#genshin gorou x reader

beloved treasure box || gorou

masterlist

characters:gorou

genre:angst

contains: spoilers for gorou’s hangout quest (specifically final remembrance), reader death, gorou mourning (name), sad dog :(

summary: recovering that treasure box was the only thing on gorou’s mind. well, other than the incident, that is.

notes: gorou’s premiere fic! and keeping up with tradition (that has for some reason formed on this account), it’s angst! yayy… anyway, just finished all of gorou’s hangout quests so take this

oh archons, how could he have let this happen? he didn’t think that anyone would dig up the box, let alone bury stolen treasures there!

sure, he and the traveler got the box back, but still… the amount of time he spent away from that box, away from the contents inside of it, drove him insane.

returning to watatsumi island with it felt relieving, almost cathartic. sorting through all the objects some may consider junk only sent more relief through his system. the familiar names of his fallen soldiers stared back at him, almost taunting him to return the goods to their intended recipients.

and beneath it all lay his beloved, their dull vision gleaming in the sunlight.

that battle was embedded in his memory, the attack intended for him lodged deep into their chest. and yet, as they fell to the ground with blood bubbling in their mouth, they continued to command the troops as they panicked over the second in command falling in battle.

although gorou was conscious at the time, his body acted like a completely different entity. no matter what he did, he couldn’t get his body to move the way he wanted that day. perhaps it was because he was still inexperienced. or perhaps it was because of his instincts.

he had dropped his bow and fell to the ground beside them, high-pitched whines escaping his throat. his ears had flattened and his tail was tucked between his legs.

the ears and tail you loved to run your hands along when he had trouble sleeping.

he pawed at your arm, which weakly moved to cup his cheek. your blood smeared across his skin. oh archons, he still can’t get that horrid smell out of his nose.

with your dying breath, you proclaimed your love for him. perhaps that was why he could never give love advice for the advice column. any mention of a relationship that he could have had in the future sent him spiraling. spiraling back to a time where he ultimately lost that future.

you had pressed your fading vision in his hand that day. just like the rest of his fallen troops, you had left behind a memento. one specifically for him.

he gently scooped it out of the box, ignoring the eyes of the traveler beside him. holding it close to his face, he could imagine you standing before him. he could feel your hands cupping his cheeks and your fingers running through his fur. he could hear your soothing voice in his ears and smell your familiar scent in the air.

oh archons, he could never forgive himself if he ever lost these treasures.