🀥 ㅤIF YOU DIED IN THEIR ARMS ⋆ ㅤㅤㅤvarious! genshin men
PREMISE ⋆ In which they find you gravely wounded, your body already giving in by the time they reach you. As they desperately try to keep you conscious and stop the bleeding with whatever little they have, the terrifying realization slowly sets in that you're slipping away in their arms.
· · ─ STARRING ⋆ Lohen, Kinich, Lyney
WARNING ⋆ death, blood, descriptions of injuries, heavy bleeding, emotional distress, themes of loss, hurt, no comfort, angst, life-threatening wound, crying, attempts to save a loved one.
NOTE ⋆ i fear the favoritism is a bit obvious here... a little angsty headcanon for the angst enjoyers! should i make a part two or a continuation where you're okay and well? ( •̀ - • ) if you feel like you've read this before yes, this is a reupload since my previous account had some trouble with the posts!
── ( 𝒍. ) lohen would refuse to let panic control him, but watching you writhe in pain would crack the composure he spent years building. He'd immediately drop to his knees, carefully pulling you against his chest while trying to keep pressure on the wound, all the while searching your injuries with desperate eyes for anything he could still do.
Every cry that escaped you would make his jaw clench tighter, his voice remaining firm only because he knew you needed something steady to hold onto.
The moment your struggling suddenly ceased and your body went frighteningly limp against him, his heart would sink. He'd lift your face with bloodstained hands, calling your name more urgently than before, gently patting your cheek whenever your eyes threatened to close.
Your cries gradually dissolved into strained uneven breaths, your trembling fingers weakly clutching at the fabric over Lohen’s chest as though it were the only thing keeping you grounded. The grip lasted only a few moments before your strength slowly gave way, your head beginning to slip.
Lohen immediately tightened the arm supporting your back, drawing you more securely against his chest while his other hand remained firmly pressed over your wound, refusing to ease the pressure for even a moment despite the blood steadily soaking through his glove.
“Hey… hey, look at me.” His voice cracked despite every effort to steady it as he searched your face, desperately willing your eyes to stay on his. “It’ll be okay, everything’s going to be okay. Just𑁋 just stay with me, alright?” He pleaded, “you’re going to yell at me later for worrying this much and you’ll be perfectly fine, so don’t you dare leave before you get the chance.”
“Lohen…” Your breathing quivered as you slowly lifted your eyes to meet his, though they struggled to remain focused. Seeing the light in them slowly begin to fade, Lohen leaned forward until his forehead rested gently against yours, his eyes squeezing shut for the briefest moment as though the closeness alone could somehow keep you from slipping away.
“No… no no no.” His breathing became increasingly uneven, his composure finally beginning to fracture as panic crept unmistakably into his voice. “No, please…” His hold around you tightened ever so slightly, “...don’t make this the last time I get to hold you.”
── ( 𝒌. ) kinich's first instinct would be to stabilize you, his movements swift and deliberate despite the chaos around him. He'd support your back against his chest to keep unnecessary movement to a minimum while applying pressure to the injury with practiced precision. The louder your cries became, the quieter his own voice would grow, speaking in short, steady sentences meant to keep you grounded.
Ajaw hovered anxiously at Kinich’s shoulder. “Hey, human… quit lying there and get up already𑁋!”
You let out one last strained gasp before the fight slowly left your body, your muscles relaxing heavily against him in a way that made Kinich’s heart sink. “No,” he breathed, the word escaping before he could stop it. One hand immediately rose to steady your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he gently turned your gaze toward him, refusing to let your eyes drift.
“Stay with me.” His voice remained low, but the urgency beneath it was impossible to miss. “Come on… keep looking at me.” His fingers tightened around your body, just enough for you to feel them, grounding you in the only way he still could while firmly pressing against your wound.
“That’s it.” He swallowed hard, his breathing growing noticeably uneven as your eyelids continued to drop. “Just… keep breathing. One more breath.” He searched your face desperately, as though willing you to answer him through nothing more than his own determination. For once, Ajaw didn’t have a sarcastic remark to make, his usual complaints swallowed by an uneasy silence as he watched Kinich desperately trying to keep you conscious.
“You once told me I’d always find my way back…” His voice falteredbarely above a whisper. “...Don’t make me learn how to do that without you.”
── ( 𝒍. ) lyney would spend the first several moments convincing both you and himself that everything would be alright, smiling through trembling hands as he desperately tried to comfort you while pressing desperately against the wound. The cheerful performer who always knew exactly what to say would disappear, replaced by someone desperately searching your face for any sign that you were still with him.
The world seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the two of you. He held you close, one arm wrapped securely around your back as though he could somehow shield you from everything that had already happened, his other hand resurfacing to leave your side despite the frantic tremor running through his fingers. He searched your face and over, desperately looking for reassurance in the smallest movement, as if any of them could convince him this would still end the way he wanted.
“Hey, stay with me okay?” His voice was quiet at first, almost impossibly gentle. “It’s alright… you’re alright.” He repeated the words almost instinctively, not because he knew they were true, but because saying anything else felt unthinkable.
His hand found your cheek, carefully brushing loose strands of hair away before cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasted painfully with the urgency in his eyes. Every few seconds his gaze darted toward the area around him, listening for footsteps that never seemed to come quickly enough before immediately returning to you. “People are coming,” he whispered, forcing a small smile that trembled at its edges. “Lynette will be here any second, we just have to wait a little longer.”
“It hurts…” You murmured, genuine panic flashed across his face. “I know,” he answered immediately, his words tumbling over one another. “I know, I know… just breathe for me, okay? That’s all you have to do.”
He leaned forward until his forehead rested lightly against yours, closing his eyes only long enough to steady the sharp, uneven rhythm of his own breathing.
“It’s okay… It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…” The phrase became less of a reassurance and more of desperation, something he clung to as though it alone could hold the moment together. Between repetition, he swallowed hard, trying to force the rising panic back down before it reached his voice.
Then he felt your weight change.
His eyes opened immediately, you had gone frighteningly still. “No…” The word escaped him, he searched your face in growing disbelief, gently brushing his thumb across your cheek as though you might respond to the familiar touch. “No… no, look at me.”
His breathing lost all rhythm, “please… don’t do this.” For a heartbreak he simply stared, unable to accept the silence that had settled between his words. Then his head snapped toward the area.
“Help!” The cry echoed far louder than he’d intended, “Someone, please𑁋!” His voice broke completely, cracking beneath the weight of terror. His voice barely resembled his own anymore.
When no immediate answer came, he looked back at you, pulling you closer until there was scarcely any distance left between you. His forehead rested against yours again, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to breathe through the panic threatening to overwhelm him. “I’m sorry…” His shoulders shook. “I’m so, so sorry…” The apology came out in little more than a whisper, a sob caught in his throat. “I was supposed to protect you.” His arms tightened around you, holding you as though refusing to let the world take you away.
come back and haunt me pt. II - i. e. genshin men missing you after your death
✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x kaveh, al-haitham, lyney (separate)
✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: how will they cope (or not) with losing you? what do they feel and think?
✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, angst, A LOT of angst, mentions of character death and self-destructive behavior/thoughts (especially in kaveh part)
✧ ─ ⌑ notes: i'm in a really angsty mood and the work is going smoothly so today i have the pleasure to present you the second part of this series! gosh, i feel like i tortured kaveh too much but idk man i actually love him, writing for him is always the easiest for me. i wish to torture my fave characters further so expect part III for sure ^^
link to my genshin impact masterlist: ☆
and link to the first part: ☆ (featuring dainsleif, xiao, childe)
✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 2.5k in total
kaveh
kaveh does not let you go quietly.
he tries. at first. tells himself he has survived worse — failure, ruin, debt, the slow erosion of dreams. tells himself he knows how to lose things. tells himself this is just another collapse he will learn to live inside.
his body disagrees.
grief hits him in waves so strong they make him physically sick. it starts with his chest — tight, constricting, like something is sitting on him, crushing the air from his lungs. breathing becomes work. his hands shake so badly he drops things, fingers refusing to obey. sometimes the pain settles behind his eyes, sharp and blinding, and he presses his palms there like he can hold himself together by force.
he throws up the first time he realizes you are truly gone.
his body bends over the sink and rejects the idea violently, like it cannot metabolize it. like grief is a toxin and he is failing to purge it fast enough.
he hates himself for that.
hates that it’s ugly. hates that it’s undignified. hates that even this — even his own body — he cannot control.
kaveh cries until his throat is raw.
he cries so hard it aches. sobs that wrench through him, that leave his ribs sore the next day. he cries into pillows, into his hands, into empty rooms that still feel like they’re shaped around you.
alone, he screams.
he screams until his voice breaks, until his body folds in on itself, until he’s curled on the floor with his nails digging into his arms just to feel something solid. he calls your name until it stops sounding like a word. until it becomes nothing but pain.there is nothing you can do to help him now.
that realization hurts almost as much as losing you.
because loving you taught him that pain could be shared, eased, softened. that there was always someone who would sit beside him, rub his back, tell him to breathe, and help him carry the weight.
now there is no one.
now there is only the echo of what used to be there.
what makes it worse is that the world does not stop.
people still talk. still laugh. still walk beside him like his heart isn’t splitting open with every step.
he tries to keep functioning. he goes out, meets friends. they drag him into conversations, into cafés, into places that smell like life continuing. he laughs too loudly at the wrong moments. drinks too much wine because the burn in the throat is easier to endure than the ache in his chest.
once, he shows them a project he somehow managed to finish. he is almost able to pretend. almost.
until someone says it — careless, unthinking, cruel without meaning to be.
yeah, it's a really great piece, y/n would have loved it.
it feels like being stabbed.
the sound of your name cuts straight through him, precise and merciless. the name lodges in his chest and detonates. he laughs first — a sharp, broken sound that doesn’t belong to him — and then the breath leaves his lungs all at once.
his vision blurs. his hands curl into fists so tight his nails bite into his palms, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.
he shakes his head, mutters something incoherent, and then he’s standing up too fast, chair scraping loudly against the floor. people stare. someone reaches for him. someone asks if he’s okay.
he isn’t.
tears spill over before he can stop them, hot and humiliating. his breathing stutters, chest hitching like it forgot how to work. he presses a hand to his mouth, but the sound escapes anyway — a strangled sob that makes the room go painfully quiet.
he apologizes between gasps. sorry, sorry, i just— like grief is something he’s doing wrong.
later, alone again, it’s worse.
he collapses against the wall, slides down to the floor, and cries until his throat burns. he hits the ground with his fist, once, twice, again, because the anger has nowhere else to go. he screams your name into the empty air and hates that it echoes back at him, because he doesn't want to hear it anymore.
everything reminds him of you.
arches you would have admired. light you would have chased. every unfinished project. every sketch left half-done. every ridiculous, hopeful idea that once made sense because you were there to believe in it with him. your absence makes the world feel structurally unsound, like a building missing a critical support.you were woven into everything, and now, every reminder feels like tearing something out of his chest again and again and again.
he hates himself for being alive.
for waking up every morning when you don’t.
for still thinking about buildings and designs and stupid, beautiful ideas when you’ll never see them.
he cannot stop replaying the last moments.
what he said. what he didn’t. how sure he was there would be more time.
he thinks about all the futures with you he designed in his head — carefully, lovingly, with rooms for love, warmth, laughter and shared mornings — and realizes they are all uninhabitable now.
kaveh takes your death personally, of course he does.
he tells himself this is his fault. that loving him was a burden, that he was too much for you. that if you hadn’t had to carry his dreams and concerns alongside your own, maybe you would still be here. maybe you would have lived longer.
he lives in the memories of you — choking on them, bleeding from them, screaming until there is nothing left in him but the echo of your name and the unbearable knowledge that there is nothing he can do to bring you back.
al-haitham
al-haitham understands death.
he understands it biologically, statistically, historically. he understands what happens to the body, what ceases, what remains. he has read enough to know that grief is a neurological response, that attachment alters cognition, that loss disrupts routine and perception.
when you die, he accepts it immediately. there is no denial. no bargaining. no frantic search for meaning. he listens to the facts, asks the necessary questions, commits the details to memory. cause. timing. circumstances. he does not need comfort. he does not raise his voice.
people mistake this for strength, or worse — indifference. they assume this means he did not love you deeply.
he does not correct them. there is no utility in doing so.
he tells himself that emotions are transient. that the mind adapts. that the brain, given time, will recalibrate to the absence of a stimulus.
you were a stimulus. therefore, you can be removed.
this logic holds for about six days.
on the seventh, he realizes his routines are malfunctioning.
he reaches for his book and pauses, distracted by the absence of your weight against his side. he prepares two cups of tea before noticing only one of you is still alive. he finds himself mentally composing arguments to thoughts you will never voice again.
the errors are small. persistent. irritating.
he tells himself this is normal.
he does not cry. crying is inefficient. he does not scream. screaming solves nothing. instead, his grief manifests as friction — between thought and feeling, logic and reality.
he cannot stop replaying conversations, not because he misses them, but because his mind insists on finding the moment where something could have been altered. a different choice. a different word. a variable adjusted.
there is none, and it bothers him more than it should.
he keeps your belongings exactly where they were. not out of sentimentality — he dislikes clutter — but because removing them would require acknowledging permanence, and he is not ready to formalize that conclusion.
he tells himself he will deal with it later. later does not come.
instead, you linger in negative space. in the silence between pages. in the chair across from him that remains unused. in the way his thoughts drift, unprompted, toward how you would have responded to something mundane.
he does not miss you in the way people expect. he misses your interference. the way you disrupted his solitude without exhausting him. the way you challenged him emotionally, not intellectually — something he never mastered how to respond to. the way you looked at him like he was more than a collection of habits and conclusions.
you used to comment on his habits. the way he read while eating. the way he forgot to sleep. the way he pretended not to listen while memorizing everything you said anyway. you would sit beside him, sometimes doing nothing at all, and he would allow it — a rare exception to his preference for solitude.
he never thanked you for that.
that is the thought that keeps resurfacing.
al-haitham does not romanticize the dead. he refuses to soften you into memory. he remembers you accurately — alive, flawed, occasionally irritating, deeply real. that makes it worse. because it means you are not an idea he can revisit at will. you were a presence. a constant input. and now the system has lost a critical function.
his sleep deteriorates. not from nightmares — his mind is not imaginative in that way — but from overanalysis. he lies awake cataloguing the changes in himself, detached enough to observe them, not detached enough to stop them.
he notices that his tolerance for inefficiency decreases. that he snaps more easily. that his patience — already limited — erodes further.
he recognizes this as grief.
he does not know what to do with that information.
people expect him to move on quickly. they expect rationality to shield him. they expect his composure to mean closure. they are wrong. acceptance would require him to concede that something irreplaceable existed in his life. something that cannot be replicated, substituted, or optimized.
this conflicts with everything he believes about the world.
so instead, he exists in suspension. he does not say he loved you. not because it isn’t true, but because saying it would force the sentence into the past tense. he avoids that grammatical finality with the same precision he avoids emotional exposure.
sometimes, he catches himself forming a thought meant for you and stops halfway through.
sometimes, he doesn’t stop. sometimes, he speaks it aloud, quietly, to an empty room, just to test whether hearing his own voice say it makes the absence easier to accept — it doesn’t.
he continues forward, efficient, composed, untouched on the surface — carrying a loss he understands perfectly in theory, and not at all in practice.
and sometimes, in moments of unguarded stillness, he wonders — with mild, unfamiliar bitterness — whether this is what people mean when they say intelligence does not protect you from grief.
only from showing it.
lyney
lyney knows how to smile through anything, that has always been his talent.
applause rises, lights warm his skin, the familiar rhythm of performance settles into his bones. he bows at the right moments, hits every cue, lets wonder bloom exactly where it’s meant to. to the audience, nothing has changed. he is still charming. still dazzling. still magic made human.
from the outside, nothing seems wrong.
but lyney knows the difference between performing for an audience and performing for you.
when you were alive, performing felt like sharing a secret. every trick, every flourish carried the quiet knowledge that you were out there somewhere — watching, smiling, seeing him, not the illusion. your eyes would find his instinctively, like a thread pulled tight between the stage and the dark.
now, the seats blur together, and the stage lights feel harsher.
he goes through the motions because that’s what he’s good at. because stopping would invite questions he has no intention of answering. because grief, to him, is not something to be shared.
he still performs flawlessly, but the joy has thinned. where excitement used to flutter in his chest, there is now a hollow patience. after performances, people congratulate him. they say he was wonderful. that he seemed radiant. that the magic felt especially real tonight. he thanks them politely.
they don’t know that the magic feels thinner now. that without you watching, every illusion collapses a little faster.
when he’s alone, the mask slips. not dramatically. not all at once.
he stays in dressing rooms long after everyone else has left, staring at his reflection with a neutrality that borders on exhaustion. makeup smudged. smile gone. the silence pressing in around him like a held breath.
he thinks about how you used to watch him prepare.
how you’d comment on the details — the gloves, the cards, the careful precision of his hands. how you’d tell him he looked confident even when he felt anything but.
you believed in him in a way that felt grounding. anchoring.
now, there is no one to confirm that he is still real when the curtain falls.
sometimes he sits on the edge of his bed, costume half-unbuttoned, and stares at his hands like they might explain something he missed. sometimes he presses his fingers into his palms just to feel something solid, something undeniably real.
he thinks of the way you used to watch him rehearse. how you would sit cross-legged on the floor, chin in your hands, offering commentary he pretended not to care about and secretly treasured. how you always noticed the small changes — a sleight done cleaner, a pause held longer. how you clapped even when no one else was there.
you were his favorite audience.
he does not allow himself to imagine you watching now.
that would be cruel.
he keeps your things tucked away, not hidden, just… set aside. like props from an old act he hasn’t decided whether to retire. touching them hurts too much. leaving them untouched feels worse.
sometimes, before a performance, he catches himself thinking, you would like this one.
the thought lands wrong. heavy. final.
because you will never see it.
the realization arrives fresh each time, sharp as a misdirected blade. no matter how many shows he performs, no matter how many nights he stands beneath the lights, there will never again be that familiar weight of being seen by the one person who mattered most.
he does not talk about you much. people assume he has moved on easily — he laughs, he jokes, he performs. he looks whole. grief, to them, should be obvious. loud. disruptive.
lyney has never grieved that way.
his grief waits until the door closes. until the lights go out. until there is no one left to impress. then, it slips through the cracks.
a quiet ache. a soft, relentless understanding that every performance now ends the same way — with applause fading into silence, and you not there to meet him afterward.
the show goes on. he still bows. still smiles. still lets the magic sparkle.
but somewhere deep inside, the part of him that performed for you has gone very still.
and no trick he knows can bring that back.
telling himself otherwise would have been simply a deception. and magic was never about deception to him.
it was about sharing wonder. about being seen.
and now, he is left only with the unbearable certainty that the one person he wanted to amaze the most will never watch him again.
⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 27.12.2025. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝
Can you do husband lyney headcanons maybe? would love u forever and ever if you did
A/n: Am I loved forever now?? Gn! reader.
Warnings: Slightly toxic dynamic with Lyney that gets healthier over time. Please let me know if I need to add anything else!
Your relationship didn’t start out healthy at all. Between the lies and omissions, it really wasn’t all that picture perfect. He felt terrible for it, of course. He was many things, but one of the most integral parts of him was that he was a Fatuus. Raised in the House of the Hearth, selected by The Knave to potentially be her successor…he didn’t tell you all of that. He convinced himself that he’d find a way to ease you into it, that he would tell you when he thought you were ready.
He wanted the connection. He wanted the feeling of loving someone, someone looking at him with such adoration, such love. He wanted that fabled feeling of companionship. It was always a curiosity to him, how romantic partnerships worked. He was selfish. He wanted it, but he knew that he couldn’t offer his absolute best to anyone.
The Knave found out. There isn’t much she didn’t find out about. She was quite proud of how well Lyney hid it though, yet another sign that she had made the correct decision in choosing him as a potential successor. She gave him an ultimatum, tell you himself or she’ll do it for him.
She didn’t approve of your relationship. You simply weren’t compatible. He was a member of the Fatui. You were not. No matter what Lyney may promise you, what assurances he says he can provide, it will always be a lie. Whether he means it as one or not. This was not fair to you. She was incredibly blatant about her disapproval, both to you and to Lyney.
Over time, your relationship became a lot better. You were able to be honest with one another. Together, you learned what a healthy relationship can look and feel like. It took a while, but you eventually got there. Getting to the point that you felt comfortable with marriage would most likely be a long process, multiple years of dating. You decided he was worth it though.
You went right to Arlecchino. You asked for Lyney’s hand in marriage straight out. He and Lynette had taught you how to be stealthier. You also had made friends with enough of the House of the Hearth to let you in more easily. She was, in all honesty, quite impressed. You were, however, rejected.
You went to Lyney. Who needs the Knave’s approval anyway? Getting a Father’s approval was an outdated tradition anyway! You planned an incredibly romantic proposal! And…he said no! You got rejected by Father AND son! Arlecchino tattled, warning Lyney of the proposal.
You were horrified and humiliated. You thought everything was going so well! You two had talked previously about marriage, it wasn’t something you had sprung upon him! He talked about it favorably; he made mutual plans with you about your future! Why had he rejected you?
He needed to do some serious soul searching. His reason for rejecting you was the very same reason the Knave had warned you about. Lyney was worried about his future. Was he destined to follow in Father’s path to become the next head of the House? Did he want that for himself? He didn’t know if he wanted that, but didn’t he owe it to the Fatui for taking him in? To Father? He didn’t really want that path, more felt compelled to. He knew for sure he wanted you in his life though, as selfish as he felt it was.
You snuck into the House of the Hearth to confront him, continuing to impress Arlecchino. You were in too deep. You loved and adored that man and you wanted him to see that he could be happy with you! You warned him, however, that this was his last chance. You didn’t deserve to be left waiting in the wings for him to decide what he actually wanted.
It was at that moment that Lyney decided that he could do both. He loved you wholly and deeply, he knew this as a fact. And he also knew that he wanted the children of the House to grow up in a safe environment. He could absolutely do both. No more hiding, no more guessing.
You didn’t get married immediately after that. You two had a long engagement. He always wore his engagement ring. Getting rejected was difficult for you, even if it had been resolved in the end. You two took a lovely trip to Inazuma, a recommendation by the Traveler, to visit a famed yokai by the name of Mizuki. A wonderful therapist! She did wonders for the two of you.
Your wedding was kept small. Only the members of the House of the Hearth and your family and friends were invited. Arlecchino was able to officiate. She wouldn’t say, but she had gotten legally ordained for this moment. Both you and her knew that her rejections of you were not personal. She had even revealed that you held a great deal of respect for you. She simply knew that being the spouse of a Fatuus would likely be a burden upon you.
Your honeymoon was in Mondstadt. He had heard that a group of mages often met there. His magic tricks were mostly illusions, tricks of the mind. However, he did find himself fascinated by what true magic could accomplish. It was a fascination that you and he shared. Plus, Mondstadt was a beautiful place in general, a good place for a honeymoon.
He wears his wedding ring on a necklace chain. The chain is always tucked into his shirt, never allowed to be visible. It’s kept close to his heart that way. His hands are used to trick and to deceive, he decided very quickly that such a sentimental item had no place being kept on his hands.
Your favorite flowers are reserved only for you. He doesn’t use them for his shows. Only when he’s practicing with you does he use them for his tricks.
Speaking of, as his spouse one of your marital duties is helping him practice his tricks. Yes, this was actually in your wedding vows. You were already quite happy to do so before your marriage, but he insisted upon it.
After your marriage, he actually made the decision to move out of the House. You two got a place close by so he wouldn’t be too far away from his family. He felt it was important to be able to build a home with you rather than having you come in to live with his family. It was always a goal of his anyway, to move in with you.
You live and work closely with his family. Gossiping with Lynette is one of your favorite aspects of this. That and she is a huge tattle tale. “Lyney didn’t eat today!” or “Lyney wore his shirt inside out! How embarrassing!”
If you didn’t know self-defense before, you certainly will now. You have the best teachers! Your husband is gentle and teasing, he also has the best rewards and incentives! Your in laws? They are a lot rougher with you, much to your beloved husband’s displeasure. If he finds out one of his siblings had caused a scratch or a bruise, he will absolutely kiss it better and try and chew them out.
He insists that you do his stage makeup for good luck. He regrets that he didn’t convince you to put that in your wedding vows too. He enjoys the feeling of your hands on his face. Lynette isn’t so fond of this process though. He often starts to get affectionate with you, slowing down the process. Plus, she wants to gag when he acts like a neglected cat when your hands aren’t on him for more than a second.
The twins now have separate dressing rooms because of this.
He likes when you wipe off his makeup at the end of the day too. He hums to you as you do it, a lullaby he happens to sing to the children of the house.
He sometimes tries to convince you to wear similar stage makeup to him. Just because. He drew a heart on your cheek one time, as a joke, but got all flustered seeing you with it. He’ll let you choose whichever symbol you may want, but he’s particularly fond of the heart.
Bully himmmmm. He loves it! Banter was something that he found attractive in your relationship, this carried on to your marriage as well. He loves it when you’re a bit mean to him, the little freak. He likes when you snap at his garters.
Thank you for reading and requesting! Sorry it took so long to post recently, I had a week off and had a lot of stuff to catch up on haha
Genshin Angst Headcanons - Why the two of you broke up
Note: Had an unexpected free day! I haven't written in a while, please excuse the mistakes, if any.
Disclaimer at the end of the post
Warning: Some are pretty predictable. Each of them have their own issues, lore wise, so some are lore heavy. You might not agree with some of them, but its how I see it, so to each their own. Let me know what you think! Some are quite angsty. Some scenes it's you breaking up with him and some are vice versa. Didn't feel like writing Razor, Venti and Xingqiu.
Personal Favourites in this work: Lyney, Itto, Kazuha
Aether
Sister issues. Enough said.
He realized he didn't have enough time to spare romancing with someone.
Somewhere along the way he felt guilt that he was enjoying his time with you while his sister went through some sort of villain origin story that seemingly turned her bad.
Top off all the adventuring, searching, solving problems for other people that he did...Where did that leave you, exactly?
"...I'm sorry, Y/N... I just... I don't think this is the right time for me to be together with you,"
Albedo
Contrary to popular belief it wouldn't be his lack of time or extreme focus on his alchemical experiments that would break the two of you up. He knows how to manage his time.
It was the RESULTS of experiments and his research that would put him away from you.
The possibility that HE or his world, was way too dangerous for you.
How many "Albedos" did Rhinedottir really create? Was there more than three? Perhaps four, five? And what happens when you come face to face with another Albedo?
"I'm afraid...There are far too many dangers surrounding myself... There are answers that I can't find...and perhaps that's the reason why my answer is to part ways with you,"
Alhaitham
Too much of a nonchalant attitude.
He expressed some kind of interest in you...but it's like... once in a blue moon. 95% of the time you're not sure if he's really into you. It almost seems like he's more into that book he reads all the time.
Simply just not good at expressing himself. Like, at all. Hides behind a "whatever works" and "I don't care about what other people think of me" attitude, unfortunately that seems to include you.
Is so straightforward that sometimes it hurts, but he's really just telling the truth through logical analysis.
will act like the breakup didn't hurt nor affect him at all. In turn it hurts you instead.
"I see. So you've had enough of me... And you only spoke up now? Pointing it out earlier could've diverted us from this path...If that's how you feel already I suggest that we stop seeing each other,"
"That's it? You're not even going to try and work it out with me?"
"What's there to work out? You've made yourself clear. You're not satisfied with the way I treat you, and I'm afraid I'm not going to change the way I act just for your pleasure... It'd be more meaningful for you to find someone who fits your criterias,"
Ayato
entering a relationship with a noble was not as easy as one thought.
It's not just about being together forever and feeling lucky because Ayato is rich and your whole life is set, it's also the not fitting in, the etiquette, the whispers from townfolk that you were too ordinary for him, the work that you needed to do if you were to become his wife.
All that was not really a big problem for you, but Ayato seemed not to know of your struggles, he was extremely busy, and when he wasn't, he seemed to think that everything was well and fine, since you were getting all your basic needs met and even more.
"...So I'm sorry, Ayato. This is just... All too much for me. I'm sorry,"
"...I understand. Forgive me, it seems that I've overlooked a lot of things...Perhaps it is as you say, that it'd be better for us to grow apart rather than grow together,"
Baizhu
because he is a ticking time bomb, no matter which way he looked it's not going to end well for both of you.
He either dies early or lives forever. In both scenarios he anticipates that the two of you are just going to be in a world of hurt.
Besides, he didn't mean to get so attached to someone in the first place, he knew his quest for immortality was long and arduous. You didn't deserve to walk that difficult road too.
While breaking up, will conceal the fact that he's only thinking of you and will possibly hurt you in the process.
"I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I ask that you continue going forward without me, there's no space for you in my... ideal future,"
Bennett
We all know it...it's his bad luck. However, it wasn't YOU who had a problem with it, it was HIM.
You understood that his bad luck was just some extended part of him, plus it's not like it was always bad, there were a lot of good times too. Plenty!
But the guilt ate him up whenever the two of you were stuck in a seemingly impossible scenario and predicament, brought on by his luck. He just had enough of it one day.
"I...I can't keep doing this to you every day! It's not fair..."
will be on the brink of tears before he even starts.
"Maybe it's better if you find someone else to adventure with, Y/N, sorry...!"
runs away before you can even get a word in.
Chongyun
Thinks he's not good enough in every aspect. It's really, seriously not about you. He thinks he's lacking in everything. Strength, maturity, experience, confidence.
So badly wants to stay with you but feels like he's not good enough and thinks that you're better off with someone else.
"D-Don't misunderstand... It's not because I don't like you anymore... I just...Please find someone else!"
Cyno
his bad jokes and TCG addiction. just kidding, you're not that shallow.
A lot of people are intimidated by him being the General Mahamatra because he gives importance to justice. While you, who had seen a bit more of him than other people had, it seemed more of an obsession to uphold the Akademiya's law and integrity.
This was not a big problem to you, you liked how he was serious at work.
Until one day when you were accused of plagiarising one of your papers and Cyno was the one sent to give you a first offense warning. The Akademiya knew of your relationship, that's probably why they sent him, to make it harder on the two of you.
Cyno didn't listen to your explanations on how it was an honest mistake, he still gave you the warning that you "deserved"
From then on it had just been different between the two of you, so it was really a mutual breakup. Or so you thought.
"...After that, I just realized that maybe this isn't the right time for us... We're both working for the Akademiya, we both take our jobs seriously...Unfortunately that seems to just be getting in the way of us...I think it's best if we stop seeing each other,"
"...I see." he pauses for a minute, as if tossing your words in his mind. "I...agree. Parting ways would certainly make work easier for both of us...it's the professional thing to do,"
Dainsleif
Has not moved on from his past.
Sure, everyone has their own baggage to carry, their own history to live through...but Dainsleif has heavier things than that. He seemed to wake up every day thinking of Khaenri'ah and the days long past. Was it regret? Nostalgia? Loneliness? You didn't know. You just knew that he wasn't really completely THERE with you in the present. Part of him still lived in the past.
When you explained that you felt like the two of you were not moving forward together and that it seemed like he wanted to go back to the past instead, he got offended.
"...My past is something that I carry forever, you'd claimed that you understood that," he starts.
"I do! But carrying it with you and letting it drag you backwards are two different things!"
He falters for a moment, only to leave you with his last words before turning away from you forever: "You will never understand, the weight that I carry,"
Diluc
is too guarded. You'd been friends for a long, long, long, long time before he decided he could let you in enough and be more intimate with you.
Even then everything was going at a snail's pace, though you were extremely patient with him.
The biggest problem with Diluc was that the two of you would progress one day, take a step forward, and then the next day it was like the two of you took two steps back.
Example: The two of you went out for a simple stargazing excursion late one night, it was nice and he had been incredibly affectionate. The next day he had trouble even meeting your gaze, and disappeared to do his work. It was also a little awkward during dinnertime. This scenario had happened more than once.
Hint: the closer he got to you the more afraid he became, thinking that he would one day lose you too.
"I...I can't. I love you but I...I've waited far too long. I'm sorry. I'm tired of this endless chase for you!"
He couldn't even say a thing. He'd wanted to ask you to stay, to wait for him a little longer, but he already knew how incredibly selfish that would have been. Instead, he grimaced, and looked away from your gaze, trying to find something worthwhile to say. There was only silence for a few moments.
"Goodbye Diluc," that's when you turned away.
Gorou
worships Kokomi too much and your insecurities just kept circling around in your head.
You know its his job. You know he isn't like that but the problem was YOU and not him.
Simply said you let your insecurity eat up the relationship between the two of you.
You couldn't bring yourself to say that you were jealous of the way he admired Kokomi so you broke up with him with another reason in tow.
Unfortunately, you're not a very good liar face to face so you did a butthole move and actually broke up with him through a letter. You just couldn't face him and tell him why.
All you mentioned in the letter was that you needed time to think and be away from him, and told him not to worry because it was your problem, not his.
Poor Gorou reread that letter over and over, trying to understand what went wrong.
Heizou
is just a natural flirt. You're not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not and you're not sure if he's even aware he's like that.
Anyway you'd seen him getting overly friendly (just another word for flirting) with a few other people a couple of times. You didn't let it get to you the first, fourth or even eighth time but you realized that he KNOWS that you're watching him do that.
So you confront him about it, but he claims that it's just his way of gathering information from others. People like to hear good things and some people are more susceptible to flirtatious comments so he resorts to that for his investigation sometimes.
You didn't really completely buy it and even if you did, it's not like this was healthy for your relationship. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with it.
*You just chalked it up to the two of you being incompatible.
"I'm just not comfortable with that...I don't think I have to say sorry for how I feel but...I'm sorry anyway because I know you're just doing your job... It's probably best if we part ways here..."
"Is there any way to change your mind?" he genuinely asks.
You only give a lopsided smile. "You're a detective, I think you already know the answer to that,"
Yet he didn't stop you from walking away.
Itto
Kept breaking promises because he was too airheaded or too occupied doing something "stupid" with the kids or with his gang.
Pretty soon it just felt like you were an afterthought while everyone else in his life took precedent.
Got a ramen date? Oops, sorry! Got caught up looking for a strong onikabuto in the forest!
Needed his help to move some things? Gah, he was vandalising the bulletin boards, so he's running a bit late!
What's more you didn't actually mind that carefree, airheaded side of him...but it really got to you when he couldn't even seem to make you a priority. Not once.
He only realized that when he came running, late again, and stood face to face with a crying you.
"Hey sorry Y/N, I was just--...Why are you crying?!" is completely dumbfounded and clueless, mostly because when he came late, you had always shrugged it off with a smile on your face, or so he thought. This time you had a completely different reaction.
"I hate you...*hic* I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
Shocked beyond belief. It wasn't like you to just blow up like that, but he couldn't do anything except watch you turn and run away from him after that exclamation.
Kaeya
Sometimes you're not sure if he takes you seriously.
Recently, he's not where he says he is, you don't know why he doesn't just tell you where he is.
He said he'd be working late, but then you find out he's at Angel's Share.
He said he'll be at Angel's Share, but then you catch word from Jean that he's out on a late mission.
He said he's escorting a caravan to Mondstadt but he's actually on assignment in Liyue.
It came to the point where you altogether just stopped looking for him cause half of the time you couldn't find him. It's like he's avoiding you or something, which, actually, seems just about right since he's been so busy with "work"
It reached a breaking point when, for a week, you were unable to bring him the lunch you prepared...because he was not where he said he was going to be. It was starting to get annoying.
"I don't understand why you're lying to me! Why do you have to tell me you'll be at Angel's Share this afternoon when you're not? Do you realize you make me walk all the way there only to come all the way back with nothing achieved?"
"I'm sorry snowflake, that wasn't my intention," though he still chuckles despite knowing full well that you were about to turn away.
"You know what, let me know when you're ready to stop making jokes. Until then, don't bother contacting me,"
He just didn't expect you to actually walk away from him.
Kaveh
Entertains everyone and anyone. Naturally kind at heart, will stop for anyone in trouble...even that flirtatious man/woman who is clearly just pining for his attention.
No he doesn't quite realize this.
The same person had asked for his help at least 4 times now and all 4 times he had been happy to offer a helping hand.
The last straw was when he was invited into the stranger's house, they had apparently needed someone to help them move and re-arrange furniture and he did, working till almost dinner time.
You'd caught him right by the person's door, because Kaveh was actually honest and told you he'd be helping them today, but the person was clearly eyeing Kaveh rather flirtatiously.
"Come again next time," you heard the person say rather happily. Kaveh only replies with "If I have nothing else to do, I suppose,"
"Kaveh, they're coming onto you and you keep letting it happen!"
"I'm not certain what you're talking about...They just needed some help around their house, nothing suspicious happened at all. Even if there was, I won't let anything happen between me and a stranger!"
"Then STOP helping them!"
"There isn't anything wrong with lending a hand...It was a quick move of things, that's all,"
"How would YOU feel if I just went into someone's house and kept helping them "move" things?"
"...I would think that's nice of you,"
You actually threw your hands up. "Oh, forget it! You know what, for someone who LOVES helping others, you're not doing such a great job of helping ME," then walked away and never came back. "Good riddance,"
Kazuha
He's a wandering samurai. You knew what you were getting into but you didn't expect dating him to be so hard.
He was gone for weeks on end, and you were not getting on that boat with him. In essence the two of you were just not ready to follow each other to the end's of the Earth, and that was fair. The two of you were young.
Kazuha kind of saw it coming, whenever he visited you, you seemed less spirited and he had an inkling as to why. The time apart was just too much for you.
It was a rather clean break actually. A real mutual breakup that the two of you agreed on.
"...You could say it's just not the right time for us," you even managed to laugh under your breath and he did the same, though it was barely audible.
"...Mm. There are matters that you need to attend to here...and there are things that I need to do out there," he slowly stood up from his sitting position next to you and still gazed at you rather lovingly. "...Perhaps, in another world, you and I are bound together,"
You gazed back forlornly, "...Just not in this one, it looks like,"
Lyney
because he will always choose his siblings over you. Always.
Though that's not a bad thing because you also think that family is important...somewhere along the way you realized that family is the ONLY thing he had and saw.
Example: Lynette and you had gotten ill at the same time one winter morning. Perhaps it was the cold that was passing around Fontaine. Lyney had been so worried about Lynette, that he seemed to have forgotten about you for the next few days. In fact, Lyney didn't even realize that you caught the cold too. You had only heard from Freminet, who you happened to cross paths with, that Lynette was also ill.
You thought that incident was the end of it, but really it seemed that whenever Lyney wanted to hang out with you, Lynette had to be there too. You tried to understand...after all there's still that mystery of disappearing women in Fontaine.
The breakup was induced when Lyney completely forgot about your birthday, because Freminet's was around the same time as yours. You helped Lyney prepare everything for Freminet, and said nothing about your own.
You realized that there was nothing wrong with choosing family over everything else...but the problem here was that Lyney didn't even have space for you in the first place.
So you left without saying anything. You figured he'd get over it quick. You had even gone so far as to move away from the main city of Fontaine and out into another island, because what would you say if he found you? That you were jealous of his siblings? You weren't going to ruin a family like that and it wasn't right to make him choose...so you just left without a word.
Neuvillette
Had a whole brainrot for this man:
Part 1
Part 2
Scaramouche
surprisingly it's not his anger issues.
It's the way he wouldn't acknowledge your relationship. You wonder how you even got into one with him.
There's no public show of affection, but even behind closed doors it rarely happened.
You knew that he was going to be like that, and so you didn't mind it all that much.
It was getting a bit much though when, out in public, he would walk further in front of you and refused to walk next to you. When he pretended like he didn't even know you. When he didn't stop to help you even when another man had shown interest in you, bordering on uncomfortable.
The more time passed the more you simply felt unloved...but for some reason you still blamed yourself.
"...I...don't know. Maybe you find me undesirable, or just...unappealing. Maybe you're embarrassed of me or...or..." maybe you just didn't care in the first place, you thought to yourself.
There was a long silence. Of you turning your gaze away, of him still piercing into yours. And then...
"Tsk...don't waste my time...Leave if you want to leave, door's open,"
Tartaglia
This one is simple. It's his obsession for fighting plus his complete disregard for himself. It's a constant heart attack for you. At some point the anxiety is just too much for you to handle.
Imagine living every day just wondering if he's safe at the same time knowing that he just loves to look for trouble.
The foul legacy that you know of, he uses it with disregard as well, despite knowing that it wasn't good for him.
And there are even days where you know he was heavily wounded but didn't go to you, in an attempt to shield you from worry.
It's a constant battle trying to stay sane and unworried, until one day it all just becomes too much.
"...Nothing I say will change anything, Tartaglia. This is who you are...This is who you need to be..." you whisper while bandaging his knuckles. He lets out a short hum.
It was silent all up until you finished with his hand, you squeeze it gently. "...I love you but...I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm tired...more so than I have ever been before,"
He lets your hand slip away from his knuckles, and that was the last he saw of you.
Thoma
This one is also simple. He was always taking care of others and running errands for others that he sometimes just couldn't catch a break.
Just a classic case of not enough time for you since he had a job to do for the Kamisato Clan.
He knows it, and feels awful about it. So he's the one who makes the move.
"It hurts that I can't give you what you deserve, Y/N. This isn't it... You deserve more than this but I can't give you that and I'm sorry. Please look for the love that you deserve,"
Tighnari
Remembers everything. Can be critical of things you've done, specially if he thinks there's a better way to do it.
Simply said you just feel stupid in front of him sometimes.
He doesn't mean to, but he sometimes forgets to appreciate or give praise to the things that you do well and even if he does, it tends to be short lived compared to his constructive criticisms.
Pretty soon you felt like he only looks at the bad things you do, and never the good. Though he was really only trying to teach and guide you as an equal.
He in fact feels that you are one of the few people who can keep up educational conversations with him.
The problem is he kind of forgets that you're his lover, and that you would enjoy his praise and affection from time to time.
"Do you... Do you ever have anything nice to say other than 'good work' or 'great observation'?" the words were out of your mouth before you could hold yourself back. Sometimes it was tiring to feel like you weren't good enough.
There's a flash of surprise that crosses Tighnari's expression for a split second, before he recovers. "...Had I not been praising your work enough lately? My apologies... It has a lot of merits, I just thought that you wanted my opinion on how to make it better,"
You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again right after to ponder on his words. Somehow even that had managed to make you feel embarrassed. It was here you knew that the problem also lied within yourself.
"...Sorry, Tighnari...I think I'll need some time alone,"
He obliges quickly and asks. "That's reasonable. When would you like me to come back?"
"...Let me rephrase that... I need some time away. From us."
Xiao
Unfortunately there's a lot of things wrong here... his lack of affection. His aloof personality. His dedication to his yaksha duties. Despite that he does actually try to be gentlemanly or respectful of you.
The worst of it is that he didn't know how to be in a relationship, in other words he just wasn't ready for one, or perhaps he would never be ready for one.
He didn't understand that humans craved companionship and sometimes touch. He didn't understand that meant having to favour you over others, sometimes even putting you first over his yaksha duties.
Worst of it all was when he shut himself off from you, sometimes for days on end, when his karmic debt was too high. He only really did it to protect you, but never realized how isolated that made you feel.
When you confronted him about it, he felt attacked. Hiding away was the only way he knew how to cope...why couldn't you understand that?
"Let me help you, Xiao,"
"I don't need your help!" his tone would make you wince and just like that he disappears into a billow of smoke.
You never returned to Wangshu Inn after that. If he couldn't let you in, there was no use trying to knock on his heart. Xiao being Xiao, never sought you ought again either.
Zhongli
He had experienced so many things and you had listened to many a tales from him.
This is what caused you to realize that you hadn't even experienced life at all, and yet here you were willing to tie yourself down to him.
It just didn't feel like it added up. Here he was with all this knowledge of the world and here you were who had never even stepped outside of Liyue. By no means were you stupid, but you felt that you could be better not only for him, but for yourself if you learned more.
There was just such a huge gap in life experiences, and though you never expected to get to his level (he was a God who had lived for a long time, you would never catch up to him) you at least wanted to see what was out there with your own eyes instead of through his stories.
He understood that wholeheartedly, and had no qualms in letting you go.
"You will always have a place with me, Y/N. No amount of lifetimes will change that,"
I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.
Consider supporting me to read some exclusive fics:
Ko-Fi
buymeacoffee
Here's the Masterlist
Disclaimer: Relationships will always have some sort of problem along the way, maybe big, maybe small but I just want to reiterate that breaking up is not always the solution. Communicating is very important. So to those of you who like taking fanfiction too seriously, let it be known that this is just a work of fiction. I don't actually suggest breaking up with someone as soon as there is the slight indication of a problem (Just saw someone commenting on a similar themed post for Haikyuu that this wouldn't happen in the real world if both parties were mature... I mean, sure, but, idk, you must be fun in parties... it's called fiction for a reason...)
contents. archon quest spoilers, reader finds out lyney is from the house of the hearth—and all the drama + betrayal that comes from that </3 so big rip </3 but it has a hopeful ending tho !!
lyney has knocked on your door three times today—you haven’t opened up once. you can’t.
“please,” you can hear his muffled voice, “i just want to talk. will you let me explain?”
magicians must always make their audience believe in the impossible, he’s always told you with that sweet, alluring little smile on his face that makes you hang onto every word of his. he’s right, you think—magicians are simply those who have mastered the art of deception, and lyney is no exception. he’s deceiving you even now, with that broken voice as if he’s the one who’s hurt.
word spreads fast in fontaine—lyney, your sweet, romantic, devoted lyney, is of the house of the hearth. his trial mortifies you at first—but deep down, you know in your heart that lyney is no murderer. and then, in an instant, you’re not so sure anymore when somehow, within less than a day, lady furina is able to uncover more about your boyfriend than you have in months.
lyney is of the house of the hearth. he’s of the fatui.
“i’m sorry,” you hear a thud of his forehead resting against the door, “you’re mad, i know—but let me explain the—”
for the first time all day, you open the door. you’re not sure why—somehow, you need him to know you’re not just mad. you’ve been mad at lyney before, being mad is easy. being mad means he’ll pull a rose from behind your ear and make you smile against your will. being mad means you’ll realize you can’t stay mad at him for long, not when he looks at you like that. being mad is temporary—but this? this feels permanent.
you’re not mad at lyney. you simply can’t trust him anymore, and he needs to know that, needs to understand that he should stay away and never find you again.
you’re glaring at him, staring at the face that has always done nothing but make you smile. you wonder, for a small, doubtful moment, if every smile lyney has ever pulled from you has been built off of pure lies and half truths and withheld information.
you’ve given him every bit of yourself, told him everything there is to tell and then some, let him discover things himself that no one has yet to learn. and lyney, as you learn, is someone you can’t even begin to know, not really—maybe not ever.
“you’re with the fatui,” your voice is cold, but you know he can hear the waver—you hate him for that. for being able to pick you apart when you don’t know the first thing about him, “you’ve lied to me all this time—”
“i didn’t lie,” he says quickly, “i just…didn’t tell you everything—”
“that’s not any better,” you cut him off, finality in your voice that makes his eyes widen a fraction, “i have no business with someone of the—”
“wait,” his foot stops the door before it can close, stepping in despite your protests as he inches closer and closer. you take a step back every time—the hurt on his face is palpable. “can…can i explain? please?”
“explain what?” you furrow your eyebrows, “explain that you’re with the fatui? how is there any explaining that? how can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not bad—”
“i’m not,” he insists, “i’m not bad.”
lyney has never looked at you like that—like you’ve hurt him right where he’s most vulnerable, right where he’s weak and fragile and can’t bear to be hurt. you hate that you want to apologize for a moment, that you want to cradle his face and kiss the tremble off of his lips.
“then what are you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.
“i’m trying to save people,” he croaks, “our organization has a lot of people—a lot of goals. father and i want to—”
“your father has hurt people,” you cut him off.
“father saved me,” he says firmly, “and lynette. she gave us a home. and she wants to save the people of this nation—”
“she’s taken advantage of your weakness and—”
“she did what no one else would for me and my family.”
“then go,” you spit, “go to her and do her bidding. but i can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re with the fatui.”
“even as a member of the house, my decisions are my own,” his hand grabs yours—you can’t find it in yourself to pull it away. it’s familiar, warm—it’s lyney. your lyney. “i’m doing what i believe is right. to break the prophecy.”
“i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you admit, tired, defeated, “or who you are, frankly. but i’m tired of lies, lyney.”
“then i’ll tell you the truth,” his voice trembles, “anything you ask.”
“i’m not sure that’ll help,” you say quietly.
and then his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as he pulls you close. you want to push him away. you want to melt into his arms. you want to tell him to leave. you want to ask him to always stay.
lyney is of the house of the hearth, the fatui. but he’s also your lyney—the one who brings you flowers and tucks them behind your ear, the one who does tricks for children and makes them smile, the one who gives his heart and soul for his family to keep them safe.
you don’t know if the two can coexist as one, but you know despite it all, you still love lyney, and you don’t know if you can stop. the thought is haunting.
“i’ve always done what i believe is right,” he promises, “i’ve never hurt someone innocent. you have to know that much.”
“lyney—”
“i love you,” his voice breaks, “i’ve always loved you as just lyney. i promise.”
“i’m scared of who you are when you’re not just lyney,” you whisper—and you suppose you’re also weak, because your hand slips into his hair, stroking through the strands so that if it’s the last time, maybe you can commit the feeling of him to memory.
you can feel his tears fall onto your skin, and you can feel his fingers grip your shirt as he clings onto you, onto the last bit of hope that you’re his—that he’s yours. your lyney, the one you’ve always known and loved.
“i’m always just lyney,” he promises, “no matter who i’m with.”
“i just…need time,” you sniffle, “to think.”
“okay,” he says quietly. you can feel his lip quiver against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, “i’ll wait. however long you need, i’ll wait. i love you.”
“i know, lyney,” you sigh, caving and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. you savor the feeling—just in case you’ll never feel it again.
maybe you can—maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe lyney has always been yours, the one you think you know. you don’t know, but you hope you’ll find out.
i would forgive him i can’t lie to you no amount of fatui crimes could outweigh how badly i need to kiss this little shrimp of mine
You had left for a commission a day ago. You weren't supposed to be gone long, maybe a few hours at most which is why when Kaveh woke up the morning after you left and you weren't in bed with him, he was extremely worried. He asked everyone he saw that day if they had seen you, and he even went out to where your commission was supposed to be to look for you but nothing. Not a single trace of you was left there, By the end of the day he was worried sick, and he was going around asking for the second time if they had seen you.
He had gotten Cyno to go out in the desert and look for you and he found you dead near the sight of where your commission had been. When Kaveh found this out he was in a state of shock. You? dead? his s/o? his strong s/o? there was no way, he wouldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. For a few months after your death Kaveh was just in complete denial and everyone was worried about him. Even his roommate Al-Haitham had tried talking to him about what had happened to you but every time he did Kaveh would just shake his head and deny it. "No, Y/n's not dead..." he would say, even if deep down he knew he was just saying this because he couldn't admit it. He knew you were gone, and he knew that denying it wasn't helping.
About a year after your death is when he started to come to terms with it. And it was the hardest thing he had ever done; He barely left the house and when he did, he didn't talk to anyone. He took about a year just keeping to himself and trying to cope and after that year he slowly started to become himself again. But even after that it always seemed like a piece of him was missing.
𝑻𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊
You had always been extremely sickly. It was something you had delt with since you were young and when you met Tighnari and ended up starting a relationship with him he wanted you to live a good healthy life. He would always try to make new medicines for you, but nothing seemed to work. Tighnari knew deep down that your sickness would be the thing to kill you, but he would've never admitted it.
One morning Tighnari woke up to the sound of you coughing and it was clear that you were having a hard time breathing. He immediately got to work trying to find something to give you to help but nothing worked. Tighnari desperately tried to save you but in the end, it was futile you ended up dying that afternoon. Tighnari was with you in your last moments. "Please hold on Y/n.." He begged as he held your hand tightly. As you took your final breaths Tighnari just broke down into tears.
Collei heard him crying in the room over and came into the room and she gasped when she saw the sight before her. Collei did her best to comfort Tighnari, but nothing could help right now. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but I need some time alone right now" He choked out. He spent the next few days locked up in his office just mourning. After about four days he knew that he had to return to work even if it was hard. When he returned to his duties, he pushed down all of his emotions and he just kept everything hidden from everyone. Whenever someone would ask him how he was doing and how he was coping he would just respond with. "I'm fine."
You were killed by a member of the fatui. You were out late one night, and you had run into the fatui on accident, and it didn't end well for you. The beloved s/o of the God of justice Furina, the people of Fontaine loved you just as much as they loved her and the whole nation of Fontaine was in mourning.
But it was nothing compared to Furina's mourning. You were the only one Furina trusted with her secret. The only one she confided in. You were everything to her and you were just gone? She was absolutely devasted and for months after your death she locked herself in her room. Refusing to come out and leaving all of the work to Neuvilette.
And she had no intention of leaving any time soon. She couldn't face her people like this. She couldn't put the act on right now she just couldn't. One morning she was looking out the window of her room and it was raining, and she had noticed that the water levels had indeed risen. She sighed and she knew she needed to return to her work. She did what she does best, and she forced herself to put on the act that she was okay and that she was coping well with your death. She forced herself to be strong and once again she forced herself to be a god.
𝑳𝒚𝒏𝒆𝒚
Lyney being involved with the fatui meant he was involved with some pretty dangerous people. However, he never thought that those people would end his beloved s/o's life. Lyney had some problems with a few of the people in the fatui and one of those people took it out on his s/o and one day when you were on a commission one of those people killed you. Lynette was actually the one that got the word that you had gotten killed, Lyney was away from Fontaine and when he got back, he expected to be greeted by his beloved s/o but he wasn't.
Instead, he was greeted by his sister Lynette who looked extremely worried. "What's wrong sister? Where's y/n?" He asked. Lynette frowned and looked at her brother. She told him that you had been killed and as soon as the words left her mouth Lyney gasped and covered his mouth. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, He wasn't even gone from Fontaine for long and you were fine before he left. You kissed him goodbye and told him that you'd see him when he gets home. You were alive a few days ago and now you were just gone? it was so much to process. He sat down and he stayed silent for a few moments with hundreds of thoughts running through his mind.
After a while he still realized Lynette was there waiting for him to say something. He nodded and spoke softly "Thank you for telling me..." He said getting up and walking to his room. He cried himself to sleep that night, the bed felt so empty without you next to him and he didn't get much sleep at all that night. Lyney tries to push forward and move on like normal since he knows he has a job to do, and he has to take care of his siblings. And while the people around him might think he's doing better he never fully gets over you.
𝑨𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐
Whenever you had commissions, she would always accompany you and today was supposed to be no different but as you two were about to set out Arlecchino got word that there was a situation she needed to tend to. You assured her that you'd be fine and Arlecchino nodded. She believed you would be fine, and she kissed you bye and she told you she'd meet up with you later. But when she met up with you later what she saw shocked her. She found you lying in a pool of your own blood. You had gotten hit pretty bad in the stomach. She ran over to you, and she scooped you up in her arms. "Dear? Dear what happened!" She said trying to shake you awake.
But she was too late, you were dead. She brought you back the House of the Hearth and there was a funeral held for you. She knew mourning was for the weak, but she couldn't help but give herself a few days. She gave herself a few days to mourn and a few days only. When the few days were up, she returned to her work even if it hurt and it was hard. She became a lot more ruthless, and the children of the House of the Hearth noticed their father becoming a lot colder and more distant.
𝑵𝒆𝒖𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆
You and Neuvillette had been married for years. You were his whole world and he loved you to pieces. However, one day you came down with an illness that was going around Fontaine and had already taken the lives of so many in Fontaine. Neuvillette knew better than anyone that you were strong, and he believed you could beat this. However, over the next few months you were just getting weaker and weaker and eventually it became clear that there was no way you were going to survive.
You had a peaceful death surrounded by your family, your friends and of course your beloved husband. Neuvillette didn't take your death well, he neglected his work duties for months and since you were close friends with Furina, Furina understood completely and gave Neuvillette as much time as he needed before he came back to work.
Eventually Neuvillette came back to work, but he kept to himself, he didn't talk much and completely shut himself off away from everyone. He never re married or found anyone else, he couldn't there was no way he could move on from you. You were his everything and he thought about you every day, wishing there was some way you could come back to him.
Memories of you are both cathartic and painful when he visits your grave.
ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Lyney, Neuvillette x gn! reader.
cw/genre: angst.
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
Autumn. The time of year that brought warm memories to the wandering samurai despite its chilly winds.
Shades of scarlet coated Inazuma’s grassy plains, like a rain constituted by droplets of dawn light when the maple leaves swayed to the ground.
And amidst this scene, you.
You, who danced to the tune of the foliage floating in the breeze; you, who snuggled his red scarf closer around your neck when he wrapped it around you, taking in his sweet cinnamon-like scent; you, whose hand used to fit perfectly in his, as you ran your thumb over the scarred skin under his bandages.
Kazuha finds himself staring at those now. He remembers all too well how you used to wrap them around his hand. Your lips brushed over every indentation in his burnt skin, overwriting storms with sunlight and blue skies.
“All healed now.” You sing-sang, the tenderness of your kiss over the wrapped scars.
It feels empty now, his grasp, still searching for you every morning, but you’re out of reach.
Even now, as the wandering poet’s head rests against you, he can’t quite feel your touch.
“Hello, my dove.” He begins, fingers brushing over the dendrobiums surrounding you. Moondust lashes kiss his cheeks when the sunsets in his stare cloud over, the image of your smiling face behind his lids. “It’s already autumn, remember how you called it our season, my angel?” He softly says, turning his head slightly, so that his forehead partially leans on you. “The leaves are turning red already, I’ve picked some for you.” Kazuha utters, as he gently threads them around the stone.
Hard. Cold. So unlike the warmth you radiated. He sighs, opening his eyes, tender hearths to warm your paralyzed heart.
“I’ve been writing too…” Dampness pools around his lashes. “Haikus, poems, because I know you love them, hummingbird…” The samurai’s voice cracks, vision blurry, as he traces the letters of the name he used to breathe in between kisses.
Your name. The only one that will forever echo through his sweetest dreams, double edged now.
Droplets of molten moonlight slide down Kazuha’s cheeks, colliding with the earth separating you from the world.
“We will meet again, my dove.” He vows, kneeling on the grass, moist by his tears. “In some corner of the next life. I promise, love.”
As he stands up, retracing his steps, the wind picks up.
Kazuha clutches his red scarf closer to him.
Your scent still lingers.
✧ XIAO
Spring had never felt so cold.
The sun over Liyue’s mountains is too dull; the glaze lilies appear closed off; the days feel too long.
The conqueror of demons makes his way through Guili Plains, his steps slow, as if that would keep away a cruel reality that’s set in stone.
He’s coming to meet you, and yet he’s never felt so far away from you.
In the few steps that separate the yaksha from you, an infinity of memories and bittersweet dreams seem to wash over him. They mingle with the scent of morning dew over qingxins bloomed anew.
Qingxin. What he used to call you.
“Xiaooo!” You cooed, a smile sweeter than the treat you offered him alight on your lips. “Dessert’s ready, love.” You called, offering him the plate of delicious almond tofu.
It was always his favorite, especially the one made by you.
His cheeks took on a tint not unlike the lipstick marks you left on him when you felt like teasing him, peppering his face with your honeyed kisses. You always used to chuckle at the sight.
“Qingxin…” his voice quivered, in awe, gaze of gold widened, sparkly. “There is no need for you to go through this trouble for me…”
“Nonsense!” You cut him off, hands cradling his cheeks. “I love making your favorite food for you, baby.”
Now he brings one of his own scarred hands to his face.
It’s so cold in comparison to your comforting warmth.
Yet even colder is the grey hue of the heavy stone that comes into view: the one marking the spot where you were laid to rest for good.
Slowly, resigned to the inevitability of reality, the vigilant yaksha reaches you.
Even though he knows he will no longer have you.
Xiao’s whole form trembles when he leaves the handmade butterfly over your gravestone. Its petal wings are all crooked, his grip vice-like in his anguish.
Now the flower-made insect will never fly again. A crystal bubble, lit up on his darkest nights, inside which dreams warm and sweet were recounted, as long as the adeptus stayed in your embrace; now shattered, only sharp fragments left to pierce his heart.
“I’m sorry…” is all the demon conqueror can manage as greeting, the moment he sits before you, head hung low.
The karma he bears had never crushed him this badly.
✧ SCARAMOUCHE
Winter squalls leave nothing but ashes behind.
The layers of snow have started melting, decrepit twigs following, the aftermath of a furious gale, death in its wake.
The wanderer seems to verse in the bony hands of it often, after all. This life, this world… they only ever took from him, shattered mirrors as the only remains of promises to never come.
He rests the back of his head on the frigid stone. He doesn’t care about the last remains of snow seeping into his very crafted bones.
Scaramouche’s hand closes into a fist, dirt and melted ice on his skin.
“They took you away too…” The puppet breathes, inexistent puffs of his words sifting against the blackened skies in the cold. His indigo gaze is clouded over, despite stars littering every corner of the midnight above.
A lie.
Make believe. Like thinking he could be happy for once.
Turning around, Scaramouche presses his forehead against what’s left to symbolize you.
“Why?” He asks, teeth gritted, to stop the helpless quiver of his lip. “Why you too?”
The softness of your human embrace takes ahold of his memories, as you both lay beneath the endless firmament above.
“Have you ever wished upon a star, Kuni?” You asked, your warm fingers combing through the distant nights contained in his shiny locks.
“Pft, are you serious?” He used to retort, the mirrored galaxies of his stare coming into view as his eyelids opened.
“Very.” You stated, without stopping your movements, eyes never leaving the starfields above.
“Why?” He asked, focused on your profile, as if a part of him knew how ephemeral instants like this would become, committing to memory the only constellation that lit up his hollow heart.
“Because it’s nice, to hope, to believe in things… wouldn’t you agree?” You smiled down at him, tender hands cradling the coolness of his jawline.
“Huh, if you say so…”
“You know I’m right!” You chuckled, poking his cheek playfully, his nose scrunching up in feigned annoyance.
“Ugh, whatever.”
“Make a wish?” Your fingers found his in the night breeze, entwining together, the warmth of a small sun just for him.
“Fine…” He sighed, closing his eyes, lashes of concealed dreams leaning on his perfect cheekbones.
“I wished for forever with you.” He croaks out now.
An almost god brought to his knees by the treacherous fate written in devious stars.
His vision blurs, headed skyward, the universe above, a multitude of molten wildfires to him, raining down in flammable rain, his own tears the match to ignite them.
The failed god weeps. Winter burns.
✧ LYNEY
“You never know what can happen in the blink of an eye.”
Those were the words the magician once uttered, as your eyes lit up in wonder. He believes to recall it was a summer night, when his dusky gaze set on you for the first time.
Beaming and shining with excitement, you marveled at his sleight of hand, as the lumidouce bell on the performer’s hand vanished, only for its petals to have tinted in rosy shades of rainbow when the bloom next appeared in your hair.
If anyone had told Lyney, in that moment, that you’d end up putting his heart under spell, he wouldn’t have quite believed it.
But thinking back on it now, the time spent next to you certainly feels like mere seconds.
A peculiar figure sporting a top hat makes his way towards Fontaine’s graveyard.
His steps are monotone, the usual cheshire-like grin on his visage is nowhere to be seen, and in his hands, flowers abound.
Lumidouce bells.
The color of goodbyes, separations.
And the summer nights under which he used to kiss you.
“Please, Lyney! I want to see another one!” You begged, hands clasped together, eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.
Your lover hums, his gaze, the backdrop against which the sunsets in your stare sparkled.
“Well, mon coeur,” the magician leaned forward, “I’ll have to charge you for it this time, you know.”
You pouted, marcotte colored lips irresistibly sweet, a bite of sugary peach in the heat of an early midsummer’s night.
“Close your eyes, my rose.” Lyney breathed, in the little dusk-lit millimeters separating you two.
“Okay.”
Warmth flooded around him the instant his lips enveloped yours, akin to fairy lights in the coziness of a familiar room, fiery arrows that linked two hearts. Your lover’s hands cupped your jawline, spells written in the caress of his gloved touch over your skin.
A new breed of magic, with the sun dipping behind the nation of hydro’s mountains to give the lovers privacy.
When he next opens his eyes, the allure has faded.
No trace of you remains, save for the emptiness and cold beside him.
And the only nightmare he can’t undo; your tombstone all too palpable, too real.
“You really never know how everything can change in the blink of an eye, huh?” Lyney utters, his voice raw, hoarse.
Despite the lumidouce bells’ petals shifting from dusk to dawn the moment he lays them to rest over you, the magician feels like he’s shooting arrows made of shadows; there’s no fiery beacon to light up this night.
The curtain closes when he steps away, rainbow roses bleeding and lonely in his wake.
The sun has set.
✧ NEUVILLETTE
Off-key birdsong and steely skies.
Those are Fontaine’s Chief Justice’s companions today.
Alone, he sits next to the ghost of someone he used to adore.
Someone he still loves.
Crystalline amethyst eyes scan the horizon. Even the seas seem turbulent today, relentless waves colliding against jutting rocks, as if by persistence alone they could cut through them.
The wailing ocean mirrors Neuvillette’s actions; as if by staring in the distance, he could somehow conjure you up back into the world, on forgotten dreams and pieces of flashbacks alone.
“It looks like it will rain soon, my dearest.” He softly says, the words lost in the monsoon overcasting the heavens.
Naturally, no answer follows, except for the agonized cry of a fallen sparrow.
The Iudex of Fontaine sighs. An upheaval in the blowing mistral combs through his hair, the sensation unlocking the pages of a diary once rose-colored, now only scattered petals over a lake that’s gone still for good.
“Isn’t the weather so nice lately, Neuvi?” You chirped, knees folded over the azure flowerbeds. Your hands were carded through your lover’s long locks, silver seafoam running almost hypnotizingly between your fingers.
Sunbeams glittered all around you when his eyes opened up to you, enigmas from the depths being laid bare for you alone.
“It is, darling…” He trailed off, one of his hands touching the side of your face, eliciting giggles from you.
Pink dusted over the pallor of his cheeks whenever you did that.
If only all days could be sunny, if only he could have kept the symphony of your laugh forever playing…
The sea’s surface turns charcoal, undulating with the low whistling of uprising gales.
Dark spots start appearing over the stone where your name’s been eternally put to sleep.
Hi there !! I understand f you can’t write this since it’s a sensitive topic but can I req a lyney and aventurine x reader (separate) where they walk in on reader SH-ing? If you can’t write this thats alright, but instead can it be a fic where lyney or aventurine just have an injured reader (like they hurt their ankle or smth) thank you and have a nice day !! Take your time <3
multiple characters headcannons!
he won't let you be alone.
!SH warning!
characters: gi · lyney, hsr · aventurine x gn!reader
author's note: alright so this is a very sensitive topic so read it at your own risk if you're triggered by any of this :3 also i'm so sorry for literally DISAPPEARING i had no motivation + school started so i wanna write something rn just to give you guys SOMETHING😭
♡ Lyney
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-if he saw you like just in your room doing that he would probably instantly freeze for a few seconds until literally TELEPORTING next to you and asking what happened.
-he'll take away whatever you used for it as he genuinely almost starts crying himself
-like seriously his eyes would be teary but he would try to not cry(it's a 50/50 wether he succeeds or not)
-"m-mon amour... why didn't you tell me or something.. i don't know.... archons— wait here, i'll bring the first-aid kit.." he's stumbling over his words because of how worried he is
-cleans the wounds and patches them up for you, then refuses to leave you alone in the ROOM for the next week or two.
-so fucking worried for you he texts lynette 24/7 telling her about your condition and how to help you in any other way
-he lets 'father' know that he can't do any missions for the time being and surprisingly, she understands and let's him take care of you.
⑅ Aventurine
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-(i hope he doesn't turn out to be ooc.)
-also immediately freezes but doesn't immediately rush next to you because of the shock, evident in his eyes
-"love, what.. what is this... i.. what happened—" and that's where he comes closer and takes the object away from you(you'll probably never see it again in your whole life)
-after he calms you down a bit, he gets the first-aid kit asap and patches you up carefully.
-first of all, he makes you rest for a bit, to take a nap before anything else.
-when you wake up, he tells you you're free to talk to him about anything and everything that was bothering you, hoping that he could be able to help in any way.
-although he doesn't start crying(like lyney), his heart still hurts a lot.
-it aches for you.
-he's wondering if he did anything wrong, to try and fix it immediately.
-he just wants you to be okay.
FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING
alright i like it
i wanna write for kinich but i gotta finish my reqs first🔥🔥
