#And who ends up being a Harbinger

[oneknightstand-if]

Any chance that we’ll get to hate on Elaine of Corbenic in game 🥺👉👈

Well... if she ever becomes plot-relevant, I suppose it's possible.

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[luvuomi]

fatui zuha with mentor balladeer is slowly becoming my favorite thing to write hehe

[dutybcrne]

Since taking part in the Tsaritsa’s service, Tartaglia is quite adamantly against being called ‘Ajax’. The name reminds him too much of the person his parents still mourn and wish he was, plus it really doesn’t suit him as much anymore, with the way he’s making his own name for himself. Tartaglia is his preferred form of address, Childe the second. But never Ajax.

[fatuismooches]

Hihi! I love your fragile!reader with Dottie series, I was wondering if you had any plans to ever write smth in which reader finally heals? Since you've mentioned it a coulple of times how both reader and Dottie are a chaos duo that would be a menace to the Traveler.

This is not a request by any means! Just genuinely curious👀👀

Yes i am!! I have a request for fragile! reader starting to recover and get better and I'm definitely planning on writing it soon :3 We had enough angst, time to be happy again! I'm very excited, the idea of them being sidekicks again makes me💓💓

[beloveds-embrace]

╰┈➤ A Harbinger’s Claim

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest, yandere capitano x reader

yan!capi x soldier!reader who used to idolize/adore him? 👀

Specifically, you used to be a black serpent knight who worked under him. From the very first day you met him, you could not help but admire him; such a strong, powerful man- worthy of being a commander, worthy of being loved and respected. Your crush on him, your own commander, had been visible to any and all that cared to look. And that included even him, as well. 

Though he never quite returned your feelings. all of your attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Your commander did not care for romance, and did not care for you beyond you being a knight under his command. Still, you persisted and tried your best again and again to earn his praise and affection- through always training, keeping spare food from your own rations for him, willing to do any and all tasks. 

And then, Khaenri'ah falls, and you get injured and cursed to a painful immortality. It's devastating, it's cruel and painful and you end up separating from your group, including your commander- never knowing what happens to him.  

Five hundred years pass in resentment and bitterness, then a bone-deep exhaustion and now... 

The wind howls over the desolate, forgotten battlefield, carrying with it memories of long-lost battles and fallen comrades. You stand among the remnants, staring at the tattered banner of a past era. The centuries have been cruel, not just to the land, but to you. You don't know why you came back here, yet you can't bring yourself to leave just yet. 

Your legs ache- a dull, persistent pain that has been your constant companion for centuries. The curse has worn you down, body and soul, until all that remains is a tired will to survive. You sigh and shift your weight, leaning heavily on the stone slab you were using to remain upright. There’s little left to fight for now. Just a hollow existence.

Then, you feel it- the heavy presence of someone behind you. It’s not the first time you’ve felt a presence like this, and for a brief moment, a flicker of recognition stirs in your chest. You turn slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion, and there he is. Once, he'd been your commander. Now, he is a Fatui Harbinger.

Capitano.

The man you once idolized, the commander you adored. But that was so long ago, so distant it feels like another lifetime. Now, the sight of him- tall, imposing, clad in the black armor- stirs nothing inside you but weariness. His mask is as dark and unreadable as the void, hiding every part of his face, giving no hint of the man beneath. The commander you knew is long gone, replaced by this Harbinger, cold and unrelenting. Even if certain traits still exist within him.

“You’ve come back,” you murmur, your voice barely louder than the wind.

His head tilts ever so slightly, the black mask making it impossible to see his eyes. Yet you can feel his gaze locked on you, weighing you down even more. Once, you would have given everything for such attention.

“I’ve come to claim you.” he replies, his voice deep and resonating from behind the mask. The sound of it is steady, almost indifferent, yet it carries an unsettling weight of finality. 

You don’t move, don’t resist. The fatigue that has plagued you for centuries sinks deeper into your bones. “Claim me?” you echo softly,  chuckling. “What’s left to claim, Capitano? There’s nothing here anymore. I hold no adoration for you anymore."

The mask remains still, impenetrable, yet his presence grows more suffocating as he steps closer. “You were always mine,” he says quiet yet resolute. “And you still are.”

You sigh, not out of fear, but of sheer exhaustion. The energy to fight him, to resist, just isn’t there anymore. “I’m not the same soldier I used to be, commander. That person’s long gone. You should leave me here, where I belong.”

But Capitano doesn’t leave. Instead, his gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist, firm but not painful. You don’t pull away. You simply look at him, weary and resigned, watching as he brings out a ring, dark as his armor. You don’t ask why—your mind too clouded with fatigue to even care.

He slides the ring onto your finger, his voice low and steady. “This is your place, with me. You’ve wandered for too long.”

You look down at the ring. It's cold. “It’s been centuries, Capitano,” you say, your voice a whisper. “Do you really still think I belong to you?”

He pulls you closer, until you’re pressed against his chestplate, the harsh cold of his armor making you shiver. His masked face hovers above yours, unreadable, but his grip is firm, unyielding. “I never stopped thinking it,” he murmurs, voice deep and possessive. “You admired me once- more than anyone. That devotion is mine to keep.”

You don’t fight him. You can’t. The years have taken too much out of you. “That was a lifetime ago,” you sigh, resting your head lightly against his armor. “I’m not sure I even know who you are anymore.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark certainty. “You will stay with me. We will be wed, and you will never be alone again. Your suffering ends with me.”

For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the heavy weariness wash over you. Part of you wants to resist, to push him away. But the truth is, you’re tired- so tired. The centuries of pain and solitude have worn you down to the point where even the idea of fighting feels like too much. Capitano’s grip is cold, but it’s steady, and in that moment, you almost feel… relieved. You don’t want to admit it, but the thought of someone else taking control, of someone else carrying the weight you’ve been shouldering alone, is tempting. Especially if it's him.

“Is this really what you want?” you ask, though you already know his answer.

His arms tighten around you, drawing you in even closer. “It’s not just what I want,” he says, voice low. Unbending. “It’s what will be.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease, your body too tired to struggle, too worn to protest. You glance up at the dark mask once more, seeing nothing but the void where his face should be. And yet, for the first time in what feels like ages, you don’t feel completely alone.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Snezhnaya,” he answers, his tone firm and absolute. “My home. Where you belong.”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning into his chest, your body going limp in his hold. “I’m too tired to fight you, Capitano. I don’t think I care anymore.”

His response is unwavering. “You won’t need to fight. You’ll be with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

As he begins to walk, each step echoing the finality of your fate, you close your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion. The world around you fades, and all you can feel is his steady, unrelenting presence. The future, dark and uncertain, is no longer your burden to bear. So what if your freedom is to be taken away?

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” you murmur faintly.

“I do,” Capitano replies, his masked face tilting down toward you, his voice calm yet possessive. If he holds you any tighter, the claws of his armor would dig into your skin. “You’re mine. That is all you need.”

And as the cold winds of the battlefield sweep behind you, you let go of whatever fight you had left.

Part 2

[mochiwrites]

Grian is a hypocrite. He knows. God, does he know it. He’d never acknowledge that fact, however, would never admit to it. He isn’t exactly the type that goes around readily confessing his flaws, after all.

He had told Jimmy he wouldn’t restart the session if he died, right after he’d been knocked down a few lives. Grian said it without hesitation, as amusement spilled from his voice like it had been paint in a can that tipped over. It wouldn’t be fair, nor right, to restart the session. And if he restarted it for Jimmy, what kind of message would that send the others? It might become expectation if someone permanently died so early on.

He needed to be firm about it—even if Jimmy’s misfortune came from bad luck, things out of his control.

Grian can’t go giving out special favors. He can’t be biased.

He’s a hypocrite for it.

It happens on the mountain, right by the long staircase made of soft pink cherry wood. He doesn’t even notice at first, attempting to avoid his personal harbinger, a snail. Honestly, Grian didn’t mean for things to go this badly. As with most things with him, Grian thought it to be a silly joke. A hat tip toward a well known hypothetical query.

But in typical fashion, Grian overestimated his friends’ survival capabilities. With their own personal snails tailing them constantly, he watched as death after death rolled in, giggling over each one (unless it was Mumbo or Skizz).

Maybe by now he should know better.

“Who would make my snail invisible?! Who would boobytrap my snail like that?!”

Grian looks over at Lizzie, both flabbergasted and impressed, “That’s—that’s devious.”

The second he turns, it happens.

(Sandy domes under their feet, a ravine cutting right through their path. Mischievous giggles shared between them before they’re torn apart, the sound coming to an abrupt end.

With a shout he pushes his hand out, but to no avail. Yellow turns to red and all that’s left are their foot prints in sand, a pile of items below.

He’s left at the top, lips curling around the syllables of a name as hysteric laughter follows it, distress wrapping around it like a ring.

He never did manage to catch him.)

Grian is a hypocrite, because the moment Scar dies right in front of him, he panics. That invisible snail wasn’t Lizzie’s. It was Scar’s. He stops, breath cutting itself short on its own blade, body freezing itself in ice. He gets a second of eye contact with the man, seeing the shock and fear lacing his expression before he’s gone.

“Oh, Scar!” The outcry is loud as it crackles with distress.

This is it, he’s on his final life now. If he dies it’s permanent. No do overs. No restarts. No special favors. Scar will die. Grian can’t stomach the thought, can’t let it happen. He’s failed every other time and this world has only just begun. It’s too early. It’s… it’s not fair.

END THE SESSION. END THE SESSION! END IT. SAVE HIM. END END END END END END END!

Grian is a hypocrite.

Whether it be out of some sort of twisted and tangled guilt, or the lingering feeling of a debt to Death that never truly went fully repaid, he isn’t sure. There is no hesitation, just a natural instinct, an ingrained habit. If it were anyone else he’d let it happen, let the game run its course.

But his choice is obvious when it comes to Scar, even when he doesn’t want it to be. He’s always going to be drawn to him, always going to feel this pull. He’ll sacrifice it all, twist himself up in however many different contradictions he needs.

For Scar.

“The session is over!” he shouts, rapidly typing in the world chat for the others. He spams the message a few times in his hurry before switching to turn the wild card off. And he does it just in time, with Scar’s snail just a few inches away from the man. It disappears, along with the others, and a collective sigh of relief is released from those among them.

He feels Them watching, unhappy with their meal being cut short. But Grian doesn’t care. He never has.

“Man, that was a close one! I thought I was a goner,” Scar laughs over to his side, drawing Grian’s attention. “Thanks for the quick save there, G-man.”

Grian smiles at him, some small thing. “Don’t get used to it,” he returns.

There’s a knowing look in Scar’s now ruby eyes, and the sun on Grian’s hair feels warmer; heated, nostalgic. “Of course.”

He’s not supposed to play favorites, not meant to be biased. He’s not supposed to interfere to keep a player alive (something he made very clear to Mumbo and Skizz prior). But existing in a world like this without Scar feels wrong and near painful so early on. He couldn’t stand around and do nothing. He couldn’t just watch.

Not when it’s Scar.

Grian pretends not to notice the glance Jimmy throws at them, a brow raised. He’s been seen right through.

[genshin-impact-updates]

Solitary Balemoon in a Sky of Fading Stars

"Fate grants favors to no one. Only those who would fight it with every ounce of their being may earn the right to challenge it."

— Pierro, "The Jester"

◆ Name: Arlecchino

◆ Title: Dire Balemoon

◆ Head of the House of the Hearth

◆ Vision: Pyro

◆ Constellation: Ignis Purgatorius

To this day, Arlecchino still recalls that night when she was first appointed as a Harbinger.

Up the stairs and down the long gallery, with naught to see through the windows but a world of ice and snow without end.

The biting wind wailed loudly, now as mirthful laughter, now as somber farewell—

With a start, Arlecchino came to, the hallucinations of her memory mingling with the sounds of real-life conversation that surrounded her.

The hearthfire burned with vigor, its gentle warmth pervading the room, and its red light glowed on the children's faces, lighting up their innocent, unaffected smiles. If some uninformed passerby were to stumble in at this precise moment, they would surely mistake the scene before them for that of an ordinary, happy family.

But just as Arlecchino raised her steaming cup to take a sip of scalding-hot black tea, the clock began to chime — and within an instant, the laughter and cheer that filled the room were banished. The flames flickered so that for a moment the light faltered, the faces of all present cast in somber expression.

Placing her cup back down, Arlecchino stood up, and in a calm, measured tone, called out several names:

"Chapleau, you're with Lyney. Retrieve the required intelligence. Foltz, you and Filliol are on guard duty. Stay back and tend to the Hearth..."

"Yes, 'Father.'"

Without a redundant syllable, nor a hint of hesitation, they answered as one.

Not long after, the fire had dwindled and the house fallen utterly silent, with nothing to be seen but a single shaft of infiltrating moonlight, peeking through a gap in the curtains upon a cup of gradually cooling tea.

[quimichi]

₊❏❜ ⋮ WEIRD FETISHES ⌒ - MDNI

warnings: weird fetishes, don't read if you're uncomfortable! Picked the most "normal" or tame ones-also, this is my view and visions of those fetishes

summary: Some rare, unspoken fetishes the characters have.

characters: genshin guys + harbingers x F!Reader

a/n: this is uhhh, interesting? I was bored, wanted to try something yk. I couldn't fit some characters into different fetishes, but you can idk--

Autassassinophilia

Being in life-threatening situations

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Many say that the thrill of being caught is already hot enough, but it's not enough for him. He wants the adrenaline rushing through his body constantly. It's almost addictive...no, he is addicted already. Fucking you standing, so close to the edge of a cliff or at the edge of a building is good...but not enough. Having you choking him, or him choking you, being close to pass out, is not enough. Giving him head while driving, fingering you while you drive...is.not.enough...so what will be? ♡ Childe Wriothesley Scaramouche Capitano

Cardiophilia

cardiophiles are people who are, quite simply, in love with hearts. they enjoy and are aroused by the sight, sound, and/or feeling of the heart/heartbeat.

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Whenever he holds your hand, his fingers can't help but wander to your wrist, feeling youe pulse. The beats inder his fingertips feel so intimate. Knowing your heart is beating, beating for him is almost to much to handle. And whenever you two cuddle and he's the little spoon, he'll place his head on your chest, listening close to your beating heart...oh how lovely you sound. Your heart beats so strong against his ear, he can literally feel it. ♡ Ayato Baizhu Dottore Albedo Venti

Candaulism

Exposing one's partner or images of their partner to others.

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Oh, how he loves you and your body. Your pretty little head and soul. He's so sure many others will love you just the same (but never as much as he will). He takes pictures of you, has you as his wallpaper even. Lockscreen too! You know your tits are out, cum covered with your tounge sticking out. You're also aware your ass with his dick stuffed in your cunt is also somewhere in his gallery. And many many more. And he just fucking loves to show it off. No one is save, not even the mid 30s guy sittong beside him in the train. The nice grandmother buying her groceries. He'll accidentally or intentionally shove it in their faces, that you belong to him. And he belongs to you. ♡ Lyney Kaeya Itto Heizou

Gynephilia

Females or femininity, regardless of one's own sex or gender identity

❕️ EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

He'll pay you to get your nails done, you pick the color, shape, length, accessories, anything you want. You want make up too? Have his card and have fun, be wild, be bold, make a statement with that pretty face. No make up at all? Baby, you're such a beautiful woman regardless. You wanna have your hair done? Sure thing, tell him when the appointment is he'll drive you there. At the end of the day all of this and so much more is just for one purpose, to fuck you. He'll pull that hair, watch the mascara run down your pretty cheeks. Taste your lipgloss on his lips. Watch your nails looking stunning around his dick. A goddess like you, should step on a man like him. ♡ Diluc Pantalone Aether Kaveh Al-Haitham Pierro

Aquaphilia

A sexual fetish that involves people swimming, posing, or even drowning in water.

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Dw he won't drown you-. You just look so elegant in water, how it hugs your body. How it makes your skin shine and glimmer, the droplets looking like little diamonds carefully placed on your skin by the hands of god himself. Not to mention how beautiful you look in your swim wear...It already happened so often you stopped counting after 20. You two having sex in water. Wheter its in a pool, lake, river or the ocean itself, he can't help himself. Heck, even you in your bathtub is a sight to behold. And if he had to be honest...maybe the bathtub is his favorite. Cause no one will see and hear anything, and it feels way more closer to you...♡ Neuvillette Freminet Kazuha Dainsleif

Had no idea what to do with these- Cyno Gorou Thoma Tighnari Xiao Xingqiu Zhongli

[tnsophiaonly]

Uh just a thought:

cw: yandere, cussing, bad grammar, scara being scara, Childe is Childe, fatui, blood is mentioned at least 1 time

Imagine a Y/N\Reader who does everything for their family, so like your brother/sister/mother/father anyone you love!! got super sick and the cure for it is expensive as hell! (8,765,432,765 mora)

So you work for the fatui to get better expenses, you were skilled enough to immediately be recognized by your superiors—ahem, harbingers— and the first one to recognize you was Childe. Childe is just so down bad for you, he loves fighting with you, anything that gets your attention, if he could, he'd always have you by his side when he does missions.

And there's this thing, your fellow friend (who's been to the fatui far longer than you) in the fatui had a gambling habit and would make bets. One time they talked about giving away millions of mora to whoever gets to be The Balladeer's secretary and survive for 3 months.

You, eager for the mora, you immediately did too well, acted like you were obsessed with him to amuse him, did so many things to the point of getting Scaramouche's attention, he finally made you his assistant.

Of course Childe is pissed as fuck. How dare this midget get you before him??!!

At first Scara was just humoring your fake obsessive behavior just for entertainment, telling himself he'd throw you away soon and laugh at your fake reactions.

3 months passed and Scaramouche started humoring another fatui agent in an attempt to get you to break and snap and make you jealous, you used that opportunity to slowly part ways from him. He took a whole week to notice how you were basically disappearing from his life. You didn't leave the work though, you did the remaining paperwork and missions before disappearing.

Scaramouche who slowly notices the difference in his life when you left, you left a great impact in his life. This new fatui agent he humors doesn't do as well as you do, they keep fucking up to the point that Scara doesn't find it funny anymore. Yeah, he admits, your perfectionist personality helped a lot in his work, you were boring yeah, but at least you got the work done! After yelling and punishing the fatui agent for fucking up again, Scara grits his teeth and walks out to cool himself down.

But that's where he saw you sparring with Childe. Childe is out here feeling gleeful that you were finally back to him, while you just went back to him because you are an agent under him.

The sparring ended with Childe winning, you almost won, but Childe was stronger as expected, he walked up to you and almost gave you a kiss before you pushed him away, shocked. Childe frowns, he keeps you caged in his arms, he doesn't care about the dirt, blood, snow, and sweat that mixes when he has you in his arms, what matters is you.

Scaramouche, gritting his teeth in anger and getting more frustrated and annoyed than ever—why is that obedient pet of his with Tartaglia?— he's mad.

You felt that cold and electric glares sent to you, you nudge your head and saw Scaramouche watching the both of you hug with a blank face, fffuck. You were not supposed to be seen by Scaramouche.

And Childe notices it too, he smirks and holds you closer, nuzzling his cheek on your hair.

Scaramouche was about to rush into both of you and demand an explanation, but why does he care? He isn't supposed to care about something like this! He always said he could replace you anytime, but he never said you could replace him.

I want to add more harbingers to this thought, imagine Columbina and Arlecchino 😻

[allfearstofallto]

"Tell Me You Love Me,"

Yandere! Male x Fem! Reader

FT: Childe and Scaramouche

TW: yandere, forced married au, violence, mentions of punishments (rice kneeling and starvation)

Childe

With your eyebrows knitted together and furrowed, lips pressed together in a tight smile and cheeks just ever so slightly puffed out, this is when Childe found you the cutest. Your smile was nice and he had an extra special place in his heart for the way you looked as you sobbed, but nothing could ever top your pout. It was to the point where he'd do things to entice it out of you, intentionally teasing you to see you puff up in that oh so adorable anger.

His cold, thin finger reached out and gently poked the soft cushion of your cheek, sinking into the plumpness of your face. Even when you slapped his hand away, he couldn't help, but to swoon at how cute you were. You couldn't harm him, not with those weak little punches, but you sure could try. And he absolutely loved watching you try. You seldom touched him of your own accord, so what was the harm in enticing you to do so? 

“I'm not in the mood to deal with you, Ajax,” You muttered, voice barely above a whisper. You spat his name like it was filthy, even crossing your arms afterwards as if to show you were deathly serious. He knew that you were, you had every right to be, yet he still sat next to you, so close his thigh pressed against yours. 

He placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest in an unwanted embrace. It was a move that earned him a slap across the face from you. A painful one at that. Not unbearable of course, more akin to a cat scratch. Yes the cat hurt you, but who could stay mad at such a cute animal?  You on the other hand, he could see you holding your tingling palm, trying to hide the pain you were feeling. You were able to hit him because he let you, but an untrained fighter such as yourself was no match for a harbinger.

“Now look what you've done,” he could feel his cheek growing a bit hot from the strike, “You've gone and hurt the both of us.”

You shot him a glare, a very harsh one. If looks could kill he would've died on the spot. But he was immune to your gaze. More than immune to it actually, he reveled in the fact that you looked at him that way. That your pretty face could make such an awful expression. That the hatred you felt for him, causes your features to contort into something almost ugly, but beautiful to him.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such a liar!” You raised your trembling voice, eyes welling with tears. Watching you go from anger to falling apart at the seams. He was the only person who could make you feel this way and it made him feel a sense of pride.

“What'd I lie about?” He teased. He looked up with a finger pressed against his chin, playfully beginning to ponder. If your hand wasn't already aching from the slap, you would've punched him, right in his smug little face.

“You said I could go,” you words were strained through tears that wouldn't stop cascading down your face, “I did everything you told me to. You promised!”

He snapped his fingers in recognition, “Oh! That's it! You wished to go to the lantern rite!”

The sight of him pretending was making you even more angry. But you couldn't let it boil over any more. Childe would only allow so much before he started to get upset, finally showing you how gentle he was being with you before. Few people even got the chance to place hands on him and live.

“You said I could go,” you repeated again slowly. 

And he did. You slaved away, doting on him like the perfect wife. Doing everything he wanted. You were at his beck and call, acting on his every whim. Just for the chance to touch the soil of Liyue again, to smell the air, to taste the food…to see your family. They went to the lantern rite every year, and you hoped that that tradition didn't end just because you'd vanished. All you needed was a glimpse of their faces, no talking necessary. Even though you knew they'd want to see you, the selfish part of you was okay with them thinking you were dead or gone for good. That way they wouldn't risk butting heads with the Fatui, or worse, actually managing to meet with Childe.

“I was hoping you'd forgotten about that,” Childe spoke, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

You merely scoffed. You wouldn't be that nice to him without incentive. Yet after the initial agreement, the trip was never planned, luggage wasn't packed, carriages weren't called. As the days grew more and more near, you worried about the long trek to Liyue from Snezhnaya. You'd miss the Rite if you left too late, yet there was no urgency on his side of the deal.

He hummed for a moment, thinking with that face you hated so much. It meant he had more up his sleeve. You knew better than to trust a harbinger to withhold their side of the bargain, but like an idiot you still trusted him.

“I have one more request,” he began.

“That's not what we agreed on!” 

“Then I guess you just don't want to go?” 

You crossed your arms in surrender. There was that pout that he loved so much. Those puffed up cheeks and furrowed brows. He could eat you up with how cute you were, practically begging for his attention.

“It's easy, I promise,” he leaned as close to you as he could get and you resisted the urge to slap him again, “Just tell me you love me.”

You rolled your eyes, realizing that this was where he was going with it. He always asked you to do it and you always refused. You didn't love him. You hardly even liked him. You despised him actually. Found him disgusting and deplorable. He was less than human in your eyes, more like filth under your feet. But your love for your family outweighed your hatred for him.

“I love you,” you said so monotone, you almost sounded like a robot. Despite your lack of emotion, his face seemed to light up with glee.

“Again,”

“That's not what we agreed-”

He cut you off before you could finish the thought, “Again.”

“I love you,”

“Say my name too,” his voice was breathy, hurried even. You'd never seen his face such a deep shade of red before. It didn't even cross your mind that the Ajax that teased you so much, the Ajax that forced you into a marriage and so many other things, was able to blush. He hushed you again before you could open your mouth in protest, “Say my real name.”

You let out a sigh, “I love you, Ajax.”

His smirk was disgusting as he sat next to you in glee, like the words were sinking into his heart. Childe just sat there, riding the high of feeling your non-existent love before he spoke again calmly.

“I'll have the carriage packed tonight, we leave in the morning,”

Scaramouche

You are Scaramouche's life blood. Truly what keeps him going. His heart which ticks instead of beats, ticks for you, his cold body, warms for you. Although, he'd never admit something as embarrassing as that. Nor would he tell you that he longs for your presence at his side constantly. That he rushes through his assignments, while being noticeably irritable and unapproachable, just so he can make it home to you. Where he'll pretend that he's not head over heels in love with you, and scoffs at your every word. Ignoring you, while simultaneously sticking to you like glue, even with your protests.

He watches couples as they smother each other with affection, kissing each other as if nothing else matters, embracing one another like they're physically unable to tear themselves apart, and he feels something so new to him. Jealousy? No. It's more akin to envy. He wants to do those things and maybe even more. He wants to be the obnoxious couple who can't seem to get their hands off of each other, he wants you to feel the withdrawal from his touch, as he feels from yours.

These are all hopeful thoughts, weary dreams even. He can force you to pretend, but he can't force the feelings. Even if he tells you to look happy when he touches you, there's a lack of light in your eyes that he can't even punish away. You'll never truly feel the way he wants you to. Not now, at least. But there's a wishful part inside of him that claws at his chest, hoping that someday you'll develop those feelings. As he watches you across the parlor, your focus more on the calligraphy that he told you to do than anything else, he knows that that day won't be soon.

You look so beautiful while trying to perfect the brush strokes. Ethereal even. Your skin glows under warm candle light, and even though you try to appear emotionless in front of him, the face you make when you concentrate always finds its way out.

“I'll be leaving on a mission soon,” he finally says into the silence.

You raised your head from your work, looking him in the eye before you speak. You truly are obedient, just as he trained you to be.

“Safe travels, my Lord,” you reply with that saccharine sweet voice, but he knows there's no meaning behind it. No compassion, no joy, no hope. You'd be happy if he died out there, still feeling the same indifference towards him that you do right now. It'd actually make you happier.

His mind shifts back to those couples he'd always see, the ones that were stuck to each other like glue. They'd beg and cry for the other not to leave, holding their hands to pull their lover back in a display of desperation for their time. Yet here you sat. Indifferent. Uncaring. Unloving.

“Don't you have anything else to say to me?” He questioned while that part of him that was still holding on to hope was fighting its way out. If you just told him to stay he would. If you told him that you loved him, he'd come home even quicker. He'd be more brutal, just for the chance to slip into your embrace. Yet only confusion met his question.

“I'll see you soon?” Words which were supposed to be spoken as a gesture of love, were coming out as a question. You didn't want to see him soon, nor did you wish for him to travel safely. Your lack of care has him seething, but only his regular, nonchalant demeanor showed on his face.

“Would you rather kneel on rice or go five days without food?”

Your head shot up when you heard his question, his voice cold and serious. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loudly, you wondered if he could hear it. He didn't have to to know how tense you were at the idea of the punishments, he could see it in your expression. Your look of indifference was quickly changed to fear, large doe eyes threatening to fill with tears.

“Neither, my Lord,” you stammered out, “I don't think I've done anything worthy of punishment.”

And you hadn't. You’d done everything he told you to, exactly the way he wanted you to. Yet his ego and constant need for more of you, to claim you as his entirely, to swallow you whole, it made him angry. He'd given you a better life than you'd ever had before, he'd give you anything you wished for if you'd just open your pretty little mouth to ask, and all he wanted in return was your affection. Your attention. Your love.

“I'll ask you again, even though you know I hate repeating myself,” his red framed eyes glared down at you. Even at his short stature, he suddenly felt mountain tall, dwarfing above you in a way that made you want to sink into yourself, “I'll be leaving on a mission soon, do you have anything to say to me?”

You gulped down your saliva, feeling the way you had to force it down your throat as more pooled in your mouth, “Safe….safe travels, my Lord,” you stuttered. It was the same thing you always said, the same thing you were told to say. He left on trips often, but the script never changed. You were to wish him safe travels and see him off at the door. Yet here you stood before him, a quivering mess as he glared down at you, growing angrier at what was presumably the wrong answer.

“You must want to be punished,” he hummed while looking disinterested.

The pain of rice digging into your knees or the hunger pains of starvation, they were both punishments you knew well. Neither was one you wanted to experience again. After such hard work to act the way he wanted you to, you'd gone a long time without being punished. But the way he was looking at you struck fear in your head, your hands trembled as you desperately began to plead.

“I don't understand, my lord, please tell me what I'm doing wrong,”

“You really are stupid,” he scoffed, but there was a flush forming in his face as he realized just how overboard he was going for this one little thing. Something he'd never asked for before. But the thought was eating away at him, the hope was clawing out of his body. Bashfully, he looked down at the floor, “Tell me that you love me…and that you'll miss me while I'm gone.”

Your tears were dried quickly and you slowed your labored breathing. A bit of anger was bubbling in the pit of your stomach, anger at the fact that was going to punish you over something so miniscule, anger you hadn't felt towards him since the very beginning of this all. Since the day he told you that you were going to be his wife, but it wasn't a question, it was an order. Your very first order.

“I love you, my lord. I'll miss you so very much while you're gone,” you wondered if he wanted a performance. You did your best to make the words sound genuine, despite the way you detested him and his finicky personality.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, his voice sounding almost hopeful. In his heart of hearts he knew it wasn't true, but that didn't stop the excitement from growing.

“Of course, my Lord,” you lied. It was a good lie though, seeing as it earned you a subtle smile upon his lips.

“I'll bring you back a gift from Mondstadt, for being so good recently” he whispered while lightly patting your head. But the enticing idea of a gift wasn't even enough to pull you from your fear. You'd dodged a bullet, but there were more to come.

[cynoswifey]

Cockwarming Genshin men

Characters: Althaitham, Kaveh,Cyno,Tighnari, Scaramouche and Kaeya

Warnings: NSFW topics involved

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Althaitham-

Althaitham is very busy as the acting grand sage most of the time leaving you to your own devices. But here he is looking real pretty reading a book on the couch . So what else can you do but palm him through his pants earning a glance from then finally unbuckle his pants and sit comfortably on his dick. Moments like these are Alhaithams favorite he gets to read a book while being in your gummy walls that provide him with such warmth that he doesn't want you to move. Oh but after hes done with his book you better believe hes giving you the fucking of a life time

Kaveh-

Kaveh has had his mind so occupied with designing something that's he has worried his pretty wife. There he is drawing up ideas while looking stressed. Why not be a good wife and give him a blowjob hm? He try's to focus on the drawing but the way his dick is hitting the back if your mouth is driving him crazy earning yourself a mouth full of cum and a fully erect dick. Go ahead and sit yourself on him. He won't last long like this soon his focus is completely on you.

Cyno-

During a late TCG game with Althaitham, Kaveh, and Tighnari at the usual bar. Cyno uses the excuse that there is no chairs to have you sit on his lap to which he moves your panties to the side and slips his dick into you. He claims it helps him focus on the game your glad the skirt your wearing is covering where you both are connected. Then Tighnari points out how your cheeks are red and ask if your okay while putting a hand on your forehead which like all your body jd warm. He assumes you have a fever and suddenly the night of TCG is finished... thank goodness right?? Nah Cyno is going to have is way with you when you both get home

Tighnari-

Tighnari had just shot his load into you it still wasnt enought though. Even if his mind is hazed with lust from his heat he knew you were tired. So he gave you the option to take a nap on his shoulder. And so you did with his pretty dick still inside you. It takes every fiber in his being to not thrust up into you. He is able to only last an hour before he grips your hips and begins to thrust into you. Waking you up from your nap.

Scaramouche-

You sat on Scara's lap. Actually he was the one who sat you there. He dragged you early to a harbinger meeting sat down unzipped his zipper, moved your panties to the side and sat you on his dick. The meeting started soon towards the end Pierro asked you a question. Mid way through your answer scaramouche thrust into you causing your voice to raise a pitch. No one asked questions about it. But Scara teased you about it while he stuffed you full of him after the meeting

Kaeya-

Kaeya had you bended over his desk while he took you from behind. You had a hand placed in your mouth to control you moans. You felt the familiar feeling of your oragasm approaching and so did Kaeya. But then there's a knock at the door. Keaya smirks sits down his chair and seats you on top of him slipping himself into you again. He tells the person to come in. The person is Jean and came to tell Kaeya something you could care less and had your focus on Kaeyas dick inside you. Kaeya answers Jean so smoothly your honestly surprised at how well he is. Eventually there conversation comes to an end and then Jean acknowledges how red your cheeks are and ask if your feeling sick. Kaeya does not you hear the end of it after that

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Reblogs likes, and ask are appreciated!

Thank you!!!

[flawseer]

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.

[dutybcrne]

Thinkings thinkings of Fatui!Kaeya have been reawakened in reviewing Arle's teasers/animations

[fatuismooches]

You love to give Capitano kisses on his helmet, the cool metal catching you off guard at first, but after doing it for so long, you have no reaction to it anymore. You came up with the idea as a compromise since at the beginning of the relationship he was incredibly awkward about you getting close enough to kiss him on his lips. Not because he didn't want you to, but well... there's just simply a lot of barriers to go through before you even get to experience the bare minimum of intimacy (kissing him.) Unfortunately, Capitano's not really good at communicating this so you'll have to take matters into your own hands as well. Even though he technically can't feel your lips on him, he can still feel your warmth and love coursing through him. The feeling is quite strange, he finds himself pondering it quite often.

(If you are someone who wears lipstick, agents may or may not have seen a few stains on his helmet. It is a bit entertaining to them that their general, who is always aware of his surroundings, was oblivious to this.)

Although he doesn't take his helmet off, he lets you reach your hand into his mask and feel his face, something afforded to none other except you. You love stroking his cheek as he sits in silent, basking in the unusual sensation. It always makes your heart race, being able to feel his rough skin, making your imagination run wild with possibilities - after all, you can't help but be a little bit curious about what he looks like - but in the end, it doesn't matter too much since you know his depth of love for you.

Capitano likes to entertain your silly requests despite his confusion. He's actually quite obedient to you and will fulfill your stupid requests without a protest, it's very funny. He will pick you up by letting you swing from his arm. He will open jars that you glued the lid on purpose with ease. He will let you braid his hair and patiently wait for you to finish your masterpiece. He will let you play with that chain that hangs around his helmet. He will let you (try to) pull him places and show him things while he listens with quiet and genuine interest.

It's obvious he's an actions-over-words type of man. Capitano likes to do things for you, but unfortunately, he's not very adept at certain tasks... he's meant for battle... so he leaves it to others to make your life easier. He never says he's the one who makes these things happen, no, it's unnecessary. Needless to say, he's also quite protective of you. But no one would dare to say anything about you unless they want to end up in a duel with the Harbinger.

Despite his large body, Capitano moves rather quietly, so you have probably gotten jumpscared by him looming over you without notifying you. He always apologizes but he keeps doing it. He just likes to observe you a lot, you always look too beautiful and focused for him to disturb you.

[globalrebrand]

SPOILERS!!!

I will say that Capitano rotting is questionable imo lore-wise considering that Pierro is a literal khaenrian mage who looks mostly normal and is probably older, and that Dottore does what he does being a doctor and all, that literally no one was able to prevent the physical degradation of the strongest harbinger. But all of it did give me an idea a kind of reverse Eros and Psyche myth.

Now that we know Capitano is a decaying beneath his armor imagine that you are a prodigious healer, and whether the fatui has kidnapped you to help him, or a member the house of the hearth who Arlecchino offers to tend to him, you become his dedicated healer who he falls in love with. You tend to him daily and in your healing sessions you've managed to slow and even regenerate some of his cells. You talk endlessly with each other as you treat him, learning all about his past. You don't even flinch when he exposes parts of necrotic tissue. From the first session you smile at him as if he is any other man, not a rotting abomination. Still he refuses to show you his face, but he checks the incredibly slow progress of his regeneration daily, waiting for the day when he can reveal himself to you. It's silly he thinks, he has no fears, but the thought of your rejection terrifies him.

You have been his diligent nurse for years, and there has always been an attraction on your end, but Capitano keeps a boundary up when you try to become closer to him. Physically at least, emotionally he's shared all, and you are his most trusted confidant. He's become so comfortable with you that he'll even let you tend to him in his sleep.

However, as your love for Capitano grows you can't resist the urge to unmask him during one of your night sessions. You can't really figure out how to get the mask off so instead, you carefully bring a nearby candle close to his face to illuminate the near magic darkness that enshrouds his features.

The first thought was that it wasn't that bad. The skin on his face his is blackened with corruption, warping the muscle tissue. But the 'rot' that you had seen on his body was far more advanced in its decay when you had started treatment.

You admire the features that remain, unfazed by the molted and peeling flesh. You become so lost in seeing him, that you don't notice as a drip of wax falls onto his gaunt cheek bone.

Capitano startles awake. It takes him only a second to realize what you'd done, he bats the candle out of your hand now leaving the tent in total darkness.

"How could you!?" He growls, ashamed. He rises to his feet and in his clambering his mask falls off entirely.

Calmly, you place your hands on his chest, you feel his heart beating wildly under you palm while the other snakes up to his jaw. Wordlessly you rise on your toes and place a chaste his on his lips.

You can't see the confusion on his face, but you smile regardless. Only saying, "I've waited so long to do that."