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bigmantiddys · 1 year ago

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synopsis: Scaramouche, a former boxer, is struggling to make ends meet when he finds out that his estranged kid, (name), has entered into the world of robotic boxing using their own custom-built robot.

Scaramouche: purple, Nahida:green

Warnings: Scaramouche as your dad. Cussing. Light angst? G!N reader. Based off the movie, "Real steal." Characters my not be cannon. Word count: 4.2k (I got a bit silly 🤭)

A/n: this is a Real Steal AU with no other that Scaramouche! This took me forever with no motivation.

In the near future, humans have grown so dependent on technology that boxing has become a strictly automated sport. All fights are now done using robotic sparring partners, which are controlled by the fighters from outside the ring. The sport has become so popular that it's now televised all over the world, and the best robotic boxers have become celebrities in their own right.

As you was walking with Nahida, who was a friend of your father's, you noticed that she was a unique individual. She seemed to have a special place in my father's heart, and you could easily imagine him speaking highly of her.

"I'm Nahida," she said with a warm smile as she greeted me. "I'm pretty sure your father told me about you. (Name) right?"

You immediately felt a connection to Nahida as she spoke your name, and you was excited to have the opportunity to spend time with someone who was close to my father. Her mention of his name brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, as though you was in good hands with her.

As you walked with Nahida, you noticed a large metal garage in the distance. It was almost like a warehouse, filled with scraps and pieces of metal scattered around. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and wonder as you made your way towards it. When they drew closer, you couldn't help but ask, "What's with all the metal? I know my dad was in the fighting business for a while. Do you guys make robots? I didn't know you guys were into robot boxing!"

Nahida smiled kindly at your questions and replied, "Well, that's exactly what we do here. This is an underground robot fighting league. We create robots that are designed to fight each other for entertainment. It's much more popular than human boxing, and it's just as thrilling to watch and much safer for the fighters."

As Nahida and I approached the garage, the sound of punching and grunting grew louder, echoing through the space. The smell of metal and oil hung in the air, making me feel as though I was in a completely different world. When we finally arrived at the door, my excitement to see inside only grew stronger.

I reached for the door handle, eager to push it open and see inside. With a loud, creaky sound, it opened just enough for us to squeeze through. Once inside, my eyes scanned the room, taking in the sights and sounds of someone practicing with a punching bag. The sounds of chains rattling and punches landing echoed throughout the garage, creating a tense atmosphere that I couldn't help but find myself drawn to.

"Hey, scaramouche! We're here!" As Nahida let out a loud, echoing yell, the punching sounds came to a sudden halt in the large, empty garage. The voice of a man could be heard, calling out from what sounded like the other side of the space, "Hold on Nahida, I got to clean myself up!"

You and Nahida After walking through the large, empty garage, I began to investigate my surroundings, taking in the various sights and sounds. As I walked with Nahida, I spotted a large metal closet on the other side of the space. It was a huge, imposing structure with a sense of mystery about it.

Curious, I made my way towards it, my hand running along the metal surface as I walked. When I finally arrived, I began to search for the handle, hoping to see what was hidden away behind the doors.

Finally, you found the handle and gripped it tightly with both hands. With a heavy creak, the metal doors opened slowly, revealing a big, tall, blueish gray robot. My eyes widened with excitement at the sight, and I couldn't wait to explore further.

"Wow." You whispered to yourself, Moving closer to the robot, you ran your hands along its metal surface, feeling the cold, smooth texture of the metal under your fingertips. As you explored the robotic body, you couldn't help laugh how it was kinds ugly. It's face was a bit missed placed and it's eyes where two different sizes.

As you were carefully exploring the metallic body of the robotic figure, you became lost in thought, your mind drifting to a place of sheer wonder. Suddenly, you were snapped out of your musing by a loud, ominous gear-grinding sound, and you looked up in time to see the robot coming to life.

As the robot turned on and began to move towards you at a fast pace, you let out a shrill scream and stumbled backwards, your legs failing to find purchase on the slick floor. You fell hard, landing on your back with a loud crunch, your breath knocked out of you by the impact.

The robot continued to move, its metallic feet striking the floor with a heavy thump as it advanced. As it drew nearer, you could see that the robot's face had taken on a menacing, almost sentient appearance, its eyes glowing with a red light that seemed to pierce the very depths of your soul.

You were still recovering from your fall, your body shaking with fear, when you heard a deep, hearty laugh. Turning towards the source of the noise, you saw a short, pale-ish man with a peculiar appearance. He had indigo hair that covered his ears, and his eyes were rimmed with bold red eyeliner.

You looked on in shock as the strange man stood next to Nahida, both of them shaking their heads and apparently trying not to laugh. The man saw your distress and put a hand on your shoulder, his touch oddly reassuring. "It's okay, kid. It was just a joke," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I didn't mean to scare you."

As you stood there, trying to process what had just happened, you noticed Nahida had gone straight into mom mode, wagging her finger at the man and telling him off. "Don't you lie to me, Scaramouche. I know you did it on purpose!" she declared.

Scaramouche, who had been standing there with a somewhat sheepish expression on his face, looked up at Nahida and sighed. "Okay, okay, you got me," he said with a mischievous grin. "I couldn't resist messing with you a little bit."

You couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight of Nahida and Scaramouche bantering back and forth, and you started to feel a little more at ease. You turned to Scaramouche and thanked him for the laugh, even though it did almost give you a full-on heart attack.

"No problem, kid," Scaramouche said with a wink. "I'm always here for a good time. And if you ever need any help getting over that scare, just let me know. I've got some tricks up my sleeve that could help."

You stood up off the ground and brushed off your clothes. You then held you hand out to Scaramouche. "It's good to finally see you dad Given that you never took the time to come see me." You said sharply.

Scaramouche looked surprised by your words, but he took your hand and shook it firmly. "I'm sorry. I know I've been distant, but I promise things will be different now,"

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment at his words, the memories of his absence and neglect coming back to you. You pulled your hand away from his and stepped back, the anger clear in your voice.

"It's not just that, Dad," you said sharply. "You've never been there for me, not when I needed you the most. All you've ever done is leave me alone to figure things out for myself. It's like you don't even care."

You swiftly brushed off the topic as you didn't come all the way here to yell at your dad. You were sent by your mother and stepfather because you had gotten into some trouble and they wanted you to be sent to your dad for him to deal with you. It wasn't the way you had planned to meet your father, but you were determined to make the most of the situation nonetheless.

You turned to Scaramouche and asked, "So, this robot, what's his name? Won any matches?" Scaramouche shook his head and replied, "Wouldn't you like to know, dork. His name is Ambush, and no, he hasn't been in combat yet."

You looked up at your dad and rolled your eyes. "He looks like a piece of shit. He's all rusted up, dad," you said, your tone showing your impatience with the whole situation.

Scaramouche bristled at your words, his expression hardening. "Ambush is a work in progress, and he will be fully restored in time."

You glared at your dad, but knew better than to push your luck. "Fine," you said, crossing your arms again. "But if he's so great, then why haven't you put him in combat yet?"

Scaramouche sighed, clearly annoyed by your attitude. "Because he's still a prototype, and I want to make sure he's ready before I put him in harm's way. Is that clear?"

Scaramouche shook his head, clearly frustrated by your attitude. "I didn't ask you to like him," he said. "I just want you to show some respect."

You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything more, realizing that your dad was not going to waver from his stance. You watched Ambush carefully, still not fully trusting of the robot, but decided to reserve your judgment until you saw him in action.

You turned to Scaramouche and asked him, "Hey, how are Ambush's controls? Does he know the commands?"

Scaramouche nodded his head, and as he did, you could see the pride and enthusiasm in his eyes. "Yeah, he knows some. But he doesn't have shadow mode yet. We're still working on that."

You couldn't help but feel disappointed that Ambush didn't have shadow mode yet, but you weren't surprised, given his rusty appearance. Despite your reservations, you were still curious to see what he was capable of. As Scaramouche walked over to a desk with tools and a headset, you followed him, eager to see what he had in mind.

You were eager to see Ambush in action and asked Scaramouche if he could show you some of the commands. He nodded, and together, the two of you walked over to Ambush.

Scaramouche put on the headset and said loudly, "Right-hook uppercut!" You watched in amazement as Ambush responded to the command, first throwing a quick jab, followed by an uppercut that was so powerful it sent a wave of dust and dirt flying from the floor.

"Hmm, not bad, dad," you said with a tone that sounded slightly impressed. Scaramouche felt a wave of pride wash over him as you spoke, and he couldn't help but beam with excitement. "You know, I'm just good like that," he said with a grin, his ego clearly inflated.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky attitude, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration for the skills he'd displayed. You were impressed by the fact that he was able to bring Ambush to life and had created something so impressive, even if it was just a prototype. "Well, that's cool. I've been planning on making my own," you said, crossing your arms and trying to show off. Scaramouche looked down at you and put his hands on his hips, his cocky grin clearly showing. "Well, that's cool. How come you haven't yet?"

You immediately felt defensive and a little bit embarrassed. "Well, I don't necessarily need to have tools or money to make one. And my mom won't let me," you admitted, sheepishly.

Scaramouche let out a chuckle as you glared up at him, and you felt a little bit annoyed. "What's so funny?" you asked him, crossing your arms.

He just rolled his eyes at you in response. "Your mom never was into this kind of stuff, you know? She always thought it was a waste of time," he said.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words. "Really? She always told me that you were always blowing your money on boxing."

Scaramouche's face shifted from amusement to annoyance, and you could see it in his eyes. "Let's talk about anything else other than me and your mother," he said with a demanding voice.

You couldn't help but feel a little bit curious about why he was getting upset and decided to walk closer to him. "Why? Is she right? Did you only care about fighting and the robots?" you asked him, wondering what had caused the sudden shift in his mood.

Scaramouche walked over to you and got close to your face, his eyes glaring. "Listen, kid," he snapped at you. "I'm not talking about this anymore. If you have a grudge, it's not my problem. It's your own fault that you were sent here for your own stupidity," he said, his voice dripping with anger.

You felt your heart quicken as you saw the rage in his eyes, and you took a small step backwards, trying to put some distance between the two of you. You weren't sure what had caused this sudden turn in his mood, but you knew that it wasn't a good sign.

You rolled your eyes at Scaramouche's words, feeling your anger rising within you. You wanted to reply back to him, to tell him how you really felt, but you knew that it would only make the situation worse. So instead, you just pulled away and said, "Fine, I'll shut up."

As you walked away, you felt Nahida step in and take your hand, offering to show you where you were going to sleep. You were grateful for her kindness and her willingness to help, and you gladly accepted her offer.

You and Nahida walked off together, leaving scaramouche behind. You felt your shoulders relax a little bit, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

Nahida put her hand on your back and led you out of the garage to a staircase, saying, "Just up the stairs and the 2nd door to the left. If you need anything just let me know alright?" You felt grateful for her kindness and nodded your head,

Nahida watched you walk up the stairs to your room, making sure that you were safely inside before turning to talk to Scaramouche. She lifted herself onto the side of the trailer and sat down next to him, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"So," she said, her voice soft and low. "How are things between you and (name)?"Scaramouche didn't look at her, instead his focus remained on the headset in his hand. "Things are fine," he said bluntly.

Nahida raised an eyebrow. "Fine?" she asked, a note of skepticism in her voice. "That isn't what I saw."

Scaramouche let out a heavy sigh. "It doesn't Matter," he said. "Besides, I'm not here to talk about my relationship with my kid."

Nahida didn't back down, but she felt a sense of respect for him. "Okay, then what's on your mind?"He took a deep breath and sighed heavily.

"Things with my kid, just aren't going the way I had hoped. They've got a lot of anger and grudges that they aren't willing to let go of. And that means that we're not going to be able to work well as a team."

"The kid is going to learn one way or another to shut up.” Nahida listened carefully to Scaramouche's words, her mind racing as she tried to come up with the right response. She couldn't deny that there was some truth in what he had said, but she also knew that there was more to the story.

"You may be right, Scaramouche," she said thoughtfully. "But you have to remember that (name) hasn't had a dad to teach them the things they need to know. They've been stuck in the city with their mom and step-dad, and that can't have been easy for them."

Nahida knew that Scaramouche had his own struggles, and she didn't want to invalidate his feelings or experiences. But she also knew that he had a responsibility to his child, and she wanted to make sure that he understood that.

"I know it's not easy," Nahida continued. "But as the adult in this situation, it's up to you to set an example for (name). That means being patient, understanding, and supportive, even when it's difficult.

Scaramouche let out a heavy sigh, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over him. "Fine," he said, looking up at Nahida.

Nahida smiled back at him, a warm and caring smile that made his heart swell. "Now that's the Scaramouche I know. You've got this."

Nahida nodded, feeling happy to see him making progress. "I think that's a great idea. And don't forget to let them know that you love them, too. That's the most important thing."

Scaramouche signs and rests his head in his grease stained hands. “Ah, you're right Nahida.” Without missing a beat, Nahida jumps off the trailer with grace and lands softly back on the ground. "I know!" she says, giving Scaramouche a big smile.

He looks up at her, his expression a mix of frustration and amusement. "You don't have to rub it in," he says, rolling his eyes.

Nahida laughs, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. "I can't help it if I'm always right," she says, her voice full of playful sass.

Scaramouche shakes his head, but he can't help the small smirk that lifts the corners of his lips. Nahida's sense of humor always manages to catch him off guard, and he finds himself enjoying the banter more than he'd care to admit.

With a shrug, he turns back to his headset, but not before casting a last glance at Nahida as she takes her leave.

With a heavy sigh, you make your way to your room, the familiar weight of your small bags weighing down on your shoulders. You push open the door with a gentle creak, careful to keep the noise to a minimum. As you step inside, you're immediately struck by the stark contrast to the busy bustle of the outside world. The room is barren, save for a small bed, plain white walls, and a single window.

"Well, this is something," you whisper to yourself as you step inside, taking in the blankness of the space. "At least I've got a roof over my head," you add, trying to remain positive.

You set your small bags down on the floor, careful not to make too much noise. The room is already quiet, and you don't want to disturb anyone. As you take a seat on the bed, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You had hoped for something a little more cozy and personalized, but you'll take what you can get for now.

You sit there for a few moments, taking in the silence and the emptiness of the room. It's not what you were expecting, but it's all you have for now. You'll just have to make the most of it and hope that things improve in the future.

You stand up and walk over to the small desk, taking in the few personal items that have been left behind. On the desk, there's a small collection of photos and mementos. Among them, there's a picture of you as a baby, snuggled cozy in your mother's arms. Another photo catches your eye- it's of your mom and dad together, smiling at the camera.

As you look through the pictures, you start to feel a twinge of emptiness in your chest. You're not used to having so little to distract you from your thoughts, and the pictures only seem to magnify your feelings of loneliness.

Among the photos, you spot a picture of you and your dad playing boxing. You recognize it fondly, remembering the playful banter and punches that you and your dad used to exchange. You pick up the picture and hold it close, reliving the moment in your mind.

As you stare at the photo, a small smile creeps across your face.

You remember throwing a few gentle punches at his cheek, and he would dramatically fall to the ground, pretending to be knocked out. You can't help but smile at the memory, laughing a little at the comicalness of it all.

Your dad was always so sweet like that, always finding ways to bring joy to those around him. He was such a loving and caring father, always there when you needed him the most. You miss him dearly, and the thought of never being able to hold him or speak to him again brings tears to your eyes.

The memory of that day when you were sick and your mom spinning you around, chanting that you were the champion, makes you feel comforted and loved. You can't help but smile as you think about that moment, your mom's words of encouragement filling your heart with happiness. It was a time of joy and love, and it's a memory that you'll always cherish.

As the knock on the door breaks your train of thought, your heart races a bit. You hurry to put the picture back on the deck and shuffle back to the bed, wondering who could be knocking on the door.

You clear your throat and take a deep breath, preparing yourself. “Come in!” you shout, your voice a little shaky.

As the door creaks open and Nahida enters the room, your heart skips a beat. You try to play it cool, but you can't help but feel a sense of excitement. Nahida's presence is like a breath of fresh air, and you can't help but feel drawn to her.

She sits down beside you on the bed, her warm smile and kind eyes making you feel instantly at ease. "Ahh, I'm fine," you reply with a light-hearted tone. "The old man should be the one to worry about."

Nahids chuckles at your joke, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know you're doing great, (name)." she says with a reassuring smile. "You're a strong person, and you'll get through this."

As you ask Nahida why your father didn't come for you, your voice shakes with emotion and despair. The tears you try to hold back finally release, and you feel relieved to let the tears flow.

Nahida looks at you with concern, but she knows not to interrupt your flow of emotions. Instead, she sits beside you, waiting for you to finish.

As you talk about how your mom took you back to the city, you can't help but wonder why your father never came for you. You feel angry, confused and hurt, and Nahida can see it on your face.

She reaches out to hold your hand, and you feel the warmth of her touch soothing your troubled mind. "I don't know why he didn't come for you," she says softly, her voice calming and comforting. "But I know he loves you, (name). And I know you're strong enough to make it through this."

As Nahida rubs your back, you feel a sense of comfort and warmth. The familiar feeling of her touch is reassuring and comforting, and you feel grateful to have a friend like her by your side.

She sighs and continues, "Your dad fought over your custody hard, but your mom just won. He tried everything to get to be near you, but it just wasn't able to happen."

"Yeah, I'm sure it wasn't because he spent all this time working on robots that are junk," you snap, your voice filled with anger and bitterness.

Nahida nods and looks at you with sympathy. She knows how painful it is to feel abandoned and betrayed by a parent, and she can understand the frustration and anger you must be feeling. She continues to rub your back, hoping to provide some small comfort in the midst of your pain.

“I could make better robots than him.” Your comment about how you could make better robots than your dad makes Nahida hold back a giggle, and you know it's only a matter of time before she cracks. You're used to her sense of humor and the way she can always make you laugh even in the toughest of times.

"If your dad hears you talking like this about Ambush, he might just have to fight you," she jokes, and you can't help but smile. You know your dad is extremely passionate about his robots, but the truth is that he's just not very good at making them. He spends hours working on them, but they always end up breaking down or malfunctioning in one way or another. You can't help but feel a little frustrated, knowing that he could be doing so much more with his time and energy.

Should I continue this? Please help me 💀🙏

#genshin impact.#scaramouche #light angst #comfort #Real Steal #dad Scaramouche #Nahida

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blueparadis · 4 months ago

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this is just spectacular. love the picturesque image that flashed in my mind while reading the first few paragraphs of war , ruins. and capitano meeting you on battlefield is sure yummy for me. the tension, the bonding, the attraction it's just so beautifully done. i felt like I was walking in thin ice while reading their interactions. I'm so glad i came across this .

A Healer’s Blunt Teeth - Yan!Capitano x Healer!Reader

(Pt 2 here)

In your homeland, the nation of war, healers are highly valued, highly sought after. This, however, does not grant them autonomy. Traded, won, and bought. That has been your life thus far. Now though, you’ve fallen into the possession of a man you know will never lose a battle.

cw: societal-typical captivity, Yandere-esc behavior, background death, non consensual touching/kissing, sharing a bed (romantic, but not sexual), consensual relationship, brief use of the word ‘master’ until Capitano shuts that down, time skip.

2.8k words

~~~

The sun was relentless, on the battlefield. Glaring down from the horizon, it was blindingly bright. It’s heat was so palpable it warped the rocky terrain around you. Your face, back, legs, all were drenched in sweat. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst part was the smell of the fallen bandits cooking under it.

You choked back a sob as another waft of the scent passed you. Rotting, seared. The battle was over, but didn’t dare to move from the spot behind a jagged rock you’d taken. Quietly, you cursed to yourself, “stupid, fucking—stupid. Gods, archons, fucking, idiotic—”

Idiotic team leader, idiotic fucking team. The scouts were supposed to make sure backup wasn’t within range, the talkers were supposed to intimidate them into to fork over their supplies, and the front liners were supposed to not fucking die should a altercation begin.

Apparently none of them did their job, because the moment swords were drawn, one of them sent a signal to a larger group of Fatui a ways back—the moment their backup arrived marked the start of the bloodshed.

They cut through your group with far too much ease. Trained. You didn’t dare peek out from your hiding place, but you listened to the ‘shirk, shirk, shirk’ as each bandit was double-tapped.

You bit your bottom lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, as footstepped creeped closer.

As a healer, you’d never been afraid of defeat. Even ones that had the entirety of the group you were with dead. But those defeats came at the hands of other Natlan people. Those were people who would spare the healer, finding better uses for you than death. The Fatui? No such promise. Surely they had their own, and in turn, you held no use.

The air was tense, silent, except for your stifled breathing and the click of the rifle as you struggled to load it. You swore internally, fumbling with the damned thing, before you heard a click.

You froze. The click was not from your gun.

“Drop it.” The Fatuus barked. You did so, weapon clattering on the ground, raising your hands in surrender, you kept your head dipped low. Unsteady breaths spilled from your lips.

“Please.” You begged, you weren’t a threat, you prayed they knew that.

One grabbed you, roughly, forcing you to stumble along as you were dragged into the blood smeared slaughter grounds. The sun, glaring in your eyes, made it hard to see. Eventually, the Fatuus shoved you, making you fall to yours knees—which sunk a little into the blood soaked mud under me.

The Fatuus said something, which you didn’t hear between your heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat pounding in your ears. It wasn’t for you—too formal and professional. You lifted your head—

The largest man you’d ever seen. Well, probably a man. Towering, with a helmet that looked like a shark’s metal maw shrouding his face in darkness. The blood pounding in your ears intensified. He was looking at you—he was looking at you—

You dropped your head down immediately, terrified of the man you’d been tossed before. Their leader, undoubtedly. It was a short lived reprice from his fearsome figure, as he soon grabbed your chin, dragging you to your feet and forcing your eyes to meet his void—

“You aren’t a bandit. You’re too scrawny, not toned, and you can’t load a rifle. You are for some sort of utility.” He tilted his head to look down over your body, before his eyes locked onto yours again. “Am I correct?”

“Y-yes—yes sir.” Your chest shook with every heavy breath. “I-I’m their healer.”

“Hm.” He said simply. The hand clasped around your throat and jaw twisted slightly, moving your head and body as he pleased. You let slip a sharp whimper, but didn’t dare say a word. He looked over you, appraising you like one would a horse or a fine good. Trying to determine your value.

“In the Natlan wilds, healers are usually bought, traded around between groups.” He lifted your head a little higher exposing your neck. What was he looking for? “Or taken, when a group died to another. Just one thing from which a victor is entitled to take. Hm. I wonder where you’ve been, healer.”

Too many places. From the moment you showed an innate ability for healing. Traded, won, bought off, defected to. Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you as you met his eyes.

His mask hid all but the slightest trace of blue eyes and a sharp, but you swore you could see the glint of sharp teeth as he dropped out, letting you collapse onto your knees in the dirt.

He turned to his soldiers, with a booming voice yelled; “Kill any left alive, take all supplies of theirs you find.”

Then, he turned back to you, voice quieter, but pleased. You hadn’t moved an inch from where he dropped you.

“What do you think of the cold?”

~~~

Capitano was your new boss. Not the Fatui—Capitano specifically.

You stayed in his tent during the day, and slept in the corner at night. It wasn’t like you were told to sit there, but you’d rather not risk punishment for asking for a bed. You weren’t sure how cruel the Fatui were, how cruel he was.

Besides, it was familiar. Sleeping at the foot of your latest warlord. A decoration when you were not working. Like a fancy vase, or an exotic fur blanket.

He came back to the tent one night, the troops reeling from a small battle. You didn’t know what against, only that he took a seat on the side of his bed, undoing his armor, and turning to you, silently beckoning. You approached, sitting beside him on the bed, beginning to heal his wounds.

You wondered how many had seen under the armor. He was strong, toned, and monstrous. Scars etched out of his back held veiny black scars that had to be from the void, his teeth, at times, seemed shinier than his blades and twice as sharp. His eyes…

Oh his eyes.

There was nothing wrong with them. Not visually, but…

You shuddered as you felt them on you again, your muscles threatening to lock up. Heal, right, you needed to heal him. Don’t disobey, don’t refuse, don’t show fear.

“Calm down.” He commanded, and you suddenly realized how your limbs were shaking.

“Apologies, master.” You took a small breath, forcing your hands to move steadier across his ribs. A gash, probably from some rifthounds. They’d been hunting the abyss deeper into the mountains.

“Hm.” He said simply.

He never showed any pain as you fixed him, despite healing—against most people’s assumptions—being no pleasurable experience. You wondered if he even staggered when the beast cut through flesh. You wondered how many he killed before one landed the lucky shot.

Scars faded, having curled up into themselves until they dissapeared, you pulled your hands back. You were on his bed, on your knees as he sat on the edge, legs planted on the floor. You were practically under his arm, in order to gain access to his ribs, but you didn’t move away, and wouldn’t. Not until he dissmissed you.

“Done?” He asked, voice even. Gods, did he even feel any of it?

“Yes, master.”

“Good.” He inclined his head slightly. A thanks. You, nervously, lips parted slightly, looked up to him, taking a second to glance at his maskless face. Was… was he going to dismiss you, or?

He met your gaze, and this time you could not stop your limbs from locking up. You felt like a rabbit, with the eyes of a wolf locked onto you.

He lifted a hand, his fingertips abyssal, dipped in black ink. Gently, he cupped your cheek. The little gasp you gave was one of fear, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Once again, he considered you, tilting and moving your head as he liked. “You’ve done well.”

If you could speak, you’d thank him. Call him master as the others you’ve served prefer, maybe bow your head. But no. Something in you, needed desperately, to remain very, very, still.

“You’ve served me well, for weeks, now. Not a whisper of what I look like among my men, not a peep of disobeyal from you. You haven’t so much as asked for a bed. I must wonder what has happened for you to be so… tamed.”

You said nothing.

“I think I could take you to the most beautiful place in Teyvat, and you wouldn’t dare ask to step outside my tent, instead awaiting my own permission. Hm.”

He tilted you head to the side, exposing your neck. This time, you began to shake. You’ve seen his teeth at times, they could tear your head free from your body—

“Captain?” You pleaded.

“Shhh. I’m not hurting you.” He whispered, you felt it more than you heard it, his hot breath across your skin. “Remain good and you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

He… kissed you. Your brain almost short circuited when his lips dipped down to your neck. It was gentle, even when sharp canines nicked your skin.

Slowly, your body relaxed, and he pulled you closer, he kissed your neck, like a lover. A reverent one. Before you knew it, you were sitting on his thigh, whimpering as he placed a hickey high on your neck, one not able to be hidden. Between your beating heart and his… affection, he stopped for mere moments, not to breath or take respite, but instead to murmur soft nothings, “good,” “thank you,” “my healer,”, before he planted another kiss somewhere new.

His attention continued on for far too long, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself, or where this was going.

“Master…” you said, panting, it took everything in you to not bury your head in his shoulder and bite your lip. You felt deeply embarrassed. This wasn’t the first time a member of the people you’d been claimed by paid… special attention to you. But it was

“Captain. You will call me captain.”

“Captain.” You forced out, softly. “Can…”

He waited, not kissing your skin as you figured out how to work your tongue. It would better, right? To be with him than against. A healer alone is doomed. You thought for a moment, before quietly speaking.

“Can I kiss you too?”

“Yes.” He growled out, far too fast. A little aggressive, but, okay—you lowered your head, planting your own kiss on his neck, as gently as you could.

He groaned a bit, the vibrations of it tangible against your lips. “Bite down.”

For a moment, your brain short circuited. What?

“Bite.”

Well then. Slowly, nervously, you sank your teeth into his skin.

His hand cupped the back of your head—archons you swore there were claws on them—and pressed your head a bit further down, forcing you to bite down harder.

The sound that forced its way from his throat was guttural, not quite a growl, but deeply animalistic and satisfied.

“Good… healer. Good.” He huffed out. The hand left the back of your head, and you took that as permission to release the crux of his neck from your teeth.

You couldn’t help but be shocked at the sight you left. A perfect set of teeth marks against his neck, little beads of blood dotting it. If you hadn’t seen it yourself a few times, you wouldn’t be sure he could bleed. At least, bleed red. He held himself like a god among men, and his soldiers seemed to put him on a similar pedistool.

Your mind circled back to his previous praise. Good. You did well, he was happy with you. You wondered if you would be allowed to sleep in his bed tonight. You wondered if he’d let you refuse.

Realizing he’d been silent for a time, you glanced at him, cold, icy eyes glittering behind lax eyelids. He was watching you.

Your chest was heaving despite the little effort it took, but his breathing was strangely calm, rhythmic.

You felt a hand run through your hair, you closed your eyes and bit your lip.

“It’s late. Sleep in my bed, should you like.” He said simply, and you opened your eyes. His hand was still in your hair, and you’d never felt so calm in his presence.

“Alright.” You spoke, the sound barely a breath.

You slept in his bed that night, his arm around your midsection. You felt like the woman in a painting with a name you forgot. She lounged within a lion's den, resting her head against one’s chest, sleeping beside an apex predator.

~~~

Capitano’s time in Natlan was coming to a close. And in turn, yours was as well.

You laid lazily on the strategy table, your head and chest slumped forward into your arms. Under you, a map of Teyvat, with various pins and marks. The path home. Capitano had been pouring over it even after his generals left, marking it every once in a while, or muttering to himself. You’d been waiting for him to finish for hours now.

For all his animalisticicity, his libido was strangely low. Even after months of his physical attention—kisses, bites, sharing a bed—it took you initiating for him to grant you anything. You were happy for this, you supposed. But it did make him difficult to manipulate, unlike many other men who’d oblige after you puffed out your cleavage and bit your lip.

So, you had to resort to other methods.

“Captain… I’m tired.”

“Sleep then. I’ll carry you back when I finish.” He didn’t look at you.

“At the table? Darling…”

“You were the one that wanted to come to this meeting.”

“Yes, the meeting. Not the… what is this? Were the plans your generals made not sufficient?”

“I’m merely going over them again.”

“Alright.” You weren’t getting what you wanted. Not yet. “Perhaps I should walk back to the tent.”

His body shifted slightly, an action that on him, was like the moving of glaciers, heavy and lumbering. “You stay by me.”

It was a reminder, a weighty one. You did not have to be his lover, but you were his healer, taken by right of combat. The only right that mattered in Natlan. He held dominion over you either way.

You did not have to be his lover, but god was life easier that way.

“Sorry.” You sunk back into your arms, feigning just enough sadness and remorse to make him uncomfortable, even if he was visibly still as a mountain.

“You know you are not allowed to move through the camp alone.”

“I do. I just forgot, the last few chieftains I served didn’t bother overseeing my location or sleeping arrangements.” You lied. They did. Very closely in fact. You were a goddamn healer by blood, very expensive in the country of war. You slept at their feet or in their beds, sometimes in chains. But such facts did not serve you in that moment. “This… supervision is new to me.”

He sighed, setting down his quill. “I suppose this is done. We can return to the tent.” He moved around the table, coming up behind your chair before sweeping you into his arms. Hook. Line. Sinker.

“My legs function, Capitano. I assure you.”

“They did not seem to this morning.”

“I’m a healer, I can deal with some strained muscles.” You bantered back.

“Oh, so me bringing you breakfast was simply a ploy of yours?”

“Of course it was, surely you realized.” You grinned into his shoulder, taunting. “And healing takes time, imagine what the soldiers would say seeing me struggle to walk, coming out from your tent?”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, I said I could walk.”

“I wonder, do you ever accept the fact you may not get what you want? Or must you claw at me until I indulge you?”

“With walking?” You grinned, finding a stance you could sink your teeth into. “Are you afraid I may run?”

“Do you think you could escape?” Capitano met your question with one of his own.

You hummed, eyes closed with a soft smile, not bothering to indulge him until he answered you first.

Your eyes shot open as the warm metal of his gauntlet tilted your head up by the chin. He looked over your neck, scarred with the symbols of his love, and gave a content, “Hm. No.”

You rolled your eyes, a little insulted. “I could escape if I liked.”

“Of course, my healer.”

You pouted as he let go of you, your face falling down into his shoulder again.

“Fear not though, my healer.” His voice had a rasping, growling edge to it, making your body shiver in the Natlan heat. “There will never be anything to run from.”

~~~~~

Just a little thing! Hope y’all liked it <3

#cw dark content #genshin impact.#capitano.

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