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#anyways reader might have trauma but they also got a harem out of it
dulcesiabits · 3 years
Text
memento mori.
summary: a re:zero au for genshin impact.
notes: story spoilers, very complicated relationships and some unhealthy mindsets, reader death, lots of violence, just lots of death and mentions of death in general, angst, shoutout to the wonderful @wangshengs for brainrotting with me over this idea muah muah!! <3
Background: You’re suddenly isekai-ed to Teyvat one day in the place of the traveler. Every time you die, the timeline restarts to a set moment before you died. You’re stuck in an eternal timeloop, and when you clear certain plot points, your “respawn” point moves further up the timeline. You’re a threat to the natural “law” of Teyvat, so monsters are naturally more aggressive to you. Both the Abyss Order and Dainsleif view you as a strange anomaly that needs to be “fixed”. After all, Teyvat won’t allow you to stay dead, and time itself shifts to keep you alive. All the gods and adeptus are well aware of what’s happening; they’re the only ones who know when the timeline restarts.
Dropped in the middle of nowhere, with no clue as to what happened or what to do, your first death is quick and painful when you’re shot full of arrows by a hilichurl archer after you stumble too close to their camp. It is witnessed by one person: Venti, who arrives far too late. You’re bleeding out by the time he finds you, and he knows he cannot save you.
He holds your body in his arms, brushing back your hair. “I’m sorry I was too late,” he says, nothing but a stranger in your first death. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” His eyes are a thousand miles away; is he really talking to you? You’re too far gone to care.
“This is the only thing I can do for you,” Venti says. He opens his mouth, and sings. His song wraps you in its embrace, easing your pain and calming your fear. Your eyes close... only to reopen with a start, your hands trembling as you search your body for arrow wounds that should be there; you can feel the pain, haunting every step, but there is no blood, no bruises, nothing to show that you had just died. In fact, you woke up where you had first been dropped in Teyvat.
This time, you avoid the hilichurl camp where you had just died, and when you stumble across Venti, his eyes widen. “You should be dead,” he says. 
Something is horribly wrong, and the both of you know it. Still, he does his best to reassure you.
“Maybe the archons love you,” he suggests cheerily, “to give you another chance at life.”
If this is love, then the blessing of the gods is a cruel thing.
At first, Venti is your sole companion in Mondstadt; he’s the only one who knows how the timeline restarts when you die, and the only one you can lean on. He holds you closely to him when your body shakes with sobs after a particularly cruel death, humming to sooth you. Venti does his best to protect you when he can, and introduces you to Diluc, who gives you a job working as a servant in his estate. 
Venti is your first friend, and gifts you with countless ordinary moments that make you forget your worries: when he clings to you as you drag him home after a long night at the bar as he sings drunken ballads, when he takes you to Starsnatch cliff, your hand gripped tightly in his, to pick celicas to tuck behind your ear, when you sneak onto the top of his own statue in Mondstadt, where the two of you share drinks and Venti grips your waist securely, so you’ll never fall.
Still, he cannot protect you from everything. The number of times the timeline restarts when Venti is away from you makes his chest ache; he runs to you the moment the time rewinds, knowing something horrible has happened. It frustrates him all the more so when he loses his gnosis; he can barely do anything to help you now. 
(The sight of your fading warmth and the light draining from your eyes reminds Venti all too much of another friend he was unable to save. This is his penance. You have to live. You have to live. You have to live. Otherwise, he will have failed another person he loved.)
Whenever you “meet” Kaeya during those first few resets, he views you with a mix of distrust and false geniality. Why is it that this is the first time you’re visiting Mondstadt, and yet, you know more about the knights than you should? There’s something about you that’s not quite right, an instinctive feeling that you’re hiding something important. And, well, Kaeya doesn’t hesitate to put a sword through your heart when you accidentally stumble upon one of his hard-kept secrets, a deal with an informant that he can’t afford to let grow sour.
You learn, then. You learn to dance with Kaeya, an endless waltz of lies and half-truths, the phantom pain of a sword stab flaring up to remind you of the dangers Kaeya holds. Still, when he stumbles upon your secret, his first reaction is not disbelief, but a cold, calculating thought: how can he best use you now? Your ability is priceless, and you’re a stranger; the fate of his friends and his home outweighs your life. After a point, he starts to remember the time loops; he never tells you how, why or even when he began to do so (maybe it has something to do with his connection to Khaenri’ah). One day, he just began mentioning the timeloops, so casually you almost forgot to be surprised.
(And if his hands shakes when he watches you die for the first time, a death he orchestrated, if he has to wash his hands in cold water over and over, and still the blood won’t come out-- well. That’s just another skeleton in his closet.)
At some point, trying to ferret all of your secrets has caused him to grow closer to you, closer than is safe. When did he start to memorize the sound of your footsteps outside his door, moments before you burst in? When did he start to look forward to teasing you, watching you roll your eyes and hide a smile? When did affection and fondness bloom at the simple sight of you?
(When did he stop relying on your ability? When did he start avoiding its use? Did he really think that he would be worthy of your love if he apologized, pretended like he didn’t cause you to die for his own selfish reasons? Did he really believe that someone like him deserved someone like you, when there was always a chance that, in a desperate situation, he would put a blade through your heart again?)
Kaeya is a terrible person, he knows this. He doesn’t deserve anything from you. Still, when you lean your head on his shoulder, tired from a long day, he cannot push you away. 
“Don’t fall asleep on me, now,” he chides as he wraps one arm around you.
“I wouldn’t dare,” you mumble, but your eyes are drifting closed.
“You’re not safe with me around. I’m not going to keep you safe the way Venti or Diluc would.”
“I know that.” A pause. A breath. He realizes that you’ve fallen asleep. 
“You have horrible taste in men,” Kaeya murmurs, as he kisses your forehead. “You need to be more careful around me.”
(He cannot have more than this. He cannot let himself think he can ever be forgiven.)
The first time Albedo sets eyes on you, the world stops. A painful longing fills his chest, and he has to look away because the sight of you is too much. What a strange person you are, to evoke the echoes of such powerful emotions in him. He’s never even met you before, he’s sure of it. Still, the brief encounter burns itself into his mind. There’s something different about you, that much is clear. 
(Albedo almost remembers something that never happened-- cradling you in his arms, Dainsleif standing over you with your blood staining his blade, calmly explaining you were a threat, tears freezing on his lashes as he cups your face, heedless of the man before him, a searing pain as Dainsleif sinks his sword into Albedo’s chest-- then it’s gone).
Disappointment flashes in Albedo’s eyes when he realizes you’re just an ordinary human; countless experiments later, and there’s nothing to prove your body is different from anyone else’s. Maybe he needs to believe there’s something special about you, that he’s not alone in the world. Still, his instinct can’t be wrong; why did you make such an expression when he proposed that the two of you were different from others? 
Albedo is kind to you, in a way that he is to no one else. The mere mention of your name causes his head to perk up, a little trick that Kaeya often plays on him to get him to take a break from his work. He allows you free reign in your lab, answers all of your questions, no matter how trivial, and often sketches you in the corner of his notes when he isn’t paying attention. Somehow, his interest in you has begun to be more than just scientific in nature; you’ve made a place in his heart, and he has no desire to chase you out.
But you’re hiding something, something that you’ve shared with Venti and Kaeya. Albedo waits for you to confide in him as well (there may have been a little jealousy at play here, not that he can admit it). Is this secret what causes dark circles to form under your eyes? Is this secret what makes you fidgety and nervous for no apparent reason? Is this secret why, whenever you pass by a sword, you will flinch and rub at your neck unconsciously? 
(Is this secret why Albedo will be filled with grief when he sees you, and echoes of strange memories he shouldn’t have, memories of your death, haunt him?)
When you stumble into his lab one day, he finally comes face to face with the horrible truth.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling you into his arms. You’re so cold, and he starts rubbing your arms as you shiver.
“I’m tired,” you lie, your gaze darting away.
Albedo asks no questions, only focuses on warming you up. 
“Do you think... alchemy can bring someone back from the dead?” you ask.
His first thought is that you want to bring someone back to life. His second is that this has something to do with whatever secret you’re keeping.
“Alchemy can do many things,” Albedo says carefully, watching your expression. “But bringing someone back from the dead is almost possible.”
You look resigned at his words, and a terrible realization grows. What if those strange feelings, those strange memories, are real? What if he has failed to protect you? What if you have been dying over, and over?
(Albedo doesn’t want to lose you. Even if he has to burn Mondstadt to the ground to keep you warm in its flames, and be the monster Dainsleif fears.)
Diluc is your benefactor, and the only one unaware of the timeloops. There’s a certain relief in that; with him, you can pretend to be an ordinary person. He gives you a job and a place to stay when you first arrived in Mondstadt (mostly due to Venti’s badgering), and his home becomes a safe haven when you’re discouraged from your countless deaths trying to stop Dvalin.
Of course, Diluc’s decision to house you isn’t entirely due to his kindness. He has a duty to protect Mondstadt, and he needs to know if you’re a threat or not. You’re an outsider; who knows what dangers you bring? He knows there’s a secret you’re hiding, something that causes Venti to visits you at late hours, and that makes Kaeya whisper cryptic warnings. If it’s a secret that threatens Mondstadt, then he will have no choice but to kill you.
Even as you grow closer to Diluc, there’s always a sense of distance between the two of you. You, with your endless secrets and strained smile, and him, who has long since drawn a line between him and everyone else he knows. Still, he starts to become fond of your greetings in the morning, and the thoughtful way you bring him snacks and water when you know he’s tired. It’s hard to even think of you as a threat when you don’t know how to wield a weapon, or even have a vision. You’re so sweet, he finds himself quietly ordering an fluffy blanket for your room, and asking the chefs to make extra servings of your favorite food.
(You remind Diluc of himself, sometimes. Someone lonely. Someone who’s breaking under a burden they can barely bear. He knows the look in your eyes.)
Diluc’s doors are always open to you. It’s all too easy to simply run away to his house, to stay there for days that bleed into weeks, to try to forget your troubles. He’s more than happy to let you stay as long as you want, to provide you with what you need. He doesn’t even ask what you’re running from; he knows better than most how painful such questions are. It’s not healthy for you, you know it isn’t, but it’s hard not to be terrified when death lurks around every corner and Diluc keeps you safe from it all.
One night, Diluc finds you crying on the stairwell. He hesitates to intrude, but he can’t stand the thought that you will simply cry yourself to sleep, with no one to comfort you.
He approaches you, and you stand, hastily, wiping at your eyes.
“Greetings, Master Diluc,” you say brightly, but your voice is far too high.
Diluc is not good with words. He clears his throat, and opens his arms instead. “I don’t know what you’re going through, but just know I’ll be here for you if you need it.”
Your face crumples, and you sink into his arms. It feels awkward to hold you; how long has it been since he’s hugged another person? Where does he put his arms? Diluc does know this, at least: he wants to pull you close to him, and protect you from whatever it is that causes you such fear.
(When you wake up one morning, and tell Diluc that you’ve decided not to stay with him any longer, that you can’t keep using him to run away from your pain, he pretends he doesn’t know that Venti is the one who snuck into your room at night to hold your hand and convince you to leave your birdcage. Maybe one day, you will trust him enough to take his hand and tell him your secrets.)
Tsaritsa has always wished to bring down Celestia, and you’re the answer to all her prayers. When she finally pieces together that you’re the one who causes the world to reset, she sends one missive to Childe, the harbinger closest to you: be ready to kill this person at my word. Who is he to refuse? He feels an inkling of pity and confusion at first; you’re so weak, you’re hardly a threat. You have no vision, no skill in battle, and you trust him all too easily when he approaches you. Why would the Tsaritsa want your death? But he does not hesitate to kill you.
It’s a pity, really. Childe was starting to grow fond of you, and he’s certain that if you had met under other circumstances, you could have been good friends. But orders are orders, so no hard feelings, right? Your deaths by his hands are always quick and methodical, with minimal blood loss and little pain. It’s a horrible sort of kindness, but he doesn’t want you to suffer needlessly.
The cruel irony is that you gain your vision after Childe kills you for the first time. You wake up with an aching neck and a scream on your lips, the bitter taste of betrayal choking you. It takes you a while to notice the cryo vision tucked into your hands. It’s not an apology from Tsaritsa, but a promise: she will use you as many times as she needs to. A vision in exchange for your broken heart; what a tasteless joke. 
At first, the time Childe spends with you is done out of a sense of obligation. It’s easier to stab a knife in your back if you think he’s a friend, you know? His thoughts wander to you so often only because you’re his target- that’s what Childe tells himself when he realizes the memory of your smile warms him when he’s alone at night, when he looks forward to sharing dinner with you and teasingly feeding you bites of his food. He can’t love you, he can’t-- because he has a blade pressed to your neck, because he will kill every good part of himself if he has to watch you die by his hands.
It makes your stomach turn when you realize Childe has fallen in love with you. You might have been able to return his feelings, once. But you will always be a means to the end, and he will never love you enough to betray Tsaritsa’s orders. You would have preferred it if he hated you, looked at you with distant politeness, instead of the way his gaze softens and a smile he reserves only for you tugging at his mouth.
Childe starts to have nightmares. They grow stronger with each timeloop that passes by with you dead by his hands. Flashes of scenes from a previous life become a prolonged theatre of agony, one he’s unable to escape from. You die by his hands, over and over and over. When he wakes in the morning, he’s relieved to see there’s no blood staining his clothes, but still, the smell of iron lingers uncomfortably.
(Childe seeks you out, once, after a particularly bad dream. He needs to make sure you’re still there, that you haven’t died. He almost collapses with relief when he sees you drinking tea with Zhongli. But-- why won’t you look at him? Why does Zhongli subtly shift to block you from his view?)
Something changes. You flinch at his touch. You no longer meet his eyes when you talk. You refuse to seek out his company any longer. Childe is bewildered; had he done something to upset you? Every attempt at reconciliation is met with cold rejection. Your companions despise him. If there’s anything he can do to fix things, won’t you let him? It’s okay if you don’t love him, if his feelings disgust you, as long as you allow him to see you, even if it’s just from afar.
(But what if the nightmares were right? What if he had hurt you irrevocably? It would be easier if he didn’t love you, if he didn’t dread every order from Tsaritsa demanding your death. If only he could take your hand and run from it all. If only he was the one making you smile, not Diluc or Albedo.)
Zhongli knows who you are the moment he sees you: the little human Venti and Childe have grown so fond of, and the one disturbing the natural order of Teyvat. He has no plans to become involved with you. Unless you become a threat to Liyue, then your decisions have no bearings on him. He’s well acquainted with time, so the timeloops hardly register as an annoyance to him.
Zhongli watches you struggle, again and again, to solve the mystery of Rex Lapis’s death. Your perseverance is admirable, even when you’re forced to restart, even when your friends forget you and they lose all the memories you’ve made, even when you are betrayed by people you thought you could trust. Before Zhongli knows it, he starts to recognize your lonely figure as you run across the streets of Liyue harbor, determined to make it through alive this time. 
 When Zhongli officially meets you for the first time, his heart stirs, and he thinks he understands why Venti was so moved by you. You are a solidarity glaze lily growing on a cliffside, someone struggling to survive even in the face of heartbreaking pain. He sees trace of a familiar burden in your eyes, and understands how tired you are. If he cannot help you as Rex Lapis, perhaps he can help you as Zhongli.
But there is little Zhongli can do for you. Rex Lapis is supposed to be dead, and later, when his gnosis is gone, his power is diminished. The one thing he can do is teach you how to wield a polearm, and how to use your vision to its full potential. If he cannot always protect you, he hopes you can at least protect yourself. His hands linger on your arms as he guides them into the proper positions, and when he pulls you flush against his chest in the heat of battle, he wonders what you would do if he simply held you there, like he longs to. 
(You make him understand why humans fall to temptation, and why they break contracts).
Zhongli becomes another person you turn to after traumatic deaths. He sits you in his lap, rubbing soothing circles on your back. He makes you herbal tea to calm you and sooth your pain. He shelters you in his arms, resting his head on top of yours. Zhongli never says a word to you unless you wish for him to, reassuring you that you’re safe now. He’s an attentive listener, respectful and quiet as you sob into his shoulder.  
Once, you were supposed to come over for dinner. But you were unusually late, and his apprehension grew with each passing minute. When he steps into the cold night to search for you, he is just in time to see Childe slash your throat.
“Ah, sorry you had to see that, Mr. Zhongli,” Childe says pleasantly, blood glinting on his blade.
Zhongli was a war god, once, and the memory of violence burns his palms as his polearm urges him to summon it and stab the man before him. Childe is only following orders; he understands more than anyone what it means to be bound by contracts. But that is no cure to the pain that rages through his heart as he runs to you, knowing all the while it’s too late. 
In a few seconds, the timeloop will restart. When it does, he will run to your side, and reassure himself you are real and alive and whole as he holds you close.
(You remind him of Guizhong, sometimes. You have the same charming smile and the same cleverness, the same sort of gentleness that the world loves to break. There is a certain relief in knowing you can come back-- because he will never have to fail you in the same way he did Guizhong. He will have as many chances as it takes to save you).
It’s painfully easy for Xiao to fall for you. A kind human, who seeks him out for no reason other than that you enjoy his company, who always remembers to bring some almond tofu when you visit him, means that he’s drawn to you like a moth to the light. 
Xiao is your dedicated protector. He stays by your side at all hours of the day to keep you safe from harm, to the point you wonder if he ever gets any sleep. He views anyone who approaches you with a suspicious glare, and his weapon is never far from his hands. He cannot stand being away from you for too long; if there isn’t someone else who can take his place as your protector, then he refuses to leave. If something were to happen while he was gone, he would never forgive himself.
When Zhongli first teaches you how to use your polearm and your vision, Xiao is your sparring partner. He’s harsh and he never holds back, but when he sees you’re tired, he cuts your session short and orders you to rest and brings you some water. Xiao is also the one to gift you your first weapon; an old, elegant polearm that used to belong to him. It’s an adeptal weapon, so it will be almost impossible to break. If he spent a sleepless night polishing it to a shine and blessing it with protection charms, there’s no need for you to know.
The things that Xiao loves best about you are small moments you no longer remember. When you brushed all the knots and tangles out of his hair, carefully as to avoid hurting him, your brushstrokes almost soothed him to sleep. When you gifted him a jade bracelet that was a pair to your own, he always checks to make sure it’s secured on his wrist. When you kissed his forehead for no other reason than pure affection for him, Xiao will occasionally touch that spot to remember the warmth of your lips.
Someone like him, however, does not know how to love gently. Destruction follows him like a plague, and when he stands in a field of corpses, the remains of monsters that tried to kill you, he feels nothing but a victorious relief that he has managed to protect you.
“You’re safe now,” Xiao says. He moves to pull you close, before he remembers he’s covered in blood. He can’t dirty you.
You look at him, something pained in your eyes that he doesn’t understand. Why do you hold back tears as you bandage his wounds and rub ointment on his bruises? You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.
But you? You never wanted this. You never wanted to become another shackle that chains him to his duty and his past. How can you remind him to love himself, if he will forsake everything for you?
(Xiao has to protect you. He has to. When you die, he dies too. He’s not worth anything if he cannot keep you safe. But he wonders if he has forgotten to protect your heart in his quest to keep you safe.)
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