anymore. Apart from Jin Guangyao, who now had too many people to worry about, only his brother had never stopped. And now, with Lan Wangji leaving him, who would find him early in the morning in a cold room and drape a cloak around his shoulders, sit quietly next to him as he answered correspondence, play the qin to ease his mind?

Lan Xichen noticed that he had nervously tapped the smooth railing and been watched. He quickly smiled and stopped treating wood as if it was an instrument’s strings, worth a melody long past.

“I know that it’s sometimes hard and sometimes not so hard to let a brother go, I do,” Yu Mengwan said. “Oh, believe me, my brother would be over the moon if he didn’t have to see my face every day. I hope you didn’t feel offended hearing him serenade the moon the other night. He was a little tipsy.”

“I saw you blocking Clan Leader Jiang’s view when your brother was drinking under the kitchen table,” Lan Xichen said, because he couldn’t help himself. Not when Yu Mengwan made such an endearing pained face as if someone had caught him and not his brother drink from the giant jar of wine under the table. “It seemed Clan Leader Jiang only pretended he didn’t see.”

“Brothers,” Yu Mengwan said through clenched jaws, expecting reassurance, and Lan Xichen gave it instinctively, his heart fluttering, hoping for another smile, and when relief washed over that handsome face, the smile returned. Thankfully.

A little foolish, but no one there to judge foolishness and flutters. Lan Xichen clung to the railing and leant just a little closer, lowered his voice just a little.

“You and your brother,” he asked, slowly and carefully, almost whispering his words, as if they were sharing a secret, “have been staying at Lotus Pier for a while now. Perhaps you feel unrest… and yearn to travel soon?”

Yu Mengwan crossed his arms on the railing, right next to his grip, and leant right into his space, eyebrows raised in question. “What do you mean to ask?”

He wasn’t too sure himself. “By now, it’s almost certain Clan Leader Jiang’s second in command is destined for greater adventures the moment they’re appointed. Your predecessors married quickly only a few months later and returned to their homes. Do you… well. Someone like you… I’m sure, well, you have many options.”

“Me?” Yu Mengwan chuckled as if that was the only funny thing about Lan Xichen’s embarrassing stutter of words he had immediately regretted. “I don’t plan on getting married. And I don’t plan on leaving my home here. When you ask whether my brother and I will ever return to Meishan-Yu, then I cannot speak for him, only for myself. Lotus Pier is my home now. I decided to follow Jiang Cheng during the Sunshot Campaign, and I have seen nothing that will change my mind.”

“Oh?” Perhaps sometimes a mere sound implied a thousand questions.

“I know Jiang Cheng since he was a child. When we trained with the spiritual whip, my brothers and I, he was dashing through the gaps, jumping over and around them, until we had to tie him up, and he still demanded to train with us. I remember him fighting, leading, rebuilding. I remember the blood on his face and hands, and I stopped thinking that this is only a child I knew once. That was Clan Leader Jiang now, who would do anything to keep us safe, stain his hands before ours, even when others would judge him for his actions. All of our wrongs and rights built this shelter we have now. We made ourselves a new home at Lotus Pier, all of us together. I’m not leaving it. I’ve worked so hard for this position. The heavens, the earth, hell can all try and take it from me. Let them come.”

Lan Xichen smiled, listening to this confession of loyalty, and even when his heart felt heavier again, it wasn’t stopped from soaring straight out of his chest, leaving him warm all over. His smile felt like it reached place it hadn’t reached in a long time, and Yu Mengwan did smile back at him, his face seeming a little redder than before.

He pushed himself off the railing and rubbed the back of his neck, almost shyly, cleared his throat. “I also remember your brother when he was a strict little boy, disciplining boys three heads taller than himself. He was far from polite refusing to eat my steamed buns. I even had some without meat for him. Just to remind you.”

“I don’t need reminding. My uncle fondly remembers Wangji’s first time punishing someone, three heads taller than himself. He loves telling the story.”

Yu Mengwan let out a pained chuckle, as if he was about to burst into tears at the memory of that strict child standing tall next to his kneeling figure, reciting the regulations to hammer them into his brain with unrelenting calm.

“It’s hard to remember your brother ever was a child,” Yu Mengwan said.

Lan Xichen nodded. “Sometimes…”

Yu Mengwan glanced at him for a moment too long, then patted the railing next to Lan Xichen’s hand, a little close, a little too far away. If he stretched his pinkie finger now, he could find out if that hand that had built this railing was rough or soft, cold or warm, a little of both perhaps.

All those flutters of his heart had taken his sanity from him, apparently.

“Hanguang-Jun isn’t easy to read, and I don’t assume many people aside from you and Clan Leader Jiang can, but I hope when you remember how happy it made all people at Lotus Pier to have him around, you can rest assured that we’ll look out for him. Oh, I’ll write to you when he eats a steamed bun I made, would that be alright with you?”

Lan Xichen smiled, tapped at the smooth railing and looked into the sky after his fluttering heart, soaring in the sky among that flock of swallows between the clouds. He nodded.

“Do keep me posted,” he told the lakes. “I look forward to correspondence from Clan Leader Jiang’s second in command.”

“Then I’ll –”

Loud trampling sounds, as if a horde of cows had burst onto the piers, made them both turn. Three children ran towards them, two pushing and pulling each other in their attempts to be first, the one behind them laughing, attempting to walk as fast as possible.

“Young Masters, slow down!” Yu Mengwan blocked the children’s way and crouched in front of them, arms outstretched so that they couldn’t make it past them.

Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi nearly toppled over each other. Behind them, Lan Sizhui stopped as well and bashfully looked at his feet, as if Lan Xichen would scold him for running now.

“Yu Mengwan!” Jin Ling put his hands on his hips. “You are slacking off again, I will tell Uncle!”

“But what if I tell him first that you’re running on the pier, hm?” Yu Mengwan also put his hands on his hips, while Jin Ling seemed to ponder the consequences carefully.

Lan Jingyi looked ready to smack him over the head, looked up at Lan Xichen, then at Lan Sizhui, and then decided to also look bashfully at the pier. “We won’t do it again, Zewu-Jun. Please don’t tell Hanguang-Jun.”

“We were practicing,” Lan Sizhui said. “By jumping over the gaps between the planks.”

“When Uncle and Hanguang-Uncle come back, I want to fly to greet them,” Jin Ling exclaimed with such determination, Lan Xichen chuckled softly.

“Then we’ll practice together,” Yu Mengwan said to the cheers of the children. Jin Ling was jumping at him suddenly, wanting to be carried on his back. Lan Jingyi stumbled after, pulling at Yu Mengwan’s other arm and at Jin Ling at the same time, until no one could have guessed if he wanted to pull Jin Ling away or climb on Yu Mengwan’s back as well. “Slow down, I can’t carry all of you!”

“I can carry one of you,” Lan Xichen said.

“Oho!” Yu Mengwan grinned up at him with that teasing smirk that could have disarmed an army, then turned to the children. “Who of you is brave enough to ask Clan Leader Lan, Zewu-Jun, infamous member of the Venerated Triad, for a ride, hm?”

Jin Ling used Yu Mengwan’s robe to hide, Lan Jingyi froze as if time had stopped for him, and Lan Sizhui stepped forward, soft smile on his face. He reached for Lan Xichen.

“I am,” Lan Sizhui said, holding out his hands as the other children gasped. “Carry me, Zewu-Jun?”

Lan Xichen smiled back, that group of people too happy not to. He let Lan Sizhui climb on his back, while Yu Mengwan heaved two children on his shoulders. For a moment, he swayed as if he was crumbling under the weight, and Lan Xichen reached out to steady him, right before Yu Mengwan caught his balance dramatically. Jin Ling laughed as if it was an old joke between them. Even if it wasn’t necessary, apparently, Lan Xichen kept his hand close to Yu Mengwan’s back in case any would fall, stumble, even sway again.

“Hold on, Young Masters,” Yu Mengwan said and started to speed up, away from Lan Xichen’s hand. He had to walk faster to keep close. Up. “Let’s see if we can win a race against Zewu-Jun and A-Yuan, hm?” He grinned at Lan Xichen, only a heartbeat for a silent question, and dashed ahead like an arrow shot from a bow. The children yelled and cheered him on, and Lan Xichen ran after all that noise, Lan Sizhui clutching at his neck much like Lan Wangji had as a child, the only difference the bubbling laughter hitting his neck.

At Lotus Pier, running wasn’t forbidden, and surrounded by such laughter, it was quite fun. Lan Xichen caught up after a few steps, the pier just large enough to run next to each other, so there was no need to race ahead. Indulge himself once, feel an elbow brushing his, and letting a laugh escape into the symphony of shouts and cheers.

a completely self-indulgent portrait sketch of Lan Xichen and Yu Mengwan, Jiang Cheng’s second in command from Silence Withered in Spring by @limitbreaker23

#sobbing crying screaming #it's my oc!!!#he lives!#and he's so handsome of course lxc must steal a look #I love that you gave him his little smirk-smile #and blushy face #he was overwhelmed in that scene #lxc trying to hide a chuckle behind his sleeve looks so adorable #his hair piece is also gorgeous and delicate and so beautiful #massive disclaimer is that yu mengwan wouldn't leave lotus pier for anything or anyone #jiang cheng never made him sic despite him being quite suited for it because he was betting on him going home again #everyone left jiang cheng after all #bless yu mengwan for being a career driven loyal dude🤣#he will always be sic in all my post-seclusion fics #30 years later jc looks at him bringing correspondence in and asks “still here hm?” ymw replies “huh?” and lwj shakes his head at them #I do have too long backstories for all ocs even if they only appear for one paragraph and I love recycling them #you can find all of them walking past all the time unnamed in other fics #fun fact for that is that I actually am very fond of lxc and lady yao but that is a different story #nobody asked limit #ramblings #lan xichen #yu mengwan #wedding shenanigans #juniors for good measures #sometimes people asked why lan jingyi wasn't there for the wedding but of course he is #he came with his parents and is having a fun time crying over lwj in red and trying to run when zewu jun isn't looking #(he might've stolen chicken from the kitchen)

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crystallinestars · 1 year ago

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How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Part 2 here.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaveh x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wriothesley x reader #For some reason Lyney's part is the longest

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