#5.1 genshin impact

[maximwtf]

“I would endure endless defeats before burdening you.”

Capitano x Reader

Words: 4200

Google Docs Pages: 7ish

Warnings: 5.1 spoilers but just about Capitano, established relationship but everything has to be horrible so it’s not established but kinda is but just when you think it is, it’s not. Angst/ kinda comfort? Idk you try to comfort an immortal man rotting from the inside and see how it goes. I guess like the tiniest amount of fluff but that’s sad too. Bad communication, emotional hurt. I imagine him with more real rot, maybe with some abyssal like Dain? Idk, but this is written based on that :) Rotten man, save us.

Opening: Does he have people to open up to about all the years he’s spent with his condition and the thoughts of regret he’s accumulated? Would he allow himself that comfort even if he did? Because that has been for you to figure out, bit by bit. 

AN// G/N reader. I don’t think yall understand how happy I was to get this lore drop on Capitano. Like wdym they have a suffering old man in the cast, and you kept him from me for this long?! Anyway, I feel like it was my duty to write something for him due to that. Enjoy.

If you have any fic ideas for him, feel free to request :)

“I would endure endless defeats before burdening you.”

The hallway outside was silent, matching the space behind the door at the very end of it. A faint light on a sturdy wooden table, a couple other lights scattered here and there. But no amount of warm candles nor a bigger fire could truly disperse the coldness in the room. The man inhabiting it, so stupefied by it by now that he barely noticed anymore. And the people who had before, dared not mention it anymore either.

The light outside had disappeared some time ago. The sun never truly rose in mid winter, or at the very least it didn’t seem like it did. Especially on the days when the snowfall was so thick it painted the horizon white. Covering the sun along with its soft blanket. And so it had done on this day as well, and by the look of it grown tired by the end. Yielding, and soon the snowflakes turned so small it looked more like powdered sugar from afar. Only a little too late for the sun to make any sort of appearance anymore, the chance for that long gone. 

Did the sun have regrets at the end of days such as this? Had it not tried hard enough to repel the heavy snowfall on this day? And now that it had failed, would the people who’d longed to see it shine once more at the end of the day be disappointed? Would they be blinded enough to not see that it had tried to save the end of the day with a few rays of its light, only to realise it was far too late for that? And that it would try again just as hard if another chance was given. 

Capitano stared outside through the window of his office. These seemingly eternal thoughts running through his mind yet again. At times hoping his mind would rot enough to be able to forget any sort of regret he may have still been holding on to. But a curse seemed to stay as such, unable to forget and let his mind rest. 

Not when small things around could be used to remind him, having to shut his mind from viewing these aspects around him on such a deep level. In truth having nothing to do with the past and the actions taken and left undone. All the more reason to try and forget any regret. 

His eyes gazed outside at the snowfall. It coming down in a straight line, placid as ever as it settled to its rightful place. To perhaps be blown to a new location the next day with a gush of wind. The weather was so calm it almost appeared warmer outside than in the uncomfortably chilly office of his. The cold that would have sent a shiver or two down his spine in the past.

Capitano’s eyes focused on his reflection against the window. A man he’d constructed his outer appearance to be, something to stay unchanging as everything else was torn from him bit by bit. That was a man with no regrets, someone powerful to look up to. Someone he’d once been fortunate enough to truly be and live as.

Not that he wasn’t that now as well. Enjoying the respect of his peers, troops and alliances. But each show of power reminded him of who he wasn’t anymore. The person he could no longer even become. A rare few amongst the people he met even being able to comprehend the status he’d held all those years ago. 

His head lowered, a careful pair of hands taking a hold of the carefully constructed mask. Removing it with a slow, almost dragging motion. Lowering it along with his hands, eyes having returned to peer at his reflection. The space dim enough to not allow his full appearance to truly show off. But he knew exactly what the blurry and darkened out parts looked like. What the mask so diligently hid behind it. 

What the outer man he’d built was concealing underneath. The commander he’d been and the person he’d turned into. Forced into being. Cursed with something others would spend their lives seeking, not understanding the cost of living beyond their years. How the flesh would deteriorate and rot. How even his soldier’s will and self respect wavered under the power this change had. How his mind had to come to terms with what used to be and what was now. Who he had to be and what he could now do in order to use what he’d been given to make a mark. Even if only to himself, he wanted to be able to to make this time count. He’d be a disgrace to his former homeland if he had given up all that time ago and frozen in place. The only option was to move on. Even if this curse was eating him alive. 

A part of him sighed in relief when the silence deep in the hallway was disturbed, releasing his mind of these thoughts. Focusing on figuring out who was nearing his door. There was no knock, steps that were silent as ever and that paused almost right after as the door behind this person closed once more. The silence, almost like a vicious entity, taking over the space like it was guarding it. And just before that Capitano had come to a conclusion, you. 

“Greetings,” he spoke with a surprisingly formal tone. Quick to adapt from his thoughts to the current situation. Not foolish enough to not have a guess as to what you were doing here at this hour, but hopeful enough a conversation might make you change the course. But the sound of your voice as you replied, ‘evening’, suggested there was a little chance you’d yield. 

There was much he could have done to try harder, yet he surrendered so soon. Who was he to resist your sheer will? The same will he’d tried to direct elsewhere in the past multiple times, yet it always returned to him. A seasoned warrior smart enough to recognize a losing battle when stumbling upon one, he would have known. 

Your eyes followed keenly as Capitano placed the mask from his hands onto the table. The man’s eyes looked piercing in the faint light of the room, no doubt even frightening to the less knowing. You couldn’t even see his face, only the broad frame of his back. Only the blue shine from the glistened against the reflection from the window, as if peering back at you. The sight overall something not seen every day, something most never saw.

There was no reason for your eyes to be the ones to be allowed to see, to watch and analyse. Or so you believed, if there was a reason neither of you dared to word it. As if doing so would unleash some sort of a spell neither of you wanted to see the aftermath of. There was only so much change a person could bare to their person, so whatever it was that Capitano refused to word, was good as it was. 

Of course, you hadn’t come here for simply the joy of visiting. That never seemed to have formed into a habit, but instead seeking him out when word of him rose from the troops. Anything alluding to his person, not the more usual reputation talk. If that ever changed was when it felt almost mandatory to see him. A difference in the behaviour of a person such as Capitano was sure to never go unnoticed. 

“How was your day?” You broke the silence, seemingly ignoring the reflection from the window. He wasn’t a man to hide himself from you, yet some part of you liked to imagine that respect made you not bring his condition up. Not so soon. 

Waiting for his response after a deep ‘hmp…’ felt like an eternity. Allowing you a chance to slip closer to his desk, eyes skipping mindlessly on the items he’d left there. His words had a deeper growl in them when he spoke so silently, “nothing out of the ordinary.” Which likely was true. Your eyes had scanned the papers on the table, a very few left there to linger. Nothing important ever left for the prying eyes to catch. Yet it proved his words correct, no straight lies ever told. He had no reason to lie to you, to hide anything. But the both of you knew the question had been intended for a deeper analysis of his day instead of an overall view. He hid things. Not out of malice, you knew better than to think such things. 

“That’s good,” you answered soon after. Straightening out a few of the papers, stacking them so the corners met each other in a straight line. The moment was so heavy and you’d only now started to realise as much. There was never much you could do if the murmurs around the troops turned out to be true. He felt so far away even when he was so close, merely on the other side of the desk.

You knew him, better than most, yet he’d seen more than any mortal could likely wrap their head around. So who were you to tell him that it would simply ‘be okay’ or that you were ‘there for him’ when you started to notice his gaze wander. He was not simply sad, he appeared melancholic. But at times even that seemed to be rooted so deep down within him that you couldn’t find a word to describe the emotion radiating from him. And he was unable to give you a word for it. Leaving the now physical distance between the two of you to form into a deeper pit of confusing aches. 

But there was also the root of the problem. This was by no means the first attempt of coming to him, seeking him out and attempting to figure out why his mind wandered. Where it was trying to get for it to be something he couldn’t word. What was the reason for the superficial answers, as if speaking to any one of his soldiers. Why let someone so close, but keep them at the threshold when they were willing to come in?

Though, thoughts like these felt ironic. Knowing you played along with this act of his, not only to entertain him but because it felt easy. How easy it was to allow him to care and dutifully take care of his tasks as he always had, and when it came time to actually connect with him to just let it slide each time. His actions never held any malice nor betrayal, there was no man more loyal to their own morals and comrades than him. So who were you to simply blame him for not letting you closer, when it was you who indulged in his way of communicating. 

“The men seemed to have lived a different day.” You commented after, hoping Capitano would pick up on what you meant. He was not foolish enough to be fully unaware of what his own men were doing and talking about when his back was turned. 

And you’d been correct, the comment made the man look down at you over his shoulder. The piercing eyes of his holding so much in them, it was hard to put to words, but you could tell he knew what you meant. And so you indulged in this way of communicating once more.

Seeing as he had nothing else to ‘say’, you continued. “Thankfully the snowfall gave in on the way here. It was an honest nuisance today…” Continuing to speak of the things you always did, the things you found slipping from your lips each time instead of the actual questions and words you wanted to say. But what use would that be when it felt as if there was no one who truly received those words. 

“Here’s to hope tomorrow will be better on that front,” you continued on alone but knowing full well he was listening, even if he knew exactly the topics you’d choose. The mantras you repeated. His attention on you while you slowly circled around the desk to his side, hand sliding against the smooth surface of the desk. The act as if a final cry to ask for him to reciprocate. 

The fabric of Capitano’s clothes rustled, the movement appearing heavier than they likely truly were. He gave you space near him, allowing you to join him near the window he’d been so keen on. “Hm, may it be so then.” He replied, leaving the end of his response hanging. As if there was more to be added, but left out due to the everlasting heaviness of the room and the air inside it. But you didn’t need more. Past a certain point the conversations you held as a coverup to attempt to communicate started being more tiring than standing in silence to try and understand him better. 

Your eyes gazed at the window, his reflection. Turning to peer at his face soon after. The rot, having consumed so much of the man he used to be, carved him into someone else. You had not seen how he’d looked all those years ago, but he’d insisted that even his comrades from then wouldn’t have been able to recognize him today. 

So how could you ever understand him truly? You weren’t sure what sort of explanation you were waiting to gain from him to make you understand, when there likely was none. He’d seemingly accepted his fate a long time ago, an eternal life ahead of him each morning he woke. Up until the day his body would falter at last. 

But in your eyes that was not a life worth leading on, not with the regrets you knew he held. How could a man rotting from the inside still yearn to fix something that hadn’t even been within his power to save in the first place?

You’d initially not even realised that was likely what he was thinking when his mind started to wander. Not when you’d first seen his face, seen the state he lived in each day. You’d initially feared he held some form of heaviness within him for the way he looked. For a human, losing everything you had and who you were would have been a fate worse than death. Losing the strength you held and the person you had been. Yet he held himself the same each day, seemingly no shame in his condition, if only a flickering light of anguish against the fate he’d been dealt. 

On top of that, he had seemingly never let himself fall to ruin. The person he’d been might have changed into something unrecognisable that could easily disturb the too comfortable. But this was a man of honour, a dignified soldier. For the sake of others, you’d concluded, he diligently kept himself clean. Kept the rot that bothered him not, from causing disturbances to the rest. 

So it was clear, by no means had he given up. He was in terms with who he was now, yet at times like these it seemed like his mind hadn’t. When you so clearly tried conversing, attempting to get him to speak his mind, he refused. Treating you gently, leading your conversation on for long enough to tire you and finally make you stop worrying for him. 

You gave the mask on the table a look, an attempt to lean back towards the topic. Neither of you had forgotten nor had it gone unnoticed by him either. Not now or earlier. 

Capitano followed your movements, eyes landing on the all too familiar mask. Not having to even gaze upon it to know what was being asked of him. And he wished, internally held up hopes that the rot was messing with his mind, feeding him thoughts that weren’t true. That you hadn’t come back to him out of sheer worry yet again.

He was ready to be moulded by you into any shape, ready to yield in front of you if that’s what you asked of him. He cared about what you thought, but in some sense wanted to keep you from worrying. The burdens he held within were self inflicted, he knew that much. A part of him knew the regrets he had were foolish, he couldn’t have done anything more than he had. So when he wasn’t driven mad by those thoughts, he had time to try and form a bond with you. A bond which he wished to not be based on a worry of him. 

He knew you were curious, that was only natural. That was why he’d been open about who he was now, what he could offer you anymore. But what would have been the point of going further into his thoughts, those were his burdens to bear. A fault in himself which he’d created. 

“Your cheek appears irritated?” You said silently, gazing at his face with keen eyes. Pausing for a moment as he turned to face you. “I’m sorry if that-” Backing away from what you’d said a little, cringing if it had come across mockingly. Capitano raised his hand slightly, pausing your rambling. “I know. No need to apologise, you’re fine,” he said after and watched as your expression softened back to normal. 

But you’d been honest, the irritation was no mere frostbite that’d got him. You’d seen it before when he hadn’t had the time to upkeep the condition. A neglect he didn’t participate willingly, but something his work on some occasions forced him to pick up. And which you’d find he let you take care of on those very certain occasions. The least you could do to ease your own worry and the yearning to communicate with him about himself. 

Your hand moved to brush some of his hair from his shoulder to a better position. Running your fingers through it gently so as to not tug him on accident. And he didn’t move, not even if you had. Watching you with the same fond expression he always seemed to. Following keenly when you turned your back to him, abandoning his hair and the caresses he’d grown fond of by that point. Rummaging through the upper drawer of his desk. 

The light in the room was rather dim, not allowing you to see what you were seeking for at first. But your hand knew the shape of the small jar containing a lotion you were familiar with. It was no match for something as detrimental as his condition, but seemingly if this world carried anything that did anything to combat it, it was worth it. 

You fiddled with the jar for a moment, turning it in your hands before daring to look back up at his towering form. He didn’t move an inch, even without the mask he appeared honourable as ever. To you, maybe even more so now. 

An old ache radiating from unsaid words and praises stung your chest at moments like these. An uncountable amount of exalted thoughts of him that you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, to make him understand that you wanted to share his burdens. None of them would make you view him any differently. No matter how many regrets, scars or rotten flesh would face you, he’d still be the same honourable and respected man in your eyes. 

Your eyes gave him an asking look, almost automatic. The request yet again something you couldn’t put into words, and that would leave an awful ache into your chest for not saying. But you adored how he still always understood, hesitated like he’d always done and still ended up accepting. It was you, after all. 

Capitano sat down on the chair behind him. The old wooden thing let out a small noise under the added weight, the room not falling fully silent after. He watched as you undid the lid of the jar, placed it on the table and carefully leaned closer. Taking some of the product onto your finger and with the same tenderness spreading it on the irritated parts. Yet, even from so close up it felt as if some sort of unremovable distance stayed. Always. 

Capitano closed his eyes for a moment, a low breath escaping him as his form allowed his shoulders to ease ever so slightly. Your touch was always gentle and careful, no matter how far he kept you from his burdens and regrets. So who was he to completely refuse your care? He never wished to turn you down or push you away, but he’d also had the time to rot for 500 years. Building something like this was exceptionally hard, and he’d only now come to figure out what that meant truly. 

You made sure the salve was nicely spread before pulling back, watching as his eyes opened after. Feeling how they followed you when returning back to the lid to put it back on. With movements clearly familiar to the situation, you placed the jar back into its rightful place, closing the drawer with a faint thud. 

“Thank you,” his low voice called out with the familiar growl at the end of his words. Capitano leaned onto his knees, pushing himself up from the chair to return back to the window. His silhouette appeared more frail than when he had the thick cloak on, something that somehow still surprised you every now and then. He was by no means a small man to begin with, yet the cloak changed him so much. Making you wonder if that was why he preferred wearing it so. 

You watched him walk up to the window, this time clearly gazing out rather than at his reflection. Following the now faint snowfall outside in silence. Following along from the side, attention moving back to his reflection at what almost felt like force. Mind so occupied by him it felt impossible to focus on the weather outside. 

You felt almost on edge with how much you wanted to tell him, let him know of what you thought about him to get him to tell you more. It felt almost as if something in your chest stung each time a good moment like this was spent in silence. 

Which was why you almost jumped when he began to speak, not turning around to do so, but nevertheless. “I understand you have your fair share of curiosities about this. But allow me to be selfish, and have you without burdens. And if that by itself is a burden too heavy to carry, you’re not obligated to stay. Know, you are respected even then.” Capitano’s familiar voice spoke, this time for longer than you’d heard during this entire time. Leaving you slightly shaken for a moment, though for an odd reason the air didn’t feel heavy. As if air itself had paused to allow you this conversation. 

And it stayed that way as you walked behind him, hesitating for a moment before placing your forehead against his broad back. Arms sneaking gently around his waist, lose in their hold as your eyes closed. You took a deep breath, mind ticking to form a response. Feeling Capitano tense for a mere moment in the hold before his muscles eased once more. 

Normally, no matter how many walls of protection you shattered from around him, he didn’t seem to react to anything. No matter if he was wearing the helmet or not. A part of you wondering if the corrosion was a sort of a mask itself. 

“I’m not going anywhere. But I don’t want the way I see you to be written on your epitaph. Let me in, make this easier.” The words coming out in a whisper loud enough for him to hear, but not disturb the usual silence. 

A low chuckle escaped Capitano, a part of him amused by the plea. But nevertheless taking it seriously, knowing you’d meant it. “You’re more hopeful than I am,” he replied with a hum. Placing his hands over yours, against himself. Pressing them together lightly, as if hoping that was an answer enough. Aware that it wasn’t, but using it as a way to ask for more time. 

He feared he’d overstep a boundary of sorts, if he told you of his thoughts on a deeper level. He didn’t wish to put them on your shoulders, protecting you from himself in a way. If that was one of the only things he could do for you, not expecting anything from you in return, ever. 

The squeeze from his hands made you lean against him more heavily, a gentle sigh escaping. Not bothering to feel frustrated, not at him. The curse wasn’t his fault, what’d happened to him wasn't his fault and he was in no way obligated to ever let someone so close as he’d allowed you. So even the smallest of actions kept you close to being carefree, in the sense that you didn’t fear that there was no way to help him. There was, and you’d allow him to show that path to you on his own terms. 

[tinartss]

(5.1 spoilers) the mastermind behind the sabzeruz festivities

[sgrimp]

Capitano face speculation

[lumimochi]

poor ororon, he's a child of divorce

[a-person-in-the-rain]

Mom Dad pls stop fighting T-T

[peatchoune]

grief recognises grief

[mayobedo]

just kiss already

[the-last-butter]

Grunkle Capitano and his little grephew(?) kaeya

[the-twilight-sword]

ceremonial bladework

[c6scaramouche]

The Six Heroes of Natlan

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

dainsleif 🤝 capitano

"i failed to save khaenri'ah" when literally no single mortal, even with godlike-power, could do it alone

[yumenosakiacademy]

"In the name of the Pyro Archon, Haborym, I declare the Night Wars underway!"

5.1 || The Ritual of the 6 Natlan Heroes

[avnasace]

its really funny to me the difference between the older archons and the younger ones, because we have:

raiden ei who even without her gnosis kept a perpetual near-uncrossable storm raging around her nation and executed a harbinger seemingly effortlessly. also she was downright scary cold as the shogun puppet, still the archon with the coldest aura imo.

nahida used the power of the gnosis and dreams to help free herself, save her nation, purify the literal tree of memory, erase her creator and help bring down a self-made god and harbinger using another gnosis. also fended off another harbinger with words and a transaction and a threat.

focalors and furina spent 500 years carrying out a plan through sheer strength of will and a gnosis alone, which shattered a divine throne, threatened the heavens and returned their power to a sovereign, leading to focalors dying for her people and finally freeing furina from her curse.

mavuika lost everyone she knew and held dear, returned from death, beat the strongest (?) harbinger in a fight even not at full power herself, rescued us from the abyss, cracked the bloody sky itself open, and fended off an abyssal invasion with her skill, her people and her gnosis, even at the possible cost of her own life.

meanwhile zhongli and venti are just chilling in their respective regions drinking wine and shit... the eldest archons basically gave up their gnoses to the fatui willingly, and theyve been all but bystanders since the start of the story! they purified a dragon each, and zhongli saved xiao, but other than that they just retired sjdjsjxk its kinda hilarious

[tamiyne]

anatomically incorrect capitano

[justlookatthosesausages]

Same, girls, same

[artby-mld]

I’ve been so obsessed with these two since Natlan’s release, maybe kinilani nation continue to thrive 🙏