#health harbinger

[lumiidragon]

Drew Lepi, now it's Flo's turn~

Might do the other harbingers over time as well~ Up for suggestions~

[tthelady]

I definitely recommend giving this thread a read. It's genuinely very interesting and touches on several aspects of Childe's mental state

[allalrightagain]

Not to sound like I have Main Character Syndrome or anything but there are some weird themes and motifs going on in my life rn

[thedragonagelesbian]

kicking my feet thinking about someone going down in battle as the catalyst for durge!cyrus taking a tadpole & getting transfuse health

[meeeeeeese]

Looking for answers

The pact commander, after a nasty excursion to a demon infested mine, decides to seek out help from an... alternate source. It doesn't go well

(spoilers for EoD, what lies beneath, and fractals of the mist I suppose below the cut)

length ~ 1k words

Rugan was in a bad mood, sitting in a brooding silence in a cabin outside the Gyala delve. It had only been a few days since they’d had to retreat and come up with a new plan to deal with the demon in the mines and since then Rugan had kept himself busy with menial tasks; clearing out kappa, dealing with berserk miners, repairing haywire mechs, anything to avoid having to reflect on the events of the prior days. However, the large charr had run out of tasks and now sat cleaning his admittedly impressive arsenal of weapons. His trusty rifle and pistols had been cleaned and stocked with ammunition, grenades checked to be in working order and now he was working on polishing some of his backup weapons, those that were kept more as mementos than any serious part of his arsenal. An old standard issue Iron Legion pistol, a rusty priory dagger still glowing with unstable enchantments, Caladbolg… the shattered blade still brimming with vestiges of its former power. Rugan’s eye lingered on it for a moment before painful memories made him move on to the next weapon. After Caladbolg was a sword of strange make, made of stone and crystal. Enshrouded with darkness but glowing with a ghastly purple light, a fractal sword imbued with abyssal might. It was from the fractals of the mists of course, Rugan held up the blade as he recalled the memory of its acquisition. It was a reward, for the completion of one fractal in particular, Sunqua Peak. 

Rugan had always thought that Sunqua Peak was an odd fractal. A woman sits alone on a mountain, her grief stirring up the elementals into a frenzy. When fractal explorers come to calm her, she flies into a rage and attacks, once subdued she sits down, and the fractal ends, with no resolution. Each loop it was the same, her grief getting stronger and more volatile the deeper you go. But in the very deepest reaches of the fractals something… changes. Something new and utterly alien reveals itself, showing the truth. The mountain keeper, named Ai, was not suffering naturally. She was being predated upon by a darkness feeding on her doubt, sorrow, fear and... guilt. And with truth revealed, the demon could be defeated, and the darkness banished. Rugan considered what he’d recalled, the entity in the depths changed something, did something to render the demon vulnerable.

“I wonder… could I learn how to do that...?” He said to himself. It was a long shot, but better than sitting around doing nothing. Gorrik had told Rugan to get some rest but, maybe there was something he could do to help the demon expulsion investigation. He packed his things and set out for Lions Arch   

---

Rugan felt an uncomfortable vibration run through his bones and horns as the teleporter activated, Dessa’s crackly voice came through his communicator

“Locking on to Sunqua Peak.”

“annnndddd-“

“Engaging teleportation matrix, good luck”

Everything flashed a bright blue and Rugan felt the sensation of falling for a brief moment. And then his claws touched down on the rain-soaked soil of Sunqua Peak. He took a long breath as he felt a familiar heaviness at the edge of his senses. “good” he thought, it was here.

He walked forward, looking around for another sign of its presence. His function gyro, a little arial drone hovering above his head blipped and directed his attention towards a mote of crimson fire burning away, undeterred by the torrential downpour. There it was, the tell-tale sign that the Harbinger of Woe was ready to reveal itself

Rugan stood in front of the fire, braced himself, and said “Harbinger, I want to talk”

The world shifted. A darkness came over the fractal and gravity bent, ever so slightly, sending pebbles skittering towards the fire. Cutting through the proto-reality, an imposing figure stepped out of the nothingness. It was tall even by charr standards with armour like the night sky, planetary cataclysms visible in its vast bulk. Its face was hidden by a vicious spiked helm.

He clenched his fist, claws digging into his furry palms as the Harbinger’s aura flared to life and a wave of dread swept through him. It felt like… the Gyala demon, but less directed. Testing, not predating. He fought the urge to run away, to tell Dessa to extract him from the fractal and whisk him away to safety. He gritted his fangs and murmured to himself “NO. I'm a soldier. I Don’t. Run.” As if he was half reminding himself, half convincing himself it was true.

As Rugan worked up the nerve to speak, the Harbinger spoke, its voice was deep and loud, like the first rumblings of a thunderstorm.

“Again, you return. Your capacity for pain is… truly limitless. Have you come to take my challenge again?”

“No! No, not this time. I… I have a question for you.” Rugan replied. The harbinger stood silently, so Rugan continued,

“back in Tyria I’ve got a demon problem, down at the bottom of a mine there’s a demon gorging on a ley-line, possessing anyone it comes across, we’re having trouble expunging it. But your able to, right? It was by your power that the demon was driven out of AI, allowed her a happy ending. So, I need to know; how can I do that?”

The harbinger remained silent for a moment. Its gaze invisible beneath its celestial armour, but Rugan could feel its eyes upon him, watching, considering.

“well, if you’ve got nothing to say” Rugan said, tired of the silence “then I’ll be leav-“ he was interrupted by the harbinger speaking at last.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

“You assume that there exists some alternate hidden path to victory, that with some clever trick you can bypass the challenges ahead. But I have no such thing to offer you, the demon in that woman’s head was banished through supreme martial might alone. I merely… extended the loop”

“Your strength is… undeniable. You triumphed over my challenges after all, and through that strength you were able to save Ai. So, if you really want to defeat the demon in the depths, the question you should be thinking about is this; if you are strong enough to save others, WHY. ARE YOU NOT. STRONG ENOUGH. TO SAVE. YOURSELF?”

The harbinger’s last words echoed through stormy air of Sunqua peak. Rugan stood frozen, trying to find the words to respond

“I wonder if you’ll be able to puzzle it out. Until then, I’ll be watching.”

“w-wait, hold on-” Rugan managed to voice out as the harbinger of woe vanished in a blaze of celestial might, and then Rugan was alone on the mountain, his fur soaked by the pouring rain. He grabbed his communicator “Dessa, I’m done here, take me back.” Dessa’s voice came through “what, already? are you-“ “NOW” Rugan snapped back, and the familiar sound of the extraction teleporter starting up began to sound.

---

Rugan stepped out of the portal to the fractals, feeling the sun begin to warm his now thoroughly soaked fur. He was out of the Harbingers aura of dread but somehow, he still felt terrible. He began the walk out of Fort Mariner and towards the nearest bar. He had a lot he didn’t want to think about and, quite frankly, he really needed a distraction.

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

Brain Recharge: 3 Essential Rests You Need for Peak Cognitive Performance

I explain "Why Sleep, Mental Breaks, and Downtime Are the Secret Weapons Your Brain Needs to Thrive and Slow Aging"

Why Sleep, Mental Breaks, and Downtime Are the Secret Weapons Your Brain Needs to Thrive and Slow Aging Last year, I wrote an essay that truly opened some eyes — and I wasn’t surprised. Why? Because I’ve been there myself. When I was younger, I used to think that sleep and rest were luxuries, something I could sacrifice for the sake of productivity.  I pushed myself hard, ignoring the signs…

[hexastitchimera]

BORN TO BE UMBREON

FORCED TO BE SYLVEON

[plumingpoetree]

Onset of Illness

I can breathe,But with each breathUneaseSweeps through Guts twist and churn,Conscious thrums the chestOff beatAt every turn When empty,Hunger gnawsWith clawsThat painfully feed When bloated,Even the rot of despairClotsTo never weep And when breathless,Though gusts of airFlail piteously I can still breathe I can always breathe But the still in the airWaylays the mindDistills the…

[liinos]

Gonna be real yall I think the vets office is a tad traumatizing for me 👍

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ The Strong and The Feeble

(Il Capitano with sick reader / tw: general description of illness, coughing, or physical pain. sfw)

Imagine Il Capitano with a sick darling, one whose health is often at risk. Your condition has been chronic for as long as you remember since your well-being is susceptible to common ailments and pain. And yet, it never hindered Il Capitano’s admiration towards you. Instead, it only amplified his urge to shield and protect you.

Imagine the mighty Harbinger returning from a prolonged expedition, his strides cutting through the secluded snowy terrain to reach a quaint manor on the outskirts of Snezhnaya. The mere sensation of the crisp taiga air beckons him to yearn for the upcoming warmth of your arms. Capitano barely has a moment to enter the manor and hand in his coat to the servants when a familiar voice calls out – “Is that him? Is he home already? Capi…!”

Imagine Il Capitano opening his arms and rushing to scoop you, both in worry and longing to feel your body against him. It appears that today is one of your brighter days, as you allow your weary body to move forward and welcome him directly instead of remaining in bed, even when a retinue of worried maids are trailing behind you. But expending your energy is no longer a worry, as Capitano effortlessly lifts you in a tender embrace with his armored hands.

“My beloved, I missed you dearly… But you shouldn’t overexert yourself just to welcome me. Save your energy for me, sweetheart.”

But you never allow your mood to change along with your ailments. Bedridden or not, you always greet your Knight despite your conditions. He doesn’t deserve to feel any more worry from your demeanor than he already does when he is away at work. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano sees right through you and the lengths you go to conceal your coughs, troubled breaths, or fatigue.

Any day that Capitano makes it back home is a celebration. He misses you terribly, and his Fatui expeditions became a driving force to work hard for you. He’ll return home with rare herbs, expensive medicine, or anything that your condition might require. Even when he is on a mission abroad, his mind keeps conjuring ideas on what unique gifts and books he must search for.

Imagine how Capitano’s prolonged mission heightened his worry for you. Thus, once he's settled at home, no longer donning his armor, Capitano will personally step in to take care of you. His hand is always protectively sweeping over your forehead and hair, ensuring your temperature is in check. He'll often dismiss the servants so he can bring you hot beverages to ease your sore throat. Only after confirming you've taken your medication and are resting on fresh sheets will the typically composed Harbinger release a sigh and join you in bed.

“Dear, you just got home. You mustn't trouble yourself so. You know I can take care of myself if needed to… I'm not that helpless, Capi.”

Il Capitano would apologize, tighten his arm around your shoulder, and softly nuzzle his face to a tender kiss on your cheek. However, internally, he is sighing wistfully, because he knows that on sunny days there are looming shadows as well. Sometimes, your illness takes a toll on you, your voice becoming hoarse and your coughing more frequent. Moving or even lifting your head would cause a headache, but the Harbinger never backs away in such circumstances.

You can barely speak on those days. But even as you lay in bed Capitano can tell you feel guilty and try to dismiss his aid. You even try to conjure up a weak smile. A smile that brings the Harbinger to his knees, kneeling beside your bed and silently cursing whatever celestial fate allowed you to suffer so.

"Shhh... sweetheart. I know you despise it, but you must comply to drink this medicine. I will not let ailments win over you."

Imagine how Capitano would never trade any paradise for seeing you smile on the rare days that you feel better. You try to move around, dismissing any help from the servants. Capitano would step in, link a protective arm around yours, and take you on a stroll in the manor's garden. The imposing Captain would make sure his steps are slow and careful so you won't feel rushed. However, the opposite always occurs. Keen to use the most of your condition today, you keep rushing off ahead of him.

Imagine Il Capitano rushing after you gently, catching you before you accidentally trip or fall from your childlike sprints. With a single arm around your torso, he easily picks you up from behind. His tender warnings go unheard as you giggle joyously. A rare and merry sound for him.

If the Snezhnayan weather allows it, he brings a designated blanket to drape over your legs, ensuring your comfort as the two of you spend the entire morning outdoors. He’d hold you close, sharing tales of his battles and missions. But what’s the point of talking about work when you can’t even accompany him and all he does is fight for the sake of returning home – to you.

Who has the right to define what constitutes strength and weakness? Perhaps for some, physical prowess and overcoming adversity may epitomize the ultimate warrior, while the opposite rings true for the meek. Nonetheless, a certain Harbinger will argue against it. For even he weakens at the sight of your unwavering smile, whenever you are at your worst condition. Or when you muster the deepest courage to get up on your own instead of seeking help. Who is he to boast as the strongest person in Teyvata, when every day you fight to survive?

Hence, imagine the 1st of the Fatui Harbinger lowering his head in reverence for you. Despite your bewilderment in his manners, he seeks your embrace so he can hear that heartbeat safe and beating, praising each day he gets to hold you in his arms. -

[yandere-romanticaa]

⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.

You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?

yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.

The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.

The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.

From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.

"Blood red roses." The card said.

"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."

Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.

It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.

You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.

Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.

Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.

Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.

It was a promise, he had told you.

His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.

... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.

He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.

I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -

Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.

You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.

What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.

Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.

You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.

Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.

As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.

Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.

That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.

But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.

Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.

He was too clever to let it happen any other way.

It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.

Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.

💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.

[fatuismooches]

Dottore and his segments get a taste of their own medicine after giving you a job of your own. (In other words, you ignore their need for attention in favor of your work, they get pouty, just like you did.)

As of late, a peculiar sight had made its way into the lab. Actually, peculiar wasn't even strong enough of a word for the agents to use. They had nearly tripped over their feet once they saw the new area of their working quarters in the lab.

In addition to their Lord Harbinger's desk (that was shared amongst the segments depending on the day), there was now another desk on the opposite side of the room, and the cute decorations on it were quite noticeable. Photo frames and stationery. A comfortable and plush chair with a blanket that dropped over it.

... A plushie version of the Harbinger that laid on Dottore's desk, commissioned by you to motivate him.

(A side thought - the number of desks the Doctor had was something to wonder about. One in the lab, one in the office, one in the bedroom - no wonder things were always scattered around the place. But that was something for another day...)

And most importantly, you, Dottore's spouse, standing next to their Lord, rocking back on your heels nervously as he introduced you as their new co-worker.

—

It all began when you approached your husband with a very simple request.

"Dottie, I want a job!" You said with enthusiasm, smile as wide and proud as ever. The scientist paused his work and turned to look at you with a blank expression.

"... A job, you say?" You only puffed your chest out more at his confirmation.

"Yes, a job. I mean, being your lover is already a lot of work for my poor back, but I want to actually work with you! With your research and stuff, like the old days!" Your excitement was completely serious and were it not for your health, it would have been infectious for the scholar. Rarely did he ever meet anyone who was truly interested in his work. But of course, certain restrictions have held you back for a long time now.

"We've already been over this. My work is too dangerous for you," the Doctor sighed as he turned back around to continue whatever he was doing.

"I know, I know, but I meant other kinds of stuff. I've been thinking like... a desk job! It doesn't have to be anything dangerous! I could... sort papers for you? Oh, and you have one of those fancy stamps, right? I could stamp them too! I could rewrite your notes... ah, and the best part - I could help you write reports too! You always liked my essays, didn't you?" You were doing your best to provide Dottore with a convincing case, snuggling up against his firm back. Only another sigh escaped your husband, not really that convinced.

"Come on..." you inhaled his familiar scent, tinged with that laboratory smell that never seemed to go away, but somehow brought comfort to you. "I've been so bored lately... and lonely," you muttered the last part pointedly. "I just want some work to take my mind off things!"

Indeed, there was always limited entertainment and pastimes to occupy yourself with. It was especially boring on days you couldn't get out of bed, or when no segment could afford you attention...

"And you know what, I could give those agents of yours some writing tips, too!"

Yes, there had been many times his employees were not up to his standards, despite how many of them fawned over him (for some odd reason)...

"And I'll be helping you too! It's good for everyone."

Of course, you always felt rather good about yourself if you managed to help him, being the Second Harbinger and all...

"I suppose I shall give it some thought-" Before the man could finish his sentence you started squeezing him tightly while hopping in delight.

"Oh, thank you! So, when do I start? Do I get one of your huge desks too?"

"I didn't say yes yet, darling."

"Shh... we both know what you mean!"

—

And that was how you now clocked in at "work" every day with the agents (later than normal, but you had special privileges.) It was daunting at first for the poor souls, even the ones who secretly admired you from afar (being in the fan club and all.) Even though initially you were merely sorting papers, you were the most important person in that room.

However, soon enough, going to work in this dreary lab became a lot more cheery thanks to your sweet demeanor. Somehow, the atmosphere had become a lot less tense since the last time the segments visited.

The agents had little to no problem speaking to you like a normal person, after you had graciously given them tips on impressing the Harbinger.

"Psst..." you were hovering behind an unsuspecting agent, reading the report she had for Dottore, who jumped at your whisper. "You know, he might click his tongue if you give him that." Although her mask covered her face, you could see that half surprised at how you popped out of nowhere, and half agreeing with your words. Perhaps she felt comfortable enough to spill the situation to you.

"I-I am well aware of that," she deeply sighed, "but no matter what I write, my Lord always seems to be unsatisfied..." You patted her shoulder in sympathy. Having worked with Dottore since the Akademiya days, you knew very well of his distaste for certain things.

"Well, that's why I was hired, friend! To make his and your life easier! See, look here, that's a no-no, he wouldn't appreciate those details, mhm, but this needs to be elaborated on more, uh huh..." Of course, being the good spouse and employee you were, the report was converted into the best one that had ever landed on the Doctor's desk.

On your lunch break, they provided you with some juicy gossip about anything they could get their hands on (the fan club had long reaches, apparently.) Frequently you had to debunk things about Dottore... (the handbook was swiftly revised.)

Needless to say, things seemed to be going well. You looked happier. Motivated. Having new "friends" as your company (that still watched their mouth around you after a single glance from the segments.)

However... an issue arose after a while. One that seemed entirely stupid and impossible.

Now that you were so caught up in your work, when the segments finally had some spare time to come to you, they were... rejected. Yes, they had come to you, fully expecting your devoted attention and kisses that you always gave them without hesitation, but now turned away. (Even more embarrassing, sometimes in front of the agents who kept their eyes glued to their strange chemicals.)

—

It was Omega, of all segments, who was turned away first. The most confident and charming of the bunch left uncharacteristically silent. He had come up behind you and traced his hands against your neck, always being the one who had no shame in touching you. You only softly giggled at the sensation and caught his hand in yours.

"It seems you've been busy for a while, dear." In truth, it was mostly you seeking him out and not vice versa, but the segment hadn't seen you invading his office in a while. The space had gotten too quiet without you.

"Mhm! But I can't imagine how much work you do. My desk is nowhere as cluttered as yours," you smiled as you felt the segment kiss your lashes.

"What do you say to a break with me?" Omega offered, already knowing what your eager response would be.

"Nah, I can't right now."

...

Your words took a few seconds to process through his head.

"Pardon?"

"I have all this work, 'Mega, and other people need my help," you shrugged your shoulders as you swung your legs. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can spend some time later!" You kissed him on the cheek and pulled your chair in before continuing your work.

Omega, the greatest segment, was reduced to a blankly staring man who had been deprived of his lover's attention for the first time.

He was irritable for the rest of the day.

—

Beta was next, the poor thing.

You were always the one he blew off steam to, always willing to listen about his gripes and complaints, offering him consolation in the form of kisses and soft words.

However, you hadn't come to visit in so long, the segment was all pent up and now the agents were beginning to fall victim to him.

Fine then - he'd seek you out. Not because he needed you or missed you or anything of the sort. You were just... halting his progress with the lack of your presence. Yes, that was it.

And so the scientist, donning his grand pink bow tie, swung by your desk.

"So this is where you've been? How boring." Beta was not a segment that you'd want to do paperwork. He much preferred to be hands-on.

"Ah, Beta!" You brightened in delight at seeing one of your lovers. "I missed you!" At least you were always honest about your feelings.

... But to cut a long story short, Beta faced the same conundrum that Omega did.

Someone got turned into a floating Ruin Machine that day.

—

By now all the segments had experienced being turned away from work. Alpha's signature scowl had become permanent. Zandy was pouting the whole day as he missed his parent. Foxttore kept to himself with a pathetic sopping wet eye. His segments were fighting with each other inside his mind, a great nuisance.

All because you were too absorbed with your work to pay them any attention.

... The Doctor was now realizing that it sounded like a very familiar tune sung by you. So this was what you felt for days on end? Now, it was easier for him to understand why you were always upset if you were ignored too much.

Still, it was mortifyingly embarrassing that his segments were reduced to this pitiful state just because you rejected cuddles a few times. Regardless, it was up to him to solve the issue. After all... he missed you too. He wanted you to be around him more often again.

And so the Doctor made his way to his beloved.

There you were, all cozy on your seat as you sorted through some papers. Really, he had no clue you'd be this productive, to be honest. At least it was proof that your health hadn't gotten worse, considering how well you were handling this.

"Aren't you the one who kept saying to take breaks?" His voice made you jump a bit, having not heard him walk up.

"It's you, Dottie! I was wondering when you'd come around. And of course, I take breaks, Dottore. I have lunch with the other agents!" Ah, another party that's been hogging your attention.

"You know, this job has been pretty fun, Dottore! Everyone's real nice, we make jokes, I get to write about interesting things..." You continued to go on about the research and while usually he'd be intrigued by your findings, this time he had enough.

Dottore picked you up like a long cat as you squealed from the sudden grasping.

"What are you doing?!"

"You're coming with me," was his cut and dry response as he lifted you into his arms.

"B-But I have to work on the big report for Pantalone!" Dottore's eye twitched at the mention of the banker.

"Someone else can."

"But I-"

"I'm not listening to anything you say further," he plainly said as he walked with you cuddled into his chest as you gawked at him.

Could he be... jealous? A wee bit lonely? You kept your guesses to yourself as he eventually bought you back to his room and laid you on his bed, not even saying anything to you before sitting at his desk.

Did he simply miss your presence that much? You felt a bit bad neglecting your lovers that much. But to be fair, they kinda did the same... sometimes. You got up to console your silly husband, who was just a man in your hands.

"Hey... I missed you too, dear husband... but I had to make sure no one stole the title of best assistant from me!" Dottore only sighed at your foolishness.

Of course no one could ever replace you.

"I know you'd rather die than admit it... but don't worry. You're lucky I'm sensitive to your feelings," you teased as you kissed the top of his mask. "I'll pay more attention to you and the segments, before they cause another headache for you, love. You'll give me some vacation time off, right?"

You laughed at your own joke before Dottore pulled you into his lap, biting down hard on your neck.

—

"Beloved, would you care to join me in discussing your work?"

"You fool, they're obviously coming to my lab to activate a new Ruin Machine."

"But [Name] is supposed to play with me today!!"

"As if, they're far too busy to join you all with your silly games."

"You all will stress them out with this arguing. Now, why don't you join me for a cup of coffee instead?"

"Grr, gr gr, grr!"

It was good to be loved so deeply.

[avocad1s]

Trial By Combat - 4

Requested By: No One. Original Work.

CW: Post-SAGAU Imposter AU, Mentions of killing a divine being, kidnapping, drugging, manipulating people

Summary: Your health takes a turn for the better.

Note: 4.0 Archon Quest Spoilers.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five

It was only under exceptional circumstances that the harbingers would return to the homeland. If one of them managed to obtain a gnosis and further the Tsaritsa’s plan, a celebration was in order. Yet even then, it would be miracle for all to appear .

However when one of Tartaglia’s subordinates returned holding the newest edition from the Steambird, the Tsaritsa ordered all of them to return Snezhnaya.

The deafening silence filled the hall, encasing the walls with anticipation. As the pages were passed to the last harbinger, they were suddenly slammed onto the table before fluttering gracefully onto the floor.

“Focalors proves time and time again that she is not worthy of being an Archon.” Arlecchino spits. “I will go there and rip that gnosis out of her dead body.”

“Wait just a second.” Tsaritsa calls out. “Before we act, we must find out if their Grace is still alive. This paper gave no details of their condition.”

“Her Majesty is right. If their Grace is still alive we need to prioritize bringing them here.” Pulcinella adds.

Arlecchino scoffs, “I can do both. I’ll get the gnosis, kill Focalors, and get Their Grace.”

“That’s a bit ambitious. Don’t you think?” Pantalone questions, his voice as sweet as honey.

Alrecchino digs her nails into her palm. “This isn’t the time to pick a fight when Their Grace could be dying in the so-called Nation of Justice.”

“I agree.” The Tsaritsa begins, “Alrecchino will go to Fontaine but the Gnosis and Focalors are not the priority. Getting the Creator back to Snezhnaya is the only thing that matters.”

“—and if Their Grace is dead? What shall we do then?”

Everyone turns to stare at The Doctor. Although none of them wanted to think about the worst case scenario, it was still something that needed to be addressed.

“Then Focalors will beg for a quick death.”

-

When you woke up, you were greeted by more Melusines. They stood resolute in your room, as if they were guarding you. While the Melusine in front of you held a tray with food on it, it was plated beautifully. It was fixed with great care and it’s easy to tell a lot of attention was put into making it perfect.

“Did Neuvillette send you all again?” Are the first words to leave your lips once you sit up in the bed.

Blathine, who stood the closest to you, nods. “Monsieur told us to watch over you.”

She slides the tray carefully onto your lap being careful to not let anything fall. You look down at the tray licking your lips, you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until food was right in front of you.

“Thank you.” You smile picking up a piece of the sliced bulle fruit putting it in your mouth. It was sweet and refreshing, you craved more, desperately famished.

As you eat, you can’t help but notice how the Melusines get closer and surround your bed their eyes on you. You hesitate for a moment, dropping the piece of fruit back onto the plate as you wipe your mouth.

Their eyes followed every move you made, it was clear that the species was interested in humans but this felt like something else. Like how a child would act with their parent.

“I thought Melusines were responsible for guarding Fontaine?”

These five Melusines were apart of the Marechaussee Phantom, the blue uniforms and hats made it obvious.

“Monsieur Neuvillette increased the number of Gardes and Gardemeks around Fontaine so that we can prioritize your safety.” Menthe explains.

“My safety?

“Lady Furina and Monsieur Neuvillette prioritize you over everything. Everyone does.”

You want to scoff at their words, if you really were as valued as they say you wouldn’t be in this hospital bed right now.

“Your Grace…?”

You look up noticing a woman in a white coat standing by the door. Her blonde hair was pulled into a low bun and her red lips stretched into a welcoming smile.

“I’ve been assigned as your personal nurse and I’m here to change your bandages,” she explains. “Are you finished eating?”

You look down at the tray and the half eaten food on it. You still felt a bit hungry but having all these eyes on you made it difficult to eat. You push the tray away slightly as you nod at the woman.

The woman takes a step to enter the room but the Melusines were quick to approach as they checked her and her bag for anything suspicious.

The nurse places her bag at the foot of the bed opening it. Inside were multiple different medical supplies, bandages, and gloves. She grabs a pair of the gloves sliding them onto her slender fingers.

“How have you been feeling Your Grace? Any pain in your abdomen?” She asks.

“No. No pain.” You reply shifting slightly.

She looks over at you giving you another smile, “don’t worry Your Grace I’ll be quick. We just don’t want your wounds to get infected.”

You lay down on your back as the nurse slowly lifts your shirt to reveal the golden stained bandages wrapped around your torso. Carefully, she begins to unravel them making sure not to cause you any pain or discomfort.

Once the bandages were fully removed, you notice her eyebrows furrow. She bites her lip slightly as her eyes dart all across your exposed skin.

“Is something wrong?” You ask feeling a sense of dread creep up your spine.

“I— Your Grace.” She stammers, “Your wounds, they’re already healing.”

She touches what was left of your injury with her gloved hand. The gash was already almost closed and there was no more blood leaking from it. The wound looked more like a large scratch rather than something that could’ve killed you.

“Healing!?” You reply, “Already?”

“It’s fascinating…” she breathes out, “I never seen anything like it.”

The nurse begins to notice your discomfort, she clears her throat as she bows slightly to you. “I apologize for my behavior Your Grace. That was very unbecoming of me.”

She grabs the fresh bandages from her box and quickly wraps your abdomen back up.

“I do not believe you need these bandages anymore.” She says as she secures the bandages with medical tape. “however I will wrap them just as a precaution.”

Once she back away and pulls off her gloves you pull down your shirt and sit back up in the bed.

The nurse closes her bag and picking it up to put back in her shoulder. “Although you are healing much more quickly than expected, you should still drink plenty of water and get some rest.”

“I will inform Monsieur Neuvillette of your condition. I think by daybreak tomorrow you should be able to leave this bed.”

It was relieving to hear that you would be able to leave this bed soon. Being cooped up in the same room for days at a time was mentally draining. Especially when the only ones who visited you (excluding the Melusines) all groveled at your feet for an apology.

“Enjoy the rest of your day Your Grace,” she bows again, “I hope that you will be able to enjoy everything Fontaine has to offer you soon.”

She turns and walks towards the door, her heels clicking as she walks.

As her footsteps fade, the room grows silent again. You pull the blankets off your body standing from the bed. The Melusines watched your movements before Blathine speaks up.

“Did you have somewhere to go?” She asks tilting her head slightly. “We have been instructed to follow you.”

“I want to speak to Neuvillette.” You reply stretching your sore limbs, suddenly not feeling anymore pain in your abdomen.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” She repeats, “Shall I bring Lady Furina as well? She’d love to talk to you.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I only want Neuvillette.”

Blathine nods as she skips towards the exit of your room.

“Very well, I will return with the Iudex immediately.”

-

For the first time ever, the Northland Bank was closed and no outside personnel were allowed to enter. In fact, no one apart of the Fatui had been seen in the past twelve hours.

Except for Lyney and Lynette.

The magical duo who are loved by everyone in Fontaine, or at least they were before people found out they were from the House of Hearth. Although their name had been cleared from that case, no one would trust anyone associated with the Fatui.

That didn't stop them from entertaining the people around Fontaine with their latest tricks.

Even after Father returned from Snezhnaya the night before.

Alrecchino's visits were always sporadic, the children understood, she was a Harbinger. However this time it felt even more unexpected. The children had never seen her look so angry in their lives but she would never take her anger out on the children. There was one person in particular that she wanted to lash out on, but she has to focus on what’s important.

Lyney and Lynette were the ones pulled aside by Alrecchino, the task she had for them now was bigger than finding out the true nature of the Oritrace.

Yet the twins knew that a second chance will not be an option this time.

-

Getting into the hospital where you were being held would be impossible, that much was true. The level of security around that building alone was enough to rival any trial that had ever been held in Fontaine. No one would be getting into that building unless cleared by the ludex or the Archon themselves.

There was only one person that wasn’t a notable figure in Fontaine that was able to enter that building. The nurse who went through so many clearances and was lucky enough to provide the Creator with any medical assistance they needed.

When she had stepped out the building, the nurse was immediately surrounded by reporters from the Steambird who wanted to know anything about the Creators current condition.

“Could you tell us anything about how the Creators doing?”

“Are they healing? Have they woken up?”

“Will we be able to see them soon?”

“I apologize,” the nurse begins as she glances around at the crowd. “I cannot give any information on Their Grace at the moment.”

The reporters visibly deflate at the news, or rather the lack of news. She pushes her way through the crowd to head towards to Palais Mermonia. The streets of Fontaine were empty, most people were too focused on The Creator to be bothered with anything else.

“Excuse me, Miss?” A voice calls out.

The nurse stops walking and turns around to see who called out to her.

It was the twins, two faces anyone in Fontaine would recognize.

Her face brightens slightly, “Lyney and Lynette! I love your magic shows!”

Lyney gives her a sly smile as he takes a few more steps to be closer to the woman, his sister follows but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m glad you’re a fan!” He exclaims, “My sister and I have been working on our latest trick for our newest show. Would you mind if we showed it to you?”

The nurse hesitates, “Actually I don’t think I can—“

“It’s just one trick!” Lyney interjects, “It won’t take too much time, I promise.”

“Alright fine.” She concedes, “I can only stay five minutes though. I have somewhere important to be.”

The twins exchange glances while nodding.

“Very well! Prepared to be amazed!” Lyney exclaims.

Lyney and all of his siblings knew how awful that Fatui was. The group has done unimaginable things and ruined many people’s lives. However, the children also knew that the Harbingers has their own aspirations that had nothing to do with the group.

Arlechinno only had the best intentions for her homeland Fontaine and the Creator, that is one thing Lyney knew for sure. So if getting the Creator out of Fontaine was the best option, then he would feel no remorse for what he had to do.

The trick was simple, something Lyney wouldn’t use during one of his shows just because it’s not entertaining enough. Yet he isn’t here to entertain this woman, all they have to do is keep her distracted long enough so Father’s plan can work.

Lyney pulls off his hat and bows to the nurse who only laughed and clapped.

“That was amazing as always! I cannot wait to see it in your next show!”

His smile fades as he fixes his posture placing his hat back on his head. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ll be sure to reserve you a special seat in the front.”

Her laughter soon died down as she stares at the twins. Their warm welcoming nature was devoured by something more malicious. The nurse subconsciously takes a step back, the hand that held onto her medical bag began to tremble. Lyney’s face was devoid of emotion and Lynette’s gaze seemed to be focused behind the woman.

However, she had no time to turn around. Two large hands grip firmly onto her shoulders.

“You’re coming with us.”

The nurse’s eyes widen as the two Fatui Skirmishers forcefully pull her back towards the direction of the Northland Bank. She glances back at the twins who only watch silently as she is dragged away.

“What do you want?! Please don’t hurt me!” She cries.

In almost a blink of an eye, the woman was gone. With no witnesses or trace of her presence, the twins didn’t have to worry about being put on trial again.

Lyney sighs as he looks down at the pavement.

His sister places her hand on his shoulder, “Our job still isn’t finished. We still have to deal with the traveler. They cannot intervene.”

Lyney nods at her words as he readjusts his top hat, “You’re right. Let’s go.”

-

“You wished to see me Your Grace?”

Neuvillette stood by your doorway as he bowed respectfully to you. He spoke in a soft tone and he refused to meet your gaze.

“Yes. There’s something I needed to talk to you about.” You reply.

As he enters your room, the Melusines exit the room quietly leaving the two of you alone. Neuvillette stands by the window facing you. “How can I help you your Grace?”

“I’m sure the nurse has already told you, but my wounds are healing.” You say.

His eyebrows furrow as he brings his gloved hand up to his mouth, “No she hasn’t told me anything yet, but maybe she’s already waiting at Palais Mermonia.”

Neuvillette smiles, “but I’m glad to hear that you are feeling better. I will discuss your condition more with the nurse so I can make the preparations for you to leave the hospital. I want you to be as comfortable as possible in Fontaine.”

“There’s no need for that.”

His eyes widen momentarily but his expression doesn’t change, “What do you mean? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You look down at your lap as you fiddle with your fingers. Although he was trying everything in his power to make you feel comfortable, you still felt uneasy around the man. The last time you actually had an conversation with him, he considered you a criminal.

“I want to leave Fontaine.”

An awkward silence settles around the two of you as you wait for him to respond to your statement.

“I see…” Neuvillette begins, “…Is there a nation in particular you’d like to travel to?”

You ponder his question for a moment, you never really thought about where you’d go after you left the Nation of Hydro. It didn’t matter, you just wanted to get out of here.

“Sumeru.” You reply. “That is the closest nation, right?”

Neuvillette nods, “It is Your Grace, but to get to Sumeru city you’ll have to pass through the desert.”

“That’s fine I just—“ you pause, you didn’t want to say anything that he might take offense to.

“I can make the preparations for you to leave as early as possible. I will reach out to the Dendro Archon to make her aware of your arrival.”

“Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?” Neuvillette asks quietly.

You look away from his gaze, “No. I don’t think you can.”

Neuvillette nods as he lets out a breath, “I see… was there anything else you’d like to discuss Your Grace?”

You shake your head, “No I’d rather just be alone right now. Could you send the Melusines away too?”

You could tell by the look he gave you he wanted to refuse your request but he doesn’t. He gives bows again as he begins walking back to the door.

“Oh Neuvillette!” You suddenly call out.

He turns to face you again, “Yes Your Grace?”

“Thank you for the flowers by the way.” You say sheepishly, “they’re beautiful.”

You see his pale cheek grow red slightly as he quickly turns away from you. “I’m glad you liked them. I’ll be sure to bring you more.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his embarrassed reaction.

“Your Grace,” Neuvillette says after clearing his throat, “I brought you another gift. I’d be honored if you’d accept it.”

You fix your posture, interested in what this gift could be. “What is it?”

He gestures for Blathine to enter to room, she was holding a nicely decorated vase in between her tiny hands as she holds it out to Neuvillette. He smiles down at her as he grabs it with one hand, using the other to pat her head lightly.

Neuvillette walks over to your bedside with the vase in hand, “It’s water Your Grace. Some of the best water you can find in all of Teyvat. I collected it specially for you.”

He places the vase next to the bouquet of flowers.

“Thank you Neuvillette,” you reply, “I’ll be sure to enjoy it.”

As you accept his gift you notice that his mood seemed to lift, almost like you never told him you wanted to leave Fontaine in the first place. Neuvillette gives you one last bow as he heads back to the exit.

“I will return personally to check on you in the morning Your Grace.”

Neuvillette and the Melusines leave without another word. Just like before, you were left alone with your own thoughts. You could only hope that Sumeru was better than Fontaine, but Nahida was the God of Wisdom so surely she wouldn’t accuse you of anything without evidence?

You let out a sigh as you relax back into the bed glancing out the window. The sky already had a orange hue signifying that the sun would be setting soon. You didn’t even realize how fast the day had passed, spending all your time in this room.

“…Your Grace..” A soft voice calls out.

You glance over at the door, it was a nurse, but not the one you had earlier today. Under the white coat she wore an unusual outfit, wouldn’t it even be comfortable working in an thing like that?

She seemed to notice your gaze on her appearance. “I apologize for my clothing Your Grace, but the matter was important.”

You stare at her a guarded look on your face, “where’s the other nurse? She was the one assigned to me by Neuvillette.”

She nods, “You’re right Your Grace, but there had been a complication with your injury and I was tasked to bring you medicine.”

You raise a brow, “The other nurse said I was healing? How could that change so quickly.”

The mysterious woman enters your room fully, her footsteps as silent as ever. You could hardly see her face as the light began to slowly drain from the sky.

“After checking your old bandages we are worried that an infection is already growing within your body. I brought a serum to stop it before it gets worse.”

Your eyes widen as your hand rests on your torso. An infection? Just when you thought you would be able to leave this nation, you could be stuck here even longer.

“Will this medicine heal me quickly?”

“Of course Your Grace. Your health is our up most priority.” She replies quickly.

She walks to your bedside pulling out a small bottle from her coat pocket. The liquid within it was clear as she holds it out to you.

“Here, you have to drink it all.”

You grab the bottle from her fingers taking out to cork as you smell it. The medicine had no scent. Slowly, you bring it up to your lips letting the medicine spill into your mouth as you drink it in one go.

The woman smiles as she takes the empty bottle from your hands. “Wonderful Your Grace. You’ll be feeling the effects very soon.”

Your head suddenly felt heavy as if the world was spinning around you. What the hell did you just take?You look up at the woman and she just had a small smile on her lips not saying anything else.

You felt uncoordinated as you reach over to the vase Neuvillette had gifted you to take a drink of water. Maybe some water would help wash this feeling away.

The vase slips from your weak grip crashing onto the ground, the glass shatters as the water splashes everywhere. The overwhelming feeling to close your eyes was growing stronger as you take one last glance at the woman, but this time you see someone standing behind her.

This woman had white hair with raven streaks, her eyes were black with and her pupils were X-shaped.

“Don’t worry Your Eminence,” the new woman says, her voice soft and graceful, “I will take care of you from now on..”

You couldn’t fight the feeling anymore, your eyelids close as you rest limply in the bed.

“Lady Harbinger. It’s done.”

The Knave enters the room fully stepping over the shards of glass the was scattered across the room. She kneels down in front of you bringing her hand up to cup your face.

“Tell the others to prepare the ship. We are leaving Fontaine immediately.” She whispers as if you’d wake up if she spoke too loudly.

“And what about Their Grace? Are we taking them back to the Zapolyarny Palace?”

“No.” Arlechinno replies curtly, “I have other plans for Their Grace.

-

-

© avocad1s 2023

Note: omg this took so long to get out! But I hope everyone is enjoying 4.1 update! I haven’t started it yet since I wanted to finish this first but to all Neuvillette wanters (me) you will win the 50/50 <3!!

Tagging: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily @tempestlart @angelofdarkness2 @mmeatt @dxprived4-starboys @Itm-acct @honey-lemonz @ymechi @nervouseaglelover @livelaughlovekuni @vianitry @vvyeislazzy @kbar1013 @ichiraku-verse @chaoticfivesworld @eplefugl @mabvo @g3n0dtt @shikanosn @noahrandom @haunts-gh0st @pix-stuff @riiriin @emmbny @mih3r4 @shiki-jin @owl778 @ra404 @leekingsman @ash1 @wangjiswarren @shellofthewell @f1onaa @mahi-does-some-art @bitchyfanfics-posts @emilymikado @sarah22447 @swagbucksjester

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[blood-teeth]

"...and, at the end of it all, this is the truth of you. The truth of your ruinous, shaky hands. The truth of you whole, de-fleshed, flayed. Your bones are harbingers, your fingers methods of decay. You are the mouthpiece for death. You remember the Bhagavad Gita and I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Look at me, you say, I am Time itself, and I must one day destroy your world as I have always done. 

In the light of a long dead star, the last astronaut wakes up. After six decades, the worst has come to pass. The earth is dead, the sun has gone, and the mission to find a new, viable home has failed. There are no more horizons for humanity.

This Grave Calls You Home is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. You play as an ER nurse aboard the NEW HORIZON, an immense space station courtesy of THE COALITION OF THE LAST FRONTIER. This colossal facility, a self-contained city in orbit, houses the remnants of humanity. And it is here that your days pass in monotony, caring for the irradiated people born from Earth and the critically ill, trying your best to survive the relentless demands of the Emergency Room and your own deteriorating mental health. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is throughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation.

Or you could be its extinction.

YOU WILL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: - INTERSTELLAR - THE LOCKED TOMB SERIES - BLADERUNNER - HEAVEN WILL BE MINE - TIME TRAVEL AND TIME LOOPS - GHOST STATION - ALIEN

THE LAST ASTRONAUT(M/F 25)- ALEX STERN "...my love, i no longer know what it is to be warm." The lone ranger, the last star. The failure of deliverance. Feel their breath against yours, cup their ribcage into your hands to feel the long, dead beat of their heart. You know them, you know them. You swear you do.

THE SCIENTIST (F 23) - OPHELIA VALDEZ "...in the wake of dawn," she says, "it has only ever been you." The General's daughter and the brightest mind the world has ever seen. You brush your fingers along the bone of her brow and marvel at her atoms meeting yours. maybe science is religion, you think. maybe you will bend and lick and worship her taste on your mouth.

THE ENGINEER (THEY/THEM 24) - PUCK GOODFELLOW "is that your real name?" "no," they smile. "nothing has ever been mine own. i belong to you. give me a new name. give me a new life. i am yours." The scent of engine oil and gritted teeth. Place your mouth against their neck and taste the blood of a covenant past. They hold you in their palms; you feel the promise of something greater, something before.

THE BOTANIST (M/F 25) - CAIA / CAIUS CAIN "i am no good at words. i'm good in the dirt and the roots and the trees. darling, you've been in everything i touch." the cool touch of water, liberation at their smile. Take the bite and know what it means to become. Dig your hands deep, deep in the earth and feel what it means to love.

THE MAJOR (TRANS M 27) - JONATHAN STERN "i have given my life to duty, to sacrifice, to obligation. i wish to give it to you, now, instead. it has been an honor serving you." A past marked by violence made by hands meant to touch. To soothe. He holds you tight against his chest and if you close your eyes you can still smell the smoke. He holds you like an apology. Like a prayer.

DEMO (coming soon!) - PLAYLIST - FAQ

[brynn-lear]

Sugar Pills (Yandere!Capitano/Reader)

Questionable Overview: You're getting real tired of Dottore's theatrics. Which is a great shame, considering how it's only now that Capitano learns the value of surface acting and masking. (from my series: #Capitano's So-Called Liability)

CW/Tags: there is no "real" age gaps since this is a Howl's Moving Castle scenario, slowburn/soft yandere themes, afab!reader, mild violence. While this fic isn't "too dark", the reader isn't mentally stable. Please prioritize your mental health first, you matter.

Prev || Next

When coming up with a proposal, you've learned that it's best to approach a harbinger when they're in the middle of an arms race. It's been ages since you've applied this knowledge, but luckily, dusting off memories of yesteryears isn't challenging.

"Can't even spare me a proper welcome?" You yawned, dropping a beaten and dead fatuus just inches away from an unforgettable metal-laced shoe. The sound of their empty vision clunked on the hard floor. "I might not be as much in the spotlight these days, dear, but isn't it good manners to greet your elders properly when they visit?"

The aforementioned shoe brushed the body away. "Hah. You make a terrible habit of flaunting that cosmetic age of yours."

And yet, there you stood, glaring with a smug head up high. No ordinaire can don the demeanor you flaunt in front of the second-ranked harbinger. You'll always keep the cloak-and-dagger act. Dramatics are second nature to those who earn their keep through blood money. You only saw it right to greet him with a more appropriate entrance. Bold and unfaltering in resolve.

"And you have a great habit of looking younger with each passing day," you feigned a chirpy tone. "Isn't that right, Doctor?"

Behind a crow's mask, crimson eyes bore holes into your very being.

Since you received that "birthday present" from him, he had sent out men to secretly nag you behind the Captain's back. They ask you why you haven't taken the medicine at best and attempt to drug you at worst. This rendezvous had been going on for weeks. Enough times that could manifest anger and murderous intent out of you until it did.

After reaching the limit of your patience, you murdered the last person to spike your perfectly fine water, took his vision and portable waypoint, and teleported to his master harbinger's base. Too much work just to get someone to stop pestering you.

The feeling is mutual. Il Dottore— the last of his perspective— also found your presence troublesome.

The second-ranked harbinger spent his "free" time in a painfully bright, pale room. He likes to dub this phase a "recovery state." Typically, there would be plenty of "him" to go around— but striking a deal for a gnosis always beckons a great deal of self-sacrifice. Or self-sacrifice-s. 

Hence why you pushed to visit him this instance. Despite his placid demeanor, you're confident he's eager to prove that there's a method to his madness. Oneself is always the greatest competitor. 

A proper arms race. 

"You know very well that I do not take youth as a compliment," he retorted, though his tone was considerably friendly. He made repeated tapping motions on his armchair, almost impatiently. "What trivial matter have you dared to interrupt my brainstorming session with? Speak now— I'll let you know I'm engaged with matters of greater significance."

"I've done my due diligence of personally replying to your last letter." You glared down at your last victim. "Consider this my thanks."

Without tearing your gaze away, you fished the medicine from your coat and threw it at his chest with all your might. The bottle shattered on the floor.

Greatly "offended" by your rude antics, Dottore defeatedly abandoned his scrawls and turned to properly look at you.

"You decided to skip the pills. How delightfully reckless of you, Granny (Y/n)." He sardonically smiled.

At least he has the decency to name you correctly.

You rolled your eyes as you approached. Once you were just a foot away, you stabbed the corpse's head once more with your cane's pointed base— the force harsh enough to splatter the livor mortis flesh and brain matter on the floor of his beloved laboratory.

What an unnecessarily extreme scene, befitting of your old title.

"I grow tired of your games, Zandik." You spat back. "Must you constantly send your men to make futile attempts to lace my food with your de-aging concoction? I don't appreciate discarding their bodies— much less some perfectly fine meals."

If Capitano were here, he would've made a vague comment about how your value on human life is concerning.

But he doesn't have to know about this interaction.

"You complain about my work, yet I vaguely recall an era in your life in which you'd routinely wake up screaming like a rooster in the morning." Dottore shrugged and pointed to himself. "And who provided you with a cure-all for those night terrors? Go on. I would be enthused to know."

You crossed your arms. The jaded look in your eyes heightened his interest. Hence, Dottore stood up, his footsteps crunching the shattered glass strewn about.

"Let me wager a proper hypothesis for this ...irrational behavior. A possible psychological or existential leaning toward death may be at the root of the patient's ongoing resistance to the recommended treatment." He craned his head like a bird inspecting its prey. "In simpler terms for meager minds like yours to understand: you're not accepting my charity since you wish to die. Is that right?" 

Dottore is a reasonable man. Disarmingly charming, even.

This particular segment just hates you.

You smiled back, returning the same malice.

"Who knows?" You tapped the beak of his mask. "Doesn't matter. I didn't come here to get psycho-analyzed. I came here because I want to strike a deal."

Dottore paused.

"I had a prediction that you would ensnare me with a gambit. No small wonder that Omega has found you a captivating individual, (Y/n)."

Many miss the fact that the good Doctor has a "seductive" air about him. He has a charisma that people will either dismiss in fear or fall victim to. You're part of the secret third group— the coworkers immune to his antics.

"Yes, well, I do pride myself on hosting the best picnics by the meadows of Ardravi Valley." You spoke, voice oozing with the same playful banter you once reserved for his deceased copy. "I've got no abundance in lifespan like you. I'd dare say I'm selling myself at a very limited-time offer."

However, this Dottore was not the one you befriended. This was his murderer.

"Playing the card of wisdom with that appearance may fool the world, but you can't dissuade me." Dottore clicked his tongue. "Are you mimicking Sohreh?"

What a surprisingly plain question.

You shrugged. "Am I?"

Feigning impassivity while he could, the Doctor placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Talk."

"I've only one wish, which is for you to stop being such a nuisance." You scoffed. "What can I do to get you to stop trying to make me your side experiment, Doctor?"

Intuition rarely fails you. You knew that this was a matter that could be reasoned with. The problem is that you needed to figure out what your bargaining chip would be. But by the look on his face, he had already sorted that out minutes, maybe even months, before you arrived.

His hand that once hovered on your shoulder slowly snaked towards your neck.

"I have a proposal," Dottore spoke softly.

You hardened your expression. "Spill."

"I can assist you in experiencing that honorable death you craved so much— at the right time and place." Using his thumb, he applied mild pressure against your throat. "However, I'll need you to befriend the upcoming tourists in Natlan."

You blinked.

… What a strange request.

"Befriend… The tourists?" You grabbed his intrusive hand, yanking it away. "What are you on about?"

"Under favorable circumstances, I would have had a copy extract these, but the old conventional tools are unavailable."

"But why?" You raised an eyebrow. "Dear, I just can't quite wrap my head around why this is the gamble you're betting your chips on—"

"And that is precisely why The Tsaritsa dubbed you La Ruffiana and not a respectable title," Dottore smirked, chuckling lowly. "Hence, I'll gladly elucidate you with brief guide questions in a language you're sure to comprehend."

"I'd rather we both save time by revealing the answer, pronto."

Since you had forgotten to let go of his wrist, he used your grip to pull you closer to him.

"Tell me, (Y/n), during the Sumeru fiasco…" With faces just inches away from each other, he tilted and teased your ear with his breath. "Who, indeed, served as the paramount subject in my quest to engineer a being that transcends even the might of the archons?"

… Who?

You placed a hand on his chin to create a respectable distance. "Child, I really hate to say this, but the world doesn't just spin around you and your little experiments. I wouldn't know a thing about that poor, nameless puppet you're on about. But if I had to take a wild guess, you're talking about that man you went and turned into a sorry excuse for an All-Knowing God, aren't you?"

Dottore grinned, baring his sharp teeth.

"I perceive that our memories from that period have been tampered with. Nevertheless, your hypothesis remains merely superficial. There exists an individual whom I regard as the genuine subject of this experiment. Would you toss one last conjecture?"

…

You let out a strangled air, unable to properly articulate your disbelief.

It's the traveler. Of course, it's her.

Dottore aspires to transform humans into gods, yet his attempts have thus far been in vain. Save for one young woman who sought refuge in both Mondstadt and Sumeru, all subjects have perished during testing. In your days as a harbinger, you've watched others toil over the vulneraries and prosthetics the Doctor would jam into them. Your visit to certain hospitals by the desert is your testimony to his apathy. He is driven by relentless curiosity, never pausing for the ethical implications of his research, but would spend hours on the feasibility of his experiments.

You were relieved when you heard he used an inorganic lifeform in his last experiment. But if that was a mere dud, then…

"Don't tell me— all this time, your real goal revolved around how the traveler could ascend into Godhood?" You gawked. "So whatever that puppet was, is nothing more than a self-fulfilling prophecy in failure? Your experiments in blasphemy will always find new ways to make me utterly sick."

You flinched as Dottore caressed your cheek. It wasn't the contact that shocked you.

It was the respect in his eyes.

"Hmm... About a year ago, you'd make conscious efforts to bite your tongue. I must remark that I am fascinated with the concerning spike of confidence your senile age brings."

"Things change." You mocked him. "You should try growing older. About a year ago, I wouldn't have this deal with you, too."

With that, the verbal contract was set into motion.

"We'll keep in touch."

He pulled away.

You scoffed. "If I believed in Celestia, I would've prayed you'd become a decent person."

"How unfortunate that you'll need a stronger God to achieve that ambition," Dottore laughed. "And materializing a stronger God is precisely part of my current objectives."

This heretic.

"I see now why you and Capitano are far too different to be colleagues."

You glared.

"Have your glory. You may receive everything— the ego in victory— the spoils of war. Celestia may even watch you steal the blessings of ascension. But you have no honor. You live with no happiness."

You grumbled while you walked away. The erratic sound of your cane reflected the rhythm of your anger and disgust. Before you left, you gave him one high note to end on.

"You dance with no music."

As soon as you were out of the vicinity, Dottore quickly returned to his near-incoherent scrawling.

"I'd rather be a fool who performs for no one," he grinned, his stomach tucking in from stifled laughter. "Than a blabbering grandmother scared of sugar pills."

"(Y/N)!!!"

Upon your supposedly quiet return to the inn, you were greeted by a pair of large hands squeezing your cheeks with trembling worry.

"I told you to call me Granny—"

"Where have you been?!" He tilted your head, inspecting for wounds like an incompetent father. His strength would usually cause grief, but you've grown used to this. It's a sensation that's hard to hate.

His hands are rough but not unkind.

"When I awoke, I realized you were not in your room." He spoke, evident that he was reeling himself from rambling. Been a long while since you saw his long and gorgeous hair this messy. "Had I not instructed you not to wander alone without one of our men at your side."

The inn's staff whispered among themselves while his men stiffly avoided gazing at you two. You cringe at everyone's bloodshot eyes. There's more room to pity the Natlan locals— they didn't ask to be involved. Capitano ordered a search party this late on your behalf when there was zero need for it. The attention was getting embarrassing.

You should've known that he'd notice your absence.

Damn it. You were barely gone for half an hour.

"Steel yourself, child. I don't need your men to coddle me." Months have passed, and he has yet to accept that you do not have a respectable position as a personal assistant. "I can wander around Natlan as safe as I please, kid. Are you seriously doubting my strength?"

That dirty tactic sobered him up.

"You know that isn't so." Capitano sighed, letting you go. "I know you're plenty capable, however..."

"Need I remind you that before the incident, I was originally the Harbinger tasked with retrieving the pyro gnosis?" You shook your head, feigning disappointment. "You should know by now that I've studied this place's typography and wildlife. No encounter could shock and harm me— even with these old bones."

"It's precisely why I worry over you," Capitano glared slightly. "With your curse, you could've been marked by foes out there."

"I didn't go anywhere far. I was just sightseeing."

"That explanation doesn't wash. I saw the glow of a portable waypoint when you came back."

… How observant. That's the first ranked harbinger for ya, you supposed.

"Okay, maybe I went home for a bit, so what?" You pouted. "It's a bit too warm in here for my liking."

The inn's staff immediately froze up.

"N-Not that it's bad, of course!" You laughed nervously. Ah, shit, let's not involve them. "It's my fault 'cause I didn't raise that concern with them. Old ladies such as myself are so stubborn. Hmm, hmm!"

Gradually, Capitano relaxed.

"I understand. At least, I'll choose to understand your fib for now."

"Not quite out of the cage yet, am I?" You joked.

"Not at all." Capitano exhaled softly, a hand barely covering his gentle smile. His voice made it painfully apparent that you're off the hook.

He's such a terrible liar.

Before you could comment on this, Capitano reached out his hand.

"Come with me." He wagged his fingers towards him, beckoning you to come closer. "Let's continue our conversation somewhere private."

Out of the 11 harbingers and those who had come and gone, you know Capitano the most.

"I didn't realize Natlan nights can be cold." You spoke thoughtlessly.

He stared at you blankly. "Cold enough to prevent you from running back home, clearly."

"Ah."

And likewise, he knows you best as well.

You digressed in an instant. "Why did you bring me here, Little Captain?"

You stood by a cliff, staring at the quiet night in the humble town. There's a noticeable increase of guards on patrol since the Fatui arrived in Natlan, but with Capitano as the lead, you saw no reason for their alarm. Obviously, Capitano didn't bring you here to make that observation. Judging from how his stare is on the ground and not the beautiful sight, public perception is pushed at the back of his mind.

"Your cane…" He whispered.

"What about it?"

"You forgot to wash the blood away."

Inspecting the cane without lifting it, you realize what he meant.

"Oh."

"Who was it?" His voice sounded a bit more stern.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Who was what?"

There was a shift in the air.

"Who attacked you?"

…

You laughed uncontrollably.

"W-What?! Pfft— puh-lease! No one attacked me." You poked his helmet. He stared you down, unamused. "No-bo-dy."

Capitano has yet to let his anger go. He spoke steadily, but he wasn't fooling you. "I'll ask once more: who attacked you?"

"Don't tell me your memory is worse than this old lady's," you clicked your tongue. "I just told you, it's nobody."

Capitano shifted his foot down slightly. "Elena reported that you were assaulting a fatuus with your cane in an isolated dining area."

Curses. You thought you were alone. To be caught by Elena, of all people? Your senses must be dulling.

"Well, one of your men— I suppose— was disrespecting their elders."

"I ordered a headcount. None of my men have gone missing." Capitano crossed his arms. "Besides, they know better than aggravating my most prized assistant."

Should've known that lie won't fly.

"Okay, maybe it wasn't one of your men." Obviously it was Dottore's, but you bit your tongue. "But you should know I'm a polarizing figure in the Fatui. I heard someone say that getting rid of me is a noble act cause they'd be removing your right from employing an absolute loser."

"(Y/n), where did you get those ideas?"

Honestly? Straight out of your 'lovely' imagination. If not inspired by Pantalone's past remarks as well— just cruder.

It’s almost commendable how easy it is to assume everyone is out to get you. The work environment certainly helps. A strange grin or remark is sufficient to validate any doubts. Probably illogical for you to live life this way. You're aware enough that not every whisper is about you and that not every grin hides some hidden agenda, yet the uncertainties still seep in so effortlessly that it almost seems like breathing.

You've yet to find someone who will prove your inherent distrust wrong. That body you hurled at Dottore earlier was no exception.

"Whoever attacked me doesn't matter; I got rid of them."

"I know you did. I don't reserve any doubt whatsoever. That is not the issue at hand." Capitano shook his head, his last words hiding a slight growl. "What I am perturbed by is how you had hidden this from me."

Your eyes widened.

"I-I'm sorry, forgive me, Capitano." You fumbled. "It was genuinely not as big as you think it is. A traitor was in the mist, and I took care of it."

"You were targeted, (Y/n)," Capitano said, nearly whispering as he gently took your hands. No matter how callous he was or how much his skin resembled etched maps, they held yours with great care.

His eyelids drooped slightly, hiding unspoken grief. "You were attacked when I made an oath that I would protect you while you are under my care..."

Capitano's tone softened further, almost withdrawn from hurt.

"I should have been there..."

You've never been one to immediately process emotions in a snap. When you and Capitano share ideas, theories intersect like constellations on Teyvat nights. But that look in his eye? You can't read what he's thinking.

"Why do you fret over it, dearie? Death is but a doorbell away for me." You hummed with a wide smile. "I'll be claimed soon enough. Maybe tonight might even be the night. Oh, honey, it's no skin off the Tsaritsa's back if an old gal like me bites the dust."

…

You have a feeling you said the worst thing imaginable at that moment.

…

Capitano said nothing.

In fact, you'd wager that was on purpose.

There's a glint in his eye. A look that you couldn't place— a dangerous thought you can't hear. It ringed endlessly in his ears, and the slight tremor in his fingertips proved it. His blue eyes stared straight into your soul.

A revelation. An epiphany. A newfound raison d'etre that he refused to let anyone know— you specifically.

Something about him drastically changed.

But that look vanished in an instant.

Capitano's mouth curled upward.

The smile did not reach his eyes. 

"I prefer if it's kind sleep who takes you tonight," Capitano muttered. "Death is far too early for a woman like you."

"A woman like me?" You chuckled. "You meant grandmother, right? And what do you mean by that?"

"A woman like you deserves all the time in the world, not to be taken prematurely. Your spirit is far too bright to be dimmed so soon." He took off his cloak. "Because a woman like you is a woman loved by many."

Capitano wrapped his cloak around you before you realized it. As you looked down, you noticed how much larger his frame was than yours. The cloak reached the floor when you donned it. Though it was night, the cologne he put on reminded you of sun-drenched clothes and steel— but it's possible that this was just Capitano's natural scent.

"I should add cloaks as an interest for your late birthday present." You could practically hear the smile on his face as he said, "It suits you."

Something about the way he sounded was way off now.

The weariness from your conversations with Dottore seemingly washed away. You grabbed a fistful of the cloak and raised it. "I think every tailor in Teyvat would beg to differ."

Capitano chuckled. "Respectfully, they wouldn't know any better."

"And you do?" You raised an eyebrow, but that grin on your face is too difficult to wipe off. "I don't think you know me well, little Captain."

You continued.

"Anyone can learn to like me, but to love me…"

Is devastating.

You trailed off, eyes back on the quiet streets. You've always admired those who teased on the edge of retirement and eternal sleep, their bravery surpassing the young's. They act on reckless abandon, unburdened by the opinions of others. Alice saw this in you, and she knew— deep in her heart— that she'd be more than willing to help you embrace that freedom in whatever form that may take.

Since you became a "grandmother", seemingly everything and nothing has changed. You've pushed away those who pretended to care, only to find that no soul can stand to be with you. Maybe it was a glorious boon or just as the witch said— a desperate cry for help, nothing more. The experience so far taught you things you already knew you hated about yourself that you wondered if this were all for the sake of mastery. Have you destroyed yourself for nothing? Who knows. But you'll continue to take solace that maybe, just maybe, death may end the loneliness you've endured for so long.

But if you so badly chase for death…

"████████."

You looked at him.

"Can I ask for a favor?"

You're going to do it right.

Taglist: @macaronilovingracoon, @lucienbarkbark, @meimeimeirin, @notthefib987, @meowmeowakutagawa

[suntoru]

❝ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ❞

─ ✰ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: scaramouche thinks you’re an awfully clumsy human being. you’re lucky he loves you just as much as you like to see him suffer.

─ ✰ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, kissing, slight blood (you get hurt), 1.4k words

─ ✰ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this is very half baked ill write more genshin I SWEARRRR

"stupid," scaramouche mumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

if you didn't know any better you'd think he was degrading you, but his actions betray his words. though his tone may sound brash and condescending, you've grown accustomed to his prickly demeanor. there's a subtle shift in his voice, a hint of concern mingling with a sense of protectiveness. he squats down right next to where you're clutching your bloody knee.

pulling you snug against his chest, his touch is surprisingly gentle as he carefully inspects the scrape you received from tripping over a rock. despite his initial dismissal, there's a sincerity in his actions that speaks volumes. it's as if beneath his layers of harshness and sarcasm, there lies a genuine desire to ensure your well-being, hidden behind a facade of indifference.

he sighs, tenderly blowing air on the scrape in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain. "does it hurt?" he mumbles, his tone attempting to regain some of his abrasive personality. but when it comes to you, he finds it impossible to maintain his usual harshness. you nod softly, your eyes glazed over in a blurry haze, and he can't help but feel a strange sensation in his chest. or rather, the place where he would feel a sensation if he had a heart.

he's at a loss for how to make it feel better, his mildly annoyed faltering in the face of your discomfort. his nose crinkles. if it were him in this situation, he would have brushed it off easily, perhaps even stomped on the flowers in the surrounding area for good measure. a scrape like the one on your knee would be insignificant to him.

but mortals are so fragile, so easily breakable. you cry over small, uncontrollable events, like someone passing away or falling on your knee. you're bad for his health, he swears silently to himself. every time you trip or stumble or shed a tear, he finds himself inexplicably worrying about you. it's a strange feeling, one he's not accustomed to— caring for the emotions of someone other than himself. he doesn't like feeling vulnerable, yet in your presence, vulnerability seems inevitable.

but it's not all mortals he feels this way for. if it were one of his subordinates, he would have had them punished severely for shedding tears over such a small thing. however, with you, he finds it's different. he knows, all too well, the nature of human life, witnessing countless souls fade away in the blink of an eye; your lifespan is but a fleeting moment compared to his eternity. perhaps that's why he worries so much. scolding you for not taking proper care of yourself, angrily patching you up when you get hurt— these actions have become common occurrences.

yet, it doesn't stop the sinking feeling he gets every time it happens. it's as if with each scrape, each tear, he's reminded of the fragility of your existence. and in that reminder, he feels an unfamiliar pang of concern, a whisper of something resembling... affection. how strange.

he finds his fingers instinctively wiping away a stray tear rolling down your cheek, a frown marring his usually composed features. retrieving a spare bandaid, patterned with cute bunnies that you had insisted on buying, he takes extra caution when tending to your wound. somehow, you always manage to find trouble, a fact that both frustrates and perplexes him.

you're such a baby, always getting yourself into situations that require his attention. and yet, for some reason, he doesn't exactly mind it. after all, he'd rather you seek his comfort over a dimwit like a certain ginger harbinger.

you nuzzle into his touch, letting out soft sniffles as you pout sadly, wincing at the pain. he tries to be as gentle as possible, tenderly placing the bandaid over the scrape with the utmost care. and when you're not looking, he shoots a glare at the stupid rock that caused you harm, silently cursing its existence.

"hurts..." you mumble, tugging on his sleeve with pleading eyes. "will you kiss it better?" you ask, your voice tinged with vulnerability. he hesitates, his mind immediately conjuring up logical reasons why such an action would be ineffective and potentially harmful. but the look on your face melts his resolve, and with a resigned sigh, he leans in and tenderly presses a kiss on top of your so-called 'boo boo'. it's a small gesture, but he can't deny the warmth that spreads through him at the sight of your grateful smile.

in one motion, he tilts his oversized hat downwards, completely blocking his face, leaving you blinking softly and cocking your head in confusion. what could he possibly be doing?

"...scara?" you question, attempting to shift to where he seems to be looking. but as soon as you move, he shifts his gaze elsewhere, and you mimic his movements, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

"would you stop that?" he scowls finally, ceasing his movements and refusing to meet your gaze. his cheeks are tinged with a pretty pink hue, gradually deepening into a full-blown red, a clear sign of his embarrassment. you can't help but stare at him innocently before bursting into laughter, playfully pinching his cheek as you tease him about his flushed face.

"aww, scara, you flustered?" you taunt, but he swats away your hand, attempting to evade your playful teasing. "i'm not—" he begins, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words, but the embarrassment on his face speaks volumes. with a bratty huff, he removes his beloved hat from his head and places it firmly onto yours, obstructing your vision. his hand remains firmly placed on your head to ensure you don't pull it off.

"hey!!!" you protest, squirming in an attempt to lift the hat, but his grip remains steadfast. he's adamant on not letting you see his face; perhaps you've gone a bit too far now. is he pouting at you? gently, you intertwine your delicate fingers with the hand that's pressing down the hat, silently coaxing him to relent. eventually, he does, allowing you to lift the hat and meet his gaze, although he still stubbornly avoids making direct eye contact, staring off into the distance with a petulant expression.

he resembles a toddler at this moment, cheeks puffed in annoyance, yet his hand remains firmly clasped against yours. despite his outward irritation, you don't miss the way his thumb gently moves back and forth, caressing your fingers.

it's endearing, really, and you can't help but smile at his adorable display. surely, he wouldn't mind too much if you continued to tease him, would he? with that mischievous thought in mind, you press a tender kiss to his cheek, lips as soft as custard pressed sweetly against his pale porcelain skin. nuzzling into his face softly, he predictably flinches back, his embarrassment turning a deeper shade of red.

"hah? what was that for?" he hisses, but you can see the subtle fluster dancing in his eyes, betraying his composed facade. suddenly, he feels trapped in a dizzying spiral of butterflies in his stomach, unable to think clearly as every single thought in his head revolves around you. "hm?" you giggle mischievously, playing innocent.

"i'm just... kissing it better."

bonus!!

a day later, scaramouche stealthily makes his way back to the spot where you had tripped and hurt yourself. squatting down, he inspects the object responsible for your fall with a disdainful glare. it's just a stupid, ugly grey rock. annoyingly mundane.

"you'll never be a precious gem like you wish you were," he snarls, his voice dripping with contempt as he channels his elemental skills against it, slamming it against various surfaces with relentless force.

"you're boring. get out of my sight." with each strike, he vents his frustration, punishing the rock for its audacity to cause you harm. he continues to torment the poor rock, his determination unwavering until it's reduced to mere shambles, pebbles scattered haphazardly across the ground. only then does he allow himself a satisfied huff, a smirk of triumph gracing his lips as he surveys his handiwork. with a sense of accomplishment, he strides proudly away, eager to return home to you.

© SUNTORU 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.