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nemeseos-noctua · 3 years

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hello!¡ idk if you guys have wrote for angst but i’ll req one since the reqs are open,, can i req for xiao, zhongli and venti where their [mortal] s/o slowly dies on their arms. yk since they’re basically immortal and how they’d react to losing another loved one. ty!

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xiao, zhongli, venti (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: venti and zhongli story spoilers, not proofread

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the way i teared UP while writing venti’s (also i love this request. i spent like 40 minutes writing it during a class but AGHH I LOVE THE FREEDOM I HAD WHILE WRITING IT)

a part of him hates himself for loving you

he knew. he knew you were but a mortal, a fleeting love and a fleeting life. and yet, he lowered his guard. he let himself love, he let himself feel joy and bask in your warmth that the lingering thought of ‘temporary’ left his veins

but holding you like this—in his arms, in his cold cold arms that already missed your missing warmth, his bloodied gloves and sunny irises:

he hates you. he hates you for loving him. he hates himself for loving you. he should’ve never subjected himself to this pain—

but he’ll never stop loving the memories of you

“Sorry, Xiao,” You smiled weakly, chest heaving with restrained coughs as the Yaksha winced, cradling you in his arms as the moon began to rise.

“Don’t speak. Conserve your energy,” The Adeptus disregarded your words, his heart pounding against his chest with a pain so unfamiliar, a pain of heartache he wish he never experienced.

Maybe, if he had rejected you that fateful night—he’d feel this pain still. He’d feel it, just, earlier.

Would it be worth it? To sacrifice your memories, your love— for an easier farewell. Maybe, if he had never fallen in love with you, maybe, if you had just stayed in your mortal life and never seeked him out—maybe it would be you who was crying on his behalf.

Gazing down at you, Xiao’s grip on the fabrics of your shirt tightened. You had changed since he first met you—wrinkles adorned your face, [e/c] eyes drooping and your bones were stiffer and more fragile than his ever was.

And yet, he loved you like the first time he met you—though he’d never admit it, appearance never really mattered to him anyways. Though he held a youthful visual, he knew that if his true age was put into a look... it’d be nothing more than skin and bones.

“I love you, Xiao.”

“Don’t.”

Don’t. Don’t make him love you even more, don’t make him miss you before you had even left.

Don’t. Don’t leave him—don’t leave him stranded again, destined to fight against demons and protect Liyue even after its archon’s passing.

Don’t, don’t make him cry uncharacteristic tears. Don’t make him long for a love that was gone.

xiao would put you to rest once the beat of your heart comes to a stop

he is painfully familiar with the traditions of a passing. he is familiar with the way he’d set someone down into the earth. he is familiar with the soil and the rain and the moon and the stars

he—adeptus xiao—was familiar with death. in fact, he dealed in it

this is most likely xiao’s first time watching someone die from old age

or—someone he loves

he is used to the realm of immortals, he is used to watching them be murdered or sabotaged. but never has he seen old age take someone

and he wished to never see it again.

xiao would close his heart from the world—if it wasn’t closed already, it’d be barricaded by twice the amount. thorns used to block the outside world would stab his own heart, and xiao would only know grief for a period of time

he’d find himself coming back to your final resting place, he’d find himself planting glaze lilies and flowers at your grave as he mourns a lost love

he—still hates you. he hates the love you gave him and the love you shared... but now it doesn’t hurt so much anymore

your death would only prompt him to become stronger. to become colder, to hate the world even more than he already does

zhongli would sometimes visit xiao, and even he is pained by your death. the world—it twisted and turned, it moved and wove tales with the strings of fate...

but never before has xiao wished he was mortal. if he were mortal, he could pass peacefully. if he were mortal, he could meet you again

mortals.

xiao hates mortals.

he hates them because being mortal was what took you away from him

the touch of death has numbed to zhongli

he has experienced it far too much, but watching you fade in his arms was probably the worst yet most bittersweet way to go

on one hand, zhongli is relieved. he is relieved that you passed peacefully, he is relieved that you left without any pain

yet on the other hand, he is heartbroken. he is broken to watch yet another loved one go, he is broken to have to arrange the casket that you will sleep eternally in

zhongli is grateful. he is grateful to ever meet you, he is grateful to have the honor of putting a ring on your finger and being able to lock your lips with his. he is grateful for so many things and yet he still wants more

he wishes to hold you until time itself fades, he wishes to experience the present with you instead of dwelling on the past that you so regrettably will become apart of

he, zhongli, consultant of wangsheng’s funeral parlor—wished for time. a time he so selfishly held as an immortal.

“The glaze lilies are beautiful today, are they not?” Zhongli hummed, sipping on some tea as he gazed fondly out of the window. His warm coat did nothing to prevent the cold of his side, the lack of your voice or the missing light from your eyes.

Everyday was the same. Everyday was him sitting—alone—in the funeral parlor, the pungent smell of death and cremations flooding his senses as all he could do was watch. Watch the world go by, watch his friends and loved ones die one by one as he was subjected to an eternal dance of loss.

Though, Zhongli knows that you will never truly die as long as you are in his heart. He remembers your smile, your laughs, your growing pains and complaints, your eventual wisdom and hearty laugh that you shared with him moments before your time.

He remembers so much, he loves so much, he loves you and who you were, he loves you and all of you.

“I must admit, I miss you terribly,” The consultant’s voice softened, his fingers setting the tea in his hands down as a lump formed in his throat.

“Yet I would never regret loving you.”

zhongli would stay painfully normal

he does not want your death to hinder him—he knows you would not want that. so he lives life, he carries on—but your memory never leaves

your stories and triumphs will be the topic for one of his best stories. and that otherworldly traveler... he hopes they carry on your legacy with each and every world they visit

and he hopes you... you and your beautiful smiles, you and your love and your kindness and your ambitions—

he hopes you are resting peacefully in the flowers he prepared for you

venti would strum you your favorite tunes as you pass

a bittersweet smile paints his face as your back rests against his chest, frail and weak coughs leaving your system as you heave for a single breath

do you remember? do you remember the way the two of you used to climb the tree at windrise? do you remember how you’d drag him from the late diluc’s tavern? do you remember how you’d stay up late at night listening to his songs and mindless chatter?

he remembers. he remembers watching you grow, he remembers standing beside you as you ran for your dreams. he remembered gliding with you aboard the strange island of time you insisted on exploring

“I love you, so so so so so much, [Y/N]...” Venti would muster, wiping his tears as you couldn’t even turn around to gaze at him. To gaze at his youthful form and unchanging appearance, to gaze into those azure eyes you had fallen for and his scheming tactics.

Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, Venti took one deep breath. He loved the way you smelled, how it seemed like you rolled in a field of sweet flowers (though he knew your stiff bones would never allow such a thing), how you used to play along with his schemes when you were younger.

Venti loves you, and all of you. He loved you when you were a young adult, he loved you when you were middle-aged, he loved you when you were an elder.

He love love love love loves you, so much so that it seemed to overpower the pain.

He knew your time was up, he knew his time with you was gone, but he persists on with your memory.

mondstadt has surely changed ever since your passing

venti finds himself waddling into angel’s share twice a day, even if he can’t afford it. he finds himself on the receiving end of pitied gazes and free drinks (for no reason, though everyone knows the reason). he finds the way klee is no longer a child and the way the honorary knight never visits mondstadt anymore quite jarring

he finds himself—lost. he has lost so many, watched so many go, held so many fallen friends in his hands that he can no longer count

though, he misses you. a lot, actually. when klee is busy being an adult and bombing abyss mages instead of fish, venti finds himself weaving tunes of your valor and honor at the statue of—himself

he finds himself longing for you, loving you as if you were still by his side. he sings and sings, strumming his lyre so much that he hopes you can hear them from the heavens

and after—after he has made his and your mark on the newer generation, venti, the windborne bard, falls into a slumber

he sleeps. he sleeps in celestia in hopes of dreaming a dream with you. he sleeps in hope of finding you in a neverland so beautiful

he hopes that one day when he descends once more amongst his people—he hopes you will be there. just like the first time he met you.

— constellations!

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